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Sergeant Crawford circled the adobe stockade one last time.
Major Norton walked across the brick-colored ground toward him, adjusting his white scarf. "I've been going over this business in my mind, sergeant," he said.
"Yes, sir?" Crawford stopped and faced his superior officer.
"Perhaps it would be better if I gave you a squad of men to accompany you."
Crawford shifted his grip on his Springfield rifle. "They'd only get in the way, major."
"Remember," reminded Norton, "it took four men to get Morisson locked up in the first place."
The sergeant smiled his thin smile. "I think I can handle him."
"I don't like to see you endanger yourself unnecessarily," said Major Norton. "You're retiring in....how soon is it?"
"Two months, sir."
"Two months," replied the major. "Not a time to take too many risks, Crawford."
"Those two prisoners," said Crawford, "were my responsibility. I have my reputation to protect, sir."
The major shuffled a booted foot in the orange-red soil. "Did searching their cell and the stockade area turn up any clues as to where they might have gone?"
"No, but I had to make sure," answered Crawford. "I have a pretty fair notion as to where Morisson will head. And since Robinson is chained to him he won't have much choice but to go along."
Above the thick adobe walls of the fort compound, looking cool and green in the hot morning, rose the distant mountains. "You think the giant will go back into the hills?"
"It's the only place he feels at home," said Crawford. "Besides, he may have the gold he murdered Logan Brock for hidden up there somewhere."
"If there is any gold."
"I'll find that out."
Major Norton said, "This may be a very dangerous time to go into the mountains, sergeant. Despite Chief Pahana's professions of friendship, a good many Ute raiding parties are roaming."
"I think I'm a match for them." He turned towards the stables where his mount was being saddled by a dusty, bearded private.
"Morisson is a man you'll have to be very careful with, sergeant. A dangerous madman."
"No, sir, he's not smart enough to be crazy. I handled him before, I'll handle him again when I catch up to him." He began moving in the direction of the stables.
Beside him, Major Norton said, "This man Robinson. The State Department wants him, sergeant. They want him back alive. As for Morisson----do whatever you must in his case."
"I plan to," said the sergeant.186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ugOAfQuL4
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The large rock whizzed down again. It struck the chain hard.
Morisson, crouching, made a low yowling sound. His hammering was having zero effect on the links of the chain. Now his manacled wrist was bleeding, painful.
"Fire does not put out water," said the patient, kneeling Robinson. "Stone will not break a chain."
"You talk crazier than anybody I ever run into." The huge man let the stone drop to the mossy ground. "I don't understand half of what you say---Anyhow, I get me another idea about what we can do 'bout this."
They were higher up now, into the mountain forest. Tall fir trees and pines stretched up over a hundred feet, surrounding them. There was a green coolness all around.
"And my ankle hurts too," complained Morisson. "It's all mucked up an' bloody. That's your fault, too. If I didn't have to drag you along with me this thing wouldn't be botherin' me all the time."
Robinson remained silent.
"I'm hungry," continued the huge Morisson. "You it don't bother. You can live on air and that junk in your sack. But I'm starvin'----at least if I was at the fort they'd feed me good."
Robinson glanced around. "Come," he said.
"I ain't ready to move on yet."
"Come," the lanky young man said again. He stood. The giant was pulled along with him.
"Easy on my wrist."
Robinson moved through the trees and Morisson, growling, followed.
"Here," said Robinson after a moment, nodding at a scallop-leafed plant..
"What's that?"
"We can eat these leaves," he explained, picking a dozen. "It will make a meal and....yes, salmon-berries up the slope, and pine nuts."
"I ain't no squirrel," protested Morisson. "I want beef. Back at the fort they...."
"We are at the fort no longer," said Robinson. "We are here. When you were at Fort Lonestar, whatever you may have had, you did not have your freedom. Now eat."
"Freedom? Chained to a crazy-talkin' hill?" Reluctantly the giant extended his good hand and took the proffered leaves and nuts. "How do you eat this?"
"The same way you eat any food."
Morisson scowled. "You eat this kind of stuff? For real?"
"I've lived in many places, on many things."
Morisson shoved a handful into his mouth and began chewing slowly.
"Further on," said Robinson, we should find cattail roots."
Morisson went on chewing.186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZMMI8v9lwe
