A shadow fell across the moonlit pen. Looking up, he saw the outline of a man with a rifle or shotgun.

“No shoot! No shoot!” he called.

The voice was Shanty’s. “Andy, is that you layin’ there? What in the Lord’s good name you tryin’ to do?”

Shanty knelt at Badger Boy’s side. “You done taken all the wrappin’ off. Wouldn’t surprise me none if that leg is busted plumb in two again.”

That was Badger Boy’s fear, too.

Shanty stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Mr. Rusty! Preacher! You-all needed out here by the barn.”

He started to help Badger Boy to his feet but thought better of it. “We better leave everything like it is ‘til the preacher man looks at you.” He shook his head, showing disapproval. “Tryin’ to skedaddle, wasn’t you? I figured some Indian was tryin’ to take Mr. Tanner’s horse. Guess I wasn’t all that far wrong.”

Badger Boy hurt too badly to try to decipher all Shanty said. He knew the gist of it.

Rusty, Webb, and Tanner all arrived at the same time. Webb picked up the fallen splints and leaned them against the fence, then carefully ran his hand up and down Badger Boy’s leg. Badger Boy winced. He tried not to make a sound, but an involuntary groan escaped him.

Webb said, “Maybe the bone held together. It’s God’s mercy if it did. Let’s carry him back up to the cabin. Real careful now. That bone’s as flimsy as an eggshell.”

Rusty demanded, “What did you do it for?”

Badger Boy ground his teeth together in an effort to fight down the pain. “No want to go with uncle. Want to go home.”

Tanner tried to make light of it. “Don’t you know they hang horse thieves?” Badger Boy had surmised that Tanner stole the bay from the bluecoats, but he hurt too much to appreciate the ironic humor.

Badger Boy lay awake most of the night, the leg throbbing, allowing him no mercy. Webb had wrapped the splints around it again after satisfying himself that the bone had not broken anew. He had said, “The Comanches raise their boys to be tough. Anybody else, that leg would be in two pieces.”

Badger Boy was unable to hold breakfast in his stomach. After a couple of tentative bites, he quit.

Webb said, “We’d best be about gettin’ you cleaned up.”