James Chase - Miss Shumway Waves a Wand

Ansell shot out of the hut, white to the lips. He came running over to me and when he could get his breath he stammered: “Let me look at her.”

“You leave her alone,” I said. “You’ve done enough already. Here, Bogle, hold her while I mount.” I climbed up on to my horse and Bogle hoisted Myra on to the saddle.

“What’s the matter with her?” Bogle said. There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

“I don’t know,” I said, wheeling away from him. “Let’s get out of here. If I have any more of this stink, I’ll go crazy.”

Kicking my horse into a canter, I rode out across the broad plateau. Ansell and Bogle followed closely behind me.

Once clear of the Indian village, I pulled up in the last of the shade before crossing the plateau. I slid to the ground, supporting Myra and made her as comfortable as I could under a tree.

“Take a look at her, Doc,” I said uneasily, holding her warm hand in mine.

Ansell came and knelt beside me, while Bogle gathered the bridles of our horses and stood uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other.

“What’s the matter with her?” I asked. “Do something, will you?”

Ansell took her pulse, raised her eyelid and sat back on his heels. “She’s in some kind of trance,” he said slowly. “We’ll have to get her to bed as quickly as we can. There’s nothing I can do here.” He looked at her again and scratched his chin. “She’s quite normal. Pulse good, breathing regular.” He shook his head. “We’ll have to go on. The risk of sunstroke’s too great out here.”

“What’s been happening?” I said. “Why is she like this? What’s the explanation?”

Ansell stood up. “I don’t know. It’s no use talking now. We’ve got to get her back to the inn.”

I picked her up again. “Do you think she’ll stand the journey?”

“Don’t worry, man. I tell you there’s nothing the matter with her. She’s in a hypnotic trance. She’ll wake up in a few hours.”

I looked at him searchingly, saw the worried look in his eyes and I felt a chill of despair. “I hope you’re right,” I said and gave her to him to hold while I mounted.

The journey across the plateau was hard going. The beat cut into us and I found Myra’s weight exhausting, but we made it at last.

Myra was still unconscious when we reached the inn.

Bogle said uneasily: “I don’t like seeing her like that even though she’s a sour puss. It don’t seem natural.”

While he was helping me dismount, Ansell went on in and called the innkeeper. He came out in a few minutes. “They’re getting a room ready for her,” he said. “Bring her up. I’ll show you where it is.”

The innkeeper’s wife was waiting in a small, quiet room which was cool and shady and flowers stood on a table by the window.

I put Myra gently on the bed. “Look after her,” I said to the woman. “Get her to bed.”

Leaving Ansell to help the woman, I went downstairs and joined Bogle on the verandah. I ordered two large beers and then sat down a little wearily on the iron bench by Bogle’s side.

“Think she’ll be all right?” Bogle asked.

I was surprised at the concern in his voice.

“I guess so,” I said, not feeling much like talking. “I don’t know.”

There was a pause, then Bogle said: “What do you think was in that hut?”

I mopped my face and neck with my handkerchief. “I haven’t thought about it,” I returned shortly, because I didn’t want to think about it.

He fidgeted for a moment. “You don’t believe that witchcraft stuff Doc was talking about, do you?”

“Hell, no!”

He seemed relieved. “Do you think she’s got the snake-bite dope?”

I’d forgotten all about that. I sat up with a jerk. I remembered that I’d have Bastino on my hands to-morrow. He would be coming down from the hills to discuss the final move for the kidnapping. Thinking of Myra up there in that little room and seeing in my mind her white, strained face made the kidnapping impossible. I couldn’t submit her to another shock. Then, on the other hand, there was the 25,000 dollars I’d have to pass up and maybe get fired for queering Maddox’s stunt.

It seemed to me that I was in a sweet jam, all of a sudden.

Before I could begin to think about it, Ansell came down.

“How is she?” I asked, hurriedly getting to my feet.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Ansell said, sitting down. He snapped his fingers at the little Mexican girl who acted as waiter and pointed to my half-finished beer. “She’ll be okay in a couple of hours. She’s beginning to recover now.” He shook his head, “I can’t make this out. How did Quintl die? Was he wounded or anything?”

I grimaced. “I don’t even want to think about him,” I said. “How long do you think he’s been dead?”

“I don’t know. In that heat, without ventilation, he need not have been dead very long.”

“Do you realize that this might affect her mind?” I said suddenly. “We’ve done a hell of a thing to that girl. There was something filthy in that hut. I swear there was someone in there when I looked into the room where she was lying.”

“It’s easy to imagine a thing like that in the light of a match,” Ansell said, quietly. “There was no one there except Myra. I looked. There was no place for anyone to hide.”

“I’m not explaining it, I’m telling you,” I said angrily. “I don’t like any of it. Do you know what? I feel we’re butting into something we don’t understand.”

The Mexican girl brought Ansell his beer and he took a long pull at it. “You’re on edge,” he said. “We’re not butting into anything. That’s no way to talk.”

I looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You’re lying, Doc,” I said evenly. “You’re as scared as I am. Only you haven’t got the guts to admit it. Something happened in that hut that killed the old Indian. Some power of evil’s loose. I felt it behind me all across the plateau. Just like someone was trying to get her away from me. Just like someone’s hands were pulling her out of the saddle.”

Bogle dropped his glass. “Wadjer mean?” he gasped, his eyes bolting out of his head.

“I wish I knew,” I said, kicking back my chair. “I’m going up to see her.”

I found Myra lying in bed. A small electric fan whirred busily just above her head and the blind was drawn against the hot afternoon sun.

I drew up a chair. As I sat down, she opened her eyes and blinked lazily.

I said: “Hello.”

A puzzled frown knitted her brow and she raised her head, looking at me. “Hello,” she said.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, I just looked in,” I said, smiling at her. “You feeling all right?”

She pushed down the sheet and raised herself on her elbows. She was wearing a pair of Ansell’s pyjamas. They were a lot too big for her.

“Am I supposed to be ill?” she asked, then the caught sight of the pyjamas. “What in the world…?”

The puzzled expression changed to alarm. “How did I get into these? What’s been happening?”

“Don’t get excited,” I said. “You’re back in the inn again. We came and took you away from Quintl. You remember him?”

“Why, of course. Why did you take me away? Why didn’t I wake up?” She ran her slim fingers through her hair. What’s been happening? Don’t sit there looking like a tired sardine. Tell me.”

“We found you asleep and we couldn’t wake you. So we just carried you off.”

“You couldn’t wake me?”

“Suppose you tell me what happened to you. Then I’ll know where we are.”

She frowned, “Why, nothing happened to me,” she said. “At least, I don’t think so.” She pressed her eyelids with her fingers and frowned. “You know I really can’t remember. Isn’t that stupid? The old Indian rather frightened me. He liked my tricks. Oh, I gave him the show of my life. I was never better. I wish you could have seen his face. I was a tremendous success. Then he took me to a little rock building. I thought Doc and Samuel were following, but I didn’t see them again. He left me in this place and I was lonely. I really hated it, especially when it got dark. I lay on a kind of bed and went to sleep. I don’t remember anything else.”