e to do. Then Drew
had the odd sensation that the two of them were all alone in a place not
bound by space or time.

"Don't say you're sorry. If you did, I wouldn't believe you. You made the
move you had to. If it had been Oro out there--I would have done the same."

Drew responded to that impulsively. "You're generous, suh."

His father's black brows drew together in a slight frown. "Generous? No,
that's the truth. As for losing Kitchell--we may not have. Those who got
away have Greyfeather, Nye, and others on their trail. And I do not think
they will find such hunters easy to fool. Also, we have a prisoner...."

_Don_ Cazar's acceptance of their failure was so placid that Drew was led
to make a wild guess.

"Not Kitchell himself!"

Rennie smiled. "No, we weren't that lucky--_you_ must have had the lion's
share of that commodity here today. We have a Mexican, name unknown. He
was shot down while trying to pick up the rider Shiloh got rid of--who just
might have been Kitchell. But this prisoner may be moved to tell us about
the three who got away. If these wind storms keep up, they could powder
over the trail and the boys will need help."

The Mexican, his shoulder bandaged, was propped up against the saddle they
had taken from Shiloh. He stared at them sullenly, his gaze finally
centering on _Don_ Cazar when they took places opposite him.

"Some of that coffee for him, Chino," Rennie called. Herrera brought over
a tin cup from the fire now blazing. As the Mexican took it awkwardly with
his left hand, still watching Rennie glassily over the brim, the latter
used fluent Spanish, only a word or two of which Drew understood.

The man grunted and then was assailed by Chino in a hotter flow of his
native tongue, until Rennie silenced the vaquero's outburst with a wave of
hand and spoke again.

Drew sniffed the aroma of the bacon Donally was frying, his stomach
protesting plaintively.

"What are they sayin'?" he whispered to Anse.

"Old Man pointed out nice an' plain what th' Mex's in for, lessen he
speaks up. This hombre, Rennie thinks maybe he don't run regular with
Kitchell--more'n likely he came up from th' south, could be to guide th'
gang back there some place. Iffen th' Mex can prove that, th' Old Man
promises to talk for him with th' law. So far he ain't said nothin' much
in answer."

They ate. The prisoner's round face expressed surprise when Rennie had him
provided with an equal share. He sucked his g