They hadn’t traveled very long when a gaunt man stepped out from behind a tree and blocked their path. He was wearing a patched pair of pants held up by dirty suspenders, and his frayed shirt was nothing more than the top of a pair of long johns. He had long, wispy, white hair accenting a lengthy white beard. On his head sat a battered brown hat. No jacket. No gloves.
Mona’s attention, though, was focused on the man’s ankle-length deerskin moccasins and the evil-looking, double barrel shotgun he held sideways pressed against his chest, not to mention the knapsack hanging on his hip. “Need help, mister?” Althea asked. “I’m a nurse from the Frontier Nursing Station.”
“Watch yer dog, lady,” the man said, referring to Freddy who was baring his teeth and growling. “I hate to see such a fine animal hurt.”
“Freddy, behave,” Althea snapped. “What do you want?”
“You got some ‘backer?’” he asked in a heavy twang.
“You asking or robbing?” Althea shot back.
The man smiled. “Asking neighborly. If I was holding you up, my baby would be pointed atcha.” He patted his gun.
Farley rode up and pulled a pouch of tobacco from his saddlebag. Tossing it to the man, he asked, “How’s the trail further up?”
The man took a pinch of tobacco and began chewing it while putting the pouch in his knapsack. “Get’s muddier as you get to the top of the ridge. Y’all lookin’ for sumthin’?”
“We’re a team from the University of Kentucky searching for plant and rock specimens.”
“Looking for plants in the winter? That don’t seem right,” the man said suspiciously, his eyes roaming the group.
“Still warm enough. Nice time to search for rocks when the leaves are off the trees,” Farley answered.
“You don’t say,” the man said suspiciously. He pushed past Farley’s and Althea’s horses only to stop before Mona. He reached into his knapsack and pulled out a washed camp plate, handing it to Mona. “Much obliged for the egg, ma’am. Hadn’t had one for a spell.”
“You’re most welcome. I didn’t smell smoke from your campfire, so I knew you weren’t going to have a hot breakfast. Everyone needs a hot breakfast, don’t you think?”
The mountaineer nodded and stepped into the forest heading away from the group. His moccasins made no sound as he disappeared into the woods.
Rupert asked, “Althea, do you know who that man is?”
“Only by reputation. Never have met him, but by the description that man is none other than Popcorn Pearse, a notorious bootlegger. Good thing you left him food, Mona. People in these parts remember a kindness. Otherwise, we might be full of holes from that double barrel shotgun of his. We must be close to his still.”
“I thought you said you knew where every still was,” Rupert said, accusingly.
“Must have moved it. Let’s keep on. The day is dying, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” Althea said.
Farley waited until Mona passed him. “Good instincts, my beautiful American cow.”
“Oh, how you do go on,” Mona said, laughing. “I do love the beautiful and American part, but can you leave out the cow? I thought we cleared that matter up.”
Robert blew Mona a kiss as he pulled his horse in line after Althea.
Rupert rode after Mona, leaving Chester to bring up the rear with the mules.
Chester couldn’t keep from glancing behind him. The old man spooked him, and Chester didn’t think they had seen the last of him. The thick forest and the isolation of the region gave him the willies. It might be his imagination but Chester swore they were being watched. Of course, there was no evidence to support this—this supposition. Sure. That’s it. It must be his imagination.
Still, Chester couldn’t wait until this expedition was over, and he was home playing on his drums.