It took time to count all of the money we had—it was more than all of the other jobs we’d done added together twice over. But now the authorities had good likenesses of most of us. They had a drawing of D, probably a local recognized him, and the other fellow’s scarf had fallen off when he got shot and he clamped it to the wound to stop the bleeding instead of covering his face back up. And of course J was so tall he always stuck out. It was time for us to cool it for a spell.
We went to the Arizona Territory where we could be anonymous and live in adobe houses and take to the plains whether it was winter or summer if someone came after us . . . . . . . . .
Sorry about that—the train stopped for water.
We went to a town called Nuevo Pueblo and got ourselves adobe houses just beyond the
