Читать книгу Timber-Wolf онлайн

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"Locked up for the night," he said. And then, carelessly: "What do you want, boys?"

McCuin simulated laughter.

"That's a good one, Gal. All we want is a chat with Joe. And...."

"Joe's gone," returned Gallup. He came to the door and opened it, his lamp in hand. "Went about half an hour ago; just after you boys did. Out the back way and on the run!" He laughed. "Guess he's foxy enough to make a circle around you dubs. Oh, come in and look if you think I'm lying to you."

He stepped aside and let them come in. They knew that he was lying and they saw from his eyes that he understood that they were not fools enough to take him at his word. Yet Joe had gone. In that Gallup had told the truth; the lie lay in what he concealed.

"Where did he go?" demanded Tim earnestly.

Gallup jeered at him. "If I knew I'd tell you, wouldn't I, Timmy? Most likely where little boys like you ought to be by now. Meaning in bed, Timmy dear."

In time they went away; by now, drawn close together by a common burning desire, they were resolved into a committee with one objective. Late as it was they searched high and low for Mexicali Joe. They went first to his wretched cabin among the pines at the edge of the settlement; they got his wife out of bed and fired questions at her, receiving only blank looks of wonder; clearly she had not seen Joe and had no inkling of his sudden importance. They went away and in turn looked in at every likely place which Big Pine offered. But they found no sign of Joe. In a town of less than fifty houses he had vanished like one shadow engulfed and blotted out by another. They began to fear that he had fled, frightened, into the mountains.