Read Online Butcher's Crossing by John Williams - Free Book Online Page B

there, for an instant, he had beheld somewhat as beautiful as his own undiscovered nature.
    Now, on the flat prairie around Butcher’s Crossing, he regularly wandered, as if seeking a chapel more to his liking than King’s or Jackson’s Saloon. On one such sojourn, on the fifth day after Miller had left Butcher’s Crossing, and on the day before he returned, Andrews went for the second time down the narrow rutted road toward the river, and on an impulse turned off the road onto the path that led to McDonald’s shack.
    Andrews walked through the doorway without knocking. McDonald was seated behind his littered desk; he did not move as Andrews came into the room.
    “Well,” McDonald said, and cleared his throat angrily, “I see you’ve come back.”
    “Yes, sir,” Andrews said. “I promised I would tell you if—”
    McDonald waved his hand impatiently. “Don’t tell me,” he said, “I already know....Pull up a chair.”
    Andrews got a chair from the corner of the room and brought it up beside the desk.
    “You know?”
    McDonald laughed shortly. “Hell, yes, I know; everybody in town knows. You gave Miller six hundred dollars, and you’re off on a big hunt, up in Colorado, they say.”
    “You even know where we’re going,” Andrews said.
    McDonald laughed again. “You don’t think you’re the first one that Miller has tried to get in on this deal, do you? He’s been trying for four years, maybe more—ever since I’ve known him, anyway. By this time, I thought he’d have stopped.”
    Andrews was silent for a moment. Finally, he said: “It doesn’t make any difference.”
    “You’ll lose your tail, boy. Miller saw them buffalo, if he saw them at all, ten, eleven years ago. There’s been a lot of hunting since then, and the herds have scattered; they don’t all go where they used to go. You might find a few old strays, but that’s all; you won’t get your money back.”
    Andrews shrugged. “It’s a chance. Maybe I won’t.”
    “You could still back out,” McDonald said. “Look.” He leaned across the table and pointed a stiff index finger at Andrews. “You back out. Miller will be mad, but he won’t make trouble; you can get four, five hundred dollars back on the stuff you’ve laid out for. Hell, I’ll buy it from you. And if you really want to go out on a hunt, I’ll fix you up; I’ll send you out on one of my parties from here. You won’t be gone more than three or four days, and you’ll make more off of those three or four days than you will off the whole trip with Miller.”
    Andrews shook his head. “I’ve given my word. But it’s kind of you, Mr. McDonald; I thank you very much.”
    “Well,” McDonald said after a moment. “I didn’t think you’d back out. Too stubborn. Knew it when I first saw you. But it’s your money. None of my business.”
    They were silent for a long while. Andrews said at last, “Well, I wanted to see you before I left. Miller will be coming back tomorrow or the next day, and I won’t know when we’ll take off from here.” He got up from the chair and put it back in its corner.
    “One thing,” McDonald said, not looking at him. “That’s rough country you’re going up into. You do what Miller tells you. He may be a son-of-a-bitch, but he knows the country; you listen to him, and don’t go thinking you know anything at all.”
    Andrews nodded. “Yes, sir.” He went forward until his thighs pressed against McDonald’s desk and he was bent a little above McDonald’s disheveled face. “I hope you do not think I am ungrateful in this matter. I know that you are a kind man, and that you have my best interests in mind. I am truly indebted to you.” McDonald’s mouth had slowly opened and now it hung incredulously wide, and his round eyes were watching Andrews. Andrews turned from him and walked out of the little shack into the sunlight.
    In the sunlight he paused. He wondered if he wished to go back to the town just now. Unable to