thillerman.theblessingway-第19节

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evitably　seem　while　he　tried。
　During　the　night　he　had　worked　his　way　steadily　down　the　canyon；　keeping　to　the　rocks　close　to　the　canyon　wall。　When　the　moon　rose　directly　overhead；　flooding　the　north　side　of　the　cliffs　with　light；　he　had　lain　under　a　growth　of　brush；　resting　and　listening。　And　in　this　silence　he　had　heard　the　sound　of　something　moving　on　the　rimrock；　across　the　canyon　and　high　above　him。　Whatever　it　was…and　McKee　had　no　doubt　at　all　that　it　was　the　man　with　the　wolf　skin…its　movements　were　stealthy。　There　was　not　the　steady　sound　of　unguarded　footsteps　on　the　rock。　Only　an　occasional　and　very　slight　noise；　with　long　pauses　when　there　was　no　sound　at　all。　In　those　pauses；　McKee　sensed　the　man　was　looking　down　from　the　rim；　searching　the　canyon　floor　and　listening　for　the　sound　of　movement。　The　feeling　was　familiar；　and　less　frightening　because　he　had　felt　it　before。　Years　before；　when　his　pany　of　the　First　Cavalry　had　been　rearguard　in　the　long；　leapfrog　retreat　down　the　Korean　Peninsula　from　Seoul　toward　the　Pusan　beachhead；　he　had　learned　how　it　felt　to　be　hunted。　And；　he　thought　grimly；　he　had　learned　how　to　survive。
　The　sound　had　finally　moved　away　from　the　rim。　McKee　allowed　thirty　minutes　of　silence；　and　then　sprinted　across　the　sand　to　the　south　wall。　Here　the　moon's　shadow　would　now　fall　and　here　he　would　be　less　visible　from　the　rim。　He　had　kept　as　high　on　the　talus　as　he　could；　trading　the　easier　going　along　the　bottom　for　the　invisibility　offered　by　the　rocks　and　brush。　He　moved　steadily；　but　with　infinite　caution。　His　plan　was　simple。　He　would　travel　as　far　as　he　could　until　daylight　and　then　he　would　find　a　place　from　which　he　could　watch　the　bottom。　There　he　would　wait　to　intercept　the　car　of　Miss　Leon。　He　would　warn　her；　get　her　out　of　the　canyon；　send　her　back　to　Shoemaker's　to　get　help；　and　then　he　would　e　back　to　look　for　Canfield。　He　no　longer　had　even　the　faintest　hope　that　the　morning　would　bring　Canfield　driving　up　the　canyon；　safely　back　from　a　mercy　trip　with　a　snake…bitten　Navajo。　The　sounds　on　the　rimrock　had　killed　that　hope。　If　the　motives　of　the　man　hunting　him　were　less　than　sinister　he　would　have　been　calling　for　him；　not　stalking　him　in　silence。　And　that　man；　the　man　with　the　wolf　skin　and　the　pistol；　must　have　stood　beside　Jeremy　as　he　wrote　the　note　and　signed　it　〃John。〃
　He　knew　my　name；　McKee　had　thought。　He　must　have　read　it　in　my　papers　in　the　tent。　He　could　have　learned　Canfield's　name　the　same　way；　but　only　his　initials。　And　Canfield　must　have　told　him　the　J。　was　for　John　and　tried；　thus；　to　leave　a　warning。　It　occurred　to　McKee　that　if　the　Wolf　had　taken　this　trouble　to　learn　who　was　living　in　the　tent；　he　would　also　know　of　Ellen　Leon。　Her　letter　announcing　her　arrival　time　was　on　the　table。　The　Wolf　would　only　have　to　wait　for　her。
　It　had　all　seemed　very　obvious　in　darkness。　The　man　who　had　stalked　him　must　be　insane。　There　seemed　to　be　no　other　rational　explanation。　And　this；　too；　might　explain　the　puzzle　of　Horseman's　murder。
　An　hour　before　dawn；　when　the　moon　was　down　and　the　canyon　was　almost　totally　dark；　McKee　had　fallen。　A　stone　shifted　under　his　weight　and　he　had　plunged；　off　balance；　eight　feet　against　a　slab　of　rock　below。　The　impact　had　stunned　him　for　a　moment　but　he　was　back　on　his　feet　before　he　realized　that　the　little　finger　on　his　right　hand　was　pulled　from　its　socket。　He　noticed　its　odd　immobility　before　he　felt　the　pain；　saw　that　it　was　bent　grotesquely　backward　and；　when　he　tried　to　straighten　it；　felt　the　agony　of　the　injured　joint。　He　had　sat　on　the　stone　then；　frightened；　trying　to　listen；　to　determine　if　his　clumsy　fall　had　alerted　the　man；　but　there　was　a　roaring　in　his　ears　from　the　pain。　Finally　he　had　gone　on；　carrying　his　injured　hand　inside　his　shirt。　It　was　then　he　heard　the　sound　of　the　motor　starting。　There　was　the　quick　whine　of　the　starter；　the　sound　of　a　heavy　motor；　and　gears　shifting；　and　then　the　noise　of　wheels　crunching　over　a　stony　surface。　The　sound　came　from　above；　and　some　distance　down　canyon。　It　moved　away　from　him　and　in　a　few　minutes　there　was　silence　again。　The　man　who　had　stalked　him　had　driven　away。　He　had　no　way　of　guessing　how　far。
　McKee　had　climbed　down　to　the　canyon　bottom　then。　Walking　was　easy　on　the　sand　and　soon　it　was　dawn。　He　stopped　at　a　pool　where　runoff　had　been　trapped　in　a　pocket　of　rocks。　He　drank　thirstily　of　the　sandy　water　and　then　used　his　left　hand　to　wash　as　much　blood　as　he　could　from　his　face。　The　skin　had　been　scraped　from　the　right　side　of　his　cheek　and　the　bone　felt　bruised。　He　rested　on　a　rock　and　gingerly　examined　his　finger。　It　seemed　to　be　broken　in　the　knuckle　and　the　tendon　pulled　loose　in　his　palm。　The　sky　overhead　was　lightening　now　and　the　rocks　and　trees　across　the　canyon　were　clearly　visible。　Night　had　given　way　to　dawn。
　McKee　pulled　off　his　left　boot　and　shook　out　the　gravel　it　had　picked　up　somehow　during　the　night。　And　then　he　examined　his　left　hand　again。　It　was　a　broad　hand　with　strong　blunt　fingers；　two　of　them　crooked。　He　wiggled　the　bent　knuckle　of　his　first　finger　and　tried　to　remember　how　it　had　felt　when　he　stuck　it　into　that　line　drive　when　he　was　seventeen。　He　could　only　remember　that　it　had　been　swollen　for　days　and　that　the　error　had　let　in　two　unearned　runs。
　The　distorted　knuckle　on　the　second　finger　was　the　souvenir　of　a　less　serious　mishap。　He　had　picked　it　up　in　practice　where　the　errors　didn't　go　into　the　record　books。　Funny　thing　about　his　fielding；　McKee　thought。　Never　could　learn　it。　He　could　hit　anybody　who　ever　pitched　to　him。　Bunt　and　hit　to　either　field；　and　he　had　had　the　power　for　a　kid　his　age；　but　finally　the　coach　had　used　him　as　a　pinch　hitter。　〃Damnit；　Berg；〃　the　coach　had　said；　〃if　I　leave　you　out　there；　you're　going　to　get　hit　on　the　head　and　killed。〃　That　had　ended　his　ambitions　to　be　a　baseball　player；　but　it　still　seemed　odd　to　him　that　the　simple　skill　of　timing　a　grounder　and　sensing　the　trajectory　of　a　fly　ball　had　been　beyond　him。　McKee　carefully　replaced　the　injured　hand　in　his　shirt　front。　It　was　throbbing　now；　but　the　pain　was　tolerable。　He　stood　up；　surprised　at　how　quickly　his　leg　muscles　had　stiffened。　A　mockingbird　flew　out　of　a　young　cotton…wood　tree；　whistling　raucously。　It　was　then　McKee　was　suddenly　struck　with　the　dismaying　thought　of　Miss　Ellen　Leon。
　Almost　certainly　in　a　very　few　hours　he　would　meet　her　and；　when　he　did；　he　would　have　to　make　her　believe　an　absolutely　incredible　story。　He　walked　slowly　down　the　canyon；　thinking　of　how　he　would　tell　it。　As　he　thought；　the　incident　seemed　first　wildly　ridiculous　and　then　entirely　unreal。　The　canyon　was　filled　with　the　cool；　gray　light　of　full　dawn　now。　All　that　had　happened　under　the　moonlight　was　utterly　absurd；　like　something　out　of　a　bad　melodrama；　and　his　own　role　in　it　had　been　thoroughly　unheroic。　Yet　Miss　Leon　had　to　be　told…to　get　her　out　of　the　canyon。　There　simply　was　no　way　to　explain　it　all　without　sounding　like　a　plete　fool。　McKee　wished　fervently　that　the　visitor　were　a　man。
　He　trudged　steadily　down　the　canyon；　turning　in　his　mind　the　problem　of　confronting　the　woman。　He　had　skipped　shaving　yesterday　in　his　haste　to　get　to　Chinle　and　call　Leaphorn。　Now　the　face　which　confronted　him　each　morning　in　his　bathroom　mirror　would　be　worse　by　two　days'　growth　of　bristles。　And　the　torn　and　dirty　shirt　and　the　scraped　cheekbone　certainly　wouldn't　inspire　confidence　in　a　female。　Neither；　he　thought　glumly；　would　the　improbable　tale　he　had　to　tell。
　When　he　heard　the　sound　of　the　motor　again；　it　came　almost　as　a　relief。　He　was　crossing　the　point　where　a　large　tributary　canyon　drained　into　Many　Ruins　and　where　centuries　of　turbulent　runoff　had　carved　the　cliffs　into　a　series　of　horseshoe　bends。　The　motor　sound　and　its　confusion　of　echoes　seemed　first　to　e　from　upstream；　and　then　from　downstream。　Before　it　died　abruptly　away　he　decided　the　vehicle　might　be　somewhere　up　the　tributary。　Talking　Rock　Canyon；　he　thought　it　was；　but　he　wasn't　sure。　In　the　morning　sunlight　the　sound　of　the　truck　seemed　natural　and　sane；　reassuring　him　that　all　that　had　happened　in　the　darkness　had　not　been　merely　nightmare。
　And　now　he　was　sitting　beside　Miss　Leon　and　she　was　saying　that　she　wanted　very　badly　to　see　Dr。　Canfield　this　morning。
　McKee　converted　his　embarrassment　to　irritation。
　〃Listen；〃　he　said。　〃There's　a　man　somewhere　up　this　canyon　who　isn't　acting　rationally。　I　think　he　may　have　done　something　to　Dr。　Canfield。　I　don't　know　where　the　hell　Canfield　is　and　I　can't　start　looking　for　him　until　I　get　you　out　of　here。〃
　Miss　Leon　said；　〃Oh；〃　in　a　small　voice　and　looked　at　McKee。　He　noticed　again　that　she　was　a　very　pretty　woman。
　She　thinks　I'm　a　nut；　he　thought。
　〃Canfield　was　gone　when　I　got　back　to　the　camp　yesterday；〃　McKee　went　on。　〃Left　me　a　note　and　signed　it　'John。'　His　name's　Jeremy。〃　Even　as　he　said　it；　the　explanation　sounded　ridiculous。　Miss　Leon　glanced　at　him。
　〃What　did　the　note　say？〃
　〃It　said　a　Navajo　had　e　by　with　a　snakebite　and　he　was　taking　him　to　Teec　Nos　Pas。〃　The　text　of　the　note　now　seemed　pletely　reasonable。　〃But　why　would　he　sign　it　with　a　phony　name？〃
　〃Maybe　it　was　a　joke；〃　Miss　Leon　said。
　Maybe　it　was　a　joke；　McKee　thou