Free Bringing Ezra Back by Cynthia DeFelice Page B

poor dear. His life has been so unfortunate, how could we deny him the chance to better himself?”
    She paused, appearing quite pleased with herself, and looked from me to Mr. Trask and back. Mr. Trask, who was also smiling now, nodded.
    â€œYou mean he’s not here?” I asked dumbly, not quite taking in what I was hearing. I tried to remember exactly what I’d overheard them saying. There’d been something about “the Injun,” I was sure.
    â€œNot anymore, dearie,” said Mrs. Trask, pulling a mournful face. “We did what was best for him, with no thought at all for ourselves. He was our biggest draw, you see. It wasn’t easy for us to let him go, you can believe that.” She sighed, and gave a little shrug.
    But the thing was, I didn’t believe her. Ezra was there, I knew it. I could feel it. Was I reading Lovey Trask right? I thought I was. So I said, “But I’ve come from Vestry and he was with you then. That was just three days back.”
    â€œOh, yes, indeed, he was still with us then,” she said. The sharp look had come back to her eyes. “But, you see, it was in Vestry that the other show folks saw your friend and made their offer. So we parted ways there, wishing him Godspeed and good fortune. And here we are, without our main attraction, but happy in the knowledge that Ezra is headed for bigger and better things.”
    â€œPerhaps,” Hiram Trask added, “if you left right away, you could catch up to them. They were going northeast toward Boston, I believe.”
    â€œI reckon I’ll do that,” I said. “Northeast, you say?” I pretended I was thinking it over. “Yes, I believe I’ll try and catch up. Thank you kindly for the information, Mr. and Mrs. Trask.”
    â€œOh, shush, it was nothing,” said Mrs. Trask. “And it’s Lovey and Hiram, remember? Any friend of Ezra Ketcham’s is a friend to us. Do give him our best, won’t you? We thought of him as family, Hiram and I did.”
    I started to go, then turned back like I’d just thought of something. “Too bad I’ll be on the road tonight,” I said. “I’d have liked to see the show. What time does it begin anyhow?”
    â€œEight o’clock,” said Hiram. “But you’ll be well on your way by then, I imagine.”
    â€œI reckon so,” I said. “I aim to go a good distance before nightfall.”
    â€œSafe travels, dearie!” called Lovey.
    â€œI thank you!” I called back.
    Beckwith had told me I wasn’t a good liar, and maybe I wasn’t. I’d have to have a lot of practice to be as good at it as the Trasks. But I figured I’d done all right.

11
    MY HEAD WAS BOILING like a tub on washday as I ran back to where Beckwith had set up camp. I was near as mad as I’d ever been in my life. It had taken every bit of my will to hold back from running to the other wagons and searching them till I found where they were keeping Ezra.
    I’d stopped myself, and it wasn’t only ’cause of Hiram’s rifle. I aimed to get Ezra free of the Trasks, and I needed to think out a plan. Already one was starting to take shape in my mind.
    Beckwith was washed and dressed and slicking back his hair with a comb when I showed up. Like the show folks, he had a line hung up with some clothes airing, and a fire going. I poured out the whole story of what I’d seen and heard.
    â€œSo I figure we’ll go back there tonight, when the Trasks will have Ezra out in plain sight for the show,” I went on. “They can’t say he ain’t there in front of all the other folks who’ll be looking right at him. And, anyhow, soon as he sees me, that’ll be the end of it.”
    â€œThose Trasks stated clear that he wasn’t there,” Beckwith said. “What makes you so sure he is?”
    â€œIf you’d been there, you’d have known those