The Railroad War Read Free

him fall back with his head on the pillow.
    â€œYou’ve got to rest now, Bobby,” she said gently. “We can talk later about you and your grandfather, and why he sent you here to find Alex Starbuck.”
    â€œI ain’t got time to rest!” Bobby said, his face contorting into a worried frown. “I got to find Mr. Starbuck and tell . . . tell him . . . Grandpa’s in . . . trouble.”
    Bobby’s last few words trailed off and were almost inaudible as his body sagged and his eyes closed and he lost consciousness again. Jessie placed a hand on his forehead as she and the men stood looking at the youth’s towel-draped form.
    â€œHe’s all right,” Jessie assured them. “Just very weak. He’ll sleep awhile, and I imagine he needs food. We haven’t any way of knowing how long it’s been since he ate last.”
    â€œDid anything he said make sense to you, Jessie?” Ki asked.
    Jessie shook her head. “I was hoping you’d understand it.”
    â€œI remember hearing your father mention Captain Tinker a few times,” Ki said. “But all I can recall is the name.”
    â€œThere are probably some entries in his old diaries that will give us a clue,” Jessie said. “I’ll see what I can find, after supper.”
    â€œDo you think I’d better stay here and keep an eye on Bobby?” Ki asked.
    â€œHe won’t need anyone with him while he’s asleep, Ki,” Jessie replied. “It’s safe to leave him by himself for a while. I’ll come in and change the towels every hour or so, to get some moisture back into his system. All he really needs besides that is rest, and food as soon as he can eat it.”
    Â 
    Jessie sighed as she placed the pocket-sized, black-bound book she’d just leafed through on top of the three she’d skimmed earlier. She leaned back in the big leather-upholstered chair that had been her father’s favorite, and closed her eyes. The chair had become her favorite, too, for it still bore the faint fragrance of Alex Starbuck’s cherry-flavored pipe tobacco.
    Jessie did not allow herself a long relaxation. On the table beside the chair were two stacks of Alex’s early diaries. The four books in the smaller stack were the ones she’d skimmed through since suppertime, and there were seven in the stack she’d not yet touched. She took the book that was on top of the larger stack and began leafing through it, reading rapidly, looking for the name of Captain Tinker.
    She’d thumbed through three books before she found the name, and then the entry was nothing more than a bare mention of Tinker as the skipper of a ship called the Sea Sprite, which had carried some of Alex’s cargoes of Oriental merchandise from the Far East to San Francisco, in the early days of his importing business. Finding the name in the fourth book had encouraged her, but as she started on the one she’d just picked up, the mantel clock struck ten, reminding her that it was time to look in on Bobby Tinker again.
    Laying the diary aside, Jessie went through the spacious living room and mounted the stairs. She’d left a night light in the hallway, and at the corridor’s end she noted that the door to Ki’s bedroom was closed, as were all the others except the bedroom where Bobby Tinker lay, which she’d left ajar. She went in and looked at the youth.
    He was still sleeping peacefully. Jessie felt his forehead and found that his fever was almost gone. She took a fresh wet towel from the pail beside the bed and spread it over him after removing the one that had covered him before. The windows of the room were open, and the breeze that had been warm when she’d changed the towels an hour earlier was beginning to blow cooler. Jessie stepped to the windows to pull them down, and stood for a moment looking out over the sleeping ranch.
    As they did on any ranch, days began before