All the Pretty Horses

they rode into the town of Encantada of recent memory.
    They sat side by side on a bench of iron slats in the little alameda. A pair of the guards stood a little ways off with their rifles and a dozen children of different ages stood in the dust of the street watching them. Two of the children were girls about twelve years of age and when the prisoners looked at them they turned shyly and twisted at their skirts. John Grady called to them to ask if they could get them cigarettes.
    The guards glared at him. He made smoking motions at the girls and they turned and ran off down the street. The other children stood as before.
    Ladies’ man, said Rawlins.
    You dont want a cigarette?
    Rawlins spat slowly between his boots and looked up again. They aint goin to bring you no damn cigarette, he said.
    I’ll bet you.
    What the hell you goin to bet with?
    I’ll bet you a cigarette.
    How you goin to do that?
    I’ll bet you a cigarette she brings em. If she brings em I keep yours.
    What are you goin to give me if she dont bring em?
    If she dont bring em then you get mine.
    Rawlins stared out across the alameda.
    I aint above whippin your ass, you know.
    Dont you think if we’re goin to get out of this jackpot wemight better start thinkin about how to get out of it together?
    You mean like we got in it?
    You dont get to go back and pick some time when the trouble started and then lay everthing off on your friend.
    Rawlins didnt answer.
    Dont sull up on me. Let’s get it aired.
    All right. When they arrested you what did you say?
    I didnt say nothin. What would of been the use?
    That’s right. What would of been the use.
    What does that mean?
    It means you never asked em to go wake the patron, did you?
    No.
    I did.
    What did they say?
    Rawlins leaned and spat and wiped his mouth.
    They said he was awake. They said he’d been awake for a long time. Then they laughed.
    You think he sold us down the river?
    Dont you?
    I dont know. If he did it was because of some lie.
    Or some truth.
    John Grady sat looking down at his hands.
    Would it satisfy you, he said, if I was to just go on and admit to bein a fourteen carat gold plated son of a bitch?
    I never said that.
    They sat. After a while John Grady looked up.
    I cant back up and start over. But I dont see the point in slobberin over it. And I cant see where it would make me feel better to be able to point a finger at somebody else.
    It dont make me feel better. I tried to reason with you, that’s all. Tried any number of times.
    I know you did. But some things aint reasonable. Be that as it may I’m the same man you crossed that river with. How I was is how I am and all I know to do is stick. I never even promised you you wouldnt die down here. Never asked your word on it either. I dont believe in signing on just till it quits suitin you.
    You either stick or you quit and I wouldnt quit you I dont care what you done. And that’s about all I got to say.
    I never quit you, Rawlins said.
    All right.
    After a while the two girls came back. The taller of them held up her hand with two cigarettes in it.
    John Grady looked at the guards. They motioned the girls over and looked at the cigarettes and nodded and the girls approached the bench and handed the cigarettes to the prisoners together with several wooden matches.
    Muy amable, said John Grady. Muchas gracias.
    They lit the cigarettes off one match and John Grady put the other matches in his pocket and looked at the girls. They smiled shyly.
    Son americanos ustedes? they said.
    Sí.
    Son ladrones?
    Sí. Ladrones muy famosos. Bandoleros.
    They sucked in their breath. Qué precioso, they said. But the guards called to them and waved them away.
    They sat leaning forward on their elbows, smoking the cigarettes. John Grady looked at Rawlins’ boots.
    Where’s them new boots at? he said.
    Back at the bunkhouse.
    He nodded. They smoked. After a while the others returned and called to the guards. The guards gestured at the prisoners and they rose and nodded to the children and walked out to the street.
    They rode out through the north end of the town and they halted before an adobe building with a corrugated tin roof and an empty mud bellcot above it. Scales of old painted plaster still clung to the mud brick walls. They dismounted and entered a large room that might once have been a schoolroom. There was a rail along the front wall and a frame that could once have held a blackboard. The floors were of narrow pine boards and the grain