The sound of an automobile was still so uncommon in the countryside that it brought out everyone within hearing distance to see who was coming or going. Walter appeared in the door of the toolshed, and Eve stood on the step in front of her kitchen, shading her eyes with her hand. The black dog trotted to meet the car, barking all the way.
Out in the field, someone halted a team and turned to look. Hewey could not be sure at the distance, but he supposed this was Lester the nester boy, hired on a day basis to help Walter with his crops. Lester never lacked for excuses to halt work. Hewey would bet a dollar that he would leave the mules standing and come all the way to the house to find out who had arrived, though it was none of his business.
Eve waited for the dust to settle after Alvin braked to a stop; then she walked to the car. “Hewey! We didn’t expect to see you home so soon. Is anything the matter? Are you all right? Where’s Tommy?”
That was a lot of questions, and Hewey lumped the answers together. “I’m doin’ fair to middlin’, and Tommy ought to be along in a day or two. He’s bringin’ our horses.”
“That boy? All by himself?”
“By the time I was his age I’d seen all of Texas and half of hell.” Lately he had seen the other half.
Alvin asked, “How long ’til dinner?”
Eve said, “If I’d known you-all were comin’ I’d’ve killed the old red rooster. I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for mutton stew.”
“Mutton?” Hewey demanded.
“Didn’t Tommy tell you that Walter bought us a flock of sheep? They pay better than cattle when we can keep the coyotes off of them.”
A bad taste came into Hewey’s mouth, as if he had been chewing tobacco. He had boasted to Dutch Schneider that there were two things he had never done: swamp out a saloon and herd sheep. He had then proceeded to sweep Schneider’s floor. Now he might find himself herding sheep.
Stove-up and not worth his beans, he could sink no lower, it seemed.
As Hewey stepped out of the car, bracing himself on the cane, the old dog moved up close and barked at him. It never had accepted him as a member of the family.
Hewey had to limp all the way around the car before he could satisfy Walter that he was not a total invalid. Alvin declared, “He’s gettin’ pretty good with that cane. Before long you’ll have to run to keep up with him.”
Alvin was trying to make him feel better, but his solicitude only sharpened Hewey’s sense of being less than whole.
Lester stopped twenty feet short of the car and stared without speaking. It was just as well; Hewey could not remember ever hearing him say anything worth listening to. Lester welcomed any chance to get away from the plow a while. Sooner or later, Hewey figured, he would wangle himself a job at the courthouse. Things there moved at about his chosen speed.
Hewey said, “Lester, would you mind takin’ my bedroll to the barn? I’ll be sleepin’ down there.”
Eve said, “You’ll do no such of a thing, Hewey. You’ll sleep in the boys’ room like kinfolks, not in the barn like a hired hand …”—she turned severe eyes toward Lester—“one that’s fixin’ to get fired if he doesn’t go back to the field and do a little work.”
Walter said, “Now, Eve ..” Walter’s peacemaker trait was often called upon when things did not go Eve’s way.
Lester turned and started toward the field in a trot, though he soon slowed to a walk, and he climbed over the fence rather than take the trouble to open a heavy gate.
“That boy’s poor mother,” Eve lamented, “I can imagine the tribulations he’s put her through.”
Though he was a brother-in-law rather than a wayward son, Hewey had given Eve more than her share of tribulation over the years. He said, “Soon as I get this cast off my arm and my knee is a little more limber, you can send Lester home.”
Eve said, “You wouldn’t be in that shape if you hadn’t tried to spare Tommy from gettin’ hurt. You’re here to rest, Hewey Calloway, and you’ll do it if I have to tie you to a rockin’ chair.”
Alvin asked again, “How long ’til dinner?”
After three days Hewey feared he would wear a hole through the seat of the rocking chair. He was restless to be up and doing something, even if it was wrong. The dog’s barking gave him reason to arise and hobble to the door.
“Looks like Tommy’s comin’,” he told Eve, then went outside. He was halfway to the barn when he heard the screen door slam as Eve came out to look for her son.
Tommy was not alone. Long before he could see the face, Hewey knew the rider. He could usually recognize his friends at a distance by the way they sat on their horses, and no one rode with quite the same easy slouch as Snort Yarnell. Hewey was not sure whether to whoop for joy or give in to dread. With Snort, there was never any knowing.
Tommy was riding his own dun horse, leading Biscuit on a long
rope knotted so it would not choke. As soon as Tommy released him, Biscuit headed straight for the feed trough; he knew exactly where it was.
Hewey said to Tommy, “You’re kind of careless who you let ride with you.”
Snort grinned at Hewey, showing his gold tooth in full glory. “You still gimpin’ around, tryin’ for sympathy?”
“What happened to that night watchman’s job? They catch you openin’ the bar after hours?”
“Me and a runny-nosed constable had a little set-to. It was his fault, not mine, but you know how narrow-minded them small-town John Laws can be. After a few nights of walkin’ the streets, I decided I’d rather take my chances on bein’ killed by a horse than die of boredom.”
Snort’s grin died, and he looked Hewey up and down with a sober eye. “We’ve come to help you get well, me and Tommy. We’re goin’ to work you and make you exercise ’til that arm and leg move better than the day you was born.”
“It’s more likely you’ll kill me, if I don’t kill you first.” Hewey turned back to Tommy. “You took your sweet time gettin’ home”
A hint of guilt came into Tommy’s face. Hewey noticed a bruise on his cheekbone. “Snort had to go by Pecos City to see a man about a horse.”
“I warned you to take roundance on Pecos. It’s too lively a town for a boy your age.”
“It sure was lively after Snort got there. We had to leave in kind of a hurry.”
Snort was all innocence. “It was their fault. They ain’t as friendly anymore as them old-timey Pecos folks used to be.”
Eve was walking out from the house. Hewey cautioned Tommy, “I wouldn’t say anything to your mother about Pecos. She might run us all off.”
Eve hugged her son, then stepped back to examine the bruise. Quickly Tommy said, “Dunny spooked at a rabbit and caught me off guard. I took a fall.”
Somebody’s been teaching that boy to lie, Hewey thought. He gave Snort an accusing look.
He doubted that Eve was taken in. She had seen through windies told by far better liars than Tommy. Her voice had a crisp edge of suspicion as she asked Snort, “You are stayin’ for supper, I suppose?” It was less an invitation than an expression of resignation.
Snort was notoriously unreliable. He might stay a month, or he might ride away in ten minutes without saying a word. Hewey hoped he didn’t stay a month. Eve would be chewing up nails and spitting them out long before then.
Snort said, “Eve, the angels in heaven could take lessons from you. I’ll be here for supper tonight and many more after that. Poor old Hewey needs my help.”
Eve frowned. “God had better help us all.”
After she returned to the house, Snort poured oats in a trough for his horse and dropped the bucket back into the barrel from which it had come. “First thing we got to do, Hewey, is cut that cast off of your arm. How do you expect to move your elbow with it all trussed up thataway?”
Hewey had been toying with the same notion. His leg had not collapsed when he unwrapped his knee. It was becoming a little more flexible every day, though he could not straighten it fully. He could even take a few rabbit-hopping steps without the cane. “Since when have you been practicin’ medicine?”
Snort said, “I’ve doctored many a horse. In your case there can’t be much difference.”
Gratitude made tears come into Hewey’s eyes. “You don’t know how much it means to me, Snort, you comin’all the way back here to try and help.”
Snort’s face went dead serious. “You’re my friend, Hewey. I’ve moved around a lot and rode with a lot of good fellers, but I ain’t ever had many real close friends. Mainly there was just you and Old Grady Welch. I lost Grady. Time we got to him, there wasn’t a thing I could do to help him. In Alpine, I was sore afraid I was fixin’ to lose you, too.”
“I’m figurin’ on bein’ around for a long time yet.”
“And I’m here to help you.”
At the supper table, Lester the nester boy listened with mouth hanging open as Snort told stories. Some contained a grain or two of truth, though not enough to hurt them much.
When Snort paused to poke half a biscuit into his mouth, Tommy told Hewey, “Mr. Jenkins asked about you. Said he was sorry you left without sayin’ good-bye. He wanted to proposition you again about that foreman’s job at the Circle W.”
“He hired him a foreman.”
“Seems like him and Mr. Underhill got in an argument over the way to handle those broncs he got from Fat Gervin.”
Eve corrected him. “Mr. Gervin.”
“Mr. Fat Gervin. Anyway, Mr. Underhill left, and Mr. Jenkins needs a foreman.”
Hewey felt a stirring of interest. The Circle W was as pleasurable as any place he had ever worked, situated in a valley with sheltering mountains on either side, a clear creek meandering unhurriedly down the length of it, and not too many fences or gates. It was far enough from town that a man wouldn’t be bothered by a lot of uninvited company.
“I can’t think of a place I’d rather go if I was inclined to take on the responsibility and if I wasn’t busted up like an eggshell. I can’t even ride a horse.”
Snort argued, “What responsibility? You just tell the boys what you want done and they do it. A foreman don’t even have to ride a
horse. I’ve worked for several that rode around in a buggy like they owned the bank. Even had somebody hitch up their team. It’s like havin’ a gravy bowl that don’t ever run dry.”
With Snort around, it would need to be an awfully deep bowl, Hewey thought, watching him take another helping of mutton stew. Snort probably didn’t recognize what it was, for he had a cowboy’s unreasoning prejudice against sheep and everything associated with them.
Hewey said, “I don’t know that I could give orders and stand back, and the shape I’m in, I couldn’t do much else.”
After supper Snort jerked his head toward the door. “Come on out to the barn with me, Hewey. We’ll do somethin’about the cast on your arm.”
Eve protested, “That time Walter broke his leg, we had to leave the cast on for three months.”
Snort assured her, “An arm heals faster than a leg.”
Hewey wondered where that piece of wisdom came from. Probably out of Snort’s imagination. But he was ready to shed the cast anyway. It itched as if a nest of wood ants had hatched under it, and it gave off a smell that reminded him of a dead mule.
Snort rummaged among Walter’s tools. Cotton had been methodical, making sure every piece of equipment had its proper place and was returned to it immediately after use. When Cotton left home to seek his own way working on automobiles, that sense of good order went with him. Snort said, “Walter’s bound to have a set of hoof trimmers around here someplace.”
He found them and began to nip at the edges of the cast, breaking it away one small piece at a time. Hewey winced, for Snort’s twisting and straining made the arm hurt. Hewey was almost ready at one point to call a halt, but by then half the cast was in shreds, and he saw no choice except to go ahead. Both men had worked up a healthy sweat, Snort through exertion and Hewey through fighting
pain. Snort stopped to roll a cigarette. He offered it to Hewey.
Hewey said, “I’ve quit. Since the accident they’ve got to where they taste like cow chips.” Not only could he no longer work as he used to, but one of the simplest of his pleasures had abandoned him as well.
“Never tasted a cow chip,” Snort said, “so I wouldn’t know.”
Tommy and Lester had come to the barn and watched in silence as Snort methodically demolished the cast, passing the elbow and working along the upper arm. Finally he pulled the last of it away. The rough barn floor was littered with bits of plaster and cloth.
Hewey carefully felt the arm. It still hurt to the touch where the bone had been broken just above the elbow. “Looks sort of crooked, don’t it?”
Snort shrugged. “Nobody’ll see it. Your sleeve’ll cover it up.” Snort had one leg twisted and scarred from an argument with a horse. He maintained that it still worked all right, even if it looked like a bear had chewed on it. A cowboy hadn’t graduated to the top ranks until he was marked up some.
Hewey tried working the elbow. Like the knee, it resisted. The arm bent only a little.
Snort said, “You need to squirt some axle grease in there.”
Lester was awed. “You reckon that’d work?”
Tommy elbowed him. “Don’t you know when Snort’s kiddin’?”
“It makes sense to me.”
Snort gripped Hewey’s arm above and below the elbow and tried to force it to bend. Hewey hollered out and jerked free. He rubbed the arm in an attempt to smother the fire Snort’s abuse had aroused. “If that’s the way you’ve doctored horses, you probably had to shoot them afterwards.”
“Some of them got well. Your arm is goin’to take a lot of work.”
That night Hewey lay in bed awake, the arm throbbing so hard from the strain that tears forced their way through his clenched eyelids.
He was bitterly disappointed that it had not healed straight, that it seemed so weak. He kept trying to work it, but the elbow moved only a little, and every attempt was like dipping the arm in hot coals.
He had been resisting what Alvin had suggested. Now, through the pain, he whispered a prayer.
Hewey paused from hoeing weeds in Eve’s garden to wipe sweat from his face. Snort leaned on a fence post and rolled a cigarette. He hollered, “Don’t stop now. You need to keep workin’ if you’re goin’to free up them joints.”
Hewey considered breaking the hoe handle across Snort’s head, but that would probably violate some stupid law passed by city folks who had no idea of the emergencies that might arise in the countryside. He looked out into the field, where Walter and Tommy were working. Lester the nester boy had gone home.
Hewey said, “There’s weeds enough here for both of us.”
“You’re the one that needs the exercise. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’. I think I’ll go see if there’s any coffee left from breakfast.”
Snort entered the frame house. Shortly Eve came out, walking to the garden, her arms folded. She looked back over her shoulder, a frown set deeply. “You reckon Snort has got a tapeworm?”
“Nothin’ about Snort would surprise me.”
“I asked him if he was hungry. He said no, he just wanted a cup of coffee. Then he mixed half a pound of butter into a plateful of molasses and started swabbin’ it up with cold biscuits. I never saw a skinny man who could eat so much. How much longer does he figure on stayin’ here?”
“He ain’t said, but I’m wishin’ he’d take a notion to leave. Every day for two weeks it’s been ’bend that arm, work that leg,’over and over. And when he gets tired he sics Tommy on me. He’s about wore me down to a nub.”
“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I would sure like to get a lot fonder of Snort Yarnell. I guess he’s done you some good here, but in the long run he’s a bad influence. He’ll try and lead you back to the wanderin’ways you and him shared for all those years.”
“Snort’s a good old boy at heart. He don’t mean any harm.”
“Take a real hard look at him. He’s got nothin’, he’s got nobody. He drifts from one place to another. God knows what he’s lookin’ for. I doubt Snort knows himself.”
“He seems happy enough.”
“It’s all a show. He’s lonely and miserable, and he tries to cover it up with bluster and hooraw You’ve been enough like him that it scares me half to death. He’ll never change, Hewey, but you can. You just have to make up your mind. It wouldn’t hurt you to call on the Lord for help.”
“I already have,” he admitted. “And maybe He heard me. See my cane hangin’ on the fence yonder?”
She suddenly realized. “You’re walkin’ without it.”
“Can’t hold a cane and a hoe both at the same time.”
Eve was so pleased she kissed him on the cheek. “Mind what I said about Snort. The world’s not big enough to hold two like him.”
When she returned to the house, he noticed that Biscuit had walked up to the garden fence and stood there, watching. Hewey laid down the hoe and limped over to the horse, which stood still while Hewey rubbed and patted its neck. “You’re gettin’fat, old boy. All them oats and no work. But I don’t know what I can do about it.” Tommy had been riding the horse a little, though not enough to wear off much weight.
Biscuit turned his head, pointing his ears toward the road. An automobile was coming. Hewey said, “It’s a disgrace for company to catch a cowboy with a hoe in his hand. But it’d be worse if I was herdin’Walter’s sheep.” He patted the horse once more and turned
away, propping the hoe against the fence and picking up his cane.
The car was Alvin’s. Snort came out of the house, eating a biscuit. He walked to the garden to join Hewey. “Just because we’ve got a little company don’t mean you need to quit work. Ain’t nobody except Alvin and his womenfolks.”
Spring was in the backseat, behind Alvin and Cora. Hewey glanced down at his clothes, dirty from the garden work. He tried to brush some of the dust away, but he did little more than move it around. He felt awkward about going out to greet Spring, but it would be even more awkward if he avoided her. Every time he saw her, old emotions began to stir, regret for old decisions still painful though they had seemed right.
Snort sensed his indecision. “Careful, compadre. You got away once by the skin of your teeth. You may not be that lucky again.”
Hewey limped to the car, tipping his dusty hat to the women and shaking Alvin’s hand. Alvin said, “Farley Neal and Julio are behind us a ways. They’re bringin’ a set of green-broke ponies for Tommy to work to the harness.”
Walter and Tommy had seen the car and were on their way in from the field. Eve hugged Cora and Spring. “Everybody come on into the house. I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee.” She gave Hewey a quick, furtive nod that told him to join Spring. “You too, Hewey.”
Hewey said, “I still got a lot of work to do.” Reluctantly he pulled away from Spring and the others, earning a reproachful frown from Eve. Spring’s face was without expression; he could not tell what she was thinking. He returned to the garden, Snort walking with him.
Snort said, “You done right, not goin’ in the house. Womenfolks are always workin’and schemin’to get somebody hitched up. They can’t stand to see a man stay free.”
“They never got you hitched up.”
“And they won’t. There ain’t no bigger threat to a man’s freedom than a good woman. Once they set a hook in him, he’s a fish on a line. The kind of women I like don’t ask for much, a few dollars and a little of your time. They smile when they see you comin’ and they smile when you go. No tears and no regrets.”
Hewey nodded. It sounded good if he didn’t examine it closely. “But someday you’ll be old and all by yourself, and even your money won’t make them smile at you.”
“I don’t figure on ever gettin’ old. I’ll just turn into a gray mule and go around kickin’ the people I don’t like.”
Hewey retrieved his hoe and chopped a few more weeds. Snort sidled up to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “Look out. She’s comin’.”
Hewey turned. Spring was at the garden gate. The sight of her stirred a warm feeling.
Her voice was pleasant enough, though her smile was tentative. “Are you going to work all day?”
“The weeds are tryin’to take Eve’s garden. And I need the exercise to get my joints limbered.”
Snort said, “I been workin’ real hard on him. Want to get him back to where he was before that bronc messed him up.”
Hewey sensed that Spring wished to talk but did not feel free while Snort stood there. He said, “Snort, you look like a man that needs a cup of coffee, or somethin’.”
“I had my coffee already.” He caught on. “Oh! Sure, reckon I do.” He made his misgivings plain as he moved toward the garden gate, looking back. “Don’t you forget what I told you about them good women.”
Spring gave Hewey a quizzical look. Hewey shrugged. “Don’t pay no attention. Half the time Snort don’t know what he’s sayin’.”
When Snort was out of hearing, Spring nodded toward Hewey’s
cane hanging from the top wire of the fence. “It appears you’re making good progress if you don’t need that cane all the time. I’m pleased for you, Hewey.”
“It’s Snort’s doin’, mostly. He keeps workin’ me ’til I’m about ready to bust him with an ax handle.”
Biscuit remained near the garden fence, grazing. Spring said, “Are you riding your horse yet?”
“Ain’t tried. It hurt too much the last time.”
“Perhaps it’s just as well. As soon as you could ride you would probably be wanting to leave again.”
He thought he detected a faint edge of resentment but hoped it was his imagination. It had been four years, and anyway, she had told him it was all right for him to go. He hoed a few more weeds, waiting for her to say something else to give him some gauge of her feelings.
She said, “This may all have happened for a reason. It may be a way of turning your life around and setting you off on a new road.”
“I liked the road I was on, and my life the way it was.”
“How well I remember.”
“Look at me, all busted up, can’t do an honest day’s work. What am I worth to anybody?”
“You’re worth a lot to Walter and Eve and Tommy.”
He hoped she might add And to me, but she did not. He was not sure how he would react if she had. Four years ago he had shut a gate and locked it behind him.
She asked, “So, what next, Hewey? What do you do now?”
“Ain’t much I can do. Cowpunchin’was the only life I ever knew or cared to know. I may not be able to do it anymore.”
“You have to accept that some things may never be the same. There’ve been changes in what you can do, but there doesn’t have to be any change in what you are.”
“And what is that?”
“You’re a good and decent man at heart. Alvin once said you’re an eagle on the wing. That’s why I let you ride away, because I couldn’t bear to tie up an eagle or put it in a cage. You’re still the eagle you always were.”
“I’m afraid I got my wings clipped.”
“But I think your eyes are still on the sky, Hewey. And my feet are still on the ground.”
She walked back to the house. Hewey kept hoeing the same weed over and over.
Neal and Julio brought the young horses. Hewey saw the eagerness in Tommy’s face at the challenge of training them, and he felt a glow of envy. At least Eve wouldn’t have to worry about her son leaving again for a while. He had something to stay for.
Hewey stood outside the corral, looking in. Neal came around and stood beside him, saying nothing at first. Hewey decided one of them had to speak. “Good-lookin’ set of horses. Ain’t nobody raises better ones than Alvin.”
Neal blurted, “I’m goin’ to ask her to marry me.”
Hewey flinched as if Neal had hit him in the stomach. He forced a smile, but it was thin as water. “I think she’ll say yes.”
“Maybe she will. Again, maybe she won’t.”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Afraid, maybe. She’s been hurt in the past.”
Hewey gripped the fence so hard that his knuckles ached. “I reckon I know about that.” As badly as it pained him, he had to say, “I think you’re the right man for her. I wish you luck.”
Neal walked to the house alone. Hewey leaned against a post, trying to think of what he should have said to Spring, though it had already been too late … four years late.
The two horsebackers left soon after dinner so they could get back to the Lawdermilk place in time for the chores. Alvin, Cora and Spring stayed until mid-afternoon. Hewey remained in the garden for the most part.
Spring made no attempt to be alone with him again, but he was acutely conscious that her gaze followed him when he was in sight. As the visitors prepared to go, she turned to Hewey. “Keep trying. You can do it.” She got into the car and did not look at him again.
Eve was keenly watching them both. Once she had pushed hard to make a match between the two, hoping to crowd Hewey into giving up his wandering ways and setting a more stable example for her sons. Watching the automobile pull away, she moved close to Hewey. “You know Spring’s concerned about you.”
“She’s concerned about everybody. She’s got a good heart.”
“And it could’ve been yours.” She went back into the house.
Snort jerked his head. “Let’s go, Hewey. There’s still a-plenty of weeds in that garden, and you need to be workin’ them muscles.”
Instead, Hewey looked for his nephew. “Tommy, I wisht you’d go catch up Biscuit for me.”
Tommy’s eyes lighted like the Fourth of July. “You goin’ to ride him?”
“I’m goin’ to try damned hard.”
Snort said, “It took you long enough to make up your mind. Or was it that schoolteacher done it?”
Tommy saddled Biscuit and led him out of the corral. He said, “You ain’t been on him in a while, so he’s fat and frisky. I’d better ride him around a little first.”
“The day somebody has to top out my own horse for me is the day I go lookin’ for a night watchman’s job.” He gave Snort a challenging look.
Snort winced. “You goin’ to hold that over my head the rest of
my life? Just stepped off of the trail one time … just once …”
Hewey started slowly, patting the horse on the neck, rubbing its ears.
Snort declared, “If you’re goin’ to do it, do it!”
Hewey hung his cane on the fence. Carefully he lifted his left foot to the stirrup, which forced him to put all his weight on the injured right leg. He gritted his teeth against expected pain, but it was milder than he thought. Tommy’s eyes were wide with anticipation. Walter had caught on to what was happening and had come from the milking pen to watch.
Hewey said, “Tommy, you’re young and innocent, and the Lord’ll listen to you. Talk to Him for me.”
“I already have.”
Hewey gripped the saddle horn and pulled himself up. The right leg was still stiff, and he dragged it across Biscuit’s rump. A less gentle horse might have jumped. Hewey sought the stirrup with his right foot, found it and slid it in past the toes. The leg felt as if it were still bound. He could not bring it tightly against the horse’s ribs as he did with his left, and a small ache began in the knee. But these negatives were minor considerations against a much more important fact: he was in the saddle.
Tommy whooped for joy. Walter stood beside his son, an arm around Tommy’s shoulder. Snort Yarnell grinned in satisfaction, as if it were all his doing.
Hewey rode Biscuit in a wide circle, walking him at first, then putting him into an easy trot. He hurt in several places; there was no getting around that. But he was riding.
Eve came out onto the kitchen step to watch. Hewey saw her lift the hem of her apron and dab it against her eyes.
After a while his side began to ache, and he knew he had done all he should for the day. But he would ride again tomorrow, and the day after. It would get better. It had to.
He felt like shouting as he slid down from the saddle, avoiding too much weight on the right leg. He patted Biscuit again and handed the reins to Tommy. “Unsaddle him for me, will you? And give him a double bait of oats.”
Tommy had a smile a yard wide. “Sure thing, Uncle Hewey.”
Walter pumped Hewey’s hand, and Snort slapped him on the back so hard that Hewey thought he would lose his breath. Walter said, “Let’s go to the house. I think we could all use some coffee.”
Hewey retrieved the cane from the fence. He took a couple of steps on it, then detoured over to the woodpile. He pitched the cane onto the top of the chopped stove wood and limped back to join Walter and Snort.
“I don’t believe I’ll need that thing anymore.”