The Diamond Hitch. Frank O'Rourke

      He thought on ahead to the Las Vegas show. He was getting in great shape, not real hard yet, but working toward it. He began adding up the contestants who’d be at Las Vegas, all the top riders and bulldoggers, and for once he knew he would stand a good chance of pulling down first money. The McCarty string of bucking horses was scheduled for the show, and Dewey knew those horses, old Midnight and Overall Bill and Deertrail and all the rest. To go in there sober and hard, with no bruises or cracked ribs or other worries, was a chance he might never get again.

      “You asleep?” Squab asked.

      “Not yet,” Dewey said. “Just thinkin’.”

      “What about?”

      “Nothing much,” Dewey said. “Good night, Squab.”

      “‘Night, Dewey.”