the Range he did not know. And how in the
immensity of this hostile country, they could fulfill Topham's hopes and
lead the troop patrol to Rennie's posse, was something the Kentuckian did
not even try to answer. The border lay south. If Kitchell had made such a
sweeping raid, he would be certain to run the animals in that direction,
for the outlaw was fully aware of Rennie's reputation and temper, and knew
that _Don_ Cazar would trail him with set determination.

This meant the outlaw must have set up some plan for avoiding pursuit.
Rouse the Apaches? Or prepare an ambush? Either could work. Then Bayliss'
men could be a saving factor. If the Kentuckian could locate Rennie, and
ride in to his camp--or skulk close enough to it--that should bring the
troops down.

But where was Anse? The Texan had not simply cleared out because of
imminent trouble, Drew was sure of that. Had he followed Shannon to
Mexico? This was one time when Drew could well understand the exasperation
and frustration felt by an officer whose scouts did not report in as
ordered and who had no idea of the disposition of reinforcements. Talk
about going into something blind! But still he rode at a steady,
mile-covering pace southward.

15

"Still south...." Teodoro pointed out the hoof prints deep in the soft
earth beside the water hole. Drew steadied himself with one hand on the
stirrup leathers as he stooped to see more clearly. He was groggy with
lack of sleep and felt that if he once allowed himself to slip completely
to ground level, he would not get up again.

"Rennie's riders?"

Teodoro was on one knee, conning the mass of tracks as if they were a
printed page. "_Si_--there is the mark of Bartolome Rivas' horse. It has a
misshapen hoof; the shoe must always be well fitted."

"How far are they ahead now?" Drew had come to depend upon the young
mustanger's judgment. Teodoro apparently was close to a Pima in his
ability to read trace.

"Two hours--maybe three. But they will be at the pass and there they will
stay."

"Why?"

"I think they will lay a trap for the raiders. There has been no sign that
they trail now behind driven horses. _Don_ Cazar does not pursue; he rides
to cut off the road to Mexico. Kitchell's men, they would not take the
open Sonora trail, that is folly for them. So they travel one ridden by
men with a price on their heads. If Kitchell now moves south to stay, he
will have with him all that he can carry, and