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Nothing happened and Ted sighed resignedly. Nels was one of those rare people who know enough about many things to do a pa.s.sable job. He could run water pipes and wires, build a stone wall, shingle a roof, tend a sick cow or horse, fell trees, construct a root cellar and do well any of a few dozen more things that might need doing. But he was apt to get sidetracked, in which event he needed a while to wake up. Obviously he was sidetracked now. Then the door opened and Nels stood behind Ted.
"The boss, he wants to see you."
"What's he want?"
"He forgot to say."
"Well--"
"He say right now."
"Will you take this pipe?"
"Oh! Yah, I take it."
Nels took the pipe and Ted went back into the lobby. He knocked on the office door, and Carl Thornton opened it.
"Come on in, Ted."
The boy stepped into the s.p.a.cious office. The floor was covered with a thick carpet. At one side was a mahogany desk upon which stood a typewriter. Over it were hung bookshelves. There were four cushioned chairs and a satiny davenport upon which the owner usually slept. In a wall rack were Thornton's high-powered rifle and a belt full of his distinctive, bra.s.s-jacketed, hand-loaded sh.e.l.ls. Ted turned to face his employer.
In his late thirties, Thornton was not slightly built. But there was about him an air of slightness that was accentuated by his quick movements. Thinning blond hair was artfully combed to hide a bald spot.
His eyes were pale blue, almost icy blue, behind gold-rimmed gla.s.ses.
The ghost of a smile haunted his lips. He had a flair for conversation that always made it appear as though nothing anyone else could say was nearly as important as what he had to offer.
"I've been watching your work, Ted, and I like it."
"Thanks, Mr. Thornton."
"There'll be a better job pretty soon; Crestwood's going to expand."
Ted's heart leaped. This was what he'd always wanted. "Thank you."
"A good man," Thornton said, "is not easily come by and I've learned the value of one. That's why I'm putting you on a special job right now."
"You are?" Ted's voice quivered eagerly.
"Yes. You're a pretty good deer hunter, aren't you?"
"I--I guess so."
"You know of those two bucks they call Damon and Pythias?"
"Everyone does."
Thornton said, "I want them."
"You--?"
"That's right. With those two heads on the wall--" Thornton shrugged.
"Crestwood would be mentioned in every paper in the state. If they're really records, there probably would be national publicity. In any event, they'll help bring guests here."
"But--n.o.body has even managed to get near those two bucks in hunting season."
Thornton looked shrewdly at him. "But before the season?"
"You mean?"
"That's just what I mean. Those two bucks don't go into hiding until after hunters take to the woods. I'm pretty sure that anyone who knew what he was doing could get both of them before the season opened. How about it?"
Ted said reluctantly, "It might be done."
"Good! Take all the time you need and I'll leave the details up to you.
If you're caught, of course you'll keep your mouth shut and I'll pay the fine. But I think you'll know how to go about it without getting caught.
Deliver both bucks to Crestwood--we'll arrange those details after you get them--and thereafter it's up to me. Good luck."
Ted heard himself saying, "No, Mr. Thornton."
Thornton looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"I can't do it."
"I've already told you that I'll pay your fine if you're caught."
"It isn't that."
"Then what is it? Does it make any difference if those bucks are shot now or six weeks from now?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Getting them now would be violating the law."
"Who doesn't violate the law? Considering the ma.s.s of laws we have, few people can live a single day without, intentionally or otherwise, running afoul of them. Have you ever looked up some of the crackpot laws, such as the one which states that, on Sunday, in this state, no horse shall wear other than a plain black harness?"
"It's not that."
"Ted, do you know anyone at all in the Mahela who lives up to the full letter of the game laws? Do you know anyone who doesn't take what he wants when he wants it, in season or out?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"My father and I."
There was an ominous silence. Thornton broke it.
"It seems that I've misjudged you."