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In Amarillo, the day after Wes and Pinchot left, Mac took Slate Lawson back to the mounted range and ran him through his paces. At Chris Mendoza’s request, he and Stanton went along too. Both the newbies had run through the mounted range three times before 10 a.m. Afterward, Stanton and Mac traded places with them and ran through it themselves.
Mendoza was amazed. “How’d you guys get through it so fast?”
Stanton was still mounted, reloading his revolver. He grinned. “You’ll get quicker after you’ve been shot at a few times.”
Mac laughed. “Man, that ain’t no lie.” He looked at Mendoza. “After a while it’s almost like you and the horse are all one piece. You won’t even know if you or the horse is doin’ the shootin’.”
Stanton chuckled. “And you won’t care as long as you hit what you’re shootin’ at.”
Lawson said, “What’s it like to kill a man?”
Stanton looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “It ain’t good.”
Mac said, “Thing is, it ain’t about killin’ the other guy. It’s about makin’ him stop shootin’ at you. If you was to miss but you blew his gun out of his hand or somethin’ and it’s layin’ over there in pieces somewhere, you’d go on after the next target.”
Lawson frowned. “Really?”
Stanton said, “Really. ‘Cause the next target’s still shootin’ at you. Or fixin’ to.”
Lawson said, “So then why do we shoot at center mass?”
Stanton sighed. “‘Cause that’s the part that’s hardest to get out of the way of a bullet. You point at a shoulder or a leg or a head and the guy moves a few inches the wrong way, you’ll miss clean.”
Mac said, “You point at the solar plexus and he moves a few inches, you’ll still hit somethin’.”
Stanton said, “And chances are he’ll stop shootin’ at you.”
Mac said, “At least long enough for you to fire again.”
Stanton said, “The point is, don’t take chances or you’ll end up dead. Always point at the biggest part. That’s the torso, from the waist up.”
Mac said, “‘Cause you can be sure that’s what the other guy’s aimin’ at.” Then he looked at Stanton. “You ready to head back?”
Stanton, his revolver loaded, stuck it in his holster and nodded. “Late dinner or early supper. Either one’s good with me.”
Mac frowned. “You reload your carbine?”
Stanton wagged one hand. “Later.”
Mac looked at Mendoza and Lawson. “You both reloaded? Completely?”
Both said, “Yes sir.”
Mendoza said, “A beer’d go down good too.”
Mac waited. Stanton was the senior Ranger by a week or so. But when Stanton didn’t respond to Mendoza, Mac said, “It’ll be mid-afternoon when we get back. We’ll swing by the HQ first. See if the captain and the others want to join us.” He looked at Stanton. “You think?”
Stanton nodded. “Sure. If the captain wanted a beer, we can have one too. Let’s go.”
*
But when they got back to Amarillo a little over an hour later, Ramón Sanchez came running out of the livery stable. He was waving his arms across his body. “Indians! Comanches came!”
Mac yelled, “When? Where?”
Sanchez stopped next to Mac’s horse. He looked at Stanton, then back at Mac. “This morning, about an hour after you rode out. From the east, I think.” He frowned. “How did they know?”
Stanton said, “Know what?”
“Crowley and the new man are gone. You four are gone. Then the Indians came.” He paused. “The captain says you are to stay in the office, all of you, and wait. He and one corporal went east. The other corporal and Stilson went northeast. They think they know where to find them. But you are to stay here. All of you.”
Mac said, “Got it.” He reined his horse around.
Stanton said, “Where you goin’?”
Mac stopped and looked back. “We should keep the horses with us until we know what’s what, right?”
“Oh. Right.” And he, Lawson and Mendez reined their horses around and followed Mac.
Mac dismounted to one side of the Amarillo Inn and whipped the reins around the hitching rail.
When Stanton stopped beside him, a question in his eyes, Mac looked up. “No reason to advertise where we are.”
“Right,” Stanton said again, and dismounted.
Lawson and Mendez did the same, and they all walked over to the headquarters.
*
The captain and Corporal Connolly came walking into the station shortly before 9 p.m.
The captain shook his head, then took off his hat and hung it on the peg above his desk. He glanced across the room. Mac, Stanton and the two new men were seated at the long table. “They didn’t come back through here, did they? The Comanches?”
Connolly walked over to the long table, pushed a chair back with his foot, and sat. Quietly, he muttered, “Damn it.”
Stanton looked at the captain. “No sir, they didn’t come back that we know of. We’ve been back since around 2 p.m.”
The captain nodded. “You men have a good showing at the range?”
“Yes sir.” Stanton paused. “And sorry we were gone so long. Mac and I decided to run through a couple of times too.” He shrugged. “Since we were already out there.”
Mac looked at Corporal Connolly. “So I guess they got away, huh? What did they do? We didn’t see any buildings burnin’.”
To Stanton, the captain said, “That’s fine. There was nothin’ you could have done back here anyway.”
Connolly said, “Apparently there was nothin’ any of us could do.” Then he nodded at Mac. Tired and disgusted, he said, “Yeah, they got away.” He paused. “Again. They didn’t set any fires. They just raided a barn on the east edge of town for grain, then rode out, pretty as you please.”
The door opened and Corporal Edwards and Jack Stilson came in.
Edwards looked at the captain. “We never saw hide nor hair of ‘em, Captain.”
The captain only shook his head.
Connolly said, “They shouldn’t be able to get away with that. Not right in broad daylight.”
The captain said, “No, they shouldn’t. Maybe if we set up a patrol in town or—”
Edwards said, “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but when? We already have our loop patrols. And this is the first time the bastards hit Amarillo since Captain Flowers was killed. Besides, patrolling the town is really the sheriff’s job. Him and his deputies.”
The captain only nodded. “You’re right.”
Connolly said, “Four Crows’ spy is obviously still in top form.”
Mac said, “I was thinkin’ that. When we rode in, Ramón Sanchez mentioned it too. He wondered how they knew to attack just now, when Wes and Pinchot are gone and right after the four of us headed out to the range.”
Connolly nodded at him, then looked at the captain. “Sir, that attack we led north of Watson that time. I say we do more of that.”
“But the last loop patrols were—”
“They were successful, sir, but mostly because a bunch of ancient Indians decided to commit suicide by facing off with us up near the wagon bridge. But we’ve come close to real success only twice: once when we figured out Iron Bear’s pattern and ambushed his bunch up at Boquillas Draw and then that little trip north of Watson. I think we can get away with that another time or two if we’re careful.”
The captain frowned. “Okay. How?”
Connolly leaned forward in his chair. “Just like we did that last time. We look for patterns and figure as close as we can where and when he’ll pop up next. Or maybe even figure out the two most likely locations. Then we keep up the appearance of the loop patrols, but have some of us veer off and meet, then go after him.” He paused and looked around the table.
“There are eight of us in town right now. We could send out three loop patrols like before. One would be me and one of the new guys, say Lawson. Another could be Corporal Edwards and Mendoza. And the third could be Stilson, Stanton and Mac.
“But the next night—so the first night on the trail—we could meet at two set locations. Say me, Lawson and Mac at one place and Edwards, Stilson, Stanton and Mendoza at another. Then one team would ride to one place where we think Four Crows might be and the other would ride to the other.” He paused. “Or two teams could continue on the loop patrol and one could veer off and go after Four Crows. The point is, we need to hunt this guy, Captain. Oh, and we ought’a let the sheriff know when we’re gonna be gone so he can set up patrols here in town.”
The captain nodded. “Let me think on it. In the meantime, you all go get some sleep. I’ll see you back here in the morning.”
When they all filed out, the captain was still sitting at his desk.