Flynn was puzzled. He said, "And why is it necessary that I speak Mimbre?"

Soldado smiled, showing yellowed teeth. "So that you may tell our children your story."

"I'm leaving now," Rellis said.

Lazair was looking toward the tarp shelter of the cave, following the girl's movements as she gathered the tin plates, scraping and stacking them, and as she picked them up she glanced toward Lazair then turned away quickly when she saw that he was watching her. The two men were standing by the cook fire; Rellis, with his bay mare behind him.

"I said I'm leaving," Rellis repeated, impatiently.

"Well, go on." Lazair still watched the cave, though the girl had gone in now.

"I'm taking some men with me."

Lazair looked at him now. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Take it any way you want."

Lazair smiled faintly. "You're pretty tough, aren't you?"

"I get by."

"You'll get by with four men today," Lazair said quietly. "Lew and Warren are going back. Tell Lew to bring two more." He waited, but Rellis made no reply.

"Doesn't that suit you?"

Rellis shrugged lazily, but his eyes were hard on the other man's face. "They tell me you're the boss."

"You don't sound like you're sure of it."

He shrugged again. "You can't believe everything you hear."

There was a silence. Then Lazair said quietly, "Believe it, Frank. Even if you never believe anything else." He turned away then and moved off toward the cave, taking his time.

Rellis mounted the bay, then looked after Lazair a long moment before calling to the men standing off by the horses. They stared up at him idly.

"Lew, you and Warren…and two more!"

Lew Embree nodded to two of the men and one of them said, "We got us another boss." Rellis was moving off and did not hear him. They mounted then, resignedly, and followed Rellis down through the defile to the meadow.

Lew glanced up to the rocks and shouted, "Wesley, you keep awake, now!" to the guard, and then laughed. Warren laughed with him. They crossed the meadow at a trot, but slowed to a walk as the grass sloped over into the pines, beginning the long winding descent. Down farther, where the trail widened, Lew spurred to ride next to Rellis.

"Curt's going to get that girl yet, you wait and see." Lew grinned.

"I don't give a damn who he gets," Rellis answered shortly. Then he said, "How far to the pueblo?"

"About three, four hours," Lew said. "Depending how fast you go."

"I want to get there quick."

"The country ain't built for going too fast. She closes in on you and you can't see ahead in some places."

"I'm not looking for anything."

"But the 'Paches might be looking for you."

Rellis turned on one hip to look at Lew. "You scared of them?"

"Much as anybody else is," Lew said. "It's when you can't see 'em but can feel 'em is when I'm scared. Like just seeing their smoke curling up in the hills and then when you get on ahead there's another smoke rise and you know they're passing the word that you're coming. We was over deeper in the Madres once and we seen this smoke, but we kept going and soon there was this canyon that was still as a tomb-just rocks that went up and up and up and then sky. There wasn't a sound but the horses. Then if you'd listen close, you'd hear the wind playing over the rocks. You'd stretch your neck looking up those walls and there was just that dead stillness…and the hum of the breeze, which you didn't count because it would be there even if nobody was about.

"We moved down the middle, about fifty yards from both sides. Then all of a sudden I heard this swish and a thud and right next to me Wesley's brother…you know that boy that was on guard?…Wes's brother falls out of the saddle with a arrow sticking out of his neck. Mister, we got out of there fast."

"Was Curt there?" Rellis said.

"Sure he was there."

"You feel any 'Paches now?"

"I feel 'em most every time I ride to the pueblo."

"Maybe you should've stayed back there with Curt."

"Maybe I'd like to have."

Rellis said now, "He doesn't care much what happens to you or the rest, does he?"

"What do you mean?"

"He would've sent you and Warren back alone if I hadn't been going out and said something."

"We rode in alone."

"That's what I mean," Rellis said. "He knows there's 'Paches around. How come you and Warren got to ride back and forth alone?"

"You can get used to anything," Lew said, looking at Rellis closely now, "even a feeling."

"Just sits there working up his nerve to grab chiquita and lets you do all the work."

"You don't like it?"

"Hell no."

"Why don't you get out then?"

Rellis looked at him. "Just keep your goddamn nose where it belongs."

"You do a lot of pushing for one man."

"You going to do anything about it?"

Lew said nothing.

"Then keep your mouth shut."

"A man's got to talk about something."

Rellis did not answer. He rolled a cigarette and drew on it without taking it from his mouth, watching the trail.

For a short while, Lew remained silent, then he said, "I'm going up ahead a ways and look around." Rellis shrugged and Lew said, half turning in the saddle, "Warren, come on."

Rellis watched them move off, bearing to the right, climbing to higher ground, parallel with the trail but into the pines where they could watch the country below without being seen.

He pinched the cigarette stub from his mouth and ground it out between his fingers, crumbling tobacco and paper, then let the breeze take the particles from his open palm. His eyes, light colored, mild, and contrasting oddly with the coarseness of his features, were focused on the trail ahead, because you had to be careful. And partly because he was thinking and did not want distractions. Thinking about what he would do to a tall, thin man with a light mustache who wore a shoulder rig and who thought he was so goddamn smart. You should have pulled the trigger. What the hell was wrong with you! he thought. Well, you won't back down next time. Then he thought: I didn't back down! The son of a bitch had something under the cloth. He wouldn't have been so smart if he hadn't. You played it careful, that's all. He won't have a chance to get anything ready this time. And it's him, all right. It's his description. And I can even feel it's him, the son of a bitch.

He thought of the things he could do to Flynn. Get him when he's turned around and go up behind him and say something like…"Aren't you going to say hello to your old friend?" And when the son of a bitch turns around, jam the pistol into his gut and let go…and watch the expression on his face… He smiled thinking of this. And if that other one's with him, he'll get his, too. Like that old man with the beard who thought he was so smart laughing all the time.

Then Warren was standing just off the trail in a small clearing. His horse was not in sight. He held one hand palm-toward-them and the other hand was to his mouth.

Rellis dismounted and led his horse toward him. "What's the matter?"

" 'Paches."

"Where?"

"Down below. Going into a draw that comes out just up a ways from where Lew is now."

"How many?"

"Six. But two of them have got hats on."

They left their horses and followed Warren up through the pines, then, just ahead, they could see Lew belly-down behind the rocks, his carbine pointing down the draw. Farther back, the trough between the hills was dense with trees, but here the trees thinned as the draw climbed into a rise, its steep sides falling gradually away. Lew's carbine pointed to where the riders would come out of the trees. He glanced around as he heard the others come up.

"Don't make a sound."