Part 8 (2/2)
”Come outside. It's vile in there.”
Stone led his pony to the north side of the ”coop.”
Collie followed.
Away to the west he saw the hazy peaks. A lake of burning air pulsed above the flat, hot floor of the valley. Over there lay the hills and the shade and the road.... Somewhere beyond was Overland, his friend, penniless, hunted, hungry....
”She brung you?” queried the boy.
”Yes. I have seen Tenlow, the sheriff. He is willing to let you go at my request. What do you intend doing, now that you are free?”
”I don' know. Find Red, I guess.”
Walter Stone nodded. ”What then?”
”Oh, stick it out with Red. They'll be after him sure now. Red's my pal.”
”What has he done to get the police after him?”
”Nothin'. It's the bunch.”
”The bunch?”
”Uhuh. Them guys out on the Mojave. But say, are you workin' me to get next to Red and get him pinched again?”
”No. You don't have to answer me. This man Red is nothing to me, one way or the other. He took Miss Lacharme's pony, but she has overlooked that.
I thought, perhaps, you might care to explain your position. Perhaps you had rather not. You may go now if you wish.”
”Is that straight?”
”Yes.”
For several tense seconds the lad gazed at his questioner. Finally his gaze s.h.i.+fted to the hills. ”I guess you're straight,” he said presently.
”I guess she wouldn't have you for a relation if you wasn't straight.”
The elder man laughed. ”That's right--she wouldn't, young man.”
”How's the sheriff guy?” asked the boy.
”He's getting along well enough. What made you ask?”
”Oh, nothin'. I hate to see any guy get hurt.”
”I'm glad to hear you say that. I begin to think you are a bigger man than he is.”
”Me?” And Collie flushed, misunderstanding the other's drift. ”I guess you're kiddin'.”
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