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Updated: June 19, 2025
The meal we ate was scant enough biscuits and steaks of broiled venison with a pinch of salt; but, starved as we were, it was more than satisfactory. Herky and Bill were absurdly eager to serve me. Even Bud was kind to me, though he still wore conspicuously over his forehead the big bruise I had given him. After I had eaten I began to gain strength.
Then, carefully studying the map, I marked off the three miles Herky and I had fired. "Very good. You had help in this?" "Yes. A fellow called Herky-Jerky. He was one of Buell's men who kept me a prisoner." "But he turned out a pretty good sort, didn't he?" "Indeed, yes, sir." "Well, I'll try to locate him, and offer him a job in the service. Now, Mr.
They're only brass." "Souvenirs. Maybe I'll have watch-charms made of them. Anyway, I can show them to my friends back East." "It'll be great what you'll have to tell," went on Dick. "It'll be funny, too." Greaser had begun to snarl viciously, and Herky and Bill looked glum and thoughtful. The arrival of Bud interrupted the conversation and put an end to our playful mood.
Herky-Jerky stood directly in his path. I caught only a glimpse, but it served to show that Herky was badly scared. The cub dove at Herky, under him, straight between his legs like a greased pig, and, spilling him all over the trail, sped on out of sight. Herky raised himself, and then he sat there, red as a lobster, and bawled curses while he made his huge revolver spurt flame on flame.
Hiram was to return at once with officers. If none could be found at the mill he was to guard the prisoners and take care of them till Dick could send officers to relieve him. Thereupon we cooked a meal, and I was put to feeding Herky and his companions. Dick ordered me especially to make them drink water, as it might be a day or longer before Hiram could get back.
His heels had dug a hole in the hard clay floor; his wrists were skinned; his mouth and chin covered with earth, probably from his having bitten the ground in his agony. Herky helped him up and gave him a drink from a little pocket-flask. "Herky, if you think you've rid some in your day, look at thet hoss," said Bill, coolly, from the door.
"Bud, you'll drink or I'll drown you," I declared. So while Bill cracked hoarse jokes and Herky swore his pleasure, I made Bud drink all he could hold. Jim got a good deal of fun out of it, but Dick and Hiram never cracked a smile. Possibly the latter two saw something far from funny in the outlook; at any rate, they were silent, almost moody, and in a hurry to be off.
His keen little eyes gleamed, but he turned away without another word, and, slapping Target on the flank, rode off under the trees. I put the hat back on my head and watched Herky for a moment. His silence and abrupt manner were unlike him, but what struck me most was the fact that in our last talk every word had been clean and sincere. Somehow it pleased me.
"Thank you, Herky. I'll keep it, though I'd never need anything to make me remember Arizona or you." Herky swung his bow-legs over Target and I got astride the lean-backed pony. There did not seem to be any more to say, yet we both lingered. "Good-bye, Herky, I'm glad I met you," I said, offering my hand. He gave it a squeeze that nearly crushed my fingers.
I made Bill drink, and easily filled up Herky; but Bud, who never drank anything save whiskey, gave me a job. He refused with a growl, and I insisted with what I felt sure was Christian patience. Still he would not drink, so I put the cup to his lips and tipped it. Bud promptly spat the water all over me. And I as promptly got another cupful and dashed it all over him.
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