It would have been rough on Lorie, such traveling. He at once shot him in the back of the head, and didn't stop to turn him over. He acted like he never knowed a one of us. If you get to choose one of my horses, choose that little sorrel with the star on his forehead, Clara said.
He rode with a rifle held lightly across his saddle. They heard horses coming. The sun flashed on his knife, and the cowhands watched in puzzlement. Once that was done, he could go off with the pistol and join his dead.
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