I despise all you fine-haired sons of bitches, Blue Duck said. She wants you to bring the coffin, she said to July, watching him. AS THE HERD wound across the brown prairies toward the Platte, whoring became the only thing the men could talk about. He was so drunk he couldn't walk straight.
He decided to find some braided horsehair reins when he got to Austin--the thin leather rein he was using could easily have snapped. uldn't get it back on? A fine sight he would make, if he even saw camp again, riding in with one boot in his hand. Why ten years? he asked, puzzled. To make matters worse, Dish Boggett was standoffish and made no attempt to make friends with him.
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