I can't wait all day just for the chance to shoot two worn-out old Rangers, he said. Depressed, Gus bought a bottle to take with him and left town. He had been dozing on the wagon seat, dreaming about his daughters, and had accidentally fired off the ten-gauge. By God, it looks like a good one comin', Soupy said, adjusting his bandana over his nose and pulling his hat down tight on his head.
In his rangering days he had helped bury several men who had had such things done to them, and memories of those charred and gouged corpses was with him in the darkness. Deets had fallen into one of his rare glooms, probably because he felt partly to blame for the boy's death. The others had been cleared, minor culprits having simply been turned loose in order to lessen the chances that Blue Duck might somehow contrive an escape. Gus had even tried to tell him the world was round, though Deets regarded that as just joking talk.
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