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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Ken," he called, with both gladness and doubt in his voice, "you look pretty good but that blood.... Tell me, quick!" "It's nothing, Dick, only a little cut. The bullet just ticked my arm." Whatever Dick's reply was it got drowned in Herky-Jerky's long explosion of strange language. Herky was plainly glad I had not been badly hurt.
Once, while they were talking, I happened to catch Herky-Jerky's eye. He was lying on his back in the light from the door. Herky winked at me, screwed up his face in the most astonishing manner, all of which I presently made out to mean that he wanted to speak to me. So I went over to him. "Kid, you ain't a-goin' to fergit I stalled off Buell?" whispered Herky.
Herky-Jerky's method of broiling a piece of venison at the end of a stick solved the problem of cooking. Then it was that the little flat flask, full of mixed salt and pepper, rewarded me for the long carrying of it. I was hungry, and I feasted. By this time the sun shone warm, and the canyon was delightful. I roamed around, sat on sunny stones, and lay in the shade of pines.
Our bedding was unpacked and placed at our disposal. We made our beds. After that I kept my eyes open and did not miss anything. "Leslie, I'm going to treat you and Ward white," said Stockton. "You'll have good grub. Herky-Jerky's the best cook this side of Holston, and you'll be left untied in the daytime. But if either of you attempts to get away it means a leg shot off. Do you get that?"
He rose to his feet. "Come down out o' thet!" he ordered, harshly. "Come down!" The sound of his voice stilled my trembling. I did not move nor breathe. I saw Buell loom up hugely and Bud slowly rise. Herky-Jerky's boots suddenly stood on end, and I knew then he had also risen. The silence which followed Buell's order was so dense that it oppressed me. "Come down!" repeated Buell.
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