Gus standing outside his little tent, waving at him. But both times, by heavy spurring, Blue Duck got the big sorrel to lunge free, pulling her horse free. The Hell Bitch looked up when he came into the livery stable, where he had put her. When they blew out the lamp a shaft of moonlight came in the window and cut across their bodies.
She was the more direct of the two. Augustus was inspecting the feet of his main horse, a large buckskin he called old Malaria, not a graceful mount but a reliable one. For the first two years he was in torment over what to do. After all, nobody was hurt, the herd was moving well, and Bol was no great loss.
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