I stuck by my brother, of course, but the others murmured amongst themselves most of the day. The gang slouched in their saddles and rode single file through snatching weeds along the Arkansas Cimarron, and Canadian rivers until we got to the sod house. I had to break a morning skin of ice to wash in the river; then I shaved in my spotted mirror piece while Doolin cooked a big kettle of whatever food we had left. Bob rolled all his property into his bedroll and tied it to his horse and rode over to the six of us as we squatted with bowls by the fire.

“Adios,” my brother said.

“Where the hell you goin’?” Doolin demanded.

“What’s it matter?”

“Well, how we gonna get the next job arranged?”

“No such thing as a next job, Bill. Emmett and I are through.”

Broadwell swallowed. “Through! Are you loco, Bob? Why, I haven’t hardly started yet!”

“You’re full of surprises today,” said Pierce.

So another argument went on for most of an hour but I didn’t say a word and Powers just listened with his eyes closed. I washed out my bowl in the river and put on my cleanest dirty shirt and rolled everything else in my raincoat. I heard Doolin say how the express companies were tying money up in pink and blue baby ribbons and that the gang ought to step up and say thanks for it. I pulled a pack mule from the corral and strapped my tools and boots and whatall onto the carry rack.

When I got on my horse, Bob was saying he didn’t give a dang about all the deputies that were crowding on our heels; he wasn’t talking about lack of nerve when he said he wanted quit of the gang. He said it was plain horse sense though that you can’t keep robbery up for long and get away with it.

Something like that. I wasn’t listening very close.

He said, “I’m twenty-one years old and I know my mind. You boys and I have always understood each other and there’s no misunderstanding now. This is where Emmett and I call a halt—and you can tie to that.”

I said good-bye with some real sadness, and I printed addresses and said we should get together for Thanksgiving. Then Bob and I rode northwest for the Fort Supply reservation and the town of Woodward where Miss Moore had rented a house. I saw the five of them sulking and brooding and loitering near the fire like men in a railroad yard; then Newcomb jerked the Indian blanket from the doorway and Broadwell came out of the sod house with his cat Turtle under his red flannel shirt and Powers crouched through the pole gate of Pierce’s corral and saddled up his horse.