“John, I ain't saying. I'm saying it could have been. That's all. Could have been something else. Could have been the gold just as well. I don't know. And, you know, it don't make a hell of a lot of difference right now. They're after us, and it would seem likely they would hang us if they can. I'm focused on not getting hanged. That's all that matters at the moment. I don't care why they want to hang me, I'm just trying to make sure they don't succeed.”

“You think much about dying?”

“I'm against it for myself. For others, I'm pretty much neutral on it.”

“I really don't want to die.”

“I know that. None of us do, I don't think. Except crazy ones. Seems to me we all get exactly the same amount of time for living—not enough. You don't want to die, that just means you ain't crazy or stupid.”

“Tom says I'm stupid.”

“In Tom's book, everyone is stupid except him and, maybe, the Old Man.”

“He is smart, ain't he?”

“According to him. But look here. He's at exactly the same place we are. All his thinking ain't saved him from the rope yet. Ain't made him rich, either, though I don't have a good handle on such conceptions.”

“I ain't smart. I know that. Tom's the smart one. I rely on him for that.”

“Some would say that knowing you ain't smart makes you pretty damned smart.”

“I wouldn't know about that.”

“Me, neither. Probably.”

“You think they're going to hang us, then?”

“They're going to try. We got to make it as difficult as we can.”

“Did you shoot one of them?”

“John, it don't matter. It purely don't matter.”

“I guess I'll sleep.”

“See, you ain't stupid at all.”

Tom woke John at midday, the sun near its peak, though far south. “You all right, brother?” John nodded his head. “I think we ought to let Sisson sleep as long as he can. He needs it more than us. In a couple of hours, we can wake him, eat some, and go. You OK with that?”

John nodded.

“All right, then. If there ain't difficulties, we'll make the Chiricahuas tonight, and then we all can sleep tomorrow. You doing all right? You ain't going to go back to sleep, are you?”

John nodded.

“All right, then. You fall asleep, maybe none of us ever wakes up.”

John took his blanket off, though he was still cold. He would need it later. He reasoned that if he kept it off for a while, he would be more likely to feel warm when he put it back on later.

He looked out in all directions and saw nothing. But that gave no comfort. He had a bad feeling. Maybe because he really was stupid. He sometimes felt things that Tom didn't but failed to see what Tom saw. He was starting to get that rifle-sight feeling again, and he couldn't shake it.