The boy shivered. Somewhere below him a bird repeated, monotonously, a brief ripple of song.
After a few minutes a block-chested man stepped into view. His shoulders were hunched in a black leather jacket. He looked apprehensively up at the boy. When nothing happened, he called, "I'm coming up. Keep your hands in plain sight." He started up the hill, measuring his steps purposefully. Once he paused and pulled at his broad-brimmed hat, then came on resolutely.
There was a day's growth of whiskers on the man's chin and jowls, and despite the cold a shiny film of perspiration glistened on his cheeks. He drew a pistol from a chest holster as he approached.
Two paces away, the man halted. "I'm Sheriff Derwin," he said in a stilted, unnormal voice. "I'm placing you under arrest. Do not resist. We have you surrounded."
The boy made no reply, but continued to watch the man, blinking several times, as though considering what had been said. After a minute he spread his hands wide in a weary motion of acquiescence.
"Good." Derwin gestured. Three men left their places in the brush and began to move cautiously up the hill.
"I'll have to search him," Derwin said over his shoulder. His voice was too loud in the morning air. "Keep him covered. Remember, he's a killer." He holstered his own gun and moved unwillingly closer to the boy. "Raise your hands." The boy did as he was told; Derwin patted him quickly about the chest and hips.
The examination was only barely adequate. "When we take him in," Derwin said, "careful not to get too near him. He can kill you, just with his hands. Stay out of reach."
Derwin put his prisoner in one of the three cells in White Bear Lake's jail. The boy offered no resistance. He stood with his head resting wearily against one of the steel bars and watched without apparent interest as his cell door was locked. But when Derwin made as though to leave, he straightened and his features livened. His expression became one not quite of pleading, and not quite a question; but rather of hopeful expectation—as though he had some deep need which he expected Derwin to recognize.
The sheriff stood for a minute, meeting the boy's intent gaze, then shrugged and went on toward his office. He limped a little. An old knee cap injury had been aggravated by his chase of the boy, and now it was swollen and stiff.