“Thank you, sir.”
* * *
They sat outside their tents with the campfire throwing out a circle of heat and a million stars puncturing a sky of black velvet.
Smith stretched, took a long drink from a dark bottle, and passed it over to Andrew.
“Cape Smoke,” he said. “It will either kill you or give you new life.”
Andrew choked back a mouthful of the fiery spirits. “Thank you,” he said, coughing.
“You know, Bairdie,” Smith said, retrieving the brandy, “we’re wasting our time here.”
“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.
“I mean, we’re risking our lives fighting a bunch of raggedy-arsed savages with no profit, but our pay, and that’s little enough once they take off stoppages. Where’s the benefit?”
“We’re making the Frontier safer for farmers and settlers,” Andrew gave the stock answer. “And
