The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

moment Drew was left gaping at empty space. Don Cazar had caught up one of the rifles from under a window and had crossed the doorway to look back at the roof of the Casa Grande, calling out an inquiry in another language.
    “Apaches don’t attack at night!” Drew was heading for the door in turn.
    “Outlaws do, when it pays,” Anse shot out grimly.
    But on a second hail from the rooftop sentry post Rennie swung the rifle over his arm and faced the outer gate of the patio.
    “Unbar, Francisco!” he called in Spanish.
    One leaf of the massive door folded back to allow in a small party of horsemen. One saddled but riderless mount galloped along with the rest. Another man held to the high horn with both hands and weaved back and forth while a comrade riding beside him strove to keep him from toppling to the ground. Drew had an impression of bright, almost gaudy uniforms. The men of the Stronghold poured out to take the horses, helping down more than one blood-stained soldier. Their leader, a slender man with dusty goldlace banding his high collar, came directly to Rennie.
    “ Don Cazar.” His Spanish was a flood in which Drew was lost almost immediately, but Anse listened with parted lips and then translated a quick account.
    “This here’s th’ Coronel . He an’ his men was bushwhacked. Got away ’cause they met th’ wagon train goin’ south an’ whoever was eatin’ their dust huntin’ them didn’t seem to like the odds. Not Apaches, probably bandidos —”
    “Kitchell?” Drew asked.
    “My guess is they ain’t sure. Got hit quick an’ had to stampede to save their skins.”
    Oliveri’s men were taken in and Drew saw Rennie himself going from one of the wounded to another, applying bandages and once probing skillfully for a bullet. Drew commented on that, and Nye answered:
    “Old Man knows what’s he’s doin’. He ain’t no real doc, of course, but was I totin’ me a hunka lead in some serious part, I’d rather have him diggin’ for it than a lotta docs I’ve seen out here. Heard tell as how once he was plannin’ to be a real doc hisself. He sure can take care of a fella good. What I’d like to know is how them bushwhackers knew jus’ where to lay down an’ wait for Oliveri.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “This here Coronel , he was comin’ to buy hosses an’ so he was carryin’ money or else somethin’ as could pass for money. We all knowed he was comin’. But we didn’t know when or what road, an’ he wasn’t tellin’ that his side of th’ border neither. Only some jasper had such a good idea as to that what an’ where, he an’ some amigos was squattin’ back of rocks jus’ waitin’ for th’ Coronel to ride into their little pocket of fire.”
    “Mexicans could have trailed them up, cut ahead and waited—”
    “Sure. Only this operation was too slick for most bandidos . They don’t go in for timed, planned things; they jus’ cut loose when they see a chance. This was different. Only Fenner an’ some of the train guards ridin’ in spoiled their game.”
    “Kitchell then?”
    “Sounds more like. Don’t think Kitchell’s some common ridge-ridin’ bad man. He’d never’ve lasted this long was that so—not with th’ Old Man an’ th’ army an’ what law there is in th’ territory all gunnin’ for him. Plans things, Kitchell does, an’ so far his plannin’ has always paid off.
    “There’s something else true now, too. Was Kitchell plannin’ to make a break south, he’d want him a good big stake to cover him on cold nights an’ winter days. I jus’ wonder if this here ain’t th’ first of a lot of fancy raidin’ jobs. Could be he’ll hit fast an’ hard, gather up all th’ sweepin’s an’ light out. Could jus’ be.…”
    “Don’t promise us much shadin’ times, does it?” Anse remarked. “Sounds like everybody’s goin’ to have to set up a string an’ ride hosses in rotation. That is, always supposin’ your supposin’ is right.”
    “Yeah, always supposin’ that,” Nye agreed.
    CHAPTER 11
    “Magnífico!”
    Drew glanced over Shiloh’s back to the speaker. Coronel Oliveri paused in the doorway of the stable to study the stallion with almost exuberant admiration mirrored on his dark and mobile features.
    “ Don Cazar”—the Mexican officer raised a gloved hand in a beckoning gesture—“ por favor , Excellency…this one, he is of the Blood?”
    Hunt Rennie joined Oliveri. “You are right. He is indeed of the