confusion than displeasure.
âHeâll do,â Ward said firmly.
âI hope youâre right,â the Highwayman answered without dropping his gaze from Rone. âSize could be a factor here.â
âHeâll do just fine. The Puppet Maker will work it out.â
âI hope so.â He turned to Ward. âWas everything in the suitcases?â
âIâll check them out after dinner. No need rushing.â Rone noticed a patient, almost gentle tone in his voice.
The Highwayman seemed perplexed. He nodded and turned back to Rone. âWard is absolutely right. There is no need to rush. I seem to have developed the tendency to hurry in my twilight yearsâas if I want to get on with it. Ward knows better. You listen to him. Each of us can still learn a great amount from Ward. Itâs been very heartening to see you. Yes, it has been very heartening.â The Highwayman turned and walked back through the door. Ward was already up the aisle and out of the church.
Rone caught up to him as they neared the mall.
âYou left the church open,â he reminded him.
âNo one will go very far with it.â Ward sat down on a cement bench facing the statue. He took an apple out of his back pocket and began paring it with a penknife. The sun had begun to set. A somewhat cooler, more arid breeze drifted across the grass.
âWell, what do you think of him?â asked Ward.
âI couldnât tell. He didnât say very much.â
âYouâre disappointed, arenât you? Disappointed and worried. Everything was all rah-rah until you met the hero of the game, eh?â
âI didnât say that.â
âI donât see you gushing with enthusiasm.â
âHe wasnât what I had expected.â
âIâll tell you something, Nephew: Stop expecting. Itâs better that way. It cuts down on the rate of disappointment.â
âYou seem more worried about him than I do.â
âThereâs a big blue ocean between worry and concernâIâm not worried. Heâs getting old. That in itself doesnât amount to a hill of beansâbut he knows heâs getting old, thatâs all thatâs bugging him. Heâs starting to think about time. Heâll get over it.â
âYou donât sound too sure.â
Ward looked up at him with a broad grin. âIâm sure, NephewâIâm very sure. Thereâs not much difference between him and a boxer. Ever see them jokers just before the fight? Theyâre trembling like a leaf. Wait till the bell sounds.â
âNothing seems wrong with you,â Rone said without wanting to.
âI fight a different kind of war. He knows what heâs doing. Heâll get us through okay.â
âYouâve been with him a long time, havenât you?â
âLong enough.â
âThen you must have known Sturdevant.â
âI knew him.â Ward was slicing the peeled apple into eighths.
âIt sounds like you didnât like him.â
âLook, if I give you all the answers at onceâCan we call the quiz show off?â
âIf thatâs the way you want it.â
âSturdevant was a fraud. He was none of the things people said about him. He wasnât a cold-blooded, sadistic killer. He was two thingsâa great con man and an incurable de generate. He had the knack of getting other people to do everything for him. He wasnât a bad strategist, but a one-man crusade he wasnât. He was also a coward. Yes sir, Nephew Charlie, a real coward. And he knew it. He stayed way behind the linesâif he was up front heâdâve shattered like glassâso he kept out of action and built up his own legends. He peddled more bullshit in World War II than Goebbels. His boys were goodâdamn goodâand he gets a given degree of credit for that. But for the rest, that man in there did most of the workâhe was