“Well, somebody did.”
“I dimly remember tellin’ Big Foot and Hoodoo what we was goin’ to do,”
says Dirty, sad-like. “That must ’a’ been them two that Scenery brought
to jail.”
Me and Dirty gets to our feet. My feet don’t line up good, but I’m too
good to lay down and quit.
“We’ll just walk,” says Dirty, sad-like; “just walk and walk until we
finds the place which is farthest from Piperock, and then we’ll beg,
borrow or steal some broncs and keep on goin’.”
“How about me?” wails Waldemar.
We stops and looks at him, kinda wondering-like.
“I must go back and get my film and camera before I leave,” says he,
apologetic-like. “Then where shall I go?”
“Do just as yuh please,” says Dirty, “but as far as me and Ike Harper
are concerned, all things bein’ equal, you can take your —— creepin’
tintypes and go plumb to ——!”
We pilgrims away in the darkness, two sufferin’ souls, holding hands
that our feet may keep pointing ahead. We’re in no shape to walk and
Dirty says:
“Slow up, can’t yuh? They’re lookin’ for Big Foot and Hoodoo, not us.
Scenery likely thinks he’s got snakes. Don’t go so fast, yuh——”
“Sa-a-a-y!” yowls Waldemar, far away. “They made me tell who done it.”