“You’ve already shown that you can’t protect us. All we’re after now is justice, and to get back that boy and our stock. We’d rather have you with us than against us, but we’ll do what we have to no matter which way you go.”

Blessing stopped his horse and looked at the ground. He rode a little farther and stopped again. “They’ve split off into several bunches. We can’t follow them all.”

Mike frowned at Rusty and Preacher Webb. “Ain’t no way to tell what bunch took the boy.”

Webb nodded. “It won’t matter. Whichever trail we follow, it will soon disappear. I’m surprised they’ve let us track them this far.”

The officer overheard. “They did it because they wanted you to follow. It’s a Comanche trick to make you believe our reservation Indians were responsible.”

Isaac York argued, “Ignorant savages, they’re not smart enough to figure out a scheme such as that.”

“You’ve not seen them from my vantage point. Just because they cannot read books does not mean they lack native intelligence. They are as smart as any of us.”

“You sayin’ it don’t make it so,” York retorted. “Ain’t no two of them got the brains of a white man.”

Exasperated, the officer went silent.

Blessing chose a trail that seemed the largest. “We’ll follow this one and see where it takes us.”

It did not take them far. It led to a stream that the officer said was a tributary to the Clear Fork of the Brazos. There it vanished. Tracks were visible to the edge of the water, but none appeared on the other side. Blessing divided the detail, sending half upstream and half down. The soldiers also split, half following one group of Texans, half the other. The officer remained with Blessing.

The search was futile. The point of exit could not be found.

Isaac York fumed. “Crafty bastards. Let’s go back and follow one of the other trails.”

Blessing shook his head. “Wouldn’t be of no use. It’d end up just like this one. When they want to, Indians can disappear like dust after a whirlwind.”

“We can’t just up and quit. Let’s search every village on the reservation ‘til we find them.”

“We’re out of grub, and we’ve just about rode our horses down. Besides, do you think seven soldiers are all there is? The lieutenant can go and fetch however many he needs to stop us. And he will.”

The officer’s eyes were fierce. “You can count on it.”

For a moment Rusty feared he was about to see York go into a fit like the one they talked about at the settlement. York said, “I’ll go by myself if I have to. Just me and Shanty.”

The little black man pulled in beside him as if to give weight to the threat.

The officer said grittily, “I’d have you in irons before the sun is down.”

Blessing turned to look grimly over his men. “That won’t be necessary. We’re goin’ home . . . unless you’ve still got a foolish notion that we’re under arrest.”