The Reivers

'It's going to take more than this switch or that boy popping his tongue either, to get him into that car,' Sam said.

'What gonter get him into that boxcar is that crowbar,' Ned said. 'Aint it come yet?' It was here now. 'Prize that-ere chicken walk loose,' Ned said.

'Wait,' Sam said. 'What for?'

'So he can walk on it into that boxcar,' Ned said. 'He's used to it now. He's done already found out aint nothing at the other end gonter hurt or skeer him.'

'He aint smelled the inside of an empty boxcar yet though,' Sam said. 'That's what I'm thinking about.' But Ned's idea did make sense. Besides, we had gone much too far now to boggle even if Ned had commanded us to throw down both walls of the warehouse so the horse wouldn't have to turn corners. So Boon and the railroad man prized the ramp away from the platform.

'God damn it,' Sam said. 'Do it quiet, cant you?'

'Aint you right here with us?' Ned said. 'Sholy you can get a little more benefit outen them brass buttons than just walking around in them.' Though it took all of us, including Miss Corrie, to lift the ramp onto the platform and carry it across and lay it like a bridge from the platform into the black yawn of the open car door. Then Ned led the horse up and at once I understood what Sam had meant. The horse had not only never smelled an empty boxcar before, but unlike mere humans it could see inside too; I remember thinking Now that we've torn up the ramp, we cant even get it down off the platform again before daylight catches us. But nothing like that happened. I mean, nothing happened. I mean, I dont know what happened; none of us did. Ned led the horse, its hooves ringing loud and hollow on the planks, up to the end of the ramp which now was a bridge, Ned standing on the bridge just inside the door, talking to the horse, pulling lightly on the halter until the horse put one foot forward onto the bridge and I dont know what I was thinking; a moment ago I had believed that not in all Memphis were there enough people to get that horse into that black orifice, then the next instant I was expecting that same surge and leap which would have taken the horse inside the boxcar as it had up the ramp; when the horse lifted the foot and drew it back to the platform, it and Ned facing each other like a tableau. I heard Ned breathe once. 'You folks just step back to the wall,' he said. We did so. I didn't know then what he did. I just saw him, one hand holding the lead rope, the other stroking, touching the horse's muzzle. Then he stepped back into the car and vanished; the lead rope tightened but only his voice came out: 'Come on, son. I got it.'

'I'll be God damned,' Sam said. Because that was all. The loose bridge clattered a little, the cavernous blackness inside the car boomed to the hooves, but no more. We carried the lantern in; the horse's eyes glowed coldly and vanished where Ned stood with it in the corner.

'Where's them planks and nails you talked about?' he asked Sam. 'Bring that chicken walk on in; that's already one whole wall.'

'Hell,' Sam said. 'Hold on now.'

'Folks coming in here tomorrow morning already missing a whole boxcar,' Ned said, 'aint gonter have time to be little-minded over a homemade ladder outen somebody's henhouse.' So all of us again except Ned—including Miss Corrie—carried the ravished ramp into the car and set it up and held it in place while Boon and Sam and the railroad man (Sam had the planks and nails ready too) built a stall around the horse in the corner of the car; before Ned could even complain, Sam had a bucket for water and a box for grain and even a bundle of hay too; we all stood back now in the aura of the horse's contented munching. 'He just the same as in Possum right this minute,' Ned said.

'What you folks better wish is that he has already crossed that finish line first day after tomorrow,' Sam said. 'What time is it?' Then he told us himself: 'Just past midnight. Time for a little sleep before the train leaves at four.' He was talking to Boon now. 'You and Ned will want to stay here with your horse of course; that's why I brought all that extra hay. So you bed down here and I'll take Corrie and the boys on back home and we'll all meet here at —'

'You says,' Boon said, not harshly so much as with a kind of cold grimness. 'You do the meeting here at four oclock. If you dont oversleep, maybe we'll see you.' He was already turning. 'Come on, Corrie.'

'You're going go leave your boss's automobile—I mean your boss's horse—I mean this horse, whoever it really belongs to—here with nobody to watch it but this colored boy?' Sam said.

'Naw,' Boon said. 'That horse belongs to the railroad now. I got a baggage check to prove it. Maybe you just borrowed that railroad suit to impress women and little boys in but as long as you're in it you better use it to impress that baggage check or the railroad might not like it.'

'Boon!' Miss Corrie said. 'I'm not going home with anybody! Come on, Lucius, you and Otis.'

'It's all right,' Sam said. 'We keep on forgetting how Boon has to slave for five or six months in that cotton patch or whatever it is, to make one night on Catalpa Street. You all go on. I'll see you at the train.'

'Cant you even say much obliged?' Miss Corrie said to Boon.

'Sure,' Boon said. 'Who do I owe one to? the horse?'

'Try one on Ned,' Sam said. He said to Ned: 'You want me to stay here with you?'

'We'll be all right,' Ned said. 'Maybe if you go too it might get quiet enough around here to where somebody can get some sleep. I just wish now I had thought in time *az A»

'I did,' Sam said. 'Where's that other bucket, Charley?' The railroad man—switchman, whatever he was— had it too; it was in the same corner of the car with the planks and nails and tools and the feed; it contained a thick crude ham sandwich and a quart bottle of water and a pint bottle of whiskey. 'There you are,' Sam said. 'Breakfast too.'

'I see it,' Ned said. 'What's your name, Whitefolks?'

'Sam Caldwell,' Sam said.

'Sam Caldwell,' Ned said. 'It strikes me that Sam Caldwell is a better name for this kind of horse business than twice some others a man could mention around here. A little more, and I could be wishing me and you was frequent enough to be permanent. Kindly much obliged.'

'You're kindly welcome,' Sam said. So we said good night to Sam and Ned and Charley (all of us except Boon and Otis, that is) and went back to Miss Reba's. The streets were empty and quiet now; Memphis was using the frazzled worn-out end of the week to get at least a little sleep and rest to face Monday morning witlh; we walked