The Gila Wars Read Online Free PDF Page A

fledging Ranger organization and the governor himself.
    Spy duty had been reason enough to get Josiah out of town, while allowing him to stay in the Rangers, since he’d been cleared of any wrongdoing. Scrap was sent along, but they’d operated separately, with Josiah assuming the identity of Zeb Teter, a hide trader. Scrap pretended to be a down-on-his-luck cowboy looking for work, but he’d had no luck scrounging any worthy information. The Mexicans didn’t trust him.
    It had been a difficult span of time, and pretending to be a man other than himself didn’t suit Josiah well. He had been glad to be back with the company of men, a sergeant among the boys, and nothing more. Being a spy was something he had hoped never to do again.
    As the command settled in, Josiah took a deep breath and accepted his fate. Scrap, on the other hand, kicked the dirt—away from McNelly, of course.
    â€œIs there a problem, Elliot?” McNelly demanded, his voice suddenly as sharp as the blade of his Bowie knife that had now found its way back into the sheath on the captain’s hip.
    â€œNo, sir, it’s just that . . . Oh, never mind,” Scrap said, not looking at McNelly’s face at all, still staring at the ground.
    â€œSpit it out. This is important duty. If there’s a problem, speak of it now instead of on the trail, where you could put yourself and Wolfe in danger.”
    â€œIt’s just that I ain’t no good at bein’ a spy, Captain. That long bit of dusty time I spent in Corpus was as uncomfortable as a Sunday suit in the middle of the week. No offense, but I’d be just as good on the outcrop, hidden with my finger on the trigger, waitin’ for Cortina himself to pass by. I’m a better shooter than I am a liar.”
    â€œYou
are
a good shot, Elliot. One of the best in the company, there’s no question of that. But you and Wolfe know the lay of the land, and I’m assuming there might be a contact here or there that was made in your previous trip that could help us find out the final plans of this operation, sooner rather than later. At least confirm what Salinas has told us. I lack faith in his worried words.”
    â€œHe’s right, Scrap,” Josiah said in his best sergeant voice. “We’re better at this than we think. We can scout and spy, you’ll see; the captain’s right in sending the two of us.” Josiah made eye contact with McNelly and nodded. “We can talk the talk. Folks won’t think twice of us being Rangers, if we do this right.”
    He was not truly as confident as he wanted to be, but Josiah understood McNelly’s point in picking them. There was certainly no way Josiah was going to turn down a duty from the captain, not in front of the entire company, and with so much at stake.
    Josiah had chosen to ride with the Rangers, to stay on the trail and serve in the best way he could; there was no way he could object—unless he wanted to ride north, back to Austin, and never call himself a Ranger again. That wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon, anyway. But deep down, what Josiah wanted, more than to serve his duty loyally as a sergeant, was a good measure of redemption that would spread north and restore his reputation as an honorable man. Redemption in the eyes of Governor Richard Coke and the adjunct general, William Steele. Both men had suffered undue attention because of Josiah’s actions, and he wanted nothing more than to prove them right for standing by him, believing in him enough to allow a continuation of his service to the Rangers.
    Scrap finally nodded, noting that the correctness of the captain’s choice was obvious, though his face still showed concern, if not distaste. The same look had been firmly implanted on his every action since the boy had ridden out of Austin. It was more than worrisome for Josiah, but he said nothing. Scrap would be better watched with him on