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“Before you go sloppin’ up the mescal juice,” Tobin said, “I want to understand my horse is cared for. You rubbed him good?”

Lefton was raising the mescal glass, ignoring Tobin, and suddenly Tobin’s quirt came up and lashed down on Lefton’s arm and the mescal glass went slamming skidding over the bar.

“I asked you a question,” Tobin said.

For a shaded second Lefton’s face came alive, but as fast as it came the anger faded from his eyes and he looked down at his wrist, holding it tightly to his stomach. “No,” he answered then. “I didn’t rub down your horse.”

“Do it now,” Tobin said.

Brady moved toward them. “Wait a minute! You don’t order my help around!”

“He wants to do it,” Tobin answered. “Don’t you?”

Lefton’s eyes raised. “It’s all right, Mr. Brady.”

“I’ll tip him something,” Tobin grinned. He looked at Lefton again. “One hand’s as good as two for rubbing down a horse, ain’t it?”

Lefton hesitated. Before he could answer Tobin’s quirt came down cracking against the bar edge and Lefton went back half a step.

“You’re not much for answering questions, are you?”

Lefton’s eyes raised momentarily. “I’ll tend to your horse.”

Tobin grinned. “I want to ask you something else.” He waited to make Lefton speak.

“All right,” Lefton said.

“Where did you leave your arm?”

Again Lefton hesitated and you had the urge to poke him to make him hurry up and answer. “On Rock Creek,” he said then. “East of Cemetery Ridge.”

“What was your outfit?”

“Seventh Michigan.”

Tobin’s face brightened. “Damn, I thought you looked like a blue- belly! One of Wade Hampton’s boys cut you good, didn’t he?” He looked around at the rest of us and said, “A brother of mine was with Wade, all the way to Yellow Tavern.”

Lefton didn’t say a word and Tobin studied him. “What rank did you hold?”

“Lieutenant.”

“From lieutenant of cavalry to rubbin’ down horses,” Tobin said. He stuck out his quirt as Lefton started to walk past him. “I didn’t say you could go!” The quirt moved across Lefton’s chest and the tip of it poked at the empty right sleeve.

“Above the elbow,” Tobin said. “Were you right-handed or left?”

“Right.”

“Now that’d be a hardship,” Tobin said. “Teaching the left what the right used to know.” The quirt end kept slapping gently at the empty sleeve as he spoke. “But the left’s good enough for sloppin’ mescal juice, huh?”

Lefton did not answer.

“You hear me?”

“Yes…it’s good enough.”

“I thought stable boys were supposed to say yes sir.”

“That’s enough!” Brady said. His big face was red and had a tight look about the mouth. “You leave him alone now!”

Tobin looked at Brady. “You ought to learn your stable boy proper respect.”

“This man isn’t a stable boy!”

“Then how come he wants to rub down my horse?”

This was carrying it too far. I knew Tobin could lick me eight ways from breakfast with one hand, but now I could feel the anger up in my throat and I had to say something.

“Tobin…you stop that kind of talk and act like a human being for once in your life!”

He took the time to look my way. “Uncle, are you telling me what to do?”

“I can’t talk any plainer!”

He grinned…didn’t get mad…just grinned and said, “Uncle, you know better than that. You don’t tell me what to do. Not you or any man here.” He turned to Lefton again. “I’m the only one doing any telling, ain’t that right?”

He poked Lefton with the quirt and Lefton nodded, though he was looking at the floor.

“Let me hear you say it.”

Lefton nodded again. “Yes… that’s right.”

Tobin waited. “Yes… what?”

Then it was like seeing this Lefton give up the last shred of pride he owned, and you had to turn your head because you knew he was going to say it, and you didn’t want to be looking at him because you weren’t sure if you’d feel sorry for him anymore.

We heard it all right, the hollow sounding, “Yes sir—”

And after it, Tobin saying, “Now you find your left-handed curry- comb and go on out and rub my horse.”

Chapter Three

ALL THE WAY back to our headquarters, later on, with the two-hundredodd head