Renda stepped out into the sunlight and raised his arm. “Over here!” He glanced back at Lizann. “They haven’t missed yet.”

Lizann was watching Salvaje, seeing him coming toward them now. “Animal tracks man,” she said. Her gaze moved to Bowen then.

He was hatless and from hair to shoes he was covered with a heavy film of dust. She was sure that he had fallen more than once and had been dragged by the horse. The knees were torn from his pants and his shirt was almost in shreds. Dried blood caked the left side of his jaw and his shoulder was bloodstained where he had wiped his face on it. She could picture him doing this, stumbling along in the dust from the horses with his hands tied behind his back.

“Who is he?” Lizann asked, mildly curious.

Renda was watching Salvaje dismount. “Who?”

“The prisoner?”

“Oh…Bowen.”

“He looks as if he’s already been taught a lesson,” Lizann said.

“Only part of one,” Renda answered. He yelled to Salvaje then, “Bring him over here!”

A Mimbre pulled loose the honda and lifted the reata loop over Bowen’s head, but did not untie his hands. He took Bowen by the arm then and led him to the ramada.

Renda waited. His thumbs were hooked in his belt and he stared at Bowen, studying his face and waiting for Bowen’s eyes to drop or look away. But Bowen continued to return his stare and finally Renda said, “Was it worth it?”

Bowen didn’t answer. Then, he tried to turn his head and bring up his shoulder, seeing Renda suddenly shift his weight, but he was not quick enough and Renda’s fist slashed backhanded across his face.

Renda’s arm dropped slowly. “I asked you a question.”

Bowen nodded then. “It was worth it.”

“Why?”

“I learned something.”

“You’re going to learn more before we’re through.”

Bowen said nothing.

“Like your friend Pryde,” Renda said. “He learned his before he got off the road.”