iend Anse hired as corral hands
at Rennie's Range, but he was hardly prepared for the suspicion and danger
which stood between him and his father. As hotheaded as his father, Drew
was ready to move on to California--until the day all proof of his Rennie
name was stolen from him, and his unwarranted arrest for horse-thieving
brought on the accusations of the one man whose trust he needed.

Andre Norton's _Ride Proud, Rebel!_ dramatically portrayed the last year
of the Confederacy, when brave men like Drew Rennie met defeat with honor.
In this sequel, Drew's struggle to establish his identity and begin life
anew in a raw, unsettled land reflects the courage of thousands of
rootless men set adrift by the Civil War.

BY ANDRE NORTON

The Defiant Agents
Ride Proud, Rebel!
Storm Over Warlock
Galactic Derelict
The Time Traders
Star Born
Yankee Privateer
The Stars Are Ours!

EDITED BY ANDRE NORTON

Space Pioneers
Space Service

1

Even the coming of an autumn dusk could not subdue the color of this land.
Shadows here were not gray or black; they were violet and purple. The
crumbling adobe walls were laced by strings of crimson peppers, vivid in
the torch and lantern light. It had been this way for days, red and
yellow, violet--colors he had hardly been aware existed back in the cool
green, silver, gray-brown of Kentucky.

So this was Tubacca! The rider shifted his weight in the saddle and gazed
about him with watchful interest. Back in '59 this had been a flourishing
town, well on its way to prominence in the Southwest. The mines in the
hills behind producing wealth, the fact that it was a watering place on
two cross-country routes--the one from Tucson down into Sonora of Old
Mexico, the other into California--had all fed its growth.

Then the war.... The withdrawal of the army, the invasion of Sibley's
Confederate forces which had reached this far in the persons of Howard's
Arizona Rangers--and most of all the raiding, vicious, deadly, and
continual, by Apaches and outlaws--had blasted Tubacca. Now, in the fall of
1866, it was a third of what it had been, with a ragged fringe of
dilapidated adobes crumbling back into the soil. Only this heart core was
still alive in the dusk.

Smell, a myriad of smells, some to tickle a flat stomach, others to
wrinkle the nose. Under the rider the big stud moved, tossed his head,
drawing the young