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In the captain’s absence, Corporal James Riley Connolly was in charge of Company D, the Texas Ranger company in Amarillo, and he took the job seriously. However, he also wasn’t overbearing. He didn’t believe in busy work, and he didn’t believe in assigning it. He required the men to attend a meeting every morning at 9 a.m. and every evening a half-hour or so before sundown. Otherwise, their time was their own.
All of the Rangers in Company D—even William J. Pinchot, the newest, who was sworn in only a couple of weeks earlier—had already earned every penny of any pay they would ever receive in countless engagements with the enemy, whether that was Comanches, comancheros, or bandits of one stripe or another. Bill Pinchot had been in only one scrape so far, when the Comanche Four Crows had led a raid on the town. But it was rumored his quick thinking and quicker gun had saved the captain’s life.
The Ranger headquarters in Amarillo was one large room. To either side of the door was a large, two-tiered coat rack. Both were empty, often as not. In the late spring, summer, and fall, nobody needed to wear a coat, and in the winter and early spring, they seldom took them off.
The east side of the room was the captain’s area. It set behind a short wooden fence with a gate in it. Anyone who came into the captain’s area to visit with him passed through the little gate, though pretty much any adult and many children could easily step over it. Behind it was the captain’s desk, two guest chairs, and a gun rack on the wall that held Winchester carbines and a few Henrys.
Most of the Ranger business got done at the west end of the room. There, a long table ran south to north and was surrounded by up to eighteen wooden chairs. Above the table on the west wall hung a massive map of Texas. Routinely, either the captain or Corporal Connolly or Corporal Edwards stood between the table and the map to point out where certain Rangers would be going and why.
On the day Captain Wilson and Wes rode back into Amarillo, most of the day the Rangers had kept busy. They were in and out. Corporal Connolly spent most of the day in the headquarters in case Mr. Pencilman brought in a telegram.
Corporal Edwards and Jack Stilson took Pinchot and Slate Lawson out to the firing range and put them through their paces on the mounted course. On their way back to town, they did some tracking practice. Otis “Mac” McFadden spent much of the day sleeping or playing cards with Manuel Ortega, the owner of the Amarillo Inn. He was still miffed that the captain and Crowley had taken Ranger Mendoza with them instead of him.
But the end of the day was fast approaching and everyone was back from their various pursuits. At the long table, Corporal Connolly sat in the chair to the west of the captain’s chair, which occupied the north end of the table. Corporal Edwards was in his usual chair at the south end on the west side. He could see the whole room from there. The other Rangers who were present had filed in too over a period of several minutes. They all took chairs on the east side of the table, facing the map. It was just more convenient that way since they were more often receiving instruction that providing it.
Corporal Connolly glanced along the table. “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming in. I’ll make it short, then see you all at 9 tomorrow morning.” He grinned as he gestured with his right hand toward the map of Texas.
But it looked different somehow. Some of the men frowned, and a couple leaned forward a little in an effort to see it better.
Connolly continued. “Since our company seems to be independently annexing a strip along the eastern edge of New Mexico Territory to the State of Texas—”
Several of the men chuckled.
“I thought I’d bring in another map and add it to our old one. We don’t do much with the Gulf of Mexico anyway, and we probably won’t until sharks start robbing stages or something.”
The men chuckled again.
“So down there you’ll see a different map. The scale is a little smaller at 1 to 10,000 instead of our old map, which is more like 1 to 10—”
They laughed again.
“But then, this is Texas so what do you expect?” His grin broadened. “But seriously, I thought ya’ll might like a look at where Captain Wilson and Rangers Crowley and Mendoza are and what they’re up to.”
Blake Stanton said, “No good, is my guess,” then laughed.
The others joined in.
Corporal Connolly stood and pointed at the map with a narrow wooden pointer the captain most often used. “As you can see, this is Portales. Mostly a farming area, but apparently a hotbed of comanchero activity. I think that’s where our guys were going first. By my reckoning, they probably hit Portales a couple of days ago.”
He moved the pointer up. “Next you’ll see Riley Springs and Kiker, and finally, Logan Bluffs. The first two are smaller outposts. From those, they raid across the border in Texas. But the raids are usually so small even we don’t notice. And there isn’t a lot of local law on the Texas side down there.”
He moved the pointer again. “That last one, Logan Bluffs, that’s where Messina is, and that’s where our guys will finish up. The way I figure it, depending on what the bad guys do, our Rangers should clear Logan Bluffs no more than two or three days from now. Then it’s only a two-day ride back here. So we can probably expect them back either next—”
The door opened.
Corporals Connolly and Edwards looked up, and everyone else craned their necks around.
It was Carmen Morales, dressed as usual in jeans and boots and, today, a vibrant red blouse with ruffles down the front. A light scent of perfume came into the room with her.
Corporal Connolly smiled broadly. “Señora Morales? What can we do to help you?”
“Carmen, por favor.” She held up one trim hand. “And I’m so sorry to interrupt. I could come back if—”
Corporal Edwards stood. “No no, that’s all right. What can we do for you?”
“Oh. Well, already all of you have done so much. I am in your debt. But I only wondered, have you heard anything from the capitán or from the Rangers Wes Crowley or Chris Mendoza?”
Corporal Connolly said, “That’s what we were actually just talking about. I was just telling the men, I don’t expect them back for probably five or six more days.”
“Oh. All right.” She hesitated, then raised one hand again. “Well, gracias. I mean, thank you.”
Corporal Connolly said, “Miss Morales, you can stay if—”
But then the door closed behind her and she was gone.
Connolly and Edwards only looked at each other for a moment. Then Edwards sat down again and Connolly tapped the pointer against the map. But for a moment he only looked at the men, three of whom were still looking at the door through which señora Morales had disappeared.
Connolly chuckled nervously. “Well, on that note, we’ll adjourn. If any of you want to know anymore about Company D’s recent sojourn into the New Mexico Territory, frankly your guess is as good as mine. See you in the morning at 9. Dismissed.”
With that, everyone got up and filed out.