. "What part
of Texas are you from?"

"Pa had him a spread down near th' San Sabe 'fore th' Comanches came. He
was Anson, too--in th' Rangers for a while, Pa was."

"Tall man, with a lot of freckles and red hair? Best rider in Miggs'
Company----" It was half question, half assertion.

"You knew Pa!" Anse shouldered past Drew. "That was Pa right enough. He
rode with Lieutenant Miggs in the Mex War."

Hunt Rennie was smiling. Once more years spun away from him. "I ought to
know him, son. He toted me across his saddle for a mighty long five miles
on a blistering hot day, I having as much to say about the matter as a
sack of corn, and being three times as heavy in spite of a starvation
diet. Yes, I'll remember Anson Kirby. He and his squad were the first
Americans I ran into after I broke out of a filthy prison. Funny
though"--he glanced at Drew--"I don't remember his mentioning a brother. You
_are_ his nephew?"

Anse was quick to the rescue. "Pa--he an' Drew's Pa--they weren't too close.
Drew's Pa was town folks. He sent Drew to Kaintuck for schoolin'. Pa, he
favored th' range an' th' free land west--"

Rennie nodded. "Well, Anson, if you're as good a rider as your father, we
can use you here. Horse knowledge seems to run in your family. Now,
shortly we are expecting a _Coronel_ Luis Oliveri who's to buy horses for
the Juarez forces. He may need some assistance in driving them as far as
the border. If he does, both of you'll go."

"Yes, suh."

Drew's agreement was drowned out by a harsh cry from overhead. Rennie went
into action, so swiftly that for a startled moment Drew was left gaping at
empty space. _Don_ Cazar had caught up one of the rifles from under a
window and had crossed the doorway to look back at the roof of the Casa
Grande, calling out an inquiry in another language.

"Apaches don't attack at night!" Drew was heading for the door in turn.

"Outlaws do, when it pays," Anse shot out grimly.

But on a second hail from the rooftop sentry post Rennie swung the rifle
over his arm and faced the outer gate of the patio.

"Unbar, Francisco!" he called in Spanish.

One leaf of the massive door folded back to allow in a small party of
horsemen. One saddled but riderless mount galloped along with the rest.
Another man held to the high horn with both hands and weaved back and
forth while a comrade riding beside him strove to keep him from toppling
to the ground. Drew had an impression of bright, almost gaud