“You’ve said it,” agreed Buck fervently.
His appearance had improved surprisingly in the ten days that had passed since his accident. The head-bandage was gone, and his swollen ankle, though still tender at times, had been reduced to almost normal size by constant applications of cold water. His body was still tightly strapped up with yards and yards of bandage, which Mary Thorne had thoughtfully packed, with a number of other first-aid necessities, in the parcel which was Bud’s excuse for making a trip to town.
Stratton was not certain that a rib had been broken after all. When Jessup came to examine him he found the flesh terribly bruised and refrained from any unnecessary prodding. It was still somewhat painful to the touch, but from the ease with which he 232 could get about, Buck had a notion that at the worst the bone was merely cracked.
“They wouldn’t be likely to notice where you left the Paloma trail, would they?” Buck asked, after a brief retrospective silence.
“Not unless they’re a whole lot better trackers than I think for,” Jessup assured him. “I picked a rocky place this side of the gully, an’ cut around the north end of middle pasture, where the land slopes down a bit, an’ yuh can’t be seen from the south more ’n a quarter of a mile. I kept my eyes peeled, believe me! an’ didn’t glimpse a soul all the way. I wouldn’t fret none about their followin’ me here.”
“I reckon it is foolish,” admitted Stratton. “But lying around not able to do anything makes a fellow think up all kinds of trouble. Lynch isn’t a fool, and there’s no doubt when you didn’t come back that night he’d begin to smell a rat right off.”
“Sure. An’ next day he likely sent in to town, where he’d find out from old Pop that I never showed up there at all. After that, accordin’ to my figgerin’, he’d be up against it hard. Yuh can bank on Miss Mary playin’ the game, an’ registerin’ surprise an’ worry an’ all the rest of it. There ain’t a chance in the world of his thinkin’ to look for me here.”
“I reckon that’s true. Of course we’ve got to remember that so far as he knows I’m out of the way for good.” 233
Bud took up coffee-pot and stew-pan and set them down beside Stratton, where the rest of the meal was spread.
“Sure,” he chuckled, dropping down against the ledge. “Officially, you’re a corpse. That’s yore strong point, old-timer. By golly!” he added, with a sudden, fierce revulsion of spirit. “I only hope I’ll be on hand when he gets what’s comin’ to him, the damn’, cowardly skunk!”