These Honored Dead (A Lincoln and Speed Mystery #1) - Jonathan F. Putnam Page 0,101

toward the village. “After I made clear I wasn’t giving back the slave woman, they went off in search of food and lodging. Your sister was hysterical about her slave when I first took her, wouldn’t let go of her arm, but by the time we’d jolted all the way across the prairie, I think her sense of charity had vanished.” He laughed harshly.

I doubted this, but I didn’t doubt Martha’s ability to make a tactical retreat while pondering her next charge. So I left Hathaway without another word and strode up the hill to Decatur’s public square. One or two persons hurried along the far side of the green, but most of the populace of Decatur had, it seemed, headed inside this cool fall evening.

It had been a few years since I’d been in Decatur proper, and I thought I remembered two taverns plying their trade along the east side of the square. I headed off in that direction and saw, as I neared, that there were actually four public houses in a sorry row.

I walked into the first one I encountered. It was dimly lit and nearly deserted. “Martha?” I called out. “Martha, are you here?” The only person who responded was a young, ill-dressed woman standing near the entranceway, a glass in hand, who reached out to touch my arm and murmured, “I can be ‘Martha’ if you’d like.”

“Not what I’m looking for,” I said and quickly walked out.

The next public house in the row featured a large sign projecting sideways from the facade identifying it as the Hound’s Breath. This tavern was much better lit inside, with squat candlesticks burning on each table. A Union Jack was tacked to the wall behind the bar—the citizens of Decatur evidently more willing than most to forgive our recent enemy. There were several dozen people inside the low-ceilinged room, and it fairly roared with conversation.

“Martha?” I shouted out.

“Joshua!” came a welcome call from the corner. I rushed forward and my sister leapt into my arms. Her lavender lace dress and gloves were filthy, and her hair had been blown around wildly, but she’d never looked better to my eyes. We held each other tight, our tears of relief mingling.

“Is Miss Patterson with you?” I asked.

Martha nodded. “She’ll be back from the backhouse any minute. I’m so glad you’re here, Joshua. We need your help in rescuing Phillis.”

“I just came from talking to Hathaway,” I said. “He told me he’d sold her down the river already.”

“He’s lying. I’ve no doubt he means to sell her, but he hasn’t yet.”

I looked around the tavern and saw no sign of Jane. “You do realize, Martha, it was Miss Patterson who put Hathaway onto Phillis?”

“Impossible,” my sister said with emotion. “She would never do such a cruel thing. Besides, Jane’s the one who risked her own well-being by remaining with me when I wouldn’t leave Phillis’s side. She’s a heroine, not a villain.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “Jane’s helping her father escape justice. She stayed with you because she didn’t want to give Phillis a chance to tell you what she knows.”

“What could Phillis possibly know that—”

“Mr. Speed,” called Jane’s voice from behind us. “I must say I’m glad to see you. I’m afraid we’ve found ourselves in a pickle.”

Jane’s costume was just as soiled as Martha’s, but I saw a glint of steel in her eyes I’d never noticed before.

“Good evening, Miss Patterson,” I said with a bow. “I’m relieved to have found you both unharmed.”

“What happened at Father’s trial this afternoon?” Jane said. “Is there still time for me to testify? Father told me I’d have to, but then I happened upon that horrible man trying to snatch away your bondswoman and I couldn’t let Martha go after her unaccompanied.”

“I’m very grateful to you,” I said, ignoring Martha’s I-told-you-so look. “As it happens, the trial day ended awaiting your testimony. If you’re back in Springfield by daybreak, I think Lincoln can put you on the stand.”

“What a relief,” Jane said, expelling her breath. “Why don’t you join us for supper and then the three of us can ride back together. I wasn’t certain how we’d cross the prairie at night, just Miss Speed and I, but with you along to protect us, I’m sure we’ll be in safe hands.”

“I’m not leaving without Phillis,” said Martha.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” said Jane. “You heard your brother—the trial won’t wait for me. What if Father were to be convicted, where my testimony would have