Название: The Face of Freedom
Автор: Benjamin Vance
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Исторические приключения
isbn: 9780985916831
isbn:
He was treated cordially by almost everyone that evening. He answered questions and tried not to be too aloof. It’s hard to be emotionless among so many happy people. There was some liquor involved. He could smell it. However, no one got out of hand and to him it seemed like a big family reunion with all the social intricacies of families. The meeting lasted late and he was obviously tired.
He was housed in a bunk house for men. He was shown to a small private room and made to feel comfortable. He always hesitated to try to sleep indoors since he knew the bad dreams would come. Nevertheless, he tried to stay down, so as not to disconcert his hosts.
6.
About 2:00 a.m. he got up and found a niche among pines to sleep. He met no one and was not challenged. The pine straw was dry and smelled like Linda. In the wee hours of the morning an old hound found him and lay with him. He found the hound’s neck, scratched a bit and the two old dogs slept soundly for about an hour. The brightness of morning brings out the bird sounds and although welcomed are not conducive to sleep. It always seemed to him they tried to catch up on the peeping they missed at night. They both stretched and yawned. One could smell and one could see. He thought they made a great pair.
As they were walking toward the clanging in the dining hall, Julie met them with a worried look, “I thought you left in the middle of the night. I went to your room … you weren’t there.”
“I was out looking for a good dog, and found one. He seems to like me for some reason.”
She grinned and leaned down to pet the old hound, “He’s been hanging around here forever. I don’t know where he came from. Everybody feeds him something and he gets petted by all the kids. He’s pretty aloof though. Always thought he was waiting for someone. I call him ‘Huckleberry’. You know the cartoon … never mind! Name him whatever you want. He comes anyway you call him. You gonna have some breakfast?”
“You buying?”
“Yep!”
“Okay then, let’s go. I hear the food’s great here.”
The three of them walked to the hall. The old hound stayed outside by the porch. The walker heard someone ask who the old hound was waiting for this time.
Breakfast was eggs, anyway you wanted them, as long as it was scrambled; bacon strips, beans, toast and home fries. It was fit for a king. He got the idea this was the way they always ate. Several of the ladies were slightly overweight, but who was he to … Julie said “Hi Mom!” to her mother, who was working behind the counter. The walker thought she was beautiful in her apron. She looked a bit like Linda would have looked if the Crone’s had let her put on weight.
The talk was small. He sensed Julie couldn’t wait to show him the “guts” of the shooting range. Much to the chagrin of Julie, her mother came out to sit with them after things slowed down some. He found that Altrise Parker was open, intelligent and kind hearted. She was a graduate of NYU. She thought she was going to be pre-law before she found Ridge, or Ridge found her. They met in one of her minor courses on Law and Society. He was going into politics and she was instantly in love. Ridge got an intern job with the governor’s office and they’d been willing residents ever since. Julie’s older brother was conceived in New York, and born in Montana.
Altrise was born and raised in Connecticut and Ridge in Jersey. They were a good fit. Although Ridge was only a state representative, he owned a lumber business in Great Falls. Apparently it was a lucrative one. He was seldom there though, because his son ran the business day to day. Altrise admitted their greatest aspirations were for Duncan to finish school and enter politics. He hadn’t finished college in Missoula, but was a genius in business. He’d grown the business in three years like his father hadn’t in fifteen before him. He loved the work; his father did not. That made a big difference; so said Julie, who wanted to be a veterinarian and didn‘t give a rat‘s behind about either business or politics.
The conversational patter was nice and the smells were reminiscent of anyone’s kitchen. It made him feel more at home than he’d felt in years. He sensed there was something very special, and beyond his reach, about the place. It was a strange and unwelcomed perception. It made him think of his folks and about his younger brother, Teddy, whose name he shared. His thoughts were interrupted by Julie, “When are we gonna look at the target movers Mr. Walker?” She flashed her toothiest grin for her mother and anyone else who might take it seriously.
The walker hesitated for a moment to let Altrice speak first. When she raised her eye brows shrugged her shoulders and otherwise deferred to him, he asked if they could be excused and told Altrise how much he had enjoyed her conversation and hospitality. He rose and asked if she would like to accompany them to look at the target range. Altrice declined, as he thought she might so he and Julie left the dining hall, which was closely guarded by an old hound, and started for the range. When he saw them disappearing, he changed his mind about what needed guarding and tagged along.
The range was on the fringe of the compound, if it could be called a compound. It was mostly just a loosely confederated group of separately built cottages. In fact several cottages were lined up much as a summer camp might have cottages lined up on a natural barrier like a stream or lake. However, there was nothing here but forest. There wasn’t even a small stream cutting through the property. Obviously, a well had been dug; maybe several.
He asked Julie if they could take a walk around the perimeter. She looked at him skeptically, but they took a walk anyway. She wasn’t even sure of the boundaries. At last they found themselves looking at the small device that was responsible for moving the targets laterally behind a protective dirt berm and in front of a series of nine target positions that were manually operated to move targets up and down to paste bullet holes and keep the action moving. There was a weather proof plug at each target station to plug in ear phones to listen to directions and requests from the firing line. There was a flag pole to raise the red “Range Hot” flag when firing was taking place, and there was a small enclosure housing the pulleys and other controls for four laterally moving targets. The door was open so they went in to investigate the “machinery guts” of the operation.
There was no light switch although there was an electrical service to the enclosure to power the motor and switches for proper operation. He thought it strange that no one would light the enclosure. The first things he requested were some electrical components and wire to install a one hundred watt bulb in the place. Julie thought she knew where to find the parts so she left to find them while he inspected the mechanism as best he could in the dim light. He propped the door open as wide as he could and with the extra light, and supervision by the hound, could see there had been little repair over the decades since the system was installed. The control cables were loose and probably jumped the track often.
The four target receivers were heavy, and one metal bracket had been bent so that targets couldn’t be inserted properly. When the rig was running right it would make a great moving target system. Two of the four targets were positioned side by side and when moving would move behind the other two so there were two targets moving west at the same time two targets were moving east. They would pass in the middle and continue until a trip switch caused them to move in the opposite direction and repeat the sequence. Four marksmen would concentrate on one target each or if there were just one or two firers they could alternate.
He finally realized why no light had been installed initially. There СКАЧАТЬ