Free Moontrap - Don Berry by Don Berry

called upon to give a bit more of your time in the interests
of the community."
    "What now?" Monday said.
    "There are reports of a wild man in the hills
about here. In time it will probably be necessary to form a vigilance
committee to root him out."
    "What's he done?"
    "Done? Nothing, as yet. But the danger he
represents is clear enough."
    "Where the hell's the danger if he ain't done
anything?"
    "Monday, please. You are being deliberately
naive. For one thing the Indians are convinced he is the Wild Man,
from the absurd mythological time of the First People. You
understand, it causes unrest."
    " Who's seen him?"
    "He threatened one unfortunate in Oregon City
itself. The Indian reports he had blood running from his eyes, was
waving a rifle, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke."
    Monday looked up in surprise. "You believe
that?"
    " Of course not. The Indian is telling the story
for fifty cents. But that the man exists, there is no doubt."
    "Just some old solitary roamin' around,"
Monday said.
    " Doubtless. But that is precisely the question.
It is unnatural for a man to be what you call a solitary."
    "Maybe it is, maybe it ain't," Monday
muttered, looking down at the table again. "Man wants to run
'lone, leave 'm be. That's his business."
    Thurston stood at the table. "Fortunately,
Monday, it is not a question you are called upon to decide. A man
like that is not——whole. He is not in possession of his
faculties. When you speak in that way I am reminded of your mountain
background, and I find it discouraging. A man who 'runs 'lone' as you
phrase it, is a threat to those who would work together. He must be
dealt with. I should think that would be clear to you; in a sense it
has been the subject of our conversation."
    " Mr. Thurston, I ain't going to—"
    "Monday," Thurston said impatiently, "I
have no intention of arguing the point any further. You may be called
upon to assist in this matter, and I have every expectation that you
will do so. It should not be necessary to point out that your
relation to the community is involved in this request, too."
    Monday looked up finally. His hands remained tightly
laced on the table in front of him. "That sounds awful much like
a threat."
    Thurston shrugged. "Not in the least. I find
threats quite unnecessary. All that is required is a clear
understanding of the situation that exists. I had thought your
eyesight was improving, but I discover there are still areas of
blindness. I sincerely hope, for your sake, that the difficulty is
temporary. Good-by, Monday."
    He turned and walked quickly out the door. Monday
heard the rustle as he took up the reins and turned the horse back up
the trail. He listened until the sounds of the horse's hoofs on the
packed trail were no longer audible.
    He cradled his head in his hands and stared down at
the scarred table planks, tracing with his eyes the nicks and scrapes
of knives carelessly dropped, the darker stains of spilled coffee and
the blood of rare meat. Suddenly he raised his head at a sound near
the back of the house. In a moment Mary came through the door,
carrying the bucket.
    "How long you been back?" he asked.
    "I have just come." She went to the
cupboard at the back and got a leaf of paper to dump the berries on.
    "You didn't get much," Monday said, looking
at the small pile.
    " Many were not ripe," Mary said. "There
is enough for a pie, if we could get some flour."
    Monday put his head back in his hands. There was no
way to tell whether she had heard Thurston's comments or not. It was
one of the many things he would never know.
    "Mr. Thurston did not drink his coffee,"
Mary said, taking the full cup from the table.
    "He likes sugar in it, " Monday said.
    2
    He woke feeling dull and depressed in the morning. A
random thought came to him as he struggled up out of the darkness of
sleep, blurred by half-consciousness. They just won't leave me alone,
he thought blearily. Yesterday he had wakened clean and fresh, with
only the consciousness of