Forty Lashes Less One

Raymond was at the window of the adobe. “He worked his way over to the right, coming in on the other side of the tree. You’ll see him in a minute.”

“Which one?”

“It looked like Junior.”

“He can’t sit still, can he?”

“I guess he’s thirsty,” Raymond said. “There he is. He thinks that tree’s hiding him.”

Harold could see him now, over to the right a little, approaching the bank of the water hole, running across the open in a hunch-shouldered crouch, keeping his head down behind nothing.

“How far do you think?” Raymond said.

Harold raised his Winchester and put the front sight on Junior. “Hundred yards, a little more.”

“Can you hit him?”

Harold watched Junior slide down the sandy bank and begin filling the canteens, four of them, kneeling in the water and filling them one at a time. “Yeah, I can hit him,” Harold said, and he was thinking, He’s taking too long. He should fill them all at once, push them under and hold them down.

“What do you think?” Raymond said.

“I don’t know.”

“He ever do anything to you?”

“He done enough.”

“I don’t know either,” Raymond said.

“He’d kill you. He wouldn’t have to think about it.”

“I guess he would.”

“He’d enjoy it.”

“I don’t know,” Raymond said. “It’s different, seeing him when he don’t see us.”

“Well,” Harold said, “if he gets the water we might not see him again. We might not see Frank Shelby again either. You want Frank?”

“I guess so.”

“I do too,” Harold said.

They let Junior come up the bank with the canteens, up to the rim before they shot him. Both fired at once and Junior slid back down to the edge of the still pool.

Norma looked at it this way: they would either give up, or they would be killed. Giving up would be taking a chance. But it would be less chancey if she gave up on her own, without Shelby. After all, Shelby had forced her to come along and that was a fact, whether the Indian and the Negro realized it or not. She had never been really unkind to them in prison; she had had nothing to do with them. So there was no reason for them to harm her now —once she explained she was more on their side than on Frank’s. If they were feeling mean and had rape on their mind, well, she could handle that easily enough.

There was one canteen left, Joe Dean’s. Norma picked it up and waited for Shelby’s reaction.

“They’ll shoot you too,” he said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why, because you’re a woman?”

“That might help.”

“God Almighty, you don’t know them, do you?”

“I know they’ve got nothing against me. They’re mad at you, Frank, not me.”

“They’ve killed six people we know of. You just watched them gun Junior—and you’re going to walk out there in the open?”

“Do you believe I might have a chance?”

Shelby paused. “A skinny one.”

“Skinny or not, it’s the only one we have, isn’t it?”

“You’d put your life up to help me?”

“I’m just as thirsty as you are.”

“Norma, I don’t know—two days ago you were trying to turn me in.”

“That’s a long story, and if we get out of here we can talk about it sometime, Frank.”

“You really believe you can do it.”

“I want to so bad.”

Boy, she was something. She was a tough, good-looking woman, and by God, maybe she could pull it. Frank said, “It might work. You know it?”

“I’m going way around to the side,” Norma said, “where those bushes are. Honey, if they start shooting —”

“You’re going to make it, Norma, I know you are. I got a feeling about this and I know it’s going to work.” He gave her a hug and rubbed his hand gently up and down her back, which was damp with perspiration. He said, “You hurry back now.”

Norma said, “I will, sweetheart.”

Watching her cross the open ground, Shelby got his rifle up between a notch in the rocks and put it on the middle adobe across the water hole. Norma was approaching from the left, the same way Junior had gone in, but circling wider than Junior had, going way around and now approaching the pool where tall rushes grew along the bank. Duck down in there, Shelby said. But Norma kept going, circling the water hole, following the bank as it curved around toward the far side. Jesus, she had nerve; she was heading for the bushes almost to the other side. But then she was past the bushes. She was running. She was into the yard where the big tree stood before Shelby said, “Goddamn you!” out loud, and swung his Winchester on the moving figure in the striped skirt. He fired and levered and fired two more before they opened up from the house and he had to go down behind the rocks. By the time he looked again she was inside.

Frank Shelby gave up an hour later. He waved a flour sack at them for a while, then brought the three horses down out of the brush and led them around the water hole toward the row of adobes. He had figured out most of what he was going to say. The tone was the important thing. Take them by surprise. Bluff them. Push them off balance. They’d expect him to run and hide, but instead he was walking up to them. He could talk to them. Christ, a dumb nigger and an Indin who’d been taking orders and saying yes-sir all their lives. They had run scared from the train and had been scared into killing. That’s what happened. They were scared to death of being caught and taken back to prison. So he would have to be gentle with them at first and calm them down, the way you’d calm a green horse that was nervous and skittish. There, there, boys, what’s all this commotion about? Show them he wasn’t afraid, and gradually take charge. Take care of Norma also. God, he was dying to get his hands on Norma.

Harold and Raymond came out of the adobe first, with rifles, though not pointing them at him. Norma came out behind them and moved over to the side, grinning at him, goddamn her. It made Shelby mad, though it didn’t hold his attention. Harold and Raymond did that with their painted faces staring at him; no expression, just staring, waiting for him.

As he reached the yard Shelby grinned and said, “Boys, I believe it’s about time we cut out this foolishness. What do you say?”

Harold and Raymond waited.

Shelby said, “I mean what are we doing shooting at each other for? We’re on the same side. We spent months together in that hell hole on the bluff and, by Jesus, we jumped the train together, didn’t we?”

Harold and Raymond waited.

Shelby said, “If there was some misunderstanding you had with my men we can talk about it later because, boys, right now I believe we should get over that border before we do any more standing around talking.”

And Harold and Raymond waited.

Shelby did too, a moment. He said then, “Have I done anything to you? Outside of a little pissy-ass difference we had, haven’t I always treated you boys fair? What do you want from me? You want me to pay you something? I’ll tell you what, I’ll pay you both to hire on and ride with me. What do you say?”

Harold Jackson said, “You’re going to ride with us, man. Free.”

“To where?”

“Back to Sentinel.”