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Started reading
March 14, 2023
Instead, he bathed once a month in a deep hole in the creek known only to George and to him and, once, one other.
Phil might tell an anecdote of Bronco Henry, that best of riders, that best of cowboys, who had taught Phil the art of braiding rawhide.
One reason he hated booze, he was afraid of it, afraid of what he might tell.

