I got up from bed and lifted my 30/30 carbine from the wall and listened again near the door of Rocinante—and I heard the steps come closer. Then Charley roared his warning and I opened the door and sprayed the road with light. It was a man in boots and a yellow oilskin. The light pinned him still. “What do you want?” I called. He must have been startled. It took him a moment to answer. “I want to go home. I live up the road.”
