He rode east all morning, a bad feeling in his heart. He was the worst man she had ever known, worse even than Ermoke and the Kiowas, though they were bad enough. For he thought of it like a ride, something he might just do for a night or two when things were slow. Probably the old man had a poor memory, and if there was a letter it was for somebody else.
It had become simple and even pleasant for her. Call was relieved to be leaving. Frog Lip rode along silently, as he had the whole trip, but there was menace in his silence, and Jake was ready for lighter company--a whore, particularly. Where they had hidden he didn't know, for he was in the center of a level plain.
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