Being white did not mean the man was friendly. He had a hangman’s look about him, darkly suspicious eyes peering from beneath the drooping brim of a weather-beaten felt hat, his mouth a flat line barely visible through heavy brown whiskers. “You tryin’ to make us believe you just happened into them?”

“Yes, sir, or they just happened into me. I was headed the other direction, to Fort Belknap.”

Several sets of dark and glittering eyes stared accusingly at him. He suspected some of the Indians understood enough English to get the gist of what he had said. They argued among themselves. One pointed to the mule. Rusty feared he was claiming the animal, which would mean they had made up their minds he was a thief. He shivered, wondering how it felt to take an arrow in the chest or to have a war club smash his skull.

The white man listened intently to the Indians’ conversation, which he seemed to understand. Rusty assumed he was some kind of scout or interpreter. When the talk dwindled away, the man told Rusty, “Walkin’ Eagle says there wasn’t no mules among the bunch that was stolen.”

Rusty began to hope. “Not this one, for sure. I brought Chapultepec with me all the way up from the Colorado River. Alamo, too.” He pointed to the black horse’s brand. “That’s the Shannon brand, an S with a bar under it. I’m Rusty Shannon.”

The name meant nothing. The man pointed to the brand and said something to the Indians, part in spoken words and part in sign. They argued, but when the argument quieted down, Rusty was fairly sure none of them was claiming the brand. He breathed easier.

The white man demanded, “What’s your business at Belknap?”

Rusty pondered his answer. Given what had been done to them in recent times, it was unlikely these Indians had any good feeling toward the rangers. He repeated the evasion he had offered to the horse thief. “I’m lookin’ for some kin.”

“Who are they? Maybe I know them.”

“Our family’s the Shannons.” That was not a lie.

“I don’t recall any Shannons up that way. You sure they’re there?”

“I’m not sure of anything. But I thought I’d look.”

Rusty could see that several Indians who had followed the thieves had abandoned that chase and were helping run down the loose horses. He saw a couple of army uniforms as well.

The interpreter said, “I don’t like to call anybody a liar ‘til I know for sure, but let’s just say I ain’t done wonderin’. Soon’s the Tonkawas finish roundin’ up their horses, we’ll all head back toward Fort Belknap together. We’ll see if we can find any Shannons.”

Rusty was mildly surprised. “Tonkawas? I figured these were Comanches.”