But Carlson was standing over George. “How’d you do it?” he asked. “I just done it,” George said tiredly. “Did he have my gun?” “Yeah. He had your gun.” “An’ you got it away from him and you took it an’ you killed him?” “Yeah. Tha’s how.” George’s voice was almost a whisper. He looked steadily at his right hand that had held the gun. Slim twitched George’s elbow. “Come on, George. Me an’ you’ll go in an’ get a drink.” George let himself be helped to his feet. “Yeah, a drink.” Slim said, “You hadda, George. I swear you hadda. Come on with me.” He led George into the entrance of the trail and up
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