"Louis L'amour - sackett05 - Ride The River" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

hair which everybody says is beautiful falling over my shoulders, and talking of
driving wild hogs and hunting game.
"If I were you," Amy advised, "I'd say nothing of driving hogs to the people you
may meet tonight. They wouldn't understand."
"Yes, ma'am, but ever'body in the mountains does what's necessary."
6
The United States Hotel served up a supper the like of which I'd never seen, and
we had Mumm's champagne to drink, which cost two dollars and a half a bottle!
"Do you have wine in the mountains?" Mr. Chantry asked.
"Some do," I admitted, "but mostly folks drink cider or whiskey of their own
make. At least, the menfolks do. There's wild grapes in the mountains, and there
have been some planted here and there. Some folks have made wine, but not such
as this."
Two dollars and a half a bottle! That was outrageous. In the mountains a body
could buy a barrel of whiskey for that price.
"I never paid much mind to it, Mr. Chantry," I said. "Womenfolks in the
mountains in our time don't touch whiskey. At least, not in public. There are
some who like a little nip on the sly, but not me. None of our family were
drinkers, although I've heard tell that wild Clinch Mountain bunch would tap the
jug once in a while."
"You must be careful," Mr. Chantry warned. "You'll be carrying quite a lot of
money, and I shall be surprised if there isn't an attempt to rob you."
"I came a long way to get this money, and I don't intend to let no thief take it
from me. I've got a pistol, and I have my pick."
"Oh, yes. The pick." Finian Chantry had a nice smile. "But be careful. That's a
lot of money to most people."
We had mock turtle soup, boiled bluefish with oyster sauce, tomatoes, and
eggplant.
Mr. Chantry asked me about the mountains, so I told him about our cabin in the
laurel with pines along the ridge above, the clear cold spring that gave us
water, and the hole near the spring where we kept our butter and milk. I told
him about hunting game and of the Clinch Mountain boys who were raised on bear
meat and poke greens.
"There was a time we could have become rich folk. The land was for the taking,
but we taken more to hunting along the ridges than settling in the rich
bottomlands. Of a sudden the rich land was gone and all that was left was ridges
and high country."
Across the room a man had been seated facing us. He was a tall man with high
cheekbones, a beak of a nose, and thin, tight lips. When I looked over, he was
staring at us, and he turned his eyes away, but I had seen the look. He was a
hunter.
"Mr. Chantry, there's a man across the room, just beyond the gray-haired man
with the two ladies. I figure him for trouble."
After a moment, Finian Chantry looked over and said, "You are a very perceptive
young lady. That is Felix Horst. James White defended him once ... for murder."
We took our time over supper. There was music playing somewhere out of
sightЧmighty pleasant it was, too. Most folks dined at home, but there were
always a few who wished to go out to eat. The waiters went about their business
so quietly a body scarcely realized they were about. Meanwhile, I kept an eye on
Felix Horst.