“Myra’s bound to tell us about it, and naturally, we get pretty blamed worried. And the worrieder we get the worrieder she gets. We’re real concerned about what Lennie might do next, you know, like maybe taking a meat axe to people instead of just lying about ‘em. Or setting houses on fire. Or chasm’ little girls. Or—well, don’t you fret about it, honey.” I gave her a squeeze, and a pat on the bottom. “Everything’s goin’ to work out fine, but absolutely fine. I ain’t got a doubt in the world about it.”

Rose shrugged and said, well, maybe so; I knew Myra better than she did. Then, she snuggled up to me and bit my ear. And I kissed her, and pulled myself away.

“Lennie ain’t a real fast walker,” I explained. “I aim to cut cross-country and beat him back to town. Just in case, you know.”

“Just in case?” Rose frowned. “In case of what?”

“In case we need a clincher. Something that’ll sweep the last doubt out of Myra’s mind, if she should have a doubt. It ain’t even remotely likely that she will have. But when Lennie gets to the courthouse, just pantin’ to tell Myra about me bein’ out here, ain’t it a pretty good idea for me to be sittin’ in my office?”

Rose had to admit that it was, much as she hated to have me heave.

I promised we’d get together in a day or so. Then, I beat it out the door before I had to talk any more.

Naturally, I didn’t go back to town. I already knew what was going to happen there. What I wanted to see was what was going to happen here, although I already had a pretty good idea, and maybe to help it along a little if it needed helpin’.

I circled around through the fields until I reached the lane that came up from the road. Then, I hunkered down beside it in a clump of scrub mulberries, and waited.

About an hour and a half passed. I started to worry a little, wonderin’ if I could have been wrong, and then I heard the squeak of buggy wheels coming on fast.

I parted the bushes and peeked out. Lennie and Myra swept by, Myra clutching the horse’s reins, Lennie’s head lolling back and forth on his neck. He was carrying something on his lap, a black, box-like thing, and one of his hands clutched something that looked like a stick. I scratched my head, wonderin’ what the heck the stuff was—the box and the stick— and then the buggy had rolled past me, up and out of the lane and into the farmyard.

Myra whoa-ed the horse to a stop. She and Lennie climbed down from the buggy, and she trailed the reins over the horse’s head to keep it from wandering away. Then, she and Lennie crossed the yard and went up on the porch.

She banged on the door. It opened after a minute, and the lamplight outlined her face, white and purposeful-looking. She started to go in, then she took Lennie by the shoulder and shoved him in ahead of her. And at last I saw what he was carryin’.