y?" He inquired with no
more than usual solicitude, but there was a faint trace of amusement in
his small smile.

Kirby met the challenge promptly. "Ably, suh, ably!" He raised his
half-filled glass. "To your very good health, suh. I don't know when
I've had me a more satisfyin' drink!"

Pryor bowed. He was still smiling as he glanced at Drew.

"You have business in Cadiz, suh? Beyond that of swapping that
firebreather of yours for another mount, I mean? Perhaps I can be of
service in some other way...."

Drew cradled his glass in both hands. The condensing moisture made it
slippery, but the chill was pleasant to feel.

"Do you have any news about the Cumberland River, suh?" he asked. Pryor
might have usable information, and there was no reason to disguise that
part of their objective. Short of turning about and fighting their way
through about a quarter of the aroused Yankee army, the fugitives did
have to cross the Cumberland and the Tennessee, and do both soon.

"The Cumberland, suh, is not apt to give you much trouble." Pryor sipped
at his glass with a relish. "If, of course, you contemplate a try at the
Tennessee--that will be a different matter. I trust your commander will
be amply prepared for difficulties there. But General Morgan is not to
be easily caught napping, or so his reputation stands. I wish you the
best of luck."

"Is that your horse out there, young man?" the proprietor of the
drugstore addressed Drew. "That big stallion?"

Drew put his glass on the counter and spun around. "What's he doin'
now?"

"Nothing," Hale returned quickly. "Ransome!" Out of nowhere Hale's
servant appeared. "Get the saddlebags from that horse."

Surprised at this highhanded demand for his property, Drew waited for
enlightenment. When Ransome returned with the bags, Hale took them,
moved quickly to a cabinet, and unlocked it. By handfulls he took small
boxes from the shelves inside, added some paper packets, and then
buckled the straps tightly over the new bulge.

"I understand," he said in his dry, precise voice, "there is a pressing
need for quinine, morphine, and the like in the South?"

Drew could only nod as Hale held out the bags.

"Give this to your surgeon, young man, with my compliments. There is
little enough we can do, but this is something."

Drew stammered his thanks, knowing that those boxes and packets crammed
into his bags meant a fortune to a blockade runner, but far more to men
in the improvi