Online Book Reader

Home Category

Reivers, The - William Faulkner [4]

By Root 4332 0
the wagon and team, Father would never know it, and if John waited for Ludus (or any other Negro in the stable or Jefferson either) to tell Father about that pistol, Father would never know that either. So Ludus probably said nothing at all, and John only said, "All right. But if them mules aint back in their stalls, without one sweat or whip mark on them and not even looking sleepy, a good solid hour before Mr Ballott gets here tomorrow morning" (you will have already noticed how both of them had completely dismissed Boon from the affair: neither Ludus to say, "Mr Boon knows these mules wont be in tonight; aint he the boss until Mr Ballott comes back in the morning?" nor John to say, "Anybody that would believe the tale you brought in here tonight in place of them mules, aint competent to be the boss of nothing. And I aint even good convinced yet that his name is Boon Hogganbeck") "Mr Maury aint just gonter know where that team and wagon wasn't last night, he's gonter know where they was."

But John didn't say it. And sure enough, although Lu-dus's mules had been back in their stalls a good hour before daylight, fifteen minutes after Mr Ballott reached the stable at six the next morning, he sent for Ludus and told him he was fired. "Mr Boon knowed my team was out," Ludus said. "He sent me himself to get him a jug of whiskey. I brung it back to him about four this morning."

"I didn't send you anywhere," Boon said. "When he come in here last night with that cock-and-bull story about them mules being in Mr Maury's lot, I never even listened. I didn't even bother to ask him where that wagon actually was, let alone why he was in such a sweating need of a wagon and team last night. What I told him was, before he brought that wagon back this morning I would expect him to go by Mack Winbush's and bring me back a gallon of Uncle Cal Bookwright's whiskey. I give him the money for it—two dollars."

"And I brung you the whiskey," Ludus said. "I dont know what you done with it."

"You brought me a half a jug of rotgut, mainly lye and red pepper," Boon said. "I dont know what Mr Maury's going to do to you about keeping them mules out all night but it aint a circumstance to what Calvin Bookwright will do to you when I show him that whiskey and tell him you claim he made it."

"Mr Winbush stays a solid eight miles from town," Ludus said. "It would a been midnight before I could get back to—" and stopped.

"So that's why you needed a wagon," Boon said. "You finally tomcatted yourself clean out of Jefferson and now you got to ramshack the country to locate another back window you can crawl in. Well, you'll have plenty of time now; the only trouble is, you'll have to walk—"

"You tole me a jug of whiskey," Ludus said sullenly. "I brung you a jug—"

"It wasn't even half full," Boon said. Then to Mr Ballott: "Hell fire, you wont even have to give him a week's pay now." (The weekly pay of drivers was two dollars; this was 1905, remember.) "He already owes me that for that whiskey. What you waiting for? for Mr Maury to come in his-self and fire him?"

Though if Mr Ballott (and Father) had really intended to fire Ludus for good, they would have given him his week's pay. The very fact that they didn't indicated (and Ludus knew it) that he was merely being docked a week's pay (with vacation) for keeping a team out all night without proper authority; next Monday morning Ludus would appear with the other drivers at the regular time and John Powell would have his team ready for him as if nothing had happened. Only, Fate—Rumor—gossip, had to intervene.

So Father, Luster and I hurried up the alley toward the Square, me trotting now, and still too late. We hadn't even reached the end of the alley when we heard the shots, all five of them: WHOW WHOW WHOW WHOW WHOW like that, then we were in the Square and (it wasn't far: right at the corner in front of Cousin Isaac McCaslin's hardware store) we could see it. There were plenty of them; Boon sure picked his day for witnesses; First Saturdays were trade days even then, even in May when you would think people

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader