All the Pretty Horses

and he could have named things he’d rather have seen.
    Yonder’s my goddamn pistol, sang out Blevins.
    John Grady reached behind and grabbed him by the shirt or he’d have slid down from the horse.
    Hold on, idjit, he said.
    Hold on hell, said Blevins.
    What do you think you’re goin to do?
    Rawlins had put his horse alongside of them. Keep ridin, he hissed. Good God almighty.
    Some children were watching from a doorway and Blevins was looking back over his shoulder.
    If that horse is here, said Rawlins, they wont have to send for Dick Tracy to figure out who it belongs to.
    What do you want to do?
    I dont know. Get off the damn street. May be too late anyways. I say we stash him in a safe place somewheres till we can look around.
    Does that suit you, Blevins?
    It dont make a damn if it suits him or not, said Rawlins. He dont have a say in it. Not if he wants my help he dont.
    He rode past them and they turned off down a clay gully that passed for a street. Quit lookin back, damn it, said John Grady.
    They left him with a canteen of water in the shade of some cottonwoods and told him to stay out of sight and then they rode slowly back through the town. They were picking their way along one of those rutted gullies of which the town was composed when they saw the horse looking out of the sashless window of an abandoned mud house.
    Keep ridin, said Rawlins.
    John Grady nodded.
    When they got back to the cottonwoods Blevins was gone. Rawlins sat looking over the barren dusty countryside. He reached in his pocket for his tobacco.
    I’m goin to tell you somethin, cousin.
    John Grady leaned and spat. All right.
    Ever dumb thing I ever done in my life there was a decision I made before that got me into it. It was never the dumb thing. It was always some choice I’d made before it. You understand what I’m sayin?
    Yeah. I think so. Meanin what?
    Meanin this is it. This is our last chance. Right now. This is the time and there wont be another time and I guarantee it.
    Meanin just leave him?
    Yessir.
    What if it was you?
    It aint me.
    What if it was?
    Rawlins twisted the cigarette into the corner of his mouth and plucked a match from his pocket and popped it alight with his thumbnail. He looked at John Grady.
    I wouldnt leave you and you wouldnt leave me. That aint no argument.
    You realize the fix he’s in?
    Yeah. I realize it. It’s the one he’s put hisself in.
    They sat. Rawlins smoked. John Grady crossed his hands on the pommel of his saddle and sat looking at them. After a while he raised his head.
    I cant do it, he said.
    Okay.
    What does that mean?
    It means okay. If you cant you cant. I think I knew what you’d say anyways.
    Yeah, well. I didnt.
    They unsaddled and staked out the horses and lay in the dryleaves under the cottonwoods and after a while they slept. When they woke it was almost dark. The boy was squatting there watching them.
    It’s a good thing I aint a rogue, he said. I could of slipped up on you all and carried off everthing you own.
    Rawlins turned and looked at him from under his hat and turned back. John Grady sat up.
    What did you all find out? said Blevins.
    Your horse is here.
    Did you see him?
    Yeah.
    What about the saddle?
    We didnt see no saddle.
    I aint leavin here till I get all my stuff.
    There you go, said Rawlins. Listen at that.
    What’s he say? said Blevins.
    Never mind, said John Grady.
    If it was his stuff it’d be different I bet. Then he’d be for gettin it back, wouldnt he?
    Dont egg it on.
    Listen, shit-for-brains, said Rawlins. If it wasnt for this man I wouldnt be here at all. I’d of left your ass back up in that arroyo. No, I take that back. I’d of left you up on the Pecos.
    We’ll try and get your horse back, said John Grady. If that wont satisfy you then you let me know right now.
    Blevins stared at the ground.
    He dont give a shit, said Rawlins. I could of wrote it down. Get shot dead for horsestealin it dont mean a damn thing to him. He expects it.
    It aint stealin, said Blevins. It’s my horse.
    A lot of ice that’ll cut. You tell this man what you intend to do cause I guarantee you I dont give a big rat’s ass.
    All right, said Blevins.
    John Grady studied him. We get you your horse you’ll be ready to ride.
    Yeah.
    We got your word on that?
    Word’s ass, said Rawlins.
    Yeah, said Blevins.
    John Grady looked at Rawlins. Rawlins lay under his hat. He turned back to Blevins. All right, he said.
    He got up and got his bedroll and came back and handed