Snareville II: Circles Read Online Free

rings into a top pocket of my coat. I had other things to worry about. Bill and Cody brought the horses back up from the river. They had taken the animals for a drink, but I wanted them away from the water when the ferry put in. Five minutes later, Wally drew the thing up beside the dock.
    A short, round man with a thick brown beard descended from the wheelhouse, hopped off the boat and came over to our little group.
    “You must be Dan,” he said as he thrust out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Dave Wallace. Wally to most folks, you included.” He glanced at the group. “Rescue Cherry, did you?”
    I grinned. He had a grip like a steel trap and a sense of humor. I liked him already. “Wouldn’t say rescue, so much as bartered for.”
    “Doesn’t matter. She’s away from that place. Good seein’ you Cher. ’Bout didn’t recognize you with clothes.”
    Again, a flash of a smile. “Good to see you too, Wally. Been too long since you came out.”
    “You two know one another?” Jinks asked.
    “I go over there for a meal now and then when I get tired of my own cooking. Doesn’t hurt they had a pretty girl to decorate the place.”
    “I wouldn’t call her a decoration,” Jinks said.
    “I wouldn’t either. Just meant she was easy to talk with. Easier to look at,” Wally replied. He ushered us toward the ferry. “You think your horses’ll get on board? We’ve had to swim a few across. That sucks. We had a guy lose one of his string that way.”
    “Let’s hope they will,” I said. The engines idled slow. I could feel the thrum they gave off here on the landing. The horses snorted and blew as we got close to the ferry. It was a small one. Probably could get three or four vehicles on it length wise. I handed the lead rope of my gelding to Ella. A ramp jutted down to the landing from the deck. Metal, lined with plywood bolted into place. I stepped up on it. Sounded solid.
    “I covered as much metal up as I could this year,” Wally said. “Found out if it sounded more like a horse trailer, they were more apt to get on board without freakin’ out. Works on stock horses. Don’t know about them high strung warm-bloods you got.”
    “Your Arabs made it across,” I said. “Ours ought to go.”
    Wally chuckled. “I crossed them over before I got the ferry. Most horses can swim. I guess I thinned the gene pool of those that couldn’t. At least from mine.”
    “Oh. Well, let’s get on with this.”
    I took the lead of my buckskin. I figured if I could get Cherokee aboard, the others would follow. He put a foot on the ramp. It echoed across the water under his hoof. He snorted and blew, took a good sniff of it. It was stained and beat up and smelled like other horses and he put another foot on it. I tugged the lead and with a rush, he was aboard. He stood spraddle legged in the center of the deck, blowing and trying to figure out why the floor moved.
    The others followed suit. Soon we had a knot of horses standing on deck, looking around and snorting. Last one aboard was the Shetland. Bill and Dave locked wrists and simply lifted her onto the ferry. She tried to get back off, but Cody grabbed her halter and held while Wally’s deckhand raised the ramp. Wally climbed back into the wheelhouse as the hand cast off the lines and we were under way.
    A short trip to the island and we offloaded the horses, who seemed to be glad to be back onto solid ground. At least as solid as an island in the Mississippi could be. It was one of the bigger pieces of land in the northern section of river. Fully grown cottonwoods reached into the sky. A mix of hardwoods made a solid screen to the interior. The ground was a soft mix of sand and clay as we walked away from the water. I smelled wood smoke. A few more feet and I knew why. The trees opened into a clearing where Wally had set up his own little village.
    “Nice,” Cody said. “Really nice.”
    I agreed. A half-dozen small houses surrounded a much