'I need a job," said Jetty, looking Fitch straight in the eye. Fitch looked at his hands, worn and dirty but not shaking. 'You a trapper?" 'I was." 'Blackfoot scare you off?" 'It was my boat. It turned over crossing the Colorado." Fitch looked at his moccasins, made of deer elk. He'd stuffed pieces of sheepskin inside, and walked two hundred miles from the Colorado River to San Diego. He still stood tall,...