-- as ada walks, the wind kicking up around her, past the swanger place. she's bent and curiously dressed in her father's coat.
ruby and ada at the door of the swanger house. they both wear monroe's clothes by now, like two little men. they're carrying a small sack, a pie under a cloth. ruby hammers at the door, a little impatient. sally swanger opens it, has to decode who it is under the clothes, the hats.
sally is pinning out white sheets, they're filling out like sails in the afternoon wind. ruby rides up. sally seems a little vexed to see her. she walks down to the gate.
teague's men ride up to the farm. esco's out in the field, labouring away, but with his shotgun by him. teague stops alongside the field, the rail between him and esco. esco stops working, picks up his shotgun and goes over. teague has four men with him. mo and jo, the twins, huge, and with the appearance of having less than one brain between the two of them, grayling, a reluctant-looking man, funereal in his bearing, and bosie.
mo dismounts. ambles past esco, looks behind the sheets. esco kicks out at him, the shotgun rigid and pointing.
jo sets on esco, knocking him-backwards into a sheet, where it gets twisted, while jo kicks and punches, little spots of blood staining the sheet with each blow. mo pulls out his sabre and runs esco through, leaves the sabre in deep, pinning esco to the sheet, then spinning him round in the sheet so that it tightens. a stain grows out from the blade, huge and spreading. teague walks to esco.
bosie is doing some sort of dance along the fence rail. he's very graceful, his hair flying, his hands out, one finger nail extremely long, his boots stamping down on the fence.