Call could make it back to this creek in one ride on that feisty mare of his. A herd had been sold that morning and was being loaded onto boxcars. I've never talked to a woman from Missouri. Not in the market, Call said.
That mare Captain Call wouldn't trade me didn't look that gentle, yet he's a grown man. He's gone. The only relief he could find was in the knowledge that he was doing his job and earning the thirty dollars a month the town paid him. But if there was even one man among them with any sense they'd just shoot the horse, and there he'd be.
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