Dallas Run

Chapter Twenty-One

He answered the knock on the cabin door, wondering who would be paying them a visit at such a late hour. His wizened features creased into a smile when the light from the lantern in his left hand illuminated their faces. “Nathan! Geronimo! You’ve returned safely.”

“Yep,” Hickok responded. “Sorry to be bothering you when it’s almost midnight, old-timer, but we figured you’d want us to report right away.”

Plato stared into the darkness. “Where’s Blade?”

“He’s fine,” Geronimo said. “He’s with Jenny and Gabe right this minute.”

“And we’re headin’ home ourselves,” Hickok mentioned. “I can’t wait to see my missus. She’ll be tickled pink that I’m back. Whenever we return from one of these runs, she can’t get enough of my pucker power.”

Geronimo glanced at the gunman. “Pucker power?”

“Never mind that,” Plato said impatiently. “How did Blade fare on the mission?”

“He acted as normal as me,” Hickok said.

“He did?” Plato declared, sounding worried.

“Yep. Except for dancin’ with a cow, he would’ve done Jim Bowie proud,” Hickok asserted.

Plato looked at Geronimo. “Can you translate?”

“Blade handled the mission efficiently. You have no reason to be concerned.”

“What about the plague?”

“There wasn’t one,” Geronimo answered.

“Yeah. It was just a bunch of yahoos who looked like walkin’ asparagus going around drinkin’ toxic chemicals and being unsociable,” Hickok elaborated.

“I see. I think,” Plato said. “Well, I don’t want to detain you. I know you’re eager to see your families.”

“See you in the morning,” Geronimo responded.

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Hickok quipped.

Plato smiled as he closed the door. He paused, listening to their conversation as they moved off.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything, pard. You know that.”

“What exactly is pucker power?”