Текст книги "Comanche Moon"

Автор книги: Larry McMurtry

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 46 страниц)

He needed someone to take care of him, Woodrow did, and Maggie wanted to be the one to do it. She knew she could take care of him fine, without ever letting him suspect that he needed to be taken care of. She knew, too, that he liked to feel independent.

Maggie just wanted her chance.

Despite herself, watching him walk away, her heart swelled with hope. He hadn't said anything bad, when she told him about the baby. He had not even looked annoyed, and he often looked annoyed if she asked him any question at all, or detained him even for a minute, when he was in a hurry to leave. An appointment with the Governor was important, and yet he had stopped and listened to her.

Maybe, after all, the whoring was over, she thought. Maybe Woodrow Call, the only man she had ever loved, would think about it all and decide to marry her. Maybe he was going to make her dream come true.

Inez Scull, dressed entirely in black, was sitting in Governor Pease's office when Call and Augustus were ushered in. Bingham had come to fetch them and had not said a ^w on the buggy ride. What was more surprising to Call was that Gus had not said a ^w either. In the whole stretch of their friendship Call could not remember an occasion when Gus had been silent for so long–andthe buggy ride only took ten minutes, not a long silence by normal standards.

"Are you sick, or are you so drunk you can't even talk?" Call asked, near the end of the ride.

Augustus continued to stare off into the distance. He did not speak a ^w. In his mind's eye he saw the woman he loved–the woman he would always love–steaming up a broad brown river with Bob Allen, horse trader of Nebraska. His rival had won; that was the bleak fact. He saw no reason to chatter just to please Woodrow Call.

Though Madame Scull was silent, she was a presence they could not ignore. When they stepped in, the Governor was busy with a secretary, so they stood where they were, hats in hand, just inside the door of the broad room. To their embarrassment Madame Scull got up and came and gave them a silent inspection, looking them over from head to foot. She was bold in her looking too, so bold that both men were made distinctly uncomfortable under her silent gaze.

"Here they are, Inez–our two young captains," the Governor said, when the secretary left. "They brought the troop home safe and rescued three captives besides." "I'd say it's beginners' luck," Madame Scull said, in a tone that stung Gus McCrae to the quick.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we ain't beginners," he said. "Woodrow and me have been Texas Rangers a good ten years already." "Ten years!" Madame Scull said. "Then why haven't you learned to stand at attention properly? Your posture is a disgrace. It's a slouch, not a stance, and it doesn't bode well." "And the other one needs barbering," she added, turning to the Governor. "I'm afraid I must decline to be impressed." "But we ain't soldiers, we're rangers," Gus said, unable to restrain himself in the face of such insults.

"Now, McCrae, you hush," the Governor said. He knew that Inez Scull was capable of high, even cyclonic furies, and he did not want a cyclone to strike his office just then.

"This is Mrs. Scull," he added hastily.

"She's upset that the Captain didn't come home with the troop." "Shut up, Ed," Mrs. Scull said, to the young rangers' great shock. It couldn't be proper for a woman to tell a governor to shut up, even if she was the Captain's wife.

But the Governor immediately shut up.

"I am not so ill bred as to be upset," Inez said. "I'm angry. Do either of you have a notion as to where my husband is?" "Somewhere along the Pecos River, I reckon, ma'am," Call said.

"I hope he drowns in it, then, the stumpy little mongrel," Madame Scull said, turning to the Governor–Governor Pease had retreated a step or two, and looked very out of sorts.

"He is rather a mongrel, you know, Ed," she said to the Governor.

"I don't follow you, Inez–he's a Scull and I believe they're a fine family," Governor Pease replied.

"Yes, but rather bred down, if you want the truth," Madame Scull said. "Inish is the only one left with any fight, and most of that comes from his mother–she was a Polish servant, I believe. Inish's father was Evanswood Scull.

He rose rather high in Mr. Madison's government, but he would have the Polish maid. So Inish is a mongrel and that's that." "Fight's worth more than breeding when you're policing a frontier," the Governor remarked.

"Perhaps, but I did not agree to police any frontiers," Inez replied. "I need my operas and my lapdogs and my fine shops.

Given my shops and a little Italian singing I can get by rather well without that black mongrel of a husband." Augustus wanted to look at Woodrow, to see how he was digesting all this, but Madame Scull stood right in front of them; he didn't dare turn his eyes.

"Did the ugly little brute give you any warning, or did he just sniff the air and walk off?" she asked. "Inish usually leaves at a moment of maximum inconvenience for everyone but himself. Did you wake up expecting him to leave, the morning he took himself away?" "No, ma'am," both said at once.

"He just decided to go try to get his horse back," Call added.

"Bosh ... the horse is just an excuse," Inez said. "Inish doesn't care about horses.

Not even Hector. He'd just as soon eat one as ride one." "But Inez, what other reason would he have to walk off like that?" the puzzled Governor asked, still nervous about the possible cyclone.

"I don't know and neither do these slouchy boys," Madame Scull said.

"We tried to talk him out of walking but he wouldn't listen," Call informed her.

"He was the captain–there wasn't much we could do," Augustus said.

"No, he's a damn restless mongrel–he wanted to walk off and he did walk off, leaving everybody, including me," Madame Scull said. "It's abominable behaviour, I say." "Ma'am, he left with Famous Shoes, who's a fine tracker," Call pointed out.

"Famous Shoes knows the country. I expect he'll bring the Captain out." "You don't know the man," Inez snapped.

"He won't show up unless he's fetched. I expect he'll find his way to the sea, and the next thing I know there'll be a telegram from India, or somewhere, expecting me to pack up and follow.

I won't have it, not this time!" There was silence in the room. Madame Scull's last statement left everyone in doubt.

Did she intend to go after the Captain herself? Her black eyes were so filled with anger that when she looked at Augustus he felt like stepping back a step or two, yet she was so forceful that he was afraid to move a muscle, and Woodrow was just as paralyzed. Governor Pease stared out the window, uncomfortable and silent.

"Will you fetch him for me, gentlemen?" she asked, softening her voice even as she raked them with her eyes. "If we don't catch him soon I might have to wait a year for news, and I won't tolerate it!" "Of course you have my permission," the Governor quickly added. "I'd recommend taking a small force, perhaps four men besides yourselves." "The sooner you get started, the better," Inez said.

In Gus's mind was the coming torment of Clara's wedding–he saw Madame Scull's request as a God-sent, hope of escape.

"I'm ready, I can leave in an hour," Augustus said. "Or less, if it's required." Call was very startled by his friend's wild statement. They had scarcely been back a day from a long expedition. The men were tired and the horses gaunt. [ they to set off without rest to find a man who might refuse to come back even if they found him, which was by no means a certain thing?

Before he could speak Mrs. Scull suddenly smiled at Augustus.

"Why, Mr. McCrae, such impetuosity," she said. "I wouldn't think of having you depart quite that soon. No doubt you have arrangements to make –a sweetheart to say goodbye to, perhaps?" "I ain't got a sweetheart and I'm ready to leave as soon as I can clean my guns and catch my horse," Gus said. He didn't think he could endure being in Austin much more than another hour–not with the triumphant Bob Allen taking up all Clara's time, as he would for the rest of her life. If the boys couldn't leave at once, then he meant to leave anyway and camp somewhere along the route, with a bottle of whiskey to keep him company.

Call was astonished, but Gus's peculiar desire to depart at once wasn't the only thing that concerned him.

"What if we find him and he won't come back?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sure if you tell him Inez is anxious he'll be happy to come back with you," the Governor said. His own main desire was get Inez Scull out of his office before she broke into a fit.

"Inish hates to be checked, particularly when he's running away from his duties," Inez said.

"They may have to arrest him." "Just find him and ask him politely to come back," Governor Pease said, remembering that Inish Scull himself was no slouch when it came to throwing fits. Besides, he was a popular hero, and not loath to act the part. Putting such a popular man under arrest might lead to political catastrophe–he might even lose the governorship, if Inish stood against him. It was too much to risk.

"Ask him politely–what good will that do?" Mrs. Madame Scull said. "Inish ain't polite." "What'll we do then, ma'am, if we find him and he won't come back?" Call inquired.

"How should I know? I ain't a great Texas Ranger, I'm just a wife," she said. "But don't come back without him–I won't have it!

Come along, Mr. McCrae." She started for the door. Augustus wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"Do what, ma'am?" he asked.

"Come along–are you deaf?" Madame Scull said, turning briefly. "I'd like you to walk me home, if you ain't too busy saying goodbye to your sweethearts." "Ma'am, I just told you, I got no sweethearts to say goodbye to," Gus repeated.

"Capital!" Madame Scull said. "In that case I may ask you to stay for tea. Being abandoned by one's husband does make one so lonely." Then she looked over at Call, with a little smile.

"I would ask you too, Captain Call," she said, "but I expect you're more of a ladies' man than Captain McCrae. I imagine you do have sweethearts who will expect you soon." "Oh no, ma'am–Captain McCrae's the ladies' man," Call said, though Gus glared at him. "I guess I better go see which of the boys is in the mood to ride out again on short notice." "I think I'd locate a barber first, sir, and let him clean you up a little," Mrs. Scull said. "I believe you'd be rather handsome if you were barbered properly." "Thank you," Call said. "I intended to get barbered before I came to see the Governor." "Then why didn't you, sir?" Inez asked.

"You'd have made a far better impression if you'd gone to that little bit of trouble." No wonder the Captain walked off, Call thought. He was not about to tell Madame Scull what he'd done instead of getting barbered and he resented that she had been so impertinent as to ask.

"Where do you think he went, Ed?" Madame Scull asked the Governor, her eyes fixed on Call, even though Augustus had gone to the door and was holding it open.

"Went? I don't know where he went," the Governor said impatiently. "I've just met Captain Call and am not familiar with his habits." "I expect he went to a whore," Inez said, with a little laugh. "He looks like the kind of man who would put whoring before barbering. Don't you agree, Governor?" Governor Pease had had enough–the woman would stay forever, it seemed; and he .was the governor.

"Any man would put whoring before barbering, Inez," he replied. "It would be the normal thing." "That's it! I knew you had starch, Ed Pease," Madame Scull said. "I expect I ought to ask you to my tea party instead of this green ear of corn here, but then you're the governor.

You've got duties." "I've got duties," Governor Pease agreed, as Madame Scull swept out the door.

Call glanced at Augustus, puzzled as to why he would twice say he had no sweetheart to say goodbye to, when Call himself had just seen him holding hands with Clara, outside the general store.

Gus, though, avoided his eye.

"I'll see you at the stables, Woodrow," he said, as he followed Inez Scull out the door.

"It's like eating green persimmons," the Governor remarked darkly, once the door was safely closed.

"What, sir?" Call asked.

"Uncharitable talk, Captain," Governor Pease said, with a sign and a smile. "Every time I talk to Inez I come away feeling like I've eaten a green persimmon–y know how they make your mouth shrink up?" "I wouldn't know, I avoid green fruit!" Call said.

"I've got to send you out, Captain–I gave Inez my promise," the Governor said.

"But it's up to you what to say to Inish, if you catch up with him." "I might just tell him to keep on walking," Call said.

"That's right–let him wander," Governor Pease replied. "Why come back just to be et alive by your wife? If you've got to be et alive, let some cannibal Indian do it." The more the Governor thought about Inez Scull, the more worked up he became.

"Damn rich women anyway," he said.

"Particularly rich women from Birmingham, Alabama." He looked out the window for a bit, gloomily.

"Inez Scull would try the patience of a saint, Captain," he said–and then he paced the room for a few minutes, evidently unable to leave the subject of Inez Scull alone.

"Not just a saint. Jobffwas he exclaimed.

"Inez would even try the patience of Jobffwas "I don't know Job, but she sure tried mine," Call said.

As they walked up the steps of the Scull mansion Augustus began to feel timid and uneasy. Madame Scull had marched along, nearly half a mile, from the Governor's office to the slope where the castle stood, without saying a ^w to him. She had talked constantly while at the Governor's, but now she was mute as a jug.

Earlier in the day, in his vexation over Clara, Gus had kicked a large rock and broken his boot heel. He had been meaning to get it repaired when Woodrow showed up and stuck him in the Governor's buggy.

Now, as he was trying to keep up with the fast-striding Madame Scull, the wobbly boot heel broke off, which caused him to have to walk a little lopsided. His awkward, tilted stride seemed to amuse Madame Scull.

"I believe I embarrassed your friend by accusing him of being a whorer–wd you say I did?" she asked.

"Yes, but it don't take much to embarrass Woodrow Call," he said. "He's still stiff as a poker when it comes to women." "Stiff as a poker–d you mean that anatomically, sir?" Madame Scull asked, with a little laugh.

An old man with a rag was polishing the big brass knocker on the mansion's front door.

The old man looked drunk, but he straightened up promptly when he saw Madame Scull.

"Hello, Ben, this is Captain McCrae, he's going to find Captain Scull and fetch him home," she said. "We'll be having tea in an hour–tell Felice we might appreciate a biscuit as well." Augustus thought that was odd. Why would it take an hour to make tea? Once in the door, though, he forgot about it; he had never supposed he would be in such a grand establishment–everything in the house excited his curiosity. Just inside the door was a great hollowed-out foot of some kind that held umbrellas and parasols and canes and walking sticks.

"I sure wouldn't want to get stomped by a foot this big," he said.

"No, you wouldn't ... it's an elephant's foot," Madame Scull said. "That tusk over the mantel came from the same beast." Sure enough, a gleaming ivory tusk, a little yellowish and taller than a man, was mounted over the mantel. The whole house was full of curious objects and gadgets that he would have liked to look at, but Madame Scull gave him only a moment. In the next room a lovely yellow girl was polishing a long dining table with a cloth.

He smiled at the girl but she didn't acknowledge his smile.

"Don't bring the tea into the bedroom, Felice, just leave it outside my door," Inez said. "And don't rush us, please.

Captain McCrae and I have some serious matters to discuss. Do you take jam with your biscuits, Mr. McCrae?" "Why, yes, I'd approve a little jam, if it's no trouble," he said.

"Why would it be trouble?" Madame Scull said. "Let us have a few dollops of jam, Felice." "Yes, ma'am," the girl said.

Augustus wondered what it would be like to work with a blunt woman such as Madame Scull, but he was allowed no time to do more than nod at the girl.

Madame Scull was ascending the long staircase and she seemed to expect him to follow.

On the second floor there was a long hall with high windows at both ends. A yellow bench stood against one wall. Gus was doing his best to hobble down the hall in his awkward boots when Madame Scull pointed at the bench and ordered him to sit.

"I've had enough of your hobbling, Captain, or may I call you Gus?" she asked.

""Gus"' will do, ma'am," he said, taking the seat she pointed to.

"Let's get those boots off–I can't stand a hobbler," Madame Scull said.

"I can take 'em off, ma'am, but it won't be quick," he said, a little surprised. "They're tight as gloves." "I'll help you, Gus ... stick out your leg," the lady said.

"What, ma'am?" he asked, confused.

"Stick out your leg, sir," Inez demanded; when he obeyed she turned her back to him, straddled his leg, and took his boot in both hands.

"Now push," she demanded. "Push with your other foot." Augustus did nothing of the sort; he was intensely embarrassed. Of course the rangers often helped one another off with recalcitrant boots by using that method–witha little pushing on the helpful ranger's backside, the boot would usually come off.

But Madame Scull wasn't a helpful ranger–she was the wife of Captain Scull.

Besides, she was a female and a lady: he couldn't stick up a dusty boot and push on her backside.

"Ma'am, I can't, I'd be embarrassed," he said.

Inez Scull showed no inclination to relinquish the foot she held between her legs. Her black skirt was bunched up around Gus's ankle.

Gus was so embarrassed he was blushing, but Inez Scull had her back to him and didn't see the blush.

"Push with your other foot and push now!" she demanded. "I'm damned if I'll tolerate any guff from you, Gus. I've helped Inish off with his boots a thousand times in this way. He says I'm better than a bootjack and I expect I am–s push!" Gus wiped his foot a few times on the floor and gingerly set it against Madame Scull's backside. He pushed as commanded, but not very hard, as Madame Scull tugged.

"You're right, they're a close fit, push harder," Inez said.

Gus pushed harder, and Madame Scull tugged. To his relief the boot finally came off. She dropped his foot and he immediately withdrew his leg.

"The other one don't fit as close–I can get it off myself," he said.

Madame Scull was looking at him boldly –he had never had a woman look at him with quite such boldness.

"Give me the other foot and shut up!" she demanded. "Stick your leg out–let's have it!" Again, she straddled his leg. Since he had only a sock on his other foot now, Augustus was not quite so reluctant to push–he thought the best thing to do was finish the business of the boot removal and hope it would soon be time for tea.

He pushed, and Madame Scull quickly got the second boot off and dropped it beside its mate. She didn't release his foot or his leg, though–not this time. Instead she held his foot tightly and began to rub herself against the leg that was now between hers. Augustus couldn't see her face, but, again, he was deeply embarrassed. Why would the woman forget herself in that way?

He didn't say a ^w. He preferred to pretend that his officer's wife wasn't astraddle him, rubbing his bony leg against herself.

It was a predicament so unexpected that he could not think clearly.

Madame Scull continued with her activity for what seemed like several minutes. Gus began to hope, desperately, that a servant would wander upstairs on some chore, in which case surely she would stop her rubbing.

Just when he thought Madame Scull might be ready to stop she suddenly peeled off his sock.

Once she had it off she stroked his bare foot for a minute and then threw the sock across the room.

"That sock's too filthy to wash," she said.

"I'll give you a pair of Inish's, when you leave." "Well, I guess I ought to get along and help Woodrow, pretty soon, ma'am," Gus said. He was beginning to be actively fearful, his suspicion being that Madame Scull was a madwoman–no doubt that was why Captain Scull had decided to leave.

Inez Scull didn't reply. Instead, to his horror, she pulled his bare foot up under her skirt and began to rub it against herself. Then she reached back, grasped his other foot, peeled the sock off, and stuck that foot under her too. She began to sway from side to side, rubbing herself with first one foot and then the other. Gus couldn't see her face, but he could hear her breathing, which was hoarse and raw.

Then Madame Scull dropped his feet and whirled on him. He had been pulled half off the bench by her exertions already. Before he could scoot back Madame Scull grabbed his belt and began to yank at it. She was breathing hoarsely and there was sweat on her forehead and cheeks.

"You said your friend Captain Call was stiff as a poker with the ladies–now let's see about you," she said.

Augustus suddenly realized what Inez Scull had been talking about when she made that remark in the yard. He felt feverish with embarrassment as Madame Scull proceeded to unbutton his pants. What would Clara think, if she knew?

But then, as Madame Scull opened his pants and began to probe in his long johns, Augustus remembered that Clara was getting married. In only two days she would be Clara Allen. What he did with Madame Scull or any woman would not be something she would want to know. The thought filled him with hopelessness, but, hopeless or not, Madame Scull was still there, hoarse and insistent.

When he slipped down to the floor he thought, for a moment, that she might smother him with her skirts. But Clara was gone–gone forever. He had no reason to resist–in any case it was too late.

Madame Scull managed to scoot them over onto a big green rug in front of a closet of some kind.

"This will be better, Gussie," she said. "We won't be bumping our knees on this hardwood floor." "What about ...?" Gus said–he was still nervous about the servants; but he never got farther with his question. Madame Scull overrode it.

"Hush up, Gussie, let's trot!" she said. "Just be my ranger boy, and let's trot!"

Call was at a loss to know what could be detaining Augustus. He had got himself well barbered, haircut and shave, and had a dentist look at a back tooth that had been bothering him from time to time. The dentist wanted to pull the tooth immediately, but Call decided to take his chances and keep it. He waited in Gus's favorite saloon for two hours, hoping Gus would appear and they could decide what men to take on their search for Captain Scull.

Mrs. Scull had said she might require Augustus to have tea with her–but why would it be taking so long to sip tea? He inquired of the old Dutch bartender, Liuprand, how long tea took to make, thinking there might be some ceremony involved, one he didn't understand.

"Tea ... why, five minutes, if it's a big pot," Liuprand said. He was a small man with no skill at fisticuffso–in the course of trying to subdue unruly customers his nose had been broken so many times that it now bore some resemblance to the fat end of a squash.

Call had already decided that he wanted to take the black man, Deets, who had been the most useful member of the company on the recent trip north. Deets could cook and sew and even doctor a little, and had shown himself able to work whatever the weather.

He knew he could not linger over his choosing too much longer. The sun was setting; the men chosen would be expected to leave when it rose at daybreak.

He wanted to ask Long Bill Coleman to go with them–there was no steadier man available than Long Bill Coleman–but he had just been reunited with his wife, Pearl, and might not feel like leaving her again, so abruptly. Even if Long Bill wanted to go, Pearl might not be willing to relinquish him again, so soon.

No more, for that matter, would Maggie want to see him leave again, so quickly. He dreaded having to go inform her of the order. She had brought up the subject of a baby, a problem he would hardly have time to consider, given all he had to do before leaving. In fact, he would have liked to linger with Maggie a few days and let her indulge him and feed him beefsteak. His dread at having to tell her the Governor was sending them off again was so strong that he had three whiskeys, an unusual thing for him. It was not something he would have done had Gus McCrae come promptly.

Call's suspicion was that Augustus was somewhere in the Forsythe store, spooning with Clara.

It was a strong enough suspicion that he went outside and sent Pea Eye Parker across the street to check. Pea Eye had few friends; he was merely sitting in front of the barbershop when Call sent him on the errand. Call liked the tall lanky boy; he thought he might take him with them if Gus had no objection.

Pea Eye was back in the saloon before Call had had much time to even lift his glass.

"Nope, he ain't in the store–I asked the lady," Pea Eye said. "She ain't seen him since the two of you left for the Governor's, that's what she said to tell you." "Now, this is a dern nuisance," Call said.

"I need to pick the men and get them together. How can I make decisions with Captain McCrae if he's disappeared?" Jake Spoon wandered into the saloon about then and heard the discussion.

"Maybe he got kidnapped," he said, mainly in jest.

"He just went to take tea with Madame Scull, I can't imagine what's detaining him." "Oh," Jake said. He got a kind of funny look on his face.

"What's wrong, Jake? You look like you et a bug," Pea Eye said.

Jake was thinking that he knew exactly what Captain McCrae was doing, if he was with Madame Scull. He remembered his own hot actions with her, in the closet, all too well– the memories of their active lust were a torment to him at night.

"I ain't et no bug–I ain't that green," Jake replied. "I just swallowed wrong." "But you ain't eating nothing," Pea Eye persisted. "What did you swallow, anyway?" "Because I had air in my mouth, you fool," Jake said, irritated by Pea Eye's questioning.

"Captain, if you're going off again, can I go?" Jake asked, boldly. "There ain't much to do in town, with the boys gone." The question took Call unprepared. In fact, the new assignment took him unprepared. The Governor, mainly to placate Madame Scull, had given them a task that seemed more ridiculous the longer he thought about it.

There were thousands of miles to search, and the man they were looking for had the tracker with him. Captain Scull's departure had been wild folly to begin with, and now he and Augustus were being asked to compound the folly.

"I'll discuss it with Captain McCrae, Jake," Call said.

"I'm anxious to go if there's a place," Jake said. He thought it unjust that Pea Eye had got to go on the last expedition, while he had had to stay and run errands for Stove Jones and Lee Hitch, two rangers who had both suffered broken limbs from trying to ride half-broken horses. Though unable to travel, the two men were easily able to come up with twenty or thirty errands a day that they demanded Jake run. Mainly, they themselves stayed in their bunks and drank whiskey.

On occasion they even tried to get him to fetch them whores.

Now there was another expedition forming, and Jake was determined to go; life in Austin had become so boresome that he'd even put his scalp at risk rather than stay. If the captains wouldn't take him, he meant to quit the rangers and try to get on as a cowboy on one of the big ranches down south of San Antonio.

Call grew more and more vexed. He was also a little drunk, thanks to Gus's lagging, and needed to get on with their decision making. He got up and left the barroom, meaning to walk up to Long Bill Coleman's house–or rather, Pearl's. Long Bill never had a cent to his name, but Pearl had been left a good frame house by her father, a merchant who had been ambushed and killed by the Comanches while on a routine trip to San Antonio. Call was on his way to see whether Long Bill had the appetite for more travel when he happened to spot Augustus, coming down the street in the deep dusk. Augustus usually strolled along at a brisk pace, but now he was walking slowly, as if exhausted. Call wondered if his friend had fallen ill suddenly–in the Governor's office he had been somber, but not sick.

"Where have you been? We need to be choosing our men and getting them ready," Call said, three hours of frustration bursting out of him.

"You choose, Woodrow, all I want is a bottle and a pallet," Augustus said.

"A pallet? Are you sick?" Call asked.

"It's not even good dark." "Yes, sick of Austin," Gus said. "I wish we were leaving right this minute." Call was puzzled by the change in his old friend.

All energy and spirit seemed to have drained out of him– and Gus McCrae was a man who could always be counted on for energy and spirit.

"You didn't say where you'd been," Call said.

Augustus turned and pointed up the hill, toward the Scull castle, its turrets just visible in the darkening sky.

"Up there–t's where I've been," Augustus said.

"Gus, it's been three hours–y must have drunk a fine lot of tea," Call remarked.

"Nope, we never got around to the tea," Augustus said. "Not the tea and not the biscuits, either. And while we're on the subject I don't think we ought to bring the Captain back." "Why not?" Call asked. "That's the only reason we're going, to bring him back. Of course, we've got to find him first." "You don't know Madame Scull, Woodrow," Gus said. "I'd say running off might be the Captain's only chance." "I don't know what you're talking about," Call said. "I've no doubt they squabble, but they've been married nearly twenty-five years –the Captain told me that himself." "He's a better man than me, then," Augustus said. "I wouldn't last no twenty-five years. Twenty-five days would put me under." Then, without more comment, he walked off toward the bunkhouse, leaving Woodrow Call more puzzled than he had been before.