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wasn’t too comfortable with drinking in the clandestine shack with a man who wouldn’t look him in the eye. He tasted the brew cautiously.
          “Drink that down,” Buck urged. “It works best going down nice and fast.”
          Mark decided he had nothing to lose, took a deep breath and gulped down the moonshine.
     
          The sensation hit him immediately. Later he’d recall that he felt off balance as they exited the shack and they all sat on stumps a few yards from the building. He struggled to focus on his surroundings. Sam and Buck were laughing quietly, whispering things about fishing and water, but Mark could not make out their conversation. He slipped off the stump and plunked down onto the ground and he could see that the other two were laughing at him hard. He smiled, feeling foolish, but not minding much. He didn’t care for the feeling of disorientation, but the sensation of being untroubled was pleasant. Mark could not recall feeling so relaxed at any time since he left home. He put his forearm against the stump and let the sensation flow over him.
          It was like spinning, feeling light, and he flowed with it until it completely engulfed him. It wasn’t until a few hours later that he had any recollection at all. When Sam kicked him with his heavy boot, Mark struggled to sit upright.
          He realized that he had been sick and his memories were foggy. His head pounded mercilessly and the night was pitch black.
          “Get up, Mark,” Samuel grumbled.
          He groaned and his stomach heaved as he struggled onto the horse.
          “I can’t see a thing,” Sam groaned.
          “This way, I think.” Mark settled into his horse and led the way. They circled in the woods for hours until they finally emerged on the other end of town and then took the back roads until they reached the stables where they could return their horses. When Mark tried to settle up with the stable owner he discovered that he had no money and his gun was gone as well.
          He shook his head in humiliation. He smelled terrible and Sam looked pale and exhausted.
          “One of you boys is going to have to stay here until the other brings the money you owe. You decide which one.” The owner glowered at the boys.
          “I’ll go,” Mark sighed.
     
          “I don’t expect you boys to be coming in this late every night,” Lillian Griffin coughed towards him as he let himself into the boarding house.
          “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he apologized. “I have to get something from my room, and then we’ll be back shortly.” He swallowed hard, squinting at the woman.
          “I can smell the drink on ya,” the woman snorted.
          Mark nodded in embarrassment and climbed the stairs to his room.
          When the boys had settled up with the stableman and returned to the boarding house, they found the door locked and bolted from inside.
          Too exhausted to confront the house mistress, the both of them tried to get as comfortable as possible in the dirty porch furniture and fell into a deep sleep.

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
          R ebecca ran her hand over Timothy’s shoulder and massaged in the liniment gently. His long healed gunshot wound still seemed to ache in the winter. Although it was still late fall, the season had brought several feet of snow and a dreary dampness seemed to hang in the air.
          He hung his head, deep in thought, in the big chair in the bedroom, but she noticed that he looked as if it weren’t just his shoulder that pained him.
         
      “Tell me your thoughts,” she prodded gently.
          “I’m alright,” he replied. He held his head up and looked at her over his shoulder.
          “It takes more than a few cloudy days to make this act up so badly,” she rubbed slowly. “What’s on your mind?”
          “It makes no difference.” He