air and pushed its nose against his elbow.
That you, bud? Rawlins whispered.
You better hope so.
Rawlins walked the horse down and stood and looked back at the house.
You ready? said John Grady.
Yeah.
They suspect anything?
Naw.
Well let’s go.
Hang on a minute. I just piled everthing on top of the horse and walked him out here.
John Grady picked up the reins and swung up into the saddle. Yonder goes a light, he said.
Damn.
You’ll be late for your own funeral.
It aint even four yet. You’re early.
Well let’s go. There goes the barn.
Rawlins was trying to get his soogan tied on behind the saddle. There’s a switch in the kitchen, he said. He aint to the barn yet. He might not even be goin out there. He might just be gettin him a glass of milk or somethin.
He might just be loadin a shotgun or somethin.
Rawlins mounted up. You ready? he said.
I been ready.
They rode out along the fenceline and across the open pastureland. The leather creaked in the morning cold. They pushed the horses into a lope. The lights fell away behind them. They rode out on the high prairie where they slowed the horses to a walk and the stars swarmed around them out of the blackness. They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on the round dais of the earth which alone was dark and no light to it and which carried their figures and bore them up into the swarming stars so that they rode not under but among them and they rode at once jaunty and circumspect, like thieves newly loosed in that dark electric, like young thieves in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold and ten thousand worlds for the choosing.
B Y NOON the day following they’d made some forty miles. Still in country they knew. Crossing the old Mark Fury ranch in the night where they’d dismounted at the crossfences for John Grady to pull the staples with a catspaw and stand on the wireswhile Rawlins led the horses through and then raise the wires back and beat the staples into the posts and put the catspaw back in his saddlebag and mount up to ride on.
How the hell do they expect a man to ride a horse in this country? said Rawlins.
They dont, said John Grady.
They rode the sun up and ate the sandwiches John Grady had brought from the house and at noon they watered the horses at an old stone stocktank and walked them down a dry creekbed among the tracks of cattle and javelina to a stand of cottonwoods. There were cattle bedded under the trees that rose at their approach and stood looking at them and then moved off.
They lay in the dry chaff under the trees with their coats rolled up under their heads and their hats over their eyes while the horses grazed in the grass along the creekbed.
What did you bring to shoot? said Rawlins.
Just Grandad’s old thumb-buster.
Can you hit anything with it?
No.
Rawlins grinned. We done it, didnt we?
Yeah.
You think they’ll be huntin us?
What for?
I dont know. Just seems too damn easy in a way.
They could hear the wind and they could hear the sound of the horses cropping.
I’ll tell you what, said Rawlins.
Tell me.
I dont give a damn.
John Grady sat up and took his tobacco from his shirtpocket and began making a cigarette. About what? he said.
He wet the cigarette and put it in his mouth and took out his matches and lit the cigarette and blew the match out with the smoke. He turned and looked at Rawlins but Rawlins was asleep.
They rode on again in the late afternoon. By sunset theycould hear trucks on a highway in the distance and in the long cool evening they rode west along a rise from which they could see the headlights on the highway going out and coming back random and periodic in their slow exchange. They came to a ranch road and followed it out to the highway where there was a gate. They sat the horses. They could see no gate on the far side of the highway. They watched the lights of the trucks along the fence both east