Borden Chantry by Louis L’Amour Page B

through the window, and the curtain stirred in the faint breeze.
    After a moment he closed his eyes, vaguely listening to the sounds from the kitchen where Bess was at work. It was good to just lie still.
    Yet lying still solved no crimes, and they were expecting him to be out on the street.
    He sat up, very carefully, and swung his feet to the floor. His head swam a little, but waiting just a moment, he stood up. Hand on the foot of the bed, he stood still, trying to see how his body would react, yet as he stood there he saw some straw on the windowsill.
    Straw, crushed together by a small bit of mud or manure.
    On Bess’s windowsill? It was absurd. She was the most careful woman he had ever known about her house…Yet it was there. And the fact of its presence could only mean that somebody had come through that window since Bess had cleaned the room, even since she had last seen it.
    She had gotten up in the dark this morning, not to disturb him, and would not have seen it in the dark last night. That meant that yesterday somebody had come through that window, somebody who had been in a corral or barn.
    Yet in the daytime such a person would have been seen. And anyway, the house was open.
    Which implied the entry had been made last night, and before he was put to bed in here.
    There had been somebody in the barn last night, there had been two people, at least.
Had one of them come from his own home?
    That was impossible!
    Yet, the straw was there. True, there were twenty places, even fifty places from which it might have come.
    Why through the window? For how else could it have gotten on the sill? Surely Bess…Bess would have come right in the door, no need for anything else. He had not been home, and Tom would undoubtedly have been asleep.
    Billy McCoy?
    Suppose Billy had been out? This window in this room would have been a good place to re-enter the house, for this room would be empty, that side of the house obscured. As the parlor, or front room as it was called, was only used when the preacher came calling or some such occasion, Billy would not have dreamed of using that door, and the kitchen door squeaked.
    Billy, no doubt…But why? Why in the middle of the night and to the stable?
    Slowly, carefully, so as not to jolt his head and start it aching more violently, Borden Chantry dressed, pulled on his boots and slung his gun belt around him. He checked the load of his gun as he always did, even when it had not been used in some time.
    He walked into the kitchen, and through the window he could see Billy out there with Tom, throwing a loop at a post. Tame stuff for Billy, who had done some roping, but good practice for Tom, who was younger.
    Bess turned quickly. “Borden! You shouldn’t be up! Doctor Terwilliger said—”
    â€œI can imagine what he said. How’s about a cup of coffee?”
    â€œSit down…
please!
” She glanced at him, then poured the coffee. “You’ve no idea how pale you are. You mustn’t go out there, Borden, it’s turned hot.”
    â€œJust a few odds and ends,” he said. “I’ll be all right.” She put the pot back on the stove. “Hear anything around last night, Bess?”
    â€œAround here?” She turned her back to the stove. “No. Was there something?”
    â€œDon’t mention it, but I thought Billy might have gone out.”
    â€œBilly? Of course not! Well…I didn’t see him go out.”
    They discussed it quietly, keeping their voices low. Did Billy know something he did not? He should ask him, but now was not the time. Sometime when he wasn’t playing with Tom and when they could be alone, man-to-man style.
    â€œOh!” Bess suddenly remembered. “Kim Baca wants to see you, and Hyatt Johnson asked for you to drop in when you could. He said to tell you he’d had a talk with the judge.”
    Kim Baca…?

Chapter 8
----
    B ORDEN CHANTRY WALKED slowly out to the