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diff --git a/28454-h/28454-h.htm b/28454-h/28454-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f19ecc --- /dev/null +++ b/28454-h/28454-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8190 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Heart of the Blue Ridge, by Waldron Baily. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; text-align:center;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + hr.tb {border:none; margin-top: 2em;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.6em;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Heart of the Blue Ridge, by Waldron Baily + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Heart of the Blue Ridge + +Author: Waldron Baily + +Release Date: March 30, 2009 [EBook #28454] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEART OF THE BLUE RIDGE *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>Heart of the Blue Ridge</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table summary='credits' style='margin:auto; border-style:double; padding:20px; width:20em;'> +<tr><td> +<p style='font-variant:small-caps;'>The Illustrations Shown +in this Edition are Reproductions +of Scenes +from the Photo-Play of +“Heart of the Blue +Ridge,” with Clara Kimball +Young as the Heroine, +Under the Direction of +Lewis J. Selznick, to whom +The Publishers Desire to +Express Their Thanks and +Appreciation for Permission +to Use the Pictures.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 428px; height: 641px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 428px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +PLUTINA.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='credits' style='margin:auto; border-style:double; padding:20px;'> +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.2em;margin-top:15px;'>HEART OF THE</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.2em;margin-bottom:1.2em;'>BLUE RIDGE</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1em;'>BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;margin-bottom:3em;'>WALDRON BAILY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:50px;'>ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTOPLAY,<br /> +WITH CLARA KIMBALL YOUNG AS THE HEROINE,<br /> +UNDER THE DIRECTION OF LEWIS J. SELZNICK</p> +</td></tr> + +<tr><td align='center'> +<img alt='' src='images/illus-emb.png' /> +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.2em;margin-top:50px;'>NEW YORK</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.2em;'>PUBLISHERS</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;font-variant:small-caps;margin-top:20px;'>Copyright, 1915, by</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;'>W. J. WATT & COMPANY</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:0.8em;margin-top:20px;'>TO</p> +<p style='text-align:center; font-style:italic;font-size:1.2em;'>Irving Bacheller</p> +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:20px;'>WITH THE APPRECIATION OF THE AUTHOR</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>Heart of the Blue Ridge</h2> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<h2>HEART OF THE BLUE RIDGE</h2> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I' id='CHAPTER_I'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> +<p>Where the trail bent over a knoll, Zeke +halted, and put down from his shoulder +the hickory cudgel with its dangling +valise of black oilcloth—total of baggage with +which he was faring forth into the world. Then, +he straightened himself, and looked back over the +way he had come.</p> +<p>There, to the east, the dusk of night still lay +somberly, hardly touched by the coming dawn. +Through the shadows, the mountain masses loomed +formidable and mysterious, vaguely outlined against +the deeper gloom of valleys. The melancholy of the +scene seemed a fit setting for the cottage that rested +invisible within the forest, a half-mile distant from +him. In imagination, he saw the withered old +woman, his mother, still standing on the threshold, +looking toward him, even as he looked toward her, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +her heart warm with love, her every thought a +prayer for his happiness. It was borne in on Zeke +once again that she would be very lonely in her +desolate home, where death had spared to her only +this son.... And, now, he was gone from her! +A poignant sorrow welled in him.</p> +<p>Zeke thrust the emotion away, lest it unman him. +He faced about, drearily enough, and stood with +downcast, unseeing eyes, in anxious pondering. And +then, presently, assuagement was granted him. He +lifted his gaze, and behold! here was another world, +all of soft splendors, of throbbing radiance.</p> +<p>The eager beams of the unrisen sun shimmered +above the mountain ranges of the horizon, and +streamed toward the zenith in a panoply of harmonious +hues, colorful promise of the May morning’s +joyous mood. Of a sudden, under the soothing +influence, the watcher became listener as well. His +ears noted with delight the glad singing of the birds +in the wood around about. His glance caught the +white gleam of the tiny belled blossoms that clustered +on a crooked sour-wood by the path, and the penetrant +perfume of them stirred to life a new and +subtler emotion. A flame of tenderness burned in +the clear hazel of his eyes, as he stared out over +the trail before him. Under the increasing light +his gaze could distinguish the line of the valley a +mile further on, in which the Siddon cottage lay +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +hidden. His firmly-set lips relaxed abruptly into +a smile of wistful softness. He swung stick and +bag across his shoulder once again, and set off +briskly down the slope of the knoll. His thoughts +were no longer gray over the mother who mourned +his going: they were roseate with anticipations of +beholding the girl he loved. Now, the mood of the +morning danced in his blood. The palpitant desire +of all nature in the spring thrilled through his heart. +His mind was filled with a vision of her gracious +young loveliness, so soon to be present before him +at their meeting.... Their meeting—their +parting! At thought of that corollary, a cold despair +clutched the lad, a despair that was nothing like the +sedate sorrow over leaving his mother, a despair that +was physical sickness, wrenching, nauseating, but +passed beyond the physical to rack the deeps of +being. For the first time, jealousy surged hideous +in him, born of the realization that she must be +left exposed to the wooing of other men—she, the +utterly desirable! In a fierce impulse of mingled +fear and rage, he stopped short, and cried out:</p> +<p>“I’ll be damned if they kin steal her! She’s +mine. She done told me so, and Plutiny wouldn’t +lie!”</p> +<p>From an ambush of laurel bushes close beside +the path, a tall, slender form stood forth, the lissome +figure of a girl in the budding charm of womanhood. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +There was a lithe, curving beauty in the lines that +the scant homespun gown outlined so clearly. The +swift movement by which she revealed herself was +instinct with grace. As she rested motionless, with +arms extended in a gesture of appeal, there was a +singular dignity in the pose, a distinction of personality +that was in no wise marred by bare feet +and shapeless gown; not even by the uncouthness +of dialect, when she spoke. And winsomeness of +form and bearing was crowned by the beauty of +her face, in which the insipidity of regular features +was redeemed by exquisite coloring of rose and +white, and by the dusk brilliance of the eyes. The +tender lips were wreathed to playful reproach, as +she addressed the lover for whom she thus waited +at the dawn:</p> +<p>“Zekie—oh, Zekie! Ye hain’t a-cussin’ o’ me, +be ye?”</p> +<p>The young man, surprised, started, and regarded +the girl in confusion. The red that had suffused +his tanned cheeks deepened to a burning blush of +embarrassment, as he realized that his outburst had +been overheard by her who had been the cause of it. +But his eyes met her quizzical glance with candid +directness. After a moment, he spoke. All the +harshness was gone from his voice; its soft drawl +was vibrant with tenderness.</p> +<p>“No, Honey, I hain’t a’cussin’ o’ you-all. I was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +jest a-mentionin’ some folks. But I hain’t a-feared. +Nobody hain’t a-goin’ to steal yer love from me.”</p> +<p>“Nobody—never, Zeke!” the girl answered, simply. +There was an infinite honesty, an unalterable +loyalty, in the curt words.</p> +<p>As he listened, the flush died from the lover’s +face; contentment shone in his expression.</p> +<p>“I knowed hit, Honey—I knowed hit all the +time. I know when I come back I’ll find ye waitin’.”</p> +<p>“Ye’ll come back, I reckon, with fool idees ’bout +what yer women-folks ought to wear, like them +furriners down below.” Her face relaxed into a +genial smile, which brought a dimple to shadow the +pink bloom of her cheek. But there was a trace +of pensiveness; the vague hint of jealousy in the +slow tones:</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ll be a-waitin’ till ye come, Zekie. An’ +if the wearin’ o’ shoes an’ stockin’s ’ll make ye any +happier, why, I guess I kin stand ’em—an’ them +ladies’ straighteners, too. Yep, I’d wear ’em, if they +did squeeze me fit to bust.”</p> +<p>Since Plutina had thus come to meet him, there +was no need that he should follow further the trail +toward the Siddon cabin, which lay out of his +course. At the girl’s suggestion that she should +accompany him a little way on the first stage of his +journey out into the world, the two turned back +toward the broader path, which led to the southwest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +until it met the North Wilkesboro’ road. The +two walked side by side, along this lovers’ lane of +nature’s kindly devising. They went sedately, in +all seeming, for the mountain folk are chary in +demonstrations of affection. Yet, beneath the austere +mask imposed by convention, their hearts were +thrilling with the rapture each found in the near +presence of the other. The glamour of romance was +like a golden mist over all the scene, irradiating each +leaf and flower, softening the bird-calls to fairy +flutings, draping the nakedness of distant rugged +peaks, bearing gently the purling of the limpid +brook along which the path ran in devious complacence. +Often, indeed, the lovers’ way led them +into the shallows, through which their bare feet +splashed unconcerned. The occasional prismatic +flash of a leaping trout in the deeper pools caught +their eyes. So, presently, the girl was moved to +speak—with visible effort, very shyly, for the expression +of her love in words was a thing unfamiliar, +difficult.</p> +<p>“I sha’n’t have nobody to make flies fer now,” +she said dully. “I jest hain’t a-goin’ arter the trout +fer fun no more till ye comes back.”</p> +<p>Zeke would have answered, but he checked the +words at his lips, lest the trembling of his voice +might betray a feeling deemed inconsistent with +manliness. They went forward in silence, a-quiver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +with desire each of the other, yet mute with the +forced repression of custom. Now, too, the sorrow +of the parting so close at hand, colored their +mood more and more, so that the golden glamour +first dimmed and then changed into a sinister pall +which overhung all the loveliness of the morning. +At a turn in the path, where it topped a rise, before +descending a long slope to the highway, Zeke came +to a standstill. The girl paused obediently beside +him. He fumbled in a pocket awkwardly, and +drew forth a tiny square of coffee-colored stone, +roughly lined, which he held out toward his companion. +The tracery of the crystal formed a Maltese +cross. The girl expressed no surprise. She accepted +the token with a grave nod as he dropped it +into her palm, and she remained gazing down at it +with eyes hidden under the heavy white lids and long, +curving lashes of shadowy brown.</p> +<p>Zeke spoke, very earnestly:</p> +<p>“Hit’s fer good luck, Tiny—fer good luck to +he’p ye while we’re apart. Mebby, hit ’ll git in hits +work by softenin’ the hardness o’ yer gran’pap’s +heart agin me.”</p> +<p>In truth, the concentration of his thought on the +fragment of stone had been enough of itself to give +a talisman occult potence. That concentration of +desire for the girl’s well-being was not merely of +this moment. It had been with him constantly during +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +long hours of tedious clambering yesterday, when +he followed the channel of Garden Creek through +its tortuous course among the ravines of the Blue +Ridge, through the narrow defile of the Devil’s +Garden, sunless, strewn with rubble of boulders, +with a chaos of shattered rock masses—débris, superstition +said, of cataclysm—of the Crucifixion, when +the mountain crests tore themselves asunder, and +cast their pinnacles into the abyss for rage and grief. +The searcher had climbed on and on, until he reached +the nook sacred to the crystals. For concerning +these, also, the superstition had its say, and told that +the little pieces of stone, with the cross marked on +each, were, in fact, the miraculously preserved tears +shed by the fairies of these fastnesses in the dread +hour of the Saviour’s anguish. The lover had +sought long for a crystal that should be perfect. +Now that it lay within the girl’s hand, he was content +of his toil. Surely, whatever the truth concerning +its origin, it was a holy thing, for the emblem it +bore. It would serve to shield her against aught +evil that might threaten—even the grandfather’s +enmity against him, which set a barrier between +them and happiness. The crystal would abide with +her in sign of his love’s endurance, strong to save her +and to cherish her against any ill. He sighed with +relief, when she raised the crystal, and dropped it +within her bosom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span></p> +<p>Still, as always, fearful of showing emotion too +openly, Zeke hastened to introduce a new topic. He +took from a pocket a book of twelve two-cent postage +stamps, to secure which he had trudged the four +miles from his mother’s cabin to the Cherry Lane +post-office. The book, in its turn, was proffered to +Plutina, who accepted it in mild bewilderment.</p> +<p>The lover explained:</p> +<p>“Honey,” he said, without any embarrassment +over the fact, “ye knows my ole mammy hain’t edicated, +an’ I want ye to write for her once a month, +arter I write to tell ye whar I’ll be.”</p> +<p>The girl nodded tacit acceptance of the trust, and +consigned the stamps to a resting place alongside the +crystal. And then, after a little, she spoke heavily:</p> +<p>“I reckon as how you-all better be a-joggin’, +Zeke.”</p> +<p>For answer, the lad caught the girl in his arms, +and gave her a kiss on either cheek—the hearty, +noisy smacks of the mountaineer’s courting. But, +in the next instant, he drew her close in an embrace +that crushed the two warm bodies to rapture. His +lips met hers, and clung, till their beings mingled. +Afterward, he went from her voicelessly. Voicelessly, +she let him go.... There could be no +words to comfort the bitterness of such parting.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II' id='CHAPTER_II'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> +<p>When he was come within view of Joines’ +mill and store on Roaring River, Zeke +halted again for a final look back toward +the wild home land, which he was now leaving for +the first time. The blackness of his mood after +parting with the girl had passed, though melancholy +still made him its own. The resilience of youth +was turning his spirits again toward the hopes that +had inspired this going forth from his own familiar +little wilderness into the vast and unknown wilderness +of the world beyond. As he stared out at the +scattered peaks, reared like conning towers over the +sprawling medley of ridge and valley, a throb of +fondness shook his heart. It was not sprung from +esthetic appreciation of the wild and romantic landscape, +though this had been sufficient to justify the +stir of feeling. His sensibility was aroused by the +dear friendliness of all the scene, where hollows and +heights had been his constant haunts through all +the days of childhood and adolescence until this +hour. Of a sudden, he realized as never before a profound +tenderness for this country of beetling crags +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +and crystal rivers, of serene spaces and balsamic airs. +Hitherto, he had esteemed the neighborhood in some +dull, matter-of-course fashion, such as folk ordinarily +give to their native territory. But, in this +instant of illumination, on the eve of separating +himself from the place, love of it surged within him. +This was his home, the dwelling of his dear ones. +He felt toward it a quick reverence as for something +strangely sacred. His eyes went to the great bulk +of Stone Mountain, which jutted just before him +to the east, its league of naked rock lying like some +monstrous guardian of the place. Somehow, the +dignity of the massive curving cliffs soothed him, +heartened him anew. The immutability of the huge +mound of stone was a prophecy. Through the ages, +it had maintained its ward steadfastly. So it would +remain. A gush of confidence washed away the last +of the watcher’s depression. He could go on his +way undismayed. These things here that were so +dear to him would abide his return. The old mother +and Plutina would rest secure against his homecoming. +The time, after all, would not be long. +Meantime, there was the great adventure. Zeke +whirled, and trudged blithely onward.</p> +<p>Opportunity had come to Zeke Higgins, and +he had not hesitated to seize it. His desire +for a larger life than that of the tiny, scrabbly +mountain farm had been early excited; it had persisted; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +it had increased steadily, though the possibility +of its realization had seemed remote. Stark +poverty demanded that he remain to coax a scant +living from the soil for his mother. Yet, his determination +was fixed. He got some smattering of +education, along with Plutina, from a kindly Quaker +who came among the “Boomers” of the Blue Ridge +as a missionary school-teacher. Thus, Zeke learned +surprisingly much. His thirsty brain took up +knowledge as a sponge takes up water. So great +was his gratitude to this instructor that, when the +stranger was revealed as a revenue officer questing +illicit stills, Zeke, despite inherited prejudice, guided +the hunted man by secret trails over the mountains +into Virginia, and thereby undoubtedly saved a life. +Indeed, the disappearance of the officer was so well +contrived that the mountaineers themselves for a +time did not suspect the fact of the escape. There +is a great basin in the rock on the north side of Stone +Mountain. It has been hollowed out through centuries +by the little stream that comes leaping madly +down the ledges. The cauldron has a sinister repute. +It is deemed the sepulchre of more than one spy, +cast down into the abyss from the mountain’s brim. +It was generally believed that the false school-teacher +was of the number.</p> +<p>Somehow, long afterward, report had it that the +man was alive. Rumor implicated Zeke as having +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +had a share in the fellow’s escape. Old Dick Siddon, +Plutina’s grandfather, heard. He had hated the +“revenuers” always. Since the death of his only +son at their hands, his hatred had become a mania. +He was a strong man, fierce in anger. When he +bade his grandchild dismiss her favored suitor, she +feigned obedience. She, and Zeke as well, knew the +futility of fighting the old man’s prejudices. But, +with the optimism of youth, the lovers hoped for +happiness. A little older, they might at least defy +the hostile guardian. In the meantime, Zeke was +determined to attain material prosperity during the +period of waiting.</p> +<p>Then, Richard Sutton came into the mountains +of the Blue Ridge. He chanced on Zeke, made use +of the lad as a guide. Soon mutual liking and +respect developed. Sutton was a manufacturer of +tree-nails—the wooden pins used in ships’ timbers. +Here in the ranges was an abundance of locust timber, +the best for his need. And there was much talk +of a branch railway to come. His alert business +imagination saw that a factory located at the source +of supply would be advantageous. He saw, too, the +capacity for development in his young friend. Zeke’s +familiarity with the region might be valuable—more +valuable still his popularity and the respect accorded +him in the community. Sutton suggested to the +young man that he should come to New York +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +presently, there to learn the details of manufacture, +with the prospect of return, later on, to manage the +business in the mountains. Naturally, the project +was splendid to Zeke’s ambition. His only fear had +been lest his departure be delayed by lack of money, +for pride would not let him confess his extremity +to Sutton. There must be some cash in hand for +his mother’s support, until he should be able to send +her more. Then, as he fretted, opportunity favored +him anew, for a surveying party came to run a +railroad branch north to Stone Mountain. He was +employed as ax-man and assistant cook. His wages +solved the difficulty, so far as his mother’s need +was concerned. For the rest, he took only a small +sum to his own use, since he was minded to work +his way north on shipboard from Norfolk. It was in +accord with such high hopes that this May morning +found him tramping, barefooted, into Joines’ store, +with the black oilcloth valise slung from his shoulder.</p> +<p>The halt here was a necessary feature in Zeke’s +itinerary. On a previous visit to the store, he had +purchased a pair of serviceable, if rather ungainly, +shoes. Since he would have no occasion for their +use at home, he had saved himself the trouble of +carrying them to and fro.</p> +<p>“I reckon I’ll take them-thar shoes o’ mine,” he +said to the grizzled proprietor, after an exchange of +friendly greetings with the few loungers present. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +These were well aware of his planned departure, +though ignorant of his definite aims.</p> +<p>“Ye hain’t a-goin’ to put ’em on yit, be ye?” the +storekeeper inquired, solicitously.</p> +<p>“Not till I git to North Wilkesboro’,” Zeke +answered, to the obvious relief of the assembly, as +he opened the bag. While he was busy stowing the +shoes, the onlookers commented cynically on the +follies of fashion.</p> +<p>“An’ I’ve hearn tell,” one concluded, “that durn-nigh +everybody done war shoes in the city, all year +roun’.”</p> +<p>Perhaps the young man felt a pleasant glow of +superiority in reflecting on the fact that such following +of city fashion would soon distinguish him. But +his innocent vanity was not to be unduly flattered.</p> +<p>“Ca’late to stay away till ye’ve made yer fortin, +in course, sonny?” one of the older men suggested. +He enjoyed some local reputation as a wag, the +maintenance of which so absorbed his energies that +his wife, who had lost whatever sense of humor she +might once have had, toiled both indoors and out.</p> +<p>“Why, yes, o’ course,” Zeke replied unsuspectingly.</p> +<p>“Better kiss we-uns good-by, sonny,” was the retort. +“You-all ’ll be gone quite some time.”</p> +<p>The sally was welcomed with titters and guffaws. +Zeke was red to the ears with mortification and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +anger, as he shut the valise, shouldered it, and strode +to the door. But even in the time of that passing, he +mastered his mood in a measure. He had no wish +to make his farewell to these neighbors in bitterness +of spirit. So, at the door, he turned and grinned +amiably on the group.</p> +<p>“I want pleasant things to remember hyarabouts, +all thet-thar long time I got to be away,” he said, +with a quizzical drawl; “so I kain’t be a-kissin’ o’ ye +none. My stomick hain’t none so strong nohow,” +he added, with the coarseness that usually flavored +the humor of the countryside.</p> +<p>Then, abruptly, the smile left his lips; the lines +of his face hardened; the hazel eyes brightened +and widened a little. His low, slow voice came +firmly, with a note of tense earnestness. It was as +if he spoke to himself, rather than to the slouching +men, who regarded him curiously.</p> +<p>“I hain’t leavin’ all this-hyar ’cause I don’t love +hit,” he declared. “I do love hit, an’ I aim to come +back by-an-bye—I shore do!”</p> +<p>Forthwith, embarrassed anew by this unmeditated +outburst, he hurried off, amid an astonished silence +which was broken at last by the storekeeper.</p> +<p>“Thet-thar Zeke Higgins,” he ventured, somewhat +indistinctly through his matting of whiskers, “I +swow if he hain’t got right feelin’s, fer all he’s so +durn peart.” And his cronies nodded assent. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>As he pressed onward, the adventurer quickly +regained his poise. The novelty of the situation +thrilled him agreeably. His thoughts were crowded +with imaginings of the strange things to come. Ambitious +vision of himself successful among the city’s +throngs made his pulses beat faster. He felt that +he had within him the power to achieve something +worth while in the world. Certainly, he would not +fail for lack of striving. But no triumph elsewhere +could ever wean him from his love for the Blue +Ridge—for his home country. Yes, it was as he +had said there in the store: He would come back. +He would come back to the cabin in the “cove” under +the shadows of Stone Mountain—back to the old +mother, back to Plutina. A warmth of exquisite +tenderness vibrated through him, as his hope leaped +to that homecoming, to the time when once again +the girl should rest clinging on his bosom. And a +great peace lay under all his joy of anticipation. His +love knew no doubt. She had given her heart to +him. Through his every wandering, whatever +might betide, her love would be with him, to comfort +him in sorrow, to crown him in happiness. A +bird’s song recalled the lilt of her laughter. He saw +again the tremulous curving of her mouth, red +against the fine warm pallor of her face at parting. +Passion welled in him. He halted yet once again, +and stood with face suffused, gazing back. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +as if he were swayed by a sudden secret sense that +warned him of her misery in this hour of his exaltation—her +misery where she lay prone under the +tangle of laurel by Garden Creek, sobbing out that +anguish which is the penalty woman must pay for +love.</p> +<p>Zeke’s eyes fastened anew on the rounded bulk +of Stone Mountain’s cliffs. The immutability of +them, and the majesty, relieved the tenseness of his +mood. He resumed his way serenely.... But +Plutina wept on, unassuaged.</p> +<p>When he drew near to North Wilkesboro’, where +he proposed to make a first essay in railway journeying, +Zeke seated himself under the shade of a grove +of persimmon-trees by the wayside, there painfully +to encumber his feet with the new shoes. As he +laced these, he indulged in soliloquy, after a fashion +bred of his lonely life, on a subject born of his immediate +surroundings.</p> +<p>“I hain’t noways superstitious,” he mused complacently, +“but this grove ain’t no nice place, bein’ as +it must be a nigger cemetery. Uncle Dick Siddon +says they’s always niggers buried whar they’s persimmon-trees, +an’ he says the niggers come first. +An’ Uncle Dick, he ought to know, bein’ he’s eighty-odd-year +old. Anyhow, it seems reasonable, ’cause +niggers do swaller the stuns when they eats persimmons, +an’ so, o’ course, jest nacher’ly the trees ’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +spring up where the niggers git planted. So +they’d be ha’nts like’s not. But I hain’t superstitious—not +a mite. Mr. Sutton, he said such things +as ha’nts an’ witch-doctors an’ such was all plumb +foolishness. Still, my mammy has seen—”</p> +<p>He fell silent, recalling old wives’ tales of fearsome +things seen and heard of nights. The shoes +adjusted, he took from the black bag a holster, +which sheltered a formidable-appearing Colt’s revolver. +Having made sure that the weapon was +loaded and in perfect order, Zeke returned it to +the holster, which he put on snugly under the left +arm-pit. These final preparations complete, he got +up, and hastened into the town.</p> +<p>One bit more of his musings he spoke aloud, just +before he entered the main street:</p> +<p>“No, I hain’t superstitious. But, by crickey! +I’m plumb tickled I giv Plutiny thet fairy cross. +They say them stones is shore lucky.”</p> +<p>At the railway station, Zeke asked for a ticket to +Norfolk.</p> +<p>“Want a return-trip ticket?” the friendly station-agent +suggested. He supposed the young mountaineer +was taking a pleasure excursion to the city.</p> +<p>But Zeke shook his head defiantly, and spoke with +utter forgetfulness of his experience in Joines’ store.</p> +<p>“No,” he declared stoutly, “I hain’t a-comin’ back +till I’ve made my fortin.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></p> +<p>“You’ll be a long time gone from this-here State +o’ Wilkes,” the agent vouchsafed dryly. He would +have said more, but his shrewd eyes saw in this +young man’s expression something that bade him +pause, less sceptical. The handsome and wholesome +face showed a strength of its own in the resolute +curving nose and the firmly-set lips and the grave, +yet kindly, eyes, with a light of purposeful intelligence +glowing within their clear deeps. The tall +form, broad of shoulder, deep of chest, narrow of +hip, though not yet come to the fulness of maturity, +was of the evident strength fitted to toil hugely at +the beck of its owner’s will. The agent, conscious +of a puny frame that had served him ill in life’s +struggle, experienced a half-resentment against this +youth’s physical excellence. He wondered, if, after +all, the boast might be justified by the event.</p> +<p>“Train in ten minutes,” he said curtly, as he +pushed out the ticket.</p> +<p>So, presently, Zeke, found himself seated for the +first time on the red plush seat of a railway carriage. +The initial stage of his journey was ended; the second +was begun.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III' id='CHAPTER_III'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> +<p>The right of way from North Wilkesboro’ +to Greensboro’ runs through a region where +every vista delights the eye with wild and +romantic scenes. The rails follow the course of the +upper reaches of the Yadkin River, with swift succession +of vicious curves and heavy grades. The +twistings of the road-bed, so advantageous for presenting +the varied loveliness of the wilds, were by +way of being a real torture to the young adventurer, +who sat in seeming stolidity near the rear door of +the smoking-car, with the black bag between his +feet. Even experienced travelers found the lunges +of the train trying to their nerves as it shot at speed +around “hairpin” bends, or hurled itself to the fall +of a steeper descent. To Zeke, who for the first +time knew the roar and jolt of such travel, this +trip was a fearsome thing. To sit movelessly there, +while the car reeled recklessly on the edge of abysses, +was a supreme trial of self-control. The racking +peril fairly sickened him. A mad impulse of flight +surged in him. Yet, not for worlds would he have +let anyone guess his miserable alarm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></p> +<p>Nevertheless, one there was who apprehended in +some measure the ordeal through which the mountaineer +was passing—happily, a kindly observer. +An elderly man, across the aisle from Zeke, regarded +his fellow passenger with particular intentness. +It seemed to him that, in some vague way, the +clean-cut face was familiar. His curiosity thus +aroused, he perceived the tenseness of expression and +attitude, and shrewdly suspected the truth. It was +with benevolent intent, rather than for the gratification +of inquisitiveness, that he finally got up and +seated himself in the vacant place alongside the +younger man.</p> +<p>Zeke’s perturbation caused him to start nervously +at this advent of a stranger, but a single glance into +the wrinkled, yet hale, face of the man reassured +him. The visitor’s amiable character showed plainly +in his dim blue eyes, which twinkled merrily. Moreover, +there was a sure witness of worth in the empty +sleeve, pinned to his left breast, on which showed +the cross of honor. The humor lurking in the eyes +was grotesquely manifested in his first address:</p> +<p>“This-hyar railroad hain’t no fitten one fer beginners,” +he announced, with a chuckle. “Hit’s +plumb likely to make a squirrel into a nut.”</p> +<p>Zeke smiled, somewhat ruefully. He understood +the play on words since “boomer,” the mountaineers’ +own name for the red squirrel, is often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +applied to themselves. But the distraction afforded +by the garrulous veteran was a relief. A new spur +was given to their mutual interest when, after telling +his name, it was discovered that his father had +been a company-mate with Seth Jones, the veteran, +in the Twelfth North Carolina Volunteers. The old +man’s curiosity was highly gratified by this explanation +of the inherited likeness that had puzzled him, +and he waxed reminiscent and confidential. The +diversion was welcome to his listener, where doubtless +many another might have found the narrative +of by-gone campaigns tedious in this prolix retelling. +Ultimately, indeed, the youth’s sympathies +were aroused by Jones’ tale of misfortune in love, +wherein his failure to write the girl he left behind +him had caused her first to mourn him as dead, and +eventually to marry her second choice.</p> +<p>“But I’ve jest got scrumptious news,” he exclaimed, +his rheumy eyes suddenly clear and sparkling. +“Seems as how Fanny’s a widder. So, I’m +a-goin’ to try my luck, an’ no shelly-shallyin’, now +I’ve got her located arter a mighty lot o’ huntin’. +Yes, sir, sonny,” he concluded, with a guffaw, “old +as I be, I’m a-goin’ a-courtin’. If I ever see ye +ag’in, I’ll tell ye how it comes out. I s’pose I seem +plumb old fer sech foolishness to a boy like you be, +but some hearts keep young till they stop. I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +pretty spry fer my age, too, if I do say so as +shouldn’t.”</p> +<p>Zeke was not so surprised by the old man’s hopes +as he might have been, were it not for the example +of Plutina’s grandfather, who, somewhat beyond +four-score, was still scandalously lively, to the delectation +of local gossip. But, though after the departure +of Jones at a junction, Zeke reflected half-amusedly +on the rather sere romances of these two +ancient Romeos, he was far from surmising that, +at the last, their amorous paths would cross.</p> +<p>There was still further harrowing experience for +Zeke after reaching the Southern Railway’s terminal +on the pier at Pinner’s Point, in Virginia, +for here he was hurried aboard the ferry-boat, and +was immediately appalled by the warning blast of +the whistle. Few bear that strident din undismayed. +This adventurer had never heard the like—only +the lesser warning of locomotives and the +siren of a tannery across twenty miles of distance. +Now, the infernal belching clamor broke in his very +ears, stunning him. He quivered under the impact, +stricken to the soul for seconds of shock. But the +few careless eyes that chanced to scan the mountaineer +noted no faltering in face or form. He stood +to all appearance serenely, easily poised, his attitude +replete with the grace of physical power, his +mouth firmly closed, his widely-set eyes unwavering. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +Even the cudgel, and the black bag still dangling +from it, could not offset a certain aloof dignity that +masked distress by stern effort of will.</p> +<p>Nothing further occurred for a little to afflict +the traveler’s unaccustomed nerves, and he soon +found himself pleasurably absorbed in contemplation +of the novel surroundings. The boat was nearing +the Norfolk landing when his eyes fell on a +dog, held in leash by a young woman. Both the +beast and its mistress commanded his instant attention, +in which wonder was the chief emotion. The +dog itself was a Boston bull-terrier, which was a +canine species wholly strange to the mountaineer’s +experience, limited as it had been to hounds and +mongrels of unanalyzable genealogy. The brute’s +face had an uncanny likeness to a snub-nosed, heavy-jowled +“boomer” whom Zeke detested, and he eyed +the creature askance by reason of the resemblance.</p> +<p>“Hit’s plumb man-faced,” was his verdict. “I +shore prefer ’em jest plain dawg.” His eyes went +then from the leash to the girl holding it, and he +hardly restrained a gasp, in which admiration was +mingled with amazement. The ordinary observer +would have seen only a pretty girl, of the fluffy +blond type, smartly tailored in blue serge, with the +skirt decorously slit. But Zeke saw a vision from +another world than that of the slatternly mountain +women, whose toil left them neither opportunity nor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +ambition for nicety in dress, which, indeed, was +finally prohibited by ignorance as well as poverty. +This girl stood out in startling relief, marvelous +revelation from the new world he was entering. +Slowly, with concentration, the young man scrutinized +the vision, noting every detail, from the natty +turban with its swaying feather wand to the daintily +pointed ties, above which were to be glimpsed trim +silk-clad ankles. Yet, the novel charm of her failed +utterly to disturb the loyalty of his heart. His hungry +soul found exquisite satisfaction in the spectacle +of feminine refinement thus presented for the first +time, but his devotion to the roughly garbed mountain +girl was in no wise imperiled. On the contrary, +his imagination busied itself with an effort +to picture Plutina thus splendidly arrayed.</p> +<p>“I ’low she’s plumb handsome,” he meditated. +“But, shucks! Tiny beats her holler. In them +duds, she’d have her skun a mile.... But thet-thar +man-faced dawg! I’d shore hate like pizen to +be found daid along with thet ornery pup.”</p> +<p>As he mused, no hint came out of the future as +to the time when, in very truth, he would be close +to death, and that same dog an actor in the drama, +one to be deeply esteemed, not contemned. But +that time was not yet. In fact, the immediate future +was not destined to remove his prejudice +against the bull-terrier. On the contrary! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></p> +<p>The fixity of Zeke’s staring penetrated the girl’s +consciousness. She turned abruptly, and her blue +eyes met his in a cool glance that seemed to pass +through him and on, as if he were something quite +invisible, altogether beneath notice. Zeke felt +the rebuke keenly, though innocent of intentional +offense. The instincts of gentlemanly blood from +which he was somewhere distantly descended made +him realize his fault in manners, though he had had +no guidance from experience. The ready blush +burned hot on brow and cheeks; he dropped his +gaze confusedly to the dog.</p> +<p>Even the beast, he perceived, reprobated his conduct. +It was staring up at him fiercely from red +eyes, and the hackles stood erect, though it did not +growl. Evidently, it resented undue attention to +its mistress.</p> +<p>There was a movement forward of the passengers, +as the ferry-boat drew into its slip. Zeke +advanced with the others, following close behind +the girl and the dog, which strained at the leash +in order still to stare menacingly at the young man. +Then, without warning, the action became swift +and violent. The ferry-boat crashed against the +yielding walls of the slip. Zeke, unprepared for +the shock, was thrown from his balance. One of +the heavy new shoes smashed down on a paw. The +dog sprang and snapped. The jaws missed, because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +the girl tugged at the leash in the same second. +Zeke instinctively kicked at the brute in self-defense. +His foot took the animal fairly in the +jaw, and lifted it from the floor, just as the girl +turned. She cried out in shrill anger at this rough +stranger’s wanton attack on her pet, for so she +interpreted the event. She maintained her hold on +the leash bravely, lest worse follow. But her +strength was insufficient to restrain the creature of +fighting breed. It lunged forward with such suddenness +that both its mistress and its enemy were +taken unawares. The girl was dragged in tow. +Zeke would have leaped aside, but he was too late +to escape the encounter, though he mitigated it. +The iron jaws clanged shut, but in the slack of the +victim’s sturdy jeans, instead of in the flesh. The +massive mouth was locked vise-like. Because of the +cloth’s sturdiness, the dog swung clear of the floor. +The girl still strove frantically, though vainly, at +the leash, shrieking commands which were unheeded. +Zeke, confused, chagrined, ashamed, +wrathful, shook himself violently to be free, without +avail. The other passengers scurried forth, +with a panic cry of “Mad dog!”</p> +<p>Zeke’s wrath mounted. He had had little training +in self-restraint, and his passions were of the +primitive sort. Now, abruptly, the lesser emotions +were overwhelmed by the might of his rage. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +was conscious only of the humiliating fact that this +hideous man-faced dog had fastened itself on +him, and there hung. Zeke bent and twisted, his +two hands on the creature’s jaws. Then he set himself +to wrench them apart. His strength, great as +it was availed nothing against that remorseless grip. +The resistance goaded him to fury. He gave over +the effort to prise the teeth apart, and put all his +might into a frenzied pull. There were instants +of resistance, then the hissing noise of rending +cloth. A huge fragment of the stout jeans was +torn out bodily. Zeke hurled the animal violently +from him. The leash was snapped from the girl’s +hands. The dog’s body shot across the cabin, +hurtled against the wall. The indomitable brute +tumbled to the floor, and lay there stunned. But +even in defeat, he carried down with him between +rigid jaws the blue-jeans banner of victory.</p> +<p>With a bound, the girl crossed the space, and +fell on her knees beside the inert form, crooning +over it pitifully. In the same moment, the gust +of anger in Zeke ended. He stood motionless, except +for his quickened breathing, with eyes fast on +the girl. Remorse stabbed him as he realized her +distress, for which he was responsible. He went +toward her hesitatingly, forgetful of bag and stick, +which had fallen at the outset of the mêlée. He +ventured to address her, stammering confusedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></p> +<p>“I ’low he hain’t daid, nor nothin’ like thet,” he +said; “jest takin’ a nap-like.” His wrath gave a +final flicker, as he looked down at the ugly face +cushioned within the girl’s hands. “An ornery +critter like thet-thar pup ought to be kept shet-up,” +he concluded spitefully.</p> +<p>The girl lifted a face in which blue eyes were +flaming.</p> +<p>“It’s you ought to be shut up, you horrible man!” +she cried. “And you will be. I’ll see to that.”</p> +<p>“Now, don’t be plumb foolish,” Zeke expostulated. +“The varmint hain’t hurt none—not a mite, +ma’am.”</p> +<p>“Beast!” the girl ejaculated, concisely.</p> +<p>Zeke retorted with high indignation.</p> +<p>“I jest nacher’ly hain’t a-goin’ to stand still an’ +say ‘Thank ye!’ while I’m bein’ et up piecemeal by +no dawg—specially one with a face like his’n.”</p> +<p>He would have said more, but paused with mouth +agape, eyes widening, his expression horror-stricken. +For, just then, the bull-terrier snorted +loudly, and unclosed its red eyes. The clenched +jaws, too, relaxed. Thus released, the broad strip +of jeans fluttered to the floor. Its movement +caught Zeke’s gaze. He recognized the cloth. The +ghastly truth burst in his brain. In an agony of +embarrassment, he clasped his hands to that portion +of his person so fearfully despoiled. Moved by his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +sudden silence, impressed perhaps by some subtle +impact of this new and dreadful emotion on his +part, the girl looked up. She, too, had noted subconsciously +the fall of the cloth from the dog’s +jaws. Now as she saw the young man’s face of +fire and observed his peculiar posture, she understood. +Her own crimson cheeks rivaled those of +the afflicted one. She turned and bent low over +her reviving pet. Her shoulders were shaking, +Zeke was shuddering.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV' id='CHAPTER_IV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> +<p>The conventions of dress are sometimes pestilential. +If any doubt this truth let him +remember the nightmares wherein his +nudity made torment. And, while remembering the +anguish such lack of clothing has occasioned in +dreams, let him think with pity on the suffering of +Zeke whose plight was real. It was in sooth, a +predicament to strain the <i>savoir faire</i> of the most +polished courtier. Perhaps, the behavior of the +mountaineer was as discreet as any permitted by +the unfortunate circumstances, and could hardly +have been improved on by the Admirable Crichton +himself. He simply retained an immobile pose, +facing the girl, with his whole soul concentrated in +desire that the earth should split asunder to engulf +him. The tide of his misery was at its flood, so that +it grew no worse when some deck-hands thrust the +forward doors open, and a policeman bounded into +the cabin, drawn revolver in hand.</p> +<p>But the bull-terrier was to escape the fate unjustly +inflicted on so many of its fellows. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +girl, crouching over the dog, barred the policeman’s +purpose.</p> +<p>“Get away from him, miss,” the officer directed. +“He ain’t safe, even if he’s quiet. I know mad +dogs. A bullet’s the only medicine.”</p> +<p>“Chub isn’t mad in the least,” the girl snapped; +“though he’s been through enough to make him +crazy—and so have I. If you’re so anxious to do +your duty, officer,” she added, bitterly, “why don’t +you arrest that horrid, hulking man over there?” +She pointed a neatly gloved, accusing finger at the +motionless Zeke, who was staring fixedly at the +point where he hoped the abyss might yawn.</p> +<p>“What’s he done?” the policeman inquired gruffly. +He was miffed over this lost opportunity. The +slayer of a mad dog is always mentioned as a hero +in the newspapers.</p> +<p>The girl stood up. The dog, at the end of the +leash, also stood up, and shook itself. It had, to +all seeming, recovered fully. It regarded Zeke intently +from its red eyes. But it did not growl. It +was plain that the bull-terrier was thinking deeply, +and that Zeke was the center around which thought +revolved. But, if the dog did not growl, its mistress +showed no lessening of hostility. She explained +succinctly to the representative of the law:</p> +<p>“He assaulted my dog—with his feet and his +hands.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p> +<p>“And maybe he bit him, too!” the policeman +suggested, with heavy sarcasm. He could not forgive +this pretty girl for foiling his heroism.</p> +<p>The girl did not heed. Her white brow was +wrinkled in a frown. She was recalling, with an +effort, her somewhat meager knowledge of legal +terms.</p> +<p>“I shall charge him with homicidal assault,” she +announced firmly.</p> +<p>“I hope you’ll tell that to the sarge,” the officer +chuckled, his pique forgotten in appreciation of the +girl’s naïve announcement. “I’ll take this chap to +the station-house. You’ll appear against him, +miss?” The girl nodded emphatically. He turned +on Zeke, frowning. “Come on quiet, young feller, +if you know what’s good for ye.” His practiced +eye studied the young mountaineer’s physique +respectfully.</p> +<p>Zeke made no movement, nor answered nor +lifted his eyes. The policeman attributed this demeanor +to recalcitrancy. He put the revolver in +his pocket, drew his club and took a step forward. +Yet, he sensed something unfamiliar in the situation; +the stiff posture of the arms and hands of +the culprit attracted his attention. He felt vaguely +that something of a painful nature was toward. He +stopped short, puzzled, and spoke: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></p> +<p>“What’s the matter with ye, anyhow?” he demanded +fiercely. “Hain’t ye got any tongue?”</p> +<p>Then, at last, Zeke raised his eyes. They went +first to the forward door, to make sure that the +girl had vanished. There were only two mildly interested +deck-hands in the cabin, beside the policeman, +though soon the place would be filled with +newly arriving passengers. He looked at the officer +squarely, with despair in his expression:</p> +<p>“Hit ain’t my tongue—hit’s my pants!” he said +huskily. “Hit’s the seat of my pants. Hit’s—hit’s +thar!” He nodded toward the strip of jeans left +on the floor by the dog.</p> +<p>The policeman stared at the fragment of cloth, +then his gaze returned appreciatively to the victim’s +hands. He threw his head back and bellowed with +laughter, echoed raucously by the deck-hands. Zeke +waited grimly until the merriment lessened a little.</p> +<p>“I hain’t a-stirrin’ nary a step to no jail-house,” +was his morose announcement, “unless somebody +gits me some pants with a seat to ’em.”</p> +<p>The policeman liked his ease too well to fight +needlessly, and he had an idea that the thews and +sinews of the boomer might make a good account +of themselves. Moreover, he was by way of being +a kindly soul, and he apprehended in a measure the +young man’s misery.</p> +<p>“Can you dig up a pair of jumpers?” he asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +the deck-hands. “You can have ’em back by calling +at the station to-morrow.”</p> +<p>In this manner, the difficulty was bridged. Clad +in the dingy and dirty borrowed garment, the burning +shame fell from Zeke, and he was once again +his own man. Nevertheless, he avoided looking +toward the piece of torn cloth lying on the floor, as +he went out with the policeman. He only wished +that he might with equal ease leave behind all memory +of the lamentable episode.</p> +<p>Zeke’s tractability increased the favorable impression +already made on the officer by the mountaineer’s +wholesome face and modest, manly bearing. +It was evident that this was no ordinary rake-helly +boomer come to town. There was, too, the +black bag to witness that the prisoner was an honest +voyager. On the way to the station, the constable +listened with unusual patience to Zeke’s curt +account of the misadventure, and the narrative was +accepted as truth—the more readily by reason of +some slight prejudice against the dog, which had +failed as an exploiter of heroism. In consequence, +the policeman grew friendly, and promised intercession +in his captive’s behalf. This was the more +effective when, on arrival at the station-house, it +was learned that the girl with the dog had not +appeared. Nor was there sign of her after a period +of waiting. The sergeant at the desk decided that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +there could be no occasion to hold the prisoner. But +he frowned on the deadly weapon, which the usual +search had revealed.</p> +<p>“’Twon’t do for you to go totin’ that cannon +promiscuous,” he declared. “You shore don’t need +a gun—you shore do need breeches. What’s the +answer?... Hock the gun, and buy some +pants.”</p> +<p>Thus simply did an alert mind solve all difficulties +of the situation.</p> +<p>So in the end, Zeke issued safely from his first +bout with mischance and found himself well content, +for his dress now was more like that of the +men about him. The new trousers were full length, +which the jeans had not been, and the creases down +the legs were in the latest style. The salesman had +so stated, and Zeke observed with huge satisfaction +that the stiffness of the creases seemed to mark the +quality of the various suits visible in the streets. +And his own creases were of the most rigid! Zeke +for the first time in his life, felt that warm thrill +which characterizes any human integer, whether +high or low, when conscious of being especially well +dressed.</p> +<p>Followed an interval of loitering. The sights of +the town formed an endless panorama of wonder +to the lad’s eager vision. Though he was a year past +the age of man’s estate, this was his first opportunity +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +of beholding a town of any size, of seeing face to +face things of which he had heard a little, had +read more. His fresh, receptive mind scanned +every detail with fierce concentration of interest, +and registered a multitude of vivid impressions to +be tenaciously retained in memory.</p> +<p>And ever with him, as he roamed the streets, +went a tall slender girl, barefooted, garbed in homespun, +with great dark brown eyes that looked tenderly +on him from beneath the tumbled bronze +masses of her hair. No passer-by saw her, but the +mountaineer knew her constant presence, and with +her held voiceless communion concerning all things +that he beheld. His heart exulted proudly over the +bewildering revelations of many women, both beautiful +and marvelously clad in fine raiment—for this +girl that walked with him was more radiantly fair +than any other.</p> +<p>It was late afternoon when, finally, Zeke aroused +himself to think of the necessities of his position. +Then, after a hasty and economical meal at a lunch +counter near the water-front, he made haste to the +pier, where his attention was at once riveted on an +Old Dominion Liner, which was just backing out +into the river. He watched the great bulk, fascinated, +while it turned, and moved away down the harbor, +to vanish beyond Sewall’s Point, on its way toward +Hampton Roads. Immediately afterward, his attention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +was attracted to a much smaller steamer, +which drew in on the opposite side of the wharf. +There chanced to be no one else near, and, as the +boat slid into the slip, a man in the bow hurled a +coil of rope toward Zeke, with an aim so accurate +that it fell across Zeke’s shoulder.</p> +<p>“Don’t dodge it, you lubber!” the man roared, in +answer to the mountaineer’s instinctive movement. +“Haul it in, an’ make fast to the punchin’.”</p> +<p>Zeke obeyed readily enough, hauled in the hawser, +and made the loop fast over the piling. At the +same moment, he saw two negroes, blacker from +soot and grime than nature had made them, who +leaped down from the deck, and scampered out of +sight. He heard the captain in the pilot-house +shouting down the tube.</p> +<p>“There go your––nigger stokers on the run.”</p> +<p>Zeke could both see and hear the man in the +engine-room, who vowed profanely that he would +ship a pair of white men, to sail before ten that +night. It seemed to the listener that the situation +might develop to his advantage. When, presently, +the captain descended to the dock, Zeke made bold +to accost that red-faced and truculent-appearing +person. Much to his surprise, his request for work +met with an amiable reply. The captain verified +what Zeke already knew, that the engineer had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +need of men, and bade the inquirer get aboard and +offer himself.</p> +<p>In the engine-room, the harried chief scowled on +the intruder.</p> +<p>“What the devil do you want?” he cried harshly.</p> +<p>But Zeke’s purpose was too earnest to be put +down by mere ungraciousness.</p> +<p>“Work,” he replied with a smile.</p> +<p>Something in the applicant’s aspect mitigated the +engineer’s asperity.</p> +<p>“Ever fire a boiler?” he questioned, more affably.</p> +<p>“Yes, an’ no,” Zeke answered; “not any real +steam b’iler. But, when hit comes to keepin’ a +hick’ry fire under a copper kittle, an’ not scorchin’ +the likker, wall, I ’lows as how I kin do hit. An’ +when it comes to makin’ o’ sorghum m’lasses, I hain’t +never tuk off my hat to nobody yit. Fer the keepin’ +o’ proper temp’rature folks says, I’m ’bout’s good’s +anybody in Wilkes.”</p> +<p>“Humph!—boomer,” the engineer grunted, and +there was silence for a moment. When next he spoke, +his manner was kindly.</p> +<p>“Those niggers of mine skedaddled ’cause they’re +lazy and worthless. But the stoke-hole is hell, all +right. It ain’t no place for a youngster like you. +I’ll hustle round to the gin-mills an’ get hold of a +pair of tough guys. But there’s something else,” +he went on, as Zeke’s face fell. “If you can make +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +sorghum molasses and moonshine without scorchin’ +’em, you’ll fill the bill, I reckon. We cruise off the +coast for menhaddin—fat backs—for the oil in ’em. +We carry steam-jacket kettles. I’ve got a green +man now who’s no good. I’ll fire him and take you +on. Thirty a month and your board—more by-and-by, +if you suit.”</p> +<p>Zeke, elated at this opportunity, felt, nevertheless, +that honesty required of him some further explanation. +But the engineer dismissed consideration of +the future.</p> +<p>“A month will give you enough for your fare to +New York. If you ain’t pressed for time, a voyage +will do you good. But don’t let the captain get a +sight of that black bag, or it’ll go overboard. Sailors +are afeared of ’em,” he chuckled. “<i>The Neuse</i>, +my old ship, ran into <i>The Blanche</i> off Creek Beacon, +in a fog, and sunk her. We rescued officers and +crew, but the captain—Smith, his name was—couldn’t +stop cussin’ ’cause he’d allowed a nigger +mammy to go aboard as a passenger along with her +old black bag, which was the why of the wreck, +’cording to his way of thinking. Took his friends +nigh onto a year, to convince him that <i>The Neuse</i> +was to blame for the collision. I suspect he’ll always +have it on his conscience that he did finally collect +damages off our owners.” The engineer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +chuckled again. “Stow your bag under your bunk +in the fore peak before the captain comes aboard.”</p> +<p><i>The Bonita</i> was a stanchly built and seaworthy +craft with a draft of less than twelve feet under full +cargo, which made possible her use of the shorter +and smoother inland water-way from Norfolk to +Beaufort, North Carolina, where was the factory. +Zeke, who would remain idle until the first catch of +fish, went early to his bunk the first evening aboard, +wearied by the long and exciting day. He had, indeed, +scarce time to contemplate a guardian vision +of Plutina ere his senses were locked in slumber, +and his next consciousness was of a dim morning +light struggling into the gloom of the stuffy peak, +and the jolting rhythm of the engine, which announced +that the voyage was begun. When he hurried +on deck, he was at first disappointed to learn +that the boat was still some distance from the open +sea, for which he longed with all an inlander’s +curiosity over the mystery of endless waters. <i>The +Bonita</i> was now working forward slowly through +the old Dismal Swamp Canal, to reach the Pasquotank +River and Albemarle Sound. Zeke’s astonished +eyes perceived in every direction only the level, melancholy +expanse of the swamp. His sensitive soul +found, nevertheless, a strange charm and beauty +in the scene. There was space here, even as in the +mountains. Yet this calm was not of strength, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +felt vaguely, like that he had known, but the tranquillity +of nature in another, a weaker, less-wholesome +mood, apathetic, futile. The thickly dotting cypresses +and junipers, bedecked with streaming +draperies of Spanish moss, touched the vistas with +a funereal aspect. The languid movement of the +festoons under the breeze was like the sighings of +desolation made visible. The dense tangle of the +undergrowth stretched everywhere, repellent, unrelieved +by the vivid color flashes of the mountain +blossoms. Stagnant wastes of amber-hued water +emphasized the dreariness.</p> +<p>Zeke’s spirits were too exultant to suffer more +than a fleeting depression from this first survey of +the waste. He realized how unjust his impressions +might be when he learned that this seemingly filthy +water was highly esteemed. The deck-hand, filling +the water barrel from a pail let over the ship’s side, +explained the swamp water’s virtues.</p> +<p>“All the capens fill their barrels with it. Juniper +water cures chills an’ fever, an’ keeps ’em off if ye +hain’t got ’em. Some says it’s better ’n gin for the +kidneys.” But the deck-hand looked doubtful.</p> +<p>Zeke, still suspicious because of the unlikeness of +this liquid to the crystal-clear element of the mountains, +essayed an experimental swallow, then spat +disgustedly.</p> +<p>“Hit may be all right fer med’cine, or yarb tea,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +was his verdict, “but it needs real water to wash it +down.”</p> +<p>The progress was tediously slow, for a strong +southwest wind had come on, which lowered the +water in the canal, so that <i>The Bonita</i> often went +scraping along the bottom, and betimes stuck fast in +the mud. When they were come to the Lake Drummond +region, Captain Lee decided to tie up until a +change or falling of the wind, with its consequent +rise of water in the channel. At the point where +they finally made fast to the bank, there was an old +trail, a woods road long abandoned, running off into +the jungle. Zeke promptly set off to explore this, +and almost at once espied a wild turkey; a plump +gobbler, feeding in the path before him. There +could be no doubt as to the acceptability of such +food aboard and Zeke hastened back to <i>The Bonita</i>, +where the captain gladly loaned him a rifle. Thus +equipped, Zeke returned to the wilderness trail. He +was not surprised to find that the turkey had vanished, +nor disheartened, for he was sure that a little +patience would bring him in sight of game, and there +was leisure a plenty since an interval must elapse +after a change in the wind before the deepening of +the water. Within a half-hour, he shot a turkey +from its perch in a cypress. With much satisfaction, +Zeke swung the gobbler, which was big and fat, over +his shoulder, and set out to return. Almost at once, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +however, his steps were arrested by the faint baying +of a hound. As he listened, the sound grew louder, +as if the dog drove its quarry toward him. The instinct +of the chase dominated the mountaineer. He +cast down the turkey, and waited, hopeful that a +deer or bear might cross the path within range.</p> +<p>Soon, he heard a noisy crackling of underbrush +a little to his right, but near at hand. With the +rifle in readiness Zeke peered from the concealment +of a cypress trunk. But it was neither the lithe +leaping form of a deer, nor the uncouth shambling +bulk of swamp bear that broke from the cover a +moment later. Instead, there lurched into view a +huge negro. The fugitive’s clothing hung in shreds, +witness of the cat’s-briar claws; his face, from the +same cause, was torn and bleeding. The breath +wheezed loudly through the open mouth; the sweat +ran in streams from the face; the eyes rolled whitely. +There was terror in his expression. He carried a +thick club. Now, as he came to a halt, it was plain to +the watcher that the runner’s fear had at last driven +him to make a stand, when he could flee no further. +Zeke had no difficulty in understanding the situation +sufficiently well. The negro was undoubtedly a +criminal who had fled in the hope of refuge from +the law in the swamp’s secret lurking places. Now +trailed by the dog, he was brought to bay. Zeke +determined, as a measure of prudence, to remain inactive +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +until the issue between man and dog should +be adjusted. Otherwise, he might find himself engaged +against both man and beast with only a single +bullet to his aid.</p> +<p>The querulous cries of the dog here and there +showed that the scent had been lost where the negro +had splashed through some pool. Then, abruptly, a +sharp volley announced recovery of the track. A +minute later a huge black-and-tan body catapulted +from the thicket into the open space of the trail. +From his cover, Zeke watched excitedly. The +negro, who had stood with club swung back ready +for the blow, was caught at disadvantage by the pursuer’s +emergence at an unexpected point. The +branches of the thicket projected to prevent a blow. +The dog, silent now, hurled itself straight at the +man’s throat. But the negro, alert to the peril, +avoided the charge by a swift spring to the side. +Zeke heard the great jaws of the beast click shut +as it shot harmlessly past its foe; he heard the savage +growl with which it whirled to renew the attack. +As it leaped a second time the negro’s club fell true +in a mighty stroke—caught the creature fair on the +skull, stopped it in midair, dropped it dead to the +ground.</p> +<p>Zeke’s turn in the action was come, at last. Even +as the negro stood gloating over his victory, the +mountaineer, with leveled rifle, stepped from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +concealment of the cypress, and cried a sharp command:</p> +<p>“Drop thet-thar club, an’ stand still whar ye be, +if ye don’t want to be kilt!”</p> +<p>The effect on the exultant negro was almost pitiful. +Where had been the assurance of final escape +was now the certainty of capture. The shock of +contrasting emotions was too much for the fellow’s +strength, coarse-fibered and hardened as he was. He +stared at Zeke with protruding eyes, his face grown +gray. His thrilling joy in the slaying of the dog +was lost in the black despair of defeat. The club +fell from the trembling fingers, and in the next +moment the man himself sagged to the ground and +crouched whimpering, whining, in a child-like abandon +to fatigue and grief. Then, presently, while the +captor watched in some perplexity, the moaning +ceased. In its stead came a raucous rhythm—the +sleep of utter exhaustion.</p> +<p>A sound of footsteps on the path caught Zeke’s +ear. He turned, and saw close at hand a short, +stockily built, swarthy-complexioned man of middle +age, who came swinging forward at a lope. The +newcomer halted at sight of the mountaineer.</p> +<p>“Seen anything of a big nigger or a hound passing +this way?” he demanded.</p> +<p>Zeke nodded, gravely.</p> +<p>“Ye’ll find the two of ’em right thar.” He raised +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +the rifle, which the other man now observed for the +first time, and with it pointed to where, beyond the +cypress-tree, the negro huddled, breathing stertorously, +beside the dead body of the dog.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V' id='CHAPTER_V'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> +<p>Dun clouds of tragedy, crimson-streaked with +sinister romance, shadow the chronicles of +the forty-mile square that makes the Dismal +Swamp. Thither, aforetime, even as to-day, +men fled into the labyrinthine recesses to escape the +justice—or the injustice—of their fellows. Runaway +slaves sought asylum within its impenetrable +and uncharted mazes of thicket and quaking earth, +of fetid pool and slithering quicksands. Such fugitives +came no more after the emancipation. Instead +of slaves, there were black men who had outraged +the law, who fled into the steaming, noxious waste +in order to evade the penalty for crime. For a time, +these evil-doers were hunted through the tortuous +trails in the canebrakes with blood-hounds, even as +their predecessors had been. But the kennels of the +man-hunting dogs were ravaged by the black tongue, +soon after the ending of the Civil War. Poisoners, +too, took toll of the too intelligent brutes. The +strain rapidly grew less—became extinct. Whereat, +the criminals of Dismal Swamp rejoiced in unholy +glee. Their numbers waxed. Soon, they came to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +a serious menace to the peace and safety of the communities +that bordered on the infested region.</p> +<p>One sufferer from these conditions so resented the +depredations of marauders that he bought in England +two splendid stag-hounds, keen of scent, intelligent, +faithful to their task, strong enough to +throttle their quarry, be it deer or man. By the aid +of these creatures, many criminals were captured. +Their owner, by the intrepidity of his pursuit, was +given a nickname, “Cyclone” Brant. The speed and +force and resistlessness of him justified the designation. +Together with his dogs, Jack and Bruno, he +won local fame for daring and successful exploits +against the lurking swamp devils. It was this man +who now, canvas-clad, with rifle in hand, looked in +the direction indicated by Zeke. He was dripping +wet, plastered with slime of the bogs. For a few +seconds, he stood staring in silence. Then a little, +gasping cry broke from his lips. He strode forward, +and fell to his knees beside the body of the +dog. He lifted the face of the hound gently in his +two hands, and looked down at it for a long time.</p> +<p>There was a film of tears in Brant’s eyes when, at +last, he put the head of the dog softly back on the +earth, and stood up, and turned toward the mountaineer. +He made explanation with simple directness. +The negro was a notorious outlaw, for whose +capture the authorities of Elizabeth City offered a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +reward of five hundred dollars. Half of this sum +would be duly paid to Zeke.</p> +<p>This news stirred the young man to the deeps. +To his poverty-stricken experience, the amount was +princely. The mere mention of it made privations +to vanish away, luxuries to flourish. He had roseate +visions of lavish expenditures: a warm coat for the +old mother, furbelows for Plutina, “straighteners” +even, if she would have them. The dreamer +blushed at the intimacy of his thought. It did not +occur to his frugal soul that now he need not continue +on <i>The Bonita</i>, but might instead go easily +to New York by train. He was naïvely happy in +this influx of good fortune, and showed his emotion +in the deepened color under the tan of his cheeks +and in the dancing lights of the steady eyes.</p> +<p>“I’m shore plumb glad I kotched him,” he said +eagerly, “if thar’s a right smart o’ money in hit. +If he’s as right-down bad as ye says he is, I’m +powerfully sorry I didn’t wing ’im ’fore he got +yer dawg.”</p> +<p>Brant shook his head regretfully.</p> +<p>“It’s my fault,” he confessed. “I oughtn’t to +have taken the chance with Bruno alone. I should +have had Jack along, too. With more than one +dog, a man won’t stand against ’em. He’ll take to +a tree.” He shook off the depression that +descended as he glanced down at the stiffening body +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +of the beast. There was a forced cheerfulness in +his tones when he continued: “But how did you get +into the swamp? I take you to be from the mountains.”</p> +<p>Zeke’s manner suddenly indicated no small pride.</p> +<p>“I’m a sailor, suh,” he explained, with great dignity. +“I’m the cookin’ chief on the fishin’ steamer, +<i>Bonita</i>.”</p> +<p>Brant surveyed the mountaineer with quizzically +appraising eyes.</p> +<p>“Been a sailor long?” he questioned, innocently.</p> +<p>“Wall, no, I hain’t,” Zeke conceded. His voice +was reluctant. “I was only tuk on las’ night. I +hain’t rightly begun sailorin’ yit. Thet’s how I +c’d come arter thet gobbler.” He pointed to the +bird lying at the foot of the cypress. Abruptly, +his thoughts veered again to the reward. “Oh, +cracky! Jest think of all thet money earned in two +minutes! Hit’s what I come down out o’ the mountains +fer, an’ hit ’pears like I done right. I’d shore +be tickled to see all thet-thar money in dimes an’ +nickels, n’ mebby a few quarters thrown in!”</p> +<p>“You’re tied up near here?” Brant inquired.</p> +<p>“’Bout a mile over,” was the answer. “Will ye +take yer nigger thar first?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know Captain Lee. He’ll give me a +chance at your gobbler, and then passage to Elizabeth +City.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></p> +<p>That same afternoon, <i>The Bonita</i> continued her +voyage. The captain obligingly made a landing at +Elizabeth City, where Brant lodged his prisoner, +and where the gratified Zeke stowed in his wallet +ten times as much money as he had ever before possessed +at one time. Naturally, he was in a mood +of much self-complacency, for, in addition to the +money gain, his adventure had notably increased his +prestige aboard ship, where Brant’s praise for his +prompt and efficient action was respectfully accepted. +Yet, despite his contentment, the mountaineer +found himself strangely troubled as he lay in +his bunk, after the ship had got under way. It +may be that his perturbation had a physical cause, +at least in part, for there was more movement now +as the vessel slid through the waves of Pamlico +Sound. It was while he tossed restlessly, troubled +over this unaccustomed inability to sleep, that there +came a memory of the black bag:</p> +<p>“I plumb fergot the dum hoodoo!” Zeke muttered, +in huge disgust. “An’ the chief said I must git another +the first chance.” Then he grinned vaingloriously +into the darkness of the fore-peak. “But +I reckon hit hain’t put no cuss on me yit—seein’ as +how I got a job an’ a peck o’ money right smack +off.” Presently, however, his nervous mood suggested +a sinister possibility. “P’rhaps, it don’t work +on land—only jest on the sea, or mebby jest whar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +it happens to be at. Hit wa’n’t ’long with me when +I ketched the nigger. I ’low I ought to ’a’ got +rid o’ the pesky thing like the chief said.”</p> +<p>Zeke realized that sleep was not for him. If he +had had any hope otherwise, it was ended when the +fog-horn of <i>The Bonita</i> wound its melancholy blasts, +and other trumpetings began to sound over the +waste from near and far. Already, by dint of +many inquiries, Zeke had acquired enough information +to know that the mournful noise was the accompaniment +of a fog. Curious to see, he rose, +and felt his way to the small port-hole, through +which he sought to peer out into the night. His +vision compassed no more than a few fathom’s distance; +beyond, all was blackness. The port was +open, and the cold mist stealing in chilled him. Zeke +shivered, but an inexplicable disturbance of spirit +kept him from the warmth of the blankets. He +chose rather to slip on his trousers, and then again +to gaze blindly out into the mysterious dark of this +new world. He found himself hearkening intently +for the varied calls of warning that went wailing +hither and yon. The mellow, softly booming, +yet penetrant notes of the conch-shells blown by +the skippers of smaller craft, came almost soothingly +to his ears. All the others, harsher, seemed tocsins +of terror.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus-054.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 431px; height: 669px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 431px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +THE LOVERS ON STONE MOUNTAIN.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p>Standing there at the port, with the floating +drops of mist drenching his face, Zeke fell into a +waking dream. He was again clambering over the +scarped cliffs of Stone Mountain; beside him Plutina. +His arm was about her waist, and their +hands were clasped, as they crept with cautious, feeling +steps amid the perils of the path. For over +the lofty, barren summit, the mist had shut down +in impenetrable veils. Yet, through that murk of +vapor, the two, though they moved so carefully, +went in pulsing gladness, their hearts singing the +old, old, new, new mating song. A mist not born +of the sea nor of the mountain, but of the heart, +was in the lad’s eyes while he remembered and +lived again those golden moments in the mountain +gloom. It seemed to him for a blessed minute that +Plutina was actually there beside him in the tiny, +rocking space of the fore-peak; that the warmth of +her hand-clasp thrilled into the beating of his +pulses. Though the illusion vanished swiftly, the +radiance of it remained, for he knew that then, +and always, the spirit of the girl dwelt with him.</p> +<p>The mountaineer’s interval of peace was rudely +ended. A wild volley of blasts from <i>The Bonita’s</i> +whistle made alarum. Bells clanged frantically in +the engine-room close at hand. A raucous fog-horn +clamored out of the dark. To Zeke, still dazedly +held to thought of the mountains, the next sound +was like the crashing down of a giant tree, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +falls with the tearing, splitting din of branches +beating through underbrush. An evil tremor shook +the boat. Of a sudden, <i>The Bonita</i> heeled over to +starboard, almost on her beams’ ends. Zeke saved +himself from falling only by a quick clutch on the +open port. From the deck above came a contusion +of fierce voices, a strident uproar of shouts and +curses. Then, <i>The Bonita</i> righted herself, tremulously, +languidly, as one sore-stricken might sit up, +very feebly. The sailors in the fore-peak, with a +chorus of startled oaths, leaped from the bunks, and +fled to the deck. Zeke followed.</p> +<p>Clinging to a stanchion, the mountaineer could +distinguish vaguely, in the faint lights of the lanterns, +the bows of a three-masted schooner, which had +sheared through the port-side of <i>The Bonita</i>. The +bowsprit hung far over the smaller ship, a wand +of doom. The beating of the waves against the +boat’s side came gently under the rasping, crunching +complaint of timber against timber in combat. +The schooner’s sails flapped softly in the light +breeze. Zeke, watching and listening alertly, +despite bewilderment, heard the roaring commands +of a man invisible, somewhere above him, and +guessed that this must be the captain of the +schooner. He saw the crew of <i>The Bonita</i> clambering +one after another at speed, up the anchor +chain at the bow of the destroyer. He realized +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +that flight was the only road to safety. But, even +as he was tensed to dart forward, he remembered his +treasure of money under the bunk pillow.</p> +<p>On the instant, he rushed to the fore-peak, seized +the wallet and the black bag, and fled again to the +deck. At the moment when he reappeared, a gust of +quickening breeze filled the schooner’s sails. The +canvas bellied taut. The grinding, clashing clamor +of the timbers swelled suddenly. The schooner +wrenched herself free, and slipped, abruptly silent, +away into the night and the mist. Ere Zeke +reached the rail in his leap, the schooner had vanished. +For a minute, he heard a medley of voices. +Then, while he stood straining his eyes in despair, +these sounds lessened—died. The mountaineer +stood solitary and forsaken on the deck of a sinking +ship.</p> +<p>Finally, Zeke spoke aloud in self-communion. +The words rang a little tremulous, for he realized +that he was at grips with death.</p> +<p>“Hit’s what I gits fer fergittin’,” was his regretful +comment. “I reckon, if so be I’d ever got onto +thet-thar schooner with this-hyar damn’ bag, she’d +’a’ sunk, too. Or, leastways, they’d have chucked +me overboard like Jonah, fer causin’ the hull cussed +trouble with this pesky black bag o’ mine.”</p> +<p>Zeke perceived that the doomed vessel was settling +by the head. He surmised that time was short. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +Nevertheless, he took leisure for one duty he +deemed of prime importance. With all his strength +in a vicious heave, he cast the black bag from him +into the sea.</p> +<p>“I hain’t superstitious,” he remarked, sullenly; +“thet is, not exzackly. An’ I reckon I’m gittin’ rid o’ +that conjure satchel a mite late. I guess hit’s done +hit’s damnedest a’ready.”</p> +<p>Inquiries during the leisurely voyaging through +the canal had given Zeke knowledge concerning the +life-belts. Now, he buckled one of them about his +body hastily, for even his ignorance could not fail +to interpret the steady settling of the vessel into +the water. The strain of fighting forebears in the +lad set him courageous in the face of death. But his +blood was red and all a-tingle with the joy of life, +and he was very loath to die. His heart yearned +for the girl who loved him. His desire for her was +a stabbing agony. The thought of his mother’s +destitution, deprived of him in her old age, was +grievous. But his anguish was over the girl—anguish +for himself; yet more for her. The drizzle +of the fog on his cheeks brought again a poignant +memory of the mist that had enwrapped them on +the stark rocks of the mountain. A savage revolt +welled in him against the monstrous decree of fate. +He cried out roughly a challenge to the elements. +Then, in the next instant, he checked the futile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +outburst, and bethought him how best to meet the +catastrophe.</p> +<p>The instinct of flight from the rising waters led +Zeke to mount the pilot-house. The lanterns shed +a flickering light here, and the youth uttered a cry +of joy as his eyes fell on the life-raft. The shout +was lost in the hissing of steam as the sea rushed +in on the boilers. All the lights were extinguished +now, save the running lamps with their containers +of oil. Quickly, the noise from the boiler-room +died out, and again there was silence, save for the +occasional bourdoning of the horns or the mocking +caress of the waves that lapped the vessel’s sides—like +a colossal serpent licking the prey it would devour +betimes. In the stillness, Zeke wrought +swiftly. He wasted no time over the fastenings. The +blade of his knife slashed through the hemp lashings, +and the raft lay clear. He made sure that it was +free from the possibility of entanglement. Then, +as the boat lurched sickeningly, like a drunken man +to a fall, Zeke stretched himself face downward +lengthwise of the tiny structure, and clenched his +hands on the tubes. There was a period of dragging +seconds, while <i>The Bonita</i> swayed sluggishly, +in a shuddering rhythm. Came the death spasm. +The stern was tossed high; the bow plunged for +the depths. Down and down—to the oyster rocks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +of Teach’s Hole, in Pamlico Sound. As the vessel +sank, the raft floated clear for a moment, then the +suction drew it under, buffeted it—spewed it forth. +It rode easily on the swirling waters, at last. As +the commotion from the ship’s sinking ceased, the +raft moved smoothly on the surface, rocking gently +with the pulse of the sea. Zeke, half-strangled, +almost torn from his place by the grip of the water +in the plunge, clung to his refuge with all the +strength that was in him. And that strength prevailed. +Soon, he could breathe fully once again, +and the jaws of the sea gave over their gnawing. +After the mortal peril through which he had won, +Zeke found his case not so evil. The life was still +in him, and he voiced a crude phrase of gratefulness +to Him who is Lord of the deep waters, even +as of the everlasting hills.</p> +<p>Near Teach’s Hole, Ocracoke Inlet offers a shallow +channel between the dunes from Pamlico +Sound to the open sea. Here the varying tides rush +angrily, lashed by the bulk of waves behind. To-night, +the ebb bore with it a cockle-shell on which +a lad clung, shivering. But the soul was still strong +in him for all his plight. He dared believe that he +would yet return safe to the mountains, to the love +that awaited him there.</p> +<p>Once the castaway smiled wryly: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></p> +<p>“I hain’t superstitious none—leastways, I dunno’s +I be,” he muttered, doubtfully. “But hit’s +plumb lucky I got rid o’ thet-thar dum black bag +jest as I did, or I’d ’a’ been a goner, shore!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI' id='CHAPTER_VI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +</div> +<p>The days dragged heavily for Plutina, after +the departure of her lover. She endured +the period of tense waiting as best she +might, since endure she must, but this passive loneliness, +without a word from the man of her heart, +was well-nigh intolerable. She did not weep—after +that single passionate outburst while yet her lips +were warm from his kiss. She was not of the +weak fiber to find assuagement in many tears, nor +had she nerves that needed the chemical soothing +of flooded eyes. She had, indeed, strength sufficient +for the trial. She bore her sorrow bravely +enough, but it pierced her through and through. She +knew her lover, and she knew herself. Because of +that knowledge she was spared the shameful suffering +of a woman who fears, with deadly fear, lest +her lover be untrue. Plutina had never a doubt as +to the faith of the absent one. A natural jealousy +sometimes leaped in her bosom, at thought of him +exposed to the wiles of women whom she suspected +of all wantonness. But she had no cowardly +thought that the fairest and most cunning of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +could oust her from the shrine of Zeke’s heart. +Her great grief lay in the failure of any word +from the traveler. The days became weeks; almost +a month had gone since he held her in his +arms, and still no message came. This was, in +truth, strange enough to justify alarm. It was +with difficulty that she drove back a temptation to +imagine evil happenings. She went oftener the six +miles to the Cherry Lane post-office.</p> +<p>When she descended the trail toward Thunder +Branch this morning, she saw Zeke’s mother standing +in the doorway of the cabin on the far side of +the stream. The bent figure of the old woman +rested motionless, with one hand lifted to shade her +eyes from the vivid sunlight, as she watched the +girl’s approach.</p> +<p>“Mornin’, Tiny,” she said tenderly, as the girl +crossed the clearing. “On yer way to the Lane, I +reckon?”</p> +<p>“Mornin’, Mis’ Higgins,” came the cheery +answer. “Yes, I ’lowed as how ye’d love to hear, +an’ I c’d git away. The corn’s laid by; the sorghum +cane’s done hoed. Alviry’s gone to he’p Gran’pap +with a bee-tree. Hit’s a big yaller poplar, up ’twixt +Ted Hutchins’ claim an’ the ole mine-hole. Gran’pap +’lows as how hit ’ll have to be cut an’ split, an’ +wuth hit—over a hundred pounds, all sour-wood +honey, ’cept ’bout ten pounds early poplar. Gran’pap’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +right-smart tickled. I told Alviry to watch +out he don’t go an’ tote half of it up to thet-thar +Widder Brown. You-all must come over an’ git +what ye kin use o’ the honey, Mis’ Higgins, afore +the widder gits her fingers in the jar.”</p> +<p>“Ye don’t opine thet-thar gran’pap o’ your’n aims +to git hitched ag’in at his age, do ye, Tiny? Hit’d +be plumb scand’lous—an’ him eighty past. At thet +age, he’s bound to have one foot in the grave, fer +all he’s so tarnation spry an’ peart in his carryin’s +on.”</p> +<p>“Lord knows what he’ll do,” the girl replied, +carelessly. “He’s allers been given credit fer havin’ +fotchin’ ways with women. I hope he won’t, though. +They say, folks what marry upwards o’ eighty is +mighty short-lived.”</p> +<p>The topic led Zeke’s mother to broach apprehension +of her own:</p> +<p>“Tiny, ye don’t have no idee thet our Zeke’s gone +daffy on some o’ them Evish-lookin’ critters +down below, like ye showed me their picters in the +city paper oncet?”</p> +<p>“Naw, no danger o’ thet,” was the stout assurance. +“Zeke’s got too much sense. Besides, he +hain’t had no time to git rich yit. The paper done +said as how them kind’s arter the coin.”</p> +<p>As she went her way, the girl’s mind reveled in +thoughts of the days to come, when Zeke should be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +rich in sooth, and his riches for her. She swung +her sun-bonnet in vigorous slaps against her bare +legs, to scatter the ravenous mosquitoes and yellow +flies, swarming from the thickets, and she smiled +contentedly.</p> +<p>“P’r’aps, them women’s got more edication ’n +me,” she mused aloud, complacently, “but I kin fill +them silk stockin’s plumb up.” Her face grew brooding +with a wistful regret in the sudden droop of +the tender red lips. “I ’low I jest orter ’a’ swung +onto thet-thar neck o’ his’n an’ hollered fer Parson, +and got spliced ’fore he went.” She shook +her head disconsolately. “Why, if he don’t come +back, I’ll be worse nor the widders. Humph, I +knows ’em—cats. They’ll say: ‘Tiny Siddon didn’t +never have no chance to git married—her disperzition +an’ her looks wa’n’t compellin’ ’nough to ketch +a man.’”</p> +<p>The great dark eyes were clouded a little with +bitter disappointment, when, two hours later, the +girl came swiftly down the steep slopes from +Cherry Lane, for once again there had been no letter +for her. Despite her courage, Plutina felt a chill +of dismay before the mystery of this silence. +Though faith was unshaken, bewilderment oppressed +her spirit. She could not understand, and +because she could not understand, her grief was +heavy to bear. Then, presently, she chanced upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +a new mystery for her distraction—though this +was the easier to her solving.</p> +<p>As she descended into a hollow by Luffman’s +branch, which joins Thunder Branch a little way +above the Higgins’ clearing, Plutina’s alert ears +caught a sound that was not of the tumbling waters. +Through all the noises of the stream where it leaped +and sprayed in miniature falls over cluttering bowlders +and fallen pines, she could distinguish the +splashing of quick footsteps in the shallows. Some +instinct of caution checked the girl’s advance. Instead +of going forward openly, she turned aside and +approached the bank where crowding alders and +ivy formed a screen. Here, she parted the vines +stealthily, and peered up the water-course.</p> +<p>A man was descending the run with hurried +strides, wading with bare feet, or springing from +rock to rock where were the deeper pools. A Winchester +nestled in the crook of his left arm; two +huge bear-traps, the jaws wickedly fanged, were +swung from a rope over his right shoulder; a short-helved +ax was thrust within his belt. He wore only +a cotton shirt open at the neck, dirty throughout, +patched jeans trousers, and a soft hat, green from +long use. Beneath the shading brim showed a +loutish face, the coarse features swollen from dissipation, +the small black eyes bleared, yet alert and +penetrating in their darting, furtive glances. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +was Dan Hodges, a man of unsavory repute. The +girl, though unafraid, blessed the instinct that had +guided her to avoid a meeting.</p> +<p>There were two prime factors in Plutina’s detestation +of Hodges. The first was due to his insolence, +as she deemed it, in aspiring for her favor. +With little training in conventional ideas of delicacy, +the girl had, nevertheless, a native refinement +not always characteristic of her more-cultured sister +women. There was to her something unspeakably +repugnant in the fact that this bestial person +should dare to think of her intimately. It was as +if she were polluted by his dreaming of her kisses, +of her yielding to his caresses. That he had so +aspired she knew, for he had told her of his desire +with the coarse candor of his kind. Her spurning +of the uncouth advances had excited his wrath; it +had not destroyed his hopes. He had even ventured +to renew his suit, after the news of an engagement +between Plutina and Zeke had gone abroad. He +had winced under the scourge of the girl’ scorn, +but he had shown neither penitence nor remorse. +Plutina had forborne any account of this trouble to +her lover, lest, by bad blood between the two men, +a worse thing befall.</p> +<p>The second cause of the girl’s feeling was less +direct, though of longer standing, and had to do +with the death of her father. That Siddon, while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +yet in his prime, had been slain in a raid on a still +by the revenue officers, and that despite the fact +that he was not concerned in the affair, save by the +unfortunate chance of being present. Plutina, +though only a child at the time, could still remember +the horror of that event. There was a singular +personal guiltiness, too, in her feeling, for, on the +occasion of the raid, her grandfather had been looking +out from a balcony, and had seen the revenue +men urging their horses up the trail, the sunlight +glinting on their carbines. He had seized the great +horn, to blow a warning to those at the secret still +on the mountain above. Plutina could remember +yet the grotesque bewilderment on his face, as no +sound issued—then the wrath and despair. The +children, in all innocence, had stuffed the horn with +rags. The prank had thus, in a way, cost two +lives—one, that of “Young” Dick Siddon. The +owner of the raided still had been Dan Hodges, and +him Plutina despised and hated with a virulence +not at all Christian, but very human. She had all +the old-time mountaineer’s antipathy for the extortion, +as it was esteemed, of the Federal Government, +and her father’s death had naturally inflamed +her against those responsible for it. Yet, her loathing +of Hodges caused her to regret that the man +himself had escaped capture thus far, though twice +his still had been destroyed, once within the year.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus-068.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 624px; height: 444px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 624px;'> +<br /> +<i>Claudia Kimball Young under the direction of Louis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +A MOUNTAIN “STILL.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>A high, jutting wall of rock hid the stream +where it bent sharply a little way from Plutina’s +shelter. Presently, she became aware that Hodges +had paused thus beyond the range of her vision, +and was busy there. She heard the blows of the +ax. General distrust of the man stirred up in her +a brisk curiosity concerning the nature of his action +in this place. On a previous day, she had observed +that the limpid waters of the brook had been sullied +by the milky refuse from a still somewhere in the +reaches above. Now, the presence of Dan Hodges +was sufficient to prove the hidden still his. But +the fact did not explain his business here. That +it was something evil, she could not doubt, for the +man and his gang were almost outlaws among their +own people. They were known, though unpunished, +thieves, as well as “moonshiners,” and there were +whispers of more dreadful things—of slain men +vanished into the unsounded depths of the Devil’s +Cauldron. The gorge of the community—careless +as it had been of some laws in the past, and too +ready to administer justice according to its own +code—had risen against the vicious living of the +gang that accepted Hodges as chief. It seemed to +Plutina that duty conspired with curiosity to set +her spying on the man.</p> +<p>The espionage, though toilsome enough, was not +otherwise difficult. Toward the bend, the banks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +rose sharply on both sides of the stream, forming a +tiny cañon for the channel. The steep slope on +the east side, where the girl now ascended, was +closely overgrown with laurel and little thickets +of ground pine, through which she was hard beset +to force her way—the more since she must move +with what noiselessness she might. But her strength +and skill compassed the affair with surprising +quickness. Presently, she came to the brim of the +little cliff, and lying outstretched, cautiously looked +down. Already, a hideous idea had entered her +mind, but she had rejected it with horror. What +she now saw confirmed the thought she had not +dared to harbor.</p> +<p>Within this bend of the brook, the lessening +volume of the channel had left a patch of rich soil, +heavily overgrown with lush grasses and clusters +of flowering weeds. A faint trace of passing steps +ran across the bit of dry ground, the path of those +that followed the stream’s course. Fair in this +dim trail, near the center of the plot, a stake had +been driven deep. At the moment, Hodges was +driving into the ground a similar stake, a yard +further down. It was evident that the stakes had +been previously left here in readiness, since he had +not carried them in his descent, and the iron rings +bound to them must have been attached in a forge. +The two massive traps were lying half-hidden in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +the luxuriant growth close by. As Plutina watched +with affrighted intentness, the man finished driving +the second stake. He lifted one of the traps, +and carried it to the upper stake. With the aid of +a stone for anvil, he succeeded in clumsily riveting +the trap’s length of chain to the ring on the stake. +The like was done with the other trap at the lower +stake. Then, the man undertook the setting of the +traps. The task was accomplished very quickly for +both, though the strength of the jaws taxed his +muscles to their utmost. Finally, he strewed leaves, +and bent grass, until no least gleam of metal betrayed +the masked peril of the trail. Plutina, sick +with the treacherous deviltry of the device, heard +the grunt of satisfaction with which Hodges contemplated +his finished work. Forthwith, he picked +up his rifle, thrust the ax-helve within his belt, and +set off up the gulch.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII' id='CHAPTER_VII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +</div> +<p>There could be no doubt. Those massive +traps, with their cruel teeth of steel, +meant by the makers for the holding of +beasts, had been set here by Hodges for the snaring +of men. The contrivance was fiendishly efficient. +From her coign of vantage on the cliff top, Plutina +could see, on a height above, the brush-covered +distillery. A thin, blue column of smoke rose +straight in the calm air, witness that the kettle was +boiling over hickory logs, that a “run” of the liquor +was being made. Plutina recalled that, in a recent +raid against Hodges, the still had been captured +and destroyed though the gang had escaped. Such +loss was disastrous, for the new copper and worm +and fermenters meant a cost of a hundred dollars, +a sum hard to come on in the mountain coves. +Usually, the outfit is packed on the men’s backs to +hiding in the laurel, afterward shifted to another +obscure nook by running water. It was plain that +Hodges had grown more than ever venomous over +the destruction of his still, and had no scruples as +to the means he would employ to prevent a repetition +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +of such catastrophe. No need now to fear +lest sentinels be not alert. The natural path to the +still was along the course of the stream. The unwary +passer over the tiny stretch of greensward on +which the girl looked down, would follow the dim +trail of footsteps, and so inevitably come within the +clutch of the great jaws, which would hurl themselves +together, rending and crunching the flesh between. +The victim’s shrieks of anguish under the +assault would be a warning to the lawless men +above. They would make ready and flee with their +possessions, and be lost in the laurel once again. +Yes, the device was simple, diabolically simple, and +adequate. It required only that its executant should +be without bowels of compassion.</p> +<p>Plutina, strong-nerved as she was, found herself +shuddering as she realized the heinousness of this +thing. The soft bloom of the roses in her cheeks +faded to white; the dark radiance of the eyes was +dimmed with horror; the exquisite lips were compressed +harshly against their own quivering weakness. +For Plutina, despite strength of body and +sane poise of soul, was a gentle and tender woman, +and the brutal project spread before her eyes was +an offense to every sensibility. Then, very soon, the +mood of passive distress yielded to another emotion: +a lust for vengeance on the man who would +insure his own safety thus, reckless of another’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +cost. A new idea came to the girl. At its first +advent, she shrank from it, conscience-stricken, for +it outraged the traditions of her people. But the +idea returned, once and again. It seemed to her +that the evil of the man justified her in any measure +for his punishment. She had been bred to +hate and despise a spy, but it was borne in on her +now that duty required of her to turn informer +against Dan Hodges. There was more even than +the inflicting of punishment on the outlaw; there +was the necessity of safeguarding the innocent +from the menace of those hidden man-traps. Any +“furriner” from down below might wander here, +whipping the stream; or any one of the neighborhood +might chance on the spot. The Widow Higgins’ +heifers sometimes strayed; the old woman +might come hither, seeking them. Plutina shuddered +again, before the terrible vision of the one +who was like a mother to her, caught and mangled +by the pointed fangs waiting amid the grasses +below.</p> +<p>The question as to her right conduct in the affair +remained with the girl, as she descended from +the cliff, and made her way slowly homeward. She +temporized by a precautionary measure. At the +widow’s cabin, she secured the old woman’s promise +not to go beyond the clearing in quest of the +cattle. But the difficulty as to her course was not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +abated. Inclination urged her to advise the authorities +concerning the locations of still and traps, and +inclination was reinforced by justice. Yet, over +against this, there were the powerful influence of her +upbringing, the circumstances of her environment, +the tragedy of her father’s death, the savage resentment +of her grandfather, already virulent against +her lover—all forces to inspire enmity against the +representatives of a law regarded as the violation +of inalienable rights. True, there was growing an +insidious change in the sentiment of the community. +Where all had once been of accord, the better element +were now becoming convinced that the illicit +liquor-making cursed the mountains, rather than +blessed. Undoubtedly, some effect of this had +touched the girl herself, without her knowledge, +else she had never thought to betray even such a miscreant +as Hodges. There was, however, an abiding +hate of the informer here, as always among +decent folk, though along with it went reprobation of +the traffic in moonshine. Plutina felt that she could +never justify her action in the sight of her people, +should she bring the revenue men into the mountain. +Her own grandfather would curse her, and +drive her forth. His feeling had been shown clearly +in the case of Zeke. So, in her period of uncertainty +and stress, there was none of whom the +girl could take counsel. But, in the end, she decided +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +that she must give warning to the United +States marshal. The task demanded care. On +absolute secrecy depended, in all likelihood, her very +life.</p> +<p>The trove of honey had come opportunely, since +the sale of a portion afforded Plutina plausible excuse +for her trip to Joines’ store. There, a telephone +had been recently installed, and it was the +girl’s intention to use this means of communication +with the marshal. That the danger of detection +was great, she was unhappily aware, but, she could +devise no plan that seemed less perilous. So, early +in the morning of the day following her discovery, +she made her way along the North Wilkesboro’ +road, carrying twenty pounds of the sour-wood +honey. At the store, she did her trading, and +afterward remained loitering, as is the custom of +shoppers in the region. The interval of waiting +seemed to her interminable, for trade was brisk. +There was always someone near enough the telephone +to overhear, for it was unprotected by a booth. +But, finally, the customers lessened. The few remaining +were in the front of the store, at a safe +distance from the instrument which was on a shelf +at the back. Plutina believed that her opportunity +was come. She knew the amount of the toll, and +had the necessary silver in her hand to slip into the +box. Then, just as she was about to take down the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +receiver, her apprehensive glance, roving the room, +fell on Ben York, who entered briskly, notwithstanding +his seventy years, and came straight toward +her. Plutina’s lifted hand fell to her side, and +dread was heavy on her. For Ben York was the +distiller in Hodges’ gang.</p> +<p>The old man had a reputation almost as notorious +as that of Hodges himself. The girl felt a wave +of disgust, mingled with alarm, as she caught sight +of the face, almost hidden behind a hoary thicket +of whiskers. The fellow was dirty, as always, and +his ragged clothes only emphasized the emaciation +of his dwarfed form. But the rheumy eyes had a +searching quality that disturbed the girl greatly. +She knew that the man was distinguished for his +intelligence as well as for his general worthlessness. +In the experience of years, he had always escaped +the raiders, nor had they been able ever to secure +any evidence against him. He was, in fact, as adroit +of mind as he was tough of body. He had lived hard +all his days, either in drunken carouse or lying out +in the laurel to escape the summons of the courts. +Where, alas! a holier man might have been broken +long ago, the aged reprobate thrived, and threatened +to infest the land for years to come. Now, he +greeted the girl casually enough, made a purchase, +and took his departure. He seemed quite unsuspicious, +but Plutina felt that his coming on her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +thus was an evil omen, and, for a moment, she +faltered in her purpose.</p> +<p>A hand went to her bosom, and touched the tiny +leather bag that hung from a cord about her neck +inside the gown. Within it was the fairy crystal. +The touch of it strengthened her in some subtle +fashion. It was as if to her weakness there came +miraculously something vital, something occultly +helpful in her need, from the distant lover. The +superstition, begotten and nourished always in the +fastnesses of the heights, stirred deeply within her, +and comforted her. Of a sudden, courage flowed +back into her. She took down the receiver.</p> +<p>After all, nothing was accomplished. The marshal +was not in his office, but absent somewhere in +the mountains. Plutina would not risk giving information +to any other than the officer himself, +whom she knew, and respected. Disconsolate, she +abandoned the attempt for the time being, and set +out to get a bag of wheat flour from the mill close +by, on the other side of Roaring River.</p> +<p>As Plutina, with the bag of flour on shoulder, was +making her way back from the mill, across the +big sycamore trunk that serves as a foot bridge, a +horse splashed into the ford alongside. The girl +looked up, to see the very man she sought. Marshal +Stone called a cheery greeting, the while his +horse dropped its head to drink. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></p> +<p>“Howdy, Plutina?”</p> +<p>“Howdy, Mr. Stone,” she answered. Her free +hand went again to the talisman in her bosom. +Surely, its charm was potent!</p> +<p>“All’s well as common, at home?” Stone continued. +His critical eyes delighted in the unconscious +grace of the girl, as she stood poised above the +brawling stream, serene in her physical perfection; +and above the delicately modeled symmetry of form +was the loveliness of the face, beautiful as a flower, +yet strong, with the shining eyes and the red lips, +now parted in eagerness. The marshal wondered +a little at that eagerness. He wondered still more +at her hurried speech after one quick glance to make +sure that none could overhear:</p> +<p>“I mustn’t be seed talkin’ to ye, but I got somethin’ +to say ’ll he’p ye arn yer pay. Kin ye meet me +in an hour by the sun, at the ole gate on the east +end o’ Wolf Rock?”</p> +<p>The marshal’s answer wasted no words:</p> +<p>“Go on, gal—I’ll be there.”</p> +<p>Wolf Rock, a huge, jutting mass of barren cliff, +though tiny beside the bulk of Stone Mountain, +which overshadows it, lies between Garden Creek +and Thunder Branch, a little to the north of +where these streams flow into Roaring River. Its +situation, nearly midway between the mill and the +Siddon Cabin, made it a convenient point for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +meeting between Plutina and the officer. Its loneliness +lessened the element of danger. Both were +prompt to the rendezvous. Well under the hour, +man and girl were standing together within a bower +of newly blossoming rhododendrons. Above them, +the naked rock bent sharply, its granite surface +glistening in the hot noonday sun. They had withdrawn +some score of yards from the old wooden +gate that barred the lane here, lest a chance passer-by +see them together. Plutina opened her mind +without hesitation. The decision once made, she +had no thought of drawing back.</p> +<p>“I ’low I kin trust ye, Mister Stone,” she said +simply, and the sincerity of the lustrous eyes as +they met his confirmed her words. “Afore you-all’s +time in the revenue service, raiders done kilt +my daddy. I kain’t never fergive them men, but +they’s out o’ the service now, er I wouldn’t have +come to ye. Gran’pap says they’s a better lot o’ +revenuers now ’n what used to be an’ he says as +how Marshal Stone don’t do no dirt. Thet’s why +I’m a-trusting ye, so’s ye kin kotch the pizen-meanest +white man a-makin’ likker in the hull Stone +Mountain country—him an’ his gang an’ his still.”</p> +<p>The marshal’s eyes sparkled.</p> +<p>“I reckon you’re talking about Dan Hodges,” +he interjected.</p> +<p>Plutina nodded her head in somber acquiescence.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +<img src='images/illus-080.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 633px; height: 443px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 633px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +JOINES’ MILL.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></div> +<p>“Then you needn’t have any scruples about giving +information,” Stone continued, urgently. “He +and his gang are a menace to the peace of the settlement. +I’ll keep you out of it, of course, to save you +embarrassment.”</p> +<p>“Ye’d better,” Plutina retorted, “to save my +life. I don’t know’s I mind bein’ embarrassed so +much, but I don’t feel called to die yit.”</p> +<p>“No, no; there won’t be anything like that,” the +marshal exclaimed, much disconcerted. “I’ll see no +trouble comes to you. Nobody’ll know your part.”</p> +<p>“’Cept me!” was the bitter objection. “If ’twas +anybody but that ornery galoot, I wouldn’t say a +word. Ye know that.”</p> +<p>“I know,” Stone admitted, placatingly.</p> +<p>In his desire to change her mood, he blundered +on:</p> +<p>“And there’s the reward for getting the ‘copper’—twenty +dollars for you Plutina. If we get Hodges, +I’ll give you another fifty out of my own pocket. +That’ll buy you a nice new dress or two, and a hat, +and some silk stockings for those pretty legs of +yours.”</p> +<p>Plutina flared. The red glowed hot in her cheeks, +and the big eyes flashed. The mellow voice deepened +to a note of new dignity, despite her anger.</p> +<p>“I hain’t come hyar to gas ’bout rewards, an’ +money outten yer pocket, Mister Stone, or ’bout +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +my clothes an’ sech. I’m an engaged woman. When +I wants to cover my legs with stockin’s Zeke Higgins’ +money’ll do the payin’, an’ he won’t need no +he’p from no damned revenuer.”</p> +<p>Stone, realizing too late the error in his diplomacy, +made what haste he could to retrieve it. His +smile was genial as he spoke. He seemed quite unabashed, +just heartily sympathetic, and his manner +calmed the girl’s irritation almost at once.</p> +<p>“Oh, you little mountain hornet! Well, you are +telling me news now. And it’s the kind to make any +old bachelor like me weep for envy. Lucky boy, +Zeke! I guess he knows it, too, for he’s got eyes in +his head. About the money—why, you’ve a right +to it. If Dan Hodges and his gang ain’t rounded +up quick, they’ll be killing some good citizen—like +me, perhaps.”</p> +<p>Plutina had recovered her poise, but she spoke +no less firmly:</p> +<p>“No, suh, I won’t tech the money. I kin show +ye how to kotch the hull gang, but not fer pay, an +not fer love o’ no revenuer, neither. Hit’s jest fer +the good o’ this country hyarbout. Dan Hodges +has done sot b’ar-traps to kotch you-all. An’ anybody +might walk plumb into ’em, but not if I kin +he’p hit.”</p> +<p>Forthwith, she made the situation clear to her +eager listener. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></p> +<p>“Kin you-all meet me, an hour by the sun in +the mornin’, on the trail to Cherry Lane post-office +jest beyond the Widder Higgins’ clearin’? I’ll take +ye to the place, whar ye kin see the still, an’ the +traps.”</p> +<p>“I’ll have to move lively,” the marshal answered, +with a somewhat rueful laugh. “Twenty miles’ +ride to North Wilkesboro’, and back. But I’ll do +it, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for a good deal. +I’ll have my men waiting at Trap Hill. If things +shape right, I’ll make the raid to-morrow night.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII' id='CHAPTER_VIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Marshal John Stone was a mountaineer +of the better sort, who had the respect and +admiration of the law-abiding citizens in +his district, and the hate of the evil-doers. He +stood full six feet in his socks, and he was broad +and muscled in proportion. His gray eyes were of +the sort to harden to steel against an enemy, to +soften wonderfully for a friend. The mouth, half-hidden +by the thick mustache, was very firm, yet +prone to smiles. To an excellent intelligence had +been added a fair amount of education. Since he +respected both himself and his work, and had developed +a veritable passion for the capture of malefactors, +he was more than usually successful. His +zeal, tempered with discretion, had won the appreciative +attention of official superiors. There could +be no doubt that promotion would shortly remove +him to a higher plane of service. The fact would +have been most agreeable to Stone, but for two +things. He desired beyond all else, before going +from the mountains, to capture Dan Hodges, who +had so persistently flouted the law, and himself, its +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +representative; the second unsatisfied ambition was +to come on the long-lost Burns’ still.</p> +<p>The Scottish poet’s poverty was almost equal to +his genius. On that account, Robert Burns was +glad to secure the stipend of fifty pounds a year to +which he became entitled on his appointment as +exciseman in 1788. It may be that his convivial +habits made his official position particularly acceptable, +since doubtless his perquisites included the +keeping of his own jug filled. And there were +moonshiners among the Scottish hills in those days, +as perhaps there are to-day. On occasion, the poet +made a gift of a captured still to some discreet +friend. One recipient emigrated to America, and +bore into the wilderness that has become North +Carolina the kettle and cap of copper on which +Burns had graven his name, and the date, 1790. +Afterward, as the years passed, the still knew many +owners, mostly unlawful. It won fame, and this +saved it from the junk-heap of its fellows, when +seized by the Federal officers. Three times, it was +even placed on public exhibition. As many, it was +stolen by moonshiners. For years now, it had remained +in secret. Marshal Stone yearned to recapture +the Burns still. There was no reason +whatsoever for believing it to be in the possession +of Hodges, yet it might as easily be with that desperado +as with another. There was at least the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +possibility. The marshal, as he rode north before +the dawn next morning, felt a new kindling of +hope. It seemed to him almost certain that the +opportunity was at hand to satisfy one ambition at +least by putting Hodges behind the bars. For the +other, it was on the lap of the gods.</p> +<p>The officer was at pains to use every precaution to +avoid being observed while in company with the +girl, whom he duly met at the appointed place while +the sun was yet low on the eastern horizon. The +two made their way with what quiet they could +through devious paths to Luffman’s Branch. The +dew lay heavy on the laurel leaves of the thickets, +and the breeze was perfumed with the penetrant fragrance +of many blossoms. The day was thrilling +with the matins of the birds. The balsamic air was +a wine of life. The rugged mountain peaks +seemed to stand as an impregnable barrier against +the confusions and evils of the larger world. But +the man and the girl recked nought of these things +as they went forward, with cautious steps and +watchful eyes. They knew that the tranquil scene +masked wickedness close by them, which would not +hesitate to destroy. The discovery of the marshal +in that vicinity would mean for him the bullet of +an assassin from out the screen of leaves, and the +same fate—or worse—for his companion. The +corpses would be lost in the Devil’s Cauldron. Men +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +would whisper grim surmises, and whisper low lest +the like come upon them. And that would be all.</p> +<p>They reached the cliff top overlooking the little +cañon, and Plutina pointed out the location of the +traps on the strip of dry ground below, and the huddles +of brush that disguised the buildings of the still. +Then, the girl went her way. She had done her +part. The man remained to study the scene above +for hours through his glasses, and to map out the +night’s campaign into the enemy’s country.</p> +<p>A delicate moonlight fell over the mountains, +when, in the evening, Stone led his men from the +rendezvous at Trap Hill. The six were heavily +armed and well mounted. Their course at the outset +led them along the Elkin road to Joines’ store, +where they swung into the trail over which Zeke +and Plutina had walked the day of their parting. +The cavalcade rode swiftly. There was no conversation; +only the pounding of hoofs and the +jangling of accoutrements. When, at last, they +reached the edge of the Widow Higgins’ clearing, +they turned sharply to the eastward, following the +path toward the Cherry Lane post-office. Presently, +at a low word of command from the leader, +they halted and dismounted. The horses were left +to the care of one man in a near-by thicket, and +the remainder of the party continued the advance +on foot. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></p> +<p>The marshal, during his watch on the still that +day, had planned his attack in every detail. He +hoped to make his capture of the gang without unnecessary +casualties, for in this particular he had +achieved an enviable record, on which he prided +himself. At first, he had thought of ascending along +the course of Luffman’s Branch, after springing +the traps, but had given over the plan as one offering +more chance of the raiders being discovered +prematurely. Instead, he had decided on taking his +men up the mountainside by a round-about route, +likely to be free from watchers. His men were already +instructed in every point, so now they followed +him rapidly and almost noiselessly, as he +forced his way through the thick growths of the +wooded slopes. The darkness added to the difficulties +of the progress, but the posse were inured to +hardships, and went onward and upward resolutely. +Despite the necessities of the detour, they came surprisingly +soon to a height from which they looked +across a small ravine to the level space where the +still perched by the stream. A few whispered words +from the leader, and the company crept with increased +care across the ravine. From the ridge +beyond, three of the men passed forward to make +ambush—one above, and one below, and one on the +far side of the still. Stone and a single companion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +remained, hiding behind the clumps of rhododendrons.</p> +<p>It was with huge satisfaction that the marshal +recognized Hodges himself, plainly revealed by the +firelight. The “kettle” was running at full blast. +The seasoned hickory logs, in the rough stone furnace +beneath the kettle, were burning fiercely, and +the blue and gold of their flames lighted all the +scene into vivid relief against the background of +shadows. Stone, even at his distance, could see distinctly +the tiny stream of colorless mountain-corn +whiskey, as it flowed out from the worm into the +keg placed to receive it. The leader of the gang +was seated at ease on a stool just outside the brush +enclosure that masked the buildings. The villain +was evidently in a mood of contentment, untainted +by remorse over the havoc his traps might wreak +on any passing through the gorge below. Rather, +doubtless, the memory of those sinister sentinels +gave him a sense of safety, on which his serenity +was founded. In his lap was a banjo which he +thrummed vigorously, with rhythmic precision, if +no greater musical art, and head and body and +feet, all gave emphasis to the movement. At intervals, +his raucous voice rumbled a snatch of song. +It was evident that the moonshiner was mellow +from draughts of his own potent product.</p> +<p>Others of the gang were busied here and there, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +bulking grotesquely as they moved about the fire, +seeming disheveled demons of the pit. Like some +master imp torturing a pigmy over the flames, old +Ben York was kneeling close beside the blaze, holding +to the coals a hickory stick, which served as +spit for the roasting of a squirrel. The brilliance +shone full on the frowsy gray whiskers, and, above +them, the blinking, rheumy eyes, so intent on the +proper browning of the game. None of the outlaws +had a weapon in his grasp—a fact noted with +satisfaction by the chief of the raiders, who knew +that these men would not scruple against bloodshed +to escape arrest. There were arms at hand, of +course; Hodges’ rifle was visible, leaning against +a ground pine within his reach. But Stone hoped +that the surprise would be such that the gang +could not avail themselves of their weapons.</p> +<p>Hodges had just completed a strident rendering +of “Cripple Crick,” and had thumped out the opening +bars of “Short’nin’ Bread,” when the marshal +gave the signal for attack—a single flash of his +electric torch. In the same second, the raiders’ +rifles crashed out. The big bullets struck true to +aim in the ground of the open place before the fire. +A shower of dirt and pebbles spat back viciously. +Some of the flying fragments struck the men, terrifying +them with the thought of bullet wounds. +Hodges, as the reports sounded, felt the bruise of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +stones on his bare legs, and shrieked in panic fear. +His instinctive recoil carried him over backward, +from the stool to the ground. The banjo jangled +discordant triumph over his fall. When, dazed by +the suddenness of it all, he would have struggled +up, he found himself fast in the clutches of two raiders, +who locked manacles on his wrists. Stone +grunted joyously as he surveyed the captive. The +others of the gang, except Ben York, had contrived +to slip away into the laurel, whither it would avail +nothing to follow them, save useless risk of being +killed from ambush. But the marshal cared little +for the escape of the lesser malefactors. He had +succeeded in taking prisoner the most notorious +criminal of the mountains.</p> +<p>Ben York had failed to effect his usual flight, because +of being at a disadvantage on his knees. Before +he could scramble up for a plunge into the +thickets the enemy was upon him. Yet, even in +this moment of shock, the old scoundrel’s cunning +sought and found a ruse. He stood swaying for +seconds, and then tumbled limply headlong to the +ground, in a drunkard’s fall, familiar to his muscles +by experience through three-score years. So he lay +inert, seemingly sodden from the kettle’s brew. His +captors, if resolved to hold him prisoner, would be +forced to the arduous task of carrying him through +the dark, down the rough slopes. It would be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +strange, he mused complacently, if in the course of +the journey, their vigilance did not relax a little. +And a very little would suffice him! Then, though +to all appearance in a drunken stupor, he sighed. He +was unhappily aware that the revenue men would +not be gentle in their efforts to arouse him to consciousness. +Whether they believed him shamming +or not, they would use no doubtful measures. But, +whatever might come, he must endure it for the +sake of escape.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +<img src='images/illus-092.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 627px; height: 444px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 627px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +AFTER THE RAID.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></div> +<p>The raiders realized the need of haste, for they +must be done with their work here, and down the +steeps of the mountain into the open road, ere the +fugitives should have time to arm themselves, and +waylay the posse from the thickets. So, with due +watchfulness of the two prisoners, the men set about +that task of destruction which their duty required. +The fermenters, huge tubs holding the mixture +of meal, malt and water making ready for the still, +received first attention. Since York had fallen before +these, the men rolled him roughly to one side, +without arousing him to any sign of consciousness. +Stone knew the man to be shamming, since there +had been no show of even incipient drunkenness +before the moment of the raid. He resolved to try +a test at least, for he was alert to the hindrance the +limp form would prove in the descent of the mountain. +He thrust the body forward with his foot, +close to one of the great “stands” of the mixture, +and bade an appreciative assistant apply the ax to +the slippery-elm hoops that bound the staves. As +the bands fell and the great volume of liquid gushed +forth, the raiders leaped aside from the flood. But +York never stirred. The down-rushing tide fell +fairly on him, engulfed him. He made no movement, +no outcry. Even Stone himself was led to a +half-remorseful wonder whether he had been deceived +concerning the fellow’s state. Then, after +a few seconds, the bald head rose, glistening from +the pool of the “beer.” The thin wisps of gray +hair hung in dank strings; the jungle of beard +seemed strangely thin; there was something curiously +unlike Ben York in the lineaments. The +marshal guessed that the metamorphosis was +wrought by the swirling mess, which had scrubbed +the weazened face almost clean for the first time +in the memory of living man. As the dilapidated +head emerged, it showed the grotesque caricature +of a Neptune, whose element was not the waters +of ocean, but the shattered hogsheads of “beer.” +Even now, however, Ben clung to his rôle. Once +his face was clear, he continued to sit placidly, +though the surface of the viscous pool was at his +neck. For better effect, he blinked vacuously, and +gurgled. Perhaps, memory of a bath in infancy +inspired him. He had had none since. He beat his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +scrawny hands in the “beer,” and cackled. It was +admirable art, but wasted.</p> +<p>The eight fermenters were broken and emptied, +the whiskey stores, both “singlin’s” and “doublin’s,” +were poured out on the ground, which drank them +as thirstily as did ever law-scorning “boomer.” +Then, the raiders turned to the chief spoils, kettle, +cap and worm. Stone and his men took the copper +worm from the cooling barrel, removed the cap, +drew the fire from the furnace, and finally pulled +down the kettle. In the varied excitement of the +night, the marshal had almost forgotten his second +great ambition, in the accomplishment of his first. +Almost, not quite. Now, the memory of it jumped +within him. He thrust the cap where the glow of +the fire would light it clearly, dropped to his knees, +and peered closely. His stern face relaxed abruptly +to joyousness.</p> +<p>“By the Lord, boys,” he shouted, “it’s the Bobbie +Burns’ still!”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, Stone wasted no time in exultation. +He merely ordered his men to carry the copper utensils +along, instead of destroying them on the spot. +Then, he addressed Ben York, who grinned idiotically +from toothless gums, where he crouched in the +diminishing puddle. The marshal’s voice rasped.</p> +<p>“You’re going with us, Ben. It’s for you to +say how. If we have to, we’ll carry you all the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +way. We’ll snake you down the mountains without +being too almighty careful of that rum-tanned +hide of yours, and then we’ll sling you across the +roughest-gaited horse we’ve got—face down across +the saddle and roped snug. That’s the way you’ll +do twenty-odd miles, Ben, if we have to tote you +down a single rod. Make up your mind—now! +It’ll be too late to change it, in a minute. You’re +plumb sober, and I know it. Get up, you old fox!”</p> +<p>And Ben York, shivering in his sticky, drenched +rags, recognized the inevitable, and scrambled to +his feet, snarling curses.</p> +<p>“Hit was thet-thar damned gal!” he mumbled +venomously. But none heard.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX' id='CHAPTER_IX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +</div> +<p>It is a far cry from the savagery of the illicit +mountain still to that consummate luxury of +civilization, an ocean-going steam yacht. Yet, +in actual space, the distance between these two extremes +was not great. <i>The Josephine</i>, all in snowy +white, save for the gleam of polished brass-work, +and flying the pennant of the New York Yacht Club, +glided forth from Norfolk Harbor in serene magnificence +on the same day that <i>The Bonita</i> chugged +fussily over the same course. The yacht was setting +out on the second stage of her leisurely pleasure +voyage to Bermuda. The skipper had been instructed +to follow the coast southward as far as +Frying Pan Shoals, for the sake of rounding Hatteras. +Afterward, since the weather grew menacing, +the craft continued down the coast to Cape Lookout, +where anchor was dropped in the Harbor of Refuge.</p> +<p>The island that lies there is a long, narrow, barren +strip of sand, dotted thickly with dunes. Only +a coarse marsh grass grows, with dwarfed pines and +cedars. In this bleak spot live and thrive droves of +wild ponies, of uncertain ancestry. It was these +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +creatures that just now held the attention of two persons +on the yacht.</p> +<p>Under the awning in the stern, two girls were +chatting as they dawdled over their morning chocolate. +The younger and prettier of these was Josephine +Blaise, the motherless daughter of the yacht-owner; +the other was Florence Marlow, her most +intimate friend.</p> +<p>“Dad told me I could have the runabout ashore,” +Josephine was saying, with a sudden access of animation. +“We’ll go along the beach, as long as the +going’s good, or till we scare up the ponies.”</p> +<p>“I do hope we’ll see them digging holes in the +sand, so as to get fresh water,” Florence exclaimed.</p> +<p>But Josephine was quick to dissent:</p> +<p>“They don’t dig for water,” she explained, with a +superior air. “They dig the holes in the beach +when the tides out, and then the tide comes in and +fills the holes, of course. When it ebbs, the ponies +go around and pick out the fish, and eat them.”</p> +<p>Florence stared disbelievingly.</p> +<p>“Oh, what a whopper!” she cried.</p> +<p>“Captain Hawks told me himself,” Josephine asserted, +with confidence. “He knows all about them—he’s +seen them wild on the island and tame on the +mainland.”</p> +<p>“Same ones, probably!” was the tart retort. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +thought the doctor lied ably, but he’s truth itself +compared with that hairy skipper of yours.”</p> +<p>Josephine tossed her head.</p> +<p>“We’ll run ’em down and observe their habits, +scientifically, and convince you.”</p> +<p>A glance shoreward showed the car awaiting +them. As they descended the ladder to the launch, +a yelp sounded from the deck, and a bull-terrier +came charging after. Florence regarded the dog +without any evidence of pleasure.</p> +<p>“Does the pest go, too?” she asked, resignedly.</p> +<p>Josephine pulled the terrier’s ears fondly, as it +cuddled close against her skirt.</p> +<p>“Chubbie deserves an outing after the bump he +got from that horrid man yesterday,” she said.</p> +<p>The girls exchanged glances, and laughed over +some secret joke. When, presently, they were seated +together in the runaabout, with Josephine at the +wheel, the bull-terrier squatted in dignity on the +small back seat. The level sand formed a perfect +roadway, and the car darted smoothly and swiftly +between the twin barren spaces of land and sea. +As they swept forward, the girls watched alertly +for a glimpse of the ponies among the dunes, +but there was nowhere any sign of a living thing, +save the few hurrying gulls. They had gone perhaps +twenty miles, and were beginning to fear disappointment, +when, without warning, a drove of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +the horses came galloping over the crest of a little +rise, a half-mile beyond. As the car ran forward, +along the ribbon of sand below the higher ground, +the ponies suddenly perceived it, and halted with +the precision of a troop of cavalry. Near at hand, +now, the girls could note details, and both observed +with interest the leader, which stood a little in advance +of his troop, at the end near the approaching +machine. He was a handsome creature, with lines +as suavely strong as an Arabian’s. He stood with +head held high, tail streaming, a fore-hoof pawing +challengingly at the sand. Only the thick, shaggy +bay coat showed the barbarian, rather than the thoroughbred. +The mares, a score of them in one +orderly rank behind him, were crowding and lashing +out nervously, as they watched the strange +monster racing so fast on the ocean’s edge. Some +of them nickered curiously. But the stallion rested +silent, until the automobile halted, hardly fifty yards +away. Then he tossed his head proudly, and blared +a great trumpet-note of defiance. Josephine instinctively +answered with the horn. The mechanical +cry broke harshly, swelled and wailed. The +eerie response terrified the mares; it perplexed and +alarmed their lord. But he showed no dismay. For +a moment still, he remained motionless. His noisy +challenge rang forth once again. Since the invader +on the sands below kept silence, nor made any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +movement toward attack, the leader seemed to feel +that his prestige was safe enough; that prudence +were now the better part. He sounded a low call, +and set off at a gallop along the ridge top. The +rank of mares pounded obediently at his heels.</p> +<p>“Oh, after them, Josie!” Florence cried.</p> +<p>In a moment, the car shot forward. The horn +clamored again. The fleeing horses looked back, +then leaped to new speed before the monster that +threatened them with unknown terrors. As the +car increased its pace, the ponies strove the harder. +Their strides lengthened, quickened. The stunted +marsh grass beat on the low bellies. Despite their +desperate striving, the runabout drew closer and +closer, reached abreast of them. The excitement of +the chase was in the sparkling eyes of the girls. +The dog, scrambling up and falling in its seat, +yelped madly. Here, the beach broadened to a +sharper ascent of the ridge. Josephine shifted the +wheel. The car swung in a wide curve and drove +straight toward the panic-stricken troop, as if it +would soar up to them. Fear took pride’s place in +the leader’s heart. He sounded a command. The +flying drove veered, vanished from the ridge top. +The muffled thudding of hoofs came faintly for a +minute against the sea wind. Then, as the car +came to a standstill, the girls listened, but heard no +sound. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></p> +<p>“It was bully fun!” Josephine said. “I’m sorry +it’s over.”</p> +<p>“After that run, they may be thirsty enough to +dig for water,” Florence suggested, with a laugh. +“Let’s climb up, and take a look round from the +ridge.”</p> +<p>But a glance from this point of advantage made it +clear that the peculiarities of the ponies in drinking +or fishing were not to be explained to-day. They +were visible still, to be sure, but a mile off, and the +rapidity with which the moving mass diminished to +the eye was proof that they were still in panic.</p> +<p>“We might as well get back to the yacht,” was +Josephine’s rueful comment. “There’s not another +single thing to see, now they’re gone.” She ran +her keen gaze over the dreary waste of the island +with a little shiver of distaste. Then her glance +roved the undulant expanse of sea. She uttered a +sharp ejaculation of surprise.</p> +<p>“There is something, after all,” she called out, +excitedly. “See—over there!”</p> +<p>Florence looked in the direction marked by the +pointing finger.</p> +<p>“It’s a canoe,” she hazarded, as her eyes fell on +the object that bobbed lightly in the surf, two hundred +yards from the shore. “I can see the man in +it. He’s lying down. Funny!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></p> +<p>But Josephine, wiser from much experience on +shipboard, now saw clearly, and the sight thrilled.</p> +<p>“It’s a life-raft,” she declared, with a tremor in +her voice; “and there’s a man on it. It’s a—real—castaway. +Come!”</p> +<p>With that, she set off running down the steep +slope of the ridge toward the sea. Behind her came +Florence, startled and alarmed. The dog barked +exultantly once, then leaped ahead, only to return +and circle the slower playfellows joyfully. They +came to the water’s edge, and halted, perforce. +Josephine saw the raft, as it rode on a breaking +wave. It was perceptibly nearer. She dared hope +it might be brought within reach. With deft motions, +the flannel skirt was tucked within her belt, +leaving her legs free. Florence, somewhat reluctantly, +made the like adjustment. The bull-terrier, +disheartened by this immobility, sat on its haunches, +and regarded the two doubtfully, perhaps prudishly +disapproving. From time to time the raft showed +for a few seconds; only to vanish again behind the +screen of spume. But it advanced shoreward, +steadily. The body of the man was distinct—prone, +motionless. The girls watched and waited in palpitant +eagerness. The dog, sensing the tension of the +moment, began to hasten to and fro, snuffing and +whining. Suddenly, the two cried out in the same +moment. They saw the raft floating fast and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +smoothly toward them on the crest of a breaker. +They dashed forward, knee-deep, to meet the charge. +The huge mass of the wave pounded upon them, almost +swept them from their feet. The angry waters +boiled about them. It was up to their waists now. +The flying spray lashed their faces and blinded +them. When, at last, their vision cleared, the raft +had vanished. They caught sight of it again, presently. +It was floating from them, already fifty yards +distant.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the girls, though discouraged, did +not give over their hope of rescue. Not even when +another wave thrust the raft fairly upon them, so +that their hands clutched the tubes, then tore it ruthlessly +from their puny grasp, and flung it afar. The +dog, accustomed to sporting in the surf with its +mistress, rushed to seize this flotsam, but the powerful +jaws could find no hold. As the dog approached, +swimming, Josephine put her hand to its collar, and +so supported it while they waited anxiously for the +raft’s return.</p> +<p>It came more quickly than before. It was, indeed, +as if fate finally relented, for the raft was borne +this time on a smaller wave, almost with gentleness, +as it seemed. Yet, the gentleness of appearance was +only mockery. When the two girls laid hands on +it with all their strength it swerved violently, +wrested itself from their clutch. Josephine cried out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +in despair. She saw the dog, released by her effort, +plunging forward. A rope dragged in the raft’s +wake, a remnant of the lashings. The dog lunged +viciously, and its jaws locked on the rope. Immediately, +then, the bull-terrier began swimming toward +the shore. There was no progress. But the going +of the raft was momentarily stayed. Josephine saw +the opportunity and shrieked to Florence. The two +sprang, and caught the raft again. It rested passively +in the grasp of the three. The dog continued +swimming, its face set resolutely shoreward. The +girls, up to their breasts in water, stepped forward, +tugging lustily. The three advanced slowly. The +raft moved with them.</p> +<p>It was a struggle that taxed the strength of each +to the uttermost. Those three puny creatures fighting +against the might of the ocean for the body of a +dead man! Dead the man seemed, at least, to the +girls, who, after one glance into the drawn and +ghastly face of their burden, dared not look again. +The undertow writhed about their legs, jerked at +them wrathfully. Waves crashed upon them with +shattering force. Once, Florence was hurled from +her footing, but her hands held their grip on the +raft. The wrenching shock was sustained by Josephine +and the dog. They gave a little, but with fierce, +stubborn resistance. Florence regained her feet. +The rout was stayed. The pitiful combat between +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +pigmies and Titans was on again. There was good +blood in the three. A fighting ancestry had dowered +them with the courage that does not know defeat +when it is met. Their strength was exhausted. +Yet, they battled on. A great comber smashed +against them. It snatched the raft from the weakened +hold of the girls, threw it far up on the sand. +The dog shot in a wide arc through the air. They +could hear its grunt as it fell. But the jaws were +still locked. In the same instant, the beast was +firmly set, hauling at the rope. The raft was held +for a little by the dog alone, against the waters as +they sucked back. Then, the girls tottered to aid. +They fell to their knees in the shallows, and clung +frantically. The waves hissed away from them.</p> +<p>They feared the coming of a larger breaker to +undo their work. Josephine perceived to her astonishment +that the man was not fastened to the raft, +except by the vise-like gripping of his big hands. +And, too, she saw now that he was living. She +guessed that he was stupefied by exhaustion, yet +not swooning. She shrieked to him to unclench his +fingers. It may be that his dulled brain understood +in a measure; it may be that he was come to the +very end of his strength. Anyhow, as she put her +fingers to his, there was no resistance. The grasp +that had withstood the sea’s fury, yielded at once +to the soft pressure of her touch. The two girls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +summoned new energy to the task. The dog let go +the rope, and, whining curiously, caught a trouser +leg between its teeth, and aided. Somehow, the +three contrived to roll and push and pull the inert +form to a point of safety. Then, they sank down, +panting.</p> +<p>Josephine stirred first. With a gasping sigh, she +struggled to a sitting position. The dog at once +stood up, and shook itself with great violence. The +drops splashed over the face of Florence, and she, +in turn, opened her eyes, groaned deeply, and sat +up, with a wry smile of discomfort.</p> +<p>“What’ll we do with the corpse?” she inquired, +in an undertaker’s best manner.</p> +<p>The funereal suggestion, so sincerely offered, provoked +Josephine to a weak peal of laughter.</p> +<p>“Better wait to worry over that till he’s dead,” +she answered briskly, if somewhat incoherently. +“And he will be, if we don’t watch out. There +should be a flask in the motor. Run and get it, Flo. +I’ll chafe his hands.”</p> +<p>“Run!” the other exclaimed. “If I can crawl it, +I’ll be proud.” Nevertheless, she got to her feet, +stiffly, but readily enough. “And sprinkle water +on his face,” she called over her shoulder. “It +might cheer him anyhow, after having had it all +over him by the ton.” Both girls in the first reaction +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +from the stress of their war against death were +brimming with joyousness, notwithstanding fatigue.</p> +<p>While Josephine rubbed the rough hands as +strongly as she could between her own tender ones, +the dog drew near. When the girl looked up, she +saw that her pet was licking the man’s face. She +called out in sharp rebuke. At the same moment, +the castaway’s eyes unclosed. For long seconds, he +stared, unblinking. Then, abruptly, his voice +sounded in a low drawl of wonder:</p> +<p>“Hit’s thet-thar damned man-faced dawg!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X' id='CHAPTER_X'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +</div> +<p>The castaway’s gaze went to the girl kneeling +beside him.</p> +<p>“An’ the furrin woman!” he muttered.</p> +<p>Florence came running with the flask, which was +full of brandy.</p> +<p>“Quick!” Josephine urged. “He’s better, but he’s +raving crazy. Thinks I’m a foreigner.”</p> +<p>But, as Florence could have filled the cup of the +flask, Zeke interposed, with more animation than +he had hitherto shown.</p> +<p>“If so be that’s likker, an’ ye ’lows to give hit +to me, if hit don’t make no p’tic’lar diff’rence to +you-all, I’d like to drink hit right smack outen thet-thar +new-fangled bottle, jest as we be a-used to +doin’ in the State o’ Wilkes.”</p> +<p>“As you wish, of course,” Florence replied, soothingly. +“It will make a new man of you.”</p> +<p>Zeke promptly sat up and put his lips to the +mouth of the flask, and held them there while the +rhythmic movement of his adam’s apple visibly +witnessed thirstiness. The girls regarded him with +astonishment, which quickly merged in dismay, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +they could not guess the boomer’s capacity for +fiery drink. As a matter of fact, Zeke, while he +drank, lamented the insipidity of the draught, and +sighed for a swig of moonshine to rout the chill +in his veins with its fluid flames. He, in turn, +was presently to learn, with astonishment, that a +beverage so mild to the taste had all the potency +of his mountain dram, and more. Chilled as he +had been by the long hours of exposure to the +night air of the sea, while drifting the fifteen miles +from Ocracoke Inlet, and worn in body and mind +by the peril of his situation, Zeke found himself almost +at once strengthened and cheered by the generous +spirit. He was, in fact, another man than the +exhausted castaway, as the girl had promised; he +was himself again. He was still weak and shaken; +but his splendid vitality was asserting itself. The +gray, drawn face was colored to golden tan; the +clear eyes were shining with new appreciation of the +joy of life. He had not thought much after the +very first, during those long, racking hours of tossing +on the sea. His brain had become numb. His +fancies had run to tender memories of moments +spent with Plutina. Often, he had felt her presence +there with him, in the dark spaces of the sea. +But the idea that most dominated his mind had +sprung from the lusty instinct of self-preservation; +he must cling to the raft. It had been the one thing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +that he could do toward safety. His whole will +had centered in the clutch of his hands on the +tubes.</p> +<p>Seeing the man thus recovered, the girls withdrew +toward the runabout to adjust their clothing, and +to find some garment for the man, since he wore +only shirt and trousers. But the bull-terrier, for a +wonder, did not follow its mistress. Instead, it +sat on its haunches close to the mountaineer, and +muzzled his hand. Zeke pulled the dog’s ears gently.</p> +<p>“That thump I gin ye must ’a’ struck plumb +down to yer heart, an’ made a right-smart change +in yer affections. Ye wa’n’t so dummed friendly +when ye tuck thet-thar hunk out o’ my pants.”</p> +<p>The dog whined an answer, and crept fawningly +into the mountaineer’s lap, where it nestled contentedly. +It was thus that the girls, returning with +a rain-coat, found the two, and they stared in surprise, +for the bull-terrier was none too amiable with +strangers.</p> +<p>“I never knew Chubbie make friends like that +before,” Josephine exclaimed. She looked in fresh +curiosity upon the wholesome face with the regular +features, rather stern in repose, but now softened +by a smile. “It must be because he helped us pull +you out. We couldn’t have done it without him. +That makes you belong to him, in a way.”</p> +<p>Zeke stared at the dog, with new respect. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></p> +<p>“The darned son of a gun!” he ejaculated, +gravely. “I reckon,” he continued after a meditative +pause, “the little cuss felt like he owed me +somethin’ fer sp’ilin’ my jeans. That crack I gin +him put the fear o’ God into his bosom, so to speak. +‘The more ye beat ’em, the better they be.’”</p> +<p>Josephine started at his words. Without a hat, +the dark curls had given a look so different to the +face that, until now, she had not recognized the man +of the ferry-boat.</p> +<p>“Why,” she cried, “you are the one!” She turned +to the bewildered Florence. Her blue eyes were +flashing; her voice was hard. “He’s the creature +that almost killed Chubbie. And to think we +troubled to save him!”</p> +<p>“That hell-fired pup o’ your’n took a holt on me +first,” Zeke protested wrathfully, forgetful of his +reconciliation with the dog. Then, a plaintive whine +recalled him. He smiled whimsically, as he patted +the bull-terrier’s head, which was lifted toward him +fondly. The anger died out of his face, and he +smiled. “I’ve hearn these-hyar dumb critters git +things ’bout right by instinct, somehow. Yer +dawg’s done fergive me. Won’t you-all, mum?”</p> +<p>Josephine hesitated. The ingenuous appeal +touched her. Only pride held her from yielding.</p> +<p>“An’, besides,” Zeke went on, “ye was a-sayin’ +as how the dawg kind o’ felt I belonged to him like, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +bein’ he he’ped pull me out o’ the ocean, an’ so he +had to like me. Thet-thar argyment goes fer you-all, +too, mum. So, I ’low ye gotter fergive me—specially +kase yer dawg begun hit.”</p> +<p>Josephine relaxed with a ripple of laughter. The +mountaineer both interested and pleased her. To +her inevitable interest in one whom she had helped +to save from death, there was now added a personal +attraction. She perceived, with astonishment, that +this was by no means the hulking brute she had +deemed him when her pet had suffered at his hands. +The dog’s attitude toward him impressed her +deeply. Moreover, she saw that he was intelligent, +as well as naïve. She perceived that he had humor +and quickness of feeling. His responsiveness to +the dog’s advances pleased her. She was greedy of +experience and knowledge, easily bored by familiar +things, likely to be vastly interested, for a brief +season, in the new and strange. She realized that +here, ready to her hand, was a type wholly novel. +She felt that it was her prerogative to understand +something of the nature of this singular being thus +cast at her feet by fate. Certainly, it would be absurd +to cherish any rancor. As he had said, the +dog’s action sufficed. Besides, she must be friendly +if she would learn concerning this personality. +Every reason justified inclination. She rebelled no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +longer. Her blue eyes gleamed with genuine kindliness, +as she spoke:</p> +<p>“I’ll take Chubbie’s word for it.” Her voice became +authoritative. “Now, if you feel equal to +standing up, we’ll have this rain-coat on you, and +then run you down to the yacht. We’ll attend to +landing you somewhere after you’ve rested and had +something to eat.”</p> +<p>Already Josephine’s brain was busy, scheming to +her own ends, but of this she gave no hint.</p> +<p>Zeke pushed away the reluctant dog, and rose +up stiffly. The stimulation of the brandy stood him +in good stead.</p> +<p>“I ’low I’m havin’ a right-smart lot of experience,” +he remarked, chuckling. “What with steam-cars, +an’ boats, an’ wrecks, an’ now one o’ them +ornery devil-wagons. I hain’t a-feared none,” he +added, musingly, “but I hain’t a-pinin’ neither. I +reckon I kin stand anythin’ what gals an’ a dog kin. +I’m plumb nervous or hungry—I don’t know which. +Both, like’s not!”</p> +<p>He rejected the offer of support, and walked firmly +enough to the machine, which he eyed distrustfully. +Florence took the rear seat, and Zeke established +himself beside Josephine, the dog between his feet. +After the first few minutes, he found himself delighting +in this smooth, silent rush over the white +sands. In answer to Josephine’s question, he gave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +a bare outline of his adventures in the three days of +his absence from the mountains.</p> +<p>“I was a-hankerin’ arter experience,” he concluded, +“an’ aimin’ to make my everlastin’ fortin. +I been doin’ pretty peart, so fer.”</p> +<p>“You’ve certainly had more than your share of +experience in the time,” Josephine agreed; “though +I don’t know about the fortune.”</p> +<p>“Started right-smack off at the rate of more’n +seventy-five thousand dollars a year,” Zeke rejoined, +complacently. He laughed joyously at the +bewildered face the girl turned to him.</p> +<p>“I done figured hit out las’ night, not havin’ +much of anythin’ to do on thet-thar raft, ’cept to +stick.” He gave an account of the capture of the +negro outlaw, for which he had received a reward. +“I’m only a-jokin’, of course,” he went on with +new seriousness. “I hain’t pinin’ fer no foolishness. +All I want is enough so’s not to be hog-pore. An’ +I got a chance to learn somethin’, an’ to make somethin’, +an’, arter all, go right on livin’ in my own +country. An’ that’s what Plutiny wants, too. An’ +I’ll have enough to buy her straighteners, if she +wants ’em, by cracky!”</p> +<p>“Oh—straighteners?” Josephine repeated, mystified. +Vague memories of a visit to a hospital suggested +an explanation. “Then, this person you +speak of, Plutina, is deformed?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p> +<p>“Deformed!” For an instant, Zeke could only +repeat the word, helplessly.</p> +<p>“A curvature of the spine, I suppose,” Josephine +continued, without interest. She had her eyes on the +ribbon of sand now, and guessed nothing as to her +companion’s disturbance, until his voice came in a +burst of protest that made her jump.</p> +<p>“Plutiny—deformed!” he exclaimed, harshly. +Then, his voice softened wonderfully, though it +shook with the tensity of his feeling. “Why, Plutiny’s +better’n anybody else in all the world—she is, +an’ she looks hit. Plutiny—deformed! Why, my +Plutiny’s straight as thet-thar young pine tree atop +Bull Head Mounting. An’ she’s as easy an’ graceful +to bend an’ move as the alders along Thunder +Branch. There hain’t nary other woman in all the +world to ekal my Plutiny. Plutiny—deformed! +Why, mum, you-all talk plumb foolish.”</p> +<p>The girl was too astonished before this outburst +to take offense.</p> +<p>“But you spoke about straighteners for her,” she +protested.</p> +<p>Zeke stared for a moment, then grinned understandingly.</p> +<p>“Thet’s what we-uns call ’em,” he said. “You-all +call ’em corsets.”</p> +<p>Yet, the effect of this conversation reached beyond +the humorous. In some subtle fashion, it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +provoked the girl to keener interest in the young +man. She was perhaps, though she would have denied +the suggestion hotly, a little piqued by the exaltation +with which he praised his rustic sweetheart. +Josephine was an exceedingly attractive young +woman, and she was accustomed to having men +show their appreciation of the fact. It was new to +her thus essentially to be ignored, and not quite +agreeable. There could be no tender interest between +herself and this handsome barbarian. The +idea even of flirtation was quite inconceivable. +Nevertheless, it was strange that he should be so +imperceptive of her charms. Doubtless, his eyes +were blind to the refinements of beauty. They +should be opened. It would be dreadful if the fellow +should grow away from the girl who was waiting +for him. And yet—Josephine checked her +thoughts, and blushed a little. But a plan matured.</p> +<p>That plan was followed diplomatically when she +secured a private interview with her father, after +the return on board the yacht.</p> +<p>“Daddy, dear,” she said, with a manner as casual +as she could contrive, “let’s keep this Mister Higgins +on board. He’s bound for New York, but in +no particular hurry. We’ll get him there in about +ten days.”</p> +<p>Mr. Blaise, who was a plethoric, fussy little +man, adamant to all the world save his only child, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +regarded her now in perplexity, his shrewd eyes a +bit mischievous.</p> +<p>“I don’t imagine it’s to be the stereotyped romance, +just because you dragged him out of the sea,” he +said. “The chap has the makings of considerable of +a man in him, and he’s good-looking enough to catch +a girl’s fancy; but he’s not your sort. So, why?”</p> +<p>“Besides,” Josephine retorted, smiling, “Florence +has the same right in him as treasure trove. +That would make the romance too complicated.”</p> +<p>“Why?” Mr. Blaise repeated.</p> +<p>“I’ve never met anyone like him,” the girl explained, +with truth, if not all the truth. “He’s +unique. I want to study him. Such knowledge is +broadening—better than books.”</p> +<p>“Bosh!” was the comment. “You mean, he’s just +a freak to you, and you’d like to look him over a +little longer. There’s no harm in that, if it amuses +you. But don’t be silly about broadening yourself.” +He regarded his daughter critically. “And leave +out the deserts. They’re too broadening, if you like. +You’re getting plump.”</p> +<p>Josephine accepted this meekly, in her satisfaction +over having her way as to the new guest.</p> +<p>“I’ll go and invite him, right away,” she exclaimed. +“He’ll liven us up.”</p> +<p>But her father wrinkled his brows in doubt.</p> +<p>“What about the effect on the young fellow, himself?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +he demanded. “It can’t do him any good, +Josie. That sort of thing’s unsettling, you know.”</p> +<p>Josephine attempted no reply, as she went on her +way. Her father could not see the flush that touched +her cheeks.</p> +<p>Through such devious ways did it come to pass +that the mountaineer entered a world of which he +had never even dreamed. His own complete ignorance +of social conditions prevented him from +appreciating the marvel wrought by fate in his behalf. +In the simplicity of his character, he accepted +the change as a perfectly natural event in the world +that he had set out to explore. It was this simplicity, +which kept him from undue self-consciousness, +that carried him safely through what must otherwise +have been an ordeal. He accepted what had +befallen thankfully, and sought to learn what he +best might from the novel environment. His interest +was conspicuously in others, not in himself. He +was greedy of information, lavish in liking. By a +benign miracle, there were no snobs in the yachting +party, which included also two young men, and +two of the owner’s age, besides Josephine’s aunt. +This chaperon was a motherly soul, and, in sheer +kindliness of heart did much to make the situation +easy. The informality of the party, too, was a +tremendous advantage to the young man, though +he never guessed it. On the contrary, he accepted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +things as they were enthusiastically, with never a +thought of dismay. In flannels loaned him by the +largest guest, which fitted too snugly, he presented +an appearance so excellent that Mr. Blaise was +moved to pinch his daughter’s ear, while reminding +her of the stereotyped romance.</p> +<p>Such was the cause of Plutina’s wearisome waiting +for the letter that did not come. Zeke found, to +his distress, too late that an interval of a week or +more must elapse before a letter posted in Bermuda +could possibly reach the mountains. But, beyond +that, there was nothing to disturb the girl who loved +him. The heart of the lad amid the luxuries of life +on the yacht was unchanged in its devotion. It was, +indeed, as if he saw all things as a frame for her. +He was forever thinking how Plutina would look +here or there, in connection with this or the other. +The gowns of the three women, were viewed critically +in relation to the mountain girl. He would +imagine her loveliness enhanced by the sheen of silk, +by the films of lace, by the lusters of jewels. Josephine +thought once when she appeared in a dainty +evening frock, not too daring, that she had penetrated +his armor of aloofness, for he blushed hotly +as his eyes went to her neck, and his gaze fell. She +was deceived. He remembered in that moment, +how he had once kissed the soft whiteness of Plutina’s +throat, where the homespun gown lay open. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +Now, memory of the warm bliss of that kiss sent +the blood racing and tingling.</p> +<p>That self-deception was as near as Josephine ever +came to triumph.</p> +<p>Florence understood, to some extent, at least, the +mood that influenced her friend. A feminine intuition +inspired in her a like ambition to pierce this +young savage’s reserve. Through her own feeling, +she readily divined that of Josephine. Thus, the two +became unconfessed allies in the employment of +their wiles against an unsuspecting victim. It was, +indeed, the lack of suspicion on his part that irritated +them to the point of exasperation. He was so +utterly innocent of their manoeuvers against his +peace! Both of the girls were attractive beyond the +average. Josephine, a plump blonde, ingenuous of +manner, sophisticated, capricious, yet not spoiled, +egotistic, but winsome, full of electric vitality; +Florence, taller and darker, with an air more sedate, +yet doubtless capable of deeper and more enduring +emotions. Each possessed excellent features, and +the fascinations of radiant health, sufficient culture, +and the most exquisite refinements of personal detail. +They deserved the humble admiration of any +man. They expected tender adulation from most, +and from most they received it. At the outset a +certain impassivity on the part of this wild mountaineer +excited their astonishment, then, quickly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +their dissatisfaction. They were moved to a caprice +against his calm, against this indifference that was +an affront. They had no wish to work him serious +harm, but his disregard was intolerable. Since +the heart of neither was engaged, there was no +jealousy between them in the affair. Since each was +secretly ashamed of her motives, there was no confidence +between them.</p> +<p>Their failure, in the lazy days and evenings of +voyaging and of rambling in the Bermudan islands, +was undeniable. It was the more aggravating since +the young man patently admired them. Even, his +admiration was excessive, almost reverential, at +times. Yet, it was altogether impersonal. They +came eventually to know that this mountaineer regarded +them with warm friendliness, with a lively +gratitude, with a devoted respect, with a certain +veneration. But that was all. No dart from their +quiver of charms touched to the passionate heart of +him—nor ever could. From whichever side the +shafts were thrown, always they were shattered +against a white shield, and fell harmless. That +shield was Plutina.</p> +<p>One night, as the yacht neared New York, Josephine +and Zeke sat together, watching the scud of +clouds across the moon. The mountaineer spoke +softly, after an interval of silence. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p> +<p>“The clouds is runnin’ thar jest as I’ve seen ’em +lookin’ out across the valley from Stone Mounting—with +Plutiny.” There was a caress in his +voice.</p> +<p>Josephine checked an ejaculation of impatience. +The savage was incorrigible—quite! Him, and +his everlasting Plutina! Perverse curiosity overcame +discretion. Perhaps, too, after all, he only +needed guidance. She tried to believe, though +vainly, that only shyness prevented him from improving +an opportunity any other man would have +coveted.</p> +<p>“Tell me,” she said softly, with a sympathetic +lure in her tones, “is Plutina so very beautiful?”</p> +<p>The lure was effective. Zeke turned to her with +the hazel eyes darkly luminous in the moonlight.</p> +<p>“Tiny’s beautiful,” he answered tenderly; and +there was music now in the slow drawl. “I ’low +she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid you’re prejudiced,” Josephine objected, +with a disarming laugh. “Of course, you +ought to think so, but, really you know, you +haven’t quite seen all the beautiful women in the +world. Now, have you?”</p> +<p>“All I need to,” was the confident assurance. +“Why,” he continued with an apologetic smile for +his boldness. “I done seen you-all, Miss Blaise, an’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +I reckon you-all are about as beautiful as a woman +kin be—’ceptin’ Plutina.”</p> +<p>The tribute was potent from its very unexpectedness. +It eased the chagrin from which vanity had +suffered. Evidently, her charms were not disregarded. +It was simply that this lover had given his +heart, and that he was loyal. The girl sighed a +little enviously at the realization. She knew too +well that many, perhaps most, in her world were not +loyal, even when their hearts were given. She +wondered if, in truth, there awaited her the boon +of a like faithfulness. Yet she persevered in her +probing.</p> +<p>“Out in the world,” she said musingly, “where +things are so different from up in your mountains, +you may change. It may be you won’t want to go +back, to the hills—to Plutina.”</p> +<p>A flush of wrath burned in Zeke’s cheeks, visible +in the gloom.</p> +<p>“Hit ain’t fittin’ fer you-all to say no such thing, +Miss Blaise. But I kin fergive ye, kase ye hain’t +seen our mountings. They hain’t no other place +more beautiful. Mister Sutton done told me so, +an’ he’s been all over the hull world. An’, besides, +hit’s home. A man what don’t love his home country +better’n any other—why, mum, he’s jest a plain +skunk.... An’ Plutiny, she’s the best part o’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +home. There hain’t no land so beautiful, nor no +woman. No, mum, I sha’n’t change—never! I +kain’t!”</p> +<p>And Josephine knew that it was so, and once +again she sighed.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI' id='CHAPTER_XI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +</div> +<p>Uncle Dick, as he was universally +known in the mountains, had celebrated +his eightieth birthday before his granddaughters, +Plutina and Alvira, by leaping high in +the air, and knocking his heels together three times +before returning to the ground. There was, in fact, +no evidence of decrepitude anywhere about him. +The thatch of coal-black hair was only moderately +streaked with gray, and it streamed in profuse +ringlets to his shoulders. His black eyes were still +keen; the leathery face, with its imperious features, +was ruddy. He carried his six-foot-three of bone +and muscle lightly.</p> +<p>As of the body, so of the heart. The springs of +feeling in him showed no signs of drying up. On the +contrary, they threatened to gush forth in a new +flood over the Widow Brown, on whose plump +prettiness, hardly dimmed by her three-score years, +he looked with appreciative and ardent eyes. Indeed, +his conduct justified the womenfolk of his +household in apprehensions, for witness to the seriousness +of the affair was afforded the morning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +after the raid on Dan Hodges’ still. He demanded +of Alvira that she burn the grease from an old +skillet with great care.</p> +<p>“If they’s a mite of hit, hit makes a scum, an’ +floats off the gold on hit,” he explained.</p> +<p>The sisters regarded each other in consternation, +but forebore questioning. When he had mounted +his mare, and ridden away, Plutina spoke with bitterness:</p> +<p>“I reckon Mis’ Higgins done hit the nail on the +haid ’bout Gran’pap an’ the Widder Brown.”</p> +<p>Alvira nodded.</p> +<p>“Yep. Hit means business, shore, if he’s a-gallavantin’ +over to Pleasant Valley to pan gold. Hit +means he’s aimin’ to marry her.” She waxed scornful, +with the intolerance of her sixteen years. “Hit’s +plumb ridic’lous—at his age.”</p> +<p>“Seems like he was ’most ole enough to git sense,” +Plutina agreed.</p> +<p>“Mebby we’re mistook ’bout his intentions,” Alvira +suggested, hopefully. “O’ course, he git’s a heap +of enjoyment settin’ to Widder Brown. But he hain’t +got to be plumb foolish, an’ marry her. I guess as +how hit’s fer you-all he’s arter the gold kase Zeke’ll +be comin’ home by-’n’-bye.”</p> +<p>Plutina shook her head dubiously. It was the +custom of the lover himself to seek, in the gold-bearing +sands of the tiny mountain stream to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +west, for the grains from which to fashion a ring for +his sweetheart. Many a wife of the neighborhood +wore such proudly on forefinger or thumb. The old +man was not fond enough of toil to undertake the +slow washing out of gold there unless for a selfish +sentimental reason. And her fears were confirmed +that afternoon by Zeke’s mother whom she visited.</p> +<p>“They hain’t nary chance to save him no more,” +the old woman averred, lugubriously. “Hit’s allus +been said hyarbouts as how a feller allus gits his +gal shore, if he pans her a ring in Pleasant Valley.”</p> +<p>“Huh—girl!” quoth Plutina.</p> +<p>Yet this amorous affair was of small moment just +now to the granddaughter, though she voluntarily +occupied her thoughts with it. She hoped thus to +keep in the background of her mind the many fears +that threatened peace, by reason of her part in the +night’s work. She knew that she could trust the +secrecy of Marshal Stone, but there was the possibility +of discovery in some manner unforeseen. +There was even the chance that suspicion against +her had been aroused in Ben York. She could not +bear to contemplate what must follow should her +betrayal of the still become known. It was a relief +to be certain that the two men she chiefly dreaded +would be in jail, and unable personally to wreak +vengeance. It was improbable, she thought, that +persons so notorious and so detested could secure +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +bail. But, even with them out of the way, the case +would be disastrous on account of her grandfather’s +hatred of the revenue officers, and more especially, +of those among his own people guilty of the baseness +of informing. Should her deed come to his +knowledge, it would mean tragedy. She dreaded +the hour when he should hear of the raid, and was +glad that he had gone away, for in all likelihood he +would have the news before his return and the first +shock of it would have passed.... So it fell out.</p> +<p>Uncle Dick rode briskly toward the little stream +that tumbles down the mountain west of Air Bellows +Gap, where long ago men washed for gold in +feverish desire of wealth. Now, none sought a +fortune in the branch grit, where a day’s labor at +best could yield no more than a dollar or two in +gold. Only devoted swains, like himself, hied them +there to win wherewithal for a bauble with which to +speed their wooing. Uncle Dick chose a favorable +spot, and washed steadily until the blackened old +copper skillet itself shone like the flecks of gold he +sought. When he ceased he had a generous pinch +of the precious dust carefully disposed in a vial. +He hid the skillet to serve another day, and set out +on his return. Before he crossed Garden Greek, a +neighbor, whom he met on the trail, told him of the +raid. Eager for all particulars, Uncle Dick turned +his mount into the high road, and hurried to Joines’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +store. The single-footing mare carried him quickly +to this place of assembly for neighborhood gossip, +where he found more than the usual number +gathered, drawn by excitement over the raid. The +company was in a mixed mood, in which traditional +enmity against the “revenuers” warred against personal +rejoicing over the fate fallen on Dan Hodges, +whom they hated and feared. From the garrulous +circle of his acquaintance, Uncle Dick speedily +learned the history of the night. The account was +interrupted by the coming of a clerk to the store +door. He waved his hand toward the group on the +steps to command attention.</p> +<p>“You, Uncle Dick!” he called. “No’th Wilkesboro’ +wants ye on the telephone.”</p> +<p>Wondering mightily at the unexpected summons, +the old man hurried to the instrument.</p> +<p>“Hello! Hello!” he roared, in a voice to be +heard across the miles.</p> +<p>“Be that you-all, Uncle Dick?” the question came +thinly.</p> +<p>“Yep. Who be you?”</p> +<p>“Hit’s Dan Hodges. I reckon you-all done hearn +’bout last night.”</p> +<p>“Yep. I shore have hearn a heap,” Uncle Dick +acquiesced, sourly. “I tole ye to quit, the officers +air gittin’ so a’mightly peart. They hain’t no more +chance fer a good set o’ men to make a run—to say +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +nothin’ of a wuthless gang like your’n.... What +ye want o’ me?”</p> +<p>The reply was explicit enough.</p> +<p>“The hearin’ ’s to-morrer ’fore the United States +Commissioner. Marshal Stone says the bail’ll be +two thousand dollars, cash or land. They hain’t +nobody kin put hit up, ’cept you-all, Uncle Dick. +An’, if ye don’t, Ben an’ me’ll have to lay in jail +till Fall. If ye’ll he’p me, Uncle Dick, ye know +Dan Hodges won’t never fail ye.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I’m afeared on,” Uncle Dick retorted, +glumly. “I ’most know ’twas you-all an’ yer +gang kilt thet-thar heifer o’ mine in cold blood. +Now, the ole man ye’ve treated dirt is yer las’ +chance. Wall, cuss ye! I’ll come down t’-morrer +an’ bail ye out—not kase I love ye any, but kase I’m +again the revenuers. An’ listen ’ere! I’m some old, +but I’m some spry yit, ye bet! You-all stop round +these parts whar I kin keep an eye on ye till Fall +Cote. If ye don’t, damn ye!—wall, my ole rifle’s +bright an’ ’iled, an’ I’ll git ye! Jest remember thet, +Dan Hodges: I’ll git ye!” And with this grim +warning, Uncle Dick slammed the receiver on its +hook, and stalked out of the store.</p> +<p>On the following day, he journeyed duly to North +Wilkesboro’, where, despite the protest of his lawyer, +he put up his land as security for the appearance +of the two malefactors. Uncle Dick was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +consistent conservative. Had the accident of birth +made him an English squire, he would have been +a stanch Tory, would have held the King’s commission +on the bench of justices, and would have administered +the penalties of the law with exceeding +severity against poachers. Having been born in the +Blue Ridge Mountains, he staked his property in +behalf of two scoundrels, for the sake of an inherited +feud against the Federal authority.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, his personal distrust of the men +he had thus relieved was made manifest when, immediately +after the commitment of the two before +the Commissioner, he betook himself to a hardware +store, where he bought a forty-one caliber Colt’s +revolver, with a holster and a box of cartridges. +He had given up the habitual carrying of weapons +on his seventy-fifth birthday, as unseemly and unnecessary +for one of his patriarchal years. Now, he +reverted to the use as a measure of prudence.</p> +<p>“The damned dawg’s done me dirt, an’ he hain’t +above doin’ hit ag’in,” he muttered, as he strapped +the holster beneath his left arm.</p> +<p>To his womankind, Uncle Dick spoke of the +affair casually, concealing his apprehensions. +Neither of the granddaughters ventured remonstrance, +though Alvira’s pretty face was mutinous, +and Plutina felt a sickening sense of calamity rushing +upon her. It seemed to her the irony of fate that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +her own relation should thus interfere to render +abortive the effect she had risked so much to secure. +She realized, with a shrinking misery, that the sufferers +from her act were now at liberty to inflict +vengeance upon her, should suspicion be born in +them. For the first time in her life, Plutina experienced +a feminine cowardice, bewailing her helplessness. +There was none to whom she might turn +for counsel; none, even, in whom she might confide. +It was no mere chimera of fear that beset her. She +was far too sensible and too strong for hysterical +imaginings. But she knew that her peril was real +and grave. In the face of it, she felt suddenly a +new longing for the absent lover. Hitherto, her +fondness had been tender and passionate, touched +with the maternal protectiveness that is instinctive +in every woman. Now, a new desire of him leaped +in her. She yearned for rest on his bosom, secure +within the shelter of his arms, there to pour forth +all the story of her trouble, there to hear his voice +of consolation, there to be at peace. She touched +the fairy crystal that lay between her breasts, and +she smiled, very sadly, and very wistfully.</p> +<p>“Zeke will shorely come,” she whispered, “if I +need him—bad enough.”</p> +<p>There was a tremor in her voice, but it was not of +doubt.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII' id='CHAPTER_XII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +</div> +<p>Early in the morning following his trip to +North Wilkesboro’ Uncle Dick Siddon rode +off to Pleasant Valley, there to prosecute his +sentimental labors for the pleasuring of the Widow +Brown. Alvira fared abroad on some errand to a +neighboring cabin. Plutina, her usual richness of +coloring dimmed by a troubled night, was left +alone. In the mid-forenoon she was sitting on the +porch, busy over a pan of beans, which she was +stringing for dinner. As she chanced to raise her +eyes, she saw Dan Hodges coming up the path. At +sight of the evil lowering face, repulsion flared hot +in the girl. The instinct of flight was strong, but +her good sense forbade it. She felt a stirring of +unfamiliar terror in the presence of the man. She +scorned herself for the weakness, but it persisted. +Her very fear dictated the counsels of prudence. She +believed that in dissimulation lay her only possibility +of safety. The thought of any intercourse with +the moonshiner was unspeakably repugnant, yet she +dared not risk needless offense. Nevertheless, the +first effect of her resolve was a self-contempt that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +moved her to wrath, and made her opening speech +more venomous even than it had been otherwise.</p> +<p>“Howdy, my little honey?” Hodges called out as +he shambled to a halt before her. His coarse features +writhed in a simper that intensified their ugliness. +His coveting of this woman was suddenly +magnified by sight of her loveliness, flawless in the +brilliant light. The blood-shot eyes darted luxuriously +over the curving graces beneath the scant +homespun garment.</p> +<p>The girl sensed the insult of the man’s regard. It, +rather than the insolent familiarity of address, provoked +her outburst.</p> +<p>“Shet yer mouth, Dan Hodges,” she snapped. +“I’ve done told ye afore, ye kain’t ‘honey’ me. If +ye wants to pass the time o’ day, jest don’t fergit +as how hit’s Miss Plutiny fer you-all.”</p> +<p>Hodges gaped bewilderedly under the rebuke. +Then he growled defiantly.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +<img src='images/illus-134.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 626px; height: 447px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 626px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +BAD BLOOD BETWEEN RIVALS.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></div> +<p>“Wall, I’ll be dogged! Quite some spit-fire, +hain’t ye? Reckon I know what’s a-bitin on ye. +Ye’re mad kase Uncle Dick tuk the mounting land +ye gals look to heir to, to bail me and Ben.” He +stared at the girl ominously, with drawn brows. His +voice was guttural with threatening. “So be ye +mout hev to eat them words o’ your’n. Mebby, +when I’ve done tole ye a thing er two, ye’ll be a-askin’ +of me to call ye ‘honey.’ Mebby, ye’ll want to +hover yer ole ‘hon,’ arter I let’s ye know a thing +or two ’bout the doin’s o’ you-all an’ thet damned +little runt, thet reportin’ dawg sweetheart o’ your’n—Zeke +Higgins.”</p> +<p>The girl was stricken. She understood the outlaw’s +reference. Somehow he had gained certain +knowledge of Zeke’s part in saving the Quaker-school-teacher +spy. She realized that the criminal +gang would not hesitate at the murder of one who +had thus foiled them. For the moment, she gave no +heed to the danger that menaced herself as well. +Her whole concern was for her lover. The single +comfort came from the fact of his absence. Much +as she had been longing for his coming, her prayer +now was that he should not return until these men +were imprisoned.</p> +<p>With a fierce effort toward bravery in the face of +catastrophe, Plutina stood up, and drew herself +proudly erect. Her dark eyes flashed wrathfully. +She spoke with disdain:</p> +<p>“Ye wouldn’t dast say that to Zeke Higgins’ +teeth. Mebby, he hain’t so thick through as you-all, +and he hain’t so thick-headed, nuther. An’ he hain’t +no runt, as ye’d find quick ’nuf, if so be’s ye dast +stand up to him, man to man, ’stid o’ with a gun +from the laurel. He’s a man—what you-all hain’t. +He hain’t the kind to layway from the bushes, ner +to be a-stealin’ his neighbor’s cattle an’ hawgs. An’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +what’s more Dan Hodges, ef ye say as how Zeke +ever reported ary still, ye’re a hell-bustin’ liar!”</p> +<p>Her jibes were powerless against the coarse-fibered +brute. He grinned malevolently as he jeered +at her.</p> +<p>“Thar, now! Hain’t it a pity to have a sweetheart +what hain’t brave ’nuf to stand ’is ground, +an’ runs off, an’ leaves ’is gal to fit fer ’im.” Then, +abruptly, the moonshiner’s expression changed to +one meant to be ingratiating. “Wall, now, Miss +Plutiny, I shore likes the way ye stan’s up fer the +pore cuss. But, arter all, hes’ done up and left ye. +An’ he hain’t comin’ back. Hit wouldn’t be healthy +fer him to come back,” he added, savagely. “An’ +what’s more, ye hain’t a-gwine to jine ’im whar he’s +at. The Hodges’ crowd won’t stan’ fer no sech! +He’s been writ, Zeke Higgins has, with the sign +o’ the skull an’ the cross—the hull thing. Ye know +what thet means, I reckon.”</p> +<p>Plutina blenched, and seated herself again, weakly. +It was true, she knew the fantastic rigmarole, +which made absurd the secret dictates of these illiterate +desperadoes. But that absurdity meant +death, none the less—death for the one she loved. +In her misery, she listened almost apathetically as +Hodges went on talking in his heavy, grating +voice.</p> +<p>“Zeke Higgins knows as how the Allens give us +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +the word ’bout ’is crossin’ Bull Head with the spy. +He knows thet, if ’e shows up in this-hyar kentry +ag’in, the Devil’s Pot’ll have ’im fer a b’ilin’. An’ +thet’s ’nuf fer Zeke’s case. Now, we’ll jest chin a +mite ’bout your’n.”</p> +<p>There was a little interval of silence, in which +the girl stared unseeingly toward the splendors of the +blossoming rhododendrons that fringed the clearing. +The apathy had passed now, and she listened intently, +with self-control to mask the despair that welled +in her heart. It seemed to her that here was the need +for that dissimulation she had promised herself—need +of it for life’s sake, however hateful it might +be, however revolting to her every instinct. So she +listened in a seeming of white calm, while the flames +shriveled her soul.</p> +<p>The man straightened his great bulk a little, and +regarded the girl with new earnestness. Into his +speech crept a rude eloquence, for he voiced a sincere +passion, though debased by his inherent +bestiality.</p> +<p>“Plutiny Siddon, I’ve knowed ye, an’ I’ve craved +ye, this many year. Some way, hit just seemed as +how I couldn’t he’p hit. The more ye mistreated +me, the more I wanted ye. Hit shames me, but +hit’s true as preachin’. An’ hit’s true yit—even +arter seein’ yer bare futprint tracks thar on the +Branch, alongside them of a man with shoes—the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +damned revenuer what got us. Ye showed ’im the +place, Plutiny Siddon—cuss ye, fer a spy!... +An’ I craves ye jest the same.... An’ I’ll have +ye—right soon!”</p> +<p>At this saying, terror mounted high in the girl. +The thing she so dreaded was come to pass. She +forgot, for a few moments, the threats against her +lover. Despair crushed her in the realization of +discovery. Her treachery was known to the man she +feared. The peril she had voluntarily risked was +fallen upon her. She was helpless, at the mercy of +the criminal she had betrayed—and she knew that +there was no mercy in him. She shrank physically, +as under a blow, and sat huddled a little, in a sudden +weakness of body under the soul’s torment. Yet +she listened with desperate intentness, as Hodges +went on speaking. She cast one timid glance toward +him, then dropped her gaze, revolted at the grotesque +grimaces writhen by the man’s emotions.</p> +<p>“Harkin to me, Miss Plutiny!” he pleaded, huskily. +“Harkin to me! I knows what I’m a-doin’ of. +They hain’t nothin’ ye kin do to stop me. Kase +why? Wall, if ye love yer gran’pap, ye’ll hold yer +tongue ’bout all my talk. Yep! He’s done pledged +his land to keep me an’ Ben out o’ the jail-house till +cote. If ye tells ’im I’m a-misusin’ o’ ye, he’d cancel +the bond, an’ try to deliver me up. I knows all +thet. But he wouldn’t cancel no bond, an’ no more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +he wouldn’t do any deliverin’ o’ me up. Kase why? +Kase he’d jest nacherly die fust. Thet’s why. The +land’d be good fer the bond jest the same till Fall. +Thet’d give me an’ Ben a heap o’ time to git ready to +light out o’ this-hyar kentry. They hain’t nary +pusson a-goin’ to bother us none. They knows hit’s +healthier a-mindin’ their own business. I been +dodgin’ revenuers fifteen year, an’ I’ll dodge ag’in, +an’ take my savin’s along, too. An’ they’s quite +some savin’s, Plutiny.”</p> +<p>Hodges paused, as if to give greater impressiveness +to the conclusion of his harangue. His voice as +he continued held a note of savage finality.</p> +<p>“So, ye understand, Plutiny, I hain’t afeared +none arter what I done told ye’ll happen, if so be ye +talk. I knows ye love yer gran’pap, an’ hain’t a +hankerin’ fer ’im to be murdered. Now, I’m gwine +to leave ye till t’-morrer, to git kind o’ used to the +idee as how ye’re gwine to leave this-hyar kentry +with me arter I pays yer gran’pap the money fer +the bail. If you-all is so plumb foolish as to say +no, hit ’ll jest leave yerself an’ yer kin in the hands +o’ we boys to reckon with. Do as I’m a-sayin’ on, +an’ I’ll shore fergit ’bout yer reportin’ the still. +I’ll jest ’low to myself as how ye was only a gal, +an’ used damn’ poor jedgment. I hold hit were +powerful unkind o’ you-all, seein’ as how we-uns +hain’t never wronged ye none. I suspicion ye had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +hit figgered out as how Zeke could come back ’ere +a’gin if ye had me kotched. Wall, little missy, Dan +Hodges air jest a mite too cunnin’ fer ye.” The +boaster gloated over his cowering victim, malice +sparkling in his lustful eyes.</p> +<p>It seemed to the girl that she was in truth hopelessly +ensnared by fate. Her harried thoughts ran +in a circle, dizzily. She could find no loophole for +escape from the net. The mesh of the outlaw’s deviltry +was strong; her flutterings were feeble, futile. +She found one ray of comfort in Zeke’s absence. +She forgot it in distress for the danger to her +grandfather. Then, horror for herself beat upon +her spirit. But a memory of her first resolve came +to her. From stark necessity, she put her whole +reliance on an effort to temporize. She felt that +her only recourse in this emergency must lie in +deceiving the ruffian who thus beset her. Much as +she abhorred him, she had no choice. There was +none to whom she could appeal for succor. She +must depend absolutely upon her ability to beguile +him. She must hide the revulsion inspired by his +mere presence. She must arm herself with the +world-old weapons of her sex, and by wiles blind +him to the truth of her feeling, gain time for—something, +anything! At least here was room for +hope, uncertain, absurd even, yet hope. A little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +color crept to her pallid cheeks. If she could but +manage the deceit to secure delay until the Fall.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes furtively toward the adversary, +an appraising glance, as if to judge his gullibility. +The brutish passion of the man showed in +the pendulous lower lip, thrust forward a little, in +the swinish lifting of the wide-flaring nostrils, in +the humid glowing of the inflamed eyes. A nausea +of disgust swept over her. She fought it down. +Then, with hypocrisy that amazed herself, she met +his ardent stare boldly, though with a pretense of +timidity. She spoke with a hesitant, remonstrant +voice, as if in half-hearted protest,</p> +<p>“Hit’s dangerous to talk hyar, Dan,” she said. +She assumed a pose of coquetry. “If I agrees to +save Gran’pap an’ ’is land, an’ takes ye, have ye got +money ’nough fer us to git along among the furriners +down below?” A pleased smile showed. “An’ +could ye buy me purty clo’s an’ sech-like? Don’t +ye dast lie to me, Dan Hodges, fer a woman wants +plenty o’ nice fixin’s. An’ if ye means hit all, like +ye says, I’ll meet ye at Holloman Gate t’-morrer at +twelve, an’ give ye yes er no.”</p> +<p>The moonshiner received with complacence this +evidence of yielding on the girl’s part. He had, indeed, +the vanity that usually characterizes the criminal. +It was inconceivable to his egotism that he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +must be odious to any decent woman. Plutina’s +avaricious stipulation concerning money pleased +him as a display of feminine shrewdness. He was +in nowise offended. The women of his more intimate +acquaintance did not scruple to bargain their +charms. From such trollops, he gained his estimate +of the sex. The sordid pretense by Plutina completed +his delusion. The truckling of familiars had +inflated conceit. He swelled visibly. The finest +girl in the mountains was ready to drop into his +arms! Passion drove him toward her.</p> +<p>Plutina raised her hand in an authoritative gesture. +She could feign much, but to endure a caress +from the creature was impossible. Somehow, by +some secret force in the gesture, his advance was +checked, he knew not why.</p> +<p>“Not now, Dan,” she exclaimed, sharply. She +added a lie, in extenuation of the refusal: “Alviry’s +in the house. Besides, I got to have time to think, +like ye said. But I’ll be at the gate t’-morrer.”</p> +<p>Hodges accepted her decree amiably enough. He +was still flattered by her complaisant attitude toward +his wooing.</p> +<p>“Ye’re talkin’ sense, Plutiny—the kind I likes to +hear. I’ll be thar, waitin’ fer ye, ye kin bet on thet.” +Then his natural truculence showed again in a parting +admonition: “An’ don’t you-all try fer to play +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +Dan Hodges fer a fool. If so be ye does, ye’ll wish +to God ye hadn’t.”</p> +<p>With the threat, he turned and went lumbering +down the path, to vanish quickly within the shadows +of the wood.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII' id='CHAPTER_XIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +</div> +<p>After his day of toil in Pleasant Valley, +Uncle Dick Siddon sprawled at ease on the +porch, smoking his pipe, and watching with +mildly sentimental eyes the rosy hues of the cloud +masses that crowned Stone Mountain. His mood +was tranquilly amorous. The vial in his pocket was +full of golden grains. Presently, he would fashion +a ring. Then, heigh-ho for the parson! He smiled +contentedly over his vision of the buxom Widow +Brown. Her placid charms would soothe his declining +years. A tempestuous passion would be +unbecoming at his age. But the companionship of +this gentle and agreeable woman would be both fitting +and pleasant. Really, Uncle Dick mused, it +was time he settled down. One should be sedate at +eighty. But he sighed.</p> +<p>A horseman appeared over the brow of the hill. +The horse traveled slowly, as if wearied by many +miles. A single glance at the erect, soldierly figure +made known to Uncle Dick that this was a stranger, +and he watched intently. As the rider came nearer, +he hesitated, then guided his mount toward the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +clearing. Uncle Dick perceived, of a sudden, that +the left sleeve of the stranger’s coat, which was +pinned across the breast, was empty. At the sight, a +great sadness fell on him. He guessed the identity +of the horseman. His soul was filled with mourning +over a shattered romance. He fairly winced as +the rider drew rein before him, with a cheery, +“Howdy?”</p> +<p>There was a curious constraint in Uncle Dick’s +voice, as he made hospitable answer.</p> +<p>“Howdy, yerse’f, Stranger? ’Light, an’ come +in.”</p> +<p>“I hain’t time to ’light,” the traveler declared. +“Jones is my name. What mout your’n be?”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick descended the steps, regarding the +visitor intently. There was a perceptible aloofness in +his manner, though no lack of courtesy.</p> +<p>“My name passes fer Siddon. I ’low ye hain’t +familiar round these-hyar parts?”</p> +<p>“I’m right-smart strange, I reckon,” was the admission. +“But I was borned forty-mile south o’ +here, on the Yadkin. My father owned the place +Daniel Boone lived when he sickened o’ this-hyar +kentry, kase it wa’n’t wild ’nough. I’m kin ter +Boone’s woman—Bryant strain—raised ’twixt this-hyar +creek an’ Air Bellows.”</p> +<p>“Wall, say ye so!” Uncle Dick exclaimed, heartily. +“Why, I knowed ye when ye was a boy. You-all’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +pap used to buy wool, an’ my pap tuk me with +’im to the Boone place with ’is Spring shearin’. +Thet makes we-uns some sort o’ kin. Ye’d better +’light an’ take a leetle breathin’ spell. A drink o’ +my ole brandy might cheer ye. An’ ye know,” he +concluded, with a quick hardening of his tones, +“hit’s customary to know a stranger’s business up +in these-hyar mountings.”</p> +<p>The horseman took no offense.</p> +<p>“I rid up to the balcony jest to make inquiry ’bout +a friend what I hain’t seed in a right-smart bit, an’ +who I learnt was a-livin’ a lonely widder’s life on +Guarding Creek. Could you-all direct me to the +abode o’ one Widder Brown? I hev some private +an’ pussonal business with the widder. Hit’s a +kind what don’t consarn nary human critter but +me an’ her.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick sought no further for information, +but issued the requested direction, and moodily +watched the horseman out of sight. Then, with a +sigh that was very like a groan, he moved away +toward a small outbuilding, in which was a forge. +Here when he had set the forge glowing, he took +from his pocket the vial of gold dust, and emptied +the contents into a ladle. When the metal was +melted, he poured off the dross, and proceeded to +hammer the ingot into a broad band. Eventually, +he succeeded in forming a massive ring of the virgin +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +gold. But, throughout the prosecution of the +task, there was none of that fond elation which +had upborne him during the hours while he gathered +the material. On the contrary, his shaggy +brows were drawn in a frown of disappointment. +He cursed below his breath from time to time, with +pointed references to one-armed veterans, who dast +come back when they hadn’t orter. He was still in +a saddened and rebellious mood, when he returned +to the porch, where he found his granddaughters +seated at some sewing. His face lightened a little +at sight of them.</p> +<p>“Guess I got my han’s full ’nough o’ women-folks, +anyhow,” he muttered. “Fine gals they be, +too!” He regarded them attentively, with a new +pride of possession. “I ’low I hain’t a-kickin’ much +of any. I reckon like ’nough I be settled down +right now, only I didn’t know ’nough to know it.” +He chuckled over this conceit, as he seated himself, +and became uncommonly sociable, somewhat +to the distress of Plutina, who found it difficult to +conceal her anxiety.</p> +<p>Dusk was falling when the horseman reappeared. +This time there was no hesitation, as he turned from +the road into the clearing. Uncle Dick rose, and +shouted greeting, with labored facetiousness.</p> +<p>“Wall, Mister Jones, I ’lowed as how ye mout +be the tax-collector, arter the widder’s mite, seein’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +how long ye was a-hangin’ on up thar. Me an’ the +gals’d feel a right-smart consarn to lose Fanny +Brown fer a neighbor, if she was pushed too hard +fer her debts.”</p> +<p>“Mister Siddon, suh,” the stranger answered +promptly. “I opine you-all hain’t half-bad at a guess. +I be a tax-collector, so to speak, a debt-collector. +Hit’s a debt contracted fifty-year agone. Fanny +Brown done tole me as how you-all been good +neighbors o’ her’n, so I don’t mind tellin’ ye she’s +willin’ fer me to collect thet-thar debt o’ mine.” +There was an expression of vast complacency on the +veteran’s face, as he stroked the tuft of whisker on +his chin, and he smiled on his three auditors half-triumphantly, +half-shamefacedly. “I got cheated +o’ her oncet by being too slow. I hain’t goin’ to +do no sech foolishness ag’in. T’-morrer, if the +clerk’s office is open, I’ll git the satisfaction piece +an’ Preacher Roberts’ll tie the knot good and proper—amen!”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick sighed audibly at the announcement, +but his chagrin was given no further expression +as he invited the victorious rival to dismount and +partake of his hospitality. Alvira received the news +with bubbling delight, which showed gaily in her +sparkling black eyes and dimpling cheeks. Even +Plutina was heartened by the discovery that her +grandfather’s folly, as she deemed it, must end, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +though there could be no gladness in her by reason +of the fear.</p> +<p>It was after the supper was done, when the visitor’s +horse stood at the door, that Uncle Dick took +a sudden resolve.</p> +<p>“Alviry,” he ordered, “you-all come hold this-hyar +hoss, a leetle minute, whilst me an’ ’im has a +confab.”</p> +<p>He led the puzzled veteran to a bench beneath a +locust, out of earshot of his granddaughters, who regarded +the proceeding curiously, and not without +apprehension since they knew the violent temper of +the old man when thwarted. They were relieved to +perceive that his demeanor remained altogether +peaceable.</p> +<p>“Hit’s jest this-away, Seth Jones,” Uncle Dick +began at once, after the two were seated side by +side on the bench. “Ye see, I knew you-all, an’ yer +name an’ yer business, soon’s I sot eyes on ye. Hit +were thet-thar danglin’ sleeve o’ your’n as ye rid up +the path what done hit. I knowed then as how my +fate was sealed, s’ fur’s the Widder Brown’s consarned. +Fanny done told me about you-all an’ yer +disapp’intment. She allers said, arter her man died, +as how ye’d be a-comin’ ’long, though I was hopin’ +ye wouldn’t—cuss ye! Excuse me—no offense intended. +The widder an’ me has been clost friends, +an’ I told her from the first as how I respected the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +claims of this-hyar Jones galoot, if so be he turned +up afore we got hitched. An’ now hyar ye be—dang +hit!”</p> +<p>The veteran cleared his throat apologetically. His +own happiness made him exaggerate the injury thus +wrought by his reappearance. He ventured no remark, +however. He could not say that the woman +in the case was hardly worth troubling over, and, +for the life of him, he could think of nothing else +in the way of consolation. He discreetly cleared +his throat a second time, and maintained a masterly +silence. But the garrulous old man at his +side needed no encouragement. He quickly resumed +his discourse, with a certain unctuous enjoyment, +distinctly inconsistent with his love-lorn +pose.</p> +<p>“Seth Jones,” he announced solemnly, “if you-all +an’ me was young ag’in, an’ fired by the passion +o’ youth, thar wouldn’t be no love-feast hyar jest +now like this un. No, sirree! Hit’d shore be war +a-twixt we-uns—with hell a-poppin’ at the end on’t +fer one, mebby both. But my blood don’t git het +up now the way hit use’ to did. I’m thinkin’ fer +the widder’s sake hit’s good ye’re younger ner me, +an’ got more years to give ’er. So, Mr. Jones, +when all’s said an’ done, I’m glad ye come to Guarding +Creek.”</p> +<p>Then, Uncle Dick, in his turn, displayed some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +slight symptoms of embarrassment, and cleared his +throat in a manner to shock a drawing-room.</p> +<p>“An’ now I got jest one leetle favor to ax o’ ye, +Seth Jones. You-all knows as how the gals in this-hyar +kentry air partic’lar proud to have a weddin’ +ring made from the gold washed out o’ the soil in +Pleasant Valley by their sweetheart. Wall, I talked +a heap ’bout hit to Fanny, an’, when she showed +signs like she’d give in to me, I went an’ panned the +gold fer the ring. Fanny’d be right-smart disapp’inted +not to have a lover-made ring, I reckon. +So, bein’ as you-all only got one arm, I wants ye +to take this-hyar ring, an’ wed her proper with the +blessin’ an’ best wishes o’ Uncle Dick Siddon.”</p> +<p>He offered the ring, which was gratefully accepted, +and the two old men parted on excellent +terms.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>At eleven o’clock the next morning, Uncle Dick +was sitting on the porch, when he saw a horse passing +over the trail toward the south. In the saddle +was the erect, spruce figure of the one-armed veteran, +Seth Jones. And, on a blanket strapped behind +the saddle to serve as pillion, rode a woman, +with her arms clasped around the man’s waist. It +was the Widow Brown, dressed all in gala white.</p> +<p>It was, indeed, heigh-ho for the parson!</p> +<p>Uncle Dick stared fixedly until the two had vanished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +beyond the brow of the hill. Then, at last, +he stirred, and his eyes roved over his home and its +surroundings wistfully. He sighed heavily. But +he himself would have been hard put to it to tell +whether that sigh held more of regret, or of relief.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV' id='CHAPTER_XIV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +</div> +<p>While her grandfather was still on the +porch, and her sister was out of the +house, Plutina possessed herself of the +new revolver, with its holster, which, after slipping +down her gown from the shoulder, she attached +under the left arm-pit. The looseness of the ill-fitting +garment concealed the weapon effectually +enough. For ready access, the upper buttons to the +throat were left unfastened, in seeming relief +against the heat of midday. Thus equipped, the +girl stole out through the back way, unobserved by +her relations, to keep tryst with the desperado.</p> +<p>As she followed a blind trail that shortened the +distance between the Siddon cabin and the Holloman +Gate to a short two miles, Plutina was torturing +a brain already overtaxed in the effort to devise +some means whereby she might wreck the projects +of the villain, without at the same time bringing +ruin on herself, or those she loved. Always, however, +her thoughts went spinning toward the same +vortex of destruction. She could, indeed, contrive +nothing better than the policy of cajolery on which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +she had first determined, and to this course, as it +seemed to her, she must cling, though her good +sense was well advised of its futility. She knew +that a scoundrel of Hodges unrestrained passions +could not long be held from his infamous purposes +by any art of hers. At the best, she might hope +perhaps to delay the catastrophe only by hours. In +her discouraged state, she admitted that it would +be quite impossible to restrain him until the law +should come to her aid. She was determined none +the less to employ every resource at her command, +in order to postpone decisive action. One thing +was at once her chief reliance and her chief source +of fear: the outlaw’s passion for her. In his brutal +fashion, the man loved her. That fact gave her +power over him, even while it exposed her to the +worst peril at his hands.</p> +<p>The presence of the revolver comforted her +mightily. From time to time, she moved her right +hand stealthily across her bosom, to reassure a failing +courage by feeling the stiff leather of the holster +under the gown. She was experienced in the use of +weapons. Her rifle had often contributed to the +cabin larder. Muscles that knew no tremor and a +just eye had given her a skill in marksmanship +much beyond the average, even in this region where +firearms were forever in the hands of the men, +and familiar to the women. Once, her moving fingers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +felt the little bag hanging from its leathern +thong about her neck, in which was the fairy crystal. +The hardness of her expression vanished on +the instant, and in its stead was a wonderful tenderness. +A world of yearning shone in the dark +lustres of the eyes, and the curving lips drooped in +pathetic wistfulness. Her soul went out toward the +distant lover in a very frenzy of desire. She felt +the longing well in her, a craving so agonized that +nothing else mattered, neither life nor death. Had +the power been hers then, she would have summoned +him across the void. The loneliness was a +visible, tangible monster, beating in upon her, +crushing her with hideous, remorseless strength. +Her man must come back!</p> +<p>It was the mood of a moment, no more. Even as +she thrilled with the anguished longing she lifted +her eyes, and halted, aghast at the scene before +her. There, close at hand to the southeast, Stone +Mountain upreared its huge and rugged bulk. It +loomed implacable, with the naked cliffs staring +grotesquely. It overhung her like immutable fate, +silent, pitiless. There was sinister significance in +its aspect, for just before her lay the cavernous +shadows of the Devil’s Cauldron. The girl’s gaze +went to the verge of the precipice far above. It +followed down the wild tumblings of the little +stream, fed from lofty springs. It descended in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +the last long leap of the waters into the churning +pool. And she had a vision of the man she loved, +bound, and helpless—dead perhaps, shot from behind—and +now thrust out from the verge into the +abyss, to go hurtling into the mist-wreathed +depths.... No, Zeke must not come back. +The hardness crept again into her face, as she went +forward. She held her eyes averted from that +gruesome cavern high in the mountain’s face.</p> +<p>The girl came soon to the Holloman Gate, which +swung across the trail near the west end of the +mountain. Tall poplars and spruce made an ample +shade, but a glance toward the sun showed it at the +zenith. She was prompt to the rendezvous; it was +the lover who was laggard. She wondered a little +at that, but with no lightening of her mood. She +was sure that he would come all too speedily. She +stood waiting in misery, leaning listlessly against +the fence, her gaze downcast. The geranium blossoms +touched the sward richly with color; the +rhododendrons flaunted the loveliness of their +flowering round about the spot. A delicate medley +of birds’ songs throbbed from out the thickets; a +tiny stream purled over its pebbled bed in the ravine +that entrenched the trail. Plutina gave no heed. +She saw and she heard, but, in this hour, she was +without response to any charm of sight or of sound. +Yet, that she was alert was proven presently, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +her ear caught the faint crackle of a twig snapping. +It was a little way off—somewhere along the line +of the brush-grown fence, on the same side of the +trail. She peered steadily in the direction of the +noise. When her eyes became accustomed to the +shadows, she made out the figure of a man, +crouched in a corner of the fence, behind the screen +of a bush. He was no more than three or four +rods from her. She was sure even that she recognized +him—Gary Hawks, one of the most vicious +of the Hodges gang, but notorious for cowardice. +She was puzzled for only a moment by the presence +of the fellow. Then, she realized that he +doubtless was acting under his leader’s orders. It +was another menace against her own safety. The +fingers of her hand went once again for encouragement +to the holster beneath her arm.</p> +<p>Plutina gave no sign that she had discovered the +lurking man’s presence. But, after a minute, she +retraced her steps a little way along the trail, until +she came to a point where there was a clear space +on either side, which was out of hearing from the +fence line. She had scarcely reached the place, +when Hodges appeared, his bare feet trudging +swiftly. His head, too, was bare. In the hollow of +his left arm lay the long rifle. He was approaching +from the east, and halted at the gate, without +having observed the girl beyond it. He whistled a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +soft note as a signal if she should be anywhere +about.</p> +<p>Plutina called out softly in answer.</p> +<p>“Hyar, Dan!” As he looked toward her, she +beckoned him to approach.</p> +<p>Hodges shook his head in dissent, and, by a gesture, +bade her come to him. But, when she showed +no sign of obeying, he moved forward, scowling, +ferociously. The girl seemed undaunted. She +spoke curtly in rebuke:</p> +<p>“’Pears to me, Dan Hodges, like ye hain’t very +prompt, seein’ as how I’ve been a-waiting hyar a +quarter-hour fer ye. When a man loves a gal, he +gen’rally gits to the place sot ahead o’ her. Ye +hain’t a-startin’ right to win me, Dan, an’ so I’m +a-tellin’ ye fair.”</p> +<p>“You-all orter have more sense than hang out +hyar in the sun. Come back to the gate, under the +shade o’ the sarvis bushes.” He turned away, but +paused as the girl made no movement to follow. +“What in hell’s the matter on ye?” he demanded, +angrily. “This place in the rud hain’t fitten fer +talk, nohow.”</p> +<p>“Hit’s fitten ’nough fer me,” Plutina retorted, +quietly. A mellow laugh sounded. “Seems to me +this-hyar bright sunshine orter warm yer love up +some, Dan. We’ll stay hyar, I reckon. I’m afeared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +o’ snakes an’ eavesdroppers an’ sech critters thar +in the shade.”</p> +<p>The man was racked by many emotions. He had +come swiftly under the hot sun, and the haste and +the heat had irritated him. The sight of the girl +moved him to fierce passion of desire. He was +aflame with eagerness to take her within his arms, +there where were the cool shadows. Her indifference +to his command exasperated him; her final +refusal infuriated him. In the rush of feeling he +lost what little judgment he might otherwise have +had. He had meant to placate her by a temporary +gentleness, to be offset by future brutalities. Now, +in his rage, he forgot discretion under the pricking +of lawless impulse. He reached out and dropped a +huge hand on Plutina’s shoulder, and twisted her +about with a strength she was powerless to resist. +The clutch of his fingers cut cruelly into her flesh, +firm though it was, and she winced. He grinned +malevolently.</p> +<p>“Git back thar as I done tol’ ye,” he rasped; +“afore ye git wuss.”</p> +<p>With a deft twist of the body, Plutina stood free. +The face, which had paled, flushed darkly. The eyes +blazed. The head was uplifted in scorn. Her aspect +awed the man, and he hesitated, gaping at her. +Yet her voice was very soft when she spoke. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +tone surprised her listener, rendered him strangely +uneasy, for some reason he could not understand.</p> +<p>“Thet ten minutes ye was late was more’n I had +need fer, Dan Hodges,” she said. “I promised ye +yer answer hyar, an’ I’m a-goin’ to give hit to ye +right now.”</p> +<p>She lifted an arm, and pointed to where the +Devil’s Cauldron blotched the cliffs of the mountainside +... It was her left arm that she lifted.</p> +<p>“Look, Dan! See thet-thar big hole in the wall. +I been a-lookin’ at hit, Dan. I ’low you-all don’t +dast look at hit. Mebby ye’re afeared o’ seein’ the +bones o’ them hit holds—bones o’ dead men—what +you-all an’ yer gang hev kilt an’ slid into the pot, +to lie hid till Jedgment. Hit’s thar ye’re aimin’ +to put my Zeke. Why, a haar o’ his head’s wuth +more’n the hull caboodle of sech murderers as yew +be.”</p> +<p>She stepped closer to the outlaw, and spoke with +unleashed hate. He flinched at the change.</p> +<p>“I was skeered o’ ye back thar on the piazzy yist’-day, +an’ I lied to ye, kase I was skeered. I wasn’t +a-likin’ the look in them pig eyes o’ your’n. An’ I +was a-feared o’ Gran’pap’s hearin’ how I reported the +still. Wall, now I hain’t skeered no more. I promised +ye yer answer at the gate. We’ll move over +thar, an’ I’ll keep my promise.”</p> +<p>Before he could guess her purpose, before he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +could shift the rifle from the hollow of his arm, the +fingers of Plutina’s right hand had slipped within +the open bodice. The Colt’s flashed in the sunlight. +The level barrel lay motionless, in deadly +readiness. For the girl, though not yet quite sure, +was almost sure that she would kill Dan Hodges.</p> +<p>The idea had not come to her until this meeting. +In all the racking hours of thought, this simple solution +of the difficulty had never entered her mind. +Now, at its coming, she welcomed it with infinite +relief. It offered a means of escape so simple and +so sure—escape for herself and for those she loved. +It was the touch of the man that had wrought the +miracle of revolt. She had felt herself polluted by +the contact. On the instant, the hypocrisy of cajoling +was no longer possible. But there was more in +the effect than that. The savagery of the outlaw +aroused the savagery in her. She became, in the +twinkling of an eye, the primitive woman. There +was little in the sentiment of her people to dam the +outburst. Her kin had followed the lex talionis. +They had killed their fellows for the sake of their +proper pride. The blood-feud was familiar to her, +and she knew no shame in it. Why should she not +slay this creature who outraged her self-respect, +who threatened her every hope? Her finger on the +trigger of the revolver tensed ever so slightly.</p> +<p>The man felt the vibration of her impulse and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +cringed. He was in a daze before this violence of +attack, where he had expected only supine yielding. +In his creed, the beating of women marked +manliness. The drabs he had caressed crept and +fawned under his blows, like whipped curs. He +could not realize this challenge by the girl with his +own method of might. But he saw clearly enough +through the haze of fear that the blue barrel was +trained exactly upon him, that the slim hand held +it rigid, and he knew that, in this instant, he was +very, very close to death. The red of his face +changed to a mottled purple. He felt himself +trembling.</p> +<p>Plutina perceived the abject terror of the man. +It mitigated her wrath with scorn, and so saved +him for the moment. She cried out to him fiercely, +her voice rough with abhorrence.</p> +<p>“To the gate fer yer answer, ye cowardly houn’. +Move quick, er I’ll drap ye in yer tracks, ye murderin’ +wolf. Do as I say!”</p> +<p>She moved another step toward him. Her voice +rose shrill:</p> +<p>“Drap thet rifle-gun!”</p> +<p>The weapon slipped from Hodges’ nerveless fingers, +and fell on the turf with a soft thud.</p> +<p>“Put up yer han’s!”</p> +<p>Cowed, the man thrust his long arms to their +length above his head. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p> +<p>“Now, turn round, an’ march to the gate!”</p> +<p>There was no faltering in the obedience.</p> +<p>The hulking bully knew that he was in mortal +peril. For his life’s sake, he dared neither word +nor gesture of resistance to the girl’s will. His +only hope was that the hidden ally might somehow +come to his aid. But the hope was feeble. He +knew the other’s craven spirit.</p> +<p>Plutina, too, knew it. As she drove her captive +to the gate, she peered, and saw the crouching figure +still in the shadows behind the bush. The Colt’s +cracked. Even as Hodges shuddered, imagining +the tearing of the bullet through his own flesh, there +came a shriek of pain from beyond him. The hidden +man leaped forth, his right arm dangling +clumsily. He scrambled into the cover of the +spruces and vanished. The noises of his flight lessened, +died.</p> +<p>“I’ve scotched a snake,” Plutina said, malignantly. +“Hit’s about time to kill the dawg, I reckon. +Turn round.” Then, when he had obeyed, she +went on speaking. “Now, hyar at the gate, I’ll +tell ye somethin’. You-all ’lowed ye could git me +with money. If ye had all they is in the world, hit +wouldn’t be enough. An’ ye thought I tuk money +fer reportin’ the still. Wall, I didn’t. I reported +thet-thar still o’ your’n kase I seed ye a-settin’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +b’ar-traps fer humans, an’ hit made me hate ye +even wuss ’n I done hated ye afore.”</p> +<p>Somehow, the flame of her fury was dying. The +girl felt this, and bitterly resented it, yet she was +powerless. It seemed to her that with all the +strength of her nature she was desirous of killing +this enemy. He stood cowering before her in +dread. Her finger on the trigger needed only the +slightest flexing to speed the death he merited. And, +for some occult reason, the will to slay failed her. +She was enraged against her own weakness of resolve. +Nevertheless, she was helpless. Her mood +had reached its climax in the impulsive wounding of +the other man. Now, her blood was losing its +fever. With the slowing pulse, the softer instincts +prevailed to thwart her purpose. Despite an +anguished eagerness, she could not kill this trembling +wretch. She loathed her frailty, even as she +yielded to it. She must let him go unscathed, a foe +the more dangerous after this humiliation. Of no +use to threaten him, to extort promises. There was +no truth in him. He must be left free to work what +evil he would. Oh, if only the wrath in her had not +died too soon!</p> +<p>“Put yer han’s down, an’ march up the trail,” +she commanded, presently. Her voice was lifeless. +The man drew new hope from the quality of it. +He ventured no resistance to the command, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +went padding softly through the dust. Behind him, +Plutina followed, her bare feet padding an echo. +Her right hand hung at her side, but it retained the +revolver, ready for instant use. As she came to +Hodges’ rifle, she picked it up, and threw it far +down into the ravine. At the clattering noise of +its fall, the outlaw started, but he did not pause in +his stride, or turn. The girl’s whole soul was convulsed +with longing that he should make some effort +of revolt—anything. Then, she would shoot +and kill—oh, so gladly!</p> +<p>But the instinct to live guided the man. He +trudged meekly. There was no excuse against +him. So, they came at last near to the Siddon clearing, +where a little path ran through the wood toward +the house. Here, Plutina paused, without a +word. She was ashamed of herself, grievously +ashamed of this softness of fiber that had spared a +life. Without a word, she watched him pass along +the trail, up the slope, and out of sight beyond. Her +face was drawn and white, and the great eyes were +brooding with bitterness, when, finally, she stirred, +and moved forward in the path. She slipped the +revolver into its holster. Then, her fingers went to +the bag that held the fairy cross to her breast. She +fondled it tenderly. She was longing as never before +for the giver of the talisman.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV' id='CHAPTER_XV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +</div> +<p>Plutina had no sleep the night following her +encounter with Dan Hodges. Throughout +the dragging hours, she was tortured by +sinister imaginings. She exhausted her brain in +futile strivings for some means of escape from the +mesh of circumstance. It was not until the gray +twilight of dawn shone through the curtains that a +possibility of relief stirred in her mind. It was out +of desperation that the idea sprang. She felt herself +so utterly forlorn and helpless in her loneliness +that the despair was overpowering. It was then, +at last, that the inspiration came to her: She +would confess everything to her grandfather!</p> +<p>Though she quailed before the prospect, she rejoiced +as well. The old man was strong and resourceful. +He would know how to meet and overcome +the outlaw’s villainy. Moreover, now that her +decision had been made, Plutina was surprised to +find her alarm over such confession greatly lessened +from what she had supposed possible. She began to +realize that some intangible change in her grandfather +himself was responsible for this. She became +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +convinced that the new gentleness had had +its origin in the unselfish abandonment of his marital +hopes. It was as if that renunciation had vitally +softened him. Perhaps, in this strange mood, he +would be less intolerant of her fault in turning informer. +His prejudice could find no excuse for her +treachery, she knew, yet the peril in which she had +involved herself, and him, might arouse his pity. +Assuredly, he would be moved to instant action for +both their sakes. For that reason alone, if for no +other, she must tell him her story without a moment +of unnecessary delay.</p> +<p>In the course of the morning, Plutina took advantage +of an opportunity, whilst her sister was +busy in the garden, and went to her grandfather, +who was taking his ease on the porch. She was +encouraged by the mild and benignant expression +on the old man’s face, which had been more often +fierce, as she remembered it through the years. She +seated herself quietly, and then proceeded immediately +to confession. There was no attempt at palliation +of her offense, if offense it were. She gave the +narrative of events starkly, from the moment when +she had first seen Hodges descending Luffman’s +Branch to the time of her separation from him at +the clearing, on the yesterday.</p> +<p>Throughout the account, the listener sat sprawled +in the big willow rocker, his slippered feet resting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +on the porch rail. The huge body was crumpled into +an awkward posture, which was never changed, +once the history was begun. The curved wooden +pipe hung from his lips, black against the iron gray +cascade of beard, but he did not draw at it again, +after the opening-sentences from his granddaughter’s +lips. Plutina, looking down, perceived that +the folded hands, lying in his lap, were clenched so +strongly that the knuckles showed bloodless. Yet, +he made no movement, nor offered any word of +comment or of question. When the girl had made +an end, and sat waiting distressedly for his verdict, +he still rested mute, until the silence became more +than she could endure, and she cried out in pleading:</p> +<p>“Kain’t ye fergive me, Gran’pap?”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick turned, and looked reproachfully at +the distraught girl. A great tenderness shone from +the black eyes, in which age had not dimmed the +brilliance. As she saw the emotion there, a gasp +of rapturous relief broke from Plutina’s lips. The +stern restraints of her training were broken down in +that moment. She dropped to her knees by the old +man’s side, and seized his hands, and kissed them, +and pressed them to her bosom. He released one +of them presently, and laid it gently on the dusk +masses of his grandchild’s hair in silent blessing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +His voice, when at last he spoke, was softer than she +had heard it ever before.</p> +<p>“Why, Tiny, ye mustn’t be afeared o’ yer ole +gran’pap. I thinks a heap o’ my kin, an’ ye’re the +clusest. I loves ye gal—more’n anythin’ er anybody +else in the world, though I wouldn’t want Alviry to +hear thet. I hain’t mindin’ what ye done none. I’d +stan’ by ye, Tiny, if he had the hull cussed Gov’ment +at yer back. I hain’t got no likin’ fer revenuers, +but I got a heap less for Dan Hodges.”</p> +<p>He paused for a moment and lifted his hand +from the girl’s head to stroke the gray beard +thoughtfully, before he continued:</p> +<p>“I been thinkin’ a right-smart lot o’ things jest +lately. I ’low I’m a-gittin’ old, mebby. An’ I opine +as ’tween the revenuers and Dan Hodges, I hain’t +so much agin the Gov’ment as I was.”</p> +<p>Again, he fell silent, as if in embarrassment over +an admission so at variance with the tenets of a +lifetime. Then he spoke with sudden briskness:</p> +<p>“But ye’d orter a-killed the critter then an’ thar, +Tiny!”</p> +<p>“I jest somehow couldn’t, Gran’pap. I’m shore +sorry.” The girl felt poignant shame for the weakness +thus rebuked.</p> +<p>“I ’low I hain’t likely to have no sech feelin’s +a-holdin’ o’ me back,” Uncle Dick remarked, drily. +“Hit’s my foolishness bailin’ ’im out got us in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +pizen mess. I ’low I’ll cancel the bond. But, fust, +I’d have to take the skunk to the jail-house, dead er +alive. He’ll stan’ some urgin’, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“Ye’ll be keerful, Gran’pap,” Plutina exclaimed +anxiously, as she stood up.</p> +<p>“Now, don’t ye worrit none,” Uncle Dick ordered, +tartly. His usual rather dictatorial manner in the +household returned to him. “You-all run along. I +want to think.”</p> +<p>The girl went obediently. The reaction from +despair brought joyousness. Of a sudden, she became +aware of the blending perfumes of the wild +flowers and the lilting of an amorous thrush in the +wood. Her lids narrowed to dreamy contemplation +of the green-and-gold traceries on the ground, +where the sunlight fell dappled through screening +foliage. Fear was fled from her. Her thought flew +to Zeke, in longing as always, but now in a longing +made happy with hopes. There might be a letter +awaiting her from New York—perhaps even with +a word of promise for his return. She smiled, radiant +with fond anticipations. Then, after a word +of explanation to Alvira, she set off at a brisk pace +over the trail toward Cherry Lane.</p> +<p>The girl went blithely on her way, day-dreaming +of the time when Zeke should be come home to her +again. She stopped at the Widow Higgins’ cabin, +to receive felicitations over the escape of Uncle</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +<img src='images/illus-170.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 418px; height: 634px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 418px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +“WHEN ZEKE COMES HOME AGAIN.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></div> +<p>Dick from Fanny Brown. Plutina was not minded +to harass the older woman with the tale of Dan +Hodges. The outlaw’s threats against Zeke would +only fill the mother’s heart with fears, against which +she could make no defense. Otherwise, however, +the tongues of the two ran busily concerning the +absent one. And then, soon, Plutina was again +hurrying over the trail, which the bordering wild +flowers made dainty as a garden walk. Once, her +eyes turned southward, to the gloomy grandeur of +Stone Mountain, looming vast and portentous. The +blur of shadow that marked the Devil’s Cauldron +touched her to an instant of foreboding, but the +elation of mood persisted. She raised her hand, +and the fingers caressed the bag in which was the +fairy crystal, and she went gaily forward, smiling.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Uncle Dick, meantime, was busy with sterner +thoughts, and his task was harmonious to his musings, +for he was cleaning and oiling his rifle with +punctilious care. He did not hasten over-much +at either the thinking or the work. The shades of +night were drawing down when, finally, he hung +the immaculate weapon on its hooks. He ate in +solitary silence, served by Alvira, who ventured no +intrusion on this mood of remoteness with which +she was familiar from experience. The old man +had determined to go forth and seize, and deliver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +to the custody of the law, the person of Dan +Hodges. At the best, he would surprise the outlaw, +and the achievement would be simple enough; +at the worst, there would be a duel. Uncle Dick +had no fear over the outcome. He believed himself +quicker and surer with the rifle than this scoundrel +of half his years. At grips, of course he would +have no chance. But the affair would not come to +grips. He would see to that. He went to bed contentedly, +and slept the peaceful sleep of wholesome +age, undisturbed by any bickerings of conscience.</p> +<p>It was while he was dressing, next morning, that +a measure of prudence occurred to Uncle Dick. +During the period of his absence, it would be well +for Plutina to avoid risk by keeping in the cabin, +with her rifle at hand. There was no telling how +audacious the moonshiner might become in his rage +over the ignominy to which the girl had subjected +him.</p> +<p>At the breakfast-table, he spoke sharply to Alvira, +as she placed the plate of fried ham and eggs before +him.</p> +<p>“Tell Tiny, I’m a-wantin’ her.”</p> +<p>“Tiny hain’t hyar yit,” was the answer. “Hit’s +time she was.”</p> +<p>“Whar’s she gone!” Uncle Dick demanded, +gruffly. He detested any interruption of his plans.</p> +<p>“Tiny stayed over to the Widder Higgins’s las’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +night,” Alvira explained. “Hit’s time she come +back.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick snorted with indignation.</p> +<p>“She didn’t say nothin’ to me ’bout stayin’ over +thar,” he said crossly.</p> +<p>“Nor to me, nuther,” Alvira declared. “She +never does beforehand. When the Widder Higgins +kind o’ hangs on, Tiny jest stays, an’ comes back in +the mornin’. She orter been ’ere afore now.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick pushed away the plate of food, half-eaten. +Dread had fallen on him suddenly. He +tried to thrust it off, but the weight was too heavy +for his strength of will. Perforce he yielded to +alarm for the girl’s safety. A great fear was upon +him lest it be too late for the warning he had meant +to give. He growled a curse on his own folly in +not guarding against immediate attack by the outlaw. +It was with small hope of finding his apprehensions +groundless that he set forth at once, rifle +in hand, for the cabin of the Widow Higgins. There, +his fears were confirmed. The old woman had +seen nothing of Plutina, since the short pause on +the way to the post-office. Uncle Dick groaned +aloud over the fate that might have come on the +girl. He told enough to give the Widow Higgins +some understanding of the situation, and bade her +go to his own house, there to remain and to comfort +Alvira. For himself, he would first search over the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +Cherry Lane trail for any trace of his vanished +granddaughter, and thereafter raise the hue-and-cry +to a general hunt through the mountains for the +capture or killing of the villain, and the recovery +of the girl, dead or alive. Not for an instant did the +old man doubt that Hodges had done the deed.</p> +<p>Uncle Dick had no more than passed Luffman’s +Branch on his way over the Cherry Lane Trail, +when a joyous hail caused him to lift his eyes from +their close scrutiny of the beaten earth. Descending +the trail, a little way in front of him, appeared +the slender, erect form of the one-armed veteran. +The bridegroom moved with a jaunty step, and his +wrinkled features radiated gladness. But, as he +came near, his face sobered at sight of the other’s +expression. His voice was solicitous.</p> +<p>“I ’low somethin’ air wrong,” he ventured.</p> +<p>Uncle Dick in his distress welcomed the note +of sympathy. Somehow, he felt curiously drawn +to this successful rival, and he was sure that his +feeling was returned. Between the two men there +was a curious mutual respect, as if each relied on +the entire good sense of one who had loved Fanny +Brown. The older man craved a confidant; he was +avid for counsel and every possible assistance in +this emergency. He told the facts as concisely as +possible, while Seth Jones, wedded raptures forgot, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +listened in growing sorrow and dismay. At the +end, he spoke simply:</p> +<p>“I’ll take a look ’long with ye, Mister Siddon. I +done a heap o’ trackin’ in my time, out West. Perhaps, +I kin he’p ye some.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick put out his hand, and the two palms +met in a warm clasp, witness of friendship’s pact. +Forthwith, they gave themselves to minute examination +of the trail for any sign of the missing girl.</p> +<p>For a time, their patient search went unrewarded. +But, about a half-mile beyond Luffman’s Branch, +they came on an area still affected by one of the +small showers so frequent in the mountains. Here, +the veteran’s alert eyes distinguished a footprint +outlined in the damp dust.</p> +<p>“Yer gal was barefut, I reckon,” he said. He +pointed to the imprint just before where he was +standing.</p> +<p>“Yep,” Uncle Dick answered. There was a little +mist over his eyes, as he glanced down. “Yep; hit’s +her’n.”</p> +<p>The veteran went forward confidently now.</p> +<p>“She was a-steppin’ plumb brisk,” he declared; +“feelin’ pretty peart, I ’low; feet kind o’ springy-like.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick shivered at the words. He had a +ghastly vision of Plutina moving at this moment +with painfully dragging steps somewhere afar in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +the fastnesses of the mountains. But he said nothing +of the worst fears to his companion. He only followed +on, watching closely lest something escape +the other’s survey. Almost, he found himself hoping +they might come on the girl’s dead body. Death +is not the worst of evils.</p> +<p>After a mile, or a little less, the area of the +shower was passed. Uncle Dick could hardly distinguish +any sign of the footprints in the heavy dust +of the trail, but he accepted without question the +veteran’s assertion that they were easily perceptible +to the trained sight. Suddenly, Seth Jones halted, +and peered intently, stooping low. Uncle Dick, too, +bent to look, but the faint markings in the dirt were +without significance to him. The veteran moved to +the roadside and searched on hands and knees over +the yard of grass between the trail and a thicket. +When he stood erect again, he regarded his companion +inquiringly.</p> +<p>“They seem to be the tracks o’ some mighty-big, +hefty cuss, what come out o’ these-hyar bushes, an’ +tuk along arter her. Kin ye make a guess who hit +mout be, Mister Siddon?”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick’s face grew black with a rage that +was the more frightful because it had no object on +which to vent itself.</p> +<p>“Hit’s him!” he mumbled thickly, choking over +the effort for self-control. Abruptly, he abandoned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +the attempt. His big voice boomed forth in a torrent +of blasphemous imprecations. When, finally, he +rumbled into silence, and stood panting for breath, +the veteran, who had appeared to listen with great +interest and perhaps some pleasure, spoke soothingly:</p> +<p>“You-all was shore some eloquent, an’ I ’low the +ornery critter deserves every mite on hit. An’, anyhow, +I reckon ye done saved yerse’f a stroke. Ye +was a-lookin’ like ye’d bust, but ye let off the steam +a-cussin’ ’im out. Now, let’s see.” He went back +to the trail, and advanced very slowly, for the +markings were faint even to his skilled eyes. Uncle +Dick, trembling a little from the violence of his +outburst, followed faithfully, but he could no longer +detect traces of the passing of either man or +girl.</p> +<p>Thus, in slow progress, they came at last to the +fork of the trail. This is at the extreme easterly +slope of Bull Head Mountain, which rises from the +north side of the valley as if in sullen rivalry of +Stone Mountain below. In the division of the trail +here, one branch ascends toward Glade Creek, +across the mountain, while the other keeps on +straight to Cherry Lane. Within the fork of the +trails lies a fallen giant of the coves, a huge yellow +poplar, almost hidden along its length by the embowering +thickets. Toward this, in an advance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +tediously slow, the veteran made his way. When, +finally, he was come up to the great bole, he stood +quietly for minutes, gazing everywhere round +about. Uncle Dick, emulating his companion, +peered earnestly, and soon he, too, perceived the evidences +that something out of the ordinary had occurred +just here. Over a considerable space next +the trunk there were signs of a struggle. Broken +branches showed on some of the bushes; leaves +from the poplar shoots were lying on the grass; the +turf was freshly torn here and there. The veteran +bent over, and picked up an object from the ground, +which he held out. Uncle Dick gave one glance, +and uttered a cry of despair. He recognized it as +a button from the dress Plutina had been wearing +the day before.</p> +<p>The further search of the veteran achieved little. +He was able only to make sure that the footprints +led off through the forest toward the south. But, +now, the impressions were no longer of one following +the other. Instead, it was revealed that the +two walked side by side. Uncle Dick groaned as +his companion told him of this. Plutina had been +attacked; she had fought; she had been overcome—and +she was still alive!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI' id='CHAPTER_XVI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +</div> +<p>With the news of the event, a flame of +wrath swept through the coves. Everywhere, +the men gathered in parties, to +hunt, rifle in hand, for some trace of the outlaw. +There was none to give him favor, save the outcasts +numbered among his dependants. The usual +sympathy for the illicit distiller ceased utterly, destroyed +by hatred for the criminal’s final offense. +For the first time in the history of the mountains, +there was no voice raised to protest—nor any rifle +pointed in the laurel—against the Federal officers, +who wandered at will in the wild places. In execration +of Dan Hodges for his sin against the peace +and dignity of the community, the people forgot +for the nonce their ancient enmity against the Government. +With one accord, the folk of the mountains +joined in abhorrence of Hodges, sullenly +anxious to bring about his punishment, to avenge +his victim at least, if too late to save her.</p> +<p>Seth Jones turned from the joys of the belated +honeymoon to give every aid in his power. His +counsel and the comfort of his presence were boons +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +to Uncle Dick. The veteran had learned from his +bride concerning the disfavor in which Zeke was +held, and the reason for it. It seemed to him the +part of wisdom, in this crisis, to feign ignorance, +and he blandly suggested, on the return of the two +from the fallen poplar, that they should ride to +Joines’ store in the evening, there, over the telephone, +to dispatch a telegram to Zeke in New York. It +was the psychological moment for success. There +was not even a flicker of resentment aroused. Uncle +Dick remembered that the Quaker school-teacher +spy had been saved by Zeke from Dan Hodges. In +his new mood, that fact was enough to overcome +all rancor against the lad. Moreover, he realized +the tragedy of Plutina’s fate to her lover, and he +was moved to compassion. He accepted the veteran’s +suggestion without a word of remonstrance.</p> +<p>It was Seth Jones, too, who broke down the old +man’s last prejudice by persuading him to summon +Marshal Stone. Uncle Dick yielded with an odd +mingling of emotions—shame and relief: shame +over such trafficking with the “revenuers,” whom he +had consistently fought and despised through three +generations; relief that he had gained the strong +arm of the law to his side. He had been greatly +heartened when Stone answered over the wire that +he would set out with a posse at midnight for the +Siddon cabin, so that, after a conference there, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +active work of searching could be begun promptly +at dawn.</p> +<p>Thus, it came about that, for the first time in +history, Uncle Dick Siddon welcomed the sound of +hoofbeats pounding up the trail through the darkness. +Where, aforetime, he would have leaped to +wind a blast of warning to the moonshiners above +against the coming of the “revenuers,” the old man +now hastened to the cabin door, and flung it wide, +and went forth on the porch to give grateful +greeting.</p> +<p>When a council had been held, three parties set +forth. Seth Jones was the guide for one, which went +to the northeast, through the Bull Head Mountain +region, whither, in all likelihood, the outlaw would +make his way, if he meant to escape out of the +country. The marshal, with one companion, skirted +Stone Mountain. Uncle Dick led two of the posse +to the yellow poplar where the struggle had occurred, +after which they would follow the general +direction of the tracks. The marshal expected to +make a circuit of the mountain rapidly enough to +effect a junction with Uncle Dick’s party by noon, +at the Woodruff Gate. The veteran and his two +men, who would have by far the roughest going, +were not to report until sundown at the Siddon +cabin.</p> +<p>From the poplar, Uncle Dick and the deputies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +were able, with great difficulty, to follow the tracks +of the outlaw and his prisoner toward the south +for a full mile. But at this point, an expanse of +outcropping rock baffled them completely. Search +as they would, there was no least sign of footsteps +anywhere. After an hour of futile questing, they +gave up in despair, and hurried to the rendezvous +at the Woodruff Gate.</p> +<p>The marshal and his men had already reached +the gate, and Stone had wherewith to give the distraught +grandfather new hope.</p> +<p>“I came on their tracks a mile below where you +lost them,” he explained. “They still keep to the +south. We followed as far as the sand bar below +Sandy Creek Falls.”</p> +<p>“Come on!” Uncle Dick cried, fiercely. “Let’s +arter ’im this-yer minute.”</p> +<p>The marshal shook his head at the old man’s +enthusiasm.</p> +<p>“We’re not much better off yet,” he declared. “We +found the place where he camped last night. +’Twasn’t far. I reckon the girl made his going +as slow as she could. She naturally would.” Uncle +Dick nodded somberly. “But the trouble is, the trail +ends at the sand bar—ends absolutely.”</p> +<p>“We’ll find hit ag’in,” Uncle Dick exclaimed, +stoutly. “We jest got to find hit. Come on!”</p> +<p>The marshal urged the other to rest in preparation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +for the hard climb—down the ridge, and then +up the sharp slopes and ledges of the mountainside. +But the old man would have none of it. So, +straightway, the two moved off, leaving the others, +less hardy, to repose, and in due time they came to +the bar below Sandy Creek Falls.</p> +<p>High among the embattled cliffs of Stone Mountain’s +eastern end, Sandy Creek races in tumultuous +course. The limpid stream cascades in vertical +sheen of silver from ledge to ledge. It writhes with +ceaseless noisy complainings through the twisting +ways of bowlder-strewn gorges. Here and there, +in some placid pool, it seems to pause, languid, resting +from its revels of flight. Such a pool lay at the +foot of the longest fall. A barrier of sand circled +from the cliff as the brim for this bowl of the +waters. To this point, Marshal Stone and Uncle +Dick were now come. The tracks were plainly discernible +in the sand, along the edge of the pool. +There were the huge misshapen outlines of the outlaw’s +bare feet, deep-sunken from the heavy weight +of the man. Beside them showed the slender prints +made by the captive, lightly pressed. These tracks +followed the curving bar, along the water’s edge. +They reached to the foot of the cliff, close to where +was the outer edge of the cataract. There they +ceased.</p> +<p>The marshal, already familiar with the mystery, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +and baffled by it, searched again perfunctorily. +Uncle Dick hunted hither and yon with feverish +activity, at first confidently, then doubtfully, finally +in despair. He, in his turn, could find no further +clue. He gave over his efforts eventually, and stood +silent beside the marshal, staring bewilderedly. +About the amphitheatre formed by the pool, pines +grew in a half-circle, save where the narrow channel +of the stream descended. But between the barricade +of the trees and the basin of water lay the +smooth stretch of sand, slightly moist from out-flung +spray of the falls. Upon that level surface, +the tracks showed forth—undeniable, inexplicable. +They marched without deviation straight to the +base of the great cliff. There, within a little space, +they grew confused, as from much trampling. But +they did not return; they did not go elsewhere. +There was a clear distance of a rod over the sand to +the rocky ground where the trees grew. On the +other side lay the deeps of the pool. Before them +reared the impassible wall of the precipice. And +there the tracks ended.</p> +<p>Uncle Dick knew the place well, and on that account +the mystery was the greater. He could find +no possible explanation, however wildly improbable, +of that disappearance. The broad sheet of +the falls fell close to the cliff’s face. The rock was +unworn by the torrent, without recess or cavern. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +And that precipice, twice the pool’s width, mounted +sheer a hundred feet, the height of the cascade. The +front was unbroken save by tiny rifts and narrow +ledges, where dwarfed ground pines clung precariously. +With a muttered curse, the old man turned +from his vain contemplation of the cliff, and let his +troubled eyes rest on the pool. Suddenly, he +started. He remained motionless for a moment, +then, with nervous haste threw off his shirt, and +trousers. Marshal Stone, chancing to look that way, +was astonished to see his companion naked, poised +at the water’s edge. He had time to note with admiration +the splendid figure, still supple and strongly +muscled despite the four-score years. Then Uncle +Dick leaped, and dived. It was long seconds before +he reappeared, only to dive again. He paid no +attention to the marshal’s remonstrances. Only +when he was convinced of the uselessness of further +search in the pool’s depths, did he give over the task, +and cast himself down on the sand to rest, panting +and trembling a little from fatigue.</p> +<p>“They hain’t thar,” he said, with grim conviction. +Then he voiced the question that hammered in his +brain: “Whar be they?”</p> +<p>But the marshal had no answer.</p> +<p>As they made their way drearily back toward the +Woodruff Gate, the officer broke a long silence: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></p> +<p>“Only a blood-hound can trail them!”</p> +<p>The gloom of Uncle Dick’s expression did not +lighten.</p> +<p>“They hain’t nary one in the mountings,” he +answered, heavily.</p> +<p>“None nearer than Suffolk, Virginia,” the marshal +said. “Cyclone Brant has a couple of good +ones. But it would cost a lot.”</p> +<p>The old man flared.</p> +<p>“Fer God’s sake, git thet-thar feller an’ his +dawgs. I hain’t axin’ what hit ’ll cost. Hit was +my money got thet-thar damned cuss out o’ the +jail-house. I hain’t likely to begrudge anythin’ hit ’ll +cost to git him kotched. An’ Plutiny!—why, +money don’t matter none, if I can save Plutiny!”</p> +<p>“I’ll send for Brant to-night,” the marshal promised, +with new cheerfulness. “Let’s hope he’s not +off somewhere. They send for him all over the +country. If the dogs start day after to-morrow, +they’ll still find the scent.”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick groaned.</p> +<p>“An’ her a-lyin’ out with thet-thar wolf all thet +while,” he mumbled, in despair. “Mebby, this very +minute, she’s a-screamin’—callin’ to her ole gran’pap +to save her. My Plutiny!” He walked with +lagging steps; the tall form, usually so erect, was +bowed under the burden of tormenting fears. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +marshal, understanding, ventured no word of comfort.</p> +<p>It was late afternoon when the dispirited searchers +reached the Siddon clearing on their return +from the fruitless day’s work. There, they were astonished +to see the Widow Higgins come down the +path toward them, at a pace ordinarily forbidden by +her rheumatic joints. She waved a paper in her +hand.</p> +<p>“Hit’s a telegraph,” she called shrilly. Her voice +held something of the awe with which remoter +regions still regard that method of communication. +But there was a stronger emotion still that thus sent +the old woman dancing in forgetfulness of her +chronic pains. It was explained in her next sentence, +cried out with a mother’s exultation in the homecoming +of her beloved. Almost, in joy over seeing +her son again, she forgot the misery that was bringing +him.</p> +<p>“Hit’s from Zekie! Zekie’s comin’ home!”</p> +<p>Uncle Dick could not share the mother’s delight. +The lover’s coming could hardly avail anything +toward saving the girl. Nevertheless, he took the +sheet of paper, which carried the message sent on +by telephone from North Wilkesboro’ to Joines’ +store. He read it aloud, that the marshal might +hear: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></p> +<p style='margin-left:2.0em; margin-right:2.0em; text-align:right'>Suffolk, Va.<br /></p> +<p style='margin-left:2.0em; margin-right:2.0em; text-align:left'>Richard Siddon,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 2.0em;'>Joines’ Mill, N. C.,</span><br /> +<span style='margin-left: 4.0em;'>Via Telephone from North Wilkesboro’.</span><br /> +<span style='margin-left: 2.0em;'>Arrive to-night with bloodhound.</span><br /></p> +<p style='margin-left:2.0em; margin-right:2.0em; text-align:right'>Ezekiel.<br /></p> +<p>Uncle Dick’s voice faltered a little in the reading. +The black eyes were glowing with new hope +beneath the beetling white brows, as he lifted his +gaze to the mountain peaks. For the first time, he +felt a thrill of jubilation over the young man whom +he had rejected, whom now he accepted—jubilation +for the fresh, virile, strength of the lad, for +the resourcefulness that this message so plainly declared. +The old man’s lips moved in vague, mute +phrases, which were the clumsy expressions of +emotions, of gratitude to Providence for the blessing +of another’s energy, on which to lean in this +time of trial. There had been desperate need of +haste in getting the hounds on the trail. Now, they +were coming—to-night. Zeke was bringing them. +Perhaps, after all, an old man’s declining years +would know the fond tenderness of a daughter’s +care—and a son’s. Thank God that Zeke was coming!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII' id='CHAPTER_XVII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +</div> +<p>Zeke, in his new life, found little leisure for +loneliness, though nightly he fell asleep +with an ache of nostalgia in his heart, longing +for the mountains of home and the girl who +dwelt among them. But his days were filled with +various activities that held his whole attention. +With a mind keen and apt to receive impressions, +and hungry for knowledge, he gave himself joyously +to learning the details of Sutton’s tree-nail manufacture. +The processes were, in fact, simple, and +he mastered them with ease. Then, he was instructed +more broadly in business methods, with the +purpose of making him competent when he should +become a manager of the projected factory in the +Blue Ridge region. His time was thus so fully occupied +that he had neither opportunity nor inclination +for social pleasures.</p> +<p>He spent a week-end in his employer’s Long +Island home, and surprised that gentleman mightily +by the propriety of his manners, which he had acquired +on the yacht. On this occasion, Sutton spoke +definitely of his plans. The railroad branch north +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +from the main line was now a certainty, and the +construction would soon start. At that time, Zeke +would return to North Carolina, and set about securing +options on the best available timber. A mill +would be built, and the manufacture of tree-nails +carried on. Zeke, in addition to an adequate salary, +would receive a certain share of the profits. The +prospect was one to delight any ambitious young +man, and Zeke appreciated it to the full. But most +of all he rejoiced that his success should come to +him in the place he loved, where the girl waited.</p> +<p>Zeke had a companion, who shared with him +the tiny hall-room, and kept at his side in long evening +rambles through the city streets. It came about +in this wise:</p> +<p>It was one afternoon when he had been in New +York for a week, that a visitor entered, unannounced, +the office where he was listening intently +to Sutton’s crisp explanations of business +routine. Zeke looked up at the sound of the opening +door. Then, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened. +Next moment, he sprang to his feet, his face radiant +with welcome. His phrases, in the excitement +of this meeting, were the mountaineer’s idioms, +which new associations were beginning to modify +in his ordinary speech.</p> +<p>“Why, hit’s shorely Miss Josephine!” he cried, +as he advanced upon her, with outstretched hand. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +He saw the dog, straining toward him on the leash. +“An’ thet-thar man-faced dawg!”</p> +<p>There was a little interval of confusion, while +greetings were exchanged amid the demonstrative +antics of the bull-terrier. Sutton was called away +presently, and then the girl explained the object of +her visit.</p> +<p>“You never noticed it,” she said somewhat pettishly; +“but one time on the yacht, I came up on +deck with Chubbie. You were over by the rail. +You snapped your fingers to him. I ordered him +to stay with me. He wouldn’t mind. He went to +you. Well, I decided right then what I’d do.”</p> +<p>“Why, shucks, Miss Josephine!” Zeke exclaimed, +in much distress. “He jest nacherly didn’t mean +nothin’ by thet.”</p> +<p>“He showed something by it, though,” was the +retort. “He showed that he belonged to you, and +not to me. So, here he is.” She held out the leash +to Zeke, who took it doubtfully, only half-comprehending. +As he was about to speak, a gesture +checked him.</p> +<p>“I’m not really a bit generous in giving him to +you. My dog must like me better than anyone +else in the world. That’s why I really don’t want +Chubbie any longer. You’re first in his heart, and +I’m second. And, though I’m quite selfish about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +it, I know I’m doing him the greatest favor in the +world—that is, if you’re willing to take him.”</p> +<p>“I’d shore be tickled to death to have him,” Zeke +admitted. “But it don’t seem right.”</p> +<p>“Providence seems to have arranged it that way, +anyhow,” Josephine declared, airily. “Perhaps, if +a surgeon operated on him for the dent you put in +his skull, he might cease loving you. But nothing +else seems likely to stop him.”</p> +<p>The dog, thrusting its cold muzzle against Zeke’s +palm, whined assent. Josephine regarded her disloyal +pet a little regretfully.</p> +<p>“He’s a good dog,” she said, softly. “He deserves +to be happy.”</p> +<p>“Plutiny’ll be plumb tickled to see the critter I’ve +wrote sech a heap about,” Zeke remarked. His +eyes were suddenly grown dreamy.</p> +<p>“You and your Plutina!” she railed. But her +voice was very kindly. When she had learned of +the young man’s prospects and the nearness of his +return home, she uttered a remark that puzzled +Zeke.</p> +<p>“You don’t need to envy anyone.” There was a +light almost of jealousy in the blue eyes.</p> +<p>“Why, I never thought o’ sech a thing!” he +answered indignantly. “Why should I?”</p> +<p>“Why, indeed?” Josephine repeated, and she +sighed. She sighed again on taking leave, when she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +observed that the bull-terrier made no movement to +accompany her, but stood steadfastly by Zeke’s side.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Into the happy, busy routine of Zeke’s life in +New York, Uncle Dick’s telegram came with the +crash of catastrophe. It was merely with innocent +wondering that he opened the yellow envelope, +which a messenger delivered in Sutton’s office on a +pleasant summer afternoon. It was the first missive +of the sort in Zeke’s experience, yet he felt no +slightest chill of apprehension. His mood was too +firmly joyous to be easily shaken. He merely wondered, +and felt no fear whatever, as he pulled out +the sheet of flimsy paper, and unfolded it, while +his employer sat looking on curiously, himself already +suspicious of trouble. Zeke read the typewritten +words through stupidly, under the first +shock uncomprehending. Then, he repeated the +message aloud, as if challenging its meaning.</p> +<p>“Plutina been stolen,” ran the summons. “Dan +Hodges done it. Need help.”</p> +<p>The name of Richard Siddon as the sender in +itself told how desperate must be the situation, else +Uncle Dick would not have summoned the suitor +he had rejected. Zeke stared pitifully at Sutton. His +eyes had the pathos of a stricken animal’s. For a +little, he seemed dazed by the unexpectedness of +this evil. Then, very soon, rage mounted blackly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +Sutton, listening, could not repress a shudder before +the deadly hate in Zeke’s voice.</p> +<p>“I’ll kill Dan Hodges!” was the promise. The +voice was low and even, but it roared in the ears +of the listener. There was something terrifying in +the stark savagery that showed in the mountaineer’s +tones and in the drawn, pallid face.</p> +<p>But, after the one outburst, Zeke maintained an +appearance of hypocritical calm. Only in the tremulousness +of his voice when he thanked Sutton did +he betray the depth of his feeling.</p> +<p>In truth, he had new reason for gratitude in this +emergency to the man who already had so befriended +him.</p> +<p>“You’ll want to start at once, of course,” Sutton +said.</p> +<p>Zeke nodded assent.</p> +<p>“Well, I think I’ll go with you. Perhaps, I might +help. It’ll be better for you with somebody along.”</p> +<p>Zeke offered a protest, but it was disregarded.</p> +<p>“I know Plutina,” Sutton said, earnestly, “and I +know you, Zeke. I want to help. Now, I wonder—”</p> +<p>He fell silent for a space, thinking deeply. When +he spoke again it was with curt decisiveness:</p> +<p>“It’s hurrying things a bit, but not too much. I’ll +have you stay down there, Zeke, and get after the +timber as soon as you have Plutina back.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></p> +<p>Then, as the young man regarded him in bewilderment, +he explained fully:</p> +<p>“I’ve just heard a rumor that Grearson and +Company are going to send a man down there. I’ll +beat them to it. I meant to start you off in a month +or so. But you’ve learned all you need to here, +and it’s better to hurry, so as not to run any risk +of my competitors getting in ahead. We’ll get +away on the train to-night.”</p> +<p>So it came about that the two reached Norfolk +late in the afternoon of the following day, after +what had seemed to the tortured lover an eternity +of listless crawling toward the mountains. Now +Zeke felt no longer dismay over the rapid flight +of the train, as in his first journeying, but only a +fierce longing to cover the miles more swiftly. For +he appreciated how great was the crisis. Plutina +had written him of her part in the raid on +Hodges’ still, and she had expressed in some degree +the apprehensions she felt. Zeke was sure that, +somehow, Plutina’s betrayal of the still had become +known to the outlaw, and on this account the man +had sought vengeance. The lover sickened at the +thought of the form that brutal vengeance might +take. Often, Sutton, covertly watchful, averted his +glance that he might not see the despair on the +mountaineer’s face.</p> +<p>The two travelers were on their way to the ferry +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +in Norfolk, when inspiration came to Zeke: He +bethought him of Cyclone Brant, and the stag-hound, +Jack. A few words sufficed for explanation +of the matter to Sutton, who welcomed the idea of +securing such assistance for the search.</p> +<p>“I kin git ’im, if he’s home,” Zeke declared, eagerly. +“He lives in Suffolk, ’bout twenty miles toward +Wilkes. I’ll try an’ git ’im on the ’phone.”</p> +<p>In this, he was successful, and he was greatly +cheered by the anxiety displayed by Brant to be of +assistance. But the detective was distressed over +the delay of twelve hours that must ensue before +they could get a train to North Wilkesboro’. Sutton +removed this difficulty by ordering a special, +which should be made up at once, and should stop +at Suffolk to take on Brant and his dog. So, within +the hour, the three men and the hound were rushing +at rocking speed along the tortuous river course +that led into the mountains. Instructions had been +sent ahead, by Brant’s suggestion, to have an automobile +and driver in readiness for the arrival of +the party at the North Wilkesboro’ station.</p> +<p>The three men talked but little during the trip. +The tenseness of suspense held them in thrall, and, +for the most part, they sat in grim silence, staring +out of the windows at the swiftly flitting panorama +of moonlit landscape, wherein the fertile level areas +changed to narrowing valleys, and these, in turn, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +to wild gorges, where the river ran in bellowing riot +beneath lofty ramparts of stone. Sutton’s thoughts +veered from pity for his young friend to keen calculation +of profits to come from the locust timber of +the slopes. Cyclone Brant mused on his past adventurings +in these wilds. From time to time, he +pulled at the ears of the stag-hound, which sat on +its haunches in the aisle, balancing its big bulk elastically +against the erratic joltings of the car, and regarding +its master with patient adoration in the +reddened eyes.</p> +<p>Zeke, too, had the single comfort of a dog’s +faithful fondness. The bull-terrier crouched on the +seat beside its master. The squat-featured face was +thrust forward, with the heavy jaw resting on +Zeke’s lap. Often, the dog whined, with a soft, +whimpering note. It was as if the creature knew +its master’s grief, and wished to tell its sympathy. +There was a curious help to the young man’s courage +in the eager, caressing thrusts of the cold nose +against his palm. And he had need of every help, +even the least, for, in this period of inactivity, the +spirit within him was near to fainting. Because he +knew fully the depraved nature of Hodges, he +could not blind himself to the frightful peril of +Plutina in the outlaw’s power. The girl’s plight was +one to inspire horror in any decent breast; to the +lover, worshiping her as something ineffably holy, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +the possibility of her pollution by the brute who +had stolen her away was a thing too monstrous for +belief, yet not to be denied. He strove to drive the +hideous thought from his mind, but, ever, it crept +again into his consciousness. The sickness of his +soul found its only relief in bursts of fury against +the cause of this wickedness. His manhood asserted +itself in a primitive lust to torture and to destroy.</p> +<p>There were intervals of softer emotion, when he +lived again the sweet raptures of hours alone with +Plutina in the mountain solitude. But the moods of +retrospection were short, perforce. They weakened +him too greatly. The very heart seemed to flow +from him like water, as memories crowded. The +contrast of the present was too hideous for endurance. +Again, the ghastly despair—the black rage, +the whining of the dog, and the thrust of the cold +muzzle to distract for a moment. Then, once more, +the agonizing round.</p> +<p>The grinding of brakes, as the train drew to a +standstill at North Wilkesboro’, came as a poignant +relief to the three travelers. Even the dogs seemed +to relax from strain, and a covert hostility, which +had marked their first meeting, vanished while they +sniffed at each other in inquisitive, friendly fashion.</p> +<p>The automobile was in waiting. Zeke jumped in +beside the driver. The bull-terrier was held firmly +between his legs. Sutton, Brant and the hound established +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +themselves in the tonneau. Within a minute +after the stopping of the train, the car was rolling +rapidly over the highway toward Joines’ mill. +The chauffeur made the best speed possible under +Zeke’s urging, and the run was short.</p> +<p>Beyond the mill, the trail branching off the main +road was rough and narrow, traversed only by +horsemen and the clumsy vehicles of the mountaineers. +No automobile had ever passed over it, and +the party had planned to secure mounts at the mill, +and to continue the journey on horseback. Zeke, +however, realized the advantage in continuing by +machine, were this possible, and he suggested it to +the driver. The man was doubtful, but, too, he was +an enthusiast in his work, and the opportunity of +thus climbing the mountains, where no other car +had been, appealed strongly to his ambition. In +the end, he consented, with a prudent stipulation +concerning possible damages. So, without pause, +the automobile shot forward past mill and store, and +went clambering along the trail toward the northern +coves. The driver ran cautiously enough, despite +Zeke’s impatience, but, at the best, the trip was a +strain on the men and on the mechanism that bore +them, for the car lurched and bounced over the +uneven surface, and more than once was near to +being overturned. Their ultimate safety was due, +in great measure, to Zeke himself. Familiar with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +every foot of the way, he was able to advise the +chauffeur of the more dangerous points. Neither +Sutton nor Brant had uttered a word of protest +against undertaking the perils of this final stage, but +both breathed a sigh of relief, when, at last, the car +stopped in the clearing before the Siddon cabin, and +the journey was safely done.</p> +<p>The wooden wheels of the poplar clock in the +cabin were whirring for the striking of midnight, +when their noise was overborne by the grotesque, +unfamiliar honkings of an automobile horn. With +the second of the three blasts, the cabin’s door +swung open, and in the light of it was silhouetted +the tall form of Uncle Dick.</p> +<p>“Zeke!” he called; and his voice was a little +broken.</p> +<p>Then, with instinctive delicacy of feeling, he +stepped aside, as the young man sprang up the +steps, and he stood silent, while mother and son +were folded in each other’s arms, murmuring endearments. +But, when Zeke at last turned to face +the old man, Uncle Dick’s hand went out to a powerful +clasp that told how profoundly he was moved.</p> +<p>“I’m glad ye’ve come, boy,” he said, simply. And +Zeke knew that the old distrust and suspicion were +gone forever, and in their stead were come affection +and faith.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII' id='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Zeke was astounded when he looked around +the living-room and recognized Marshal +Stone, together with the members of the +posse. He suddenly became aware that the change +in Uncle Dick was even greater than he had supposed. +There had been a radical readjustment of +the old man’s’ attitude toward life, which disposed +him not only to acceptance of Zeke with affection +and confidence, but also to toleration of, and alliance +with, the “revenuers,” whom he had so consistently +hated through a long lifetime. Zeke refrained +however, from any open expression of his +amazement, and at once joined the other men in +devising a plan of operations to be begun at dawn.</p> +<p>It was decided that Uncle Dick should accompany +the marshal and Brant, with the stag-hound, to the +tracks of Hodges and Plutina on the north face of +Stone Mountain, near Sandy Creek, where the dog +could take up the scent, in the hope of solving the +mystery that had baffled the human searchers.</p> +<p>Then Uncle Dick interposed a suggestion that +suited Zeke well. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p> +<p>“If so be,” he exclaimed abruptly, “as how Dan +Hodges is atop thet-thar mounting, an’ he gits the +dawg nigh the precipice, he might throw the critter +over. He’s powerful strong, Dan is, an’ desprit.”</p> +<p>“Yes, the fellow’s capable of it,” Stone agreed.</p> +<p>“I’m a-thinkin’ as hit mout be well fer Zeke to +git atop the mounting fust off,” Uncle Dick continued, +“an’ watch out fer Hodges. Hit’s pretty open +up thar, and easy to waylay a body.”</p> +<p>“I’ll go,” Zeke declared, with eagerness.</p> +<p>The marshal directed the men of the posse to +scatter to various points on the railway lines.</p> +<p>“Hodges’ll probably try to get out of the country, +the minute he hears the hound after him,” Stone +explained. “All of my men have seen him, and +they’ll be able to stop him, if he manages somehow to +cover his scent from the dog, and get off.”</p> +<p>Sutton, much against his will, was forced to remain +inactive at the cabin as he was not physically +fitted for the hard tramping over the mountains.</p> +<p>Zeke was the prey of emotions too deep to permit +much interest in a stranger, but he had a friendly, +if wan, smile for the veteran, whom he remembered +from their single meeting. He attempted a +display of attention on hearing of the marriage so +recently achieved, but the effort failed pitifully. +Seth Jones, however, took no offence, since he understood +how great must be the young man’s misery. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +On the contrary, his sympathies were deeply +stirred, and he essayed a few words meant to comfort.</p> +<p>“An’ I reckon I’ll go ’long with you-all, Zeke, in +the mornin’,” he concluded.</p> +<p>But Zeke shook his head at the offer.</p> +<p>“I got to cross over home fer my rifle-gun,” he +explained, vaguely.</p> +<p>“I clean fergot to tell ye,” Uncle Dick cried. “Yer +rifle-gun’s hyar, Zeke. I done fotched it over fer +ye.”</p> +<p>“Thank ye, Uncle Dick,” was the grave response. +But the young man did not rescind his refusal of +the veteran’s company.</p> +<p>Uncle Dick offered a share of his bed to Brant +and the marshal, but it was refused by both. There +were blankets spread for the men on the floor of +the porch, where the smoke gushed from a smudge +kettle to keep off the mosquitoes. There, presently, +the company stretched themselves for the brief +dreamless sleep won by the day’s fatigues.</p> +<p>Even Zeke fell into a sound slumber, with the +bull-terrier nestled at his breast. He had not thought +to sleep, only to lie quiet for a little rest, and then, +long before the dawn, to issue forth alone. Nevertheless, +his repose was profound for two hours, or +more. Perhaps, the stirring of the dog awoke him; +perhaps, his own determination, subconsciously +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +exerted. Anyhow, he straightened up suddenly, and +stared about him stupidly, reluctant to believe that +he had actually slept thus, while Plutina cried out +for succor. He was relieved when he perceived +that there was not yet even a trace of dawn in the +east. He realized that it was as well, for though he +had lost little time, he felt vitally refreshed, with +new vigors to battle in behalf of the girl he loved. It +was but the work of a minute noiselessly to possess +himself of his rifle, and to descend the steps. The +bull-terrier kept close at his heels. With the dog +still following, Zeke, pressed forward through the +darkness toward Stone Mountain.</p> +<p>The other sleepers were aroused by Uncle Dick +as the first gray light was flushing to the rose of +dawn over the eastern mountains. There was some +astonishment at finding Zeke already gone, but it +subsided quickly, for all understood how great must +be his anxiety. The men of the posse duly took +their departure for the railway points designated by +the marshal. Seth Jones set out in pursuit of Zeke. +Stone, with Uncle Dick and Brant, made ready for +the actual hunting of the outlaw.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen Jack more than once pick up a cold +trail three days old,” the hound’s master declared, +with a manifest pride in the creature’s prowess; “and +run down his man. Can we get hold of something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +to give him the scent—an old shoe, or cap—anything?”</p> +<p>“Got jest the thing fer ye,” Uncle Dick replied, +leading the way from the cabin toward one of the +out-buildings. “Hit’s an ole coat. Dan left hit one +hot day when he stopped in at my forge, to tinker +the rivets to the cap o’ the still. Hit was dum hot +thet day, an’ he left ’is coat. ’Twa’n’t wuth comin’ +back fer. I ’low the smell’s about all thet’s left +to hit.”</p> +<p>Brant showed the tattered garment to the stag-hound, +and bade the animal smell it. The dog sniffed +obediently a few times, sneezed as if in disgust of +the odor, regarded its master understandingly, and +then walked away.</p> +<p>“That’s all that’s necessary,” Cyclone Brant declared. +“The dog and I are ready.”</p> +<p>Forthwith, the three men, with the hound, set +forth toward the southeast, to cut the track of the +outlaw near Sandy creek. They followed the trail +to a point some distance beyond the Woodruff +Gate, and then left it to ascend the precipitous +slopes near the eastern end of Stone Mountain. +They were not far from Sandy Creek Falls, when +the marshal halted, and pointed out the remains of +a camp-fire.</p> +<p>“This is where Hodges stopped to cook his supper +the first night,” he explained. “I followed the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +tracks on to the creek, and up it to the falls, where +I lost them. Now, it’s up to the dog.”</p> +<p>A growl from the hound caused the three to look +up, startled. There was an exclamation from Uncle +Dick, and the rifle leaped to his shoulder.</p> +<p>“No, no—don’t shoot!” Stone ordered. He, too, +had seen and recognized Garry Hawks, as the fellow, +evidently disconcerted by their presence there, +slipped stealthily into the laurel. “He’ll be more +useful to us alive presently,” he explained to Uncle +Dick, who had obeyed protestingly.</p> +<p>“Thet’s so, likely,” the old man conceded grudgingly. +Then he chuckled harshly, for the first time +since Plutina’s disappearance. “Got his right wing +slung up! Did ye see hit? Tiny done hit—pore +gal! Purty peart at shootin’, Tiny is. Thet-thar—”</p> +<p>“There’s a fresh track here made by Hodges,” +the marshal exclaimed, interrupting. He pointed +to a plain imprint on the dirt covering of a flat +rock.</p> +<p>Brant brought his dog to the spot, pointed to the +footprint, and slipped the leash. The hound lowered +its head, snuffed at the ground, and gave tongue. In +the same second, it was off at speed, running with +muzzle low, with the continuous whining yelps that +told of a warm scent. It did not vanish into the +coverts as all had expected, but followed through +the open place that led to the northward, skirting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +the wood. As the men hurried after, they caught +a final glimpse of the dog two hundred yards beyond, +just disappearing over a ridge. They followed +the sound of its baying with what haste they might, +yet slowly, by reason of the difficult going. The +dog’s cries guided them, much to the surprise of +Uncle Dick and the marshal, straight toward Sandy +Creek Falls, whither the first tracks of the outlaw +and the girl had led, and where they had been so +mysteriously lost. As the three scrambled up a +steep ascent, scarcely a hundred yards from the +sand-bar, there came to their ears from the hound +a high, melancholy howl.</p> +<p>“It means that Jack is at fault, somehow,” Brant +explained in answer to a grunt of inquiry from +Uncle Dick. “Something puzzling him for a minute.”</p> +<p>The two listeners looked at each other with grave +faces. Was it possible, they wondered, that the +hound would be baffled, even as they had been, there +at the pool? But their expression lightened the next +moment, for two sharp, harsh barks came from the +dog, which was evidently still in the neighborhood +of the falls, and its master interpreted:</p> +<p>“Jack’s treed his game, sure’s you’re born!”</p> +<p>The three topped the ridge, and broke into a +run down the slope, their rifles at the ready. Within +the minute, they leaped from the thicket into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +open place below the falls. Then, with one accord, +they stopped short and stood staring bewilderedly.</p> +<p>The hound continued its deep-chested baying. +It stood erect on its hind legs, almost to a man’s +height. It was supported by its fore-paws extended +as far up as they would reach against the wall of +the precipice, a little to the left of the waterfall. As +it barked, the dog held its muzzle pointed straight +upward. There could be no doubt, if the sensitiveness +of the brute were to be relied on, that its quarry +had, in some incomprehensible fashion, contrived +to mount the sheer surface of the cliff. That the +hound was sure, was made plain by the rigidity of its +posture, by the fierce, challenging ululations, which +pealed forth incessantly.</p> +<p>The three men went forward presently, their gaze +wandering aloft from the dog, over the inaccessible +expanse of vertical cliffs. They came down to the +sand-bar, and followed it around the pool, still in +silence, and still with their puzzled eyes roving hither +and yon for some clue to understanding of this +thing. But, of a sudden, Uncle Dick shouted:</p> +<p>“I see how ’tis! I shorely kotch on. Looky +thar!”</p> +<p>The marshal and Brant followed the direction of +his pointing arm, but they saw nothing to make the +matter clear—only a tiny ledge, fifty feet above +them, along which grew a few bushes and clumps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +of ground pine. It offered no hiding-place for a +child even, hardly footing for the outlaw’s heavy +bulk. But Uncle Dick shook his head to rebuke +their lack of comprehension, then explained:</p> +<p>“Dan’s a keen un, all right,” he said, with grudging +admiration. “But this-hyar time he’s done +left ’is mark fer my ole eyes to see. Now, you-all +jest throw yer eyes o’ vision up the side o’ the cliff +ag’in. If ye looks cluss, ye kin see a streak o’ +dampness on the rock. Hit’s jet as if a mounting +rattler mout ’a’ dove down the rock right thar. But +’twa’n’t thet. Thet-thar streak is the mark of a +wet rope—er mebby a grape-vine. Thet’s the way +them devils git up an’ down. I’ll bet every stick o’ +my mounting timber them cusses got a cave up +thar, offen the ledge. P’rhaps Garry Hawks jest +got up, since we-uns seen ’im. An’ the rock hain’t +had time to dry from the rope, er vine, a-gittin’ wet +in the falls. Dan Hodges thought he had a mighty +cute place to lay out in. But he’s kotched jest the +same—damn ’im!... Good dawg!” The +change in Uncle Dick’s voice as he spoke the last +two words was startling.</p> +<p>The two listeners accepted the old man’s solution, +but they did not share his enthusiasm. On the +contrary, they were very grave, for the task before +them appeared formidable, if not impossible, of +achievement. As they continued silent, gazing upward +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +with frowning faces, Uncle Dick regarded +them at first in perplexity, then in rapidly-mounting +apprehension.</p> +<p>“What’s a-bitin’ on ye?” he demanded, at last.</p> +<p>The marshal replied.</p> +<p>“There’s no way of getting them out of there. +They’re armed and not particular about murder. +They can hold that fort till kingdom-come. Dan +could alone. There’s nothing for it but to starve +’em out—if they’re there.”</p> +<p>“And the trouble about that is,” Brant added, +“that they’ve got the girl for hostage. It seems to +me that this Dan Hodges has the whip-hand.”</p> +<p>For a little, Uncle Dick, who had paled under the +tan, stood silent, looking helplessly from one to the +other of his companions. Then he groaned aloud. +But in the next instant, he straightened to his full +height. His face grew convulsed with rage, as he +faced the cliff, and his great voice volumed above +the clamor of the cataract:</p> +<p>“God A’mighty damn ye, Dan Hodges! Damn +ye—damn ye!”</p> +<p>And then again:</p> +<p>“Damn ye, Dan Hodges, ferever an’ ferever!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX' id='CHAPTER_XIX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +</div> +<p>Plutina’s treatment of Hodges had had a +curious effect on that lawless character. +The humiliation to which he had been subjected +had indeed filled him with vicious rage, but, +too, it had inflamed his passion for the girl. Her +scorn and her fierce mastery of him had made her +more than ever desirable. He was fascinated by the +strength and courage she had displayed. Brutal and +evil as he was, Hodges was strong physically, and, +in his own wicked way, strong of will. Because he +was stronger than his fellows, he ruled them. +Strength was, in fact, the one thing that he could +admire. The revelation of it in Plutina at once +set her apart from all other women, and gave to +his craving for her a clumsy sort of veneration. +But that veneration was strangely modified by resolve +to be avenged for the insult she had put upon +him. Thus, it had come about that he planned to +satisfy his varied feelings toward the girl by the +abduction. He swore to master her, to change her +insolence to fawning submission, to abject fondness.</p> +<p>Hodges wasted no time. His sluggish brain began +its scheming the moment a turn in the trail hid +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +him from view, after the ignominious march from +the Holloman Gate. At sunrise, next morning, he +was lurking on the borders of the Siddon clearing, +spying on the movements of the family. He even +witnessed Plutina’s confession to her grandfather, +of which he guessed the purport, and at which he +cursed vilely beneath his breath. When Plutina +set forth for the Cherry Lane post-office, he followed, +slinking through the forest at a safe distance +from the trail. He was not quite certain as to +where or when he should attack the girl, but he +meant to seize the first favorable opportunity, +whether it came sooner or later. It came, as a +matter of fact, very soon, and it was given by Plutina +herself.</p> +<p>There at the fallen poplar, the girl found a comfortable +nook on the big trunk, where her back was +supported by a limb. The serenity of the scene +soothed her over-wrought nerves. The sense of +relief that had come from confession to her grandfather +was less vivid now. In its stead was a +blessed peacefulness. She watched lazily the visible +details of forest life around about her. Her attention +centered finally on a yellow-hammer, which +was industriously boring the trunk of a dead chestnut. +From the nest near-by, the callow young +thrust naked heads, with bills gaping hungrily. +Then, in a twinkling, birds and forest vanished, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +she was standing on the mist-strewn steeps of Stone +Mountain, and Zeke’s arm was about her, and her +hand was clasped in his. So, she slept, and smiled +a little in her dreams, for the touch of the breeze +on her cheek seemed the caress of her lover’s lips. +From his lair in the laurel, Dan Hodges, watching, +knew that his opportunity was come. The outlaw +laid down his rifle, and drew from a pocket a stout +leash of cowhide, a yard long. Glancing from time +to time at his intended victim, to see that she still +slept, he hastily fashioned a slip-noose at either +end of the thong. This done, he began moving +forward with the utmost caution, taking advantage +of the cover, that he might remain invisible should +the girl awake. He held the leash in his two hands +ready for instant action. A slight detour brought +him around the stump of the poplar, just behind +Plutina. Advancing with even increased carefulness +now, he approached until the girl was easily +within his reach. As she reclined on the tree-trunk, +her left hand hung at length on the side next to +him. The right arm was bent along the supporting +branch, and the hand pillowed her cheek. After a +moment of doubt, Hodges decided that he would +attempt to secure the free wrist in a noose of the +leash without awakening her. It would be easy +then to catch and bind the other wrist. In the confusion +of sudden rousing from sleep, she would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +make no effective resistance. The capture would +be very simple.</p> +<p>It was, in truth, tragically simple, yet not so +simple as the outlaw had anticipated. From dreams +of tenderness, Plutina was suddenly started to hateful +realization by the scarcely perceptible touch of +this being so repugnant to her every instinct. She +was confused, indeed, but not too confused for +frantic resistance. It needed no more than recognition +of the man’s brutal face so close to hers to +inspire her. She fought him with every ounce of +her strength. The left hand was useless, held down +by his on the thong, with the noose drawn taut about +the wrist. But the outlaw, though he contrived to +get the other noose over her right hand, failed somehow +to tighten it at once. She was able to strike +at him again and again. Her blows fell on his +face, and they were sturdy blows. Hodges made +no effort to avoid them, nor struck back—only busied +himself with the effort to tighten the noose. It +was evident that he disdained her attack. A certain +virile pride forbade defense against this onslaught +of a girl. Finally, he brought his left hand +to aid in adjusting the second noose. In the few +seconds of liberty, Plutina abandoned blows, and +resorted to savage clawing at the evil face. Her +ten nails streaked the coarse features with blood. But +still he seemed absolutely indifferent to such wounds +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +as she could inflict. Then, the noose slipped to +tightness. The girl’s hands were brought close together +behind her back, where she stood beside him. +He knotted the slack of the leash, and holding the +loop, grinned triumphantly at his captive. His +bloody face was a mask of malice.</p> +<p>“Ye damned little wildcat,” he growled, yet with +an unmistakable note of admiration in his voice, +“if I sarved ye ’cordin’ to yer earnin’s, I’d shorely +tap ye over thet-thar purty haid o’ your’n, an’ pitch +ye over into the Devil’s Kittle, to wait fer yer runt +lover to come arter ye.” He twisted her about +viciously. Despite her strength, unusual in a +woman, Plutina was powerless in his grip. Holding +her close, face to face, he contemplated the girl’s +pitiable distress with gloating eyes in which there +was no faintest suggestion of pity. The prisoner +met the malignant gaze for an instant. Then, her +eyes fell, and she stood trembling. She was panting, +partly from terror, partly from the violence +with which she had struggled. Hodges chuckled, +well content over the impression he had made. He +would show her how a woman should be tamed! +But the thing must be done in full accord with a +plan he had made. Now that the captive had duly +learned her first lesson in submissiveness, he might +relax a little from his severity for a time. Besides, +too much fright might leave her helpless on his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +hands, which would be highly inconvenient, since +there was a rough journey on foot before them. +When he next spoke, he tried, without much success, +to make his voice conciliatory.</p> +<p>“Thar hain’t no call fer ye to be so dum skeery—leastways, +not yit. I hain’t a-hurtin’ ye none—not +yit—only jest a-tyin’ yer han’s to keep ’em out +o’ mischief. But I reckon as how ye’ll hev to eat +them words ye spoke to me at the gate yistiddy. I +’low ye done forgot the warnin’ I gin ye ’bout playin’ +Dan Hodges fer a fool. Ye’re lookin’ mighty +sorry ye ever tried hit.” He chuckled again, as he +meditated a humorous effort: “Ye know thet pore +feller what ye winged yistiddy?” He shook his +head reprovingly. “You-all shore hadn’t orter +never ’ave done no sech thing. Garry wa’n’t a-bitin’ +on ye none. He’s hurt bad, Garry is, an’ he +needs a nuss the worst way, Garry does. An’ so I +come an’ got ye.” He guffawed over his wit. “If +ye’ll behave I’ll let loose o’ ye a mite, an’ we’ll +stroll along a matter of a few mile to whar Garry’s +waitin’ awful impatient.”</p> +<p>Suddenly, unreasoning fear surged up in Plutina, +brimmed over in a torrent of pleading words. +She knew the uselessness of appeal to this callous +wretch. But the instinct of terror in her horrible +situation mastered the girl, so that she forgot pride, +and besought his mercy. She was ghastly pale, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +the dilated eyes were almost black, with a stricken +look in their clouded depths. Her voice was shaking.</p> +<p>“Lemme go Dan—lemme go. Ye’ve done got +even with me now fer yistiddy. Lemme go—I ax it +of ye, Dan. I done ye dirt yistiddy, ’cause I was +scared o’ ye. An’ I’m scared o’ ye now, Dan. +Lemme go home, an’ I won’t never tell nobody how +ye kotched me.”</p> +<p>She had raised her eyes beseechingly. Now, as +she saw the smug mockery on her captor’s face, she +fell silent. The futility of any pleading was too +plain. Her eyes shifted to the ground again. But +the first wild fear was past, and she began to think +with some clearness. At once, it occurred to her +that she must guard her strength jealously. She +had already wasted too much in vain physical struggling +and in vainer emotional outbursts. She must +save her energies henceforth both of body and of +mind, that she might have wherewith to contrive, +escape and wherewith to accomplish it, or wherewith +to fight against a lustful brute to the very death.</p> +<p>Hodges spoke approval.</p> +<p>“Ye’re gittin’ sense. Better save yer breath to +cool yer porrich, stid o’ wastin’ hit a-whinin’ to +me. But I shore admire fer to hear ye squawk. +Ye hain’t quite so damned uppitty as ye was yistiddy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span></p> +<p>“I ’low I must do what ye says,” Plutina agreed, +listlessly. She felt very weary, now that the reaction +was upon her. At whatever cost, she must +have an interval in which to recover from this +weakness.</p> +<p>“Thet’s the ticket!” Hodges exclaimed, with a +jovialty meant to be winning. He went behind her, +and loosened the knot he had last tied, so that her +wrists, although still fast bound, had a little play. +The length of the loop allowed him to move by her +side with it over his arm. “You-all jest mosey +acrost to thet-thar birch clump,” he directed, pointing. +“I got a rifle-gun yender, what I kain’t noways +do without.”</p> +<p>Plutina walked obediently at his side in the direction +indicated, and stood passively while he +picked up the weapon. Then, in response to his +command, she set off with him through the tortuous +forest paths to the southward.</p> +<p>For the time being, Plutina’s dominant emotion +was a vast depression. It bore down on her like a +physical burden, under which she had hardly the +power to go forward with slouching steps. It was +as if the end of the world were come, with the loss +of everything good and clean and happy. The only +reality was this foul creature to whom she was +bound, from whom there was no escape, who had +but to speak and she must obey, who had the authority +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +to compel obedience. She was sick with horror +of the man’s nearness. She felt defilement from the +avid eyes, which moved over her in wanton lingering +from head to foot, and back again. But she had +no resource against him. She could only endure +for the present, awaiting the return of strength. +She could see no glimmer of hope anywhere. Yet, +she strove numbly against this enveloping despair. +She told herself again and again that, somehow, +relief would come before the dreaded crisis. The +words were spiritless; they brought no conviction. +Nevertheless, she kept repeating them mutely to herself, +as she trudged drearily beside Hodges toward +Stone Mountain.</p> +<p>“I’ll git clar o’ him somehow—I will, I will! +Gran’pap’ll kill ’im! Zeke’ll come! He will!”</p> +<p>It was incredible that her lover could come, that +he could even know of the evil, until too late to +save her. Yet, the thought of his coming subtly +cheered her. It persisted in defiance of all reason. +And the affrighted girl clung to it with desperate +tenacity, as a drowning man to the life line. She +kept repeating to herself, “Zeke’ll come! He will, +he will!” as if the phrases were a spell for the +soothing of terror. She wished that her hands +were free to touch the fairy crystal in her bosom.</p> +<p>The outlaw, after uncouth efforts at conversation, +which met with no response, relapsed into sullen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +silence, and he mended the pace until the girl was +hard put to it to keep up with his stride. On the +first slopes of Stone Mountain, he halted, evidently +at a spot where he had camped on other occasions, +for presently he produced a skillet and coffee-pot +and materials for a rude meal from their concealment +in the bushes. But his first care was to place +the prisoner on a log, where a sapling at her back +served for attaching the loop of the leash. He +then busied himself with making a fire and preparing +the food, from time to time jeering at the helpless +girl, who watched him with smouldering hate +in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Hit’s you-all orter be a-doin’ these-hyar chores,” +he declared, with a grin. “An’ they’s a good time +a-comin’ when ye’ll be plumb tickled to death to +wait on yer Danny boy. A good time comin’, cuss +ye!”</p> +<p>He devoured his food ravenously, washing it +down with the coffee. Finally, he brought slices of +bread and bacon to Plutina, and laid them in her +lap. He loosened her right hand and so permitted +her to feed herself. It was her impulse to refuse +the offering, but she resisted the folly, knowing +the necessity of food, if she would have energy +for the ordeal before her. So, she gulped down the +bread and meat, and drank from the dipper full +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +of coffee. Then, her bonds were tightened again, +and the two renewed their march.</p> +<p>The going was harder here, up and down the +rock-strewn slopes. Fatigue lay very heavy on +Plutina, after the strains of the two days. Only +her hate of the man at her side bolstered up pride, +so that she compelled herself to keep moving by +sheer force of will. It was already dusk, when, +at last, they issued from the wood and went forward +over the shore of the pool at Sandy Creek +Falls.</p> +<p>“Wall, hyar we be!” Hodges cried loudly. There +was satisfaction in his voice.</p> +<p>That satisfaction aroused Plutina from the +apathy into which she had fallen, during the last +half-mile of difficult scrambling, made more toilsome +by the constraint of her bound wrists. Now, +puzzlement provoked interest in her surroundings. +She had expected that the outlaw would bear her +away to the most convenient or the most inaccessible +of the various secret retreats with which +rumor credited him. But here was neither cave +nor shack—only the level space of sand, the mist-wreathed +pool, the rushing volume of the falls, the +bleak wall of the cliff which towered above them +where they had halted at its base. She knew this +place. There could be no cavern at hand. Her +eyes searched the space of the inclosure wonderingly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +Then, they went to the man, whom she +found regarding her bewilderment with a smirk +of gratification.</p> +<p>“Hyar we be, right on the door-step, so to say,” +he bellowed. “If ye kain’t see the door-step yit, +ye will mighty quick, unless thet pore feller ye shot +has gone an’ died a-waitin’ fer you-all to come an’ +nuss ’im.... Yep, he was a-watchin’, all right,” +he added briskly. “Hyar hit comes!”</p> +<p>Plutina’s eyes followed her captor’s and, far +above, she made out something that dangled from +the slight break in the cliff. It descended slowly +and jerkily, with haphazard gyrations. As its end +drew closer, she perceived that it was a rudely +constructed rope-ladder, with wooden rungs. She +watched it fascinated, shivering with new fears.</p> +<p>When the flimsy means of ascent hung at its full +length, Hodges bade the girl climb. Unnerved as +she already was, the ordeal of such a progress to +the mysterious height above seemed too terrible. +She refused mutely, shaking her head, and cowering +away from the outlaw as far as the thong permitted. +But the man had no pity for her timorousness.</p> +<p>“You-all kin jest nacherly crawl up thet-thar +ladder,” he announced, “or we’ll sling ye on the +end of a rope, an’ h’ist ye. Thet’ll tumble ye +round an’ bump ye agin the rocks quite some. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +ye’re the doctor. If ye’ll climb up, I’ll leave yer +han’s loose, an’ foller cluss behind ye, so ye kain’t +fall. Hit’s shore wobbly, but hit’s safe. Dan +Hodges hain’t aimin’ to git his neck broke—ner +to let the law break it fer him!” he added, in a +lower tone to himself.</p> +<p>But Plutina caught the words. She made nothing +of them at the time; afterward, she realized +their significance, and thanked God for them.</p> +<p>In the end, the prisoner yielded to necessity and +ventured to mount with reluctant slowness. She +found, to her intense relief, that the strength was +returning to her body. She no longer felt the +pervasive lassitude. The physical improvement reacted +on her mind to restore confidence in her +powers. She realized that probably the only danger +lay in her own faltering, and she resolved to +overcome her natural dread, to bend all her +energies to a safe performance of the task. Despite +her hatred of the man, she found unspeakable +comfort in the sight of his great hairy hands +clutching the ropes on either side of her at the +height of her waist. But, as she mounted, the space +beneath grew fearsome to her, and she raised her +eyes and held them steadily on the distance above, +as she had learned to do in clambering with her +lover.</p> +<p>Somehow, now, the thought of Zeke heartened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +Plutina. Swinging dizzily in the abyss, with the +arms of her jailer about her, there flowed into her +soul a new courage. It was without reason, an +absurdity, a folly, but, oh, what a solace to her +spirit! Under the stimulus of it, she ascended more +rapidly. The pinched, ugly face of Garry Hawks, +glowering down at her from the ledge, did not dismay +her, even though the thought flashed on her +brain that now this man whom she had wounded +could hurl her to destruction by a touch. She had +no fear of him; only pressed upward steadily. In +another moment, her head passed above the level of +the ledge. She took the hand Garry Hawks held +out and climbed upon the narrow support, where +she shrank back against the cliff, after one glance +into the gulf yawning at her feet. The level space +was a scant yard in width here, and lessened on the +side away from the falls, until it ceased entirely. +In the other direction, it ran, broadening a very +little, to where a tiny cleft showed in the precipice. +Plutina guessed that this marked the entrance to +a cavern. Despite the bravery of her changed mood, +the eerie retreat daunted her by its desolate isolation. +Then, Hodges climbed upon the ledge, and +she heard his shout, coming faintly to her ears +above the roar of the cascade which fell just beyond +the cavern’s mouth.</p> +<p>“Welcome, home, Honey!” he bawled, with his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +detested jocularity. “They hain’t nobody a-goin’ +to butt in on our love-makin’ up hyar.”</p> +<p>Tittering and leering, he seized the girl by the +arm, and led her, unresisting, to the cranny that was +the door of the cave. A glance over her shoulder +showed Garry Hawks on his knee, hauling up the +ladder. She knew that with its disappearance there +would remain nought by which the searchers could +guess whither she had vanished, or how. Once +again, courage went out of her. In its place was +despair.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX' id='CHAPTER_XX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +</div> +<p>The cave into which Plutina now entered +was a small, uneven chamber, some three +yards in width at its highest point. It +extended back for a little way, but the roof sloped +downward so sharply that only in the central space +could the girl stand upright, and even there Hodges +had to stoop. On the far side was a hole in the +rocky wall. It was hardly a yard in height, but +the faint glow that marked it was proof that it +reached to the daylight outside. At the best, it +could serve as a passage-way only to one creeping +on hands and knees. So much Plutina perceived +in the first curious survey of her prison. The inspection +was rendered possible by the murky light +of a tallow candle, fixed in its own grease to a fragment +of stone near the center of the cavern.</p> +<p>As the outlaw released his hold on her arm, the +girl sank down listlessly on a part of the wall that +projected like a bench near the entrance. She leaned +back against the cold stone, and her eyes closed. +She felt a terrifying weakness, against which she +battled with what strength she could summon. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +dared not swoon, and so leave herself wholly helpless +within the power of this man. She was white +and trembling, but by force of will she held herself +from falling, though her muscles seemed fluid as +milk, and blackness whirled before her eyes.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, Hodges was not minded to have a +fainting woman on his hands. His prisoner’s appearance +alarmed him, and he hurried to a corner +of the cave, whence he quickly returned with a cup +half-full of whiskey. This he held to Plutina’s lips. +She accepted the service, for she could not lift a +hand, so great was her weakness. She swallowed +a part of the draught, and the strong liquor warmed +and strengthened her. She was so far restored +soon as to understand Hodges’ closing sentence, for +he had been mumbling at her.</p> +<p>“Ye hain’t so damned skittish as ye was yistiddy,” +he jeered.</p> +<p>Plutina had no spirit to reply. She could only +sit in abject lassitude, content to feel the glow of the +stimulant creeping through her veins. For a time, +her thoughts were stilled by the bodily torpor. She +welcomed the respite, glad to rest from the horror +of her plight. She heard the raucous voice of the +outlaw booming in her ears, but she paid no heed. +She saw Garry Hawks come into the cavern, waddling +under the burden of the rope-ladder, which +he carried clumsily by reason of the wound in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +arm. She observed that the outlaw said something +to his minion, putting his lips close to the fellow’s +ear, lest he be overheard. But she felt no curiosity +as to the purport of this secret utterance, nor did +she take interest when, immediately afterward, she +beheld the wounded man get down on all fours and +crawl out of sight through the hole in the opposite +side of the cave.</p> +<p>Little by little, the prisoner’s forces came back to +her. Of a sudden, she aroused with a start, as +though she had been asleep, albeit without any consciousness +of having slept. She felt a new alertness +now through all her members, and her brain was +clear. Along with this well-being came again appreciation +of the dreadfulness of her case. She grew +rigid under the shock of dire realization, tensing +her muscles, without volition, as if to repel attack. +Her eyes went fearfully to Hodges, who sprawled +at ease on a heap of spruce boughs across the cavern +from her. The man was puffing lazily at a corncob +pipe. The rank, acrid smell of the tobacco-smoke +came to her nostrils, strangely home-like in +this weird prison cell, aloft within the crags. She +perceived, with infinite relief, that for the moment +he appeared absorbed in his thoughts, disregardful +of her presence. At least, she would have opportunity +to fortify her spirit against the fear that +beset her. She must ape bravery, even though she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +sickened with terror. Thus only could she hope +to daunt the creature that threatened her. She had +only moral strength with which to resist him. +Physically, she would be as a child in his grasp, +notwithstanding her quick, firm muscles. In a +bodily contest, there could be but the single issue, +her vanquishment. It would be hardly more than +sport to him, the utmost of her frenzied strugglings. +She saw the bloody marks of her fingers on his +face, and remembered his stolid seeming of indifference +to her fury. He had scorned her strength +then. So, he would continue to scorn it—with reason, +since it could by no means avail against him. +No, she must have recourse to strength of will +rather, to awe and intimidate him. She knew the +folly of such means against the brutal desire of the +man. But she clung to it as a meed of hope, because +she had naught else to which to cling. Without +a hope, even the falsest, she must have gone mad.</p> +<p>One thing seemed favoring for the time. The +man was evidently sober. Plutina wondered at that, +for Hodges was not often sober, and excess of +liquor was an accustomed part in all his pleasures. +His abstinence now puzzled her, but it relieved her, +too, since it promised some postponement of his +worst advances. Thus encouraged, she set herself +to review the situation in detail, in forlorn attempt +to come on a way of escape. But a half-hour of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +effort left her distraught. She could devise nothing +to suit her need. Only one thought remained for +tragical comfort in her wretchedness: In her last +extremity, she might cast herself from the cliff. +Better a thousand times clean death than defilement.... +Plutina remembered her grandfather’s regret +over her having spared the outlaw. Now, with +her finger on the trigger, there would have been no +faltering, only joy and thanksgiving.</p> +<p>The defenseless girl watched furtively. When, +at last, Hodges stirred from his indolent sprawl, +knocked the dottle from his pipe, and looked up +at her, she shrank visibly. The blood rushed back +to her heart in a flood, leaving her pallid, and she +was trembling. Even in the feeble light from the +guttering candle, Hodges could perceive her disturbance. +It gratified him, and he laughed, in sinister +glee over her emotion.</p> +<p>“I ’low ye’re gittin’ some tame since yistiddy,” +he exclaimed. He got to his feet slowly, whereat +Plutina looked toward the entrance cleft, ready if +the need came, to fly from him to the more merciful +abyss. But Hodges moved toward the back of the +cave where he brought out a stone jug from its +niche, and returned to the bed of boughs. Seated +again, he filled the tin cup full of spirits, and drank +it down. With the pipe recharged and burning, +he continued to sit in silence, regarding the girl with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +an unswerving intentness that tortured her. At short +intervals, he replenished the cup and quaffed it +thirstily. He was rapidly compensating for his +earlier abstinence. Plutina, studying him covertly, +noted the beginnings of drunkenness and its various +stages. There was gruesome fascination in her +scrutiny; for she knew that her honor rested on the +hazard of a sot’s whim.</p> +<p>Suddenly, the girl knew that the peril was very +close upon her. Hodges was staring at her from +his reddened eyes with a rampant lustfulness that +was unmistakable. Again, she measured the distances, +to make sure that the last desperate means +of escape from his embraces lay open still. She +meant, in the final crisis, to spring to the crevice, +before he could approach within reach of her. +There, with the verge of the cliff only a step away, +she would make her plea, with death in the gulf as +the alternative of failure, the ultimate safeguard +of honor.</p> +<p>There could be no doubt concerning the imminence +of the danger. The usually red face of +the outlaw was mottled purple, congested by the +stimuli of liquor and passion. The thick under-lip +hung slackly, quivering from time to time in +the convulsive tremors of desire that ran over him. +A high light fell on the man’s neck, where the open +shirt left it bare. Plutina’s gaze was caught by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +slight rise and fall of the flesh above the artery. +The movement was made distinguishable across the +cavern by the effects of light and shade. The girl +found herself mechanically counting the throbs. +The rapidity of them amazed her. They witnessed +the fever raging in his blood—the fever that +clamored for assuagement from her. The galloping +pulse enthralled her with horror. It made visible +the vile fires raging in him. So swift the rhythm +grew that a hideous hope sprang up in the watcher—hope +that an apoplexy might stretch the man dead +at her feet.</p> +<p>Hodges reached for the jug, and poured from it +into the cup, and drank. The girl perceived that, +in the few seconds, his mood had changed utterly. +The purple of his face was dingy with gray. He +was trembling now. His eyes moved restlessly, as +if fearful of something to issue from the darkness. +Not once did they rest on her. She remembered +the racing pulse in his throat, and looked for it. +To her astonishment, it was no longer to be seen, +though the light fell on the place as before. She +knew then that the fever had died, and she marveled +mightily. But she recognized more, for she was +unharmed still. The changed mood of her enemy +promised immunity, for a time at least.</p> +<p>Yet once again, the outlaw drank. Then, without +a word to the prisoner, or so much as a look in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +her direction, he got down on his hands and knees, +and crawled out of sight through the hole in the +wall.</p> +<p>For what seemed to her ages, Plutina waited for +his return, dreading a new, obscene mood. But the +time dragged on, and there was no sign of his +coming. The candle flared and smoked, went out. +The girl huddled in the dark, listening now, for her +eyes could not pierce the blackness. The roar of +the waterfall filled her ears. The noise dismayed +her, for it must inevitably cover all lesser sounds, +even those close at hand. Any evil might leap on +her without warning, out of the darkness. She felt +her helplessness multiplied, intolerable, thus blinded +and deafened. She longed to shriek, pitting shrill +clamor against the bass thunders of the cascade. +She began to fear lest madness seize her if she remained +longer thus supinely crouching amid the +terrors of this place. Obeying a sudden impulse, +she got up, and gropingly, with shuffling, cautious +steps, moved across the cavern. When she reached +the opposite wall, she got down on hands and knees, +and crawled until her searching fingers found the +emptiness of the hole through which the men had +passed. Then, she drew back a little, and sat with +alert ears, sure that none could issue into the cavern +now without her knowledge.</p> +<p>The relief afforded by the action soon waned. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +Terrors crowded on her again in the second period +of waiting. In desperation, she determined to explore +the hole itself. She tried to examine the +project carefully and found nothing to stay her +purpose. Joy leaped in her at the thought that a +way of escape even might be ready to her hand. +She believed it more likely, however, that the passage +led merely to another chamber in the cliff. +If such should be the case, and either or both of the +men were sleeping there, she could probably ascertain +the fact readily without being herself discovered, +since here the sound of the falls was muffled. +Forthwith, she crept slowly within the opening.</p> +<p>The progress was snail-like. The rough rock of +the floor cut into her knees cruelly, but she disregarded +the pain, and went forward. She tested +each inch of the way by feeling over the stones with +her hands, on either side and along the floor. The +narrowness of the passage, which was hardly more +than its height, rendered thorough examination +easy. She found no lateral openings, nor did the +space grow perceptibly larger. It suddenly occurred +to her, after having advanced steadily, though very +slowly, for five minutes, that she could not turn +around. To return, she must back out. The idea +appalled her, and she meditated retreat. Then, while +she was yet undecided, the hand groping in front of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +her touched on stone above the floor level. A short +investigation proved that here the passage was +barred. She could feel space between the edges of +the tunnel and the mass of stone that closed it. +Since there was no other point of egress, both men +must have passed through. Afterward, the opening +had been closed by rolling a heavy rock before it. +She put her strength in pressure against the stone, +without avail. It was too heavy for her muscles. +She realized that by this simple means she was shut +within her prison. It was almost with relief that +she began to creep backward—to be astounded by +the shortness of the way. It was scarcely a minute +before she was in the chamber again. To guard +against surprise in the darkness, she pushed the +couch of boughs a little way along the wall, so that +it projected across the mouth of the tunnel. This +done, she seated herself on the branches, assured that +no one could enter the cavern without giving her +warning. Even should she sleep, the thrusting away +of the boughs from the orifice must surely awaken +her.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, Plutina did not expect the boon +of sleep, though she longed for it with aching intensity. +In spite of this temporary respite, she +could see no way of escape from the outlaw’s +power, except by death. The vagaries of a +drunken mood had saved her to-night: they could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +not save her for long. And, then, even while she +mourned the hopelessness of her case, oblivion fell +on her, and she slept the reposeful, dreamless slumber +of utter exhaustion.</p> +<p>A violent shaking of the bed of boughs startled +the prisoner back to consciousness. For the fraction +of a second, her mind was chaos. Then remembrance +came, and rending fear. But there was +one comfort—day had dawned: she could see. +There was no one with her in the chamber. The +moving branches warned that the intruder was still +in the tunnel. There was time for her to gain the +crevice, where she could forbid any approach, where +if her command failed, she could throw herself +from the cliff. She darted across the width of the +room, and stood in the cleft, strained back against +the rock, her eyes staring affrightedly toward the +opposite wall. All her woman’s terrors were crashing +upon her now. She felt Death clawing at her +over the brow of the ledge, fierce to drag her into +the depths. One of the hands clutching at her +bosom touched the fairy crystal, and she seized it +despairingly, and clung to it, as if the secret spell +of it might hold her back to life.</p> +<p>Abruptly, a broken cry of relief fluttered from +her lips, for she saw the shock head of Garry +Hawks thrust from the tunnel’s mouth. Toward +him, she felt no fear, only contempt. In the reaction, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +she trembled so that she could hardly stand, +and for a few moments her eyes closed. Only the +rock against which she leaned saved her from +crumbling to the floor. The weakness passed very +quickly, however, and she was again mistress of +herself by the time Hawks had scrambled to his +feet.</p> +<p>The fellow had little to say, answering surlily +the questions put to him by Plutina. He plainly cherished +animosity against the girl who had wounded +him, which was natural enough. As plainly, he +did not dare vent his spite too openly against the +object of his chief’s fondness. He brought with +him a bag containing bread and a liberal allowance +of cooked slices of bacon, and a jug of water. His +information was to the effect that Hodges would +not return until nightfall. He left in the fashion +of his coming, by the tunnel. Plutina immediately +replaced the boughs, and, when she had eaten and +drunk, again seated herself on the rough bed. From +time to time, she went to the crevice, and stared +out over the wild landscape longingly. But the +height gave her a vertigo if she stepped forth upon +the ledge. For that reason, she did not venture outside +the crevice after a single attempt, which set +her brain reeling. She remained instead well within +the cleft, where she was unaffected by the height, +while able to behold the vast reaches of sunlit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +space before her. The area about the foot of the +precipice was, however, cut off from her vision. +So it came about that, though she went twice to the +crevice and looked out during the intervals while +the marshal, first with his men and afterward with +her grandfather, was searching about the pool, she +knew nothing concerning the nearness of aid. She +could not see the men, and the din of the falls +covered their voices.</p> +<p>Occasionally, the girl lapsed into a quietude that +was half-stupor and half-sleep, the while she reclined +on the boughs. These were blessed periods +of rest for the over-strained nerves, and she strove +to prolong them—always in vain. For the most +part, she hurried about with febrile, aimless movements. +She found herself wondering often if to-day +were to be the last of her life. She could see +no other issue. The night would bring Hodges, +and the crisis of her fate. She could not hope for a +second escape through a drunken vagary. There +would be only the leap from the ledge to-night. As +she stood in the crevice, and looked out on the +smiling sylvan glory of the scene, as the soft summer +breeze caressed her cheeks, and the balsamic +air filled her bosom with its gently penetrant vigors, +she realized as never before the miracle of life, its +goodness and sweet savors. She cried out against +the hideous thing that was come upon her. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +every fiber of her being flamed in revolt against +the idea of death. Every atom of her clamored +for life and love. And there were only shame and +death for her choice. She took out the fairy crystal, +and prayed to the sacred sign it bore, beholding +it dimly though scalding tears. But faith flickered +and went out. Her soul sickened.... For her, +there was nothing else—just shame and death. No—only +death.</p> +<p>Plutina would have tried escape by the rope-ladder, +but she found its weight too much for her +strength, so sorely over-tried by racking emotions. +Even had she been able to carry the burden it would +have availed nothing, for the dizziness attacked her +whenever she drew near the verge. In her desperation, +she even crept the length of the tunnel a second +time, on the faint chance that the exit might +now be less secure. She found the rock barrier +immovable as before, though the rim of light +showed that here was, in very truth, the way to +freedom, and she pushed frantically at the obstacle +until utterly exhausted.</p> +<p>It was when evening drew down that, at last, +there sounded the noise of a writhing body within +the tunnel, and, from her point of refuge close to +the crevice, she saw the outlaw crawl out of the +passage, and stand before her like a demon of the +darkness, leering at her fatuously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></p> +<p>“You-all is shore makin’ quite a visit,” he remarked, +with heavy sarcasm.</p> +<p>“An’ it kain’t he’p ye none, Dan,” Plutina retorted. +“I hates ye, an’ yer keepin’ me hyar hain’t +goin’ to do ye no good. If ye goes fer to lay a +finger on me, I’ll go over the cliff. I’m worse scairt +o’ yer touchin’ me than I be o’ the rocks down thar, +Dan.” Her voice was colorless, but an undertone +of finality ran in it.</p> +<p>The outlaw regarded her sharply from his inflamed +eyes. It may be that her sincerity impressed +him. Yet, he betrayed no feeling as he answered, +carelessly:</p> +<p>“Hain’t no call fer ye to be so damned ornery. +I hain’t a-goin’ to tech ye—yit. We’ll be together +quite a spell, I reckon—till I gits sick o’ havin’ ye +round. If I wanted ye I could jump ye easy from +hyar. I’m some spry, if I be big. But ye needn’t +be skeered, I’m tellin’ ye. I hain’t a-goin’ to tech ye—yit.”</p> +<p>The final monosyllable was charged with sinister +import, but the man’s assurance of her present +safety was, somehow, convincing, and she accepted +it with the emotional gratitude of one sentenced +to death who receives a reprieve. She sank down +on the stone bench near the crevice, and watched +her jailer with unwavering attention, while he produced +a candle from his pocket, and lighted it, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +had recourse again to the stone jug of whiskey, +which had remained by the bed of boughs.</p> +<p>To-night, the fiery drams made him garrulous, +and he discussed his affairs, his hopes, and plans, +with a freedom that showed how complete was his +expectation of retaining the girl in his power. +Thus, Plutina learned of the search being made for +her, which was now the active cause in changing +the outlaw’s purpose in the immediate disposal of +his prisoner.</p> +<p>“I was aimin’ to lay low with ye right hyar,” he +explained, after his fourth sup of the spirits. “But +I reckon hit’s a goin’ to be a heap safer to skedaddle. +I ain’t a-wantin’ no damned dawgs fer +to chaw me up. So I’m goin’ to mosey over Bull +Head t’-morrer. You-all ’ll go ’long, nice an’ +peaceable—er ye’ll be drug.” He spoke with a +snarl now. “Ye’ll know hit, when I once git ye +cross the state line—cuss ye! Ye’ll find I hain’t so +damned shy, arter all!”</p> +<p>Plutina cowered before the savage threat in the +words. There was no mistaking the expression in +the lustful eyes burning on her. His regard was +in itself contamination. It was the prophecy of +worse, of the final wickedness, to come. The afflicted +girl thrilled with loathing before the satyr-like +aspect of this man, foul of flesh and soul. But, +along with abhorrence of the creature who held her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +in his keeping so ruthlessly, there was another emotion—that +recurrent wonder concerning such delay +in the base gratification craved by his passion. She +could not doubt the fierce longing that seethed in +his veins. It was like a visible thing flaming from +him; and tangible, for she felt the impact of those +brutal desires thronging against the white shield +of her own purity, powerless to penetrate, yet nauseating +her by the unclean impact. What, then, +interposed to check him? What hidden force held +him back from working his will against her? She +could make no surmise. Certainly, here was no +physical restraint to stay him. As certainly, no +moral reason would be of effect. The thing was +altogether mysterious. So, she marveled mightily, +and was curious to understand, even while she +thanked God for the further respite. And now, +too, hope began to burn again. Surely, if she were +to accompany him on the trails as he had said, there +would come the opportunity for escape. He could +not be on guard ceaselessly. Vigilance must relax +on occasion. It would not be then as here in this +dreadful cavern, perched ’twixt earth and sky.... +She broke off to listen, for the outlaw, having +filled his pipe and drained a deep draught of the +liquor, was become loquacious again. This time, +thanks to the drink, he waxed confidential, intimate +even. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p> +<p>“I kin git away from hyar, an’ no damned dawg +kain’t foller my tracks, nuther. Er if he does, he’ll +drap inter the Devil’s Kittle. But I knows my way +’bout in these-hyar mountings. An’ ye needn’t be +afeared o’ losin’ me, Honey. I’ll hang onto ye +good an’ tight. When I git ye over the line, I’ll +have a parson, if ye want. I hain’t a-keerin’ one way, +or t’other. But I got to have ye, willin’ or not willin’, +parson or no parson. I’d hev ye t’-night if +’twan’t fer jest one cussed thing. Hit’s a’mighty +hard to hev yer blood a-b’ilin’, till ye’re like to bust +jest ’cause of a slip of a gal, what ye could smash +in yer two han’s—an’ her so high an’ mighty!” +The querulous voice ceased, while he had recourse +again to the stone jug.</p> +<p>When next he spoke, it was evident that his mood +had changed. He was no longer harshly self-assertive, +vainglorious, or brutally frank concerning the +passion that consumed him. He was, instead, +strangely reminiscent, with involuntary revelation +of the weakness that preyed upon him. The girl +was grateful for the change in him, but her bewilderment +increased.</p> +<p>“I seen a feller hung once,” Hodges said. His +guttural, awed tones were hushed almost to a +whisper. “They pulled a black cap down over ’is +face, so’s he couldn’t see nothin’ ’bout what he was +up ag’inst. An’ his han’s was tied together behind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +’is neck, with the knot up under his ear—’is left +ear, I ’member hit was. I ’member partic’lar.”</p> +<p>The speaker’s gaze had been downcast; not once +had he looked at Plutina. It was as if he had forgotten +the girl’s presence there with him, and +communed aloud with his own gristly memories +of the death-scene he had witnessed. His huge +bulk seemed somehow shrunken—a physical shriveling +in response to the craven fear in his soul. That +gray, mottled purple of his face showed again. +Plutina wondered, if, indeed, this same memory +had been in his thoughts the night before. But, if +so, it only made the thing the more inexplicable. +Why should a hanging, long-past, thus haunt him? +He was no nervous weakling, to be tortured by +imaginary fears. Yet, now, he displayed unmistakable +signs of terror, in his voice, his eyes, his +whole mien, in the shaking haste that spilled the +half of the drink he poured out.</p> +<p>“I seen ’im hung,” he repeated, abjectly. “They +let the trap drap from under his feet—an’ ’im all +tied, an’ thet-thar black cap pulled down over ’is +face to blind ’im. Hit were plumb awful fer to +see ’im drap. An’ then the rope stopped ’im right +in the air. Hit were a drefful yank he got. They +say, hit broke ’is neck, so’s he didn’t feel nothin’ +more. But I dunno. Hit looked like he felt a heap, +fer he kicked an’ squirmed like hell. Hit weren’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +purty fer to see. I’ve seen a big bull-frog what I’ve +speared kick an’ squirm jest like ’im. No, hit +weren’t purty. I’d shore hate fer to have my neck +bruk thet-thar way. Damn the law, anyhow! They +hadn’t orter treat no white man thet-thar way. Hit +must feel awful, a-standin’ up thar, with thet-thar +cap down over ye, shuttin’ out everythin’—ferever; +an’ with thet-thar noose round yer neck, an’ the +knot a-ticklin’ yer ear—yer left ear. I ’member +specially. An’ a-knowin’ the noose is a-goin’ to +tighten, an’ cut off yer breath—fer always. An’ +a-standin’ on thet-thar trap, an’ a-knowin’ hit’s +goin’ to drap—a-knowin’ the bottom’s a-goin’ to +drap right out o’—everythin’! I don’t never want +my neck bruk no sech way’s thet. Hit hain’t +right.”</p> +<p>Plutina, staring wide-eyed, saw to her stupefaction +that tears trickled from the eyes of the maudlin +man; she heard him whimpering. Once more, +he poured himself a drink. He mumbled unintelligibly +for a little. Then, of a sudden, his voice +rose in a last flare of energy, before he rolled on +the boughs in sodden slumber.</p> +<p>“Damn the law in this-hyar state! Hit hain’t +right, nohow. Jest ’cause a feller loves a gal—to +hang ’im! I hain’t afeared o’ nothin’ else, s’fur’s +I knows, but I’d hate fer to have my neck bruk like +his’n was. I hain’t a-takin’ no chancet o’ thet. I’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +wait till I’m over the line. But hit’s hell to crave +a woman!”</p> +<p>Raucous snores told the girl that the man slept, +that again she had passed through the ordeal in +safety. And now, at last, she knew the cause of her +escape thus far. The mystery that had baffled her +was a mystery no longer. Out of the creature’s +own mouth had come the explanation. Driven on +by gusty passion as he was, a yet stronger emotion +triumphed over lust. Of imagination he had little, +but he had seen a man hanged. His memory of +that death had been her salvation, for such is the +punishment meted to the violator of a woman in +North Carolina. In Dan Hodges, that master emotion, +lust, had met a mightier—fear. Because he was +a coward, he had not ventured even the least caress, +lest passion seize him and make him mad—forgetful +of how that other man died so horribly. She had +been spared because between him and her a scaffold +loomed.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI' id='CHAPTER_XXI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +</div> +<p>The full-throated baying of a hound. Men, +far in the valleys below Stone Mountain, +looked up, and listened, wondering. But +those on the mountain heard and understood: Dan +Hodges was being run to earth.</p> +<p>The clew offered by the wet place on the cliff had +sufficed for the three men who accompanied the +stag-hound. They had marked the spot carefully +in memory by its distance from a certain stunted +pine growing above it and a rift in the precipice to +one side. Then they had ascended a furlong to +the north, where the ascent was gradual and broken. +When they had made sure that they were at the +proper level, they searched for an approach to the +desired ledge. The dog found the scent by the tunnel, +but Brant did not loose the animal. Stone’s +eyes caught traces of where a bowlder had been +moved. A little more searching revealed the opening +covered by the stone, which they rolled aside.</p> +<p>“But he’s not there, now,” Brant declared, as he +restrained the eager dog. “Jack is wild to be off, +and he wouldn’t take a back track.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>Uncle Dick, eager to make sure, would have attempted +the passage, but Stone interposed.</p> +<p>“I’ll go,” he declared. “It’s my right—my prisoner, +you know. Anyhow, it’ll be a snug-enough +fit for me, and I’m smaller than you, Uncle Dick.”</p> +<p>The old man grudgingly admitted the fact, and +made way for the marshal. In five minutes, Stone +was back.</p> +<p>“Nobody there,” he announced.</p> +<p>“Then it’s up to Jack,” Brant exclaimed, and +slipped the leash.</p> +<p>The hound shot forward in full cry. The men +hurried after at top speed. Almost immediately, +the dog vanished among the thickets. There came +a clatter of sliding stones, as the big beast went +galloping up the rise toward the crest of the mountain. +The men followed as best they might, guided +by the baying. Uncle Dick listened with bloodthirsty +hopefulness for the crack of Zeke’s rifle, +which he would recognize.</p> +<p>The fugitive himself heard the hound’s sonorous +summons, and wasted breath in cursing. He cursed +his potations over-night, which had led him to sleep +beyond the sunrise. But for such drunken folly, +he would have had the trailer hopelessly at fault. +Now, at best, it would be a close race—and there +was the girl to hamper and hinder. She was running +at his side, obedient to the pressure of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +hands. He had replaced the cowhide thong, with +her hands in front of her, and with play enough for +free movement. So far, she had made no resistance +to his commands. But the barking of the dog would +warn her. If she should turn balky—</p> +<p>What the outlaw feared, came to pass. The +hoarse baying sounded to Plutina’s ears like sweetest +music. The first note told her that friends were +at hand for a rescue from the monster by her side. +Her heart leaped in the joy of it. A new courage +surged in her—courage to defy this creature that +held her in thrall.</p> +<p>They were come already across the most of the +plain of naked rock that is the top of the mountain. +They had rushed without pause through the little +grove of dwarf pines that grows near the Devil’s +Slide, above the Cauldron. They were come, indeed, +to the very edge of the Slide itself before Plutina +acted. After all, it was not the new courage, but a +newer fear, that forced her. She had one swift +glimpse of the valley spread a thousand feet below, +the giant trees like tiniest saplings, so far away—that +dear, adorable valley, where were home and +peace and love. But, between her and it, the precipice +fell; between her and it, the Devil’s Pot boiled; +between her and it was this man, who drove her +with curses. She looked away from the beloved +valley into the loathsome face, and she saw the fear +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +in his eyes—fear, and something else that terrified +her. She realized suddenly that she was on the +very verge of the Slide, where none might venture +and live. There, just beyond, was the darkened surface +of the rock where the shallow stream went +slithering down into the Cauldron. An hysteria +of fear gripped her, as he dragged her forward, out +upon the sloping stone that dipped toward the abyss. +She believed that he meant to hurl her from the +height. Thus, there would be left no evidence of +his crime. His passion for her was nothing now—only +his passion for life.</p> +<p>“Quick, damn ye!” Hodges rasped. “I know the +way in the dark. Ye needn’t be skeered none with +me.”</p> +<p>He meant it; but the girl did not believe. She +thought it a ruse to get her closer to the edge. She +shrieked in despair, and sprang away from him. +His clutch on the thong checked her. He jerked her +back to him, hardly pausing in his stride. She +struck at his face furiously, but he dragged her on +toward the brink, mouthing at her with foul oaths. +She fell to her knees, and hung, screaming, a dead +weight. The baying of the hound sounded closer. +Hodges threw a glance over his shoulder, and saw +the dog charging from the grove. He would have +fired, but the girl was in the way. With a final +blasphemy, he dropped his rifle, and struck at her—full +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +in the face. She sank down limply, unconscious. +Her body slid away slowly, yet with a +quickening movement, toward the gulf.</p> +<p>Hodges gave not even a look to his victim. He +heard the challenge of the hound, now fairly upon +him. There was no time to shoot. He used cunning +instead. A mighty jump carried him over +the moist surface where the stream flowed. He +alighted on the dry rock. His bare feet clutched and +held on the sloping surface.... No instinct +warned the hound. Its leap brought it down in the +wet run-way. Its feet shot from under. The +force of its rush finished the work. The outlaw +turned just in time to see the hound disappear over +the cliff.</p> +<p>Before he had time for exultation over this victory, +before he could look to see how fared the +girl whom he had struck down so ruthlessly, before +he guessed the new peril, another enemy was upon +him.</p> +<p>Zeke, too, had heard the baying of the hound. +Trembling with eagerness, where he lurked behind +a screen of bushes at the south of the grove, he +knew that the dog was hot on the trail. He went +racing toward the sound, with the bull-terrier at +his heels. He had just entered among the trees, +when he saw the hound careen past him. He followed, +and, as he issued into the open, saw the man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +and the girl struggling on the edge of the precipice. +He sickened at the spectacle, but there was no faltering. +With every atom of energy in speed, he +darted down the slope. He saw the blow that +crumpled Plutina to the rock. He saw it through +a veil of red. What he did not see was the low, +stealthy, yet quickening, slide of her body toward +the brim of the abyss. So, all unconscious of that +peril to the one he loved, he sprang to attack his +enemy. He saw the hound’s fate, and understood +the cause of it. He, in turn, cleared the treacherous +wet surface by a mighty leap. That leap brought +him full on the outlaw’s back. The two men went +down together.</p> +<p>The crash of Hodges’ head on the rock had well +been enough to crack an ordinary skull. But his +was strong, and the unkempt thatch of hair cushioned +it, so that he got no serious hurt. A little +dazed by the blow, and by the unexpectedness of the +onslaught—nothing more. And he had the bravery +of triumphant physical strength. In the instant of +attack, he fought back viciously, with blind thrust +and clutch. A long, powerful arm writhed around +Zeke like a band of steel, and held the assailant immovable. +Lying there on his back, the outlaw +looked up into Zeke’s face, and recognized it, and +cursed this unexpected foe obscenely.</p> +<p>Zeke wasted no energy in words. He was mad +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +with rage against the man he hated. His one desire +was to kill. He twined his fingers in the tangled +hair, and beat the head upon the stone floor again +and again. But the leverage of his arms was cut +down too much. He could not even stun the outlaw, +much less kill. He could not reach his rifle, +which he had dropped when he sprang to the attack. +He could not draw his revolver by reason of the +encircling arms. He could only hammer his enemy’s +head on the rock, with a cruel lust for slaughter +that availed nothing except to madden him by its +futility. His strength, great though it was, was not +enough against the man he fought.</p> +<p>Hodges proved the fact presently, for by a tremendous +effort, he turned, and pinned Zeke underneath. +The force of the impact under the outlaw’s +heavy weight laid the lad unconscious. The +fingers unclenched from his adversary’s hair; he +lay limp. Hodges rose to his feet, with shambling +haste. But, if he meant to kill, fate thwarted him. +One foot was placed on the treacherous dampened +rock. It slid from under him. He was thrown +from his balance, and sprawled at length. He +scrambled on all fours toward the other side of +the run-way with desperate haste. He did not attempt +to rise. A moment later, he slipped slowly +over the brow of the cliff.</p> +<p>Seth Jones, just issuing from the grove, saw the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +vanishing of the outlaw, but, at the distance, he +could not distinguish the man’s identity or that of +the other, lying motionless on the sloping rock. For +the instant, however, he gave no heed to either for +sheer horror of something else he saw—the unconscious +girl, moving so inexorably to her doom. He +shouted in despair, as he raced toward her. But +he knew he must be too late. He was powerless to +stay her fall—as was the bull-terrier, which had +seized her skirt and still clung, only to be dragged +down with her into the void. Before he was come +to the beginning of the Slide, girl and dog had traversed +it—had shot out into the emptiness of +space.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII' id='CHAPTER_XXII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +</div> +<p>The veteran gazed down at the sloping expanse +of stone that curved to the sheer +drop of the precipice. He was absolutely +helpless in the face of the catastrophe he had witnessed. +A man, a girl and a dog had gone to their +death in this frightful place within the minute. Already, +the corpses were stewing in the Devil’s Pot +half-a-thousand feet below, he reflected grimly. +There was nothing to be done for them now, or +ever. He felt a whirl of nausea within him, but +fought back the weakness. He shuddered, as he +thought of the man behind him, lying senseless on +the edge of the Slide. Was it Hodges whom he +had seen plunge into the depths, or was it—Zeke? +It was with fearful apprehension that he turned at +last to learn as to which remained.</p> +<p>A little cry of relief escaped him, for at a glance +he recognized Zeke. He sprang forward, and, in +a moment, had assured himself that the young man +was not dead, was not even seriously wounded. He +guessed that a fall on the rocks had merely stunned. +As best he could with one hand, he got out his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +pocket-flask, and finally managed to force a little +of the liquor between the clenched teeth. Presently, +it took effect. The color came back into Zeke’s +face, and he stirred, and groaned. Then he sat up, +resting against the veteran’s arm.</p> +<p>Before there was time for any interchange of +words between the two, a shout aroused them to +look toward the grove. They saw the marshal +dashing down the slope. Close behind him ran Cyclone +Brant. Uncle Dick lagged a little, the burden +of years pressing too heavily at last. The three +came swiftly and gathered about the two on the edge +of the Slide. Dismay was writ large on their faces. +The silence of the hound, Zeke stricken and alone +with the veteran, aroused their suspicion of disaster.</p> +<p>“Where’s Jack?” Brant demanded. His heart +was in the question. The fate of the others was of +less concern to him than that of the animal he loved.</p> +<p>Zeke answered, strongly enough, for now energy +was flowing back into him.</p> +<p>“The hound went over,” he said, regretfully. “I +saw him. He slipped an’ fell, an’ was gone like a +flash.”</p> +<p>Brant turned away to hide his distress.</p> +<p>But in Zeke recollection welled. He clutched at +the marshal, and drew himself to his feet, where, +after an instant, he stood firmly. His eyes went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +searchingly over the barren surface of the Slide. +They dilated. Fright lined his face—then, horror. +He stared wildly, his gaze roving over all the mountain-top, +once and again—and again. When words +came, they were broken, surcharged with the horrid +fear that was on him.</p> +<p>“Whar—whar is she—Tiny?”</p> +<p>His look went to the four men in turn, piteously +pleading. Each of the three met the look and answered +it by a shake of the head. But the veteran +could not endure the anguish in the lover’s eyes. +His own dropped. He did not shake his head. +Zeke strove for courage.</p> +<p>“Whar is she?” he demanded, at length. His +voice was more composed now, but his eyes were +flaming.</p> +<p>The veteran answered very softly, but without +any attempt at evasion.</p> +<p>“I saw her go, Zeke—over the cliff. Thet little +dawg o’ your’n had a holt on her skirt. But he +hadn’t the heft to keep her from goin’. The dawg +did the best he knew how. But ’twa’n’t no use, an’ +he went, too. I was too fur off to grab her. I +reckon she fainted. She didn’t scream, ner move +none to save herself.”</p> +<p>There was a little period of silence. These men +were schooled to the concealment of deepest emotions. +There was no frantic outburst from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +bereaved lover, from the afflicted grandfather. +There was not even comment or further questioning. +Of what avail? The thing was done. The +girl was lost forever, dead. But the other men +looked away, lest they see the agony in Zeke’s +face.</p> +<p>Abruptly, the young man started walking down +the slope. He wore shoes, and they slipped a little +on the smooth stone. Straight down toward the +brink he strode. The curve of the dome made +every step more perilous. It was a natural, an irresistible +impulse to look on the precise place where +the loved one had perished, but it appeared as if +he walked to his death. Indeed, his danger was +grave, for he had forgotten the shoes he wore.... +Or, perhaps, he did not care! Uncle Dick +uttered an oath, and leaped in pursuit. It was only +a matter of seconds to overtake the young man, +seize him, turn him about and march him back with +fierce expostulations that were a welcome vent to +emotion.</p> +<p>Zeke obeyed readily, aware of his momentary +folly. Then, as he rejoined the group, hate flared +again. Memory of the fight was confused by the +blow on his head. He questioned Seth Jones harshly, +with a single word:</p> +<p>“Hodges?”</p> +<p>The veteran permitted himself a faint smile. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +cruelty of the soldier, accustomed to violent deaths, +was in it. There was, too, a curious smugness, a secret +complacency.</p> +<p>“I ’low yer wits are some shook up yit, bein’ as +how ye disremember,” he remarked easily. “Ye +trun Hodges over the cliff, Zeke, jest as ye went +down. Hit were nip an’ tuck atween ye, an’ ye +bested ’im.” The kindly veteran believed the lie +would be a life-long source of satisfaction to the +lad, who had been so fearfully despoiled. Now, his +belief was justified by the fierce pleasure that showed +for a moment in Zeke’s pain-drawn face.</p> +<p>“I kain’t seem to remember,” he said, perplexedly. +“But I’m shore glad I killed him.”</p> +<p>Then, again, silence fell. There could be no triumph +really over the death of Hodges, because it +had involved the destruction of Plutina as well. The +five men stood about awkwardly. The solemnity +of death lay like a pall over them. In the stress of +suffering, Zeke had moved on from youth to the full +stature of manhood. Uncle Dick had added a score +of years to his apparent age. Brant grieved much, +if less seriously. Only the veteran and the marshal +had escaped personal loss, though they, too, +mourned deeply. None ventured to suggest leaving +the doomed spot. It seemed as if a sinister spell +held them there, vaguely expectant, though wistful +to flee. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></p> +<p>Rather, perhaps, it was their sadness that made +seem sinister a spell actually benignant. For, of a +sudden, while they still stood mute, Brant raised a +hand to command attention, and pointed toward +the verge of the precipice.</p> +<p>“Hark!” he commanded.</p> +<p>They listened intently. Then, all heard a faint, +tremulous, whimpering note, long drawn-out, querulously +appealing. Zeke started and stared in the direction +of the sound with an incredulous frown. +Brant shook his head sorrowfully: it was not the +voice of Jack. The others were merely bewildered +by this unexpected development.</p> +<p>The whining continued, grew louder. Came a +plaintive yelp. Out of the abyss was thrust a clinging +paw, another. The squat face of the bull-terrier +peered at them from over the top of the cliff. +Next instant, the dog had scrambled safely on the +Slide. It raced to Zeke with shrill cries of delight, +leaped high to its master’s breast, where it was +caught and held closely. The slavering tongue lavished +caresses. Zeke felt a warm glow of comfort +in the creature’s return. Yet, it did but render +more frightful the loss of that being so infinitely +more precious. He hardly heard Uncle Dick speaking.</p> +<p>“Hit’s dum curi’s,” the old man said, lowering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +on Seth Jones. “I thought as how ye said the pup +was a-hangin’ on to Tiny’s dress.”</p> +<p>“It was so,” the veteran answered. “I ’low the +dawg must ’a’ let loose when hit got in the air.”</p> +<p>“Hit’s dum curi’s,” Uncle Dick repeated, and +turned to regard the bull-terrier with bent brows.</p> +<p>Zeke himself put a term to the mystification that +had gripped him as well as the others. He raised a +hand to the dog’s throat, to restrain the too eager +demonstrations of affection. At the collar he felt +something unaccustomed. He looked, idly enough, +and saw that a leathern thong had been tied firmly +in the ring. To the thong was attached a little +leather bag. The things were strange to him, yet +they moved him profoundly. He found himself +trembling—why, he knew not.</p> +<p>He fumbled at the draw-strings of the pouch, +loosened them. He thrust a finger within the opening, +and touched something smooth and hard. It +seemed to him that he already knew what this thing +must be. He turned the bag upside down over his +hand. In his palm lay a small coffee-colored piece +of stone. It bore in darker shade the clear tracery +of a cross. Zeke, looking down, saw the sacred +symbol subtly effulgent, a holy promise of safety +for her whom he loved. He lifted a radiant face +to the others, who had crowded about with marveling +exclamations. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></p> +<p>“Hit’s the fairy cross I give Tiny,” Zeke cried. +His voice was joyous now, though throbbing with +anxiety. “She hain’t dead. She’s kotched somehow +thar on the rocks. She kain’t climb up. So, +she sent the cross by Chubbie, to show she was +alive. I’ll go down fer her.”</p> +<p>The listening group readily understood the wonder +that had befallen. Whatever her present peril, +whatever her injuries, Plutina still lived. The +blessed fact stirred them to joy and to orderly action.</p> +<p>“Ye kain’t he’p Tiny none by fallin’ into the +Kittle yerself,” Uncle Dick declared, with the voice +of authority. “Jest hold yer hosses, an’ we’ll he’p ye +git ’er up safe an’ sound. They’s grape-vines +’nough in the grove. I suspicion she hain’t so fer +down. Mebby we could hear ’er if the wind wa’n’t +blowin’ to the no’th.”</p> +<p>They dared not take time for descent into the +valley after rope. Moreover, Uncle Dick was confident +that his knots would hold securely the weight +of a single person. With all speed, strands of vine +were brought and spliced most carefully. In a surprisingly +brief time, there were some seventy-five +feet in readiness. More would be added, if this +length should not suffice. When the rope was completed, +an end was securely fastened about Zeke’s +body with knots that would neither tighten nor slip. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></p> +<p>The young man had removed shoes and stockings, +and now walked boldly down the sloping surface +toward the brink. Behind him went Uncle +Dick, who was to advance as far as his foothold +should be secure. On the level above the Slide, the +three other men held the rope, ready to pay it out, +or to haul it in. Uncle Dick’s duty was to save it, +so far as might be, from being frayed on the rocks. +It was to be let out to its full length, or until the +lightened weight showed that Zeke had found support. +It was to be pulled in, in the latter case, after +three tugs on it by him. Zeke went boldly, it is +true, but now, since he had appreciated Uncle Dick’s +warning, he went with painstaking carefulness as +well. He realized that on his care might now depend +the life of the girl he loved. So, he moved downward +with increasing slowness, as the curve of the +rock grew more pronounced. At each step, he made +sure that his feet still clung. Then, when still two +yards from the edge, he found the footing too precarious +for further walking, even with the rope. +A glance over his shoulder showed that Uncle Dick +had halted a rod above. He looked closely and saw +that the brim of the cliff was smooth a little to the +right. To save the rope as much as possible, he +moved in this direction, Uncle Dick above making +the like change. Then, he seated himself on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +rock and, while the men above paid out the vine, he +went gently sliding downward toward the abyss.</p> +<p>Presently, his feet reached the brow of the cliff, +passed beyond it, hung in space. The men watching +from above, let the rope slide still more slowly. +Now his middle was at the brink. He held to the +rope with his right hand. With his left he fended +himself from the cliff. He looked down. For an +instant, accustomed though he was to the high +places among the mountain crags, his senses reeled +before the impression of unsubstantial vastness. Out +beyond him was nothingness for what seemed endless +distance. Straight below was the sheer wall of +the precipice, with hardly a rift for five hundred +feet. There a ledge showed dimly. Then, again, +a half-thousand feet of vertical rocks to the valley.</p> +<p>But the vertigo passed in that single instant. His +vision cleared. And he saw her. He heard her, too, +in the same moment. Here, the cliff was not quite +perpendicular. She had slid, rather than fallen, to a +resting place. She was not seriously injured. It +was hardly a score of feet from the top of the cliff +to the tiny shelf of rock on which she lay. This +was less than a yard in width. A bit of pine shrub +jutted from it courageously, held by its roots burrowing +in secret fissures of the rock. A log, rolled +down by some amusement-seeker on the crest, had +lodged on the outer edge of the shelf. The miniature +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +pine held one end of it; the other was wedged +in a crack of the precipice. The log lay like a paling +to the narrow shelf. Within that meager shelter, +Plutina crouched. Beyond her the ledge narrowed, +and ascended to where the cliff was broken. +Thus the dog had mounted.</p> +<p>The girl’s face was uplifted, pallid, with burning +eyes fast on the lover who descended to her. Her +expression showed rapture, but no surprise that +this rescuer should be her beloved. The fairy crystal +was competent to work any wonder. Zeke, +spinning slowly with the twisting vine, thus swinging +in the void between heaven and earth, felt, +nevertheless, the thrill of passionate adoration. She +was even more beautiful than he remembered her.</p> +<p>The shelf, though narrowing, ran toward him. +Soon, his feet touched it. At the relief from his +weight, the rope was no longer paid out, though held +taut. With its aid he traversed the ledge, and +reached the shelf where the girl knelt. He knelt +beside her, and, without a word, their lips met and +clung. There, amid the perils of the precipice, they +were in heaven.</p> +<p>For that matter, little speech passed between them +afterward. They needed none. Zeke adjusted the +rope about her, kissed her, and gave the signal to +haul away.</p> +<p>With his heart in his eyes, he watched the swaying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +form rise, and was inexpressibly relieved when +he saw her clear the brim safely. There was a short +interval. Then the rope came dangling down, and +drew him back to safety. Again the lovers were in +each other’s arms. The terror and the agony were +forgotten. The bliss remained.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII' id='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +</div> +<p>Marshal Stone and Brant were to return +together to North Wilkesboro’ where the +latter would take the train for home. +Uncle Dick had offered them horses for the ride. +The two men, somewhat in advance of the remainder +of the party after the descent of Stone Mountain, +had come near the Higgins’ cabin, when the +marshal spoke with a display of embarrassment:</p> +<p>“I’ve got to go a little out of our way. It’s a +chore I oughtn’t ever to have put off for a minute, +but I plumb forgot it.”</p> +<p>“What is it?” Brant asked indifferently.</p> +<p>But his interest was aroused as the marshal hesitated +before answering, and exhibited an increasing +confusion.</p> +<p>“I’m right ashamed to tell of it,” Stone said, +finally. “There’s no excuse for such carelessness. +Plutina got into all this mess because she was +afraid something dreadful might happen, and it +might have—on account of my forgetfulness.”</p> +<p>“What’s it all about?” Brant demanded, now +distinctly curious. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></p> +<p>“It’s bear-traps!” was the morose answer.</p> +<p>“Bear-traps?”</p> +<p>The marshal nodded.</p> +<p>“Those infernal traps Hodges set along Thunder +Branch—that made Plutina turn informer.... +Well, I just naturally forgot all about ’em.”</p> +<p>Brant uttered an ejaculation of dismay.</p> +<p>“You mean, they’re still there, and set?”</p> +<p>Stone nodded.</p> +<p>“Just that. I took Hodges and York down another +way. I’ve never thought of the traps since, +till to-day.”</p> +<p>“Risky, of course,” Brant admitted. “But nobody +got caught, or they’d have been missed,” he +added comfortingly. “Nobody in the neighborhood’s +disappeared, has there?”</p> +<p>“Not that I’ve heard of,” Stone replied. “But +it’s luck, not my deserts, if no harm’s been done.”</p> +<p>“I’ll go along with you,” Brant offered. “We’ll +have that trouble off your mind in a jiffy.”</p> +<p>So, the two men turned, and took the trail past +the Higgins’ clearing and on until they came to +Thunder Branch, where Plutina had made her discovery. +They followed the course of the stream +upward, the marshal in the lead. As he came to the +bend, where the rocky cliffs began, Stone turned and +called over his shoulder:</p> +<p>“They’re just beyond.” Then, he went forward, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +with quick, nervous strides, and disappeared beyond +the bend. A moment later, a great cry +brought Brant running.</p> +<p>It was, in truth, a ghastly scene that showed +there, lighted brilliantly by the noontide sun. In +the midst of the little space of dry ground bordering +the stream, where the lush grass grew thick +and high, the body of a man was lying. It was +contorted grotesquely, sprawling at length on its +face, in absolute stillness—the stillness of death. +Brant, himself horrified, looked pityingly at the +white, stricken face of the marshal, and turned away, +helplessly. He could find no words to lessen the +hideousness of this discovery for the man through +whose fault the tragedy had come.</p> +<p>Then, presently, as Stone seemed paralyzed by +the disaster, Brant went closer to examine the gruesome +thing.</p> +<p>The victim had been caught by both traps. Evidently, +he had stepped fairly into the first. Then, +as the great jaws snapped shut on his leg, he had +lurched forward and fallen. His arms were outspread +wide. But his head was within the second +trap. The jaws of it had clamped on the neck. The +steel fangs were sunk deep into the flesh. Blood +from the wounds was caked black on the skin.</p> +<p>“He didn’t suffer any to speak of,” Brant remarked, +at last. He observed, with some surprise, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +that his voice was very thin. He was not a squeamish +man, and he had seen many evil sights. But +this—</p> +<p>With repugnance, he set himself to the task of releasing +the trap that held the dead man’s head. He +had the delicacy not to call on his distressed companion +for aid. The task was very difficult, and +very gruesome, for it required harsh handling of +the head, which was in the way. Finally, however, +the thing was accomplished. The savage jaws +were freed from the flesh they had mangled, and +were locked open. Then, Brant turned the body +over, and gazed curiously, with strong repulsion, +into the ugly, distorted dead face.</p> +<p>“Providence picked out somebody who could be +spared,” he mused grimly.</p> +<p>There came another cry from Stone. In it were +wonder, incredulity, relief.</p> +<p>Brant regarded the marshal in amazement. The +man was transformed. The motionless figure of +desolation was become one of wild, quivering excitement. +The face was suffused with blood, the eyes +shining fiercely.</p> +<p>“What the devil!” Brant demanded, aghast.</p> +<p>Stone looked toward his questioner gravely, and +nodded with great emphasis. His voice was low, +tense with emotion. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span></p> +<p>“It is the devil!” he answered solemnly. He +paused, clearing his throat, and stared again at the +dead man. Then, his eyes went back to Brant, as +he added:</p> +<p>“It’s Hodges.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence. Brant could not understand, +could not believe this startling assertion flung +in his face.</p> +<p>“But Hodges was thrown over the precipice,” he +said, at last.</p> +<p>The marshal shook his head. There was defiance +now in his aspect—defiance, and a mighty joy.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t make any difference about that,” he +announced. “This is Hodges!”</p> +<p>Then, his exultation burst in words:</p> +<p>“Hodges caught in his own traps! His neck +broken, as it should have been broken by the rope +for the murders he’s done! It was my carelessness +did it, yes. But I don’t care now, so long as it’s +Hodges who’s got caught. Hodges set those traps, +and—there he is!... I read about something +like that once in a story. They called it ‘poetic +justice.’”</p> +<p>“He don’t look like a poem,” Brant remarked. +He turned from the gory corpse with a shudder of +disgust.</p> +<p>“Thank God, it was Hodges!” the marshal said, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +reverently. “Anybody else would have haunted me +for life. But Hodges! Why, I’m glad!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The affair was easily explicable in the light of +what Plutina had to tell. Hodges, undoubtedly, +had knowledge of some secret, hazardous path down +the face of the precipice past the Devil’s Cauldron, +and on to the valley. He had meant to flee by it +with Plutina, thus to escape the hound. By it, he +had fled alone. Perhaps, he had had a hiding-place +for money somewhere about the raided still. Or, +perhaps, he had merely chosen this route along +Thunder Branch on his way to an asylum beyond +Bull Head Mountain. What was certain was that +he had blundered into his own pitiless snares. +Naturally, he would have had no suspicion that the +traps remained. In his mad haste, he had rushed +heedlessly upon destruction. The remorseless engines +of his own devising had taken full toll of +him. By his own act, he paid with his life the penalty +for crime. There was propriety in the marshal’s +reference to poetic justice.</p> +<p>A certain vindictiveness showed in Plutina’s +comment concerning the death of the man at whose +hands she had so suffered.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +<img src='images/illus-272.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 629px; height: 437px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 629px;'> +<br /> +<i>Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick.</i><br /> +THE COMING OF PEACE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></div> +<p>“His bein’ so afeared o’ thet-thar thing kep’ ’im +from hurtin’ me,” she said, reflectively. “He was +shorely sot ag’inst havin’ ’is neck bruk, an’, arter +all, thet’s jest what he got.” She smiled, contentedly. +For Plutina was a primitive woman, +strong in her love, and strong in her hate.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>It was a day of early autumn. The timber rights +had been secured to the satisfaction of Sutton. The +tree-nail factory was being built. Zeke was become +a man of importance in the region.</p> +<p>The lover’s wedding-day was less than a month +distant. To-day, Plutina had been for a visit to +the Widow Higgins, and now Zeke was walking +home with her. They paused at the place where +had been their meeting on the morning of the lad’s +first adventuring into the world. Memories flooded +them, as they looked across the valley to the bleak +cliffs of Stone Mountain, which rose in aged, rugged +grandeur, softened in this hour by the veils of haze, +warmed with the lambent hues of sunset.</p> +<p>In answer to Plutina, Zeke shook his head perplexedly.</p> +<p>“I kain’t quite stomach thet-thar yarn o’ Seth +Jones’s,” he said. “As I remember, Dan Hodges +threw me—hard!” He grinned wryly at the recollection. +“I don’t see how I could have thrown him +off the Slide.”</p> +<p>“But of course you did!” Plutina asserted, with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +great spirit. “Pooh! Ye could lick Dan Hodges +any day in the week. An’ Seth saw ye—that settles +hit!”</p> +<p>“I suppose so,” Zeke conceded. “But Dan Hodges +was a powerful fighter. After all, I didn’t do anything +much for ye, Tiny,” he added, with regret in +his voice.</p> +<p>The girl was all indignation.</p> +<p>“Why, Zeke!” she cried. “The idea! Ye did hit +all. Ye banged the love o’ ye into thet-thar dawg, +what hung on to me an’ brung up the fairy cross +fer a message.” Chubbie, as if understanding, +leaped to lick her hand. “An’ ye give me the +cross, Zeke. Mebby, thet’s what saved me, all the +time—thar on the precipice, an’—an’ back thar—in +the cave—with him. An’ then ye threw Dan +Hodges right offen the mounting. Seth Jones seen +ye do hit!”</p> +<p>It seemed to Zeke that he must perforce accept the +heroism thrust upon him, though a doubt still lingered. +Still, his memory of the fight was confused. +Perhaps, after all, he had—.</p> +<p>Zeke broke off, and drew the girl close. Their +lips met gently, tenderly, with the clinging of passion. +What mattered the history of evil days? They +were past. Before them lay the future, radiant +with rosy promise. In this blessed present, they +were together. Love thrilled exquisitely on their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +lips; more exquisitely in their souls. That love was, +and it would remain, a noble and precious thing, +great and very beautiful, as mighty and firm as +the mountain looming yonder in immutable serenity +and strength, as loyal, as enduring.... They +walked on together, infinitely content.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-301.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-302.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-303.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-304.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 0.21a --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Mar 30 07:09:07 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Heart of the Blue Ridge, by Waldron Baily + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEART OF THE BLUE RIDGE *** + +***** This file should be named 28454-h.htm or 28454-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/5/28454/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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