Then Bill appeared on the
wall above, and began to throw down firewood. Bud returned from the canyon,
where he had driven the horses. Greaser sat on a stone puffing a cigarette.
It was the first time I had taken a good look at him. He was smaller than I
had fancied; his feet and hands and features resembled those of a woman,
but his eyes were live coals of black fire. In the daylight I was not in
the least afraid of him.
Herky-Jerky was the most interesting one of our captors. He had a short,
stocky figure, and was the most bow-legged man I ever saw. Never on earth
could he have stopped a pig in a lane. A stubby beard covered the lower
half of his brick-red face. The most striking thing about Herky-Jerky,
however, was his perpetual grin. He looked very jolly, yet every time he
opened his mouth it was to utter bad language. He cursed the fire, the
pans, the coffee, the biscuits, all of which he handled most skillfully. It
was disgusting, and yet aside from this I rather liked him.
It grew dark very quickly while we were eating, and the wind that dipped
down into the gorge was cold. I kept edging closer and closer to the
blazing campfire. I had never tasted venison before, and rather disliked it
at first. But I soon cultivated a liking for it.
That night Stockton tied me securely, but in a way which made it easy for
me to turn.
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