'
"Two weeks afterward, when I was beginning to get around again, the
doctor laughed and said he was sure that my friend's keeping me mad all
the time did more than his drugs to cure me.
"So that's the way George and me was friends. There wasn't any sentiment
about it--it was just give and take, and each of us knew that the other
was ready for the call at any time.
"I remember, once, I played a sort of joke on George, just to try him.
I felt a little mean about it afterward, because I never ought to have
doubted he'd do it.
"We was both living in a little town in the San Luis valley, running
some flocks of sheep and a few cattle. We were partners, but, as usual,
we didn't live together. I had an old aunt, out from the East, visiting
for the summer, so I rented a little cottage. She soon had a couple of
cows and some pigs and chickens to make the place look like home. George
lived alone in a little cabin half a mile out of town.
"One day a calf that we had, died. That night I broke its bones, dumped
it into a coarse sack and tied it up with wire.
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