True to the Law Read Online Free PDF Page A

shifted again, and his eyes darted sideways. “I didn’t mean that. I figured you wouldn’t want to get caught here when winter sets in.”
    “You mean this isn’t it?”
    Walt’s laughter boomed. “This? A day like this is just a hint. Just a little ol’ hint.”
    “Then I’ll consider myself warned.” He touched his hat. “I’ll see you this evening, Walt.”
    “You will, Mr. Bridger. I’ll be bringing you your pie.”
    * * *
    Jefferson Collins found his spectacles on his forehead after looking for them on the counter, under the counter, and in all twelve of the cubbyholes on the wall behind the counter. He slid them down to his nose and regarded his grandsons over the wire rims.
    “You knew I was looking for them, didn’t you?”
    “I had a suspicion,” said Finn. As soon as he spoke, he lost his rhythm with the three leather beanbags he was trying to juggle. “Shucks.”
    “My turn,” said Rabbit.
    “That’s not fair. Pap made me miss.”
    “It’s fair. He asked a question and you answered and that’s what made you miss. It’s my turn.”
    “Boys.” The station agent’s voice was infused with equal parts impatience and affection. He told anyone who asked after his grandsons that they were the light of his life and the bane of his existence. It was not so long ago that they could be mistaken for twins, but Rabbit shot up around the time of his eleventh birthday and it seemed that now he towered over his younger brother. They were both still tow-headed, but Collins could see that Rabbit’s hair was darkening ever so slightly at the roots. Neither of the boys weighed much soaking wet, but there was a contrast between Finn’s sharp angles and Rabbit’s sturdier frame. There was no denying that Rabbit was filling out and growing up.
    The station agent was making peace with it. It was the way of things. Finn, though, did not like being left behind. Collins watched his younger grandson make as if he was going to throw the beanbags hard at his brother’s head, but Rabbit flinched, and that apparently was all Finn had been looking for. He tossed them underhand one at a time.
    Jeff Collins returned to his perch on the stool behind the station counter and checked his pocket watch. He had receipts to prepare for the crates and packages due to leave Bitter Springs on the next westbound train. He pushed aside the receipt book and set his forearms on the counter, clasping his hands together.
    “I haven’t heard yet why you were kept after school, Finn.”
    Finn did not look in his grandfather’s direction. He watched Rabbit carefully, willing his brother to miss just one toss. “Didn’t Rabbit tell you?”
    “I didn’t ask him. I thought it was your story to tell.”
    “Thought he might have told you anyway.”
    Not missing a beat, Rabbit said, “I’m not a tattletale.”
    “Only since you got to be eleven.” He stole a look at his grandfather. “You want a story or you want the truth?”
    “Sometimes they’re the same, but if there is a distinction in your mind, I’d like the truth.”
    “Well, the truth is I like talking to Miss Morrow.”
    “You do?”
    “Uh-huh. She’s nice, and she talks to me like I’m eleven.”
    “She does.”
    “Yep. Even though she says I shouldn’t be in a hurry to grow up.”
    “She’s got that right.”
    “Oh, she knows a whole lot of things. I suspect she’s right about most of them. Same as you.”
    “I’m right about all of them.”
    “Yes, sir. That’s what I meant to say.”
    Collins’s mouth twitched. “So I can tell your granny that you were late for afternoon chores because you preferred your teacher’s company.”
    Finn frowned deeply. “That’d be the truth,” he said slowly, “but I think Granny would take to a story better. Maybe you could tell her that I had chores to do at school. I will tomorrow. Miss Morrow asked me to help her clean slates, so I’ll be staying after again.”
    A beanbag thumped to the floor. “You