Webb said, “I think he’s still got it in his head that we may kill him.” He addressed the boy directly. “Nobody’s out to hurt you, lad. We mean you well.”

Tanner remarked, “You could put him in a circus and advertise him as the wild boy. He’d draw a crowd.”

Rusty felt compassion. “All this attention is keepin’ him agitated. We need to get him away from the crowd. Then maybe he’ll settle down.”

The next morning, still using the borrowed wagon, they set out for Rusty’s farm. The women had made a sympathetic fuss over the Pickard boy, which seemed to distress him. The children were mainly inquisitive, some trying to talk to him, others simply chattering about him. All seemed only to add to his confusion. The boy appeared relieved to be getting away from so many strange people.

Rusty drove the wagon. Len Tanner rode close beside him on a bay horse. It was a long-legged animal, befitting its rider. Rusty said, “I didn’t expect to see you back, especially so soon.”

Tanner shook his head. “It don’t take long to catch up on kinfolks. After about a week everybody seemed to be sayin’ the same things over and over again. Even Mama and Papa. I’d figured I could help them through their old age, but they got too much family helpin’ them as it is. And then there’s them Yankee occupation soldiers. They got this far up the river yet?”

“Ain’t seen them. I guess they’ve gone to the more settled places first.” Rusty had heard that Union troops were scattering across the state, imposing Federal authority through martial law.

Tanner spat. “They’ll get here soon enough, then you’ll wish they’d never left Ohio or Massachusetts or whatever foreign country they come from. Insolent, overbearin’… you’d think they never won a war before.”

“I notice that bay horse you’re ridin’ has got a U.S. brand on him. Bought him from the government, did you?”

“Not exactly. Borried him, you might say. I needed to leave in a considerable hurry, and I seen him tied to a hitchin’ post. Saddled and all, like he had Len Tanner’s name on him.”

Rusty put mock accusation into his voice. “Stealin’ horses. And you used to be a ranger.”

“I don’t lay any claim to him. If the government wants him it’s welcome to come and get him. I won’t give them any trouble.”

“Sounds like you’re already in trouble.”

“Just a little difference of opinion with a Yankee sergeant, is all. I was sittin’ in the grocery quiet and peaceful when he come in and wanted to see my parole pass. I told him I didn’t have one because I never had been a Confederate soldier. Told him I’d been a ranger. He couldn’t see no difference. Said if I couldn’t show him a pass he was fixin’ to drag me off to the Yankee compound.

“Well, after a polite discussion he ended up on his back, all covered in flour. Barrel got turned over durin’ the commotion. He said he’d see to it that I saw the front end of a firin’ squad. Acted plumb serious about it. This horse looked faster than the plug I’d been ridin’, so I taken the borry of it. Thought it was a good time to go visit some of my old friends.”