Whitfield saw the logic and nodded in reluctant agreement. “I’ll take one man with me in case I fall off my horse and can’t get back on by myself. I’m leavin’ you in charge Rusty. You and the sergeant.” He made a point of leaving the lieutenant out.

Billings was freshly mounted on a horse Rusty had caught. It was skittish, fighting its head. Rusty hoped it would keep the officer so busy staying in the saddle that he could cause no trouble. A brand on its hip indicated it had belonged to some settler before a Comanche had laid claim. Billings objected, “We’ve already lost a lot of time. This wasn’t our responsibility in the first place, chasing somebody else’s Indians.”

Whitfield said, “You can go with me back to camp. The rest’ll come along when they finish the job.”

That suggestion was met in the same sour spirit it was given. “I intend to file a protest when we return to Austin. You people will have hell to pay.”

Whitfield grimaced at the pain in his hip. “File and be damned. Take over, Rusty.” He turned his horse and started away, giving no indication that he cared whether Billings came along or not.

Sergeant Forrest said, “I’ll go with the rangers.”

Billings accepted the decision with poor grace. “You make certain you still have all of them when you get back to Belknap.”

Forrest’s only answer was a grunt that could mean anything or nothing. He glanced at Rusty. “You’re holdin’ the cards.”

Rusty nodded. “We’ll do what the captain said . . . back off and give them room. If that’s all right with you.”

“It’s all right with me if we don’t see Austin before next Christmas.”

They waited afoot, giving their horses a chance to rest. After a time, several warriors who had not lost their mounts returned to retrieve the man who had fallen. They lifted him and placed him belly-down on a black pony. Shortly they caught up to several who were afoot, some of them wounded. The rangers followed at a couple of hundred yards, close enough to be an irritant but not enough to present an immediate threat.

Len Tanner remarked, “To them, we must be like mosquitoes that buzz around your face but don’t bite.”

Rusty said, “We want them to know we could bite if they was to give us reason.”

It did not appear that the Indians were going to give them reason. They trudged northward at a pace slow enough to accommodate those who had to walk.

The sergeant pulled in beside Rusty. “You were unhappy about having to kill that Indian.”

“I’ve killed Indians when I had to. This time, I oughtn’t to’ve had to. If we’d made him a prisoner, I figured the others would give up the raid.”

“They gave it up anyway. It’s my feeling that you had more reason than that.”

Rusty considered before he replied. “If things had taken a different turn a long time ago, I might’ve been ridin’ with them myself.”