e?" He made that into a
question and looked to Topham for the answer.

"Could be," the gambler admitted.

"Only you're not sure?" Drew persisted.

"Could be you were handy and they had some kind of a hint to start a
ruckus just to show there ain't any proper law here. Could be that they
knew you ride for Hunt and that made you just the game they wanted."

"Helms's kinda dumb to play any cute game," Nye protested. "An' th' sarge,
he's always been a good guy, I don't see him bitin' happy on any such
backhand orders."

"Not orders, no. Captain Bayliss is still too army to give any such
orders. Helms's always been a troublemaker; he wouldn't need much more
than a suggestion or two of the right sort. Helms, Stevens, Danny Birke,
and that kid Mitchell. You're right so far, Nye." Topham grinned. "Like as
not, I'm imaginin' things--a greenhorn huntin' Apaches behind every bush.
None of that crew has the brains to see anything beyond the tip of his
nose. No, I guess we can take it that you were handy and they had too much
red-eye on empty stomachs. Only, I mean it, Kirby, you walk soft and get
back to the Range as quick as you can."

"That suits me," Drew agreed.

"Come on over an' let Doc take a look at that face of yours," Nye ordered.
"You look like you came up behind a mule an' the critter did a mite of
dancin' backwards! You come 'long, too," he extended the invitation to
include Anse.

His face patched up after a fashion, Drew lay full length on the hay in
his old place over Shadow's stall back at Kells' stable. Anse sat
crosslegged beside him, the bruise now a black shadow on his jaw.

"Somethin' 'bout this show's bad, plain as a black saddle on a white hoss.
Nobody could be fannin' a six-gun for you personal, Drew, 'less you had a
run-in before with one of them Blue Bellies." The Texan paused and Drew
shook his head, wincing at the pain from his numerous cuts and bruises.

Anse went on. "Some hombres are always on th' peck once they get likkered
up, but them troopers weren't that deep. Looks to me now, thinkin' it
over, they was out to make sod fly. Could be as they had trouble with some
other riders an' we was handy an' looked peaceable enough to take easy.
But I dunno. You know, a fella who's scouted an' hunted Injuns an' popped
bush cattle, to say nothin' of toppin' wild ones what can look like a nice
quiet little pony one minute an' have a belly full of bedsprings an' a sky
touchin' back th' next--a fe