Josie said Evan and her brother James had come across Pete and Scully driving off some of their horses. In the gunfight that followed, Evan had taken a bullet in his arm. Another bullet had creased James’s leg. “Didn’t hurt him much. It was just enough to make him good and mad. He’d have followed Pete and Scully all the way to hell if he hadn’t had to take care of Evan. Lieutenant Ames came along with his patrol and took over the chase.”

“Knowin’ James, I expect he’s still mad.”

“Mad enough that we’d better keep him away from Pete Dawkins.”

“Pete has spilled it for good now, killin’ a soldier. Old Colonel Dawkins is liable to take this mighty hard.”

Bitterness crept into Josie’s voice. “He’s got it comin’ to him for the grief he’s caused this family. But the word is that he disowned Pete. Drove him off of the place with a black-snake whip.”

“You’ve got to feel a little sorry for the colonel, all by himself now on that big farm.”

“The word we’re hearin’ is that it won’t be his much longer. The Federals are layin’ taxes on him that he can’t pay. They’ve got it in for him because he preached so strong for the Confederacy and rode roughshod over everybody who didn’t agree with him.”

“Sounds like some people are still fightin’ the war.”

“In some ways, I’m afraid the war’s barely started. Texas is in for a lot of grief.”

Andy’s limp was so severe that Rusty told him to sit down. The boy slumped on a wagon tongue, his eyes dull and weary.

We ought to’ve waited another week before we started, Rusty thought.

He turned the horses loose and fed them. Beneath the shed he found Pete and Scully sitting on the bare ground, their arms behind their backs and tied to two sturdy-looking posts.

Pete complained, “This ain’t no way to treat a white man.”

Rusty grunted. “It’s no way to treat any man. But then, you’re not much of one.”

Sergeant Bailey’s eyes crackled with hatred. “Pity his mama didn’t take him out the day he was born and drown him like a sack of kittens. Private Wilkes was a good soldier. Didn’t deserve to get shot in the back. Lieutenant didn’t deserve a hole in his shoulder, neither. And all for a no-account like this.”

It struck Rusty that Pete had better keep still, or he might be in more danger from Sergeant Bailey than from any of the Monahans.

James Monahan strode into the shed, his face clouded for a storm as he sought out Pete Dawkins. He towered over the bound prisoner. “Pete, I ought to cut your throat right where you’re sittin’.”

Pete’s eyes went wide in fear.