And meanwhile, back at the barn, the cob doesn’t want the bit but takes it. The rooster hasn’t quit. The woman tastes manure on her tongue. The panniers are badly packed. She leads the cob up the north fence line shared with Bowman.

And likewise meanwhile, speak of the devil, this neighbor is enjoying a little dawn target practice. A set of bottles sits on fence posts. Bowman wears earmuffs. His jeans are black and creased. The pistol makes his body longer, one leg in front. The bottles fly. Early rising’s no trouble for Bowman. Last night he turned in at ten. His mind and body are perfectly fresh. Bang. Each shell costs a dollar. He’s got plenty. His little son runs to set new bottles. Bang bang bang, a Ruger. The woman’s stopped the cob to watch the shooting show. Bowman is a local talent. The bottles are mostly brown. Some are Fireball red, but they fly like the rest. The son waves at her with a stiff arm. Bowman stands down. They both stare at her. An eagle drifts over with widespread wings. The son hands the rifle to Bowman, taking the pistol in return. Bowman shoulders the rifle. Bang. Feathers rock down. The rifle follows the bird and levels horizontal, turns. The crosshairs hover on the escapee’s forehead, a violation of the Golden Rule of Shooting Practice. She tugs the cob.

Cut to the crotch of the tree, where the obedient children replaced the pistol, and then cut to the pistol. Ginny fires one bullet into the mare’s temple. Dan, the sleeping beauty, snoozes through that too.

At Barryman’s Quarry she leaves the cob to graze. The house dangles on the quarry’s edge. She slips past cordwood stacked for ten winters, up the front porch and in. She emerges with a 30-30 lever action saddle rifle, exact same weapon over every mantle on our show. The rifle is theft, it’s true, but one can hardly go to the mountains without a rifle. The Kid will need one himself.

She rides one knee over the horn, not quite sidesaddle. The cob bobs with energy, a quick walk then a trot then a canter. Annoyed, she lifts her knee over, despite discomfort, rides proper now. Our hero has no trouble following her at first. He doesn’t approve of stealing but concedes the theft of the rifle was a difficult case: all a cowboy does is justified if he must do it. This is fact. Though, he wonders, does this also apply to Indian Spies?