I was tired. I had been riding in the stage the night long and riding horseback all the day, and I’d had nothing to eat since around midday yesterday. I could still make out the buggy tracks, going straight on.
Now I could see lights in the cabin windows. I heard a door slam as somebody went in or out. Maybe I could get something to eat or even find a place to spend the night. I wouldn’t be able to track the buggy tonight. Anyway, I could ask.
Another moment I glanced on up the road, but I could not see anything. It was too dark. Turning my horse into the gate, I rode up to the hitching post, and getting stiffly down, tied my horse, glancing back at the gate. They had forgotten to close it. Farm folks were careful about gates unless they were expecting somebody. Neighbors, maybe, or one of the family still out.
At the door, I rapped. For a moment, nothing happened. I could smell bacon frying and my stomach growled, a most ungenteel sound, but I was hungry.
I knocked again, and I heard feet approaching. The door opened, light fell across my face, sudden after the darkness. “Come in!” It was a man’s voice. “Come right in! You’re just in time for supper!”
Stepping in, I reached to close the door behind me, but it was already closing.
There was a candle on the table, a fire in the fireplace, and there was bacon in the frying pan, and a smell of coffee.
“Come right in and set! You’re just in time to have supper!”
The door closed behind me, a bar fell in place. There were two men, and one of them was the untidy young man from Mr. White’s office; the other was the man in the houndstooth coat.
9
For a moment I just stood there. The younger man was at the fire with a fork in his hand. The man in the houndstooth coat had moved between me and the door. There was no way I was going to get past him and get that bar moved and the door opened before they stopped me.
“Thank you,” I said. “Travelin’ makes a body mighty hungry. The smell of that bacon stopped me.”
Me bein’ casual like that kind of stopped them in their tracks. They didn’t know what to make of me and I hoped to keep it thataway. I was trying to let them think I didn’t know who they were or that they didn’t belong here. I could see now this had been an abandoned house. I should have guessed it from the weed-grown fields and the fences with rails down.
“Mind if I set down? It’s been a long day.” Keepin’ my face bland as I could, I reached out a hand. “My name is Sackett, Echo Sackett. I’m bound for Tennessee. Should be meetin’ my Uncle Regal in Pittsburgh. He’s comin’ on to meet me.”
I was lyin in my teeth, but I was wishful they would think I was expected somewhere and if I didn’t show up folks would be makin’ inquiries.
“Finian Chantry, he’s an old friend of my grandpa, he sent word to Regal to meet me. Didn’t like me travelin’ alone.”
I kept on runnin’ off at the mouth, afraid trouble would start when I stopped. Also, I was hopeful of worrying them some. If they thought there’d be folks lookin’ for me or tryin’ to find what had become of me, they might hesitate to do whatever they’d had in mind.
“Regal, he’s one of the greatest trackers and Injun fighters in Tennessee. He wanted to come with me, but couldn’t get away in time. Be good to see him again.”
I drew a breath, but before anybody could speak, I said, “My stars! That bacon sure does smell good!”
“Give her some bacon and bread.” The broad-shouldered man took off his hard gray hat and put it on a stand nearby. He had a thick neck and one crinkly ear, and somebody, sometime, had broken his nose.
“Thank you, sir.” I sat down and primly smoothed my dress. “I didn’t catch your name, sir?”
“Timothy Oats,” he said grudgingly, “an’ that there is Elmer.”
“We met.” Elmer put a plate of food before me, his eyes leering. “We met before.”
“Oh? Oh, yes! You’re that nice young man from Mr. White’s office! Somehow I thought you were a city man. I didn’t expect to find you away out in the country like this.”
“Gimme some of that coffee,” Oats said.
Did they know I was chasing them? Had they seen me run around the corner after them? I had to chance it.
“I left the stage in Ghambersburg,” I said. “It was too rough. The ride, I mean. I left my things on the stage, but I hired a horse. It’s easier riding, and I thought I’d stop and see some friends.”
“Friends? You said you was from Tennessee,” Elmer protested.
“I am. From Tuckalucky Cove, or thereabouts, but we’ve friends up thisaway.” I grasped at a name. “I should say a friend. He’s a hunter. Known all over this part of the country. Name of John McHenry.”
“Never heard of him,” Elmer said.
“If you was a hunter you would. He’s a dead shot. He’s fed himself and his folks for years. He may hunt for the market, too. I don’t know about that.”
“What’s so great about huntin’?” Elmer demanded.
“If we didn’t shoot our meat, we wouldn’t have any. I reckon it is the same in these mountains up here. We have great respect for a man’s shootin’ ability. Take us Sacketts, for example. All of us are hunters, and we are all good shots. Right now,” I said, “we’ve got a feud goin’, too. With the Higginses, but we’re ahead of them right now. Our boys shoot better than they do.”
“What about the law?”
“Folks don’t bother much, as long as we only shoot each other. I guess the law figures sooner or later we’ll wipe each other out, but that’ll take a while. Must be forty Sacketts in the hills now, and some down in the flat country. If you step on one Sackett’s toes, they all come running.”
The plate before me was empty. Now came the big gamble. I drained my coffee cup and pushed back my chair. “I got to get goin’. If I don’t show up pretty soon, those McHenry folks will be huntin’ me.”
I started toward the door, then stopped, brushed an old piece of sacking away, sacking that had covered my carpetbag. “An’ I’ll just take this along with me.” When I straightened up, the bag was held in my left hand. In my right I had that Scottish Highlander pistol.
Oats had started to rise; Elmer had turned, startled by my sudden switch.
“You just set still. This here pistol shoots mighty straight, an’ I wouldn’t want one of you boys to have to bury the other. Just set real quiet, now.”
I put down the bag, pushed the bar away, never taking my eyes from them, and picked up the bag. Elmer was getting over his shock and he put the fryin’ pan down real gentle. I don’t know what was in his mind but didn’t aim to be around to find out.
Oats had kind of leaned forward, starin’ at me, and suddenly he came off that chair with a lunge. Stepping quickly back, I managed with the tip of a finger on my gun hand to start the door swinging shut. He hit it with a bang and I ran for my horse. I heard him cursing, heard Elmer yell something; then the door jerked open and they both came tumbling out. I was in the saddle, trying to hold the carpetbag and reins with the same hand, ready to shoot if need be.
Then I was out of the gate and headed down the road. Somebody behind me was swearing, and they were running for the barn. It was going to take them time to hitch up, and meanwhile, I was off and away.
Lucky? You bet I was lucky! When I got up from the table, my only thought was to get away from them; then I saw that carpetbag only partly hidden by the sacking. I just acted without thinking. Only thing saved me was, my action was unexpected. They figured me for a woman who would set quiet and do their bidding. Growin’ up as I had, I was active as any boy and ready for anything.
I taken off down the road. Ahead of me I could see a ridge, black against the sky. Next thing I knew, I was slowing down for a cluster of houses. Two of them seemed to be taverns, but closed for the night. This was Loudon, or some such place. Cove Mountain was ahead of me, and a winding road up it. Slowing down, I started up at a walk, a twisting trail toward the top. By now they would be after me, and they weren’t the kind of men to think of their horses. Nonetheless, I taken it easy.