sed hospitals behind the gray lines. Hale waved away
Drew's thanks, adding only a last warning: "Keep your bags dry if you
contemplate a river crossing! I would like to make sure that those drugs
do reach the right hands intact."

"Rennie!" Hart hailed him from the door. "There's a boy here with a
mule; he says it's for you."

Pryor put down his glass. "It's Hannibal. I think you will find him
acceptable, suh. An even-tempered animal for the most part, and the
surest-footed one I have ever ridden."

"Then you do _ride_ him?" Boyd spoke for the first time.

"Naturally he has been ridden--by me. I would not offer him otherwise,
suh!" Pryor's flash of indignation was quick. "Hannibal's dam was Dido,
a fine trotting mare. He's an excellent mount."

The mule stood in the street, ears slightly forward, eyeing King warily.
He was a big animal, groomed until his gray coat shone under the sun,
wearing a well rubbed and oiled saddle and trappings. As Drew approached
he lowered his head, sniffing inquiringly at the scout.

"Your new master, Hannibal," Pryor addressed the animal with the gravity
of one making a formal introduction. "You are about to be mustered into
the cavalry."

Hannibal appeared to consider this and then shook his big head up and
down in a vigorous nod. Boyd laughed and Kirby offered vocal
encouragement.

"Mount up an' see if you have to go smoothin' out any humps."

"If you're goin' to ride that critter, git on!" Hart called. His tone
expressed urgency as if he had learned something in town which should
send them out of Cadiz in a hurry.

Drew's previous experience with mules had not been as a rider. He had
heard plenty about their sure-footedness, their ability to keep going as
pack animals and wagon teams when horses gave out, their intelligence,
as well as that stubbornness which lay on the darker side of the scales.
He advanced on Hannibal now a little distrustfully, settling into the
saddle on the animal's back with the care of one expecting some
unpleasant reaction. But Hannibal merely swung his head about as if to
make sure by sight, as well as pressure of weight on his back, that his
rider was safely aloft.

Relaxing, Drew saluted Pryor. "My thanks to you, suh."

"Think nothing of it, young man. Luck to you--all of you."

"That we can use, suh," Kirby returned. "Adios...."

Hart's impatience was so patent that Drew had only hasty thanks for Hale
before the trooper had them on their way