butting into anything. That’s no way to talk.”
I looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You’re lying, Doc,” I said evenly. “You’re as scared as I am. Only you haven’t got the guts to admit it. Something happened in that hut that killed the old Indian. Some power of evil’s loose. I felt it behind me all across the plateau. Just like someone was trying to get her away from me. Just like someone’s hands were pulling her out of the saddle.”
Bogle dropped his glass. “Wadjer mean?” he gasped, his eyes bolting out of his head.
“I wish I knew,” I said, kicking back my chair. “I’m going up to see her.”
I found Myra lying in bed. A small electric fan whirred busily just above her head and the blind was drawn against the hot afternoon sun.
I drew up a chair. As I sat down, she opened her eyes and blinked lazily.
I said: “Hello.”
A puzzled frown knitted her brow and she raised her head, looking at me. “Hello,” she said.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Oh, I just looked in,” I said, smiling at her. “You feeling all right?”
She pushed down the sheet and raised herself on her elbows. She was wearing a pair of Ansell’s pyjamas. They were a lot too big for her.
“Am I supposed to be ill?” she asked, then the caught sight of the pyjamas. “What in the world…?”
The puzzled expression changed to alarm. “How did I get into these? What’s been happening?”
“Don’t get excited,”
“Why, of course. Why did you take me away? Why didn’t I wake up?” She ran her slim fingers through her hair. What’s been happening? Don’t sit there looking like a tired sardine. Tell me.”
“We found you asleep and we couldn’t wake you. So we just carried you off.”
“You couldn’t wake me?”
“Suppose you tell me what happened to you. Then I’ll know where we are.”
She frowned, “Why, nothing happened to me,” she said. “At least, I don’t think so.” She pressed her eyelids with her fingers and frowned. “You know I really can’t remember. Isn’t that stupid? The old Indian rather frightened me. He liked my tricks. Oh, I gave him the show of my life. I was never better. I wish you could have seen his face. I was a tremendous success. Then he took me to a little rock building. I thought Doc and Samuel were following, but I didn’t see them again. He left me in this place and I was lonely. I really hated it, especially when it got dark. I lay on a kind of bed and went to sleep. I don’t remember anything else.”
I found a little trickle of sweat running down into my collar and I patted my neck with my handkerchief. “What happened the next day?” I asked.
“To-day, you mean? I’m telling you. I went to sleep and here I am.”
“I see. You don’t remember anything?”
She shook her head. “Nothing happened,” she repeated with a frown. “I just went to sleep.”
“You’ve been asleep for two days,” I said, watching her.
“Two days? Why, you’re crazy!”
Then seeing the way I looked at her she went on, “You wouldn’t kid me, would you?”
“No. I wouldn’t kid you,” I said.
She suddenly laughed. “Well, maybe I was tired. I feel kind of weak now. Will you leave me for a little while? I want to think and then I’d like something to eat.”
I got up. “Sure,” I said. “You take it easy.”
Ansell and Bogle looked at me anxiously when I got downstairs. “It’s no good,” I said.
“She doesn’t remember anything.”
“You don’t mean to say she just slept all the time?” Ansell demanded. “But what about the snake-bite remedy? What happened to that?”
“Aw, quit asking questions,” I said, suddenly sore, and I went into the kitchen to order her a meal.
When it was ready, Bogle met me in the passage as I came from the kitchen with a tray in my hands.
“Can I take that up to her?” he said, scowling at me fiercely.
“You?” I nearly dropped the tray.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Bogle demanded fiercely. “You and Dce’s been up, ain’t you? Why can’t I have a look?”
I grinned at him. “She’s not a bad kid, is she?” I said.
“Bad?” Bogle snatched the tray out of my hands. “That ain’t the word for it.” But he tiptoed up the stairs as if they were made of paper.
As I turned into the lounge, there was a sudden wild yell from upstairs and a crash of broken china.
Doc and I looked at each other in alarm and then we dashed for the stairs.
Bogle came blundering down the passage, his face white and his eyes bolting out of his head. He tried to pass us, but I grabbed him and spun him round.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” I demanded, shaking him.
“Don’t go in there,” he quavered, sweat running down his fat face. “She’s floating round the room. Floating up to the ceiling,” and shoving me aside, he continued his mad flight.
“He’s gone crazy,” I said, staring after him. “What’s he mean, floating round the room?” Ansell didn’t say anything, but I could see by his eyes, he was scared.
Chapter SEVEN
“FLOATING in the air,” Myra said scornfully. “What kind of an imagination is that?” She was lying full length in a basket chair with her feet up. She still looked pale, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that l was glad to see.
The evening sun had sunk below the mountains and in the fading light, the verandah was quiet and restful. A cool wind rustled the scorched leaves of the overhead cypresses and the square was deserted. Ansell and I lolled in our chairs near Myra, while Bogle sat at the table, fondling a bottle half-filled with whisky.
“Drink’s going to be Samuel’s downfall,” Myra went on. “He can’t have his D.T.’s like an ordinary decent citizen. He has to be different. So he sees floating women instead of pink snakes.”
I looked across at Bogle. He worried me. Sitting in a heap, drinking whisky steadily, he looked like a man embarking on a long and serious illness. He kept shaking his head and muttering to himself and every now and then a muscle would flutter in his cheek and his eyes would twitch.
“Now, wait a minute,” I said. “He must have seen something to get him in that condition. A man doesn’t go to pieces like that for fun.”
“Phooey!” Myra snapped. “He’s trying to be temperamental. You came in two minutes after he’d rushed out. You didn’t see me floating in the air, did you?”
“I wouldn’t be sitting here, if I had,” I said with a grin. “I’d be running somewhere in the desert.”
“Well, there you are,” Myra said. “He’s suffering from delusions.”
“Suppose you go over your story again, Sam?” Ansell said kindly.
Bogle gave a little shiver and poured himself out another drink “I’ll go screwy if I even think about it,” he said in husky voice.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Myra told him. “You’re as far gone as you ever will be. After all, there is a limit even to lunacy.”
Bogle screwed up his fists and faced us. “I don’t care what you punks say,” he snarled. “I believe my own peepers. I went into that room and there she was lying on the bed. I didn’t even have time to ask her how she was when she suddenly rose off the bed with the blanket over her and floated up to the ceiling, stiff, like she was held up by wires.”
We all exchanged glances.
“She just floated off the bed, eh?” I said. “You’ve never seen anyone else just float off a bed before, have you?”