"You were, honey."
"I was trying to get one more. Just one. The propane company said they wouldn't fill the tank again until we paid the whole back bill, and it was four hundred and something, and I thought one calf—" He stopped. "I don't know what I thought. I already did it once. I thought it'd be easier the second time."
"Who did you sell them to," Wade said. "The six."
"A man in the parking lot at the Roundup sale barn. I don't know his whole name. Curt. He's got a backgrounding lot down toward Musselshell. He pays cash for slicks and doesn't ask." The boy swallowed. "Six hundred and fifty a head. I know they were worth more."
"They were worth twice that."
"I know."
"What'd you do with the money?"