longhorns.'
July lay face down for a long time. The heaves finally diminished, but from time to time he raised his head and spat over the edge, to clear his throat. It was nearly sundown before he felt like sitting up, and then it was only to sit with his back against the building. He was high enough that he could see over the main street and the cattle pens and west to where the sun was setting, far off on the plain. It was setting behind a large herd of cattle being held a mile or two from town. There were thousands of cattle, but only a few cowboys holding them-he could see the other cowboys racing for town. The dust their running horses kicked up was turned golden by the sun. No doubt they were just off the trail and couldn't wait for a taste of Dodge-the very taste he had just vomited up. The last sunlight filtered through the settling dust behind the cowboys' horses.
July sat where he was until the afterglow was just a pale line on the western horizon. The white moon shone on the railroad ties that snaked out of town to the east. He felt too weak to stand up, and he sat listening to the sounds of laughter that came from the saloon behind him.
When he finally stood up he was indecisive. He didn't know if he should go in and thank Jennie, or just slip away and continue the search for Elmira. He had an urge to just ride on out into the dark country. He didn't feel right in a town anymore. The crowds of happy cowboys just made him feel more lonesome somehow. On the plains, with nobody in sight, he wasn't reminded so often of how cut off he felt.
He decided, though, that politeness required him to at least say goodbye to Jennie. As he stepped back in the door, a cowboy came out of her room, looking cheerful, and went clumping down the stairs. A moment later Jennie came out too. She didn't notice July standing there. To his astonishment she stopped and lifted her skirts, so that he saw her thin legs, and more. There was a smear of something on one thigh and she hastily wet her fingers with a little spit and wiped it off. Just then she noticed July, who wished he had not bothered to come through the door. He had never seen a woman do such an intimate thing and the shock was so strong he thought his stomach might float up again.
When Jennie saw him she was not very embarrassed. She giggled again and lowered her skirts. 'Well, you got a free look but I won't count it,' she said. 'I guess you didn't die.'
'No,' July said.
Jennie looked closely at him as if to make sure he was all right. She had a poor complexion, but he liked her frank brown eyes.
'What about the fun?' she said. 'You lost out this afternoon.'
'Oh,' July said, 'I'm not much fun.'
'I guess you wouldn't be, after vomiting up your stomach,' Jennie said. 'I can't wait, though, mister. Three herds came in today, and there's a line of cowboys waiting to fall in love with me.' She looked down the stairs; the noise from the saloon was loud.
'It's what I did with Ellie,' July said. Meeting her friend Jennie had made his life clearer to him, suddenly. He was as simple as the cowboys-he had fallen in love with a whore.
Jennie looked at him a moment. She had come out of her room briskly, prepared for more business, but something in July's eyes slowed her down. She had never seen eyes with so much sadness in them-to look at him made her heart drop a little.
'Ellie was tired of this business,' she said. 'It was the buffalo hunters made her decide to quit. I guess you just come along at the right time.'
'Yes,' July said.
They were silent, looking at one another, Jennie reluctant to go down into the well of noise, July not ready to go out the door and head for the livery stable.
'Don't you want to quit?' he asked.
'Why, are you going to fall in love with me too?' Jennie asked, in her frank way.
July knew he could if he wasn't careful. He was so lonely, and he didn't have much control.
'Don't you want to quit?' he asked again.
Jennie shook her head. 'I like to see the boys coming in,' she said. 'People are always coming in, here in Dodge. The cowboys are nicer than the buffalo hunters, but even the buffalo hunters was people.'
She thought a moment. 'I couldn't sit around in a house all day,' she said. 'If someone was ever to marry me I expect I'd run off, too. The time I get blue is the winter-there ain't no people coming in.'
July thought of Ellie, sitting in the cabin loft all day, dangling her legs-no people came in at all except him and Joe, and Roscoe once in a while when they caught a catfish. Hearing Jennie talk put his life with Ellie in a very different light.
'You ought to go on back home,' Jennie said. 'Even if you catch her it won't do no good.'
July feared it wouldn't, but he didn't want to go back. He just stood there. Something in his manner made Jennie suddenly impatient.
'I got to go,' she said. 'If you ever do find Ellie, tell her I still got that blue dress she gave me. If she ever wants it back she'll have to write.'
July nodded. Jennie gave him a final look, half pitying, half exasperated, and hurried on down the stairs.
July felt sad when she left. He had the feeling that an opportunity had been missed, though he didn't know what kind of opportunity. The streets were full of cowboys going from one saloon to the next. There were horses tied to every hitch rail.
He went to the livery stable and saddled his new horse. The old man who ran the stable was sitting with his back against a barrel of horseshoe nails, drinking now and then from a jug he had between his legs. July paid him, but the old man didn't stand up.
'Which outfit are you with?' the old man asked.
'I'm with myself,' July said.
'Oh,' the man said. 'A small outfit. This is a funny time of night to be starting out, ain't it?'
'I guess it is,' July said, but he started anyway.
70.
ONCE THEY GOT WEST, beyond the line of the grasshopper plague, the herd found good grass, the skies stayed clear for nearly two weeks, and the drive went the smoothest it had gone. The cattle settled down and moved north toward the Arkansas without stampedes or other incidents, except for one-a freak accident that cost Newt his favorite horse, Mouse.
Newt wasn't even riding Mouse when the accident occurred. He had traded mounts for the day with Ben Rainey. The day's work was over and Ben had ridden into the herd with Call's permission to cut out a beef for the cook. He rode up to a little brindled cow, meaning to take her yearling calf, and while he was easing the calf away from her the cow turned mean suddenly and hooked Mouse right back of the girth. She was a small cow with unusually sharp horns, and her thrust was so violent that Mouse's hindquarters were lifted off the ground. Ben Rainey was thrown, and had to scramble to keep from being hooked himself. Soupy Jones saw it happen. He loped in and soon turned the mad cow, but the damage was done. Mouse was spurting blood like a fountain from his abdomen.
'Get Deets,' Soupy said. Deets was the best horse doctor in the outfit, though Po Campo was also good. Both men came over to look at the wound and both shook their heads. Newt, on the other side of the herd, saw people waving at him, and loped over. When he saw Mouse gushing blood he felt faint, from the shock.
'I don't know what went wrong with her,' Ben Rainey said, feeling guilty. 'I wasn't doin' nothing to her. She just hooked the horse. Next thing I knew she was after me. She has them little sharp twisty horns.'
Mouse's hind legs were quivering.
'Well, you better put him down,' Call said, looking at Newt. 'He's finished.'
Newt was about to take the reins when Dish Boggett intervened. 'Oh, now, Captain,' he said quietly, 'a feller oughtn't to have to shoot his own horse when there's others around that can do it as well.' And without another word he led the bleeding horse a hundred yards away and shot him. He came back, carrying the saddle. Newt was very grateful-he knew he would have had a hard time shooting Mouse.
'I wish now we'd never traded,' Ben Rainey said. 'I never thought anything would happen.'
