Chapter 9

I followed him down to wash up, then sat on the bank to consider the situation. I should go back, I thought. Face the music, except it meant jail and I wasn’t up for that. On the other hand, I don’t think I’d been seen shooting. But had I been seen running from the alley? People, being natural snoops, had a way of turning up in the damndest places, always wide-eyed as to goings on. Could I chance that? I could say Royle drew on me except he didn’t and would be found empty-handed. No, there was no reason to return. Except Jack, of course. It tore me up to leave him, to run out under such circumstance. I’d eased one hurt, but put a worse one in its place.

Hunger finally got to me, so I saddled Dilly and rode on, coming to a town when the sun was high.

“Where am I?” I asked a fellow.

“Lyndon,” he answered.

“Is that Colorado?”

“New Mexico by about a mile.”