It was time to go. There is nothing to postpone. Time to go...

“Forgive me, Caleb.”

He was silent.

- Sorry. For those false hopes I could give you.

Sadly sighing, the couple went to the gorge. It was rather short, but it took a surprisingly long time to overcome it. Perhaps because they were walking slowly, reluctantly, as if through force. As a result, the gorge brought them to a spacious rounded platform, where an abandoned mining camp was located. There were a dozen huts that leaned on from time to time, a hastily made wooden house (probably for the brigadier), a fireplace in the center, a latrine in the side, rails stretching into the darkening mouth of the plaster gallery.

Well, to be precise, the camp was abandoned. But now it is inhabited again.

- Bah! Who I see! Our Beatrice is back! And not one! Well, well, Caleb. Welcome back.

***

"Strange feeling. She sits just a few meters away from me. But this is incredibly far. How do you just want to touch her ... ".

So, Caleb is reunited with his gang. Pretty dubious joy, as he quickly became convinced. Although everyone enthusiastically greeted him, embraced him, clapped him on the shoulder, he could not completely forgive them for that occasion. I had to pretend to smile. He didn’t count two people, he saw three people for the first time, but there was nothing surprising in that: with their craft, personnel replacements are a commonplace matter. He was comforted by one thing: Marty Thorndike, his old comrade, was the only one among the entire gathering whom he could surely call a friend. The only one he was sincerely glad to see, and this feeling was mutual. “Sorry, I couldn’t do anything then,” he whispered to Caleb in his ear. Caleb believed.

Soon after the travelers arrived, the sun disappeared over the horizon, but the mining camp did not plunge into darkness. A fire was set on fire, and a nine-man Mathias gang sat around on polished logs, casting oscillating shadows on the rocks surrounding them. Of course, it was not without some kind of celebration on the occasion of the return of comrades. Chewed meat and bread roasted on twigs. From hand to hand passed the bottle of bourbon and tequila. Caleb tried not to get drunk in the trash with unaccustomed, while Beatrice did not take a drop in her mouth at all. “She also refused to drink alcohol on farms. The stale sober right downright. " When the relaxed drunken atmosphere reigned, the men expressed a desire to find out how the couple managed to arrange an escape from San Prader. Beatrice took on the role of narrator. Standing in a circle of listeners with kiseru in hand, she spoke about the events that took place on that memorable Sunday, actively gesticulating and making faces. Her innate artistry, high syllable and, in fact, the keenness of the stated story threw the audience into raptures. When she finished, she bowed, as if she were really on the stage, and, under heavy applause, she sat down at her place near Matias. After that, the revelry slowly began to decline.

“Okay, guys.” We went with Beatrice. And you do not stay up. Tomorrow in the morning we will move to El Paso, otherwise we’ve been sitting here already. Good night, ”Matthias said goodbye and, together with Beatrice, went to a wooden house. He held his arm around her waist. Caleb thought he heard the gnashing of his teeth.

Either everyone heeded the advice, they simply got tired or bored, but soon one after another the gangsters left the fire and fell asleep under the huts. However, Caleb could not sleep. He was shaking, he could not find a place for himself, could not calm down and smoked one roll-up after another.Reason painted bold pictures of what Gill did with Beatrice now. Jealousy was boiling in it with boiling lava.

- What is sour such? - suddenly there was a voice nearby. It was Marty, imperceptibly coming up from the back. In his hands were two steaming mugs, and one he held out to a friend. - On, be treated.

- Thank you. Mm, seagulls. And you do not change. It tastes like shit.

“I tried for you,” Marty smirked and sat down beside him.

To the cod fire was added melodic serbane. They were left alone, all the others had already gone to the side. It was past midnight. Caleb swallowed the tea and did not feel his taste, did not feel the hot liquid burning his throat. He answered the monotonously, without any hesitation, sometimes at all at random. Of course, such detachment was quickly noticed.

- Do you want to show the wonders of insight?

- Yeah ... I mean, what are you talking about?

- You are now all the hell out of what I said, did not hear, and all thoughts were there. - Marty pointed to the house with his hand. Caleb didn’t answer, but just filled up. “Just don't tell me that you have a crush on her?” Tell me I'm wrong.

- mock you up?

- Yes, no zhist. I'm seriously worried about you, man. Because if I was not mistaken, then you are waiting for a big bummer. This, forgive me, the little corset is connected with Matthias by some ... How better to put it? Obligations, I think. You do not shine with her.

- Thank you, damn it, great. You reassured me directly.

- What can you do? Accepted so from friends - cut the truth of the uterus. So throw this stupidity out of my head. Tomorrow we will go to El Paso, have some fun. And you take off there yourself some sultry beauty and ...

- Tell me about her.

- Eh? - Marty has already managed to imagine everything and lost a little thread of conversation.

- Tell me about Beatrice. About when and how she joined you. About these "obligations". I beg. - Caleb grabbed his friend in the hearts. A plea was read in his red eyes. - You were sincere with me. So be sincere to the end. I need to know.

“Good,” Marty agreed after a painfully long pause. Reluctantly, that was clearly visible. Scavenging two bottles of booze on the ground, he thrust one Caleb. “Since she’s so deep in your heart, I’ll tell you.” But I must warn you: you will most likely be incredibly hard to hear.