After an hour he still saw no sign that anyone wras in or around the cabin. Andy volunteered, “I’ll go see for sure. Nobody’s lookin’ for me.”

Tanner said, “Even if they was, they wouldn’t know you. You don’t look Indian anymore with your hair cut.”

Andy rode up to the cabin, circling it first, then entering. Shortly he reappeared and waved for Rusty and Tanner to come on. He waited for them at the dog run. “Rusty,” he said, “you won’t like what you see. It’s a boar’s nest in there.”

Rusty knew Tom Blessing had hauled away everything that could be moved so the Oldhams would not get it. Someone had brought in a brokenbacked table and a couple of wooden boxes that evidently served in place of chairs. Two iron pots and a tin bucket sat on the cold hearth, smelling of spoiled meat, grease, and congealed beans. Coffee grounds had been spilled across the floor between the hearth and the table. Two tin plates held remnants of the last meal someone had eaten here. A piece of corn bread had molded almost to the color of gray ash.

Tanner said, “Somebody’s mother sure didn’t teach them much.”

Rusty replied, “Looks like the time I was gone to the rangers and Fowler Gaskin moved in. Took lye soap and lots of water to get the stink out.”

Andy said, “We can throw all this stuff away and at least sweep out a little.” He looked for a broom but did not find one.

Rusty said, “Never mind. It’d just tell the Oldhams that somebody had been here. They’d figure it was me.” He felt resentful, remembering how hard Mother Dora had worked to keep the cabin clean. “Let’s shut the door behind us and leave things the way they are. I’ve got a visit to make.”

Tanner said, “There ain’t nobody left to see.”

Rusty did not ansWer him. He rode to the small rock-fenced plot that served as the Shannon family cemetery. Tanner and Andy trailed. Stepping down from the saddle, Rusty handed the reins to Andy and opened the wooden gate. He stopped before the stone markers and took off his hat. For a long time he stood, staring, remembering.

Andy’s voice broke into his consciousness. “Rusty, there’s a rider comin’ this way. We’d better be movin’ down to the timber.”

Rusty tried to see him but could not. Andy’s eyes Were sharper than his own. He hoped they were sharper than those of the oncoming horseman. Turning again to the stones, he said, “Daddy Mike, Mother Dora, they’ve stole this place from us for Now. But I swear to you we’ll get it back.”