Rusty knew Captain Burmeister lacked men enough to make the routine work as well as it once had. Intercepting Indians would be as much a matter of luck—of being at the right place at the right time—as of organization.

Tanner said, “This ought to be the job of the United States Army, but them generals don’t see Indians as a serious problem.”

“They’re mostly stayin’ back in the settled parts of the state where Indians aren’t a problem. They spend most of their time lookin’ for Confederate conspiracies.”

“Well, I’ve learned one thing for damned sure.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever lose a war. It don’t pay.”

They were within sight of the camp when one of the scouts rode out to intercept them. His expression indicated that he was not the bearer of good news. He said, “Captain Burmeister wanted me to let you know you’ve got company waitin’ for you.”

Rusty asked, “Who is it?”

“Couple of brothers. I don’t recall the name. The younger one has just got one arm.”

Rusty frowned at Tanner. “The Oldhams. I’ve wondered how long it would take them to figure out where I’m at.” He looked back at the messenger. “Did the captain say what he wants me to do?”

“No, just said he didn’t want you ridin’ in unawares.”

Tanner said, “You take Clyde. I’ll take Buddy-Boy. We can put an end to them once and for all.”

Rusty realized Tanner was serious. “I don’t want us to kill anybody. Remember, they’re state police.”

“Damned poor recommendation.”

The scout said, “There’s a third man with them. Deputy of some kind, I think.”

The Oldham brothers and the deputy waited outside Burmeister’s tent, their stance stiff and expectant. Burmeister and two of his men stood nearby, watching them. Tanner’s rifle lay across the pommel of his saddle, ready.

Rusty dismounted, keeping his horse between himself and the Old-hams. He said, “I expected you a lot sooner, Clyde.”

“It ain’t that we didn’t try You’re a hard man to locate.”

“Now that you’ve found me, what do you figure on doin’?”

“We’ve come to arrest you.”

Rusty said, “If you plan on shootin’ me in the back again, you’ve come a long ways on a fool’s errand. I’m not goin’ with you.”

Clyde started to reach into his pocket but stopped abruptly when Tanner swung his rifle around. He swallowed hard. “I’m just goin’ after my warrant.”

Tanner said, “See that that’s all you go after.”

Buddy Oldham dropped his hand to the butt of a pistol on his hip but made no effort to draw the weapon. He stared into the muzzle of Tanner’s rifle.

Tanner said, “Better raise that hand, Buddy, or this time you’re liable to lose more than your arm.”

Buddy lifted his hand clear, his eyes flashing anger.

Clyde demanded, “Where’s that Indian kid of yours, Shannon?”

None of your damned business, Rusty thought. But he said, “He’s not here.”

“Probably runnin’ with his Comanche friends.” Clyde scowled. “When he left down yonder, we followed him. Second or third day out, a bunch of Comanches come swarmin’ down on us. I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that boy was with them. He was after our scalps.”