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and shot forward like a race car coming out of a pit stop, all four hooves squealing in the sand, all horns a-blaring. He pounded up that ramp at a run approaching the speed of sound and continued into the truck without slowing. He hit the truck’s front cattle railing, snapping it like a Tinkertoy, and smashed down through the cab of the truck. He came out through the front window, made scrap metal of the hood, and kept going at a dead run through the men and dogs that were scattering for cover. He roared out the yard gate and down the road, heading for the border, bellering and snorting his rage at the injustice he’d received. As everyone stood around in shock, Old John finally spoke the first words he’d said all day. He turned to Rastus and shook his head. “I think you pushed him just a little too far!” 22