“Captain’ll want to know. Just tell him about the horse. You don’t have to say nothin’ about buck fever.”

Rusty did not want to feel resentful of his friend, but he could not help it. “Did you kill any Indians?”

“Brought down a horse. Set an Indian afoot and it’s almost as good as killin’ him. Except he’ll be back to shoot at you another day. But if it wasn’t him it’d be another one. The world don’t seem to run short of Indians.”

It did not seem to run short of unnecessary conversation, either. Rusty tried to close his mind to Tanner’s rambling. He realized Tanner was talking in an effort to bring his own excitement under control. “Yes, sir,” Tanner said, “we scattered us some Comanches.”

“But they’re gettin’ away. Looks like they’ve still got most of their horses.” Rusty could see that much through eyes pinched with pain.

“Well, me and you can’t be held responsible. We’re just followin’ orders. I don’t hardly know who we’re workin’ for anyway, the state of Texas or the Confederate States of America. Ain’t neither one paid us lately.”

Since Texas had joined the Confederacy, its affairs had descended into confusion and controversy. State officials in Austin quarreled with national officials in Richmond over the financial responsibility for protecting the frontier. Most recently they wrangled over a new Confederate conscription law that threatened to strip the outlying settlements of the already deficient manpower needed for their defense. Texas officials resisted the law and as yet were refusing to enforce it in the western counties. Confederate authorities in Richmond saw Indians as a distant problem easily ignored while Yankee soldiers were pounding rifle butts against their doors.

Tanner led Alamo while Rusty gripped his saddle with both hands. Shock was setting in. He felt himself in danger of slipping to the ground. Tanner had to catch him and ease him back into the saddle. The ranger never stopped talking.

“Hang on, pardner. I see some of the boys gatherin’ just ahead yonder. If you fall now you’re apt to break that arrow off, and we won’t have enough left to grab ahold of.”

Rusty tried to focus on the rangers ahead, but it was like looking at them through a fog. He did not recognize the one who rode out to meet him until the man spoke and he knew the gruff voice to be Captain Whitfield’s. The former sergeant had been promoted after August Burmeister’s departure.

“Bring him over here under the tree, Tanner. We’ve got a couple others to patch up, but at least we didn’t get anybody killed.”