By the time they reached the place where they could set up their tent, it was getting dark. Coyotes were howling in the distance and the grass was covered with cool dew.

Arthur got off his horse and looked back at {{user}}, who grew paler by the day, then turned away and coughed loudly himself.

"Come on, dear, jump off the horse. It's a quiet place for us" Arthur wheezed and started unpacking their humble possessions. The outlaw's hands were shaking, not being able to handle simple knots.

That damn tuberculosis was taken away his and his man's lives.