Sage Bend came into sight and as Dan approached, he saw a plodding figure in the middle of the road moving in the same direction. The sight irritated Dan. Even when he got close enough to see the white cane tapping on ahead of the shuffling feet, he was still irritated. Why did Art Haney have to be like that? He was blind, sure, and everybody felt sorry for him, but he didn't have to rub it in your face. He could hear the jeep coming and could move over out of the way but no, he had to stay smack where he was until you pulled to a dead stop and honked. Then he would jump as though you'd just missed running him down and cower on the side of the road. Didn't want anybody to miss the fact that he was blind and helpless--as if they could! Dan stopped and honked and watched Art put on his pathetic little act and felt guilty because it didn't stir him. Maybe he was hardened, but what the hell? Every time you came down the road. There's a limit. Dan called, "Hi Art." The answering voice had a falsetto that sounded faked. "Oh, it's you, Dan. Blind man can't tell a thing like that." "Want a ride into town?" "No--no. I'll hobble along and make it myself. A blind man doesn't like to think he's dependent on everybody. Tries to do the best he can." "Okay. See you later." "Sure, but I won't see you, Dan. Could of once, but can't any more." * * * * * Dan Parker jammed down the gas pedal and the jeep rammed forward kicking up a cloud of dust that left Art Haney coughing. Dan immediately felt guilty. Mean trick, but he hadn't done it on purpose. Just thoughtless. He rolled the jeep into town and lifted a hand as he passed the jail. Cecil Bates, sheriff of the county, lifted one in return but his expression never changed. Sour--that was the word, Dan thought. Cecil felt himself wasted in a country sheriff's job. Fancied himself of big-town caliber, but all he did was park on a chair in front of the jail and think about it. Sour was the word all right. In fact, Dan thought, sour was the word for the whole damned town of Sage Bend. Come to think of it, there wasn't a happy person in the place. Except Biddy. Dan parked the jeep and went in the house and got a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator. He went on through and out into the backyard where Jane was taking down the last of the wash. Damn--it seemed women were always washing. Come home and everytime they were hanging clothes or taking them down.