"TXT - Louis L'Amour - Rivers West" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

"Are you going to stay among us, Mr. Talon?"
"I do not know," I said frankly. "I have come to this country because there seems to be opportunity. I am looking for honest work, success. Money, perhaps. I have heard they are building boats at Pittsburgh. I am a builder."
He nodded. "Good! Very good! We need builders, sir. We need them very much, but we need builders who build not only for themselves and for profit—and I certainly believe in profit—but for the future. Are you that kind of a builder, Mr. Talon?"
I hoped I was. Political matters of which this man spoke had never entered my life or my thinking. Nor had it ever seemed that the government of a people was any part of my consideration. Suddenly, uneasily, I began to realize that it might be ... that it was.
"I hope so, Mr. Tate."
"Exactly. You must remember, my friend, that if we leave the governing to others, then others will govern, and possibly not as we would like. In a country such as this, none of us is free of responsibility."
"Yes, sir."
"What I am getting at, Mr. Talon, is that you have inadvertently come upon something that may be of great importance, and in which you are already involved. It might be very helpful if you would keep an eye on the situation ... tactfully, of course."
"I don't see how I could do that. My immediate concern is to go west and find a job building boats for the western waters. I'm no politician."
He studied me for a moment, then shrugged. "So be it. However, young man, you find yourself involved. If what you have told me is true, the murderer of the young officer may be someone very close to you. He may suspect you have or had these papers. He may attempt murder to recover them.
"It has been said that the guilty flee when no man pursueth, Mr. Talon, but the guilty often suspect others of knowing more than they do. Your own life may be in jeopardy."
"I must risk that."
"And remember, sir, that whether or not you're a citizen of the United States, you cannot achieve success if there is turmoil or revolution or war. Good government is everybody's business."
I shrugged. "I know naught of government. I am just a builder."
He got to his feet. "I hope you continue to build, Mr. Talon. Good luck to you."
When I had closed the door behind me, I stood for a minute, pondering. There was much to what Tate had said. Good government was the responsibility of all. Even me, an alien and a stranger, if I was to make my home here.
Jambe-de-Bois was waiting outside the inn soaking up the morning sunlight. He squinted up at me, one lid half-lowered. "They left. Rode off down the road."
"They?"
"Macklem and them. He asked about you."
Macklem was gone, yet how far had he gone? It was not him so much as the snake-eyed man of whom I thought. Were they a team? Or did they, like Jambe-de-Bois and myself, simply travel together?
My thoughts returned to my tools. Perhaps I should get a horse or a mule ... or a horse and a mule.
The tools had grown very heavy, and the distance was far. Yet, if I could reach a river, I could put together my own boat and float down to Pittsburgh or its vicinity. I had only a general idea of where Pittsburgh was.
I considered my finances and decided we'd walk.
Then I saw the girl.
CHAPTER 4
She was young, she was lovely, and she was riding a spirited chestnut gelding that she handled with superlative ease. Beside her rode two men.
One was middle aged and stalwart of build, a man with sandy hair now going gray, a broad face, a hard jaw line, and the look about him of a Scotsman.
The second man was young and good-looking, though not in the most robust way. Both men were armed; both rode good horses.
They came right up to the inn door, and the girl looked at me, right straight at me. "Young man, may I speak to the host, please?"
Something in her supercilious manner annoyed me. "You may if you like," I said quietly. "He's right inside."
Her face flushed ever so slightly—I was not sure whether from embarrassment or anger.
"Would you call him for me, please?"
"Of course." Put that way, how could I refuse?
Stepping inside the inn, I called out, "Mr. Tate? A lady to see you."
He came to the door, and his broad face immediately broke into a smile. "Miss Majoribanks! A pleasure! Would you step down, please? We'll have a bit of something put on for you."
He held up a hand for her, and she stepped down, lightly, gracefully, gathering her skirt as she moved to the door.
"Have you heard from your brother, Miss Majoribanks?"
She stopped. "No, Mr. Tate, I have not. That is why I am here."
She passed inside, and he followed. Her two companions dismounted, the older one throwing first me a quick glance that seemed to measure me completely and then the same for Jambe-de-Bois. On Jambe, his eyes lingered.
The younger companion got down also. "If you ask me," he said to the older man, "this is a fool's errand. If Charles were alive, he would have returned, and if he is not alive, what good can we do?"
"He is her brother," the older man replied stiffly. "She will do what she can, as her father would have done."
"I still say it is foolish."
"Perhaps, but she will do as she pleases, you know that. And if I were you I'd not try to dissuade her." He shrugged. "I tried, for all the good it did me. She will not listen."
They tied their horses and hers to the hitching rail and went inside. I knew not what to do. I had never seen a girl who made me want to look again as this one had.
Their words I barely heard. I simply knew I had to look upon this girl once more.
Perhaps she lived not far away, for she was known to Simon Tate. Perhaps she stopped here often. It was a sparsely settled area, with many fields, meadows, and running streams.
On an impulse, I entered the common room and sat at a table near the window. Tate glanced at me, a little surprised. The lady and her friends sat with their backs to me. I ordered a glass of cider merely for an excuse to look at the girl again.
She was talking.
"Mr. Tate, the last we heard from Charles was from St. Louis. He was planning to go up the Missouri—that's a river out there—with a group of government men, scientists or surveyors or something. That was months ago."
"You must understand," Tate suggested, "that mails are slow, and the expedition may still be safe."