Thomas Moore declared as he held out his hand to the tall Irishman before him. They shook. “Was hoping you would,” Seamus replied to the man who had been in charge of George Crook’s mule trains since the days of the first Apache campaigns down in Arizona. “Hell yes, Donegan! You was all Cap’n Mills and Teddy Egan talked about for some time after we jined back up with you fellas couple days following your fight on the Powder.” Seamus had begun to feel a bit sheepish, standing there as some of the other packers wandered up, drawn to the conversation between the long-maned plainsman and their grizzled boss. “If that don’t beat all!” Donegan turned at the exclamation, finding the gray head of Richard Closter shoving his way through the ring of packers. “Uncle Dick!” Seamus called out, lapping his arms around the old mule skinner, clapping him on the back with the hand not clutching the Henry repeater the Irishman had carried ever since his first ride onto the plains of the far west.* Then he held the old man out at arm’s length, admiring the packer’s face well-chiseled by wind and tracked with all the miles he had followed the cantankerous animals that were his life.
What do You think about Reap The Whirlwind (2010)?
