* * *
The rain had started again as they rode into the Cockle Creek depot. Will Johnson had the coach ready to go.
“Going to set in again,” said Will, standing on the verandah of the depot and peering up at the threatening sky.
“We had better get moving,” said Jim. He and Billy tied the horses to the rear of the coach while Constable Harrison climbed aboard. Billy joined him. “See you in a couple of days,” said Jim to Will as he lifted the reins and yelled to the horses. The stage coach lumbered on into the approaching squall of driving rain.
Darkness had fallen by the time they arrived back at Gladstone. It had been a long hard haul as the road had been washed out in a couple of places, and the bog holes were deeper, necessitating the use of the extra horses to pull the coach out. They were all tired, wet, and hungry.
“You had better stay over tonight, Billy,” said Constable Harrison, untying the horses from the rear of the mud-splattered coach in the pouring rain. “Come over when you are finished with the horses, Jim. I’ll have the wife brew us some hot soup.”
“Be over in about half-an-hour,” replied Jim.
Abe sauntered out from the shelter of the shanty with an old coat over his head to lend Jim a hand.
Abe collected two of the horses and led them into the stable. “Going to be a wild one tonight, Jim.”
“It sure looks like it, Abe.”
It was a good hour later when Jim arrived back at the shanty. He shook the water from his hat and then wiped his wet face and neck with a towel. He removed his sodden boots and found some dry socks. He borrowed Abe’s boots that were a size too small. As he made his way to Constable Harrison’s house he grimaced in pain as Abe’s boots pinched at his feet. He would take them off when he arrived at the house, as indeed he did.
Mrs Harrison let him in immediately when he knocked on the door. It had been a long day and the only thing that they had accomplished was to identify the girl and bring the mail back from Cockle Creek. Constable Harrison and Billy were seated at the kitchen table with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup in front of them.
“Sit down, Jim and Christina will get you some soup,” said Constable Harrison as he lifted his spoon and sipped at the soup.
Jim joined them at the table.
“Billy had a look around at the Langley place while we were inside the house. He is pretty sure that tracks in the mud at the corral where the two horses were, are the same ones that were around the stage.”
“It all points to a cover-up then,” said Jim.
Mrs Harrison placed a hot bowl of vegetable soup and some bread on the table in front of Jim. He thanked her. She acknowledged his thanks and then returned to the wood stove, allowing the men to continue their talk.
“Apart from the coach being stopped we have nothing to charge the men with, even if we do find out who they are, unless of course we find Miss Langley and she makes a complaint,” said Constable Harrison, finishing the last of his soup and then dabbing his chin with a white serviette.
“As far as I see it, three things can happen. We don’t find Lillian Langley so we won’t find out anything more; we find her dead and then we have the same scenario, or we find her alive and she may, or may not, identify the men who chased her,” said Jim.
“I think we find lady,” said Billy. “But family ties strong, she will not tell us anything.”
“I wish I had your confidence, Billy,” said Constable Harrison.
“It’s just a feeling,” replied Billy.
They sat and talked some more until tiredness overcame them and sleep beckoned. Jim retired to the shanty. The rain continued to cascade down and the drumming on the tin roof didn’t interfere with his sleep.
Hawkins' Grove Page 8
