“Why don’t you go to Casa Grande? It’s nearer.”
“What’s the use? What could I do? If I go to Conejo, I can pick up Mendoza and his car and mebbe some fellers to go along and make a posse. Of course, if they’re cleaned out—but I’m figurin’ that they ain’t.”
“Sure. You got to do that,” replied O’Grady. “When you goin’ to start?”
“Soon as I can get Mrs. Van to put me up some chow.”
“Well, good luck to you—and the rest of them. I’d sure hate to think of them folks of ours massacred by a bunch of greasers,” and O’Grady strolled sadly away.
Mrs. Van Zandt was washing dishes when Johnson stopped in with his request He prefaced it with an inquiry about the invalid.
“Oh, he’s doin’ all right, I guess. Doc’s give him something to make him sleep. I’ll say this for the man—he’s a good doctor. He means to be a doctor while he’s here, too. Nothing doing on the cooking job.”
“No?”
“No, sir! I asked him something just kind of casual about pies and you’d have said he’d never heard of one. Distant as anything! I suppose I can stand it if he cures Jimmy. Where you going?”
“Going to walk to Conejo.”