Finis Blackwood looked at the rope wrapped around James’s torso. “Who the hell tied you up, and how’d you get away?” Then his eyes narrowed as recognition slowly came to him. “By God, you look to me like a Lewis. You ain’t Michael or Andrew, but you got the look of them about you.”

“The look of them, all right,” Luke Blackwood chimed in. James remembered that folks said Luke was strong of body but weak in the head. He sensed that the best thing would be for him to get on Walker and ride. “Much obliged for the drink.” He edged toward the horse.

Finis stepped closer. “You got blood on you. By God, you been shot, that’s what it is.” He brought the rifle to bear on James. “Luke, I know now what it was them Mexican soldiers was tryin’ to tell us when they came by here a while ago, jabberin’ at us in Spanish. They was lookin’ for somebody, and this here is him.”

James put a foot in the stirrup, though the effort brought fresh pain. Finis moved quickly for a fat man, jabbing the muzzle of the rifle against the rope that bound James’s ribs. Finis said, “You ain’t a-goin’ no place. You step back away from that horse without you want another bullet in you.”

The man’s muddy eyes told James that he meant it. James weighed his chance of knocking the rifle aside and knew it was poor. He was a Lewis. Finis Blackwood would kill him without hesitation and be grateful for the opportunity. He eased his foot back to the ground. Knowing it would do no good, he said, “I never done you any harm.”

“You’re one of them” Finis answered. He motioned with the rifle. “You come on over here to the house. Luke, you take his horse and turn him into the lot. And saddle mine. I’m goin’ to see if I can find them soldiers.”

Luke blinked, not quite comprehending. “What you want the soldiers for?”

“They’d think a right smart better of us was we to catch this boy for them, wouldn’t they? Might even give us more land, you never can tell.”

Luke said, “We ain’t used up all we already got.”

“Land is money. Ain’t never been no rich Blackwoods. We just might git to be the first ones.”

Luke stared hopefully at James. “You reckon they’ll hang him?”

“I don’t know. I ain’t rightly sure what they want him for.”

“I ain’t ever seen a hangin’. I’d like to.”

“Maybe they’ll give us an invite. Go do what I tell you.” Finis poked James again, on the side that hurt. “Now, you git along into that cabin.”

It was a double cabin, like so many in the Austin colony, modeled after those back where most of the settlers had come from. A heavy woman stood with the boy in the open dog-run. James could not tell whether she was pregnant or just fat. She wore an old homespun dress that fitted her like a sack, reaching down almost to her calloused feet. She stared with the same uncomprehending expression as Luke’s. The boy appeared to be five or six years old. He had all the markings of the Blackwood boys James had known back in Tennessee, though his eyes looked brighter than most. There must be some outcross blood in him, James thought.