Young Sherlock Holmes_ Red Leech - Andrew Lane [34]
‘We’ll have to watch him,’ she said. ‘Look for signs of dizziness, sickness, nausea or confusion.’
‘I’ve suffered from all of them in my time,’ Crowe said, faintly but distinctly. ‘Can’t say I enjoyed ’em much, but they were mainly self-inflicted. This time it wasn’t my fault.’
‘Father!’
Eyes still closed, he reached up and patted her clumsily on the shoulder. ‘I rolled when I hit the ground. Technique was taught to me by a rodeo rider in Albuquerque. If a body relaxes all its muscles and rolls up like a porcupine, it can probably survive a fall worse than that.’ He glanced at Sherlock, ‘I can see that you found out the same thing yourself He paused, closing his eyes momentarily and breathing slowly. ‘What happened to the coach?’
‘They got away,’ Sherlock said angrily. ‘With Matty.’
‘An’ the man who stayed behind an’ shot me?’
‘Alive but unconscious. We can take him back and question him, I suppose.’
‘Yep,’ Crowe said darkly, ‘I s’pose we can.’
Sherlock thought for a moment. ‘I can tie him up,’ he said. ‘Then we can sling him over my horse. If you’re all right to ride, Virginia can ride Sandia and I’ll walk.’
‘We need to move fast,’ Virginia said. For some reason she was blushing, and she wouldn’t look at Sherlock. ‘Walking would take too long. You can ride behind me.’
‘Are you sure?’ Sherlock asked.
‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,’ Crowe said, chuckling. ‘The ideas are good, but what are you goin’ to use to tie the man up?’
Sherlock thought for a moment. They didn’t have any ropes with them. He could use the reins from his horse, he supposed, but how would they make sure that it stayed with them when they rode off? Could he make some bindings from the reeds on the river bank? Too wet, and it would take too long. ‘My belt,’ he said finally. ‘I can tie his hands behind his back with my belt.’
Crowe nodded. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said. ‘Or you can use the twine in my pocket.’ He glanced up at Sherlock. ‘There’s some things a man should always travel with – a knife, wax matches an’ a ball of twine. There ain’t much you can’t do with a combination of knife, matches an’ twine.’
Sherlock took the twine from Crowe and tentatively walked back down the road to where Gilfillan still lay. It was nearly dark by now, and for a terrifying moment Sherlock couldn’t locate the man in the shadows, but eventually he found where he was lying. He tied the man’s hands, wrist crossed over wrist, then left him and walked back to where his horse was cropping grass by the side of the road as if this kind of thing happened every day. Leading the horse back, he left it beside Gilfillan and bent down, trying to work out how to get the man up and on to the horse. Eventually he managed to manoeuvre the American to his knees, still unconscious, then slipped himself underneath the man as he slumped forward, taking the weight on to his upper back. He straightened, pushing with his knees and feeling his muscles protesting as he stood, head bowed forward, Gilfillan’s body balanced precariously across his shoulders. For a moment he panicked, unsure how he was going to get it on to his horse, but by that time Amyus Crowe was standing upright and Virginia could come across to help him. Between the two of them, they got Gilfillan slumped across the saddle of Sherlock’s uncomplaining horse. To stop him sliding off, Sherlock tied Gilfillan’s wrists to the stirrup on one side and his ankles to the stirrup on the other. Finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
‘I been meanin’ to ask,’ Virginia said from beside him, ‘what did you end up callin’ your own horse?’
‘I haven’t given it a name,’ Sherlock replied.
She seemed surprised. ‘Why not?’
‘Couldn’t see the point. Horses don’t know they have names.’
‘Sandia knows her name.’
‘No, she knows the sound of your voice. I doubt she understands words.’
‘For a kid who knows so much,’ she said critically, ‘you sure don’t know very much.’
The four of them made a sorry-looking bunch as they cantered back to Amyus Crowe’s cottage – Crowe slumped forward on his horse, Virginia on Sandia with