"I'm told he's now trying quite eagerly for Soldado's scalp."

"He should, it's worth five hundred pesos," Flynn said. "Are you suggesting we go to him for help?"

Deneen smiled faintly. "If you were making a business of scalping Apaches, would you think kindly of someone appearing to take them away?"

"I was going to remind you of the same thing."

"I'll take the responsibility of my own reminding."

Flynn shrugged his shoulders, saying nothing.

"I will mention again," Deneen said politely, "that you are not obligated in any way to take this assignment."

"What about Bowers?"

"That is not your concern."

"I mean nothing personal, but there are other officers with considerably more experience who might have been chosen." He glanced at Bowers as he said it and saw the young officer stiffen, as if anxious to reply.

Deneen said, "Do you imply that you won't go if Lieutenant Bowers does?"

"Of course not. I just don't see why you'd send an inexperienced man on a job like this."

"And how do you gain this experience if you never take the field?"

"Tracking Soldado in his own element isn't exactly just taking the field."

"We're not going to debate it. You either go or you don't go."

"I'd like to speak to you alone."

"I haven't the time. Are you going?"

Flynn hesitated, then nodded his head.

"You will leave in the morning. The quartermaster sergeant will issue your ammunition if you use a Springfield; otherwise you supply your own."

"I'm aware of all that."

"Then there's no reason to detain you," Deneen said, and turned abruptly to Bowers. "Lieutenant, step into the office."

The sun had dropped below the horizon line of the Catalinas and they rode back to Contention in the silent dusk, Flynn thinking, reminding himself that he was in it now, and that was that.