On the dirt road they had to take to get back to 26, they turned around for a last look at Chimney Rock. Later, leafing through her books because she vaguely remembered a sentence that she’d read somewhere, the girl found the following passage in a short story by Carson McCullers: “His own life seemed so solitary, a fragile column supporting nothing amidst the wreckage of the years.”

It was in a story called “The Sojourner.”

XXI. Sheriff Waterman

XXI

Sheriff Waterman

An hour’s drive brought them to Scott’s Bluff.

It was an impressive cliff that, from a distance, resembled a fortress, with towers and parapets; at the summit, visitors had a fine view of the Platte River valley and of Mitchell’s Pass, which the emigrants took on their way to the Rockies. However, Jack and the girl were more interested in the museum at the foot of the cliff.

In the museum lobby a register lay open on a lectern. Jack signed his name and address. La Grande Sauterelle put down her name as Pitsémine. Then they went to the reception desk and asked to see the old registers.

The person at the information counter was a very young freckle-faced redhead, with her hair in two short braids that stuck out sideways like Pippi Longstocking.

She asked if they had authorization from the National Park Service.

“We don’t need that,” said La Grande Sauterelle.

“No?” asked the young girl.

“No. This man here is Sheriff Waterman,” she said lowering her voice.

The young girl gave them a conspiratorial smile that revealed a mouthful of braces.

“Top secret?” she whispered.

La Grande Sauterelle nodded.

Jack stepped to one side and pretended to be looking at a brochure on the history of Scott’s Bluff. The girls were talking amid muffled laughter.

“I don’t see any badge on his shirt,” said the young girl.

“It’s invisible,” whispered La Grande Sauterelle. “They make them invisible now, for security reasons. Understand? In the old days, a badge made you a cible for everybody. A cible . . . How do you say that?”

“A target?”

“Yes!”

The young girl opened a filing cabinet, took out a stack of old registers and set them on the counter. She asked if the man Sheriff Waterman was looking for was a “dangerous outlaw.”

“Very dangerous,” said La Grande Sauterelle.

“A killer?”

“Ssh!”

“SSH-H-H!”

La Grande Sauterelle opened the first register, and Jack came up to look over her shoulder. Even though the registers only went from May to September, it was a big job to examine the list of names. The girl looked at the left-hand page and the man the one on the right. They checked all the registers, but Théo’s name was not there.

Disappointed and tired, they decided to go outside.