them, his saddlebags
slung over one shoulder, under his arm the haversack for rations which
normally hung from any forager's saddle horn. He dropped them by the
fire and held two gleaming objects out to Drew.

"Anse's spurs! How did you get them?"

"Sold m' horse to the sutler at the Yankee camp. Then bought 'em. That
trooper gave 'em to me for just what he paid: five dollars hard money.
Said as how he could understand why you wanted to have them--"

"But your horse!"

Boyd grinned. "Looky here, Drew, more'n half of this heah Reb army is
footin' it home. I guess I can cross two little states without it
finishin' me off--leastwise I reckon anyone who has toughened it out
with General Forrest can do that much."

Drew turned the spurs around in hands which were a little shaky. "We got
Croaker, and we'll take turns ridin'. No, two states ain't too far for a
couple of troopers, specially if they have them a good stout mule into
the bargain!"

* * * * *

A hot copper sun turned late Kentucky May into August weeks ahead of
season. Thunder muttered sullenly beyond the horizon. And a breeze
picked up road dust and grit, plastering it to Croaker's sweating hide,
their own unwashed skin.

"Better ... ride...." Licking dust from his lips, Drew watched the
weaving figure on the other side of the mule with dull concern. They
were steadying themselves by a tight grip on the stirrups, and Croaker
was supporting and towing them, rather than their steering him.

Boyd's head lifted. "Ride yourself!" He got a ghost of his old defiance
into that, though his voice was hardly more than a harsh croak of
whisper. "I ain't givin' in now!"

He leased his stirrup hold, staggering forward a step or two, and would
have gone face-down on the turnpike if Drew had not made a big effort to
reach him. But the other's weight bore him along, and they both sprawled
on the road. Croaker came to a halt, his head hanging until he could
have nuzzled Drew's shoulder.

They had made a brave start from Alabama, keeping up with the company
they joined until they were close to the Kentucky-Tennessee border. Then
a blistered heel had forced Drew into the rider's role for two days, and
they had fallen behind. The rations they had drawn had been stretched as
far as they would go. Even though there were people along the way
willing to feed a hungry soldier, there were too many hungry soldiers.
The farther north they traveled