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riderless horses came in with the patrol, and I know enough about Indians to know they don’t desert on foot in this country. My guess is you buried what was left of those scouts after Ghost Shirt got through with them, then took off in pursuit. Where’s he holed up?”
    Harms made a thing out of picking all the lint off his cigar.
    â€œWe sent them on ahead to scout out the territory.” He spoke slowly. “When they stopped leaving sign we tracked them to the James River. We found them hanging upside down from a cottonwood over a smoldering fire. Their skulls had exploded from the heat.”
    â€œGhost Shirt. Where is he?”
    For a moment it looked as if he might answer. Then his dazed expression cleared and the stubborn glint returned to his eyes. “That’s army business. So far all the casualties in this quadrant have been sustained by the military. I won’t take the responsibility for any civilian deaths here.”
    â€œColonel Broderick—” Hudspeth began.
    â€œColonel Broderick was a good soldier, but he was weak. He worried more about holding onto his command than keeping the peace in his sector. As a result he lost his own life and those of a dozen of his men while on routine patrol. There will be no such blunders beneath my command.As long as you three are here you are welcome, within limits, to the facilities of the post, but you will not be allowed to leave until the situation is in hand.” He started to rise.
    â€œWhat was a full colonel doing leading a routine patrol?” I pressed. “That’s a job for a captain or a lieutenant.”
    He looked at me again. A faint smile played over his lips but fell short of his eyes. “You served?”
    â€œI was with Schoepf at Mill Springs and with Rosecrans at Murfreesboro. A ball smashed my leg there and I sat out the rest of my enlistment in splints.”
    â€œI thought I’d noticed a slight limp. You must have been very young.”
    â€œI was nineteen when I signed up.”
    â€œWhy did you leave?”
    â€œI don’t like officers.”
    That ended the friendly coversation. He stalked toward the door and clapped on his hat. “Sergeant Burdett will be in to show you to your quarters.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer my question, Major,” I said.
    He ignored me and tugged open the door. I went on. “Colonel Broderick was tracking Ghost Shirt, wasn’t he? He got too close and the Indians attacked. Which means you have a fair idea where their stronghold is.”
    He turned back. Beyond his shoulder, purple twilight had settled over the compound, silhouetting the sentries on the wall in liquid black. “What makes you think it’s a stronghold?”
    â€œYou took thirty men and came back with twenty-eight. If you’d met Ghost Shirt in the open you’d have killed at least a few of his braves and lost more than two scouts. The only explanation is they’re holed up someplace where you can’t dig them out. All I’m asking is where.”
    â€œSuppose I told you. What can you do that we can’t, one underarmed deputy and two old has-beens?”
    The marshal sprang from his chair and lunged toward the major, who clawed at his holster. I stuck out a leg, trippingHudspeth. He threw out his arms and struck the floor hard on his face. The china mug fell from the desk, clunked against the planks, and rolled around in a lazy circle, coming to rest against the lawman’s left boot.
    Pere Jac remained rooted in the middle of the floor. He hadn’t moved. I had already pegged him as a born survivor.
    â€œYou’re forgetting that one of these old has-beens almost turned one of your men into fishbait a little while ago,” I reminded the major.
    He put away the Colt and secured the strap that held it in place. “It’s a moot point, Deputy,” he said. “You’re confined to the post for the duration.”
    â€œWe