A Grave for Lassiter by Loren Zane Grey Read Free Book Online

tell this one is doomed. If we fiddle around with him, we’ll be late for our date in Rowleyville.”
    â€œIf you and Rex think you can do without me, then . . . you just go on ahead!” the girl stormed. “I’m staying here. I intend on getting that bullet out of him.”
    Another man said, “Roma’s got her back bowed, Elihu. Give in to her.”
    â€œRex, I suppose you’re right, as usual.”
    â€œOne of you build me a fire,” the girl instructed. “I want boiling water. . . .”
    That was the last Lassiter remembered until someone thrust the folded edge of a gunnysack into his mouth and told him to bite down hard on it.
    He lay on his stomach, reasonably conscious until something sharp probed into his wound. Then he fainted.
    Consciousness came floating back in a jolting wagon. He lay in the wagon bed on a pile of blankets. He lay on his stomach. By turning his head he could look out the open back of a canvas cover and see a patch of blue sky.
    A young woman of about twenty years crawled into the wagon and looked at him closely. Her eyes were intensely black. “You’re awake,” she said, and smiled.
    â€œYeah,” he managed.
    â€œI got the bullet out.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œYou’ll be all right now.” She gave him some water and he slept.
    For supper he had broth from a stewed rabbit. Two days later he felt a small nudge of returning strength. For the first time he was able to assess his surroundings. He lay under a canvas lean-to. Nearby was a wagon decorated with fire-belching dragons against a background of yellow flames. DOCTOR ELIHU DEWITT AND HIS ELIXIR FROM ANCIENT CATHAY was painted in black letters on the side of the wagon.
    There was more that mentioned a long life, free from illness and pain.
    It was obvious that he had been picked up by a medicine show. He started to laugh, but contracting muscles for the effort brought a stab of pain.
    Roma was dancing in the center of a crowd. The audience was appreciative. Men stood with eyes wide, mouths agape. There were a few women, most of them buxom and jealous of Roma’s youth and beauty.
    Roma’s long black hair swung out from her body as she pivoted and dipped, eyes and white teeth flashing. She danced in time to a tom-tom a tall and slender man was beating. He had an aristocratic face and thinning hair. He wore a red tunic with yellow buttons.
    Roma tossed her head saucily, rolled her eyes and did a series of high kicks that revealed petticoats and pantaloons of a vivid red, as was her ruffled skirt. Dragons done in yellow thread decorated skirt and blouse. Long blue-black hair was drawn severely back from a high cheek-boned face and tied with a yellow ribbon.
    At the completion of the dance, Doc DeWitt, wearing a voluminous costume of faded red silk, stepped to a small platform at the rear of a wagon. In the tones of an elocutionist, he extolled the virtues of his elixir, lulling Lassiter to sleep.
    Then they were on the move again, from one town to another. One evening DeWitt brewed up another batch of his elixir, a concoction of roots and herbs he found along the way and carried in gunnysacks to dry.
    After a few more days, Lassiter got Roma aside. “I’ve got to go back.”
    She brushed aside her long hair. “You’re not strong enough.”
    â€œI’ll show you.”
    He started toward his horse, which stood with the other animals of the troupe. But he took no more than three bold steps when the ground slid out from under him.
    â€œI need to fatten you up,” Roma whispered, helping him to her tent. The snow fell against a full moon. Roma’s smile was wicked as she kissed him. “Other things I need to do for you also.”
    That night for the first time her soft breasts warmed his face. Later he wondered why Doc and Rex seemed to take no offense at the affection their star attraction had for a total stranger, but she