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And the fact that Truman's tormentors did not see themselves as such and believed that they were acting in his best interests and that they were catering to his every need does not absolve them from their crimes. Truman should have maintained a fine balance between his responsibility to the show, its creators and its viewers and his natural drive to get back at his tormentors.
Earlier in the campaign every man would have felt the thrill of coming excitement, a chase, a brush of some kind, perhaps, but now all were weak and weary. Even the Patlanders in Truman's troop, men of whom it had often been said that they'd rather fight than eat, were no more full of fight to-day than they were of food.
As a result of all the anxiety surrounding the possibility of a failure of the test, a verse by an unknown author circulated around Los Alamos. It read: From this crude lab that spawned a dud. Their necks to Truman's ax uncurled Lo, the embattled savants stood, and fired the flop heard round the world.
The Indian lad had shaken his head and declared he knew nothing. The girl was dumb. Mrs. Bridger happened in a moment later, coming down with Mrs. Sanders to see how the strange patient was progressing. They stood in silence a moment, listening to Truman's murmured words. Then Mrs. Bridger suddenly spoke. "Ask her if she knows Natzie's cave," said she.
He knew that iron box in Truman's care contained papers, letters, or something of deep interest to her. He knew full well now that, at some time in the not far distant past, Blakely himself had been of deep interest to her and she to Blakely.
If it hadn't been for two things, Rodney Gray would have been as happy as a boy ever gets to be. He was among friends, the very ones, too, he wanted to find, and from that time on he could appear in his true character; but he trembled for his friend and for the safety of Mr. Truman's property.
Truman's true love in the Show tried to do it. She paid the price: she was ousted from the show. But she tried to provide Truman with a choice. It is not sufficient to say the right things and make the right moves. All the actors who played Truman's parents, loving wife, friends and colleagues, miserably failed on this score.
Long before that hour, as though by common impulse, almost all the women of the garrison had gathered about Truman's quarters, now the northernmost of the row and in plain view of the confluence of the Sandy and the Beaver. Dr. Graham, who had been swinging to and fro between the limits of the Shaughnessys' and the hospital, stopped to speak with them a moment and gently drew Angela to one side.
Off to the west the great dust-cloud is slowly settling to earth, and through it Truman's men, in perfect order, with carbines advanced, can be seen moving by the flank, but interposing ever between the village and the captured herds. Cranston, easily reining his pawing charger, sits facing the reforming centre of his panting line.
"How long has he been gone?" inquired Tom, who was as impatient to leave the house and take to the woods as Rodney was. Mr. Truman couldn't say as to that; probably two hours at least. That was long enough for him to tell a good many Union men that there was a Confederate in Truman's house, and the boys began to be really alarmed.
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