were like their mother.
To his surprise, he didn't enjoy the visit to Ogallala very much. He hit the dry-goods store just as the owner was closing and persuaded him to reopen long enough for him to buy Lorie a mass of clothes. He bought everything from petticoats to dresses, a hat, and also a warm coat, for they were sure to strike cool weather in Montana. He even bought himself a black frock coat worthy of a preacher, and a silk string tie. The merchant soon was in no mood to close; he offered Augustus muffs and gloves and felt-lined boots and other oddities. In the end he had such a purchase that he couldn't even consider carrying it-they would have to come in tomorrow and pick it up in the wagon, though he did wrap up a few things in case Lorie wanted to wear them to Clara's. He bought her combs and brushes and a mirror-women liked to see themselves, he knew, and Lorena hadn't had the opportunity since Fort Worth.
The one hotel was easy to find, but the restaurant in it was a smoky little room with no charm and only one diner, a somber man with mutton-chop whiskers. Augustus decided he would prefer a cheerful bar, but that proved not easy to find.
He went into one that had a huge rack of elk horns over the door and a clientele consisting mostly of mule skinners who hauled freight for the Army. None of the Hat Creek outfit was there, though he had seen a couple of their horses tied outside. They had probably gone straight to the whorehouse next door, he concluded. He ordered a bottle and a glass, but the boisterous mule skinners made so much racket he couldn't enjoy his drinking. A middle- aged gambler with a thin mustache and a greasy cravat soon spotted him and came over.
'You look like a man who could tolerate a game of cards,' the gambler said. 'My name is Shaw.'
'Two-handed gambling don't interest me,' Augustus said. 'Any way, it's too rackety in here. It's hard work just getting drunk when things are this loud.'
'This ain't the only whiskey joint in town,' Mr. Shaw said. 'Maybe we could find one that's quiet enough for you.'
Just then a girl walked in, painted and powdered. Several of the mule skinners whooped at her, but she came over to where Augustus sat. She was skinny and could hardly have been more than seventeen.
'Now, Nellie, leave us be,' the gambler said. 'We were about to go have a game.'
Before the girl could answer, one of the mule skinners at the next table toppled backwards in his chair. He had gone to sleep with the chair tilted back, and he fell to the floor, to the amusement of his peers. The fall did not wake him-he sprawled on the saloon floor, dead drunk.
'Oh, go along, Shaw,' the girl said. 'There ain't but two of you. What kind of game would that be?'
'I made that point myself,' Augustus said.
A bartender came over, got the drunk man by the collar and drug him out the door.
'Wanta go next door, Mister?' Nellie asked.
The gambler, to Augustus's surprise, suddenly cuffed the girl-it was not a hard blow, but it surprised and embarrassed her.
'Now, here,' Augustus said. 'There's no excuse for that. The young lady was talking perfectly polite.'
'She ain't a lady, she's a tart, and I won't have her interfering with our pleasure,' the gambler said.
Augustus stood up and pulled out a chair for Nellie.
'Sit down, miss,' he said. Then he turned to the gambler. 'You scoot,' he said. 'I don't gamble with men who mistreat women.'
The gambler had a ferretlike expression. He ignored Augustus and glared at the girl. 'What have I told you?' he said. 'You'll get a beating you won't forget if you interfere with me again.'
The girl trembled and seemed on the verge of tears.
'I won't have a slut interrupting my play,' the gambler said.
Augustus hit the man in the chest so hard that he was knocked back onto the next table, amid three or four mule skinners. The mule skinners looked up in surprise-the gambler had the wind knocked out of him so thoroughly that he waved his arms in the air, his mouth open, afraid he would die before he could draw another breath.
Augustus paid him no more attention. The girl, after a moment, sat down, though she kept glancing nervously toward the gambler. A big mule skinner shoved him unceremoniously off the table, and he was now on his hands and knees, still trying to get his breath.
'He ain't hurt,' Augustus assured the girl. 'Would you like a sip of whiskey?'
'Yeah,' the girl said, and when the bartender brought a glass, quaffed the whiskey Augustus poured her. She couldn't keep her eyes off the gambler, though. He had managed to breathe again, and was standing by the bar, holding his chest.
'Have you had trouble with that fellow before?' Augustus asked.
'He's Rosie's husband,' Nellie said. 'Rosie is the woman I work for. They don't get along. Rosie sends me out, and he runs me off.'
She tried to recover from her fright and to look alluring, but the attempt was so pathetic that it saddened Augustus. She looked like a frightened young girl.
'Rosie ain't nice to work for,' she said. 'Do you want to go next door? I got to do something quick. If Shaw complains she'll whup me. Rosie's meaner than Shaw.'
'I'd say you need to change bosses,' Augustus said. As soon as he put more whiskey in her glass, the girl quaffed it.
'There ain't but one other madam, and she's just as bad,' Nellie said. 'You sure you won't come next door? I got to find a customer.'
'I guess you better bribe that gambler, if that's the situation,' Augustus said. 'Give him five and Rosie five and keep the rest for yourself.' He handed her twenty dollars.
The girl looked surprised, but took the money and quaffed another whiskey. Then she went up to the bar and had the bartender change the money for her. Soon she was talking to Shaw as if nothing had happened. Depressed, Gus bought a bottle to take with him and left town.
The moon was full and the prairie shadowy. Pea Eye was attempting to sing to the cattle, but his voice was nothing to compare to the Irishman's.
To his surprise, Augustus saw that Lorena was sitting outside the tent. Usually she stayed inside. When he dismounted, he bent to touch her and found that her cheek was wet-she had been sitting there crying.
'Why, Lorie, what's the matter?' he asked.
'I'm afraid of her,' she said simply. Her voice sounded thick with discouragement. 'I'm afraid she'll take you.'
Augustus didn't try to reason with her. What she felt was past reason. He had caused it by talking too freely about the woman he had once loved. He unsaddled and sat down beside her on the grass.
'I thought you went to her,' she said. 'I didn't believe you went to town.'
'Ain't the moon beautiful?' he said. 'These plains seem like fine country under a full moon.'
Lorena didn't look up. She wasn't interested in the moon. She only wanted it to be settled about the woman. If Gus was going to leave, she wanted to know it, although she couldn't imagine a life if that happened.
'Did you even like to sing?' he asked, trying to get her to talk about something else.
She didn't answer.
'I think it must be a fine gift, singing,' he said. 'If I could sing like the Irishman, I would just ride around singing all day. I might get a job in a barroom, like Lippy used to have.'
Lorena didn't want to talk to him. She hated the way she felt. Better if something happens and kills us both, she thought. At least I wouldn't have to be alone.
85.
NEWT, THE RAINEY BOYS and Pea Eye got to go into town the next afternoon. The fact that the first group drug back in ones and twos, looking horrible, in no way discouraged them. Jasper Fant had vomited all over his horse on the ride out, too beaten to dismount or even to lean over.
'You are a sorry sight,' Po Campo said sternly, when Jasper rode in. 'I told you it would be that way. Now all your money is gone and all you feel is pain.'
