Part 32 (1/2)

Beyond that, it was all blank.

Had I pa.s.sed out? Or had I gone on with my tale? For a while, my worries hurt more than my head, for I feared what I might've told about me and Sarah.

It didn't feel good at all, lying there, so I sat up. My boots were by my head, along with my belt and holster and both guns. I sure couldn't recall taking them off.

Over on the other side of them the gra.s.s was matted down with once-used stew. Had I done that?

I checked my clothes. If I'd lost my supper, at least I'd gotten none on me.

Oh, I felt a proper fool.

My mouth was so dry I could hardly swallow, so I got into the boots and went over to the stream. I drank till I couldn't hold any more, then washed up and sat on a rock and hung on to my head.

I had half a notion to wander off, for I sure didn't look forward to facing the boys.

I stayed there even after I heard their voices.

Finally, I worked up my nerve and went back to the camp.

McSween had the fire going. He looked at me and smiled. ”Glad to see you ain't dead, w.i.l.l.y.”

”I rather wish I were.”

”Know how it is.”

I appreciated McSween's kindness. Chase came along, and didn't make sport of me, either. Emmet and Snooker and Breakenridge, however, had themselves a fine time at my expense. I felt too sick to care much. From their comments, I gathered that my story hadn't progressed much beyond telling how I'd beached the yacht and gone along the sh.o.r.e looking for Whittle. I'd got a bit rowdy, at that point, and jumped to my feet and yelled, ”Show your face, you b.l.o.o.d.y cur! I'll put a slug where your nose use to be!” Then I'd pulled my Colt, dropped it, bent over to pick it up, and would've fallen into the fire except that Chase leaped and caught me.

In spite of my ill health and humiliation, I was mighty glad I'd pa.s.sed out and never had a chance to blather about me and Sarah.

Well, I survived all the jos.h.i.+ng the boys handed out. With some breakfast in me, I felt a spot less sick. But then it came time to mount up. I took my usual place behind McSween. We left the camp behind, and I commenced to experience the most frightful agony as the horse rocked and swayed under me.

By and by, I thought I might lose my breakfast. So McSween let me climb down and walk. Right away, I felt better. The way the horses ambled along, I had no trouble at all keeping up with them. My boots pinched, but not too bad. Every so often, I'd give my feet a rest and ride for a spell. Mostly with McSween, but also with Emmet and Snooker. I couldn't stay on any of their horses for long, though, without feeling woozy. Then I'd jump down and walk some more.

The day seemed to drag on forever.

Finally we stopped and made camp. By then, I wasn't feeling horrible any more, just sore and headachy. Emmet and Snooker tried to talk me into some shooting, but about the last thing I wanted was to hear gunfire. ”I'd rather not, really.”

”There'll be plenty of time for practice,” McSween said, ”when w.i.l.l.y ain't feeling so poorly.”

So they let me off the hook.

After supper, we sat around the fire and the boys pa.s.sed around a bottle of whiskey. When it came to me, I took one whiff and winced. The others drank, though.

They asked me to go on with my story. Actually, I would've preferred to hear about their adventures, but they insisted, so I went ahead.

I told about finding Whittle's skiff, hiking through the snow and sneaking into General Forrest's house. McSween, he'd been a trooper in the General's command, and asked a pa.s.sel of questions about him. I talked considerable about the General and Mable, but didn't say much about Sarah. Only that we got to be friends, and how, after the deaths of her grandparents, I'd stayed on as her servant until I read about Whittle in the newspaper and we headed west.

Not a word about our baths or dancing or any such thing.

Even though I mostly kept mum about Sarah, I took to missing her something awful. I tried not to let it show.

When it came time to tell about Briggs, I had to bend the truth considerable. Otherwise, they would've seen it was jealousy that got me into trouble. I let on that Briggs had been rude and ornery to Sarah, and pestered her till I had no choice but to deal with him. Finally, it came to getting myself tossed off the train.

”The next day, I climbed on back up the hill and followed the tracks. I thought Sarah might disembark, don't you know, once she discovered that I'd gone missing. Perhaps she would be waiting for me at the next station down the line. But then I met up with you chaps. I haven't a clue what to do next, actually, other than ride along with you.”

”We're pleased to have you, w.i.l.l.y,” Chase said.

”You've all been mighty good to me.”

”Seems to me,” McSween said, ”like you've got business elsewhere.”

”I do hope to find Sarah.”

”You don't wanta be showing your face around no railroad depots,” Chase said. ”Not for a spell, leastwise.”

”No, I should think not.”

”Not unless you're looking for a chance to use your Colts on something more lively than a stump,” Emmet said.

”You ain't likely to find her, anyhow, walking the rails,” McSween told me. ”By now, your Sarah's either turned around and headed for home, or gone on down the line figuring you might catch up to her at Tombstone.”

”Least if she hasn't been interfered with by that Briggs feller,” Chase added, which didn't make me feel any better.

”I reckon Tombstone is where I need to go. Even if Sarah's not there, it seems the best place to start my search for Whittle.”

”Well,” McSween said, ”you can't go nowhere till we get you a horse. Best thing's to stick with us till we get to Bailey's Corner. You can buy a good mount there and rig yourself up for the hunt.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

Dire Threats The next day, I got my horse.

I'd been taking turns riding double with some of the boys, and was mounted behind Emmet when he pointed and said, ”Over yonder.”

I leaned sideways and looked past him. Off to the right, at some distance, a pair of hors.e.m.e.n were headed in our general direction. These were the first strangers we'd come across since lighting out from the train.

Emmet reined in, and the rest of the boys caught up with us.

”Not enough of 'em to be a posse,” Breakenridge said.

”If we had a posse after us,” Chase said, ”it wouldn't likely be coming from the east.”

This talk of posses unsettled me some. n.o.body'd mentioned, until now, that we had any reason to worry about such things.

”Don't matter who they are,” McSween said. ”Thing is, there's only just the two of 'em.”

McSween took the lead, and we headed for the strangers. When we got within hailing distance, he waved his arm and called out, ”Howdy, boys!”