"Joe Haldeman - Guardian" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Joe)

"He said you had fantasies about that. You're a dangerous woman. You belong in
jail."
"If I belong in jail," I said, "why don't you have an actual policeman along with
you?"
"I have the authority—"
I cut him off. "In fact, why don't you and I go down to the sheriffs office and talk
about this? I've known him for some years. We sing in the choir together."
That was the last word of mine he heard. Daniel had crept up behind him with a
poker from the fireplace, and brought it down on his head with great force. He fell like a
tree, the back of his head spouting blood.
"Daniel!"
"I didn't kill him. At least I don't think so." He turned the man over and put an ear
to his chest. "Heart's beating."
My mind was spinning, but I did fasten upon a plan, a mad plan. "Rope. Let's tie
him up and gag him. It could buy us enough time to get away."
We didn't have coils of rope lying around the house. The man next door had
horses, though, and wasn't home, so Daniel "borrowed" a length of leather strap. We tied
the Pinkerton man's hands behind his back, and his feet together, and put a tight gag
around his mouth. Then we dragged him to the unused bedroom and Daniel locked him
inside by kicking a wedge of wood under the door.
Daniel took his pistol. That would have interesting consequences.
I sent him running down to the station to get a cabriolet while I stuffed our trunks
with clothes and then got the golden eagles from their hiding place, whispering a prayer
of thanks to the raven.
 The stationmaster was curious and concerned; I taught his son and daughter, and
since this was Sunday, I would obviously be missing school for a day or more. I asked
him to pass on word that I had a sister in Kansas City who'd had a stroke, and would
telegraph as soon as I knew what was happening. Later I realized how flimsy that story
was; the stationmaster had probably told the Pinkerton man where I lived, and then I
suddenly showed up with all my worldly goods. Perhaps he didn't like policemen.
We wanted the first train to anywhere, of course, which meant Hays City, in
ninety minutes. Daniel went back to guard the man while I waited at the station. It was
only a five-minute bicycle ride for him; he would come as soon as he heard the train's
whistle.
He told me he watched the man for an hour and he never moved. I never pressed
him about it.
I only booked us through to Kansas City, figuring that we'd be harder to trace if
we bought one ticket at a time. Waiting for the train to Hays and K.C., I went through the
timetables and made a list.
Denver. San Francisco. Seattle. Sitka. Skagway. My boy would have his dream of
the Yukon. Where Edward could never find him.
If the man had freed himself and got a fast horse, he might have caught us waiting
in Hays. When we got there, I sat on the bench outside the station, clutching the bag that
held his pistol, not sure what I would do if he came riding up full of fury.
At that time of my life, I was not sure whether I would be capable of violence.
With the benefit of hindsight, I'm certain that I would have overcome lovingkindness and
fear of God, and blown him off his horse, or at least tried. But I was not put to the test.
The train pulled up at Hays on time and we started to put on miles.
Our most potent enemy was the telegraph. (It would be years before long-distance
telephoning was common in the West.) If the Pinkerton man had gotten free, certainly his