Part 33 (2/2)
Q^nys^Q It was almost dusk. Winn sat on the bench outside the bunkhouse whittling.
The small piece of pine that he stroked so carefully with his knife would bea toy for Greg. He had decided to try something simple, a ball on a stringwith a cup to catch it in. He was working on the handle; it couldn't getmore simple than that. Louie had found the wood for him.
Louie. Louie still hadn't stirred.
He sighed. His attention wasn't on the wood at all. He couldn't helpturning toward the house, listening for sounds, wis.h.i.+ng he could see what wasgoing on.
The sheriff had talked with him. Winn told him about the branding irons aswell as everything he had heard from both Ott and Louie. The sheriff had listened but hadn't seemed too eager to act. Winn had to admit that a blind man wouldn't make the best witness.
A young woman named Mary had followed the doctor out from town. She had heard that someone else at the Franklin place had been shot and hurried out,afraid it might be Jeremiah Betts. She stayed and gave Peter furtherinstructions for Louie's care, visited with Cynthie and cooked the eveningmeal. Winn sat outside and whittled.
Cynthie hadn't wanted to talk to him. Or listen to him. He had questionedthe wisdom of bringing Jeremiah in from the herd but she had replied that theherd didn't matter now.
He touched the rough surface of the wood. It was getting smoother. It was too thick yet anyway. He tried to concentrate on the wood and forgeteverything else, but he couldn't.
Dempsey was in the house with Cynthie. He had come in the late afternoon and had been there for an hour, maybe more. Winn didn't think he was a goodjudge of time in a case like this.
He felt a presence at his side and heard Peter say, ”Hi.”
”Hi, yourself,” he said, stilling the knife.
”You're as quiet as an Indian.”
Peter sat down beside him and asked, ”Dempsey did it, didn't he?”
The question didn't surprise Winn as much as it might have. The boy wasn'tknown for small talk.
”I can't prove it, son,” he said, ”but that's my guess.”
Peter was quiet and Winn resumed his whittling. After several minutes, Petersaid, ”Saw Franklin pay Dempsey once. Dempsey said, ” If you make this toodifficult, I may decide there are things I want more than your money. ”” Blackmail? Winn had never heard Peter put that many words together at onetime. It made him all the more certain the boy was quoting exactly.
”Did you tell anyone about it?”
”Didn't suppose n.o.body'd listen.”
Winn thought Louie would have but he kept it to himself. Saying so would only hurt the boy.
Peter spoke again.
”What you reckon he wanted more than Mr. Franklin's money?”
His ranch and his wife, was Winn's best guess. ”Whatever it was, do you
think Dempsey killed Franklin to get it?”
”Always wondered,” Peter said.
Winn wasn't sure it was the time to ask, but he had to know.
”Peter, how did your father die?”
Peter was silent for a long time.
”Don't know,” he said finally.
”Wasn't home.”
”But you have an idea,” Winn prompted.
”Pa said Franklin wanted to run us off our land. Franklin always sent
Dempsey.”Winn thought about it for a moment and shook his head.”None of this is proof, Peter.””Not yet.” Winn felt, more than heard, the boy leave.Cynthie had been glad for Mary's help. She bustled around the kitchen fixing their supper and baking m.u.f.fins ahead for the next morning.
Cynthie had told her she would understand if Jeremiah wanted to quit.
The job was getting dangerous.
”That'll have to be Jeremiah's decision. I know he's always been proud to
work for you,” Mary had said.
”We would like a place of our own sometime, but I don't know when we'll manage that.”
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