They all went up the trail between the cutbanks to the flats at the top.
Bo dismounted and told Early, “Climb on top of the wagon.”
Brubaker frowned. “What’ve you got in mind to do with the boy, Creel?” he asked.
“I don’t want to put him in with those three prisoners,” Bo said. “But I don’t want to have to shoot him off his horse if he decides to light a shuck, either. So I figured we could tie his hands and feet and he could ride on top.”
“I’ll fall off,” Early complained.
“Try not to,” Scratch drawled. “Sounds like a pretty good idea to me, Bo.”
“Why are we even takin’ him along anyway?” Brubaker wanted to know.
“Well, Forty-two, you’re the boss,” Bo said, “so if you don’t want to bring him, I reckon we can just tie him up and leave him here. Somebody
“I told you, you’re wastin’ your time,” Early said. “I ain’t a double-crosser.”
“Also,” Bo went on, “we’d have him to use as a hostage if we needed to.”
Early let out a bark of laughter.
“Now you really are loco,” he said. “If Hank Gentry wants to kill you, he won’t let me stand in the way. Why, he’d—”
The youngster stopped short as he realized what he was saying.
“That’s right,” Bo said. “He’d just shoot you to get to us, because he doesn’t care whether you live or die, Early. Are you starting to understand now what I’ve been trying to tell you?”
Early just glared and muttered something, probably a curse.
Brubaker said, “All right, you convinced me, Creel. Get up there, kid. Morton, you got some rope I can use?”
“I sure do,” Scratch said.
A few minutes later, Early Nesbit was sitting on top of the wagon with his hands tied together behind his back and his legs stretched out in front of him with the ankles roped together. As long as he made an effort to stay balanced, he wouldn’t be likely to fall off. Bo tied the youngster’s horse to the back of the wagon, alongside Brubaker’s saddle mount.
“Ready to go,” he told the deputy with a nod.
“Let’s get movin’, then,” Brubaker said. “Right now, the more distance we put between us and Indian Territory, the better as far as I’m concerned.”
CHAPTER 22
Taking Early Nesbit along with them was a complication in the plan Scratch had come up with, but it couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t really safe to leave him behind, because there was no telling when some of Gentry’s men might come along and find him, and at the same time discover that Brubaker had taken the prisoners across the river at that spot.
And no matter what else, killing the boy in cold blood wasn’t an option, despite what they’d made Early believe.
Nightfall found them making camp several miles south of the Red River. Early had complained a lot, but at least he wasn’t as obscene about it as Cara and the other two had been during the early stages of the journey. He had gotten on Brubaker’s nerves enough, though, that the deputy had threatened to gag him if he didn’t shut up.
After that, Early had just muttered and mumbled.
Scratch took Cara when she had to go visit the bushes that evening. When they were far enough away from the camp, she said, “All right, we’re in Texas now, like you wanted. When are we gonna make our break for it, Scratch?”
“I was thinkin’ maybe tonight,” he said, keeping his voice pitched low so he wouldn’t be overheard.
“Oh, thank the Lord! I wasn’t sure I could take one more day of bein’ cooped up inside that damn wagon!” She paused, then went on, “Listen, you’ll have to knock out Dayton and Jim, otherwise they’ll raise a ruckus when they see that I’m escapin’ and they ain’t.”
“I can do that,” Scratch said. “I’ve been wonderin’. . . don’t they know where that hideout is, too?”
“Sure, they were ridin’ with Hank back in those days, just like I was.”
“Won’t they figure that’s where you’re headed and tell Brubaker where to find you?”
“Not hardly,” Cara answered without hesitation. “They’ll still be hopin’ that Hank will get them loose somehow, and they’ll know that if they spill the location of that cache to the law, he’d kill ’em faster than some judge ever could. They’ll wait until he rescues them, then tell Hank what happened and where they think I went. But by then it’ll be too late, even if Hank does free them. And if he doesn’t, well, they might break down on the gallows and tell about it, but it’ll be too late to stop us by then, too.”
“You’ve thought it all out,” Scratch mused.
“Of course I have,” she said. “I learned a lot while I was riding with Hank. He’s pretty smart.”
“All you needed was to figure out which one of us was the most likely to help you, so you’d know who to bat your eyes at and play up to.”
“Now, it wasn’t like that, honey,” Cara said with a pout in her voice. “I never would’ve said anything to start with to Brubaker or your friend Bo. I’ve known plenty of stiff-necked, upright bastards like them. They’re too blasted stubborn to know what’s good for ’em. But a man like you ... you’re smart enough to see the possibilities. That’s why I liked you right from the start. Well, once we got past that part about tryin’ to cut you with a razor blade, anyway.”
Scratch laughed. “You are a caution, Cara LaChance.”
“You don’t know just how right you are,” she said.
“What about that kid? You know him from when you were still with the gang?”
“Early?” Cara emerged from the brush and shrugged her shoulders as much as the heavy chains would let her. “I remember seein’ him around a few times. Don’t know that I ever talked to him. There were always kids suckin’ around Hank, wantin’ to be desperadoes. He said that was just part of bein’ famous.”
“I may have to knock him out, too.”
“Go right ahead,” she told him. “Kill him if you need to. He don’t mean nothin’ to me.” Cara nodded toward the camp. “We’d better get back. We’ve been out here a while, and we don’t want them gettin’ suspicious when we’re this close to makin’ our move.”
“You’re right,” Scratch said, noting to himself that she was already taking charge. He was starting to wonder just who had really been running that gang. He thought that the story she had told him about being scared of Hank Gentry and going along with everything he said might have been embellished just a mite.
Back at the wagon, Early was complaining because his hands were still tied behind him.
“As long as my feet are tied, I can’t go anywhere,” he argued. “So why can’t my hands be tied in front of me?”
“Where you can grab a gun, if any of us was foolish enough to get within reach of you?” Brubaker asked. He let out a disgusted snort. “Not likely, kid.”
“Look, Marshal, I’m startin’ to think that maybe I ain’t so keen on bein’ an outlaw after all. If you were to turn me loose, I give you my word I’d go on back to Tioga and you’d never see or hear from me again. And I wouldn’t help Hank Gentry find you, neither.”
“Forget it,” Brubaker said. “You should’ve thought of that before you started runnin’ with that no-account trash. What I’m gonna do, since we need supplies anyway because the trip is takin’ longer than I expected, is go to Gainesville. We can provision up there, and I’ll leave you locked in the city jail with instructions for the marshal to hold you there until I wire him to let you loose.”
Early stared at him for a second, then burst out, “You can’t do that! Why, I ... I didn’t even break any laws! I was just sittin’ there smokin’ a cigarette when that old galoot jumped on me and like to busted all my ribs!”
