for Gallup.â
âGood thinking, Junior.â
âBut it never did,â he said, staring into his plate. âIt only accelerated.â
âLay asides can be unpredictable,â Hook said. âOne time I rode a coal car clean to Winnipeg, Canada, before she stopped.â
Junior nodded. âAnd then we went by these stock cars filled with cattle.â He ran his fingers through his hair. âThe thing is, they urinated just as we passed.â
âUrinated, you say?â
He nodded. âCollectively, as if premeditated.â
âWell, you can never be certain what cows are thinking,â Hook said.
The pancakes arrived, and both fell silent as they slathered on butter.
Hook held up his knife. âYou mind if we get to the jail part now, Junior?â
Junior shoved large portions of pancake into his mouth as he gathered up his story.
âSo Iâm thinking perhaps I made a serious mistake not jumping when I had the opportunity. But then again, perhaps the train would slow enough when we came to the bus. I calculated that the road couldnât be that far off.â
Hook poured syrup over his cakes. âThe jail, Junior? I got pressing matters.â
Junior laid down his fork and stared off into space. âWe shot past that bus so fast I could barely see it. We must have been going seventy miles an hour.
âIn the end, I didnât get off until the train stopped in Fort Defiance. I walked all the way back to the bus and discovered the keys under the seat. Though the bus was in a state of disrepair, I thought it only logical that I attempt to drive it back.â
âThe jail, Junior.â
âApparently the bus belongs to the bridge and building foreman, who had parked it there while attending a job in Amarillo. Heâd requested the police to keep an eye on it.
âWhen I arrived in town, I was promptly arrested for stealing railroad equipment. I explained to the deputy that I was in fact a real railroad detective, that I had been directed to remove the bus by railroad officials.â
âHe didnât believe you?â Hook asked.
âHe said he was a real cop, too, and would be directing me straight to jail.â
Hook leveled his prosthesis at Junior. âItâs the job of yard dogs to put other people in jail. Theyâre not supposed to be put in jail themselves.â
âYes, sir.â
âA yard dog has to set an example, be an ideal citizen, so to speak. He canât go around getting picked up by the authorities. His life has to be whistle-clean and his integrity beyond question.â
âIâm sorry, sir. Had I knownâ¦â
âBeing put in jail cast the company in a bad light. You donât want that.â
âI can do better. I promise.â
Hook pushed his plate aside.
Junior cupped his elbows in his hands. âAre you going to release me, Hook? Iâm afraid my father will not understand.â
Hook twisted his mouth to the side. âIâm prepared to give this a second chance, Junior, though I do so with considerable doubt.â
âI wonât disappoint you a second time. I promise.â
âThing is, I found a boy hanging off the potash wigwag. He might have been a murder victim.â
Juniorâs eyes widened. âMurder?â
âPossible. Turns out heâd been scabbing, and hard feelings had developed among the signal crew. The coroner found a Bronze Star around his neck with the name Samuel Ash engraved on it. So far, itâs the only lead I have.â
âA war hero?â
âI want you to go back to Clovis and see if you can find out anything about this Samuel Ash.â
âWhere should I begin the investigation?â
âWhere the answers are, Junior. In the meantime, Iâll see if I can clear the air around here.â
âYes, sir, butâ¦â
âBut what?â
âDo I have to jump on another train? Perhaps you
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham