Joseph.”
“Good man,” M’Carty called from the bed. “I’m nearly plumb out of whiskey.”
Cocumb sniffed in disapproval and then turned to me. “Come and have some tea,” she offered.
“Thank you very much. That would be lovely.”
Cocumb set out tea and freshly made biscuits. I eyed M’Carty’s miserable form on the bed. “How did M’Carty break his leg?”
M’Carty groaned dramatically.
Cocumb rolled her eyes. “My husband wanted to fix roof himself.”
“I could do it, too!” he complained from the bed.
She and I exchanged a meaningful glance and laughed.
“I wanted you to meet my daughter,” Cocumb said. “But I sent her to stay at my father’s lodge because my husband is so much work,” she finished, with a rueful glance at M’Carty.
“What brings you out here, Miss Peck?” M’Carty asked. “Looking to hire another schooner? ’Cause I don’t recommend waiting much longer if you’ve got oysters to send to San Francisco. I’ve got a feeling that winter’s gonna come early this year. Now, it’s just a feeling, mind you, but I’m usually right about these sorts of things.”
Jehu’s figure suddenly filled the doorway, and I remembered why I had come.
“Actually,” I said, marshaling my voice. “Actually, I won’t be requiring a schooner.” I swallowed hard. “I came to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Keer-ukso repeated.
“Yes,” I said quickly, before my courage disappeared. “There’s a schooner leaving this afternoon bound for San Francisco. I’m going home.”
“But how can you pay the fare?” Jehu asked bluntly.
He was so irritating. “My financial affairs are none of your concern.”
“Everyone knows Swan gambled away your money.”
“This is how I’m paying for my fare,” I said in frustration, thrusting out the watch.
Jehu snatched it out of my hand, inspecting it closely. “Who gave this to you?”
“A gentleman gave it to me.”
He took a step forward, his eyes turning dark, like the sky over the bay before a storm. “There aren’t any gentlemen out here.”
“You are most certainly correct on that count, Mr. Scudder,” I said, glaring right back at him. “But I assure you, Mr. Abraham Black was a gentleman in all respects.”
“Abraham Black?” M’Carty croaked hoarsely from his bed.
“Oh, then you are acquainted with Mr. Black?” I asked eagerly. “Isn’t he perfectly charming? It was so refreshing—”
“Where is he now?” M’Carty demanded, pulling himself up and hobbling over using a thick cane, pain etched on his face from the effort.
“Why, I have no idea. He left yesterday.”
“Did he say where he was from?” he asked anxiously.
“California, I believe.”
“What did he look like?”
“Well, he was about your height, with trim gray hair. He wore a neat black suit.”
“Jane,” M’Carty asked urgently, “did you tell him where Russell went?”
I didn’t understand why M’Carty was so upset. “I told him that Mr. Russell and Mr. Swan had gone to the rendezvous with Governor Stevens.”
“Oh Lordy.”
“What?”
M’Carty slumped against the wall, his face white. “He’s going to kill Russell,” he whispered.
CHAPTER TEN
or,
M’Carty’s Strange Story
After his startling announcement , M’Carty promptly collapsed on the cabin floor with a groan.
Cocumb shook her head at him. “Bed,” she said firmly. She waved an imperious hand, and Keer-ukso and Jehu hauled M’Carty up and carried him to the bed between them.
“What do you mean, he’s going to kill Mr. Russell?” I asked, joining the crowd over at the bed.
“Help me sit up, woman,” M’Carty groaned to Cocumb, his face strained with pain.
“You are more stubborn than a dog stuck in mud,” she said, propping pillows behind him.
M’Carty breathed hard from the exertion of sitting up.
“Mr. Black didn’t even know who Mr. Russell was,” I said.
M’Carty eyed me sharply. “Oh, he knows Russell, all right.
“Good man,” M’Carty called from the bed. “I’m nearly plumb out of whiskey.”
Cocumb sniffed in disapproval and then turned to me. “Come and have some tea,” she offered.
“Thank you very much. That would be lovely.”
Cocumb set out tea and freshly made biscuits. I eyed M’Carty’s miserable form on the bed. “How did M’Carty break his leg?”
M’Carty groaned dramatically.
Cocumb rolled her eyes. “My husband wanted to fix roof himself.”
“I could do it, too!” he complained from the bed.
She and I exchanged a meaningful glance and laughed.
“I wanted you to meet my daughter,” Cocumb said. “But I sent her to stay at my father’s lodge because my husband is so much work,” she finished, with a rueful glance at M’Carty.
“What brings you out here, Miss Peck?” M’Carty asked. “Looking to hire another schooner? ’Cause I don’t recommend waiting much longer if you’ve got oysters to send to San Francisco. I’ve got a feeling that winter’s gonna come early this year. Now, it’s just a feeling, mind you, but I’m usually right about these sorts of things.”
Jehu’s figure suddenly filled the doorway, and I remembered why I had come.
“Actually,” I said, marshaling my voice. “Actually, I won’t be requiring a schooner.” I swallowed hard. “I came to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Keer-ukso repeated.
“Yes,” I said quickly, before my courage disappeared. “There’s a schooner leaving this afternoon bound for San Francisco. I’m going home.”
“But how can you pay the fare?” Jehu asked bluntly.
He was so irritating. “My financial affairs are none of your concern.”
“Everyone knows Swan gambled away your money.”
“This is how I’m paying for my fare,” I said in frustration, thrusting out the watch.
Jehu snatched it out of my hand, inspecting it closely. “Who gave this to you?”
“A gentleman gave it to me.”
He took a step forward, his eyes turning dark, like the sky over the bay before a storm. “There aren’t any gentlemen out here.”
“You are most certainly correct on that count, Mr. Scudder,” I said, glaring right back at him. “But I assure you, Mr. Abraham Black was a gentleman in all respects.”
“Abraham Black?” M’Carty croaked hoarsely from his bed.
“Oh, then you are acquainted with Mr. Black?” I asked eagerly. “Isn’t he perfectly charming? It was so refreshing—”
“Where is he now?” M’Carty demanded, pulling himself up and hobbling over using a thick cane, pain etched on his face from the effort.
“Why, I have no idea. He left yesterday.”
“Did he say where he was from?” he asked anxiously.
“California, I believe.”
“What did he look like?”
“Well, he was about your height, with trim gray hair. He wore a neat black suit.”
“Jane,” M’Carty asked urgently, “did you tell him where Russell went?”
I didn’t understand why M’Carty was so upset. “I told him that Mr. Russell and Mr. Swan had gone to the rendezvous with Governor Stevens.”
“Oh Lordy.”
“What?”
M’Carty slumped against the wall, his face white. “He’s going to kill Russell,” he whispered.
CHAPTER TEN
or,
M’Carty’s Strange Story
After his startling announcement , M’Carty promptly collapsed on the cabin floor with a groan.
Cocumb shook her head at him. “Bed,” she said firmly. She waved an imperious hand, and Keer-ukso and Jehu hauled M’Carty up and carried him to the bed between them.
“What do you mean, he’s going to kill Mr. Russell?” I asked, joining the crowd over at the bed.
“Help me sit up, woman,” M’Carty groaned to Cocumb, his face strained with pain.
“You are more stubborn than a dog stuck in mud,” she said, propping pillows behind him.
M’Carty breathed hard from the exertion of sitting up.
“Mr. Black didn’t even know who Mr. Russell was,” I said.
M’Carty eyed me sharply. “Oh, he knows Russell, all right.
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