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

fightin' men were needed, there was always a Sackett to be found."
Mr. Chantry, I thought, was a lonely man, and when we lingered at table it was
because he wished to prolong the time. I knew how he felt, because many a time
when we'd set by the fire telling stories or singin' the old ballads like
"Greensleeves" or "Barbry Alien," I wished it would never end.
"I miss my wife, Echo," he said suddenly. "You are so like her, so very
feminine." He glanced at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Somehow, I
cannot imagine you with a rifle."
"I grew up with one, used a rifle as soon as a needle. I used to walk the woods
to school, or canoe on the rivers, and when a girl's much alone, she becomes
independent. I've camped out in the woods when caught by storms. It never
worried me much."
"You leave in the morning?"
"Yes, sir. I have already booked passage on the stage."
"You must be careful. You will be carrying what is a great deal of money to some
people, and that little iron box could buy you a farm in the flatlands, and a
big farm at that.
"Felix Horst is still here, and I do not believe it is an accident. He owes
White a favor and he is a dangerous man. I wish you would change your mind and
stay with me."
"If Horst comes after me for the money," I said, "I think it will be for
himself. He looks like a meaner man than Mr. White. He'd rob a man quick enough,
I think, and kill him, too. Once I get in the woods, I won't be worried about
such as him."
Mr. Chantry smiled, shaking his head. "You Sackerts! You always amaze me!"
"We live in wild country, sir. I know folks who think all wild things are sweet
and cuddly, but they've never come into a henhouse after a weasel has been
there. He can drink the blood of only one or two, but often as not he'll kill
every one of them. Wolves will do it in a pen of lambs, too. There are savage
beasts in the world, Mr. Chantry, and men who are just as savage. We've come
upon them now and again."
Well, I switched the subject to pleasanter things and got him to telling me of
his courtship and how he proposed and all. When he stopped the carriage at Mrs.
Sulky's, it was mighty late. As the carriage moved away, something stirred in
the shadows across the street.
The trouble was, when I snuggled down in bed, I wasn't thinking of the stage
that would take me west to Pittsburgh, but of the back of that young man's head
and those broad shoulders. The trouble was, I'd probably never see him again, or
get to know him.

Amy Sulky was in the kitchen when I came down the stairs before daybreak. She
was there working with the black woman who did most of the cooking. She was a
free woman wedded to a man who was coachman for a wealthy family. They went to
the door with me and Amy fretted some. "I don't like it! You going home alone,
all that way! And you carrying money!"
"The less said of it, the better," I cautioned. "But don't you worry none. I've
been about the mountains more than a bit."
We said our good-byes and I taken up my carpetbag, a good bit heavier now, but
nothing I couldn't handle. Back in the hills I'd rustled stumps and logs for the
fire more than once, and was accustomed to carryin' weight.