The following morning Jim Tabor and Stace Golite, the deputies, came to see that he hadn’t been up to anything during the night. They hauled him off the shelf and dumped him on the floor. They laughed when he cursed them, went out and locked the door. A short while after he heard a woman’s voice and knew that Juanita Morales had brought him food. Her voice became raised in anger. After a while she went away. Spur crawled back on the shelf.
In a minute or two, an idea struck him.
He climbed down from the shelf and managed to pick his coat up from the floor. It took him some time to get it on the shelf at hand level because he could use only his teeth and feet. However, he managed to find the stub of a pencil in a pocket. He now climbed awkwardly to the top shelf, praying that it would not collapse under his weight and there managed to tear off a piece of paper from a parcel up there. He climbed down to a height at which he could use his hands and wrote on the paper, signing his name when he finished. He thrust the paper between his body and the top of his pants and climbed down again.
Now there was a man’s voice raised outside the door. It sounded like Charlie Doolittle’s. Juanita’s voice sharp with anger was added to his. A man swore and the key turned in the lock. The door opened and Spur heard Stace say: ‘Gaylor ain’t goin’ to like this.’
‘I don’t expect him to,’ Doolittle said.
The girl came in behind him. She said she had brought him some food and would dress his wound again.
Doolittle added: ‘We’ll stay while you eat it.’
Jim Tabor came in and said: ‘Wayne Gaylor’s goin’ to hear about this.’
Doolittle turned nonchalantly and said: ‘Go tell him right now.’
The girl came close to Spur and started to unwind the bandage after she had removed the shirt he wore like a cloak. Stace was standing in the doorway watching them. When the girl was between Spur and the man in the doorway, Spur whispered: ‘Take the paper in the top of my pants.’
Spur looked at Doolittle and knew the man had heard. Doolittle turned and started talking to Stace. The girl’s fingers retrieved the piece of packing paper and slipped it down the top of her blouse.
When she had the wound uncovered, she said: ‘It is angry, but it is doing well. It is clean and that is the important thing.’
When the wound was bound up again, she fed him. There was the leg of a chicken, some chili con carne, some tortillas, a little wine. A feast. He wolfed it. He was halfway through it when Gaylor came in.
He stood staring at Spur and the girl.
‘Pretty soon, Doolittle,’ he said softly, ‘you’ll go too far with me.’
‘You threatenin’ me, Gaylor?’ Doolittle asked gently.
‘I’m givin’ you due warnin’. I’m the law in this neck of the woods an’ don’t you forget it.’
‘You don’t give anybody a chance to forget it,’ Doolittle said. ‘Only, if you’re a lawman, I’m the archangel Gabriel.’
‘You git outa here.’
‘I’ll go when the prisoner’s fed.’
Gaylor looked as if he would like to use force, but dared not. Spur ate on, wondering about Doolittle. He seemed to be a man of influence around here. When he was through eating, Juanita let him drink from the bottle of wine. It was red, coarse and strong. It seemed to put new strength into him.
With her back to the men, she smiled at him.
‘A thousand thanks, senorita,’ he said. ‘If I live, I hope to be able to repay you.’
‘That you live will be repayment enough. Tell me, did you kill the old man, Rube Daley?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I did not. He was my friend. He sent for me because he was in trouble.’ Her smooth forehead creased in a frown. ‘Do you know what the trouble was?’
‘Talk American, damn you,’ Gaylor said.
‘There is only one trouble here,’ she said, ‘and that is that vain pig there.’
Juanita gathered up her utensils and put them in the basket she had brought with her. ‘I shall return tomorrow,’ she said. She turned and thrust her way through the men and went out through the store. Doolittle nodded to Spur and followed.
Gaylor came forward and looked Spur over. He grinned.;
‘Enjoyin’ life?’ he said. ‘Arms still in their sockets?’
‘When do I come to trial?’ Spur asked.
‘When the judge gits here. Next week. The week after. Who knows?’
He turned away and went out. The other two followed him, the door shut and the key turned in the lock. Spur climbed up on the shelf and went to sleep. He was going to need all the strength he could muster.