any more." Anse hurriedly pulled it from the sling.
"Anyways, that ain't m' shootin' hand, neither!" But one look at Hunt
Rennie's face reduced him to muttering.

Drew watched their preparations quietly. Then he gathered up two canteens
and filled them at the water hole, went back to loop their carry straps
over Hunt Rennie's saddle horn. Anse had a bad arm, so it was right that
he should not go chasing hell-for-leather over rough country. But Drew
Rennie--he was left because he was useless in another way. He was a man who
could not be depended upon, who had sprung their trap because he cared
more for a horse than he did for the success of Rennie's mission.

And in a way Hunt Rennie was perfectly just in that judgment. If it were
all to do over again, Drew knew he would make exactly the same choice.
Shiloh was his--about the only good thing he had ever possessed, or might
ever have in the future. If, in order to keep Shiloh, he had to give up
what he knew now was a very vague dream--he would surrender the dream every
time.

Although he knew that was the truth, the Kentuckian was desperately
unhappy as he made a lengthy business of adjusting the canteens. About the
worst words one could ever speak, or think, were "too late." This was all
too late--twenty years too late. They might have had something good
together, he and Hunt Rennie. Now it was too late.

As Drew heard the crunch of boots on gravel close behind him, he swung
around. "Full canteens," he blurted out. And then, ashamed of his own
confusion, he forced himself to look straight at his father. "Good luck,
suh."

"We'll need it. I'm leaving you Jose--he'll do some prowling. Wouldn't do
for you to be jumped by Apaches. If we don't come back in three or four
days and Shiloh's able to travel, you take the Mexican and head back to
the Stronghold--understand? I mean that."

"Yes, suh." Drew had lost his right to protest, lost it the instant he had
betrayed their ambush. Now he turned quickly and hurried to where Shiloh
stood. The last thing he wanted to see was Hunt Rennie ride away.

Anse kicked earth over the fire when they were gone. "No use showin'
smoke," he remarked, and Drew readily agreed. The horses, with the
exception of Shiloh, were hobbled and allowed the restricted freedom of
the pocket-sized meadow running back from the water hole. Anse and Drew
divided the night into two-hour watches.

"Don't see as how they'd be fool enough to try chewin' back