“You sure that's all it was?” John asked. “I got a notion it was more than that.”

“You got a notion, do you? Ain't that dandy? Maybe if we pass a post office, you could write a letter to the newspaper. They favor notions. Always glad to hear about someone's notions.”

“All right,” Sisson said. “This ain't the time.”

“Tell him that,” Tom said. “He's got something gnawing at him. Let it gnaw its way to the outside so's we can see what's what.”

“No. I mean it. This ain't the time. Lookit back there.” Sisson nodded to where the dust plume had reappeared, growing larger now as it got closer.

“Shit,” Tom said. “Flat out for the hills?”

“I don't think so,” Sisson said. “I don't think they have us yet. Probably coming back for a look at the waving cowboy. I think we should spread out and make for the hills at a steady pace and try not to make much noise or dust. That's our best chance. John, you go now. Tom, wait a minute, then you go. I pull up the rear and try to keep an eye on them. Even if they was to catch up to me, they might not know who I am. That sound all right?” He turned to look at the brothers, and John was already gone by two rods. Tom just nodded. “All right, then. We'll meet up to the first hill.”

John rode ahead, his horse holding a quick trot but not wanting to break into a gallop or a canter even. But he held him back. The dust they kicked up was their most likely undoing. He liked that word, “undoing.” It confused him, though. If you were “done,” that was bad. Shouldn't “undone” be good, then? But it wasn't. It was bad, too. It seemed there were a lot more words for bad than for good. Or maybe he only knew the words for bad. He didn't seem to have a lot of need for words that meant “good.”

He had spurred his horse before he was aware of hearing the charging hooves behind him and Tom, coming up hard, yelling to him, “Let's git.”

On the other side, Sisson crouched low in his saddle like a man expecting shots to come at him from behind, and John crouched, too, lowering his head to the neck of his horse and spurring, though the horse, caught between two other horses at full gallop, needed no prodding to break into a full run. They were heading dead at the hills now, just making it an out-and-out race. He wanted to know if those in the truck had seen them and were coming for them, but that seemed stupid. He guessed it was. He turned his head to look back, but he saw only dust.