Demon's Pass Read Free

Illinois, he had farmed with mules, but he sold those when he made the decision to take the family West. He had then replaced the mules with a team of oxen.
    Parker thought it would be nice to have a horse, and the freedom to go wherever a horse could take you. What if he just kept this horse? With a good mount and a thousand dollars, he could get a start somewhere.
    And he wouldn’t have to go to an orphanage.
    But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he wouldn’t do it. No matter how he might justify it to himself, it would still be stealing . . . and worse, he would be stealing from a man who had helped him.
    By now Parker’s slow ride down the street had brought him to the livery barn. Turning in, he climbed down from the saddle and handed the horse over to the attendant who met him, a boy not much older than himself.
    â€œThis your horse?” the boy asked.
    â€œIt belongs to a friend.”
    â€œLooks like a good horse.”
    â€œHe sure is,” Parker said, almost possessively.
    â€œI ain’t seen you around here,” the livery attendant said as he took the horse’s reins.
    â€œI’ve never been here.”
    â€œYou’n your folks gonna live here?”
    â€œI . . . I don’t have any folks.”
    The boy looked around in surprise. “You an orphan?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’m only half an orphan. I got me a ma, but she sure ain’t much.”
    Parker gasped. He had never heard anyone speak so freely of their own mother.
    â€œYou think that’s evil of me, don’t you?” the boy asked.
    â€œI would never say anything like that about my ma. If she was still alive,” he added.
    â€œYeah, well, most mas is good, I guess. But my ma is what they call a whore. She works down at the Crystal Palace ’n when she’s not layin’ up with some man, she’s more’n likely drunk. But at least havin’ a ma . . . any kind of a ma . . . means I ain’t a orphan, so I don’t have to go live up on The Hill. Any ma’s all right if she keeps you offen The Hill.”
    â€œWhat’s The Hill?”
    â€œYou kiddin’? You an orphan ’n you ain’t never heard of The Hill? It’s the orphanage. It’s run by Ol’ Man Slayton. Jebediah Slayton. They say he’s the meanest man ever lived. He works the orphans till they’re ’bout ready to drop, ’n he beats ’em when he don’t think they’re workin’ hard enough. Just you wait. If you’re a orphan like you say you are, ’n you’re movin’ here, you’ll find out soon enough.”
    â€œMaybe I won’t go to the orphanage,” Parker said.
    â€œIf you stay here, you’ll more’n likely have to. Seems like that’s the law or somethin’.” The boy looked at the sky. “It’s fixin’ to rain somethin’ fierce. If you ain’t got a place to get out of it, you can stay here for a while.”
    â€œThanks,” Parker said. “I’ve got a place.”
    â€œBetter get to it then,” the stable boy said as he disappeared into the barn.
    At that moment the thunderclouds delivered on their promise, and the rain started coming down in sheets. Parker dashed across the street and up onto the wooden sidewalk. Many of the stores had roofs that overhung the sidewalk, so though Independence Avenue was already turning into a river of mud, Parker was able to return to the hotel without suffering too much from the weather. He stomped his feet just outside the door to make certain he had no mud on his shoes, then he went inside.
    The hotel lobby seemed huge to him. There were a dozen or more chairs and sofas scattered about, several potted plants, mirrors on the walls, and a grand, elegant staircase rising to the second floor. Parker looked around for a moment, taking in all the images of this, his first time in a hotel. Then he saw a counter and a