Webb said, “Andy, you might ought to stick those braids under your hat. We didn’t bring you this far to have the army take you away from us.”

Two riders were in civilian clothes. They sat awkwardly, hands tied to their saddles. Two soldiers held rifles ready for action. The third straightened up with some difficulty. Rusty recognized the uniform of a lieutenant. He lowered his rifle and stepped forward.

“You-all come on in. We’re peaceful.”

The two enlisted men were black. One wore sergeant’s stripes. The officer’s dusty coat showed a dark bloodstain on the shoulder. A bulge indicated a heavy bandage beneath it. The lieutenant’s face was drained to a pale clay color.

Both prisoners were heavily bearded. Rusty looked a second time before he recognized them. “Pete Dawkins!” The other man was Dawkins’s running mate Scully.

The lieutenant glanced apprehensively toward the two enlisted men. He seemed reassured to see they had not relaxed their stance with the rifles. He asked Rusty, “You know these prisoners?” His cautious manner told Rusty it would be better to deny any acquaintance.

“I wish I could say I don’t. It’s been my bad luck to know them for several years.”

The officer eased a bit, though the two troopers remained stiffened for a possible fight.

Rusty asked, “What’ve they been up to this time?”

Cagily the officer said, “I hope you have no interest in setting them free. My men would drop you in a moment.”

“No need to worry about us. I arrested Pete myself once, when I was with the rangers. He was stealin’ horses.”

“Then he’s still at the same trade. He’s just not very good at it.”

“Who’d he hit this time?”

“A good Union family just north of here. Horse people.”

“By the name of Monahan?”

“That’s right. The Monahan men fought them off, but this Dawkins wounded one.”

“Which one? Do you know the name?”

“Evan Gifford. Are you acquainted with him?”

Rusty grimaced. “I know his wife. Good woman. They’re good people, all of them. How bad was he hurt?”

“They said he was wounded worse in the war and got over that. He will recover from this.”

Rusty knew his compassion should be for Evan Gifford, but most of it was for Geneva. He imagined how it must have shaken her to see her husband brought in shot, again. “Damn you, Pete, haven’t you Dawkinses caused the Monahans grief enough?”

Sullen, Pete Dawkins looked past Rusty as if he could not see him. Scully’s head was down, his shoulders pinched in an attitude of despair.

The lieutenant said, “We had some trouble capturing these two. They killed one of my troopers and put a bullet through my shoulder.”

Rusty said, “You look like you could use some help. We’d be glad to be of service to you.”