She cocked her head and listened intently. "John, I hear voices. Not like them on the farm, though. Maybe it's the Indians. Listen!" She held up a hand, warning him.
There was the rustle of the grass, the plaintive note of a mourning dove. "I don't hear nothing," he said. He pulled at his mustache.
"You woudn't 'fess up to it if you did," she said. She giggled. “I want to have a seance, John. 'Member how they called me Professor Kate in the Parsons paper that time I lectured there on spiritualism?" She rose to her feet and faced him. "Maybe a seance would quiet the voices. On the farm it used to. Professor Kate wants to have a seance."
He slapped her. His hand left a red mark on her face, but she made no sign of having felt it. "Stop it, Kate. You want to drive all of us crazy? Why stir them up? And anyhow, it ain’t nothing. We'll sleep in the wagon tonight and tomorrow start early. It's only two Indians. Ain't you used to dead people?"
He took her by the hand and led her back to the wagon. Sighing, she stumbled after him. "Do you think we'll get to Vinita tomorrow, John?" she asked. "I’m so tired of riding. Father said we could leave the wagon and take the train once we got to the Indian Territory."
"Sure thing, you bet," he answered, without looking at her. "Get up early, ride all day. It ain’t far."
John woke early, while it was still dark. He found water and washed in a cupful of it. After a moment he heard Kate getting down from the wagon. She came up to him, yawning and shivering.
He poured water for her and she scrubbed her face with a handkerchief. She straightened her hair with her hands. "How did you sleep, John?” she asked, putting her head on one side. "Did you rest well?"
"Naw. Why ask? I had dreams."
"Like my dreams, I guess. This ain't a good place. Listen, paw and maw are getting up."
They breakfasted on slabs of bread and cold pork. Old man Bender harnessed up the team and turned the wagon around. "We make a fine quick start," he said. "De stars ain't set yet. Before sun-up, we be back on the right road."
THE pursuers rose nearly as early as the Benders did. The Benders were moved by fear, the posse by hate. As Captain Sanders swung into the saddle, he said to the lieutenant, "Today or tomorrow, sure. We're getting close."
The lieutenant (he, like Sanders, had gained his rank in the Grand Army of the Republic less than ten years before) said flatly, "We're not going to take them back to the county for trial."
Weird and Fantasy Books
Am selling out my entire library of Weird and Fantasy literature. Many hard-to-find and Collectors' Items. Send me your "wants"—I may have them. Or send for partial list.
J. E. JOHNS, P. O. Box 6444. Cleveland. O.
