“We could do that.”

“We don't got a lot of rope left,” Sisson said.

Tom started to object, then remembered cutting the rope off John's ankles and wrists and realized now that was a bad decision. “We could walk closer together.”

Sisson nodded. “We could. More dangerous, though. One of us slips up there in the snow, all of us are going to go.”

“Let's not slip, then.”

Sisson nodded and tied a length of rope around his belt and tied the other end to John's belt. Tom did the same. “Watch him he don't fall,” Sisson said, “and take us all down.”

“I got him,” Tom said. “He's my brother.”

By halfway up the canyon wall, they had a good look at the floor of the canyon and the small, iced stream. With the leaves off the oaks, they could see fifty yards or so to both the east and west. If they had to, they could hold off a fair number of pursuers on the floor of the canyon. Walking was difficult and would stay so, but the climb was the right thing to do.

They reached a small, flat ridge by early afternoon where the walking was easier. They were still below the snow line but close enough that they could see it in the distance. A thin, light rain, barely a drizzle, had begun to fall and to freeze on the rocks, which made passage slower and more treacherous. That made footing a bit less secure. They were still at the beginning of the passage over the mountains. They had a long way to go.

They were anxious to get deeper into the mountains, farther from the posses and farther from the places the posses would likely stop. John was getting worse. The pain in Tom's eye was nearly unbearable, and he tried to imagine how John felt. John's lapses into delirium and unconsciousness must be a blessing, Tom thought.

They camped for the night under a small outcropping that shielded them from the rain and then the snow. They slept huddled together with a cover of pine branches and brush. John slept but moaned in his dreams and woke with starts that woke both Tom and Sisson. When John lapsed back into deep sleep, Tom and Sisson dozed.

Their shoes and boots were nearly gone now. They used the last of the canvas they had taken from the Johnson mine to wrap the thin, worn soles. It would keep some of the snow and wet out, but it wouldn't last long.

All night the cold came at them in waves. They could feel the cold rolling down the walls of the canyon and engulfing them, sending them, shivering, tighter and tighter into each other. When their bodies had adjusted to the new drop in temperature, another wave of cold would roll down. Both Tom and Sisson held on to John, both for security and warmth. He was burning with fever.