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Show Flying - 199 the nigger did it. Ever since, I have been at the head of the Captain's shit-list. And, but for the love of one California whore, I would have suffered. Only Sutter's woman could have saved me. The remnant of Tucson John's wilder days kept ne out of the stockade. But who will save me fron my true guilt? Who will tell Tex to stop haunting ne? Suddenly afraid, John Henry looks over his shoulder, but in the twilight of the tent only ordinary soldiers are to be seen, polishing, folding, oiling, cleaning, making ready for the coning of the General. Held up at various angles by an adniring John Henry the boot reflects the light of the tent's only bulb. The glazed toe throws gleans of yellow everywhere, brighter than the last of the dying day outside, shiny as a new horsechestnut just out of its pod. "Hey, John, if you can shine boots that good, you maybe ought to re-up," says O'Connell. "Man with a talent like that shouldn't waste it on the outside," says Thompson. "Whyn't you all take six and go air-borne?" says Arkwright, looking up fron polishing his mess-kit. "Whyn't you all take a flying fuck for yourselves," says John Henry without anger, putting the polished boot carefully under the cot. |