His horse never made it to the hill. He stepped in a badger hole and went down, slamming Pete to the ground. Pete arose on hands and knees, struggling for breath, coughing at the dust in his throat.

Scully was frightened. “You hurt, Pete?”

“I’m all right. Catch my horse. Don’t let him get away.”

“He ain’t goin’ noplace. He’s crippled.”

The animal limped heavily, favoring its right forefoot. Pete was dismayed. “Damned stupid horse!” He was angry enough to shoot the animal, but his rifle lay on the ground where the fall had spilled it. Legs wobbly, Pete walked over and picked up the weapon. He saw that the barrel was clogged with dirt. Firing it would be dangerous. It might explode in his hands.

Scully was long-faced. “What we goin’ to do now? Your horse ain’t fit to go on. If we try to ride this one double we’ll break it down before we get to the river.”

Pete quickly made up his mind. “We won’t ride it double. Get down, Scully.”

“Get down? What for?”

“Because I said so.” He swung the rifle’s muzzle toward his partner. “Get down.”

Scully reluctantly complied. “What’re you fixin’ to do?”

Pete took the reins from Scully’s hand and swung into the saddle. “I’m takin’ your horse.”

“But what about me?”

“What about you? I’m sick of your bitchin’ and complainin’. I ought to’ve left you behind a long time ago.”

Scully’s voice was near the breaking point. “What’ll I do?”

“You’ll walk like hell if you know what’s good for you. Run, if you can. Or find you a hole somewhere and pull it in after you.” He reined Scully’s horse around and started north.

For a while he could hear Scully’s voice, pleading, as Scully tried to run after him. He put the horse into a lope and soon outdistanced his partner. When he finally looked back he saw Scully sitting on the ground, a picture of despair.

Rusty did not know what to expect as he rode in to the Dawkins place. Several of the colonel’s field hands were gathered in front of the big house. They seemed heavily burdened. Rusty nodded at James and the sergeant and rode up to the group. He expected hostility but saw no evidence of it. The men appeared saddened.

He said, “We’re lookin’ for Pete Dawkins. You-all seen him pass this way?”

One man took a step forward. Rusty had encountered him before, though he could not remember his name. The black man said, “He done come and gone. Him and that Scully. Caught fresh horses and left yonderway.” He indicated to the north.

“How long ago?”

The man looked at his companions and shrugged. “A right smart of a while. Ain’t got no watch.”

“Didn’t say where he was headed?”