True Grit - Charles Portis [62]
Who was to blame? Deputy Marshal Rooster Cogburn! The gabbing drunken fool had made a mistake of four miles and led us directly into the robbers’ lair. A keen detective! Yes, and in an earlier state of drunkenness he had placed faulty caps in my revolver, causing it to fail me in a time of need. That was not enough; now he had abandoned me in this howling wilderness to a gang of cutthroats who cared not a rap for the blood of their own companions, and how much less for that of a helpless and unwanted youngster! Was this what they called grit in Fort Smith? We called it something else in Yell County!
Lucky Ned Pepper shouted out for The Original Greaser and Harold Permalee to leave their watch post and come to the camp. The four horses were saddled and in readiness. Lucky Ned Pepper looked over the mounts, then at the spare saddle that lay on the ground. It was an old saddle but a handsome one, decorated with fixtures of beaten silver.
He said, “That is Bob’s saddle.”
Tom Chaney said, “It was Bob’s horse we lost.”
“That you lost,” said the bandit chieftain. “Unsaddle that gray and put Bob’s saddle up.”
“I am riding the gray,” said Chaney.
“I have other plans for you.”
Chaney set about unsaddling the gray horse. He said, “I will be riding behind Bob?”
“No, it will be too chancy with two men up if it comes to a race. When we reach Ma’s house I will send Carroll back to fetch you with a fresh mount. I want you to wait here with the girl. You will be out by dark. We are going to ‘The Old Place’ and you can meet us there.”
“Well, I don’t like that,” said Chaney. “Let me ride with you, Ned, just out of here anyway.”
“No.”
“Them marshals will be up here.”
“They will guess we are all gone.”
I said, “I am not staying here by myself with Tom Chaney.”
Lucky Ned Pepper said, “That is the way I will have it.”
“He will kill me,” said I. “You have heard him say it. He has killed my father and now you will let him kill me.”
“He will do no such thing,” said the bandit chieftain.
“Tom, do you know the crossing at Cypress Forks, near the log meetinghouse?”
“I know the place.”
“You will take the girl there and leave her.” Then to me, “You can stay the night in the meetinghouse. There is a dummy called Flanagan lives about two miles up the creek. He has a mule and he will see you to McAlester’s. He cannot speak or hear but he can read. Can you write?”
“Yes,” said I. “Let me go now on foot. I will find my way out.”
“No, I won’t have it. Tom will not harm you. Do you understand that, Tom? If any harm comes to this child you do not get paid.”
Chaney said, “Farrell, let me ride up with you.” Farrell Permalee laughed and made noises like an owl, saying, “Hoo, hoo, hoo.” Harold Permalee and The Original Greaser Bob came up and Chaney commenced to plead with them to share their mounts. Greaser Bob said no. The Permalee brothers now teamed together like silly boys, and would give Chaney no sensible answer. Harold Permalee would interrupt Chaney’s question each time with mockery, making animal sounds such as are made by pigs and goats and sheep, and Farrell would laugh at the sport and say, “Do it again, Harold. Do a goat.”
Chaney said, “Everything is against me.”
Lucky Ned Pepper made sure the buckles were fastened good on his saddle wallets.
Greaser Bob said, “Ned, let us cut up the winnings now.”
“There will be time for that at ‘The Old Place,’ ” replied the bandit chieftain.
“We have been in two scraps already,” said The Greaser. “We have lost two men. I would feel easier if I was carrying my own winnings.”
Lucky Ned Pepper said, “Well, Bob, I thought your interest was in saving time.”
“It will not take long.