The Stalkers by Luke Short

Author:Luke Short [Short, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

It was close to dark when Jud came back to the room. From the racket he made climbing the stairs, Tim guessed he was drunk.

Jud opened the room door and halted, a look of surprise coming into his flushed face. Tim had lighted the lamp against the dusk. He had moved the wash basin and pitcher to Jud's bed and, seated in one of the chairs, was using the washstand as a writing table. Several sheets of paper were scattered on his cot. The opened but untouched bottle of whiskey was on the table.

“What in hell's this?" Jud wanted to know.

Tim stood up. "I'll tell you after supper." He moved the papers on his cot into one pile, saying, "How about a drink out of my bottle this time?"

Jud came into the room. "Hell, yes. What else is there to do in this one-jackass dump?" he asked in a slurred voice.

Tim poured a stiff drink into one of the glasses. Supper would help kill its effects, but he wanted Jud just relaxed enough to be unwary after they ate. The triangle, calling all hands to supper, clanged as they finished their drinks.

A big supper sobered up Jud, so that, lighting a cigar up in the room, he was in a relaxed and lazy mood. Sitting on his bed with his back against the wall, he made himself a drink. Tim picked up the papers on his bed and handed them to Jud, saying,

''That's the layout of the car. Tell me how many men we'll have and I'll place them for you."

Jud studied the floor plans of an Adam's messenger railroad car Tim had drawn in minutest detail from memory.

Tim watched him study it before asking, "Ever opened one of those?"

Jud shook his head. "No, banks are easier. Have

Tim smiled and nodded, then moved over to his cot, sat on it, and put his back against the wall. "A half dozen or so. But you'll never believe the easiest."

"Tell me."

Tim took off his spectacles and wiped them with his neckerchief as he talked. "When I was a young'n, always broke, I found out how to get eatin' money: just hang around the depot. When a train came in or passed through, the agent always left his office to pick up a message or send it or hustle baggage. They mostly forgot to lock the door. I'd head for the cash drawer and help myself."

Jud nodded appreciatively. "No railroad where I growed up, though."

"Well, four-five years back I was broke again. I hung around the depot waitin' for a train to haze the agent out of his office. But that time I took more than money. I took some railroad stationery."

"What's that?"

"Oh, writin' paper, with the name of the railroad printed all across the top."

Jud frowned. "What would that get you?"

"That's the whole damn story. I wrote a letter on it. The letter said I was the new night superintendent of the division and to cooperate with me. When the train got goin' I went through to the express car.

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