"You think you're pretty tough, don't you, Tex?"

The voice came from the darkness directly behind him. There was no use turning around because his eyes would be insensitive from staring into the fire of the hobo jungle.

"Tough enough, I guess."

"Well, now's your chance to prove it." A knife landed in the dirt at his feet.

"I've got no quarrel with you, fellow. Who are you?"

"None of your damned business. I've been watching you. Pick up that fucking knife and let's get with it!"

Lafe didn't move.

"God damn it, I said move!" With the words, footsteps and a sharp pain in his back. "I'll push it all the way in if you don't move!"

A crazy. Lafe had seen them occasionally among the wanderers. Men who had broken completely. They were easy to spot, their eyes were empty.

He tried to judge how the man was standing, what his precise position was behind him. He had to get him to move again. "is it fair to make a man fight somebody he hasn't even seen?"

Silence.

"Look, If you want a fair fight, you've got to come around in front of me. If you want to do me in, go ahead. I can't stop you. You've got me. But If you want a fair fight you've got to come around here." Lafe pointed slowly to the other side of the fire.