Luther Heinrich of the Texas Rangers comes into the dining room. His coat has a hole in the middle of the left shoulder, and the white of a cotton bandage, with a little fresh crimson is underneath. The lower part of the sleeve has dark blood stains. He approaches the table and touches fingers to brow. Good morning, Mr. Moore, Mr. McLaury. I'm sorry to appear in such a state. My tailor doesn't open his shop until 9:00, he deadpans, with a mirthful twinkle in his. I've come to let you know early, before you make plans for the next few days. We were successful at shooing away the dance hall maidens, and didn't have to see even one mean old crone. Lieutenant Bob's plan vas a good one. Ve concentrated fire on one rider and dropped him off of his horse. But not before they'd given Private Denton a serious shot to an arm, and the Lieutenant abad one in the chest. He seems somber, but seems to think better of letting it show and be a discouraging burden to others. I missed my day before Saint Peter's gate, only by the grace of God or the luck of the devil-- or my mare's skittishness. She was galloping and she saw something ahead-- a rattler, a patch of prickly pear, a prairie dog hole, a fresh green cow patty…. I don't know what, I was looking through iron sights and at a Comanche rider. She took a hard step a foot to the right and a slug from a Sharps rifle nicked my left arm. If it weren’t for the mare dodging something, the slug would have gone through my bad liver, or my broken heart. Again, the deadpan, with the mirthful eyes.
In any event sirs, I vanted to let you know that our Rangers detachment cannot ride tomorrow to further track the, to quote Mr. McLaury, robber gang “bustards.” We’ll get them someday, but it will take some time before the Lieutenant can ride and shoot. Maybe another Ranger company will be assigned to the job, but I doubt it. We're stretched way too tight and way too thin. And the Rangers will be thinking about those Comanches we ran into so close to Austin itself.
Gideon says, I’m sorry to say it and it ain’t yer fault, Mr. Heinrich, but that’s piss poor of the State a Texas. People pay taxes to the state, and it won’t hire enough lawmen to protect em? I seen in the paper that Burnet and Fredericksburg don’t even have stagecoach service right now. I guess if they want to mail a letter, they don’t need no stamp. Cause they got to ride it to the destination theirself. And hope and pray to the Lord they don’t git waylaid and murdered along the way. Why don’t the Army take care of them Comanches and let y’all deal with tracking down a little group a cold-blooded murderin Anglo robbers?
Heinrich smiles a little. The Army is trying its best. It has good intentions, and tries… to the best of its abilities.
The time comes to for William and Gideon to head to the courthouse for the trial.
