but besides anger there was fear in my heart.

“I will go at once and bring her home,” I said. As I spoke, I happened to glance toward the fort and the shipping in the river beyond. Something seemed wrong with the prospect. I looked again, and saw what hated and familiar object was missing.

“Where is the Santa Teresa?” I demanded, the fear at my heart tugging harder.

“She dropped downstream this morning. I passed her as I came up from Archer’s Hope, awhile ago. She’s anchored in midstream off the big spring. Why did she go?”

We looked each other in the eyes, and each read the thought that neither cared to put into words.

“You can take the brown mare,”