“What’ll happen if he’s caught?”
Peewee rubbed his head. “Anyone leaves owing money generally gets a few lashes.”
“You’d have him whipped?”
Peewee raised his shoulders. “Can’t be helped. He done wrong by leaving, he has to answer for it.”
“Couldn’t you take the truck as payment?”
“Company ain’t gonna like it.”
“What if he don’t owe?”
“That would make a difference. He’s a free man to come and go, then.”
Del said, “Let’s check the commissary.”
They headed over to the building. Del had always known this to be standard practice at most camps. Runaways got treated as criminals, and he hoped for Cobb’s sake his debt was free and clear. Cornelia was behind the counter, and so was Otis.
Peewee said, “Hey, you up to date in your ledger, Otis?”
“Always.”
“Great. What’s on Cobb’s account? What’s he owe?”
Otis said, “I ain’t even got to look. He don’t owe nothing. He don’t buy much, and when he does, he pays cash. Been paying that a way since he got here.”
Del relaxed, but this only puzzled him more. What would make the kid come to a camp and do this sort of work if he had money?
Otis, always nosy, said, “Why?”
Peewee said, “He took off. Must’ve decided life at Swallow Hill won’t to his liking.”
Cornelia looked troubled, and Del thought he saw a hint of sad too.
He said, “By the way, how about the others who work for me?”
Otis flipped the pages with irritation, like it irked him to have to provide Del the information, but he read through the list one by one, and all of them owed at least five dollars or more. By the time they got their pay for a week and bought what they needed for the next week, it might fluctuate a few cents here and there, but they’d always owe. It was a vicious cycle, one his pap had worked hard to avoid, but still had, at one point or another, been indebted to some camp.
Del said, “Thanks,” and he and Peewee made their way back outside. The sun was down, and Del was drained. It had been a hard first day.
Peewee said, “Mrs. Ballard and them kids left this morning. She’s going to her sister’s. The place is yours if you want it. Can’t say it’s completely varmint free, but it’s definitely a step up from what you’re in now.” Peewee clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad you decided on being one of the boss men. We need more like Ballard. He knew how to get along and didn’t get worked up over things. I asked Ballard once how he got his men to do as good as them what got beat regular-like. He said, ‘They’re willing to work. They have to eat and provide for their families, no different than any other man. They’s God’s creatures too.’ I ain’t ever forgot that.”
Del was encouraged and began to believe he could possibly count on Peewee as an ally.
Peewee went on. “It don’t surprise me, not with Ballard, not considering his background ’fore he come here.”
“What was that?”
Peewee said, “He was a preacher who liked his liquor a bit too much, ’til one of his young’uns drowned in a river. Lost a bit of his religion afterward. He come here needing work, another chance. I said fine, gave him that chance.”
Del wished Ballard had lived and that he’d got to know him better. He might’ve told him about what he’d experienced in the grain bin. Maybe he could’ve made some sense out of it.
Peewee said, “Well, I’m calling it a day.”
He waved his hand, and Del went to where he’d left Ruby.
He tugged the reins gently and said, “Come on, old girl. Time for us to call it a day too.”
He took her to the barn, gave her plenty of water and feed, fastened the stall gate, and went out. It was a twilit evening with the first stars flickering, tiny pinpoints against a deep purple sky. Once he was at number forty-two, he considered Cobb’s little cabin, sitting silent and dark. The thought of the kid gone made him a bit glum. Though they hadn’t got to know each other well, he’d liked him just fine. The kid had standards, so to speak, and stood by them, an admirable trait. He’d shown no fear toward Otis, a much bigger man, and older. He wished he’d stuck around. He could’ve helped him with a couple techniques, maybe showed him a way to improve his tally.
Del had been thinking about that, and it’s what made him decide he wasn’t going to let someone like Crow keep him from improving conditions for himself. He gathered his few things and made his way back across the camp to the woods riders’ section. Crow was sitting on his steps as he was wont to do, dragging the tip of his knife under his nails. The sight brought back when Del first set eyes on him, only weeks ago, eating an apple, with that same wily look. Del had got used to the perpetual mockery that shaped the man’s features, but tonight, he believed there was a touch of scheming.