How the Hangman Lost His Heart by K. M. Grant Page A

to Major Slavering. Just imagine what he will do.”
    â€œWell, we’ll have to leave your uncle Frank to get on as best he can for the time being. Gracious! We only just escaped with our heads ourselves. Are you never content?” Dan’s temper was short, not only because of his lively aches and pains, but also because he was starving, having had nothing to eat since before going to the wiggery. He didn’t care if Alice looked mutinous. “I never thought that the laundry basket was a good idea,” he added reasonably, although not very kindly.
    â€œDid you have a better one?”
    â€œWell, no,” he admitted. “But maybe I would have thought of one in time.”
    â€œBut we didn’t have any time, Dan Skinslicer. That’s the point.” Alice’s voice was deliberately stinging.
    The horses began to graze and Dan got up. “It’s no good blaming each other,” he said. “Let’s look on the bright side. We’ve lost your uncle, but we’ve two fine horses. What we need now is a good breakfast, some different clothes, and a new plan.” He nudged Alice gently, not wanting to see her cross. They were stuck with each other for the time being. “And you never know. Maybe it’ll be that Captain Ffrench who gets charge of Uncle Frank and not Major Slavering,” hesaid, and this was generous of him, for the thought of Hew was still irksome. “If he puts the colonel’s head back on the Bar, at least he’ll do it nicely.”
    Dan’s face was so honest and sensible, and he was trying so hard, Alice was ashamed of herself. She gave him a gentle hug. “You’re right, Dan Skinslicer,” she said, “and what’s more, you are a good man to have in moments of trouble—even if you can’t ride.”
    â€œI can learn,” said Dan stoutly, returning Alice’s hug with an awkwardness that had nothing to do with his injured shoulder. He extricated himself and eyed the major’s horse balefully. “At least, I suppose I could learn. I’m really better with ponies and carts. These horses are too grand for me and this one knows it.”
    Alice laughed. “I’ll make a horseman out of you before we get to Towneley,” she promised, swishing her bare legs through the reeds. “Now. Clothes, food—and Uncle Frank’s head. Which will you take charge of?”
    Dan sighed. Alice was not going to give up. “All of them,” he said, “but I’ll walk back into town on my own. There’s lots of folk about so nobody will notice a scruffy man on foot and I know my way around better than you. I’ll see what I can pick up.”
    â€œDo you have enough money?”
    Dan felt in his pouch. “I have none,” he said sorrowfully. “It must have all emptied itself in that dratted basket.”
    â€œI have lost mine too,” said Alice. She opened her eyes, all innocence. “So how will somebody who disapproves of stealing get what we need?” She couldn’t resist teasing.
    â€œI’ll do it my own way,” said Dan, turning rather grumpy, “and anyway, this is different. This is an emergency.”
    â€œAt least we can agree about that.” Alice took one large hand between both of hers to rub his temper away, then she got up. “I want to come with you, but I suppose somebody has to keep the horses. Be back by evening, Dan Skinslicer. If you’re not, I shall come looking for you.”
    Quick as a flash, Dan was in front of her, seizing her and looking her square in the face. “If I’m not back by evening,” he said, deadly serious, “Uncle Frank’s head or no Uncle Frank’s head, you get on that horse and ride as fast and hard as you can over those hills until you get home. You hear me? You ride straight home. I’ll not go unless you promise me, on the dead colonel’s soul, to do