“That looks like a hawk feather in your hat there,” the man said. It was obvious to Hawk that he just wanted to make a little conversation with a stranger.

“That’s right,” Hawk said. “It’s a hawk feather.” It prompted him to think about Winter Flower and wonder if she had recovered mentally from her ordeal at the hands of Luke and his partner.

“My name’s Earl Belcher. Don’t mean to be nosy, but does it mean somethin’ special?” the man asked, still intent upon making conversation.

“No, I reckon not,” Hawk replied. “I just thought I’d stick it on my hat.” In fact, the feather held many meanings, all of them special to him, but none he felt like sharing.

“I think I’ll try to find me a feather for my hat,” the little man said. “Maybe it would bring me luck. Whaddaya think, Jack?”

His friend chuckled and replied, “You’ve already had all the luck in this game of checkers, enough to cost me thirty-five cents.”

“Whoo, boy!” one of the three men drinking at the next table taunted. “How ’bout that, Lige? Those two old ladies have been playin’ high-stakes checkers and the prissy one is holdin’ thirty-five cents in prize money.”

“He best be lookin’ out for somebody wantin’ to rob him, if he leaves here totin’ all that cash,” Lige responded. All three at the table enjoyed a big laugh. The two checkers players ignored the taunting, but Lige was liquored up just enough to amuse himself by intimidating two men who were obviously old enough to be his father. “How ’bout it, old man? You need somebody to walk you home, so no booger-bears don’t get you?” He paused after he said it when he wondered, “Where the hell did you ladies come from, anyway? There ain’t no houses around here.”

It was obvious that the taunting wasn’t going to stop, so Earl decided to respond. “All right, mister, you and your friends have had a little laugh, so why don’t you get back to your drinkin’ and mind your own business? And we’ll mind ours. We’ll be leavin’ in a little while, anyway.”

His response seemed to make Lige mad. “Did you hear what that old fart said, Clell? Told us to mind our own business.” He turned a menacing frown on Earl and demanded, “I don’t want you hangin’ around in here where men are drinkin’, so I reckon you’d best get your scrawny behind outta my sight right now. That’s my own business.”