rom Cousin Merry
yet? Maybe Hansford didn't make it through with my letter. He hasn't
come back yet.... But--"

"Think I'd lie to you about that?" Boyd's eyes held some of the old
blaze as he turned the hat around in his hands. "And what I told you is
the truth. The surgeon said it won't hurt me any to ride with the boys
when you pull out. General Buford's ordered to Selma and Dr. Cowan's
sister lives there. He has a letter from her sayin' I can rest up at her
house if I need to. But I won't! I haven't coughed once today, that's
the honest truth, Drew. And when you go, the Yankees are goin' to move
in here. I don't want to go to a Yankee prison, like Anse--"

Drew's shoulders hunched in an involuntary tightening of muscles as he
stared straight out of the window at nothing. Boyd had insisted from the
first that the Texan must be a prisoner. Drew schooled himself into the
old shell, the shell of trying not to let himself care.

"General Buford said I was to ride in one of the headquarters wagons. He
needs an extra driver. That's doin' something useful, not just sittin'
around listenin' to a lot of bad news!" The boy's tone was almost raw in
protest.

And some of Boyd's argument made sense. After the command moved out he
might be picked up by a roving Yankee patrol, while Selma was still so
far behind the Confederate lines that it was safe, especially with
Forrest moving between it and Wilson.

"Mind you, take things easy! Start coughin' again, and you'll have to
stay behind!" Drew warned.

"Drew, are things really so bad for us?"

The scout came away from the window. "Maybe the General can hold off
Wilson ... this time. But it can't last. Look at things straight, Boyd.
We're short on horses; more'n half the men are dismounted. And more of
them desert every day. Men are afraid they'll be sent into the Carolinas
to fight Sherman, and they don't want to be so far from home. The women
write or get messages through about how hard things are at home. A man
can march with an empty belly for himself and somehow stick it out, but
when he hears about his children starvin' he's apt to forget all the
rest. We're whittled 'way down, and there's no way under Heaven of
gettin' what we need."

"I heard some of the boys talkin' about drawin' back to Texas."

"Sure, we've all heard that big wishin', but that's all it is, just
wishin'. The Yankees wouldn't let up even if they crowded us clear back
until we're knee-deep in the Ri