“Stop thief!” Mikos yelled.
I felt his hands clawing at my back as I flew past, but a short, stubby Greek guy is no match for a twelve year old boy in a wild panic.
We raced through the crowd and between wagons and tents, carving a zigzag path toward our horses. Martin stepped around the corner of his wagon into our path. “Grab the kid in the blue shirt!” he hollered, aiming his flame thrower at us. “Stop. I'm warning you.”
People were watching now. Hands grabbed at us as we streaked past. I felt the sleeve of my favorite shirt tear off and felt the heat of the flamethrower on my back. We crawled under the lion's wagon and sat there gasping. The tic-tac of the lion's claws over our heads stopped when we spoke. Two pairs of feet stopped beside us.
“Where'd they go?” one asked.
“Look. That's the friend isn't it?”
I held my breath.
“Where?”
“Right there, beside Roses' place.”
“Come on. You go right. I'll go left.” The feet raced away.
I started breathing again. “That was close,” I said.
“Lemme guess, you didn't tell 'em I didn't take the money?” Matt asked, every other word an inhaled breath. He still clutched the saddlebag to his chest.
“He wouldn't listen.”
“Nobody listens,” he said sourly.
“Let's just get to town and give it to the sheriff. He can straighten things out.”
“What if we just give it to them?”
I shook my head. “Mikos wouldn't let it rest now.”
“We can't go near the horses you know.”
“I was just thinking about that. It's the first place they'll expect us to go. Hey, I just remembered, Rose has two horses.”
I slipped into the open and raced toward Rose's wagon, keeping an eye out for our pursuers. We flew onto the horses, no saddles, and only the tether ropes as bridles.
Lying low against their necks, we trotted them through the crowd. Samson ran toward us, like a bull after a cow in season. He reached for my horse's rope. I kicked the horse in the ribs. He lunged forward striking Samson in the chest. Samson faltered just enough for us to slip past. But, the circus crew had formed their own posse and were fast making it through the crowd.
We galloped down the end of the midway and made tracks out of McGregor's field, toward town. It wouldn't be hard for them to follow our giant cloud of dust. I dared a look back. A second dust cloud was closing on us fast. We were on plump circus horses who weren't used to doing more than trot around inside the bigtop, or carry a pack or two on the road between towns. It wouldn't be long before they caught up to us. We needed to outsmart the posse.
“Let's separate. Meet me behind the Bleeker cabin,” I hollered, nudging the horse in the ribs. He snorted, but sped up a little. I aimed him into the woods where I knew there was a trail that would come out right behind the cabin. Matt veered the other way. His route would take longer, but would come out just across from it.
Behind that old abandoned cabin, we slid off the heaving, sweaty horses. I think we were breathing as hard as they were. Matt flung the saddlebag over his shoulder. “What do we do now?” he asked.
“We have to get to the sheriff. We can explain what happened and...”
“Jess, he's not going to listen to us, either.”
“Yes he will. We'll make him listen.”
“Look, they won't be far behind, and our trail will be easy to follow. I'll go out on the road, and distract them. You take the trail to town. Stay off the road.”
“Okay.” Matt tried to leap onto the horse, but it didn't want any of that. I braced it against a tree while he mounted.
Matt took a narrow unused trail which ended on Maple Street between Sheriff Benson's house and the barber shop. I went back toward McGregor's field, but stayed on the main road. It wasn't long before I spotted the dust cloud. It had to be them. There was a bend in the road just ahead. I kicked the horse into a gallop, which was no easy job, crossed through the thicket, and came out on the road directly in front of them.
“Hey, there's the thief's friend. Follow him,” one of them hollered.
They raced after me. I prayed none of them had guns.