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.

11

"Magnifico!"

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 Blood," he
assented.

"It is past all hope then to offer for him?" Oliveri was smiling, but his
eyes held a greedy glint Drew had seen before. Shiloh was apt to produce
that reaction in any horseman.

"He is not mine to sell, _Coronel_. He belongs to _Senor_ Kirby who stands
there with him."

"So?" Oliveri's open astonishment irritated Drew. Maybe he did have on
rough work clothes and look the part of a range drifter. But then when the
_Coronel_ had arrived here last night, _he_ had not been too neat either.

"A fine horse, _senor_." Oliveri came on in, now including Drew in his
gaze.

"I think so, _Coronel_," Drew returned shortly. He gave a last brush to
flank and smoothed the saddle blanket.

"From a distance you have brought him, _senor_?" Oliveri walked about the
stud as Drew went to fetch his saddle.

"From Kentucky." Was he unduly suspicious or was there a challenge in the
Mexican officer's voice--a faint suggestion that the antecedents of both
horse and owner were in question?

"Kentucky ..." Oliveri stumbled in his repetition of the word. "I have
heard of Kentucky horses."

"Most people have." Drew tightened the cinch. Then his pride in Shiloh
banished some of his stiffness. "He is of the line of Eclipse." Maybe that
would not mean much to a Mexican, though. The breeding of eastern American
horses probably did not register south of the border.

"_Senor_--such a one--he is not for sale?"

"No." Drew knew that sounded curt, but Oliveri ruffled him. He added