Pete shrugged. “But the will to do it ain’t in him anymore.”

Dawn was only a pink streak across the eastern sky when they rode into the Dawkins corrals. Pete’s heart jumped as he heard a wooden gate strike against a post, and he brought up the army rifle he had taken from the black sergeant. He saw lantern light at the cow shed and realized one of the house servants was already doing the morning milking.

Pete’s pulse slowed. “It’s only old Jethro. Ought to be a couple of night horses in the pen yonder. Let’s go get them.”

Scully had spooked even worse than Pete. “You don’t reckon he’d have a gun, do you?”

“Jethro wouldn’t know which end the shot comes out of. Get ahold of yourself.”

“I guess I’m nervous bein’ this close to your old man. I can’t help but remember how he was when we hanged them two Monahans. I never saw a man so cold and hard. He scared the hell out of me.”

“Used to scare me too, but no more. Ain’t nothin’ left of him but a hollow husk. A good strong wind would blow him plumb away.”

Two horses had stood in the corral overnight. The morning had become just light enough that Pete could see to rope them out, the smaller of the two for Scully, the strongest for himself.

Scully complained, “This one don’t look like he’d go all the way to the Nations. Lucky if he gets across the county line.”

“Stop belly-achin’ and throw your saddle on him. If we come across a better one somewhere, we’ll make a swap.”

The lantern came bobbing along, its faint light dancing off the corral fence. A dark figure climbed up onto the second rail and held the lantern at arm’s length.

“Who you-all? What you doin’ there?”

“It’s just me and Scully. We’re tradin’ horses.”

“Marse Pete? Old Colonel ain’t goin’ to be pleased. You remember what he told you, that he’d shoot you if you was to ever come back.”

“Well, I’m back just the same. You go on up to the house and roust him out. Tell him I want all the vittles me and Scully can pack behind our saddles. And any cash money he’s got in the house. We’ll be there soon as we finish saddlin’ up.”

Jethro climbed down, muttering. “Old Colonel, he sure ain’t goin’ to be pleased.” He went trotting off toward the big house, splashing milk from his bucket.