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Chapter 43

           "Wherethoupluggeditinthedirtwiththefall."

           "Whatbecameofthepack-horse?"

           "Thegypsycaughtit."

           Agustínwasonthehorsenowbuthedidnotwanttogo.HeleanedfarovertowardthetreewhereRobertJordanlay.

           "Goon,viejo,"RobertJordansaidtohim."Inwartherearemanythingslikethis."

           "Quéputaeslaguerra,"Agustínsaid."Warisabitchery."

           "Yes,man,yes.Butgetonwiththee."

           "Salud,Inglés,"Agustínsaid,clenchinghisrightfist.

           "Salud,"RobertJordansaid."Butgetalong,man."

           Agustínwheeledhishorseandbroughthisrightfistdownasthoughhecursedagainwiththemotionofitandrodeupthedraw.Alltheothershadbeenoutofsightlongbefore.Helookedbackwherethedrawturnedinthetimberandwavedhisfist.RobertJordanwavedandthenAgustín,too,wasoutofsight....RobertJordanlookeddownthegreenslopeofthehillsidetotheroadandthebridge.I’maswellthiswayasany,hethought.Itwouldn’tbeworthriskinggettingoveronmybellyyet,notascloseasthatthingwastothesurface,andIcanseebetterthisway.

           Hefeltemptyanddrainedandexhaustedfromallofitandfromthemgoingandhismouthtastedofbile.Now,finallyandatlast,therewasnoproblem.howeverallofithadbeenandhoweverallofitwouldeverbenow,forhim,nolongerwasthereanyproblem.

           Theywereallgonenowandhewasalonewithhisbackagainstatree.

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