34
BLACK BEN
It was nice of Curly Barnes and Hap Morgan to let him go, Ben thought. But being let go didn’t mean he knew what he was about. It was dark on the prairie, and he could hear nothing but the sound of the saddle as it creaked and the sound of the horse’s hooves in the dirt, and, not all that far off out in the darkness, the howling of wolves and the yipping of coyotes.
The stars were out and the sky was a nice purple color. But now that he was outside of the canyon’s protective walls, the wind was blowing hard and Ben was cold. The land was craggy, and once or twice, Ben came to the foot of mesas and had to find some way around them. He thought he was going west, but he wouldn’t know for sure until the sun came up.
Ben took his hand and brought it up to his face and gingerly
