 Fuchs told me everything I wanted to know, how he had lost his ear in a Wyoming blizzard when he was a stage driver, and how to throw a lasso. He promised to rope a steer for me before sundown the next day. He got out his chaps and silver spurs that showed them to Jake and me, and his best cowboy boots, with top stitched in bold design, roses and true lover's knots, and undraped female figures. These, he solemnly explained, were angels."