Jake scowled. “I don’t see no shovel.”

Burmeister pointed to a bend in the ravine where runoff water had deposited a layer of stones. “Rocks will cover him finely enough.”

The burying went slowly because the three smugglers had to carry the stones an armload at a time to the top of the ravine. Their shirts were soon soaked with sweat.

Rusty asked the captain, “Ought we to go back and find them other two?”

“We have these. Indians will get the rest perhaps. Better we get the little boy home to his family.”

Tanner agreed. “I want to be there and see the look on his mama’s face.”

Rusty thought of Geneva’s despair and the futility he had felt in any effort to comfort her. The reunion would be a joyous moment for the Monahans. He knew he would stand back and watch in lonely silence. He was not part of the family, not that one or any other.

The afternoon was wearing down when Burmeister judged the grave to be covered well enough. He asked Jake, “Do you wish to say words over your friend?”

Jake’s hands were rough and bleeding from handling the stones. He grunted. “Ain’t no use. He can’t hear them.”

Burmeister removed his hat. “But the Lord can, so I will speak to Him.” He looked up. “Lord, we send Thy way this day a lowly sinner who lost his way. Thou may send him to Heaven or to Hell, it is for Thee to judge. We are done with him. Amen.” He turned. “Let us be gone from this place.”

They were a couple of miles from the Monahan farm when James and Macy burst suddenly and unexpectedly from a grove of trees. Half the rangers raised guns before they recognized that the riders presented no threat.

James spurred up, face flushed with excitement. “You found Billy!” He reached out and threw both arms around the surprised boy. His voice was jubilant. “There’ll be a big celebration tonight.”

Burmeister said, “And time for a bit of prayer, I would hope.”

James nodded vigorously. “Preacher Webb will see to that. I swear, it was lookin’ like we’d have to bury half the family, startin’ with Billy’s mama. How’d you-all get him back?”

Rusty said, “Andy found him.”

James turned toward Andy. “I reckon it takes an Indian to know where to look. No offense meant.”

Rusty said, “The way you came bustin’ out of the timber, we could’ve shot you.”

James’s excitement diminished. “We didn’t know at first but what youall might be Indians. We been out lookin’ for sign.”

Burmeister asked, “You have seen Indians?”

“One, for sure. He showed up yesterday evenin’, watchin’ the houses. We’ve seen him two or three times, but when we go out lookin’ for him we can’t find him. We figure he’s scoutin’ us for a war party.”

Andy swallowed hard, his expression grim. “Fights with Bears. He knew where he found Billy. He knew we’d bring him back here. Most likely he’s waitin’ to try to grab him again.”