Jake Spoon, who was delicate and prone to vomits at the sight of dead people, couldn’t tolerate the woman’s shrieks. He plugged his ears with some cotton ticking he kept in his saddlebags for just such a purpose. Then he loped ahead, so he wouldn’t have to see the blood from the woman’s torn wrists dripping off her horse’s shoulders. “What’s wrong with that boy?” Goodnight asked, when he saw the tufts of cotton sticking out of Jake Spoon’s ears. “Why, I don’t know, Charlie,” Augustus said. “Maybe he’s just tired of listening to all this idle conversation.”
