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Show The next thing he remembered was a gentle touch on his shoulder. "Wake up," urged a pleasant female voice. Port opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of Mrs. Davis. It was an easy face to look into, smooth olive complexion, dark hair and eyes, and warm smile. Port could feel her thigh against his arm as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you all right?" she asked. "No. I murdered a man." "Boggs had it coming," she said. "You shouldn't feel bad about shooting that rat." "I shot him in the back, in front of his wife and children. I feel so ashamed, so dirty, like I'll never get clean again." Port stopped, wondering won-dering why he was saying so much to a stranger. He realized he must have been drunk a long time, at least several days. They would explain why she was in his room. "You may have shot him," she said, "but you didn't kill hit- portsfrom Independences', is alive." ' i t "He couldn't be alive "PortJ ,. suddenly sitting up. 'Ishotkd ' the head." K t "He's alive all right, andr stronger every day. He's sw a complaint against you, Tfe $1,300 reward on your head,' "That's wonderful" p. screeched, jumping to his fee; "What's so wonderful ii having a reward on yourheti "I don't mean the reward plained Port, slippingintohisb! sers. "He's alive. I didn't m--him. That's wonderful. Godfe my prayer." "You prayed to save thenar.: shot?" the woman asked, I "Yes, afterwards, but with ' those balls in his head I didn'ttj it could be done. Isn't it wonderj "If you say so," the woraaiE as Port pulled on his boots. I (To beconlif:. |
