The Range Wolf by Andrew J. Fenady

still the standing offer of Pepper’s arsenal.
    Something to think about. But at that time I was thinking about something else.
    Someone else.
    I knocked on the door of the wagon.
    â€œCome in. Come in.”
    I entered and closed the door behind me. The interior was dimly lit.
    Dr. Picard sat at a table about to open an untapped bottle of whiskey. Flaxen Brewster lay in the bunk, delirious . . . muttering indistinctively.
    â€œYes. Do come in, Mr. Guthrie. I was just about to have my first drink since you joined the drive.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œTo celebrate.”
    â€œHer recovery?”
    Dr. Picard uncorked the whiskey bottle and smiled a confidential smile.
    â€œNo. But she will recover.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œI was about to celebrate the fact that for once . . . Wolf Riker was wrong.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    The doctor ceased smiling, lifted the bottle off the table, and pointed it toward Flaxen.
    â€œCall her name.”
    I moved closer to her.
    â€œFlaxen . . . Flaxen . . . it’s Christopher . . . Christopher Guthrie. Can you hear me?”
    Her maundering became less halting and more distinguishable.
    â€œMr. Guthrie . . . please, Mr. Guthrie . . . you won’t testify against us . . . you have your wallet back . . . the police . . . It’ll mean prison . . . please . . . my father and I . . .”
    Dr. Picard poured a drink into a tumbler and set the bottle on the table.
    â€œSo, the omniscient Wolf Riker was wrong . . . about her being a lady. It is ironic, isn’t it?”
    â€œDr. Picard . . .”
    â€œWhat I saved is a thief.”
    His hand moved toward the tumbler; but I moved quicker and slid the glass away from him.
    â€œThe point is you saved her. Listen to me.”
    â€œI’m listening.”
    â€œBecause of your skill a human life will go on living. Yes, Doctor, you saved her . . . and in a way I think she helped you.”
    â€œI see what you mean,” Dr. Picard nodded. “Riker can’t say that all my patients die.”
    â€œNo. He can’t.”
    â€œBut . . . why the ring? The engagement ring on her finger. Why the fairy tale about her being your fiancée?”
    â€œRiker called her a piece of fluff. What else might have followed if he, and the rest of them, knew the circumstances of our . . . meeting? I thought the ring and the ‘fairy tale’ as you call it, might put her in a more beneficent light. I . . .”
    â€œBut the ring? Where . . .”
    â€œMy mother’s. A keepsake.”
    â€œQuite a gesture, Mr. Guthrie . . . a beau geste. ”
    â€œAnd you, Dr. Picard, since you’ve saved her life, will you do something else for her? As far as Wolf Riker, and everyone else is concerned, Flaxen Brewster is my fiancée.”
    â€œBut when he finds out that she’s not . . .”
    â€œHe doesn’t have to find out anything. Neither does anyone else on this drive.”
    â€œThey’ll find out. There are no secrets . . .”
    â€œNo, they won’t. Not from me . . . or you.”
    â€œBut when she recovers she’ll . . .”
    â€œWhen she recovers, I’ll talk to her, we both will. It’ll be all right. Let’s leave her some dignity.”
    â€œDignity. I haven’t heard . . . or even thought about that word in a long time. You know, Mr. Guthrie, there is something sympathique between us. Now I’d be pleased if you’d do me a favor.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    Dr. Picard pointed at the table.
    â€œPour the whiskey in that glass . . . back into that bottle.”
    â€œDo it yourself, doctor,” I smiled. “Your hand is certainly steady enough.”
    â€œYes.” He grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Guthrie.”
    â€œThank you, doctor.”

CHAPTER XXII
    It was the kind of morning writers write about. Livid. Limitless. The invitation to a perfect day. But I had had no time to make even a