Page 42 of Sure as Shooting

“Well. Yes. You both obviously love each other, and I would never want to step in the middle of what you two have together.”

Whit flashed her a devilish grin. “I would never let you.”

Both were galvanized to the spot when a heap of yelling came from their camp ten minutes away. From the sounds of it, men appeared to be running every which way, some voices becoming louder as they ran toward Belle and Whit.

Whit tossed the funnel into the bucket and stood, grabbing Belle by the hand. Without a word, they dashed off down the snowy incline, dodging boulders and ducking under tree limbs.

Whit panted, “How much should I bet? This has something to do with the captives.”

Indeed, Belle had tried to question Bud about his version of the “acorn basket” incident, but he had remained fast that it was clearly an ambush set in motion by the very captives Whit had been leading—Tenaya’s sons. For the sons to be killed would jeopardize the battalion’s attempts to subdue Tenaya’s entire village, for they would just pick up and run farther into the mountains, perhaps all the way to the Monos, by the saline lake where her train had been wiped out.

When closer to the camp, Captains Din and Boling came tearing up a hillock toward them. Din demanded, “Did any Indians pass you by?”

“No!” Whit declared. “What happened?”

Boling glared something fierce at Belle. “Your brother is what happened!”

And the two captains continued their chase.

“Oh, dear Lord!” Belle cried. “What has Bud done now?”

It became evident when they got into camp and pushed their way through the tight circle of milling boys.