Her lower lip quivered, and I was afraid she was going to cry. "Get back in the carriage," I said to her. "And be quiet. We won't hurt you."She looked...at the men in the deep ditch, and George yanked her toward the steps, pushed her inside and closed the door."You want to drive?" I asked. He nodded as we tied our horses on behind. "Let's get going before someone comes along. Head for the old Roberts' barn." Good idea," he said, hoisting himself up to the seat. "Save some for me."The woman and I. He walked down toward the mouth of Rock Creek in the steady rain with his hat pulled low. At least, Beall thought, Georgetown smells better when it rains. Where the street curved toward the bridge, he saw the ironmonger's sign and headed for that shop's doorway. He shook off his hat and went in to a large store with a floor of wide pine planks. Bins of iron bars and roughly bloomed pigs of various sizes lined one wall, and big, black cooking pots dangled from the rafters. In front of the. More

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