Lonesome Dove

Call took the dun down to the roofless barn and unsaddled him. The stone watering trough was full of water, clear water, but there was not much to feed the horse. Call turned him out to graze and watched while he took a long roll.

Then, curious to know if the saloon was really gone, he walked across the dry bed of Hat Creek and into the main street.

He had no sooner turned into the street than he saw a one-legged man coming toward him through the dusk. Why, Gus? he thought, not knowing for a second if he were with the living or the dead. He remembered sitting in the grave on the Guadalupe, and for a moment could not remember climbing out.

But the one-legged man only turned out to be Dillard Brawley, the barber who had ruined his voice screeching the time he and Gus had had to take off his leg.

For his part, Dillard Brawley was so surprised to see Captain Call standing in the street that he almost dropped the few perch he had managed to catch in the river. In the growing dark he had to step close to see it was the Captain-there was only a little light left.

"Why, Captain," Dillard said in his hoarse whisper, "did you and the boys finally get back?"

"Not the boys," Call said. "Just me. What happened to the saloon?"

He could see that he had been right-the general store was still there, but the Dry Bean was gone.

"Burnt," Dillard whispered. "Burnt near a year ago."

"What started the fire?" Call asked.

"Wanz started it. Burnt up in it, too. Locked himself in that whore's room and wouldn't come out."

"Well, I swear," Call said.

"The pi-aner burnt up with him," Dillard said. "Made the church folks mad. They thought if he was go

Call walked over and stood where the saloon had been. There was nothing left but pale ashes and a few charred boards.

"When she left, Wanz couldn't stand it," Dillard said. "He sat in her room a month and then he burnt it."

"Who?" Call asked, looking at the ashes.

"The woman," Dillard whispered. "The woman. They say he missed that whore."