Red Prophet Page 0,89

here!" shouted Measure. "I wouldn't be surprised if you got them Chok-Taw to capture us in the first place!"

"If that's true," said Harrison, "then if I were you I'd watch how I talked and what I said. I'd be real worried about getting home alive, ever. Now look at yourself, boy. Skin red as a redbird, wearing a loincloth, looking wild as a real bad dream. No, I reckon if it turned out you was shot dead by mistake, nobody'd blame us, not a soul."

"My father'd know," said Measure. "You can't fool him with a lie like that, Harrison. And Armor-of-God, he'll - "

"Armor-of-God? That pathetic weakling? The one who keeps telling people that Ta-Kumsaw and the Prophet are innocent, and we shouldn't be getting ready to wipe them out? Nobody listens to him no more, Measure."

"They will. Alvin's alive, and you'll never catch him."

"Why not?"

"Cause he's with Ta-Kumsaw."

"Ah, and where is that?"

"Not around here; you can bet."

"You've seen him? And the Prophet?"

The hungry look in Harrison's eyes made Measure kind of step back and hold his tongue. "I seen what I seen," said Measure. "And I'll say what I say."

"Say what I ask, or you'll be dead," said Harrison.

"Kill me, and I won't say nothing at all. But I'll tell you this. I saw the Prophet call a tornado out of a storm. I saw him walk on water. I saw him prophesy, and his prophecies all come true. He knows everything you plan to do. You think you're doing what you want, but you'll end up serving his purpose, you watch and see."

"What an idea," said Harrison, chuckling. "By that reckoning, boy, it serves his purpose for you to be in my hands, don't it?" He waved his hands, and the soldiers dragged him out of the house and down into the root cellar. They treated him real gentle on the way - kicked him and knocked him down and all they could before they threw him down the steps and barred the door behind him.

Since these folks came from Carthage country, the cellar door had a lock, as well as the bar. Down with the carrots, potatoes, and spiders, Measure tested that door as best he-could. His whole body was one big ache. All the scratches and the sunburn were nothing compared to the raw skin inside his thighs from riding behind with bare legs. And that was nothing compared to the pain from the kicks and bashes they gave him on the way here.

Measure didn't waste no more time. He knew what was going on well enough to know Harrison couldn't let him out alive. He had those scouts out looking for him and Alvin. If they turned up alive, it would undo all his plans, and that'd be a real shame, cause things were going just right for Harrison. After all these years, here he was at Vigor Church, training the local men to be soldiers, while nobody was listening to Armor-of-God at all. Measure didn't much like the Prophet, but compared to Harrison the Prophet was a saint.

Or was he? The Prophet had him wait for the gatlopp - why? So he'd leave in the afternoon two days ago, instead of morning. So he'd reach the Tippy-Canoe just when them soldiers were riding down. Otherwise he would've come to Prophetstown and then hopped on over into Vigor Church without seeing a soldier. They'd never have found him, if he hadn't heard them and called out to them himself Was this all part of the Prophet's plan? Well, so what if it was? Maybe the Prophet's plan was a good thing, and maybe it wasn't - so far Measure didn't think too highly of it. But he sure wasn't going to sit around in a root cellar waiting to see how the plan worked out.

He burrowed his way through the potatoes to the back of the cellar. There was more spiderwebs in his face and hair than he cared for, but this wasn't a time to worry about tidiness. Pretty soon he cleared him a space at the back, with the potatoes pushed mostly to the front. When they opened the doors, they'd just see a lot of potatoes. Not a sign of his digging.

The root cellar was the normal kind. Dug out, timbered over, roofed, and then the roof covered up with all the dirt from the hole. He could dig into the back wall and come up behind the cellar,