w Rennie now, the squad, his round of duties, the
army--these were home, not a brick house set in the midst of green
fields and smooth paddocks. The house was empty of what he had found
elsewhere--acceptance of Drew Rennie as a person in his own right,
friendship, an occupation which answered the restlessness which had
ridden him into rebellion. He stood staring at nothing as he thought
about all that.

Kirby startled him out of his self-absorption. "Butt your saddle, amigo!
We're hittin' the trail again."

As he swung up on the Yankee horse and took Hannibal's lead halter, Drew
asked a question:

"Ever seem to you, Anse, like the army's home? Like it's always been,
and you've always been a part of it?"

Kirby shot him a quick glance. "Guess we all kinda feel that sometimes.
Gits so you can hardly remember how it was 'fore you joined up. Me, I
sometimes wonder if I jus' dreamed Texas outta m' head. Only I keep
remindin' myself that someday I can go back an' see if it's jus' the way
I dreamed it. Kinda nice to think 'bout that."

They cut away from the main line of march, ranging out and ahead.
Stragglers from the army must be moved forward, directed. And they came
upon one of those, a tall man, limping on feet covered with strips of
filthy rag. But he still had his musket, and on its bayonet was stuck a
goodly portion of ham. He had been sitting on a tree trunk, but at the
approach of the scouts he moved to meet them.

"Howdy, fellas," he spoke in a hoarse voice, and wiped a running nose on
his sleeve. "What command you in?"

"Forrest's Cavalry ... Scouts--"

"Forrest's!" He took another eager step forward. "Now theah's a command!
Ain't bin for you boys, th' blue bellies woulda gulped us right up!
Nairy a one of us'd got out of Tennessee."

"You ain't rightly out yet, amigo," Kirby pointed out. "Kinda lost,
ain't you?"

The man shrugged and grinned wryly. "Feet ain't too good. But I'm makin'
it, fast as I can."

"Can you fork a mule?" Drew asked. "This one is for ridin'. We'll take
you to one of the wagons--"

"Now that's right kind of you boys, right kind." The man hobbled up to
Hannibal as if he feared they might withdraw their offer. "Say, you
hungry? Git us wheah we can light a spell, an' I'll divide my rations
with you." He waved the musket with its impaled ham.

"Maybe we'll do jus' that," Kirby promised.

Drew dismounted to give the straggler a leg up on Hannibal before they
headed on toward th