“Wildcat cursed. “Shuts up. They’s here.” Robin went to James’s side, helped him up, and handed him a rag to dab his watering eyes. He had been right. He had tried to convince himself that the deal with the Indians he had witnessed earlier wasn’t what he had thought. He had tried to make himself believe something else. He stepped back, lowering the rag, pulling free from Robin. Through blurred vision tried to find the old man. “That’s not molasses. It’s whiskey!” “Get to the wagon, boy. You, too..., Robin.” “But—” Robin pulled him away, then pushed him toward the wagon. He tried to resist, but his eyes hurt too much. For a moment, he thought maybe he had been blinded, but slowly the tears flushed out the terrible whiskey. “You didn’t swaller none, did you?” It took a while before he realized Robin had asked him the question. “No.” He shook his head. His eyes had swallowed the handful that splashed into his face. “Climb up.” They had reached the front of the wagon.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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