Lorena got up on her hands and knees and vomited from fear. Fortunately the problem of direction was finally solved one afternoon when he ran into a little party of soldiers with a mule team. Then, for no reason, between one stride and the next, the Hell Bitch suddenly rolled out of her easy gait into a flying buck. Call thought it strange that two people on one trip would follow him off.
The old Mexican was coughing. Or a snake will bite him or a horse will fall on him, or he'll get hung, or one of his renegades will shoot him in the back. She might have aggravated him some, but she wouldn't have led him to this. He must have slept with the damn reins in his hand or he'd have never got to his horse.
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