d
natural here. "You see one who has done his own trail cooking too long."

"Ah--_el pobrete_--poor man! Surely there will be an egg!" She was gone and
Drew began covertly to study the other men in the room.

In any western town the cantina, or saloon, was the meeting place for
masculine society. Even if Hunt Rennie did not appear bodily in the Four
Jacks tonight, Drew could pick up information about his father merely by
keeping open ears. As far away as Santa Fe he had heard of Rennie's Range
and _Don_ Cazar (the name the Mexicans had given its owner, Hunt Rennie).

Escaped from a Mexican prison in 1847, believing his wife and the son he
had never seen to be dead, Hunt Rennie had gone west. In contrast to the
tragedy of his personal life, whatever Rennie had turned his hand to in
the new territory had prospered. A prospector he had grub-staked, found
the Oro Cruz, one of the richest mines in the Tubacca hills. Rennie owned
two freighting lines, one carrying goods to California, the other up from
Sonora. And his headquarters in the fertile Santa Cruz Valley was a ranch
which was also a fort, a fort even the Apaches avoided after they had
suffered two overwhelming defeats there.

That was Rennie's Range--cultivated fields, fruit orchards, _manadas_ of
fine horses. _Don_ Cazar supplied Tucson and the army posts with
vegetables and superb hams. He had organized a matchless company of Pima
Indian Scouts after the army pulled out in '61, had fought Apaches, but
had sided with neither Union nor Confederate forces. During the war years
he had more or less withdrawn within the borders of the Range, offering
refuge to settlers and miners fleeing Indian attacks. _Don_ Cazar was a
legend now, and a man did not quickly claim kinship with a legend.

"Want a room, Kirby?" Topham paused beside his table.

"No. I have to stay close to the mare."

"Yes. I can understand that. Kells is good with horses, so you needn't
worry. Ever raced that colt of yours?"

"Not officially." Drew smiled. There was that lieutenant with the supply
wagons. The man hadn't talked so loudly about Johnny Rebs after Shiloh
showed his heels to the roan the soldiers had bragged up.

"This is a sporting town when the wagons come in, and they're due
tomorrow. Johnny Shannon just rode in to report. Might be some racing. You
aim to stay on in Tubacca?"

"Have to until Shadow can trail again. How's the prospect for a job?"

"With cattle--horses--teaming?"