Curlicues of typical Indian Territory wind whipped into Ned’s face, scattering particles of red clay like confetti. He took a tentative first step out onto the wire, remembering to keep his eyes on his destination only.

“Not so fast there, Neddy, my boy!” Hezekiah’s drawl rose above the murmuring congregation. “Now you ain’t got the calf yet? How you gonna repeat your act if you ain’t carryin’ a baby moo-cow?”

Ned took a step back and spun slowly around to the sight of one of Hez’s cronies leading the biggest calf he’d ever seen. “Thelma here’s just been waitin’ for you her entire life..” Hez crooned, followed by the crowd’s crowing laughter. Thelma just lifted her head and stared at Ned. It seemed to him she was trying to say “you got me into this, you better get us out.”

But even with his nerves shot to pieces, Ned had his pride and courage on the line. Two very powerful things. Shaking off the sloe gin swagger, he strolled over and with a humph, hoisted the giant calf onto his bony back.