The sergeant said, “No one will leave this camp tonight.”

To James, that seemed a needless statement. With a dozen soldiers camped beside them, they weren’t going to sneak two wagons, eight mules, the extra horses and two milk cows out of here.

The American knelt and gingerly touched James’s chin. “I didn’t go to hurt you, friend.”

James angrily pushed the man’s hand away. “Sure didn’t feel like you meant to do me any good. And don’t call me friend.”

“I meant you nothin’ but good. Another minute and they’d've gutted you like a catfish.”

“But we’ve got a right—”

“East of the Sabine you’ve got rights. Over here, Díaz holds all the cards, and he’s got a hard feelin’ towards Americans. If you don’t want to lose your health awful sudden, you’d better be playin’ the game by his rules. Come on now, let me help you up off of the ground.”

James curtly shrugged him away. “I can get up by myself.” He did, but he swayed a little. His jaw ached.

The man said defensively, “All right, so you’ve got a sore chin. But you’re still breathin’. Ain’t my fault you got caught.”

“Seems to me like if they wasn’t escortin’ you back to Louisiana they wouldn’t've come across us.”

“You was goin’ to Nacogdoches, wasn’t you?”

“To register like my brother said, before we set off down to Austin’s colony.”

“Then it wouldn’t've made any difference. They’d've turned you back when you got to Nacogdoches.”

“Nobody in Louisiana told us there was a new law.”

“They probably ain’t heard yet. Seems like the government in Mexico City taken a bad case of the itch about so many Americans settlin’ in Texas. After all, it ain’t been long since the Mexicans took their country away from Spain. Now they’re afraid the Americans might take Texas away from Mexico the same way. So they’ve passed a law to stop any more from comin’ in. A letter from your brother don’t mean a damned thing to Díaz.”

James’s voice was bitter. “It meant several hundred miles in a wagon to us.”

“There’s good land to be had in Louisiana.”

“We didn’t come for Louisiana, we come for Texas. And one way or another, we’ll get to where we was headed.”

“I wouldn’t let Díaz hear you say so.”

James’s stomach roiled in anger and frustration, and he still felt unsteady on his feet. He seated himself on a wagon tongue and watched resentfully as the Mexican soldiers unsaddled their horses. Hell of a thing this was, to travel so far and then be escorted back to Louisiana like criminals.

Annie had been studying the American with more curiosity than James thought was proper. She said, “I don’t believe we heard your name.”

“Díaz has got a name for me, but it’s in Spanish, and you don’t want to hear it. My mother named me Daniel—Daniel Shipman. Over home they just call me Sly.”

“Sly?” Annie seemed intrigued. “How’d you come by a name like that?”