Swamp Sister

'Behint that bucket-type seater.'

Mr. Ferris reached behind the seat and felt for the case. When he found it he drew it into the light and placed it before him on the floorboards, flat. He didn't do or say anything. He stared at the gutted surface and at the clump of green and black bills bulging up through the rent.

'Hit's all there,' Shad said, looking hard at the brief case. 'Except fer that hundred I took.'

Ferris said nothing.

'Hit's a shore God heap of money, ain't it?'

There was a pause, and then Mr. Ferris murmured, 'Yes – a heap of money.' He seemed slightly mesmerized. When he spoke again his voice had a curiously disembodied flavour.

'Seeing it like this – face to face – brings one to realize why men turn to schemes. Men like Jort Camp and Sam and -' He didn't finish it.

Shad nodded, looking at him. 'How'd you come to get hooked up with Jort and Sam, Mr. Ferris? I'd a thought old Jort would try to avoid you like a fox going downwind of a hound.'

A smile came and went in Mr. Ferris' face like a snap of the fingers. 'No, no,' he said. 'I didn't have any trouble in convincing friend Camp that we should form a partnership. You see – I knew where the body was buried.'

'How's that?'

'It's a city saying, it means I knew something about them that they wouldn't want published.'

Shad's eyes narrowed. 'What was that?'

Mr. Ferris looked at him. 'It doesn't matter now, Shad. It was something I saw them doing in the woods that night you had your fight with the Fort boy.'

It was bothering Shad again – Jort's face in the dream, the ten-dollar bill in Jort's denims. He tasted his lips.

'Did hit have anything to do with Dorry Mears?'

'It isn't important now,' Mr. Ferris said flatly.

Shad stared at him. Mr. Ferris turned his head and stared back -and for the first time Shad saw more than just a pair of peculiarly penetrating eyes. It touched him like an ice pick at his throat, because he'd seen so much of it lately. Simply greed.

Mr. Ferris put his right hand inside his jacket and under his armpit. When he drew the hand out it held a snubnosed. 38, and he let Shad see the little round black hole in the end of the barrel. He smiled wistfully

'You see, Shad, I wasn't quite unprepared to deal with Jort and Sam.'

Shad couldn't make up his mind whether to watch Mr. Ferris' eyes or the goodbye end of the. 38. He made a sound in his throat and got his tongue moving finally.

'You ain't got the idee I brung you here to kill you, do you?'

'It had crossed my mind, yes. I'm not going to be so foolish as to forget what happened to Camp and Parks today You're a rather dangerous man, Shad.'

'That was self-defence,' Shad said. 'You said so yourself. They was fixing on killing me.'

Mr. Ferris nodded. 'It follows that they would have to – in order to have all the money for themselves.'

Shad got his eyes away from the. 38 and looked at Mr. Ferris.

'Oh,' he said. 'I kindly begin to see. It ain't exactly that you're so afeered of me – but if I'm dead then there ain't nobody left kin tell whatever become of this money'

Mr. Ferris smiled. 'That – I confess – has also crossed my mind. It seems to be the general opinion in this territory that you found this money and then proceeded to run off with that Mears girl. I feel that that's a nice comfortable way to leave the situation – the law hunting for two dead people, I mean.'

'Then Dorry is dead?'

'The Mears girl? I have every reason to suspect so. But it doesn't really matter to you now, does it?'

'I reckon not,' Shad thought of Margy waiting for him to come to her, waiting in the center of the swamp. No, Dorry didn't matter to him one way or another now. But Margy did.

'I guess you ben planning this here fer some time?' he stalled.

'Not so long – only four years. Though actually I seldom make long-range plans. The nature of things is too often perverse. Your former lady friend – Iris Culver and I had a little plan afoot; and oddly enough it nearly worked. Though I rather imagine that had you brought her this money, she would have walked out on both of us and not a word said.'

Shad didn't give a Sunday damn about Iris Culver. He could feel his life petering out to the small end of the. 38- Margy's life too. He looked up. 'You going to bullet-hole me now, Mr. Ferris?'

'Yes, Shad. I'm afraid I must.'

Shad grunted.

'I say if you go to kill me, you just as well turn the barrel around and trigger yourself a goodbye. Without me, you don't even got the chance Sam Parks's got of gitting out a here. And Sam's got no more chance than an idiot trying to breed the razorback outn a strain of hogs before the third generation.'

Mr. Ferris' smile returned slowly 'Don't try that on me, Shad. I've noticed your trickiness before.'

'You ain't begun to see trickiness till you seen what this old swamp kin pull on a man. I ben coming out here since I was a tad, and twice I've gone and lost myself. And what about my brother Holly? He done got so lost he never has found hisself again. And he ain't the only one. You know how many men done died out in this swamp since you left here four years ago?'

He could see that he had Mr. Ferris going now. The eyes were the same except that the bright glare of greed had been replaced with intent concern.

'You know how I done lost myself last time? A great granddaddy gator kicked the skiff right out from under me, and me with a. 30-06 bear gun. You know what a gator will think of that popgun of yourn, Mr. Ferris? He'll kindly think you're pegging acorns at him.'

'All right, Shad,' Mr. Ferris cut in coldly. 'I'll admit that your suggested violence is ominous. But barring an alligator attack, I know my way out of here. All I have to do is go straight down this waterway to that large lake -'

'You know the name of that large lake, Mr. Ferris?' (Mr. Ferris didn't.) 'Well, I don't mind giving you that much of a start. It's called Breakneck. You know why hit's called that? Because at the north end a tongue of land nearly cuts the neck in two. It's good to know these things, Mr. Ferris. A man needs every landmark he kin git in this end of creation. You know how many waterways lead out a Breakneck, Mr. Ferris? Eighteen that you kin see. But why worry about Breakneck – you ain't even out of this little old piddly lake where we got the skiff yet. Let's see – they must be – yeah, I kin think of eight waterways right offhand leading out a this lake. You know which is the right one, Mr. Ferris?'

He'd said it now, all that he had to say. It was time to shut up and let Mr. Ferris stew. So he finished with- 'Now you set there and brood on it a bit, Mr. Ferris. And while you're about it, I'd kindly appreciate if you'd offer me one of your taior-mades.'

It was pure-out amazing the way that Mr. Ferris could contain himself. There he was, still holding hard to that smile and dishing out cigarettes like they were the best of buddies.

'It's a pity, Shad, you were born poor white. I think you might have made something of yourself had you been given an even start.'

'I manage to keep myself living – minute by minute.'

'Yes, you do. And it looks like you've just talked yourself into a few more hours of it.'

Borrowed time. I done got it. It's all I ask, God. Just give me a bit of an edge and I'll cold grab at the rest.

Minutes later they were wading into the pool, Shad going ahead clutching the torn side of the brief case to his body, prodding the raft before him; Mr. Ferris following a little to the left with the. 38 trained on his back.

The water rose past Shad's knees and he placed the brief case on the raft and looked back at Mr. Ferris.

'What about my girl?'

Mr. Ferris shook his head.

'Better this way, don't you think?'

Shad stared at him, thinking. You cold little son-o-bitch. Then he nodded and started to lean half over the