The village was too still for an afternoon. His carbine was in his hands, ready for use as he rode. He sat his horse in the same spot the Kid had sat earlier and looked down, then rode towards the big rock. All Dusty knew was that his friend was in need of help and he meant to see the need was not left unfulfilled.įor about an hour he rode, then brought the horse to a halt as he looked down on the village of San Juanita. He could have been shot down by the French or anything. The Kid could have been thrown by the white, but that was not likely. Dusty wasted no time in idle speculation as to why the Ysabel Kid had sent the horse, knowing only his friend was in some kind of trouble and that his help was called for. The white headed back in the direction it had come, travelling at an easy loping stride which the paint could keep up with. Dusty was better than a fair hand with a horse himself and knew the long and patient hours of training it had taken the Ysabel Kid to teach the horse the things it could do. Starting the paint forward Dusty found that his tracking ability would not be needed for the white stallion turned and loped ahead of him, only stopping to look back and make sure he was following. He could read sign fairly well, well enough to follow this line anyhow. Dusty looked down at the tracks left by the white. We’ll keep them mules moving towards Monterrey that’s what he wants.”ĭusty rode alongside the big white stallion, whispering softly to him, soothing him down, but he did not try to touch him. He looked next at Conway who grinned back at him. He watched Dusty starting towards the big white horse which was slowing down now. But I’d best go alone, I’ll have a better chance that way.”Īlden shook his head. “Take them and give them a Henry each, take enough bullets as well.” He didn’t care if the rifles were not delivered, if one of the two young men who’d aided him so much needed help. “How many men do you want to go with you?” It was then Alden showed himself to be a true gentleman. “That’s what I thought.” Dusty watched Alden riding up, then pointed to the big white stallion. That ole Nigger hoss would stay by him if he wasn’t. “Reckon he’s hurt bad some place?” Dusty asked. For a man to be left afoot it was almost certain death. In that country of vast, unpopulated miles a horse was more than a means of transport. There were few words in the West so feared as that. The white stallion was closer and still running fast but he recognised it even as had Dusty.Īfoot. “We will soon know something about you, my friend. He will arrive late in the afternoon but his advance party will be with us shortly after dawn.” He stopped for a moment, a sadistic smile on his face as he looked at the Ysabel Kid. “I have just received word from Major Duprez that he and his patrol will be joining us here tomorrow. The door opened and Bardot came in, his face showing some triumph. You can’t miss him, he’s the biggest hoss there.” “A big bloodbay tied near this end of the line. I’ve never seen a Frenchman yet who could keep a decent guard. If he doesn’t come by midnight I’ll get out of here and slide a couple of hosses from the picket-line. I don’t know what Dusty will do but I figger he won’t make a move until after dark. He’ll have headed back to the mule train and be bringing Dusty Fog along. “It’s a pity your hoss took off like that. The French don’t want to lose us rebs and they wouldn’t like it if one of their officers shot down a Confederate officer without a real good reason.” If he kills me he’ll have to have a good excuse or someone will tell General Bush.
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Only half the patrol are for him, the rest hate him. If Bardot found you loose he’d shoot us both down. “Maybe best if I leave you tied, I’ll loosen the ropes but leave them on.
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Not only that but they would also have to cross more open ground before they could get near the horse lines and the guards there were picked for their ability to shoot.
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The streets were being watched all the time and they would have to run the gauntlet of some twenty or more carbines out in the open with no cover. Mark took the knife and was about to cut the cords when both he and the Kid realised the futility of any escape plan at the moment. “I’ll let you loose right now and we’ll see about getting out of here.” If he says you boys can go through no man in his army’ll risk disobeying him.” Got a touch of Comanche in him, ole Benito, ‘less I miss my guess. He’ll keep his word and he’s got him a real kind way with him for any yahoo who disobeys him. Suddenly Mark himself was looking forward to meeting the fabulous Dusty Fog who could get the loyalty and devotion of a dangerous young man like this on so short an acquaintance. He did not know Dusty Fog except by reputation but the ex-Captain must be quite a man if he’d got the Ysabel Kid thinking so highly of him.