He heard a voice from somewhere behind him, trying to shout and whisper at the same time. “James Lewis! James Lewis! Where the hell are you at?”

James had just finished scooping dirt over his own vomit so he did not have to smell it. He replied, “I’m here. Watch your head.”

He knew the voice. In a moment Sly Shipman dropped down on his belly beside James. A bullet kicked dirt into his face. Rubbing it from his eyes, he asked anxiously, “You all right?”

“I’m all right. What’re you doin’ here? I thought you said it was a damnfool idea, comin’ to this place.”

“I ain’t changed my mind about that. It just goes to show that there’s two damnfools in our partnership.” He touched James’s wounded arm, and James flinched. “Looks to me like they’ve already proven it to you.”

“Lucky shot,” James said, not wanting to admit error.

“Been a bunch of lucky shots from what I’ve seen. This outfit’s pretty bad shot up.”

“So are those Mexicans. Every time one of them sticks his head up, almost, he gets his brains blown away. Everybody said they wouldn’t fight. Why the hell don’t they give up?”

“Because they’ve got guts. And because they’ve got the same contempt for Americans as a lot of Americans have for them. They’re fightin’ for their honor.”

“Damn little good honor’ll do you when you’re dead.”

“That’s a funny thing for you to say. You’re the one always spoilin’ for a fight. Well sir, you’ve found one. Enjoy it.”

“What did you do with our mules?”

“Left them with a farmer. He said he’d take care of them for us.”

“What if we both get killed?”

“Then I reckon he’s got him a good set of mules.” A bullet whined just past Shipman’s head, taking off a little of his hat brim. “Move over, James, and give me room. For people who weren’t goin’ to put up a fight, they’re doin’ a right smart of a job.”

James knew the cover wasn’t enough to guarantee safety, but it was the best he had. He inched to one side, giving Shipman a share of the hole he had gouged into the sand. “I still don’t see what you came here for,” he said. “You were dead set against me comin’.”

“I tried to go on without you, but them mules wouldn’t let me. They look on you as kinfolk. You do have a lot in common. They kept tellin’ me I’d better come see about you, that you’d probably fool around and let the Mexicans kill you if I didn’t lend you a hand.”

“I don’t see you doin’ any shootin’.”

“I ain’t mad at anybody—except maybe you.”

James felt a warm glow inside. Shipman would not admit it in a hundred years, but he had come to rescue James if he could, and protect him if he could not. “Thanks, Sly.”

“Thanks for nothin’. When we get out of here I’m goin’ to whip you within an inch of your life.”