The Red Pony
Jody grabbed him fiercely by the forearm. "You're not going to shoot him?"
Billy patted his hand. "No. I'm going to open a little hole in his windpipe so he can breathe. His nose is filled up. When he gets well, we'll put a little brass button in the hole for him to breathe through."
Jody couldn't have gone away if he wanted to. It was awful to see the red hide cut, but infinitely more terrible to know it being cut and not see it. "I'll stay right here," he said bitterly. (1.164-1.166)
"I tell you you won't stay," Carl said angrily. "I don't need an old man. This isn't a big ranch. I can't afford food and doctor bills for an old man. You must have relatives and friends. Go to them. It's like begging to come to strangers."
"I was born here," Gitano said patiently and inflexibly.
Carl Tiflin didn't like to be cruel, but he felt he must. "You can eat here tonight," he said. "You can sleep in the little room in the bunkhouse. We'll give you your breakfast in the morning, and then you'll have to go along. Go to your friends. Don't come to die with strangers." (2.67-2.69)
Billy's face and arms and chest were dripping red. His body shivered and his teeth chattered. His voice was gone; he spoke in a throaty whisper. "There's your colt. I promised. And there it is. I had to do it—had to." (3.172)