"Aw, hush up, Beau. You ain't no judge no more!" The fat man turned away, disgustedly shaking his head. "Let's just git back to town. I think a Northern's blowin' in."
"'Course it's a Northern. It's been comin' on for days."
Mr. Bonner, silent until now, croaked, "It'll get cold tonight, for sure. Too cold to survive in the open."
"What're you sayin', man? You sayin' we gotta stay here tonight? With those two?" Eldon made a mask of his face and nodded toward Clarence and the cowboy, where they hung from the oak limb. "We ain't gonna do that, are we, Beau?"
"I don't know," hedged their leader, ending his solemn prayers with a steaming amen. His eyes scurried across the heavens, his nose tested and his tongue tasted the wind. It had a flavor of iron, of cold, frosted iron. "I think maybe Bonner's right on this account. We'd be hip deep in drifts long before we ever got back to Edmund town."