The raiding party had evidently ransacked at least a couple of homes, for they had picked up such miscellaneous treasures as some cooking pots, a clock, and a couple of hand-sewn quilts of intricate design. These had more appeal to them than to the Comancheros, but Martinez was receptive to trading for as many of their stolen horses and mules as they chose to offer. Because horses were precious commodities to the Indians, they were willing to part with only a few. They were happy to trade the mules, which they considered inferior to the horses.

Martinez and the cart men spread out their trading goods for the Indians’ inspection. As Andy expected, there were mostly knives, hatchets, beads, blankets, and the like. Negotiations seemed to continue for hours, jovial at first but taking on a more and more serious air as the evening wore on. At a critical stage Martinez uncovered a jug and offered it as a gesture of goodwill.

Andy turned away, wishing it had not happened. He had observed the chaos whiskey could cause in a Comanche camp. But Martinez wisely restricted the gift to a single jug, enough to loosen the Indians’ spirits, yet not enough to get them recklessly drunk. Each time the jug was passed around, Martinez made a show of drinking from it. Andy doubted much actually passed his lips, for the trader would want to keep his wits sharp. As the stack of dry wood beside the campfire gradually dwindled, the Indians traded off more of their horses than they intended and settled for fewer of the trade goods.

Andy decided Martinez could skin a prairie chicken without mussing its feathers.

At daylight Martinez took stock of the horses and mules he had acquired. “These I can sell for good money in Taos or Santa Fe. Not bad for an evening of work.”

Andy pointed out, “All these are stolen stock. They belong to somebody.”

“Yes, they do. To me.”

Martinez considered it good policy to move on early while most of the Indians still slept, lest some begin to reconsider their transactions in full sunlight. The extra animals were tied together on long ropes and led rather than herded. Not until they had put a couple of hours behind them did he allow the cart men to stop and fix a simple breakfast.

Andy said, “I thought you had no fear of Indians.”

“Not fear. Caution. Indians sometimes change their minds.”

“If you didn’t cheat them, you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“Who cheated them? All was done in the open, where everyone could see. I made no one to trade. It was of their own choice.”

“With a little help from the whiskey.”

Martinez frowned. “Do you want to go with us and find that boy, or not?”

“I’ve got no choice.”

“Then keep eyes open, and ears, but mouth shut.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN