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“I’ve thought enough to know you are going to have to tell me considerable more about this matter before I agree to do anything. I do, however, give you full permission to talk to Norris or Ben. I’ll agree to the money. It’s the rest of it I’ve got to know about. They may not be so picky.”
    â€œJusta, I done told you I don’t want Ben nor Norris to know about this.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    He looked kind of pained. Then he said softly, “Because . . . well, because there’s some parts to the business that might shame me in their eyes. And it could hurt them.”
    â€œBut not me, huh?”
    He said slowly, “Yes, the same for you. But you’re different, Justa. You’re tougher, stronger.” He looked over at me. “Understand, I ain’t anxious for you to know this neither. But I’m betwixt the devil and the deep blue sea. This matter has got to be handled an’ there ain’t no one else. I’d do it if I was able. Comes to it, I might try. Me an’ Tom Butterfield.”
    â€œWell, if you want to try it that way it’s fine with me.”
    He looked over at me.
    I said, “But if you want me to do it, especially under them damn silly conditions you set out yesterday, then you are going to have to tell me a hell of a lot more. Last thing I heard out of you was that you stole the money. That has been pretty steady on my mind, as it would yours if I’d told you such a thing. I have one hell of a hard time seeing Howard Williams stealing the sweat off a maverick calf, much less another man’s money. You are going to have to tell me the straight of that, Howard. If it shames you, well, then so be it.”
    He looked out across the pasturage for a long time, no doubt seeing the herds of cattle in the distance, the herds that had slowly been upgraded from the native, all-bone, horse-killing, man-killing, wild-as-hell Longhorns to the manageable beef cattle we’d crossbred from whiteface and Hereford strains. He must have been looking back a lot of years to how it was when he’d come to this very range some forty years ago. Finally he turned and looked at me. “Is that the way of it?”
    I nodded. “Yes. Unless you want to forget the whole matter. I’m sure as hell willing.”
    But he shook his head. “No, no, I can’t do that. I was pretty down yesterday and I will be again. And one of these days I ain’t going to come back up like I done today. I’m just gonna keep on going down until I’m six foot under. And I don’t want that dirt to hit me in the face with this misdeed on my conscience.”
    â€œAll right. I’m listening.”
    He squinted his eyes and looked far off again, like he was still going back, and not just in his mind. “Ya’ll never heard me speak much about Charlie Stevens, did you? About the early days, I mean.”
    â€œNever heard you speak about him at all. Mainly just about Buttercup. May have been one or two others you mentioned, but it seemed like it was just you and Buttercup got the start on the place.”
    â€œWell it was Tom Butterfield and me on the one start. But what I never told you boys was there was two starts made on this ranch. Tom helped me on the second one, but as a hired hand. Of course you know that’s why I keep him on around here as our cook. Even if he can’t cook. But he’s a proud man. Won’t take wages without doing a day’s work.”
    â€œWe ain’t talking about Buttercup, we’re talking about this here Charlie Stevens.” I could see he was reluctant to come to his subject and had gone off on a false lead. “You said something about there was two starts on this place.”
    He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Me an’ Charlie grew up together in Georgia. Course I guess you knew our family started out in Georgia.”
    â€œI knew you did, but this is