Chapter 56: Downes
Because the two-human-and-a-rat combination looked too much like a Bounty Hunter hauling in a wanted man, they couldn't buy train tickets. In the end the pair decided to ride horseback on the long trek back to Valentine.
Time flew; three days vanished in the blink of an eye.
At last they reached the river beside the Rachie cabin.
Johnny reined in, glanced back at Valerie at his side, and said gravely:
Make camp in the forest nearby.
Once I reach the spot, if you hear gunshots from the eastern hills, ride to me at once.
With that he patted his horse and galloped off toward Valentine alone.
It was evening; the slanting sun washed the land in gold.
Though the journey had been grueling, Johnny knew the plan was too important to botch; another chance might never come.
Soon he reached Valentine without incident.
He eased his pace, triggered Eagle Eye, and swept the town.
Seeing no Gang horses inside or out, he let out a small breath, dismounted, and walked toward the general store.
As he drew near, a loud, ringing voice struck his ears.
There at a table stood Downes, holding forth with dazzling eloquence to nobody in particular:
Let us prove we do not live on some savage frontier! Prove we care for one another!
Watching the fired-up Downes, Johnny's mouth curved in satisfaction—his play was half-successful.
He pulled a bandanna from his coat, covered nose and mouth, and strode forward, eyes hard. The man started to yell for help, then froze—the figure was unmistakable.
The whole of Valentine knew that 6'5" frame: Johnny, the man who had thrashed Tommy in the saloon.
Hey, Mr. Van der Linde! Bees get you? Downes asked, concerned.
Johnny's voice shook with anguish.
Mr. Downes, forget the bandanna. My cousin—Saint Denis aristocrat—has fallen into a mad cult.
They're convinced they must burn huge piles of money as offerings, or they'll never reach paradise after death!
Tears spilled as Johnny grew more agitated.
He seized Downes's arm.
Please, talk him back to his senses. When it's over I'll donate most of my own money to your charity—my solemn word!
The offer made Downes's heart leap; his fund-raising had stalled, the committee was muttering about expelling him, and here was a chance to save both a soul and his position.
He scarcely hesitated.
Saving the cousin and rescuing his own cause—why refuse?
Besides, though Johnny fought like a lion, a calm word could always stop him, and afterward he paid for damages like a gentleman.
A trustworthy sort, in short.
Johnny smiled, content to let Downes clear his table first.
Afraid Johnny would notice the lockbox was empty, Downes waved it off with forced cheer:
Forget this junk—one leaflet's enough!
He flourished the scrap like a treasure.
Minutes later Johnny spurred his horse, Downes behind him, racing for Rachie cabin.
They arrived quickly, dismounted, and Johnny clasped Downes's hand.
That shack ahead holds the man I beg you to save.
Bring him back to reason, I implore you!
Leave it to me, friend! Downes declared, chest out, and marched toward the hovel.
Johnny tethered his horse to a distant tree, drew a fine telescope, and focused on the door.
Downes knocked.
Anyone home? The door flew open before he finished.
Little Edmond peered left and right, then pulled Downes inside.
Moments later a ghastly shriek tore through the timber walls—bone-chilling, soul-piercing.
Guilt stabbed Johnny outside.
For an instant his conscience wavered.
Then the memory of Arthur's brutal death hardened him again.
The wretch in that shack had caused it.
If Downes lived on, it would haunt both their lives.
So let Downes suffer; Johnny would shoulder the blame.
He drew a steady breath and waited for the end.
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