The Rebels by Elmer Kelton

Author:Elmer Kelton [Kelton, Elmer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7653-4899-9
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 1990-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

XV

JAMES WAS reluctant to leave Shipman, but his partner was adamant, even angry when James seemed to try to stall the mission. Following Shipman’s directions, he found the farm where the mules had been left, rewarded the farmer with a jug of good Kentucky squeezings and then proceeded to peddle most of the assorted goods out around the area for a small but welcome profit. Though the Mexican soldiers had prevented him from working his farm, he had not been idle. He had a little money deposited with Baptiste Villaret in Natchitoches, probably more than he could have hoped to make out of one year’s crops in Austin’s colony. Nevertheless, it scratched in his craw that they had robbed him of that chance. It was the end of June now and much too late to start a crop even if he were to return to the farm.

Memories of his aborted attempt to settle on the Colorado set him to thinking. From here it was not really very far. On horseback, he could make it in maybe three days without pressing Walker too much, four or five if he took it slow for Shipman’s sake. It was considerably farther back to Louisiana, and there would be no one to see after Shipman at their cabin except James. For help he would have to carry the wounded man all the way to Natchitoches. A trip of that length could kill him. Among the Lewis family, Shipman would receive the care he needed.

He didn’t know what Annie’s reaction might be. She had seemed to have mixed feelings about Shipman the last time, but James never had paid much attention to what Annie said.

By the time he returned to the farm where Shipman lay recuperating, James had made up his mind. As soon as his partner appeared fit to ride, they would go to the Colorado. He had to circle around San Felipe, of course. That Mexican officer had a long memory, from what Annie’s letters had said. And James might have to sleep in the woods instead of in one of the Lewis cabins, but that was all right. He had been spending more nights under the stars than under a roof anyway. At this time of year it was no hardship.

He found a visitor at the farm, the one-eyed minister. Round of belly and gray of hair, the man came out to the horse pen to greet James as he rode in, leading the string of mules. “Well, young gentleman,” he said pleasantly, “your packs appear to be about empty. Commerce must be thriving.”

James doubted the minister would approve if he knew that some of those trade goods were whiskey.

“I done all right,” James admitted. “How’s Sly?”

“Mr. Shipman is doing quite well, praise the Lord, considering how near he came to confronting his Maker and accounting for all his past transgressions.”

James frowned. “What do you know about his transgressions?” He wondered if Shipman had been talking too much. A man in their profession could not afford to be overly free with conversation, at least about their business.

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