The Hider by Loren D. Estleman

Author:Loren D. Estleman [Estleman, Loren D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Westerns, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780671832735
Google: OTahosgAsTwC
Amazon: B00H0OSI6W
Barnesnoble: B00H0OSI6W
Goodreads: 2953060
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1978-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“You think these are the right ones, Mr. Fowler?” Rick was talking to hide his nervousness. He kept missing the lock with the key.

“They fit the description we got in that telegram from Oakland yesterday,” the constable replied. He was standing back just far enough to catch Jack and me both with a double load of buckshot if either of us should make a wrong move. Of course, he would have gotten his deputy too, but I don’t think that would have made him hesitate to pull the trigger. “We was warned to look out for a kid, a injun, and a man with a big mule and a mangy little burro. If you see anybody else who answers to that, I sure hope you’ll tell me.” There was irony in his words, but his voice remained a flat drone.

“Where’s the Indian?” asked Rick.

“Likely they parted company somewheres. Anyway, we got part of them.”

Jack and I kept silent. The deputy finally succeeded in unlocking the cell door and we went in. It clanged shut behind us.

Fowler leaned his shotgun against the wall and slouched into the leather chair behind the desk. “Mighty obliging of you two to walk right into my office,” he said. “Makes my job a sight easier.”

“How long you figure to keep us here?” growled Jack.

“Long as I have to. The wire I got from that injun policeman said he’d be passing through in the next couple days. Reckon I can turn you over to him then.”

“That’s George Crook!” I whispered to Jack.

“Reckon so,” he replied, taking off his hat and tossing it onto the narrow iron cot in the darkness at the back of the cell. There was no window in the chamber. The walls were covered with condensed moisture, and things crawled sluggishly between the ancient stones. “It appears he’s got more brains than I give him credit for. He must of rode straight to Oakland after crossing the river and sent that wire.”

“Shut up in there!” snapped the constable. Then, to his deputy: “Rick, get these gents’ animals from the emporium and take them over to the livery stable. Tell Haney he’ll be paid out of the town treasury. And tell Otis Ledbetter to get his tail over here on the double. You’ll find him in front of the undertaker’s parlor. Then go home to your daddy.”

Rick said, “Yes, sir,” and went out the front door.

“What are we going to do?” I asked Jack. It was dark in the cell, and I could barely make out his outline against the feeble yellow glow of the lamp on the constable’s desk fifteen feet away.

“Not a whole lot we can do, except wait,” he said. He picked up his hat and stretched out full length on the cot, placing the hat over his eyes. “Meantime, this here’s the closest thing I’ve had to a real bed in near ten years.” With that, he lapsed into silence.

I couldn’t see how he could be so calm under the circumstances, but I knew he was right.

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