Whitfield said, “It’s no disgrace to hate havin’ to kill. I’ve got no use for a man who kills because he likes to do it. I’ll fire him out of my company quicker than a jackrabbit can jump.”

Rusty considered, then said, “It was my horse. Kept faunchin’ around.” But now that the question had been raised, he could no longer feel completely sure.

Whitfield started to turn away but stopped. “Maybe your life didn’t depend on it just then. But you’d better be sure you can do what you have to when your life does depend on it. Otherwise, you’re dead.”

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Tanner rode south to the Monahan farm. Two days later he returned to the camp at Belknap with Lon Monahan, his son Billy, and a wagon. Monahan climbed down over the right-hand front wheel and tied the lines to the brake. He walked to Rusty’s tent and ducked to enter through the open flap. “Looks like you got yourself a little too close to the Indians. Didn’t anybody ever tell you that they bite?”

“I guess I wasn’t thinkin’.”

“Soon’s Tanner came and told us, we sent for Preacher Webb. He’s near as good at healin’ the body as at healin’ the soul.”

“It’ll be good to see him. It’s good to see you, Mr. Monahan.”

Tanner gave Rusty a critical study. “You’re lookin’ mighty drawed.”

Tanner had looked “mighty drawed” to Rusty ever since they had first met. He had barely enough flesh to hold his bones together. “The worst day I ever had, I looked better than you do. But you look pretty good to me right now, you and that wagon.”

Monahan nodded at his son. “You hurry and spread a couple of blankets in the wagon. We’ll do good to make it to the farm before dark tomorrow.”

Billy complied. Rusty gritted his teeth and held his breath while Tanner and Billy lifted him. Movement set the leg to hurting badly again. Tanner threw Rusty’s saddle, blanket, and few possibles into the wagon bed, then tied Alamo on behind. He said, “Before you get into another Indian fight, you’d better train this horse to mind.”

“It was his first time up so close. Mine, too.”

“Probably won’t be the last. Now, don’t you linger any longer than you have to. The state ain’t payin’ you to idle around.”

“Or for anything else.” Rusty reached over the sideboard to shake Tanner’s hand. “You watch out some Comanche doesn’t slip up on the blind side of you and cut your hair.”

Monahan and his son climbed up onto the seat. Monahan cautioned, “It’ll be rough in spots, so take a grip. The Comanches never built any roads out here, and neither has the state.”