， Acknowledgments 。＿生 the author would like to express his appreciation to the santa fe institute for his long association and his four…year residence。 he would also like to thank amanda urban。 。。 No Country for Old MenI 小说 i sent one boy to the gaschamber at huntsville。 one and only one。 my arrest and my testimony。 i went up there and visited with him two or three times。 three times。 the last time was the day of his execution。 i didnt have to go but i did。 i sure didnt want to。 hed killed a fourteen year old girl and i can tell you right now i never did have no great desire to visit with him let alone go to his execution but i done it。 the papers said it was a crime of passion and he told me there wasnt no passion to it。 hed been datin this girl； young as she was。 he was nineteen。 and he told me that he had been plannin to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember。 said that if they turned him out hed do it again。 said he knew he was goin to hell。 told it to me out of his own mouth。 i dont know what to make of that。 i surely dont。 i thought id never seen a person like that and it got me to wonderin if maybe he was some new kind。 i watched them strap him into the seat and shut the door。 he might of looked a bit nervous about it but that was about all。 i really believe that he knew he was goin to be in hell in fifteen minutes。 i believe that。 and ive thought about that a lot。 he was not hard to talk to。 called me sheriff。 but i didnt know what to say to him。 what do you say to a man that by his own admission has no soul？ why would you say anything？ ive thought about it a good deal。 but he wasnt nothin pared to what was in down the pike。 they say the eyes are the windows to the soul。 i dont know what them eyes was the windows to and i guess id as soon not know。 but there is another view of the world out there and other eyes to see it and thats where this is goin。 it has done brought me to a place in my life i would not of thought id of e to。 somewhere out there is a true and living prophet of destruction and i dont want to confront him。 i know hes real。 i have seen his work。 i walked in front of those eyes once。 i wont do it again。 i wont push my chips forward and stand up and go out to meet him。 it aint just bein older。 i wish that it was。 i cant say that its even what you are willin to do。 because i always knew that you had to be willin to die to even do this job。 that was always true。 not to sound glorious about it or nothin but you do。 if you aint theyll know it。 theyll see it in a heartbeat。 i think it is more like what you are willin to bee。 and i think a man would have to put his soul at hazard。 and i wont do that。 i think now that maybe i never would。 the deputy left chigurh standing in the corner of the office with his hands cuffed behind him while he sat in the swivelchair and took off his hat and put his feet up and called lamar on the mobile。 just walked in the door。 sheriff he had some sort of thing on him like one of them oxygen tanks for emphysema or whatever。 then he had a hose that run down the inside of his sleeve and went to one of them stunguns like they use at the slaughterhouse。 yessir。 well thats what it looks like。 you can see it when you get in。 yessir。 i got it covered。 yessir。 when he stood up out of the chair he swung the keys off his belt and opened the locked desk drawer to get the keys to the jail。 he was slightly bent over when chigurh squatted and scooted his manacled hands beneath him to the back of his knees。 in the same motion he sat and rocked backward and passed the chain under his feet and then stood instantly and effortlessly。 if it looked like a thing hed practiced many times it was。 he dropped his cuffed hands over the deputys head and leaped into the air and slammed both knees against the back of the deputys neck and hauled back on the chain。 they went to the floor。 the deputy was trying to get his hands inside the chain but he could not。 chigurh lay there pulling back on the bracelets with his knees between his arms and his face averted。 the deputy was flailing wildly and hed begun to walk sideways over the floor in a circle； kicking over the wastebasket； kicking the chair across the room。 he kicked shut the door and he wrapped the throwrug in a wad about them。 he was gurgling and bleeding from the mouth。 he was strangling on his own blood。 chigurh only hauled the harder。 the nickelplated cuffs bit to the bone。 the deputys right carotid artery burst and a jet of blood shot across the room and hit the wall and ran down it。 the deputys legs slowed and then stopped。 he lay jerking。 then he stopped moving altogether。 chigurh lay breathing quietly； holding him。 when he got up he took the keys from the deputys belt and released himself and put the deputys revolver in the waistband of his trousers and went into the bathroom。 he ran cold water over his wrists until they stopped bleeding and he tore strips from a handtowel with his teeth and wrapped his wrists and went back into the office。 he sat on the desk and fastened the toweling with tape from a dispenser； studying the dead man gaping up from the floor。 when he was done he got the deputys wallet out of his pocket and took the money and put it in the pocket of his shirt and dropped the wallet to the floor。 then he picked up his air…tank and the stungun and walked out the door and got into the deputys car and started the engine and backed around and pulled out and headed up the road。 on the interstate he picked out a late model ford sedan with a single driver and turned on the lights and hit the siren briefly。 the car pulled onto the shoulder。 chigurh pulled in behind him and shut off the engine and slung the tank across his shoulder and stepped out。 the man was watching him in the rearview mirror as he walked up。 whats the problem； officer？ he said。 sir would you mind stepping out of the vehicle？ the man opened the door and stepped out。 whats this about？ he said。 would you step away from the vehicle please。 the man stepped away from the vehicle。 chigurh could see the doubt e into his eyes at t