Paid off

by Walt Coburn

Had tuh rustle in my youth an’ never had no raisin’;

Wasn’t never halter broke an’ I ain’t got much tuh lose;

Used tuh sleepin’ in a sack an’ livin’ in a slicker;

Church folks never branded me, I don’t know as they tried,

Wisht you’d say a prayer fer me and try tuh make a dicker

For the best they’ll give me when I cross the Big Divide.”

XII

At midnight Tad went outside to call Kipp for guard duty. He found the old officer sitting on a tarp-covered bed, smoking. “Herd’s a layin’ peaceful, Joe. I done found a jug uh licker and Slim and the yaller ’un has drunk theirselves tuh sleep. Black Jack’s the fust breed I ever run acrost that don’t tech t’rant’lar juice.”

Kipp Smiled absently and got to his feet. Tad was pulling off his boots already. The sheriff’s form was silhouetted against the lighted doorway for a moment, then the door closed.