The Gentleman Outlaw and Me-Eli Read Online Free Page B

now and then to make sure he was right.
    By the time we reached the railroad tracks, Calvin was breathing hard. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and he was leaning on me heavier and heavier. It must have been about eight in the morning, but the sun was already hot. Gnats added to our discomfort by humming around our heads and nibbling on tender parts such as earlobes and eyelids.
    'You want to sit and rest a spell?" I asked.
    Calvin sank down in the weeds and leaned against a tree. His wound was bleeding again. I could see fresh red spreading across the old brown stains on his shirt sleeve.
    "I can't take another step," he admitted. "Leave me here and go on toward Elms Bluff. It's that way."
    He gestured at a dirt road snaking off along the river and then continued in a voice so low I had to lean close to hear him. "When you come to a little yellow house at the top of a hill, ask for Nellie. Tell
her I'm in need of help. She'll know what to do."
    With that, he closed his eyes as if he were too tired to say another word.
    I fanned him with the hat Roscoe had left behind, but Calvin didn't move. 'You look mighty poorly," I whispered.
    "That's odd," he mumbled. "I feel mighty poorly."
    "You aren't fixing to die, are you?"
    "Not if I can help it." Calvin opened those blue eyes of his for a second. "Go on, Elijah. Fetch Miss Nellie."
    I hated to leave Calvin there all by his lonesome, so I persuaded Caesar to stay with him. "Keep him safe," I told my dog. "Don't let anyone come near him."
    Caesar nodded like he understood, and I took off, fearing for Calvin's life.
    By the time I spotted the tumbledown yellow house, I felt like I'd been running and walking, running and walking, for hours. I was glad to see two ladies sitting on the doorstep, fanning themselves. One had long blond hair, and the other had jet black hair done up on top of her head. Frankly, neither color looked natural. Nor did their pink cheeks. Their dresses seemed mighty small somehow, like they'd grown since they'd bought them and could scarcely get the buttons fastened.
    Never having seen ladies like this, I stared so hard they smiled and waved at me.
    "Hey, there," the blonde called. "What are you looking at, boy?"
    The other laughed, showing a mouthful of gold teeth. "Take a picture, why don't you? It'll last a sight longer."
    I was dying of mortification, but I walked up to them even though I knew full well they weren't proper churchgoing ladies. No, sir. They were the kind the preacher talked against on long, hot Sundays. Aunt Mabel wouldn't have gone anywhere near them—which gave me a certain amount of pleasure.
    "Is one of you Miss Nellie?" I asked.
    The blonde tossed her hair. "Who wants to know?"
    "Calvin Featherbone sent me to fetch you," I said. "He's hurt bad."
    Miss Nellie jumped up and pressed her hand to her heart, which you could almost see beating on account of her dress being cut so low. "Oh, I just knowed Calvin was going to get hisself in trouble," she cried. "I told him to stay clear of that low-down scum Roscoe. Didn't I, Pearl?"
    "You surely did, honey." Miss Pearl heaved herself up beside Miss Nellie and laid a big soft white hand on my shoulder. "Where is the poor young man?"
    "In a grove of trees beside the train tracks, about two miles from here. He can't walk all this way. Can you fetch him in a buggy?"
    Miss Pearl nodded real solemn-like and turned to Miss Nellie. "Harness up Fancy. While you're gone, I'll heat some water."
    I followed Miss Nellie around back to the stable. A sorry-looking old gray horse raised up its head and looked down its nose at me. I swear its teeth were worn down worse than Miss Pearl's.
    "Give me a hand with the harness, boy," said Miss Nellie.
    Between the two of us, we were on the road in just a few minutes, which was a good thing because that horse wasn't going to get us to Calvin any sooner than if we'd walked.
    "How bad is Calvin hurt?" Miss Nellie asked.
    "Mr. Roscoe Suggs shot him in the left arm. I