James shouted, “Let go of that pig!” and struck a long trot in an effort to head the man off. He could hear the sound of horses’ hoofs. He heard a man’s excited voice, though he could not make out the words. He could see that the man had no intention of turning the pig loose. James dropped to one knee, brought the heavy rifle to his shoulder, and tried to aim without being able to see the front sight clearly. The rifle belched fire and kicked back hard against his shoulder. A man shouted in surprise. The pig squealed, kicked free, and went running desperately back toward the pen from which it had come. While James reloaded the rifle, handicapped by the darkness and the momentary blinding of the flash, he heard horses running. He could see the outlines of two horsemen, riding away as hard as they could go. He saw no need to waste powder and ball on a second shot that would almost certainly miss. Besides, the pig had gotten loose.

Andrew shouted from the dog-run. “James! What’s the matter? What you shootin’ at?”

James turned and started back toward the cabin, though he took time to go by his blankets and put on his trousers. He did not intend for Petra to see him in his underwear; it would be an embarrassment to them both. He heard Annie shouting at him. With Annie it wouldn’t make any difference; she was hard to embarrass.

Andrew came out to meet him. “You see some varmint out there?” he asked.

“A pig-stealin’ varmint. One that ran on two legs. Him and another one got away a-horseback.”

Andrew appeared incredulous. “A man? You sure?”

“Didn’t you hear him holler when I fired that shot? You ever see a four-legged varmint jump on a horse and run off?”

Andrew pondered. “By any chance did he just have one arm?”

“No, I’m pretty sure he had two.” James realized Andrew’s first thought was of Finis Blackwood. Stealing pigs was about the level of accomplishment expected of the Blackwoods back home. From what he had heard around here, the Texas branch wasn’t any better. “Could’ve been one of the other two, though.”

“Luke maybe. Not Isaac. He’s got his faults, but I doubt he’d stoop to pig-stealin’.”

James could see the two women standing on the dogrun. They were too far away to hear the conversation. He said. “It might not’ve been the Blackwoods at all. Remember, we seen some of them convict soldiers pass by here this mornin’.”

Andrew stiffened. “You don’t suppose you hit him, do you?”

“I sure as hell tried. I’d've killed him if I could.”

Andrew’s voice was stern. “For a pig? Damn it, James, we reckon human life a little higher than that. If it was soldiers, we could be in for a right smart of trouble.”

“A man’s got a right to protect himself from thieves.”

“Not when they’re soldiers. If one of them shows up with a bullet in him, the law is goin’ to take his side and believe whatever story he wants to tell.”