The Winston Affair by Howard Fast Read Free Book Online

place, and then informed Adams that even though he had a message from the general, no answer was expected tonight, and the captain might as well finish shaving.
    â€œSit down and make yourself comfortable, Candyman,” Adams said. “There are cigarettes on the table.”
    â€œThank you, sir.” Candyman chose a high-backed chair of teakwood, cane and purple velvet. “This is quite a place. I couldn’t sleep in a room like this myself, Captain—not alone.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œWell, it’s the way you always hoped and dreamed that a first-class cat house would be. I wouldn’t be able to close the door behind me without leaving a ten-dollar bill on the table.”
    â€œThat’s one way to look at it.”
    â€œOn the other hand, you’d think they’d put the comfort station in a separate room, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œThey have their ways and we have ours.”
    â€œI suppose so. It could be damned embarrassing under certain circumstances, but I agree with you. Live and let live, sir.” He helped himself to one of the captain’s cigarettes, lit it and blew out the smoke thoughtfully.
    â€œAre you satisfied with Baxter, Captain?” he asked.
    â€œHe’s a good driver and he knows the city.”
    â€œYeah, he can drive. But I had some doubts since this morning.”
    â€œWhy, Sergeant?” Adams asked curiously.
    â€œAh! He’s a hillbilly hood. He don’t know the right time. He could get to bother you.”
    â€œHe doesn’t bother me,” Adams said through the towel he was rubbing his face with. He put the towel back on the rack, and took the note Candyman handed him.
    Briefly and to the point, it read: “Barney, why in hell haven’t you seen Winston today? I suppose you know what you’re doing. I don’t. Just for the record, I had the Provost fill in. The document is enclosed.”
    Adams then looked at the enclosure: “I, Charles Allen Winston, do hereby state and declare that freely, of my own will and without any coercion or pressure, I do accept and approve the appointment of Captain Barney Dade Adams as my defense counsel during the general court-martial which will consider evidence in the accusation of murder placed against me.”
    This was typewritten on the official stationery of the Provost. After the statement, the name was typewritten again, and then came the signature in tiny half-askew letters. For a reason he was not to understand for some time to come, the short statement had a deep effect on Barney Adams. It depressed him and filled him with melancholy, as he stood there staring at it and reading it over.
    â€œSir?”
    He glanced up at Candyman.
    â€œDo you want to write a reply, Captain?”
    Adams shook his head. “No—just tell the general that I’ll see Lieutenant Winston some time tomorrow. It won’t be before late afternoon, I’m afraid. I’m taking the narrow gauge to Bachree in the morning.”

Thursday 5.30 A.M .
    At half-past five in the morning, with the mantle of night just stirring its edges, the Chaterje Station of the narrow gauge was as awake and tumultuous as if night had never been at all. In the smoky flare of pitch torches, bearers staggered along with their bales and bundles, hurrying as best they could to make the incoming train. The train was in sight, casting its long yellow beam of light up the track, hissing and shrieking and whistling.
    On the cowcatcher of the strange little locomotive, a brown man in a loincloth and nothing else was precariously perched; he acted as an auxiliary warning, and in between the hysterical clanging of the locomotive bell, he cupped his hands about his mouth and screamed, “Ai-eeee! Ai-eeee! Heads oop!”
    For a small man, he had a wonderfully far-reaching voice, a shrill, high-pitched voice that cut like a knife through a thousand other screams and shouts. A station