Collection 1997 - End Of The Drive (v5.0) Read Online Free PDF Page A

that can use up a sight of energy.”
    â€œI suppose so,” he said doubtfully. After a moment or two, he asked, “By the way, Marshal, were you ever in Mobeetie?”
    By that time most of that great blank space on the mountainside had grown up to grass, and it grew greenest and thickest right where Brother Elisha walked, and that caused more talk.
    Not in all this time had Brother Elisha been seen to take on any nourishment, not a bite of anything, nor to drink, except water from the well.
    When Sunday came around again the only two in church were Brennen and me, but Brennen was there, all slicked up mighty like a winning gambler, and when the reverend’s wife passed the plate, Brennen dropped in a twenty-dollar gold piece. Also, I’d heard he’d had a big package of groceries delivered around to the one-room log parsonage.
    The town was talking of nothing but Brother Elisha, and it was getting so a man couldn’t breathe the air around there, it was so filled with sanctified hypocrisy. You never saw such a bunch of overnight gospel-shouters.
    Now I can’t claim to be what you’d call a religious man, yet I’ve a respect for religion, and when a man lives out his life under the sun and the stars, half the time riding alone over mountains and desert, then he usually has a religion although it may not be the usual variety. Moreover, I had a respect for the reverend.
    Brennen had his say about Brother Elisha, but I never did, although there was something about him that didn’t quite tally.
    Then the miracle happened.
    It was a Saturday morning and Ed Colvin was shingling the new livery barn, and in a town the size of Red Horse nobody could get away from the sound of that hammer, not that we cared, or minded the sound. Only it was always with us.
    And then suddenly we didn’t hear it anymore.
    Now it wasn’t noontime, and Ed was a working sort of man, as we’d discovered in the two months he’d been in town. It was not likely he’d be quitting so early.
    â€œGone after lumber,” I suggested.
    â€œHe told me this morning,” Brace said, “that he had enough laid by to last him two days. He was way behind and didn’t figure on quitting until lunchtime.”
    â€œWait,” I said, “we’ll hear it again.”
    Only when some time passed and we heard nothing we started for the barn. Ed had been working mighty close to the peak of what was an unusually steep roof.
    We found him lying on the ground and there was blood on his head and we sent for the doc.
    Now Doc McDonald ain’t the greatest doctor, but he was all we had aside from the midwife and a squaw up in the hills who knew herbs. The doc was drunk most of the time these days and showing up with plenty of money, so’s it had been weeks since he’d been sober.
    Doc came over, just weaving a mite, and almost as steady as he usually is when sober. He knelt by Ed Colvin and looked him over. He listened for a heartbeat and he held a mirror over his mouth, and he got up and brushed off his knees. “What’s all the rush for? This man is dead!”
    We carried him to Doc’s place, Doc being the undertaker, too, and we laid him out on the table in his back room. Ed’s face was dead white except for the blood, and he stared unblinking until the doc closed his eyes.
    We walked back to the saloon feeling low. We’d not known Ed too well, but he was a quiet man and a good worker, and we needed such men around our town. Seemed a shame for him to go when there were others, mentioning no names, who meant less to the town.
    That was the way it was until Brother Elisha came down off the mountain. He came with long strides, staring straight before him, his face flushed with happiness that seemed always with him these days. He was abreast of the saloon when he suddenly stopped.
    It was the first time he had ever stopped to speak to anyone, aside from his