Page 52 of Runaway Hucow

But she had not come to the barn at this late hour to inspect the incoming telegrams. She had something else in mind. Something that needed to be done while Peyton wasn’t around.

Tess knelt in front of the desk.

A row of drawers ran down one side of the desk. Tess had taken a peek inside them earlier while she’d been working. The top drawer was stocked with extra rolls of ticker tape, enough to last several years. The middle drawer was filled with small tools that would come in handy for repairing the machine if necessary. The bottom drawer held spare parts—including, as Tess had discovered earlier that day, a telegraph key.

The key was the device a telegraph operator used for sending messages. It consisted of a small wooden base with a metal plate affixed to it, and a spring-loaded bar with a knob on top. By pressing the knob down quickly or slowly, the operator could transmit a series of short dits and longer dahs in order to send messages in Morse Code. Peyton had not connected this key to his telegraph machine because he’d never intended to send any messages—but he hadn’t thrown it away either. Maybe he’d planned to use it for spare parts at some point. Or maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to throw away a piece of technology, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant.

Tess lifted the telegraph key out of its drawer and set it atop the table. Then she opened the second drawer and took out a small flathead screwdriver.

She paused again.

This time, Tess was absolutely certain that she’d heard something. A strange, metallic creaking. She stood up and turned off the light. Then she waited.

A minute passed with no more sound.

Two minutes.

Three.

She turned the dial a hair’s breadth, and the bulb glowed with the dimmest possible light. She turned her attention back to the task at hand.

The telegraph machine was a different model than the one she’d used when she lived with her adopted father, but it didn’t take her long to figure out how to connect the key. She worked the ends of the two wires into the proper fittings and tightened the screws to hold them in place. Within a few minutes, she was ready to send her first message.

Now, only one question remained—what to send?

She’d thought about that a lot while she’d been lying in bed earlier. She remembered the code for the telegraph office in Lamentation, Arizona, but she knew her transmission would not go directly to that distant town. It would have to be passed from one telegraph station to the next, like relay racers passing a baton. That meant she would have to be very careful about her wording, since other telegraph operators would be able to see the transmission.

First of all, she knew she mustn’t give away the location of the valley. As much as she despised Roscoe, she understood the importance of protecting the secret herd, and she didn’t want to do anything to endanger the animals.

Second, she couldn’t use her name. She was a fugitive now, a runaway hucow. If anyone recognized her name, it would arouse unwanted suspicion.

At last, she decided upon the following message:

Dear Miss Duffy. This is Dr. B’s adopted daughter in Colorado. As you must know, doctor has passed. Had to change my travel plans, but am safe and well and ready to come to Lamentation. Could you retrieve me from the coordinates below? If so, please say when.

At the end of the message, Tess included a set of coordinates which she had found using the maps Peyton had tacked up on the walls of his workshop. The place was situated in the middle of a flat plain about forty miles south of the secluded valley. If Shannon Duffy agreed to meet her there with her airship, Tess would take the chestnut mare and ride to the designated coordinates at the appointed time. That way nobody, not even Shannon, would not know the exact location of the valley.

Tess mentally translated the message into Morse Code and tapped it out using the telegraph key. Once the message had been sent, she disconnected the key and put it back into the bottom drawer. Then she turned out the light.

She was just starting to head back down the walkway to the front of the barn when she heard the sound a third time and froze.

After a moment, a slow smile spread across Tess’s face as she realized what she was hearing. It was only the weathervane on top of the barn turning slightly as the breeze shifted direction. She shook her head at her own foolishness.

She went down the walkway and down the stairs to the entrance of the barn. She could still hear Spike snoring in the distance. As she’d done before, she waited for a cloud to hide the moon, then she raced back to the house and slipped inside.

She made it back into her bed without incident. A few minutes later, she was sound asleep.

CHAPTER 27

Spike paused to breathe in a lungful of fresh summer air. It was a beautiful day, a perfect one in fact, if one were only considering the weather. There were clouds in the sky, but not too many of them, just enough to temper the sun’s heat to a comfortable warmness. The lush plain that filled the center of the valley was alive with crickets, bees, and butterflies, and everywhere he looked, Spike saw bison, clustered together in groups of a dozen or more, happily grazing upon the green, green grass.

There was only one problem. The hucow was unhappy. She hadn’t actually said so, but Spike could tell. He was developing a sense for the female’s moods.

He leaned into the yoke of the wagon and continued onward.

The wagon Spike was pulling was a simple buckboard with four spoked wheels, and a special yoke designed to fit a bisonman’s shoulders. Spike and his brothers didn’t own any draft animals. With their immense size and strength, they didn’t really need any.

When Spike had taken the wagon down to the Walkers’ home earlier that morning, it had been loaded up with several cords of wood which Roscoe had split the previous day. Now Spike was making the return trip home, and the wagon was empty, save for one solitary passenger: Tess.