Augustus makes his way to Miles City where his gangrene leg is amputated. He refuses to have his other leg removed and Call finds him just before he dies.

"You don't get the pint, Woodrow," Augustus said. "I've walked the earth in my pride all these years. If that's lost, then let the rest be lost with it. There's certain things my vanity won't abide." "That's all it is, too," Call said bitterly. "Your goddamn vanity." He had expected to find Gus wounded, but not to find him dying. The sight affected him so much that he felt weak, of a sudden. When the doctor left the room, he sat down in a chair and took off his hat. He looked at Gus for a long time, trying to think of some argument he might use, but Gus was Gus, and he knew no argument would be of any use. None ever had been. He could either fight him and take off the leg if he won, or else sit and watch him die. The doctor seemed convinced he would die now in any case, though doctors could be wrong in such matters. "Woodrow, I wish you'd relax," Augustus said. "You can't save me, and it would be a pity if we fought at this stage. I might kill you accidentally and them boys would sit out on the plains and freeze."

Photo: Miles City Preservation

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