“Miss Garza, that’s a harsh view, surely,” I said. “Why would the law be your enemy?”

She looked at me as if I were God’s own fool.

“Because I’m brown,” she said. “And that’s Texas, across the river.”

6.

Billy Bone turned into quite a chatterbox that morning in his efforts to convince Katerina Garza that his departure was just a trifling thing.

“It’s just that I’ve never been to Anton Chico and I’d like to see that part of the country,” he said, as we were standing by our horses. “Besides, I’d like to josh those dang gunfighters for a day or two and maybe win some of their money before your pa runs them clean out of the country.”

He looked at Joe and me in appeal, hoping we’d help him drum up convincing reasons for hurrying off an hour before breakfast. But Joe and I both felt sorry for Katie, who made no effort to conceal how forlorn she felt. We didn’t provide any help.

Billy himself didn’t believe what he was saying—nor do I imagine he understood why he had awakened so determined to leave. Billy Bone was just a puppet to his instincts, jerked this way and that by strings whose pull he couldn’t predict. He had to go: he just didn’t know why. Joe and I were puzzled, and Katie in tears, so he tried to make it better by talking, and, of course, he failed.

“I doubt we’ll be gone but a week or a little more,” he said awkwardly. “I’m in the mood for some fast traveling and I’ve got Joe here to lead the way.”

“I don’t care how long you’re gone,” Katie said. “A year can’t hurt no worse than a day.”

She said it in a muffled voice and turned and walked back to her hut, to cry alone. She didn’t look Billy’s way again.

Billy looked pained, as he always would if another person refused to look at life as he looked at it.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with Katie,” he said. “I guess she’s just gonna cry and carry on no matter what I say.”

Joe Lovelady did not appear to be enthusiastic about the coming journey, but he was mounted and ready.

“Are we going to New Mexico?” he asked. “Or do you prefer just to sit here and jaw?”

No one had asked me if I cared to participate in a range war, but Joe Lovelady had thoughtfully saddled my mule.

Billy tried to act as if I was the one who was delaying the start. “Well, are you coming to the fight, Sippy? Or had you rather sit here and scribble?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll come, if my mule can keep up,” I said, taking the reins from Joe.