They swatted rain. Pricks of sleets, needles, thousands coming down.

“How would Jesse James rob a drive-through bank?” Maul said. “How would he do it?”

“No more stupid talk,” Ella said.

“He wouldn’t use the drive-through,” Saul said. Ella didn’t turn but she stared at Saul anyway. The horses drenched, waiting. The mules bit at sleet. “Jesse would go in the lobby to rob a bank.”

“No doubt,” Bowman said.

“A nasty man,” Ella said.

“Coin, bills, or gold?” Maul said.

“Bags of gold,” Saul said. “Jesse doubts representations of value.”

“Where would he bury the bags of gold?” said Maul.

“He’d eat the gold. Shit it out.”

Maul nodded. “How would Ginny do it?” he asked.

“My goodness,” Ella said.

“My goodness,” Bowman said in falsetto. “He thinks this girl’s Calamity Jane.”

“She wouldn’t bother with drive-through either,” Saul said with solemnity.

Dan hadn’t bothered with a poncho. He was dripping, shivering. “You and Bowman go south,” he said. “Maul and I go north. We split. Ella can go with and where she chooses.”

“I know where,” Bowman said.

She rubbed the paint’s wet neck. She spit past her leg. Saul looked away and erased her.

“Splitting is the topic of the day,” Bowman said.

“He talks like a tiny-baby green-parrot practicing,” Dan said.

“What did you say?”

“His mind’s blocked,” Saul said.

“I see that,” Bowman said.

“Like any muscle,” Saul said. “The mind can seize.”

Bowman held his hand out to catch the sleet.

“I have some things to say,” Saul said, almost yelling given the racket the sleet made. “I have to get this off my chest.”

“Well,” said Ella. “Of course you should then. This is a fine time.”