As the prisoners climbed into the car the smell of cow dung and urine struck them full in the face. The last ones in sat near the open door. Tim’s head ached and he was stiff in every joint, but as he leaned against the boards of the cattle car with Kautz on his right and Red on his left he smiled to himself. Friends, that’s what a man needs, he thought. It’s going it alone that makes it tough. Kautz turned to Tim. “I’ve studied maps,” he whispered, slapping a slight bulge in the lower part of his blouse. “I thought about capture before we attacked the fort.” Tim glanced at Kautz and for a moment he couldn’t believe his ears. Kautz had never shown the slightest doubt that they would take the fort. “On this train,” he heard Kautz say, “we will probably head for Columbia. If so, we jump south of the city. We might branch west toward central Georgia. If we do that, I’m for jumping as soon as we see our chance. In either case, our objective would be Eastern Tennessee. If we should head south along the coast, we jump near Beaufort.” Kautz looked around the car and leaned close to Tim. “The giving of the signal will depend on the position of the guards, the degree of darkness and other things.” His whisper became a hiss. “We will be taking great risks, in any case. I will go first, then Kelly, then you.” The sergeant looked into the car. His skin was mottled purple and pink and white, scarred so badly that his face could express no emotion. When he talked the glistening skin crinkled dryly around his mouth. His voice came soft and deep. “We have to put three more men in here,” he said with something that sounded like regret, “but I’ll keep the door open if you behave yourselves. In this country,” he said, “escape is foolish. Don’t forget that.” He clamped his jaw shut and moved along to inspect the other cars. Three of the derelicts crawled into the car and collapsed like half-empty sacks of meal. While Kautz had been talking Red had sagged and fallen asleep. “I’ve had a little sleep,” Tim said to Kautz, “you sleep now and I’ll stand watch for an hour or so.” “Fine,” Kautz said. He rested his beard on his chest and went to sleep. Tim smiled to himself. He even sleeps efficiently, he thought. As he smiled his eye was caught by the gaze of one of the derelicts. The man stared into Tim’s face with vacant, luminous eyes. Tim took three of Greene’s oranges out of the pocket of his blouse and held them toward the man. “You’re hungry,” he said. “One of these for each of you might help.” The man’s emaciated hands shot out, grasped two of the oranges and clutched them to his body. He reached for the other with something in his pitiful face that made Tim draw the third orange back. “One to each,” he said.