Mouse swung his head to get his wet forelock out of his eyes, and kept on plodding through the mud. What if old Sam got well and tracked them to Fort Worth and found her? He offered her two dollars in case she had expenses, but Janey just shook her head. Dozens of grasshoppers still clung to his shirt and to Mouse's mane, and he could hear them stirring in the grass, eating what little of it was left. In the country, if he got mad and shot something, it would probably be a snake, not a rude bartender.
As he rode along, trailing the twenty-five horses, he decided the best thing for him would be to leave the west. He hadn't brought an extra pair of boots, mainly because he didn't own one, and was forced to waste most of the afternoon trying to clean the mud off the ones he had. I wisht they hadn't killed that dog, he said. She turned and he stopped and blushed, fearful that he had ruined everything by approaching at the wrong time.
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