Bahama Crisis

"The Cunninghams don't want your land just to hunt pigs, do they?"

"Naw. They want to bring in bulldozers an' strip the land. A lot of prime hardwood around here. Then they replant with softwoods right tidy, like a regiment of soldiers marchin' down Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington like I seen on TV once. Ruinin' this country."

Dade waved his arm.

"Big Thicket was three million acres once. Not much left now an' we want to keep it the way it is. Sure, I cut my timber, but I do it right an' try not to make too many big changes."

I said, "I can promise you won't have trouble with the Cunninghams ever again."

He shook his head.

"You'll never get that past Jack Cunningham he's as stubborn as a mule. He'll never let go while there's a dollar to be made outta Big Thicket."

"Jack will be no trouble; he had a heart attack a couple of days ago."

"That so?" said Dade uninterestedly.

"Then it's Billy One that old bastard's just as bad."

"I promised," I said stubbornly.

"It'll hold, Dade."

I could see he was sceptical. He merely grunted and changed the subject.

"How come you tangled with Leroy Ainslee?"

"Debbie was kidnapped from Houston," I said.

"So was I. Next thing I knew I was at the Ainslee place locked up in a hut with Leroy on guard with a shotgun. That one," I added, pointing to the shotgun leaning against the tree where Sherry-Lou had left it.

"Kidnappin'!" said Dade blankly. He shook his head.

"Ainslees have mighty bad habits, but that ain't one of'em."

"They didn't organize it. There was an Englishman; called himself Robinson, but I doubt if that's his real name. I think all the Ainslees provided was muscle and a place to hide. Who are they, anyway?"

"A no account family of white trash," said Dade.

"No one around here likes 'em. An' they breed too damn fast. Those Ainslee women pop out brats like shelling peas." He scratched his jaw.

"How much did they ask for ransom?"

"They didn't tell me." I was not about to go into details with Dade; he would never believe me.

"Did you really kill Earl? An' gut Tukey?"

"Yes." I told him how I had done it and he whistled softly. I said, "And Debbie was screaming all the time and I couldn't get near her."

I found myself shaking.

Dade put his hand on my arm.

"Take it easy, son; we'll get her out of there." He looked down at my feet.

"Think you can walk a piece?"

"I can try."

He looked down the hill.

"Them Ainslees might take it into their ha ids to come back. We'll go over the rise an' find us a better place to be." He picked up Leroy's shotgun and examined it.

"Nice gun," he said appreciatively.

"You can have it," I said.

"I doubt if Leroy will come calling for it."

Dade chuckled.

"Ain't that so."

Just over an hour later Dade nudged me.

"Here's Sherry-Lou. Got Chuck with her, too." He put two fingers in his mouth and uttered a peculiar warbling whistle, and the two distant figures changed course and came towards the tumble of rocks where Dade and I were sitting.

Sherry-Lou had brought more than footwear. She produced a paper bag full of chunky pork sandwiches and I ^1 suddenly realized I had not eaten for about twenty-four hours. As I ate them she rubbed my feet with a medicament and then bandaged them.

More important than this was trfe news she brought. When Billy had heard her story he exploded into action and promised all aid short of the US Navy as fast as humanly possible.

"He's flyin' here direct," she said.

"I told him to bring a doctor." She avoided my eyes and I knew my hurts were not in her mind when she said that.

"What's all this about?" asked Chuck.

I let Dade tell the story I was too busy eating. W^hen he had finished Chuck said, "I always knew the Ainslees were bad." He shook his head.

"But this…" He stared at me.

"An' you kilt Earl?"

"He's dead, unless he can walk around with his brains leaking out," I said sourly.

"Jeez! Leroy will be madder than a cornered boar. What's to do, Pop?"

Dade said, "Did Billy Cunningham say how long he'd be?"

"Bout three o'clock," said Sherry-Lou.

Dade hauled out an old-fashioned turnip watch and nodded.

"Chuck, you get back to the house right smartly. W^hen Billy drops by in his whirlybird you show him the big meadow near Turkey Creek. We'll be there. No reason for Tom to walk more'n he has to."

"Jeez!" said Chuck with enthusiasm.

"Never flown in one of them things." He loped away. I thought that Dade Perkins's kids could stand a chance in the Olympics marathon; they did everything on the dead run.

Sherry-Lou snorted.

"He's never been in the air in his life- in anythin'." She finished knotting a bandage over the deepest gash on my arm.

"You all right, Tom?"

"I'll be better when I know Debbie's all right."

She veiled her eyes.

"Sure."

Dade stood up.

"Take us fifteen minutes to get down to the creek.

Might as well start. "