He turned old Malaria and they rode on toward Austin, though the memory of Clara was as fresh in his mind as if it were her, not Woodrow Call, who rode beside him. Call had to tie his animals over a hundred yards away--he wanted to get started as soon as the hanging was over. Howdy, Pea said. Through the late afternoon and far into the night the cattle stumbled over the plain, the weaker cattle falling farther and farther behind.
He was back with his old _compañeros_, at least--those boys who had haunted his dreams. Going with July was the most exciting thing he had ever done by far. Roscoe was hoping to find a trail, but there were weeds all around the cabin, wet with dew, and all he did was get his pants legs wet. But he was tired, so tired he didn't even feel the sadness for very long.
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