In the night, sweating heavily, he awoke to a familiar step. W. F. Call stepped into the room and set a lantern on the bureau.
'Well, slow but sure,' Augustus said, feeling relieved.
'Not too dern slow,' Call said. 'We just found Pea Eye yesterday.'
He turned back the covers and looked at Augustus's leg. Dr. Mobley was also in the room. Call stood looking at the black leg a minute. Its meaning was clear enough.
'I did plead with him, Captain,' Dr. Mobley said. 'I told him it should come off. I regret now that I didn't take it when we took the other.'
'You should have,' Call said bluntly. 'I would have known to do that, and I ain't a medical man.'
'Don't berate the man, Woodrow,' Augustus said. 'If I had waked up with no legs, I would have shot the first man I saw, and Dr. Joseph C. Mobley was the first man I saw.'
'Leaving you a gun was another mistake,' Call said. 'But I guess he didn't know you as well as I do.'
He looked at the leg again, and at the doctor. 'We could try it now.' he said. 'He's always been strong. He might still live.'
Augustus immediately cocked the pistol. 'You don't boss me, Woodrow,' he said. 'I'm the one man you don't boss. You also don't boss most of the women, but that don't concern us now.'
'I wouldn't think you'd shoot me for trying to save your life,' Call said quietly. Augustus looked sweaty and unsteady, but the range was short.
'Not to kill,' Augustus said. 'But I'll promise to disable you if you don't let me be about this leg.'
'I never took you for a suicide, Gus,' Call said. 'Men have gotten by without legs. Lots of 'em lost legs in the war. You don't like to do nothing but sit on the porch and drink whiskey anyway. It don't take legs to do that.'
'No, I also like to walk around to the springhouse once in a while, to see if my jug's cooled proper,' Augustus said. 'Or I might want to kick a pig if one aggravates me.'
Call saw that it was pointless unless he wanted to risk a fight. Gus had not uncocked the pistol either. Call looked at the doctor to see what he thought.
'I wouldn't bother him now,' the doctor said. 'It's much too late. I suppose I'm to blame for not outwitting him. He was brought to me unconscious, or I might have figured out what a testy character he is.'
Augustus smiled. 'Would you bring Captain Call a glass, and some of that venison?' he said. 'I imagine he's hungry.'
Call wasn't ready to give up, although he felt it was probably hopeless. 'You got those two women, back in Nebraska,' he pointed out. 'Those women would race to take care of you.'
'Clara's got one invalid already, and she's bored with him.' Augustus said. 'Lorie would look after me but it would be a sorry life for her.'
'Not as sorry as the one you rescued her from,' Call reminded him.
'You don't get the point, Woodrow,' Augustus said. 'I've walked the earth in my pride all these years. If that's lost, then let the rest be lost with it. There's certain things my vanity won't abide.'
'That's all it is, too,' Call said bitterly. 'Your goddamn vanity.' He had expected to find Gus wounded, but not to find him dying. The sight affected him so much that he felt weak, of a sudden. When the doctor left the room, he sat down in a chair and took off his hat. He looked at Gus for a long time, trying to think of some argument he might use, but Gus was Gus, and he knew no argument would be of any use. None ever had been. He could either fight him and take off the leg if he won, or else sit and watch him die. The doctor seemed convinced he would die now in any case, though doctors could be wrong in such matters.
He tried to gird himself for a fight-Gus might miss, or not even shoot, though both were doubtful-but his own weakness held him in the chair. He was trembling and didn't know why.
'Woodrow, I wish you'd relax,' Augustus said. 'You can't save me, and it would be a pity if we fought at this stage. I might kill you accidentally and them boys would sit out on the plains and freeze.'
Call didn't answer. He felt tired and old and sad. He had pressed the mare all day and all night, had easily found the river where the battle took place, recovered Pea Eye's rifle and even his boots and shirt, found Gus's saddle, and raced for Miles City. He had risked ruining the Hell Bitch-he hadn't, though she was tired-and still he had arrived too late. Gus would die, and all he could do was keep a death watch.
The bartender brought a plate of venison, but he had no appetite. He accepted a glass of whiskey, though, and then another. They had no effect.
'I hope you won't become a drunkard over this,' Augustus said.
'I won't,' Call said. 'You can uncock that pistol. If you want to die, go ahead.'
Augustus laughed. 'You act like you hold it against me,' he said.
'I do,' Call said. 'You got a good head, if you'd use it. A man with a good head can be useful.'
'Doing what, braiding ropes?' Augustus asked. 'Not my style, Captain.'
'Your goddamn style is your downfall, and it's a wonder it didn't come sooner. Any special funeral?'
'Yes, I've been thinking of that,' Augustus said. 'I've a big favor to ask you, and one more to do you.'
'What favor?'
'The favor I want from you will be my favor to you,' Augustus said. 'I want to be buried in Clara's orchard.'
'In Nebraska?' Call asked, surprised. 'I didn't see no orchard.'
Augustus chuckled. 'Not in Nebraska,' he said. 'In Texas. By that little grove of live oaks on the south Guadalupe. Remember, we stopped by there a minute?'
'My God,' Call said, thinking his friend must be delirious. 'You want me to haul you to
'I know where you just got,' Augustus said. 'My burial can wait a spell. I got nothing against wintering in Montana. Just pack me in salt or charcoal or what you will. I'll keep well enough and you can make the trip in the spring. You'll be a rich cattle king by then and might need a restful trip.'
Call looked at his friend closely. Augustus looked sober and reasonably serious.
'To
'Yes, that's my favor to you,' Augustus said. 'It's the kind of job you was made for, that nobody else could do or even try. Now that the country is about settled, I don't know how you'll keep busy, Woodrow. But if you'll do this for me you'll be all right for another year, I guess.'
'You're one of a kind, Gus,' Call said, sighing. 'We'll all miss you.'
'Even you, Woodrow?' Augustus asked.
'Yes, me,' Call said. 'Why not me?'
'I take it back, Woodrow,' Augustus said. 'I have no doubt you'll miss me. You'll probably die of boredom this winter and I'll never get to Clara's orchard.'
Why do you call it that?
'We had picnics there,' Augustus said. 'I took to calling it that. It pleased Clara. I could please her oftener in those days.'
'Well, but is that any reason to go so far to be buried?' Call said. 'She'd allow you a grave in Nebraska, I'm sure.'
'Yes, but we had our happiness in Texas,' Augustus said. 'It was my best happiness, too. If you're too lazy to take me to Texas, then just throw me out the window and be done with it.' He spoke with vehemence. 'She's got her family in Nebraska,' Augustus added, more quietly. 'I don't want to lie there with that dumb horse trader she married.'
'This would make a story if there was anybody to tell it,' Call said. 'You want me to carry your body three thousand miles because you used to go picnicking with a girl on the Guadalupe River?'
'That, pius I want to see if you can do it,' Augustus said.
'But you won't know if I do it,' Call said. 'I reckon I'll do it, since you've asked.'
He said no more, and soon noticed that Augustus was dozing. He pulled his chair closer to the window. It was a cool night, but the lamp made the little room stuffy. He blew it out-there was a little moonlight. He tried to doze, but couldn't for a time. Then he did doze and woke to find Augustus wide awake, burning with fever. Call lit the lamp but could do nothing for him.
'That was the Musseishell River, where you holed up,' he said. 'I met that old trapper and he told me. We may take him with us to scout, since he knows the country.'
'I wish I had some better whiskey,' Augustus said. 'This is a cheap product.'
