Chapter 11
Rath had breakfast cooking by the time Frank and Merle came out, both dressed. I looked at Frank, but he avoided my gaze and I knew he had Merle’s stuff running down his leg.
Salt pork, canned peaches, and biscuits with molasses were the fare. Merle sat next to Frank on upturned boxes that served as furnishings. Merle would occasionally whisper something to Frank, who would chuckle while keeping his head down. I did like that it distressed him to have revealed himself.
“How far up does the canyon go?” I asked of nobody in particular.
“Several miles,” said Rath. “It runs along the mountain a fair piece, then finally just disappears.”
“Anything up there worth shooting for supper?”
“Deer, coon, turkey,” said Merle. “You going hunting?”
“Might. Salt pork is okay on the trail, but since we’re settled in, fresh meat is sounding pretty good.”