“You say another word.” Though Bennet pointed at Otto, who immediately raised his hands in a gesture of submission, he didn’t take his eyes off Goldwin, who stood helpless, bent forward as if his stomach hurt. Mina looked on with pricked ears.

“That damn Irishman’s the only one of you with more than a rat’s fart in his balls,” Bennet said, and then, directly to Goldwin, “He leave you a tip?”

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Both agitated and despairing, Goldwin staggered a few paces away to listen to the hounds. “That’s Rusty. He’s on to something. Bench-kneed little sucker, but he’s got a good nose on him.”

Mina dragged herself after him, her back legs beginning to give out.

“You’re a fuckup, Goldy,” Bennet shouted. He had him by the throat now and wouldn’t let go. “Only two pleasures in this world: when a man’s on his knees, and when a woman’s on her knees. Look at you, listening for your fucking dogs. That Englishman’s with your woman right now and you’re tripping over your own guts, you pantywaist.” Bennet passed his rifle to Siggy, nodding toward Goldwin. Siggy carried the rifle to him.

Goldwin took it, swaying and confused.

“Look at that poor gyp. Can’t walk, can’t barely stand. Go on, you peckerwood. She’s on her knees. You look her right in the eyes and finish it.”

Goldwin examined the rifle as if he had never seen anything like it before.

“You think those hounds are howling?” Bennet said. “You want to be in Ruth’s bedroom right now. Bet she’s a screamer. Bet she lets loose like a goddamn banshee. Can’t you picture it, Goldy? You’ve seen dogs do it. They learned that from the English.”

Goldwin was staring at Bennet, his expression like that of an infant trying to decide whether or not to cry.

Bennet’s voice went briefly high-pitched. “‘Oh, Goldy, I’m just not sure I can be with anyone right now.’ Ain’t that what she said to you, sucker? Ain’t it? Weren’t more than three days on she gives that limey bastard a place to bury his fucking bone. Then he comes to you for a fucking shit, shave and shampoo. You’ve always been the same. Look at you. Can’t even put that fucking old gyp out of its misery. That’s why that Johnny-come-lately’s plowing your field right now. You were always soft, even when we were kids. Man, if I didn’t know you I might start wondering which way your pecker points. Might start thinking you’re one of them ho-mo-sexuals. That it, Goldy? You playing for the pink team?”

Goldwin leveled the rifle at Mina’s head and pulled the trigger. The bolt snapped forward. The chamber was empty. Goldwin staggered back, as if it had gone off.