"He's terribly drunk."
Hauck nodded his head--he kept nodding it, that cold glitter in his
eyes, the steady, insinuating grin still there.
"Yes, he's drunk," he said, his voice as hard as a rock. "Better come to
the house. I've got a room for you. There's only one bunk in
here--McKenna."
He dragged out the name slowly, a bit tauntingly it seemed to David.
And David laughed. Might as well play his last card well, he thought.
"My name isn't McKenna," he said. "It's David Raine. He made a mistake,
and he's so drunk I haven't been able to explain."
Without answering, Hauck backed out of the door. It was an invitation
for David to follow. Again he carried his pack and gun with him through
the darkness, and Hauck uttered not a word as they returned to the Nest.
The night was brighter now, and David could see Baree close at his
heels, following him as silently as a shadow. The dog slunk out of sight
when they came to the building. They did not enter from the rear this
time. Hauck led the way to a door that opened into the big room from
which had come the sound of cursing and laughter a little before. There
were ten or a dozen men in that room, all white men, and, upon entering,
David was moved by a sudden suspicion that they were expecting him--that
Hauck had prepared them for his appearance.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299