Читать книгу Below the Salt - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 9

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For a half hour the private plane, which had met John at the airport, had flown over wide plains with ridges of clay-red hills cutting them into segments and small streams twisting and turning through them like purple snakes on the dull brown of the land. Then the plane took a sharp dip and began to make a turn, finally coming down on a concrete landing strip with a small hangar at the end. The roof of a wide and gracious house could be seen back of the hangar. From the position of the sun, it was probably five in the afternoon.

A servant escorted John to the house. They crossed a stone-flagged patio where three men were stretched out in long roller chairs, each with a drink in his hand. All three looked at him intently, then nodded and said, “Good afternoon,” as he passed them. A woman with auburn hair and a complexion that was almost a youthful pink met him inside the house.

“You Mr. Foraday?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She shook his hand in a forthright way. “You’re just in time to have a bath and get over to the senator’s special hide-out. A sandwich now would hold you until you get there and share his late dinner. I think he would like you to do that. But if you need a rest, you can have dinner here and go over in the morning.”

“I’ll go now,” decided John. “And I think I would like the sandwich.”

“And a drink, I suppose.”

“No, ma’am. I don’t drink.”

She turned and looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Godalmighty!” she said. “I’ve watched the dear younger generation at their play and I find this hard to believe. Are you doing this on a bet or something? Well, of course, you’re young. You’ll soon learn. And it’s just as well you’re not going to stay here and have dinner with those three ex-grand masters of the Bone Pickers Union out there on the patio. Give them that much time and they would get everything out of you. Your life story and why you are here and what it’s all about anyway.”

John gave an involuntary look back over his shoulder and could see two of the recumbent figures. They were men of middle age, well groomed, intelligent and square of jaw, even rather pleasant as to expression.

“Yes, they’re good fellows, all of them. I’ll introduce you to them before you leave. One is Captain Jastrow, who has charge of all the senator’s land and herds. One is Seth Silliman, his political secretary. The third is a lawyer named Al Curwood, who does the legal work. They’re loyal and reasonably honest but the senator hasn’t a relative in the world and they don’t like the idea of strangers trespassing on their preserves. Any fingers that came dipping into the pie would get cut off if these Excluders of Other Heirs caught ’em at it.”

“But,” protested John, “I’m not an heir. I don’t know why I’ve been brought out here.”

“You seem to be a nice modest boy,” said the woman, giving him an approving pat on the cheek. “I’m going to like you. In fact I’m kind of fond of you already. By the way, I’m Amy Shirley and I’m the senator’s common or working secretary. I’m a career woman, young Mr. Foraday, and I enjoy my work. You’ll have to ride to get to the place in the hills. The report on you, which I cast an eye on with a great deal of interest, says you’ve never been in a saddle. Think you can manage it?”

John smiled doubtfully. “I guess there’s no way out of it, is there?”

“None,” said Miss Shirley. “A few weeks here and you’ll be riding like another Roy Rogers. With your air of innocence and that hair, Red Cloud, you may go and get yourself drafted into the movies.”

John stared at her. “Say, that’s odd. I mean you calling me Red Cloud. When I was at high school, I belonged to a little group of fellows, and they started calling me Red Cloud.”

“It’ll get shortened to Red out here. All right now, Red, you’ll want a bath first, I reckon.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Just time for a quick splash. A beef sandwich and a pot of iced tea will be waiting for you here. And I’ll be here too. I don’t intend to give those three killer hawks a chance at you yet.”

Below the Salt

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