ed his side arms in their holsters. He always hated this
business, but it was part of a day's work in the cavalry now. He just
hoped that he wouldn't have to do his impressing at gun point. He
entrusted saddle and blanket to Boyd, but made the other wait outside
the farmyard twenty minutes later as he shepherded the gelding into the
enclosure where chickens squawked and ran witlessly and a dog hurled
himself to the end of a chain, giving tongue like a hound on a hot
scent.

Drew skirted that defender, moving toward the barn. But he was still
well away from the half-open door when a woman hurried out, a basket in
her hands, her face picturing surprise and apprehension. She stopped
short to stare at Drew.

"Who are you--what do you want?" Her two questions ran together in a
single breathless sentence. Drew looked beyond her. No one else issued
from the barn or came in answer to the dog's warning. He took off his
hat.

"I need a horse, ma'am." He said it bluntly, impatiently. After all, how
could you make a demand like that more courteous or soft? The very fact
that he had been driven to this made him angry.

For a moment she looked at him uncomprehendingly, and then her eyes
shifted to the gelding. She came forward a step or two, and there was a
blaze of anger in the gaze she directed once more to the man.

"That horse's galled raw!" She accused.

"Don't you think I know it?" he returned abruptly. "That's why I have to
have another mount."

A quick step back and she was between him and the door of the barn,
holding the basket as a shield between them. It was full of eggs.

"You won't get one here!" she snapped.

"Ma'am"--Drew had his temper under control now--"I don't want to take
your horse if you have one. But I'm under orders to keep up with the
company. And I'm goin' to do what I have to...."

He dropped the gelding's reins, walked forward, hoping she wouldn't make
him push around her. But apparently she read the determination in his
face and stood aside, her expression bleak now.

"There's only King in there," she said. "And I wish you the joy of him,
you thief!"

King proved to be a stallion, stabled in a box stall. Drew hesitated.
The stud might be mean, harder to handle even than the gelding. But it
was either taking him or being put afoot. If he could back this one even
as far as Calhoun tomorrow--or the next day--he might be able to make a
better exchange in town. It would depend on just how hard