Part 11 (1/2)
Ted's head whirled. He licked dry lips and looked at the two pans of biscuits Al had already prepared. Loring Blade turned away and in that instant when they were un.o.bserved, Al shook a warning head. Ted took another sack of biscuit mix from the cupboard while cold fear gnawed at him as a dog gnaws a bone. If there was some idea behind this madness, what could it possibly be? Al was preparing enough food for a dozen men.
Ted turned to his skillets full of sputtering pork chops while Al tested the boiling potatoes with a fork.
”Most done,” he commented. ”How you comin'?”
”Another five minutes.”
”Guess I can drain the spuds.”
He drained them into the sink, shook them, and added a generous hand full of salt and a bit of pepper. He shook the kettle of potatoes again to mix the seasoning thoroughly. Then he put them on the table and pushed the hot coffee pot to a warming burner. While Ted took their biggest platter from the cupboard and began forking pork chops onto it, Al slipped in to set four places at the table.
”Ready?”
”All ready.”
”Guess we can eat, then.”
Leaving the potatoes in their huge kettle, he carried it in and put it in the center of the table. Ted brought the platter of pork chops and returned to the kitchen for coffee. Al pa.s.sed him with two plates of biscuits.
”Chow.”
Jack Callahan, who had been so grim and unrelenting and now seemed to regret it, smiled.
”Whew! Are four of us going to eat that?”
”If we can.”
”I'll do my darndest.”
”You're s'posed to.”
”Doggonit, Al,” Callahan said plaintively, ”don't blame me for this. I have a job and I intend to do it!”
”I know.”
”There's nothing personal.”
”I know that, too.”
”Do you have to be so gloomy?”
”What'd you do if you was on your way to jail? Turn handsprings?”
Loring Blade grinned mirthlessly, speared two pork chops and added a generous helping of potatoes. He broke a hot biscuit and lathered it with b.u.t.ter. The game warden began to eat.
”Seen Damon and Pythias lately?” he asked companionably.
”Nope.”
Loring Blade looked down at his plate. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances they could have made easy conversation. But circ.u.mstances weren't ordinary; the shadow of one in trouble cast its pall over the other three. The game warden ate a pork chop and some of his potatoes. Then, unable to refrain from talking about that which loomed so largely, he burst out, ”Al, for pete's sake! If you have anything to say, say it! If you shot in self-defense, I, for one, will buy the story. There's a way out if you'll take it!”