Part 18 (1/2)

It was on the left side of the house, where I hadn't seen it till now. It was plenty big. We hauled at the double doors. When they came open, they shoved swaths across the snow.

I looked in.

All of a sudden, I remembered the pistol the General'd given to me last night. It was still on the table by my bed. I felt a proper fool for leaving it there.

The stable wasn't exactly dark inside, but it wasn't bright by a long shot.

Sarah started through the doorway, but I grabbed her arm. She frowned at me-not like she was angry, only curious. ”What is it?” she asked.

”I shouldn't like to think that Whittle might be hiding in there.”

”He'd be silly, don't you think, to spend the night in a cold stable with a house so handy?”

How could I argue with that?

Still, though, I felt right jittery and kept my eyes sharp as we went inside.

I let go of her arm. She took hold of mine, though. Spite of what she'd said, she must've been worried.

We stopped before going in too deep, and looked around.

The place smelled like hay, mostly, but had a few other aromas that weren't so sweet. Near the front were a couple of carriages, one fancier than the other, and a sleigh that had two rows of seats. The walls of the place were all hung with tools and tack.

We walked in farther, to where the horses were. There were stalls to hold four of them, but the gate of the last stall stood open.

Sarah pulled up short and let out a quiet gasp. ”My Lord,” she said. She didn't release my arm, but dragged me along beside her. We hurried past the first three stalls. The horses, seeing us, snorted and snuffled. White plumes blew out of their nostrils.

The fourth stall was empty.

Sarah gazed into it, breathing hard, puffing out clouds of white. ”He's taken Saber,” she murmured. ”Wait here. I've got to tell Grandpa.”

She let go my arm and rushed off.

I wasn't keen on being left alone, but she was hardly out the doors before it came to me I needn't worry about getting jumped by Whittle. He'd come along last night, after all. It had been a mighty narrow call for the General and the women, for he must've been tempted to take over the house. He'd chosen, instead, to pinch a horse and light out.

It spooked me some, knowing he'd been here. But he was likely miles and miles away, by now. Any chap who would filch a horse on a snowy night, when he had a chance to hole up in a nice warm house, aimed to do some hard traveling.

In a way, it was good to know we were safe from him. It troubled me, though, that he'd gotten away. I had half a mind to grab a horse and chase after him.

More than half a mind, really.

It was what I ought to do.

But with such a headstart, and any direction to choose from except toward the water, he'd be near impossible to run down. Besides, there I would be in a strange land in the dead of winter, no money, no clothes but the borrowed ones on my back. And the folks here, they'd been awfully good to me. Making off with one of their horses would be a dirty play, and give Mable reason to bully the General and Sarah.

If all that weren't enough cause to hold me off, there was knowing that I'd miss out on my chance to cable Mother. She deserved to know, straight away, I wasn't dead after all.

So I gave up the notion of chasing after Whittle.

It seemed I was letting down everybody he'd killed, especially poor Trudy, but I judged I owed more to the living. The dead weren't likely to appreciate my efforts, anyhow.

Well, that led me to thinking about those Whittle hadn't killed yet yet-the ones he'd be butchering down the road a piece unless I stopped him.

They complicated things considerable, and I commenced to figure maybe I'd better take a horse, after all. By then, however, it was too late.

Sarah came striding along, frowning. She didn't have the General with her.

”Best not to tell him,” she said. ”If he finds out Saber's been stolen, he'll saddle up and ride off, and he won't come back empty-handed. He's too old for such shenanigans, but that's exactly what he'd do.”

We could go together! I thought. I thought.

Before I got my mouth open to suggest it, Sarah said, ”The way his health is, I doubt we'd ever see him again. But would that stop him? No, I hardly think so. Why, he would rather die and leave Grandma a widow than allow a horsethief to get away from him.”

”He's certain to learn the horse has gone missing,” I pointed out.

”We'll leave the stable door open. Saber always did have a feisty nature. He's run off before. I'll simply explain that he was here when we set out for town. That won't throw Grandpa into such a tizzy as if he takes a notion that Saber's been stolen.”

Sarah wasn't just pretty, but had a sharp mind to boot. It bothered me that she was given to such trickery, but the way she had it figured, she was deceiving the General for his own good.

I told her the plan was quite clever.

She opened the gate of a stall that had a huge gelding inside named Howitzer. The name was embroidered in gold on his blue blanket. After pulling the blanket off him, Sarah walked him toward the front of the stable. There, I helped harness him to the sleigh.

Outside, snow was drifting down.

”Perfect,” Sarah said. ”It'll cover Saber's tracks.”

Well, Saber had no tracks that needed covering, as he was long gone. What Sarah meant was that the snow might hide the tracks Saber would've would've made, if he'd been here this morning and wandered off. made, if he'd been here this morning and wandered off.

We stuck to her plot, and left the stable doors open.

Then we both climbed into the sleigh. Sarah sat down close against me and spread a blanket across our laps. Then she picked up the reins, gave them a shake, called out, ”Geeyup,” and off we went.

Sarah steered us away from the house. We glided past trees and a fountain with no water in it but that had a statue of Bacchus, who was sticking a grape in his mouth and wore nothing except for snow heaped here and there, and looked to be freezing.

We stopped at the wall's front gate. It was shut. Whittle must've taken time to dismount and close it after him, so folks wouldn't catch on he'd been here.

”I'll see to it,” I said as Sarah reined in.

”Leave it open a bit for Saber,” she told me, still keeping her mind on our ruse.

I hopped into the snow, swung the gate wide, and waited while Sarah ”gee-yupped” Howitzer then ”whoaed” him once they'd gotten to the other side. I left the gate standing open some, rushed ahead and climbed into the sleigh. It felt good to have the blanket on my legs again.

After we took a turn to the right, Sarah clucked a few times and Howitzer commenced to trot along at a smart pace. We fairly flew over the snow, the wind and flakes in our faces.

”Would you care to take the reins?” she asked.