Read The Flesh of The Orchid for Free Online

rag out. Why don’t you grow up? You’ve still got a mind like a schoolboy.” He turned away and bent over the girl. As he moved her limbs, making sure she had no broken bones, she stirred.
    “Why don’t you undress her,” Roy sneered, “instead of just pawing her over?”
    Steve ignored him, although the back of his neck turned red. He felt the girl’s pulse. It was strong under his fingers and her skin felt feverish.
    “You’d better leave her, Steve,” Roy went on. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t.”
    “Oh, shut up,” Steve snapped, lifted the girl.
    “O.K., but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Roy returned, shrugging indifferently. “I’ve got a hunch she’s going to cause a hell of a lot of trouble. But why should I care ? It’ll be your headache.”
    Steve passed him and began his slow, careful walk to the van.
    Silver Fox Farm was set in an enclosed valley of mountain peaks on Blue Mountain Summit, eight thousand feet above sea level. It was reached by a dirt road that branched off the highway and wound for four or five miles through big boulders and pine trees until it terminated at Steve’s log cabin by the side of a lake, a pale blue sheet of water packed with mountain trout.
    A year back Steve had decided to throw up his job as an insurance salesman and breed foxes. He had saved money, discovered Blue Mountain Summit, bought the deed and moved in. The farm was still in its infancy, but Steve hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could afford to hire help. The worst part of the life was the utter loneliness of the place; to have no one but his dog to talk to from one day to the next.
    Roy’s coming should have solved the problem, but Steve was quick to realize that Roy was likely to be more of a nuisance than a companion. He was already beginning to regret the visit.
    Roy had looked the cabin over with sour eyes and then had slouched down to the lakeside without a word, leaving Steve to carry the unconscious girl into the cabin.
    But as soon as Steve was out of sight, Roy retraced his steps, ran to the Buick. He looked furtively towards the cabin, then raised the hood and unscrewed the head of the accelerator switch, snapped the leads, pocketed the switch. Closing the hoed, he lounged up to the wide verandah.
    He could hear his brother moving about somewhere in the cabin and he sidled into the big living-room, took in its rough comfort at a glance, crossed over to the gun-rack, which was equipped with an iron bar on a hinge and a padlock that, when locked, secured the guns in their rack. Roy fastened the padlock, pocketed the key.
    Steve came into the room a moment later.
    “Put your floosie to bed?” Roy asked jeeringly.
    “Cut it out,” Steve snapped. “I don’t like it, Roy, so park it in, will you?”
    Roy eyed him over, grinned.
    “That’s too bad,” he said; took out a cigarette, lit it.
    “I don’t know what’s the matter with you,” Steve “You’ve acted odd ever since we met.”
    “That’s too bad, too,” Roy said.
    Steve shrugged.
    “I’m going over to Doc Fleming,” he went on. “It’ll take me the best part of two hours. Keep an eye on her, will you ? She’s got concussion, I think, but she’ll be all right until I return.”
    “That certainly makes my day,” Roy sneered. “What do I do? Hold her hand and fan her with my hat?”
    “Come on, Roy,” Steve said, keeping his temper with difficulty. “I’ll get the Doc to bring his car and we’ll get her out of here. But while she is here you might try to be a little helpful.”
    “Sure,” Roy said. “You get off. I’ll keep her amused. Dames like me.”
    Steve gave him a hard look, went out.
    Roy watched his brother get into the van, try to start the engine and he grinned to himself.
    He was still lounging against the verandah doorway when Steve, hot and furious, came bounding up the steps.
    “You’ve been fooling with the van,” Steve snapped, planting himself in front of his