"Did you ever think about California, Anse? Sounds like a place a man would like to see."
He was conscious that the Texan's horse quickened pace, only to be reined in again.
"You thinkin' about cuttin' out? Yesterday——"
"Yesterday——" Drew tried to think back to how he had felt yesterday about Topham's warning and how he himself had held the absurd belief that if Don Cazar was going to be in trouble, Drew himself wanted to be there. That was yesterday. But still he pointed his horse south—to the place where Hunt Rennie would return, bringing Johnny Shannon.
The Kentuckian fell back on the old "wait and see." He had learned long since that time took care of a lot of worries. Now he made himself grin at Anse.
"Was worryin' about wet feet before my boots were in the river again," he confessed.
"Don't let it git to be no habit," the Texan warned. "You try ridin' with th' bumps awhile, not agin them!"
"Agreed." Drew urged his horse on toward the front of the train where they wouldn't have to breathe the dust.
"... m' cousin, Anson Kirby ..." Drew made, the introduction to Bartolomé Rivas. The wagons were forted up outside the Stronghold, a second square, smaller but almost as easily defended as the adobe walls. In two or three days the train would pull out again, starting the long trip down into Sonora.[pg 113]
Rivas surveyed Anse none too amicably, his gaze going from man to horse and its gear, then back to the Texan once more.