Fifteen Miles a Day

“I was sure you’da shot him dead right then and there.”

“I shoulda. Jesus. Imagine the gall you’d have to have to stiff us and then say it was our own doing.”

Being just a whisker past noon, the saloon was empty but for the two of them, huddled together at a small table in the far corner. They’d drove in a hundred head that morning. A collected gambling debt.

“They were sickly to begin with. We rode them any harder, they’da just fell over.”

“God damn it, I know that. The old man’s the one you shoulda been convincing.”

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