He was deathly white when he stood up, and he staggered against the
wall.
“On the way! Where?” he gasped.
“Home!” I yelled, frolicking like a lad. “Home! And we’ve got to make a
race of it if we propose to head Uncle Deck Sidney under the wire!”
Ten minutes later I was humping around Breed City, trying to find out
how I could escape.
The stage would not leave till morning. And that stage would take us to
Royal City, and blamed if I wanted to go through Royal City.
I knew well enough, of course, that Pratt had gone back there to join
his forces and I could hardly hope that the forces were still in jail.
On the new railroad which they were building into Breed only a part of
the rails were down; they were not operating trains. There was no stage
line through the broken country in that direction.
The Buffalo Hump Mountains were to the south, and to the east the Bitter
Root range raised obstructions.
I had the judge on my back, as it were! I couldn’t wake him up to what
had happened. He appeared to be mentally and physically prostrated.
I myself could have straddled a cayuse and ducked out over the broken
country. But the judge must have wheels under him when he was moved.
There seemed to be nothing to do but smash through Royal City, taking
our chances. I felt that the citizens there wouldn’t see us murdered on
the street, but they could not be expected to go along and guard us all
the way home. We would have three buzzards on our trail!
I was mighty blue and some scared. I was wishing that I had not indulged
that boyish impulse to carry my fortune in cash. I would be fine picking
for those devils! Take that money and the judge, and I had two pretty
heavy parcels to tug back to the East. The dusk came down on Breed
before I had braced myself to make the jump.
No, there was nothing else to it!
In order to catch trains and get to Levant ahead of calamity we must go
back across Callas prairie and run the gantlet of those three renegades.
I reckoned, according to my reading of time-tables, that the delay of
even one day would bump our plans fatally.
I had tried several times to find my friend, Mr. Wash Flye. I could not
get on to his track to save me. I wanted to talk transportation with
him, for I was having a mighty discouraging time of it with other
parties.
There were four public stables in the city, so I found by asking
questions. I tackled the biggest one first. The man in the office was
pulling off hip rubber boots with the air of one who has decided to call
it a day. He laughed at me when I asked for a horse.
“My friend, every cayuse in my stable that can walk, trot, run, or limp,
or even can cover ground by rolling over is hired and has either started
for the Blacksnake country where that new strike has been reported or
else is going to start with a crazy prospector astraddle.”
I offered to buy a horse. He said that he didn’t do business that
way--he had made promises and would keep them. I asked for names of men
who had hired. I found a few and was turned down; they all expected to
get rich if they could get to Blacksnake.