Andy kept walking. He focused his main attention on Fights with Bears, but he tried to watch the line of Comanches to the rear as well. If they decided to rush him he would have no chance. But Bears was Andy’s immediate concern. The rest were likely to take their cue from him. Bears had no firearm that Andy could see. He held a lance and had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

Andy had the advantage. His rifle was loaded and cocked. He stopped twenty feet short of the horseman. He felt cold sweat on his forehead and hoped Bears could not see it. He said, “I am the one you asked for.”

Bears looked at the rifle. “You have come armed.”

“You are armed, too/’ The lance had a sharp-looking flint point, fashioned for killing buffalo. Bears could drive it all the way through Andy’s body if he so chose.

Bears’s eyes were fierce. “You stole the boy that belonged to me.”

“He never did belong to you. He belongs to his mother and father.”

“I won him in battle.”

“It was no battle. You killed a helpless old man and took the boy. They had no chance.”

“No matter. He was mine. You stole him from me. You owe me something.”

“A fight?” Andy raised the muzzle of the rifle an inch. “I could kill you before you could move.”

“My warriors would kill you before you drew another breath.”

“And there are enough white men at this place to kill them all. Who would be the winner? Not your warriors. Not you or me.”

Bears tried to show defiance, but his eyes reflected frustration. “You have a good fighting spirit. I would take you in place of the boy.”

“I would never be accepted. I have killed one of The People. I am told that the one who died was a brother to your wives. They would gladly hack me to pieces.”

Bears’s mouth twisted as he contemplated the impasse. “It is a matter of honor. I must satisfy my honor.”

“Perhaps you would like to have my scalp.”

That surprised and puzzled the Comanche.

Andy said, “Here, I will give it to you.” Laying down his rifle, he drew his knife. He reached up for one of his braids, cut it off and tossed it. Bears almost dropped his lance in grabbing for it. Andy cut off the other and threw it. Bears missed it but picked it up from the ground with the point of his lance.

Andy retrieved his rifle. “You can have a scalp dance over those.”

For a moment Bears seemed perplexed. Then he raised the braids high over his head and gave a loud, victorious whoop. The warriors behind him took up the cry. Bears rode slowly forward, lowering the lance.