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On the Trail: Part 3: Chapter 11

May 15, 2008 10:05

The following day, Benson roused everybody early in order to get a full day of riding. They had been riding for many days with real purpose, but Jack had no idea why. For the moment his mind dwelt on other matters. He now looked like all the others. To all appearances a desperado.

His blond hair was covered with the worn sweat stained Stetson of his late riding companion, Roper. For many days now he had not shaved so his face had a good growth of stubble. He had discarded his khaki tunic and, as instructed, wore the brown leather vest over his khaki shirt. His legs were now covered with large dark brown leather chaps. On his feet he retained his own sturdy brown military boots. He carried no shooter but in every other respect he resembled the others.

Cloud was saddled with a large western style saddle. In front of him on the right was a lariat. Directly behind his saddle was strapped his bedroll. Saddlebags on either side completed the picture. They carried whatever personal effects he had been able to scrounge. The men no longer bound his hands and since the night Roper departed, the conversation owed easily amongst them all, including Jack. This was how, after all this time, a sort of relationship got its beginnings between Pratt and Jack. To begin with Pratt was unlike the others in dress. His British accent seemed to separate him even more decisively. He adopted a somewhat lofty view toward his colleagues. Though he was often openly disdainful of the others he was more circumspect when dealing with Mr. Benson.

It seemed natural therefore that he and Jack increasingly brought up the rear. As they rode they talked and the more they talked, the more Jack got to know his riding companion.

David Ormsby Pratt was born the fourth son of an English Duke. Under the law of primogeniture he was not in line to succeed to the title of Duke. His oldest brother was destined for that. The estate was not large enough to provide occupation for anyone but the rst son. His grades were not such as would permit him to enter Oxford, or any other university for that matter. That left Sandhurst, the military college, or the church.

Sandhurst not being as tolerant of these things as were the colonies, he was asked to resign after three months for what was decreed “complete personal unsuitability for command.” That left the church and since he was agnostic, he turned from that with distaste.

It is what he turned to that became the problem, for at age twenty-one, he launched himself in the fast set in Mayfair as a dandy.

Numerous letters were received by his father complaining of his ‘trifling’ with various ladies. Warnings only fanned the flames. He turned to gambling and was well on the way to the life of a complete wastrel when the family had had enough. He was summoned from London to the country estate. He was given a choice: to be cut off without a cent or leave for America with a promised semi-annual remittance sufficient to keep body and soul together.

To the relief of his family he chose the latter, thereby sparing them further embarrassment. Mr. Pratt was a ‘remittance man’.

Jack listened to all of this sympathetically. He listened to the triumphs and conquests, and to the adventures in the new world. He listened to it all and like all good listeners he began to earn the good opinion and finally almost friendship of the strange outlaw. It was in this way that he confirmed their riding had not been aimless.

Jack was dismayed to learn that the information he had innocently provided about the ambush was the cause of this relentless ride. Pratt refused to divulge more. When Jack pressed, he became vague and finally refused to discuss it altogether. Whether he did this out of loyalty or plain fear of Mr. Benson, it was difficult for Jack to tell.

One thing that Pratt said bothered Jack considerably. Upon first seeing Jack mount up newly attired, he had said: “You look like one of us. I started like you, a prisoner. Look at me now.”

This caused Jack considerable thought. He reviewed his behaviour with the gang over and over. He finally decided he had done nothing wrong and carried no guilt for anything done since his kidnapping. But he resolved to escape as soon as possible and he was considerably comforted as he ran his hand down his right leg to the hard lump that was well concealed by folds in the chaps.

They had ordered him to wear the chaps. Little did they know that Roper, living always in fear, carried a revolver in a concealed pocket in the chaps. Benson had unwittingly provided the means for escape. Now Jack must nd the opportunity.

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