Rafe stared at the wrappings, trying to understand what had happened, but too shocked, too confused, to get really hold of anything beyond the appalling notion that this gross tub of lard had used him for a guinea pig. And that no matter if he wound up maimed for life—He said, feeling sick, 'Am I going to be able to use 'em?'
Pike regarded him across steepled fingers. 'Little early yet to say.' He stared a while longer, settling back with a chuckle. 'At least you won't be much worse off than I found you.'
'And where was that,' Rafe finally said.
'In the Dunes. There was quite a gale coming up. It's a wonder those shifting hills hadn't buried you.'
Rafe reckoned that was probably what they had put him out there for. 'What happened to the mare?'
'Some ranch hand found her halfway to Willcox,' Pike said with his look playing over Rafe's face. 'She was pretty sore footed, didn't have a shoe on her. Sheriff went over and picked her up couple of weeks ago'
Presently Rafe, uncommonly meek, said, 'About how far from where you found me was she?'
'About forty miles.'
A kind of quiet set in through which, peculiarly, both men stared. Then Pike with a wheezing groan got up. 'Somebody worked you over plenty. Sheriff's going to want to know about that. Probably be by to pick up your statement. You damn well better be around when he gets here.'
It was hard for Rafe to realize that more than two a weeks had dropped right out of his life while he'd been flat on his back and out of his head. And he was sorely confused. It wasn't like a Yankee to be so diligent in behalf of an obviously down-and-out Rebel.
Bunny came in with the slop that Pike had called for, fluffed up his pillows, and proceeded to feed him. This she did with a determined cheer, chattering on, apparently paying no mind to Rafe's black scowls and rather niggardly replies.
He didn't even bother to make out like he was listening; he was too upset, too taken up with his worries.
She broke off, sat back, looking reproachful, a little indignant. 'If you think this is fun for me—' she began, then with color coming into her cheeks let it go. 'Tomorrow we're going to get you out of that bed.' She pushed the last spoonful of broth-clammy crackers into his mouth. 'Daddy says I'm not to stop you, that if you want to climb through that window again you'll not be hurting anyone but yourself. I do hope though,' she said, regarding him slanchways, 'that this time you'll at least think before you leap.'
She had his attention now, all right. Every last scalp-prickling bit of it. 'You—' he licked dry lips, 'you mean I'm free to go? That I can walk right outa here any time I want?'
She stared back at him unreadably. At last, with a sniff, she gathered up her eating tools, got out of her chair. But at the·door she looked back; almost, he thought, with a kind of reluctant pity. 'I've told you all I can,' she said.
VII
Rafe felt the cold prickles digging into his belly. So that was their game! The old
And maybe they wasn't too far wrong at that. Their tin-badge sure knew which pocket the bulk of his living come out of. He wouldn't want to cross that penny-pinching banker; and the whole shebang likely knew by now Pike's patient wasn't nothing but another whipped Rebel. Rattle him, get the bastard's wind up, and then when he hopped through that window nail him! Who was going to kick up a stink over what the law did to any cut-and-run sesech saddle bum?
He could feel the sweat coming through his skin. Some goddamn Rebel was always getting himself killed. Nothing new about that. If it hadn't been for the girl—but this was no time to be thinking about her! It was
It didn't make no difference in Rafe's tangled thinking that all of his assumptions might not actually be true. He'd had nothing but trouble since he'd come into this country and he was, by grab, getting plenty fed up.
True to Bunny's promise they got him out of her bed the very next day; gave him steak, too, all he could cram into him. They sure was in a sweat to get him up and about and off on his own again. Pike, evidently, had been told to get rid of him.
It wasn't too easy to understand when you came right down to it. That banker, Chilton, cracked the whip around here—he'd stood Dahl off, no doubt about that. And Rafe was Chilton's man, on the surface anyway. Or had the highbinder washed his hands of Rafe after learning he was back in Pike's care, busted up? Had he learned the whole story of what had happened out yonder, or was it just Rafe's failure which had brought this shift in plans?
Nothing Rafe hit on seemed to make much sense. But with Bunny's cryptic words still rattling around through the corridors of his mind he was in no hurry to get back into circulation. A third week passed almost before he was aware of it. Except that his flippers were still swathed in bandages he was beginning to feel more his natural self. Pike helped him into his clothes every morning. Bunny fed and shaved him, gave him the run of the entire house. Her father washed him. The girl helped him on and off with his boots. He managed to hold back the calls of nature until Pike was around and then, some days later, the old red nosed boozer took off the wraps to have a squint at his handiwork.
Rafe was most nigh scairt to look himself. He peered at the flesh serving Pike for a face but might's well have quartered a rock, he thought, for all the good he got out of it. Then he saw Pike's eyes and very near quit breathing.
When he got hold of his courage, he said pretty bitter, 'You got to take off both of 'em?'
'Eh? No, no, nothing like that,' Pike said, covering up with a heartiness obviously as spurious as a three-dollar bill. 'Turned out a deal better than we'd any right to hope for. Try moving those fingers. Here, let me massage them.'
Rafe still wouldn't look, but there was plenty of feeling. He damn near climbed right out of the chair. Through clamp-shut eyes he snarled, 'You tryin' to break 'em!'
