Rusty realized James had no intention of bringing Pete back alive. He looked for Bailey’s reaction.

The sergeant said, “He’s goin’ to die anyway. Why not save the army some money?”

Rusty led the way out. The tracks were easy to follow, for Pete had made no apparent effort to hide them. They indicated that his and Scully’s horses had run hard for the first mile or so, then slowed. The course was due north.

“Headin’ for the Red River the quickest way they can,” Rusty speculated.

James nodded. “Probably think they’ll be safe when they get to the Nations. But they’ve stolen a way too many Indian horses. If any of them so-called friendlies recognize them, their lives won’t be worth a Confederate dollar.”

They came at length upon a crippled horse, standing with its head down. It turned away, trying to move on three legs.

Grimly James said, “Pete and Scully must be ridin’ double. They’re as good as dead now.” He rode over for a closer look at the lame horse. He drew his pistol to shoot it but changed his mind. “I don’t think its leg is broke. Just taken a bad sprain.”

Rusty removed the saddle and bridle, dropping them to the ground so the horse could move unencumbered.

A little farther on, a man afoot spotted them about the same time they saw him. He began to run, stumbling, falling, getting up, and running again. James spurred ahead of Rusty and Bailey, his pistol in his hand.

“If that’s Pete . . .”

Rusty soon saw that the fugitive was Scully.

James shouted, “Stop, Scully.”

Scully darted to the left. James fired at the ground just past him. Scully darted back to the right. James fired again, the bullet kicking up dirt at Scully’s feet. Scully dropped to his knees and began to cry.

“Don’t shoot me! I never killed nobody!”

Rusty thrust the pistol into Scully’s face. “where’s Pete?”

Scully had trouble controlling his voice. “He crippled his horse. He took mine and went on. Bound for the Nations.”

James glanced at Rusty. “Just like we figured.”

Rusty asked, “How far ahead is he?”

“I don’t know. An hour. Maybe two.”

“By the tracks, he’s been pushin’ hard.”

“He don’t care if he kills a horse. He just cares about gettin’ away.”

Rusty beckoned James and Bailey to one side. “What’ll we do about Scully? Anybody want to stay and watch him?”

James said, “I vote we shoot him right here.”

Bailey said, “The lieutenant would be right put out about that. Anyway, it’s the other one we want the most.”

Rusty turned to Scully. “We’re goin’ on after Pete. You start walkin’ back to the Dawkins place. We’ll pick you up there.”

James protested, “How do we know he won’t keep walkin’?”

“Because he knows the army’ll hunt him down and hang him like a sheep-killin’ dog.”

Scully cried, “I never killed nobody. The army’s got no call to hang me.”

“Then you wait for us at Dawkins’s. Maybe Sergeant Bailey will testify for you.”