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Chapter 21

           "Youliebesidethegunandholdthelegsstill,"hesaid.

           Thethreeofthemwentupthetrailthroughthewoodsatarun.

           ThesunhadnotyetcomeupoverthetopsofthemountainsandRobertJordanstoodstraightbuttoninghistrousersandtighteninghisbelt,thebigpistolhangingfromthelanyardonhiswrist.Heputthepistolinitsholsteronhisbeltandslippedtheknotdownonthelanyardandpassedtheloopoverhishead.

           Somebodywillchokeyouwiththatsometime,hethought.Well,thishasdoneit.Hetookthepistoloutoftheholster,removedtheclip,insertedoneofthecartridgesfromtherowalongsideoftheholsterandshovedtheclipbackintothebuttofthepistol.

           HelookedthroughthetreestowherePrimitivo,holdingthereinsofthehorse,wastwistingtherider’sfootoutofthestirrup.ThebodylayfacedowninthesnowandashewatchedPrimitivowasgoingthroughthepockets.

           "Comeon,"hecalled."Bringthehorse."

           Asheknelttoputonhisrope-soledshoes,RobertJordancouldfeelMariaagainsthisknees,dressingherselfundertherobe.Shehadnoplaceinhislifenow.

           Thatcavalrymandidnotexpectanything,hewasthinking.Hewasnotfollowinghorsetracksandhewasnotevenproperlyalert,letalonealarmed.Hewasnotevenfollowingthetracksuptothepost.Hemusthavebeenoneofapatrolscatteredoutinthesehills.Butwhenthepatrolmisseshimtheywillfollowhistrackshere.Unlessthesnowmeltsfirst,hethought.Unlesssomethinghappenstothepatrol.

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