Two-Dollar Pistol by Brett Cogburn

Author:Brett Cogburn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2014-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Banks are an almost irresistible attraction for that element of our society which seeks unearned money.”—J. Edgar Hoover

Claude woke up shortly before nightfall, and Farmer Dan’s wife brought him a pitcher of water and several pieces of fried chicken. His head wasn’t hurting as bad as it had been, and he managed to sit on the edge of his bed with only a few hard twinges from his sore ribs. He was sore and stiff all over, and felt like he had been run over by a truck. Despite his aches and pains, he ate the whole platter and drank the pitcher dry while the old couple watched him silently.

“That was good,” he said sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” the woman said. “I wish I had some buttermilk for you, but we sold our milk cow.”

“That’d be spoiling me,” Claude said.

The plump woman rocked in her chair and chuckled.

“Can you walk?” Dan asked.

Claude kept one arm against his wounded side and braced the other hand on the edge of the mattress. Dan picked up his rifle, but Claude ignored him and stood gingerly to his feet. As long as he didn’t straighten all the way up or move quickly his ribs didn’t hurt too bad. His head swam a little, but got better the longer he stood there. He took a few tentative steps while Dan kept his gun on him.

“Don’t worry. I’m not up to running yet,” Claude said.

“I’ll watch you just the same. I’d say you’re a dangerous man, regardless of your youth.” Dan held the .22 one-handed, using his free hand to scratch behind the bib of his overalls. He then proceeded to scratch a couple of other places on his body.

Claude noticed that the woman was scratching too. “Ya’ll eat up with something?”

Dan pointed to a great red whelp on his elbow, and then pulled back his collar to show the scaly rash on his neck. “It’s the dust. Gives you the itch. We’ve tried just about every kind of salve on it, but rubbing down with axle grease before you go to bed and then a bath in the morning seems to work best. Folks around here’ve been wrapping their kids up in rags to go to school, covered up with just their little eyes showing like one of those Egyptian mummies you hear about. Teacher told me that all the grease on them has stained the finish on her desks and chairs.”

Claude realized he was scratching at his own leg while he paced tentatively across the room and back. “How come all this dirt is blowing around?”

“If you plow a field until it’s bare, and then it doesn’t rain, you’re going to have plenty of dust,” Dan said. “I reckon we’ve about plowed ourselves all the way down to Hades.”

The sound of car doors slamming drew all their attention.

“You can just keep on walking,” Dan said. “That’d be the sheriff and the ambulance that just pulled up to the house.”

“Dan, do we have to?” the woman asked.

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