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Freeman looked at Linda. "Well?" |
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"We don't have any choice, do we?" |
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"Let's get with it," Freeman groused. |
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The procession of the soggy entourage to the Gull House came off with a minimum of hitches. Over Linda's frequent admonitions to "be careful," Bartholomew made it to the bed of the pickup. The diminutive Moxie propped him up on one side and the rotund Freeman held him up on the other. The cap over the bed of the truck kept the area reasonably dry, and the trio decided at the last minute to prop the battered lawman in the corner next to the cab. If anything was going to take an unexpected jolt, Freeman figured Bartholomew's spine had a better chance of surviving than the back of his skull. |
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Perhaps out of respect, but she suspected more out of a feeling of helplessness, Linda decided at the last minute to cover up Pasquel Morgan's mutilated body with a tattered flannel sheet she found in the old man s hall closet. If there was going to be anymore paying of final respects beyond that, it would have to wait till another time. |
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Getting out of the old house on the beach proved to be decidedly easier than getting Bart's battered six foot four inch frame up the steps to the Gull House. Even Gladys Ann had to lend a hand. With Moxie and Freeman |
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