ook my mother home with him. She died a few months later, when
I was born.

"It was only after my grandfather died, two years ago, that letters from
my father were found among his private papers. These I discovered when I
came home from the war, learning that my father was alive and here in
Arizona. Only we were strangers ... I did not know whether he would like
me for a son, or whether I wanted a stranger for a father. So, when I came
here I took the name of my _compadre_, my friend from the war, Anse Kirby.
I wanted to know my father before I made my claims."

"And _Senor_ Juanito--for this he will hate you!"

"Because I did not tell who I was at the start?" Drew asked.

"No--because you are truly _Don_ Cazar's son. Always _Don_ Cazar, he
treated _Senor_ Juanito as a son, but I do not think that was enough.
_Senor_ Juanito, he is one who must have everything, all. Even when he was
a boy, he was like that. Bartolome Rivas, he braids beautiful ropes, and
he made one for Juanito. Always I wanted a rope like that. I would watch
Juanito use it and wish. Then once we spend Christmas at the Stronghold
... it was after my father was hurt and _Don_ Cazar had us to stay there
so he could tend my father's wounds. Had _he_ been with us when the wild
ones stampeded, my father would not walk crooked, but we got him back to
the ranch too late. But that is not what I would say. It was Christmas and
_Don_ Cazar gave to me a rope like that of Juanito, a fine rope which felt
as if it was a part of a man's own arm when he swung it. Two days later,
that rope, it was gone, never did I find it. But I knew--I had seen Juanito
watching me when I tried that fine rope. And I knew his thoughts: no one
must have a rope as good as Juanito's! Not long after that he ran away, to
join the army. But really that was because _Don_ Cazar caught him beating
one of the Indios. Only that is not generally known. The Indio was being
taught by _Don_ Cazar to have charge of the grain storage, and Juanito
thought that Indios are as dirt--should have no place among Anglos. _Senor_
Juanito would hate with a black hate anyone who had a right to be a son at
the Stronghold, a better right than he could claim. He must always be on
top, at the head. Sometimes it would seem that he would, if he could, push
aside _Don_ Cazar himself.... Now I think we should ride again."

By dawn Drew had no idea where they were except that they pushed south.
Whether they were now on