The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗

to see the outline of the desk. And there he placed the letter, anchored to the desk by the brown tortoiseshell Toby jug that Mr. Graves used to hold his pencils.

Back in the hallway, Nathan groped for the front door, slid the iron bar out of its catch, and opened it only wide enough for him to slip out. And then he began to run, straight for the woods.

In the dark, an owl hooted and a hound bayed, sending shivers along his body. But he kept running, never looking back, even when he reached the blackness of the woods.

Then he heard another sound, this time in front of him. And he wasn’t sure whether it might be from man or beast. “Pinky,” he called, trying not to sound scared. “Are you in there?”

“Yes. What took you so long?”

“It was Mr. Graves. He wouldn’t go to sleep.”

“Well, I’ve got the satchels. Here’s yours. You better put your food in it quick before some animal smells it and comes after us.”

Nathan knelt down, unfastened the larger satchel, and stuffed the food bag inside. Then the two walked out to the edge of the road and began their night journey to Holborne.

Each carried a big stick to ward off any night creature that might attack. Nathan didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t too sure how much protection the stick would be against a cougar or a bobcat. But he and Pinky were best friends. They’d already exchanged crosses in blood. A cat would have to carry both of them off, if it attacked, for the two had sworn to protect each other to the death, through thick or thin, forever and a day, so help them God.

“What’s that, Nathan?” Pinky whispered.

Nathan saw the shining eyes, like luminous phosphorus, glaring at them from the middle of the road. Then it began to move away from them, and Nathan saw what it was.

“Just a possum, Pinky. Probably has babies clinging to its back.”

“Oh.”

They started up again, a little faster this time.

While Nathan was slender, with long legs, Pinky was plumper. Nathan could hear his breathing and the legs of his knickers rubbing against each other. “I think we’d better stop to rest, Pinky,” he said.

“You tired, Nathan?”

“Yes,” Nathan lied.

“Me, too.”

A few minutes later, they started out again, digging into the sandy road with their long sticks, while the straps of their satchels dug into their shoulders.

“Uh-oh. I hear a horse. You think they might have already found out we’re gone?” Pinky said.

“I doubt it. But let’s hide, anyway, until whoever it is goes by. I wouldn’t want anybody to see us on the road this time of night by ourselves. They’d be bound to ask questions.”

Nathan and Pinky climbed over a rickety wooden fence, and they waited behind a briar bush for the horse to go by.

“Whoa, Jennie,” a man’s voice said, almost directly opposite them.

Nathan and Pinky put their heads down even more as the man dismounted and allowed his horse to wander close to the fence, while he went off to the other side of the road.

The horse whinnied and lowered its head, parting the large bush hiding the two boys.

“He smells the apples in my satchel,” Nathan whispered.

“Shoo. Go away,” Pinky croaked, taking off his cap and attempting to discourage the horse from further exploration without its owner seeing.

The man whistled through his teeth and the horse reluctantly moved away from the fence. While the boys watched, the man remounted and the horse trotted away.

“Let’s eat the apples now,” Pinky suggested. “I’m already a little hungry.”

So Nathan brought out the apples and they sat there behind the fence eating them. Finally tossing the cores over their shoulders, they crawled out from under the fence and started another mile toward their destination of Holborne.

When they arrived, red and green lanterns were hanging on the side of the depot. And a tarpaulin mail bag was suspended like a side of meat on a hook beside the tracks, waiting to be snatched by the next train that passed.

Inside the gray wood depot, Nathan could hear the telegraph keys working their magic, sending messages up and down the line for anyone who could read their code.

“I’m sleepy,” Pinky said.

“But we can’t go to sleep until we’re on the train. We might miss it. And we’ve come too far to do that.”

So Pinky and Nathan kept each other awake. When one saw the other nodding, he reached out and pinched him. At the puffing sound of a steam engine and the strident whistle, they both sat up, alert. They watched as the train passed by. If they had blinked twice, they would have missed seeing a man in the mail car reach out and snag the mail pouch from its hook.

“Did you see that?” Pinky said.

“Yes. Just like a polar bear swiping a fish with his paw.”

From their vantage point beyond the porch, they saw the old man through the window. He was getting ready for the morning shift to relieve him. And that’s when Nathan and Pinky made their move.

“Good morning,” Nathan said politely, standing at the wire-screened window.

“Good morning, young fellow. What can I do for you so early in the day?”

“We need two children’s tickets to Chicago on the seven-forty,” Nathan said.

“You two wouldn’t be runnin’ away, would you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh, no, sir.” Pinky spoke up. “We want to get tickets for tomorrow, not today. Our papas have decided to let us go, too. And they said we could come ahead today and buy our own.”

The man smiled. “You going to the fair?”

“Yes, sir. We sold our mules to get enough money.” The two plunked the correct amount down at the window and waited for the man to write the tickets. “Day coach,” Pinky added.

“One man was in here last week,” the station agent commented. “Sold his burial insurance policy to get there. Said the exposition wouldn’t wait. But if the Lord was good to him, He would.”

When the tickets were filled out,