The Gila Wars by Larry D. Sweazy

look to be his luck.
    â€œWhat of the two Mexicans?” Josiah asked.
    â€œI killed ’em both, through and through.”
    â€œToo bad. They might’ve been able to tell us something about Cortina.” He took another deep drink of water, then struggled to sit up. He really had to pee.
    â€œIt was them or you,” Scrap said.
    Josiah nodded to the bowl that sat on a table across the room. “I’ve got to relieve myself.”
    Scrap fetched the bowl, handed it to Josiah, then turned away.
    Only a thin blanket covered him, and until that moment, Josiah hadn’t realized that he was naked as the day he was born underneath it. He quickly did his business, glad his functions still worked. Scrap took the pan, disappeared out the door, then quickly returned without it.
    â€œI think you’ll be all right here, Wolfe.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? What do you think you’re planning?”
    â€œThere was a third man. They all were tied together with Cortina and this big sale to Cuba somehow. I’m going after him. He can’t be far,” Scrap said.
    Josiah started to protest, felt the responsibility of his rank and general concern rising to the forefront of his mind, but he allowed it to slip back, stop. “You think you’re up to that?”
    â€œWhat, alone?”
    Josiah nodded.
    Scrap shrugged. “Don’t look like I got much choice. It’s either that, or stay here with you for a day or so, or go back to the camp to tell McNelly what’s happened. Neither way solves our duty. Besides, I got skills on the trail. I know how to track a man as good as you.”
    â€œI didn’t say you didn’t.”
    â€œThen what are you sayin’?”
    â€œI’d just as soon go with you as stay here,” Josiah said. “The barkeep shot me if I remember right.”
    Scrap shook his head no. “The cantina owner’s daughter. She was trying to save you, but she ain’t much of a shot. They was outside butcherin’ a goat when she heard the ruckus and came in to investigate. You’ll be safe here. These folks been kind to you and ain’t no supporters of Cortina.”
    â€œThe girl I saw before I blacked out?”
    â€œYup. This is their house. She feels awful, especially now they know we’re Rangers.”
    â€œYou trust a pair of Mexicans enough to tell them we’re Rangers? We were supposed to use our spy names.”
    â€œThat went out the window once’t you got shot. Besides, you know I ain’t no good at bein’ anything other than myself.”
    â€œAnd you’re comfortable enough to just leave me here?”
    â€œFunny, ain’t it?”
    â€œYou are a curious boy, Scrap Elliot,” Josiah said. “A real curious boy.”
    â€œWell, I suppose you could think worse of me, but I learned a few things on my own when I was in Corpus a while back. I may not like some Mexicans, but I had to learn there’s some good ones, or I woulda been out on a limb most of the time. These two are decent sorts. They gave me information about where to find the third man.”
    â€œAnd you believed them?”
    â€œThey believed me when I told ’em I’d come back and kill them both if it was a lie. I ain’t got no restrictions to killin’ a woman if she’s a liar. Besides, you’re not that down and out. Your gun’s under the mattress, both your arms work, and your legs, too. You can take care of yourself while I track down the third man.”
    The candle flickered, swaying on an unseen draft, causing the light to become brighter for just a second. Josiah could see Scrap clearly. He was dressed and ready to ride, his gun belt stocked with bullets, his duster sitting on the chair waiting, and his Colt ready in his holster. Scrap’s face, so often boyish and wide-eyed, looked hard and chiseled in the dark, his eyes set on a distant horizon that bore no pleasure,