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diff --git a/old/proju10.txt b/old/proju10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2844bd1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/proju10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15607 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Judge, by Vaughan Kester + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Prodigal Judge + +Author: Vaughan Kester + +Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5129] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 5, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE PRODIGAL JUDGE *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Polly Stratton. + + + +THE PRODIGAL JUDGE BY VAUGHAN KESTER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE BOY AT THE BARONY + + +The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine +woods whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low +coast, but this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and +race, old General Quintard, was dead in the great house his +father had built almost a century before and the thin acres of +the Barony, where he had made his last stand against age and +poverty, were to claim him, now that he had given up the struggle +in their midst. The two or three old slaves about the place, +stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their master +had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own +blood and class none was present. + +Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and +sunbonneted women, who were gathering for the burial of the +famous man of their neighborhood, grouped themselves about the +lawn which had long since sunk to the uses of a pasture lot. +Singly or by twos and threes they stole up the steps and across +the wide porch to the open door. On the right of the long hall +another door stood open, and who wished could enter the +drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the +wonderful fireplace with the Dutch tiles that graphically +depicted the story of Jonah and the whale. + +Here the general lay in state. The slaves had dressed their old +master in the uniform he had worn as a colonel of the continental +line, but the thin shoulders of the wasted figure no longer +filled the buff and blue coat. The high-bred face, once proud +and masterful no doubt, as became the face of a Quintard, spoke +of more than age and poverty--it was infinitely sorrowful. Yet +there was something harsh and unforgiving in the lines death had +fixed there, which might have been taken as the visible impress +of that mystery, the bitterness of which had misshaped the dead +man's nature; but the resolute lips had closed for ever on their +secret, and the broken spirit had gone perhaps to learn how poor +a thing its pride had been. + +Though he had lived continuously at the Barony for almost a +quarter of a century, there was none among his neighbors who +could say he had looked on that thin, aquiline face in all that +time. Yet they had known much of him, for the gossip of the +slaves, who had been his only friends in those years he had +chosen to deny himself to other friends, had gone far and wide +over the county. + +That notable man of business, Jonathan Crenshaw--and this +superiority was especially evident when the business chanced to +be his own--was closeted in the library with a stranger to whom +rumor fixed the name of Bladen, supposing him to be the legal +representative of certain remote connections of the old +general's. + +Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped mahogany desk in the center +of the room with several well-thumbed account-books open before +him. Bladen, in riding dress, stood by the window. + +"I suppose you will buy in the property when it comes up for +sale?" the latter was saying. + +Mr. Crenshaw had already made it plain that General Quintard's +creditors would have lean pickings at the Barony, intimating that +he himself was the chiefest of these and the one to suffer most +grievously in pocket. Further than this, Mr. Bladen saw that the +old house was a ruin, scarcely habitable, and that the thin +acres, though they were many and a royal grant, were of the +slightest value. Crenshaw nodded his acquiescence to the +lawyer's conjecture touching the ultimate fate of the Barony. + +"I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect myself, but if there are any +of his own kin who have a fancy to the place I'll put no obstacle +in their way." + +"Who are the other creditors?" asked Bladen. + +"There ain't none, sir; they just got tired waiting on him, and +when they began to sue and get judgment the old general would +send me word to settle with them, and their claims passed into my +hands. I was in too deep to draw out. But for the last ten +years his dealings were all with me; I furnished the supplies for +the place here. It didn't amount to much, as there was only him +and the darkies, and the account ran on from year to year." + +"He lived entirely alone, saw no one, I understand," said Bladen. + +"Alone with his two or three old slaves--yes, sir. He wouldn't +even see me; Joe, his old nigger, would fetch orders for this or +that. Once or twice I rode out to see him, but I wa'n't even +allowed inside that door; the message I got was that he couldn't +be disturbed, and the last time I come he sent me word that if I +annoyed him again he would be forced to terminate our business +relations. That was pretty strong talk, wa'n't it, when you +consider that I could have sold the roof from over his head and +the land from under his feet? Oh, well, I just put it down to +childishness." There was a brief pause, then Crenshaw spoke +again. "I reckon, sir, if you know anything about the old +general's private affairs you don't feel no call to speak on that +point?" he observed, and with evident regret. He had hoped that +Bladen would clear up the mystery, for certainly it must have +been some sinister tragedy that had cost the general his grip on +life and for twenty years and more had made of him a recluse, so +that the faces of his friends had become as the faces of +strangers. + +"My dear sir, I know nothing of General Quintard's private, +history. I am even unacquainted with my clients, who are distant +cousins, but his nearest kin--they live in South Carolina. I was +merely instructed to represent them in the event of his death and +to look after their interests." + +"That's business," said Crenshaw, nodding. + +"All I know is this: General Quintard was a conspicuous man in +these parts fifty years ago; that was before my time, Mr. +Crenshaw, and I take it, too, it was before yours; he married a +Beaufort." + +"So he did," said Crenshaw, "and there was one child, a daughter; +she married a South Carolinian by the name of Turberville. I +remember that, fo' they were married under the gallery in the +hall. Great folks, those Turbervilles, rolling rich. My father +was manager then fo' the general--that was nearly forty years +ago. There was life here then, sir; the place was alive with +niggers and the house full of guests from one month's end to +another." He drummed on the desktop. "Who'd a thought it wa'n't +to last for ever!" + +"And what became of the daughter who married Turberville ?" + +"Died years ago," said Crenshaw. "She was here the last time +about thirty years back. It wa'n't so easy to get about in those +days, no roads to speak of and no stages, and besides, the old +general wa'n't much here nohow; her going away had sort of broken +up his home, I reckon. Then the place stood empty fo' a few +years, most of the slaves were sold off, and the fields began to +grow up. No one rightly knew, but the general was supposed to be +traveling up yonder in the No'th, sir. As I say, things ran +along this way quite a while, and then one morning when I went to +my store my clerk says, 'There's an old white-headed nigger been +waiting round here fo' a word with you, Mr. Crenshaw.' It was +Joe, the general's body servant, and when I'd shook hands with +him I said, 'When's the master expected back?' You see, I +thought Joe had been sent on ahead to open the house, but he +says, 'General Quintard's at the Barony now,' and then he says, +'The general's compliments, sir, and will you see that this order +is filled?' Well, Mr. Bladen, I and my father had factored the +Barony fo' fifteen years and upward, but that was the first time +the supplies fo' the general's table had ever been toted here in +a meal sack! + +"I rode out that very afternoon, but Joe, who was one of your +mannerly niggers, met me at the door and says, 'Mr. Crenshaw, the +general appreciates this courtesy, but regrets that he is unable +to see you, sir.' After that it wa'n't long in getting about +that the general was a changed man. Other folks came here to +welcome him back and he refused to see them, but the reason of it +we never learned. Joe, who probably knew, was one of your close +niggers; there was, no getting anything out of him; you could +talk with that darky by the hour, sir, and he left you feeling +emptier than if he'd kept his mouth shut." + +They were interrupted by a knock at the door. + +"Come in," said Crenshaw, a trifle impatiently, and in response +to his bidding the door opened and a small boy entered the room +dragging after him a long rifle. Suddenly overcome by a +speechless shyness, he paused on the threshold to stare with +round, wondering eyes at the two men. "Well, sonny, what do you +want?" asked Mr. Crenshaw indulgently. + +The boy opened his mouth, but his courage failed him, and with +his courage went the words he would have spoken. + +"Who is this?" asked Bladen. + +"I'll tell, you presently," said Crenshaw. "Come, speak up, +sonny, what do you want?" + +"Please, sir, I want this here old spo'tin' rifle," said: the +child. "Please, sir, I want to keep it," he added. + +"Well, you run along on out of here with your old spo'tin' +rifle!" said Crenshaw good-naturedly. + +"Please, sir, am I to keep it?" + +"Yes, I reckon you may keep it--least I've no objection." +Crenshaw glanced at Bladen. + +"Oh, by all means," said the latter. Spasms of delight shook the +small figure, and with a murmur that was meant for thanks he +backed from the room, closing the door. Bladen glanced +inquiringly at Crenshaw. + +"You want to know about him, sir? Well, that's Hannibal Wayne +Hazard." + +"Hannibal Wayne Hazard?" repeated Bladen. + +"Yes, sir; the general was the authority on that point, but who +Hannibal Wayne Hazard is and how he happens to be at the Barony +is another mystery--just wait a minute, sir--" and quitting his +chair Mr. Crenshaw hurried from the room to return almost +immediately with a tall countryman. "Mr. Bladen, this is Bob +Yancy. Bob, the gentleman, wants to hear about the woman and the +child; that's your story." + +"Howdy, sir," said Mr. Yancy. He appeared to meditate on the +mental effort that was required of him, then he took a long +breath. "It was this a-ways--" he began with a soft drawl, and +then paused. "You give me the dates, Mr. John, fo' I +disremember." + +"It was four year ago come next Christmas," said Crenshaw. + +"Old Christmas," corrected Mr. Yancy. "Our folks always kept the +old Christmas like it was befo' they done mussed up the calendar. +I'm agin all changes," added Mr. Yancy. + +"He means the fo'teenth of December," explained Mr. Crenshaw. + +"Not wishin' to dispute your word, Mr. John, I mean Christmas," +objected Yancy. + +"Oh, very well, he means Christmas then!" said Crenshaw. + +"The evening befo', it was, and I'd gone to Fayetteville to get +my Christmas fixin's; there was right much rain and some snow +falling." Mr. Yancy's guiding light was clearly accuracy. "Just +at sundown I hooked up that blind mule of mine to the cart and +started fo' home. As I got shut of the town the stage come in +and I seen one passenger, a woman. Now that mule is slow, Mr. +John; I'm free to say there are faster mules, but a set of +harness never went acrost the back of a slower critter than that +one of mine." Yancy, who thus far had addressed himself to Mr. +Crenshaw, now turned to Bladen. "That mule, sir, sees good with +his right eye, but it's got a gait like it was looking fo' the +left-hand side of the road and wondering what in thunderation had +got into it that it was acrost the way; mules are gifted with +some sense, but mighty little judgment." + +"Never mind the mule, Bob," said Crenshaw. + +"If I can't make the gentleman believe in the everlasting +slowness of that mule of mine, my story ain't worth a hill of +beans," said Yancy. + +"The extraordinary slowness of the mule is accepted without +question, Mr. Yancy," said Bladen. + +"I'm obliged to you," rejoined Yancy, and for a brief moment he +appeared to commune with himself, then he continued. "A mile out +of town I heard some one sloshing through the rain after me; it +was dark by that time and I couldn't see who it was, so I pulled +up and waited, and then I made out it was a woman. She spoke +when she was alongside the cart and says, 'Can you drive me on to +the Barony?' and it came to me it was the same woman I'd seen +leave the stage. When I got down to help her into the cart I saw +she was toting a child in her arms." + +"What did the woman look like, Bob?" said Crenshaw. + +"She wa'n't exactly old and she wa'n't young by no manner of +means; I remember saying to myself, that child ain't yo's, whose +ever it is. Well, sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she +wa'n't, she hardly spoke until we came to the red gate, when she +says, 'Stop, if you please, I'll walk the rest of the way.' Mind +you, she'd known without a word from me we were at the Barony. +She give me a dollar, and the last I seen of her she was hurrying +through the rain toting the child in her arms." + +Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative. + +"The niggers say the old general almost had a fit when he saw +her. Aunt Alsidia let her into the house; I reckon if Joe had +been alive she wouldn't have got inside that door, spite of the +night!" + +"Well?" said Bladen. + +"When morning come she was gone, but the child done stayed +behind; we always reckoned the lady walked back to Fayetteville +sometime befo' day and took the stage. I've heard Aunt Alsidia +tell as how the old general said that morning, pale and shaking +like, 'You'll find a boy asleep in the red room; he's to be fed +and cared fo', but keep him out of my sight. His name is +Hannibal Wayne Hazard.' That is all the general ever said on the +matter. He never would see the boy, never asked after him even, +and the boy lived in the back of the house, with the niggers to +look after him. Now, sir, you know as much as we know, which is +just next door to nothing." + +The old general was borne across what had once been the west lawn +to his resting-place in the neglected acre where the dead and +gone of his race lay, and the record of the family was complete, +as far as any man knew. Crenshaw watched the grave take shape +with a melancholy for which he found no words, yet if words could +have come from the mist of ideas in which his mind groped vaguely +he would have said that for themselves the deeds of the Quintards +had been given the touch of finality, and that whether for good +or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which rises from +the surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still +survived somewhere in the world. + +The curious and the idle drifted back to the great house; then +the memory of their own affairs, not urgent, generally speaking, +but still of some casual interest, took them down the disused +carriage-way to the red gate and so off into the heat of the +summer day. Crenshaw's wagon, driven by Crenshaw's man, vanished +in a cloud of gray dust with the two old slaves, Aunt Alsidia and +Uncle Ben, who were being taken to the Crenshaw place to be cared +for pending the settlement of the Quintard estate. Bladen parted +from Crenshaw with expressions of pleasure at having had the +opportunity of making his acquaintance, and further delivered +himself of the civil wish that they might soon meet again. Then +Crenshaw, assisted by Bob Yancy, proceeded to secure the great +house against intrusion. + +"I make it a p'int to always stay and see the plumb finish of a +thing," explained Yancy. "Otherwise you're frequently put out by +hearing of what happened after you left; I can stand anything but +disapp'intment of that kind." + +They passed from room to room securing doors and windows, and at +last stepped out upon the back porch. + +"Hullo!" said Yancy, pointing. + +There on a bench by the kitchen door was a small figure. It was +Hannibal Wayne Hazard asleep, with his old spo'tin' rifle across +his knees. His very existence had been forgotten. + +"Well, I declare to goodness!" said Crenshaw. + +"What are you going to do with him, Mr. John?" + +This question nettled Crenshaw. + +"I don't know as that is any particular affair of mine," he said. +Now, Mr. Crenshaw, though an excellent man of business, with an +unblinking eye on number one, was kindly, on the whole, but there +was a Mrs. Crenshaw, to whom he rendered a strict account of all +his deeds, and that sacred institution, the home, was only a +tolerable haven when these deeds were nicely calculated to fit +with the lady's exactions. Especially was he aware that Mrs. +Crenshaw was averse to children as being inimical to cleanliness +and order, oppressive virtues that drove Crenshaw himself in his +hours of leisure to the woodshed, where he might spit freely. + +"I reckon you'd rather drop a word with yo' missus before you +toted him home?" suggested Yancy, who knew something of the +nature of his friend's domestic thraldom. + +"A woman ought to be boss in her own house," said Crenshaw. + +"Feelin' the truth of that, I've never married, Mr. John; I do as +I please and don't have to listen to a passel of opinion. But I +was going to say, what's to hinder me from toting that boy to my +home? There are no calico petticoats hanging up in my closets." + +"And no closets to hang 'em in, I'll be bound!" rejoined +Crenshaw. "But if you'll take the boy, Bob, you shan't lose by +it." + +Yancy rested a big knotted hand on the boy's shoulder. + +"Come, wake up, sonny! Yo' Uncle Bob is ready fo' to strike out +home," he said. The child roused with a start and stared into +the strange bearded face that was bent toward him. "It's yo' +Uncle Bob," continued Yancy in a wheedling tone. "Are you the +little nevvy what will help him to hook up that old blind mule of +hisn ? Here, give us the spo'tin' rifle to tote!" + +"Please, sir, where is Aunt Alsidia?" asked the child. + +Yancy balanced the rifle on his great palm and his eyes assumed a +speculative cast. + +"I wonder what's to hinder us from loading this old gun, and +firing this old gun, and hearing this old gun go-bang! Eh?" + +The child's blue eyes grew wide. + +"Like the guns off in the woods?" he asked, in a breathless +whisper. + +"Like the guns a body hears off in the woods, only louder--heaps +louder," said Yancy. "You fetch out his plunder, Mr. John," he +added in a lower tone. + +"Do it now, please," the child cried, slipping off the bench. + +"I was expectin' fo' to hear you name me Uncle Bob, sonny; my +little nevvies get almost anything they want out of me when they +call me that-a-ways." + +"Please, Uncle Bob, make it go bang!" + +"You come along, then," and Mr. Yancy moved off in the direction +of his mule, the child following. "Powder's what we want fo' to +make this old spo'tiu' rifle talk up, and I reckon we'll find +some in a horn flask in the bottom of my cart." His expectations +in this particular were realized, and he loaded the rifle with a +small blank charge. 'Now," he said, shaking the powder into the +pan by a succession of smart taps on the breech, "sometimes these +old pieces go off and sometimes they don't; it depends on the +flint, but you stand back of your Uncle Bob, sonny, and keep yo' +fingers out of yo' ears, and when you say--bang!-- off she goes." + +There was a moment of delightful expectancy, and then-- + +"Bang!" cried the child, and on the instant the rifle cracked. +"Do it againQ Please, Uncle Bob!" he cried, wild with delight. + +"Now if you was to help yo' Uncle Bob hook up that old mule of +hisn and ride home with him, fo' he's going pretty shortly, you +and Uncle Bob could do right much shootin' with this old rifle." +Mr. Crenshaw had appeared with a bundle, which he tossed into the +cart. Yancy turned to him. "If you meet any inquiring friends, +Mr. John, I reckon you may say that my nevvy's gone fo' to pay me +a visit. Most of his time will be agreeably spent shootin' with +this rifle at a mark, and me holdin' him so he won't get kicked +clean off his feet." + +Thereafter beguiling speech flowed steadily from Mr. Yancy's +bearded lips, in the midst of which relations were established +between the mule and cart, and the boy quitted the Barony for a +new world. + +"Do you reckon if Uncle Bob was to let you, you could drive, +sonny?" + +"Can she gallop?" asked the boy. + +Mr. Yancy gave him a hurt glance. + +"She's too much of a lady to do that," he said. "No, I 'low this +ain't 'so fast as running or walking, but it's a heap quicker +than standing stock-still." The afternoon sun waned as they went +deeper and deeper into the pine woods, but at last they came to +their journey's end, a widely scattered settlement on a hill +above a branch. + +"This," said Mr. Yancy, "are Scratch Hill, sonny. Why Scratch +Hill? Some say it's the fleas; others agin hold it's the eternal +bother of making a living here, but whether fleas or living you +scratch fo' both." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +YANCY TELLS A MORAL TALE + + +In the deep peace that rested like a benediction on the pine-clad +slopes of Scratch Hill the boy Hannibal followed at Yancy's heels +as that gentleman pursued the not arduous rounds of temperate +industry which made up his daily life, for if Yancy were not +completely idle he was responsible for a counterfeit presentment +of idleness having most of the merits of the real article. He +toiled casually in a small cornfield and a yet smaller truck +patch, but his work always began late, when it began at all, and +he was easily dissuaded from continuing it; indeed, his attitude +toward it seemed to challenge interference. + +In the winter, when the weather conditions were perfectly +adjusted to meet certain occult exactions he had come to require, +Yancy could be induced to go into the woods and there labor with +his ax. But as he pointed out to Hannibal, a poor man's capital +was his health, and he being a poor man it behooved him to have a +jealous care of himself. He made use of the dull days of mingled +mist and drizzle for hunting, work being clearly out of the +question; one could get about over the brown floor of the forest +in silence then, and there was no sun to glint the brass +mountings of his rifle. The fine days he professed to regard +with keen suspicion as weather breeders, when it was imprudent to +go far from home, especially in the direction of the Crenshaw +timber lands, which for years had been the scene of all his +gainful industry, and where he seemed to think nature ready to +assume her most sinister aspect. Again in the early spring, when +the young oak leaves were the size of squirrel's ears and the +whippoorwills began calling as the long shadows struck through +the pine woods, the needs of his corn ground battled with his +desire to fish. In all such crises of the soul Mr. Yancy was +fairly vanquished before the struggle began; but to the boy his +activities were perfectly ordered to yield the largest return in +contentment. + +The Barony had been offered for sale and bought in by Crenshaw +for eleven thousand dollars, this being the amount of his claim. +Some six months later he sold the plantation for fifteen thousand +dollars to Nathaniel Ferris, of Currituck County. + +"There's money in the old place, Bob, at that figure," Crenshaw +told Yancy. + +"There are so," agreed Yancy, who was thinking Crenshaw had lost +no time in getting it out. + +They were seated on the counter in Crenshaw's store at Balaam's +Cross Roads, where the heavy odor of black molasses battled with +the sprightly smell of salt fish. The merchant held the Scratch +Hiller in no small esteem. Their intimacy was of long standing, +for the Yancys going down and the Crenshaws coming up had for a +brief space flourished on the same social level. Mr. Crenshaw's +rise in life, however, had been uninterrupted, while Mr. Yancy, +wrapped in a philosophic calm and deeply averse to industry, had +permitted the momentum imparted by a remote ancestor to carry him +where it would, which was steadily away from that tempered +prosperity his family had once boasted as members of the +land-owning and slaveholding class. + +"I mean there's money in the place fo' Ferris," Crenshaw +explained. + +"I reckon yo're right, Mr. John; the old general used to spend a +heap on the Barony and we all know he never got a cent back, so I +reckon the money's there yet. + +"Bladen's got an answer from them South Carolina Quintards, and +they don't know nothing about the boy," said Crenshaw, changing +the subject. "So you can rest easy, Bob; they ain't going to +want him." + +"Well, sir, that surely is a passel of comfort to me. I find I +got all the instincts of a father without having had none of the +instincts of a husband." + +A richer, deeper realization of his joy came to Yancy when he had +turned his back on Balaam's Cross Roads and set out for home +through the fragrant silence of the pine woods. His probable +part in the young life chance had placed in his keeping was a +glorious thing to the man. He had not cared to speculate on the +future; he had believed that friends or kindred must sooner or +later claim Hannibal, but now he felt wonderfully secure in +Crenshaw's opinion that this was not to be. + +Just beyond the Barony, which was midway between Balaam's and the +Hill, down the long stretch of sandy road he saw two mounted +figures, then as they drew nearer he caught the flutter of skirts +and recognized one of the horsewomen. It was Mrs. Ferris, wife +of the Barony's new owner. She reined in her horse abreast of +his cart. + +"Aren't you Mr. Yancy?" she asked. + +"Yes, ma'am, that's me--Bob Yancy." He regarded her with large +gray eyes that were frankly approving in their expression, for +she was more than commonly agreeable to look upon. + +"I am Mrs. Ferris, and I am very pleased to make your +acquaintance." + +"The same here," murmured Yancy with winning civility. + +Mrs. Ferris' companion leaned forward, her face averted, and +stroked her horse's neck with gloved hand. + +"This is my friend, Miss Betty Malroy." + +"Glad to know you, ma'am," said Yancy. + +Miss Malroy faced him, smiling. She, too, was very good to look +upon, indeed she was quite radiant with youth and beauty. + +"We are just returning from Scratch Hill--I think that is what +you call it?" said Mrs. Ferris. + +"So we do," agreed Yancy. + +"And the dear little boy we met is your nephew, is he not, Mr. +Yancy?" It was Betty Malroy who spoke. + +"In a manner he is and in a manner he ain't," explained Yancy, +somewhat enigmatically. + +"There are quite a number of children at Scratch Hill?" suggested +Mrs. Ferris. + +"Yes, ma'am, so there are; a body would naturally notice that." + +"And no school--not a church even!" continued Mrs. Ferris in a +grieved tone. + +"Never has been," rejoined Yancy cheerfully. He seemed to +champion the absence of churches and schools on the score of long +usage. + +"But what do the people do when they want to go to church?" +questioned Mrs. Ferris. + +"Never having heard that any of 'em wanted to go I can't say just +offhand, but don't you fret none about that, ma'am; there are +churches; one's up at the Forks, and there's another at Balaam's +Cross Roads." + +"But that's ten miles from Scratch Hill, isn't it?" + +"It's all of that," said Yancy. He sensed it that the lady +before him, was a person of much force and energy, capable even +of reckless innovation. Mr. Yancy himself was innately +conservative; his religious inspiration had been drawn from the +Forks and Balaam's Cross Roads. It had seemed to answer very +well. Mrs. Ferris fixed his wavering glance. + +"Don't you think it is too bad, Mr. Yancy, the way those children +have been neglected? There is nothing for them but to run wild." + +"Well, I seen some right good children fetched up that-a-ways +--smart, too. You see, ma'am, there's a heap a child can just +naturally pick up of himself." + +"Oh!" and the monosyllable was uttered rather weakly. Mr. +Yancy's name had been given her as that of a resident of weight +and influence in the classic region of Scratch Hill. Miss Malroy +came to her friend's rescue. + +"Mrs. Ferris thinks the children should have a chance to learn at +home. Poor little tots!--they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to +Sunday-school, now can they, Mr. Yancy ?" + +"Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!" said Yancy reassuringly. +"Sunday's a day of rest at Scratch Hill. So are most of the +other days of the week, but we all aspire to take just a little +mo' rest on Sunday than any other day. Sometimes we ain't able +to, but that's our aim." + +"Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?--the Blount +place?" asked Mrs. Ferris. + +"Yes, ma'am, I know it." + +"I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they +shan't be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel +guilty, quite guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come? +Perhaps they'll not find it so very terrible, after all." From +which Mr. Yancy concluded that when she invaded it, skepticism +had rested as a mantle on Scratch Hill. + +"Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we +were hoping to meet you as we came along," supplemented Miss +Malroy, and her words of flattery were wafted to him with so +sweet a smile that Yancy instantly capitulated. + +"I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," he said. + +When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day, +Hannibal, in a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed, +which served as a barn. + +"I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob +was away," observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told +him, he rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special +tenderness. + +"There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!" +said the boy. "May I go?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take +me?" + +"When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?" + +"To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob." + +"She's a quick lady, ain't she? Well, I expected you'd be +hopping around on one leg when you named it to me. You wait +until Sunday and see what I do fo' my nevvy," said Yancy. + +He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began +discouragingly with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an +unnecessary amount of soap and water. + +"You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of +worship. Just suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her +eye back of yo' ears! She'd surely be put out to name it offhand +whether you was black or white. I reckon I'll have to barber you +some, too, with the shears." + +"What's school like, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal, twisting and +squirming under the big resolute hands of the man. + +"I can't just say what it's like." + +"Why, didn't you ever go to school, Uncle Bob?" + +"Didn't I ever go to school! Where do you reckon I got my +education, anyhow? I went to school several times in my young +days." + +"On a Sunday, like this?" + +"No, the school I tackled was on a week-day." + +"Was it hard?" asked Hannibal, who was beginning to cherish +secret misgivings; for surely all this soap and water must have +some sinister portent + +"Well, some learn easier than others. I learned middling easy +--it didn't take me long--and when I felt I knowed enough I just +naturally quit and went on about my business." + +"But what did you learn?" insisted the boy. + +"You-all wouldn't know if I told you, because you-all ain't ever +been to school yo'self. When you've had yo' education we'll talk +over what I learned--it mostly come out of a book." He hoped his +general statement would satisfy Hannibal, but it failed to do so. + +"What's a book. Uncle Bob?" he demanded. + +"Well, whatever a body don't know naturally he gets out of a +book. I reckon the way you twist, Nevvy, mebby you'd admire fo' +to lose an ear!" and Mr. Yancy refused further to discuss the +knowledge he had garnered in his youth. + +Hannibal and Yancy were the first to arrive at the deserted cabin +in the old field that afternoon. They found the place had been +recently cleaned and swept, while about the wall was ranged a row +of benches; there was also a table and two chairs. Yancy +inspected the premises with the eye of mature experience. + +"Yes, it surely is a school; any one with an education would know +that. Just look!--ain't you glad yo' Uncle Bob slicked you up +some, now you see what them ladies has done fo' to make this +place tidy?" + +Shy children from the pine woods, big brothers with little +sisters and big sisters with little brothers, drifted out of the +encircling forest. Coincident with the arrival of the last of +these stragglers Mrs. Ferris and Miss Malroy appeared, attended +by a colored groom. + +"It was so good of you to come, Mr. Yancy! The children won't +feel so shy with you here," said Mrs. Ferris warmly, as Yancy +assisted her to dismount, an act of courtesy that called for his +finest courage. + +Mrs. Ferris' missionary spirit manifested itself agreeably enough +on the whole. When she had ranged her flock in a solemn-faced +row on the benches, she began by explaining why Sunday was set +apart for a day of rest, touching but lightly on its deeper +significance as a day of worship as well; then she read certain +chapters from the Bible, finishing with the story of David, a +narrative that made a deep impression upon Yancy, comfortably +seated in the doorway. + +"Can't you tell the children a story, Mr. Yancy? Something about +their own neighborhood I think would be nice, something with a +moral," the pleasant earnest voice f Mrs. Ferris roused the +Scratch Hiller from his meditations. + +"Yes, ma'am, I reckon I can tell 'em a story." He stood up, +filling the doorway with his bulk. "I can tell you-all a story +about this here house," he said, addressing himself to the +children. He smiled happily. "You-all don't need to look so +solemn, a body ain't going to snap at you! This house are the +old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved away from it years +and years ago. They're down Fayetteville way now. There was a +passel of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white folks +as you'd find anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here +once and Dave Blount called me a liar right in this very room." +He paused, that this impressive fact might disseminate itself. +Hannibal slid forward in his seat, his earnest little face bent +on Yancy. + +"Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?" he demanded. + +"Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he +stuck some words in front of it that ain't fitten I should +repeat." + +Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused +to meet her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased +expectancy. They felt the wholly contemporary interest of +Yancy's story; he was dealing with forms of speech which +prevailed and were usually provocative of consequences more or +less serious. He gave them a wide, sunny smile. + +"When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home." At +this surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their +disgust, and Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance. "Yes, +ma'am, I struck out across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to +hear no mo' of that loose kind of talk. When I got home I found +my old daddy setting up afo' the fire, and he says, 'You come +away early, son.' I told him what Dave Blount had called me and +he says, 'You acted like a gentleman, Bob, with all them +womenfolks about."' + +"You had a very good and sensible father, Mr. Yancy. How much +better than if--" began Mrs. Ferris, who feared that the moral +might elude him. + +"Yes, ma'am, but along about day he come into the loft where I +was sleeping and says to me, 'Sun-up, Bob--time fo' you to haul +on yo' pants and go back yonder and fetch that Dave Blount a +smack in the jaw.'" Mrs. Ferris moved uneasily in her chair: "I +dressed and come here, but when I asked fo' Dave he wouldn't step +outside, so I just lost patience with his foolishness and took a +crack at him standing where I'm standing now, but he ducked and +you can still see, ma'am"--turning to the embarrassed Mrs. +Ferris--"where my knuckles made a dint in the door-jamb. I got +him the next lick, though!" + +Mr. Yancy's moral tale had reached its conclusion; it was not for +him to boast unduly of his prowess. + +"Uncle Bob, you lift me up and show me them dints!" and Hannibal +slipped from his seat. + +"Oh, no!" said Betty Malroy laughing. She captured the boy and +drew him down beside her on a corner of her chair. "I am sure +you don't want to see the dents--Mr. Yancy's story, children, is +to teach us how important it is to guard our words--and not give +way to hasty speech--" + +"Betty!" cried Mrs. Ferris indignantly. + +"Judith, the moral is as obvious as it is necessary." + +Mrs. Ferris gave her a reproachful look and turned to the +children. + +"You will all be here next Sunday, won't you?--and at the same +hour?" she said, rising. + +There was a sudden clatter of hoofs beyond the door. A man, well +dressed and well mounted had ridden into the yard. As Mrs. +Ferris came from the cabin he flung himself out of the saddle +and, hat in hand, approached her. + +"I am hunting a place called the Barony; can you tell me if I am +on the right road?" he asked. He was a man in the early +thirties, graceful and powerful of build, with a handsome face. + +"It is my husband you wish to see? I am Mrs. Ferris." + +"Then General Quintard is dead?" His tone was one of surprise. + +"His death occurred over a year ago, and my husband now owns the +Barony; were you a friend of the general's ?" + +"No, Madam; he was my father's friend, but I had hoped to meet +him." His manner was adroit and plausible. + +Mrs. Ferris hesitated. The stranger's dress and bearing was that +of a gentleman, and he could boast of his father's friendship +with General Quintard. Any doubts she may have had she put +aside. + +"Will you ride on with us to the Barony and meet my husband, Mr. +--?" she paused. + +"Murrell--Captain Murrell. Thank you; I should like to see the +old place. I should highly value the privilege," then his eyes +rested on Miss Malroy. + +"Betty, let me present Captain Murrell." + +The captain bowed, giving her a glance of bold admiration. + +By this time the children had straggled off into the pine woods +as silently as they had assembled; only Yancy and Hannibal +remained. Mrs. Ferris turned to the former. + +"If you will close the cabin door, Mr. Yancy, everything will be +ready for next Sunday," she said, and moved toward the horses, +followed by Murrell. Betty Malroy lingered for a moment at +Hannibal's side. + +"Good-by, little boy; you must ask your Uncle Bob to bring you up +to the big house to see me," and stooping she kissed him. +"Good-by, Mr. Yancy, I liked your story." + +Hannibal and Yancy watched them mount and ride away, then the boy +said: + +"Uncle Bob, now them ladies have gone, won't you please show me +them dints you made in the doorjamb?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +TROUBLE AT SCRATCH HILL + + +Captain Murrell had established himself at Balaam's Cross Roads. +He was supposed to be interested in the purchase of a plantation, +and in company with Crenshaw visited the numerous tracts of land +which the merchant owned; but though he professed delight with +the country, he was plainly in no haste to become committed to +any one of the several propositions Crenshaw was eager to submit. +Later, and still in the guise of a prospective purchaser, he met +Bladen, who also dealt extensively in land, and apparently if +anything could have pleased him more than the region about the +Cross Roads it was the country adjacent to Fayetteville. + +From the first he had assiduously cultivated his acquaintance +with the new owners of the Barony. He was now on the best of +terms with Nat Ferris, and it was at the Barony that he lounged +away his evenings, gossiping and smoking with the planter on the +wide veranda. + +"The Barony would have suited me," he told Bladen one day. They +had just returned from an excursion into the country and were +seated in the lawyer's office. + +"You say your father was a friend of the old general's?" said +Bladen. + +"Years ago, in the north--yes," answered Murrell. + +"Odd, isn't it, the way he chose to spend the last years of his +life, shut off like that and seeing no one?" + +Murrell regarded the lawyer in silence for a moment out of his +deeply sunk eyes. + +"Too bad about the boy," he said at length slowly. + +"How do you mean, Captain?" asked Bladen. + +"I mean it's a pity he has no one except Yancy to look after +him," said Murrell, but Bladen showed no interest and Murrell +went on. "Don't you reckon he must have touched General +Quintard's life mighty close at some point?" + +"Well, if so, it eluded me," said Bladen. "I went through +General Quintard's papers and they contained no clue to the boy's +identity that I could discover. Fact is, the general didn't +leave much beyond an old account-book or two; I imagine that +before his death he destroyed the bulk of his private papers; it +looked as if he'd wished to break with the past. His mind must +have been affected." + +"Has Yancy any legal claim on the boy?" inquired Murrell. + +"No, certainly not; the boy was merely left with Yancy because +Crenshaw didn't know what else to do with him." + +"Get possession of him, and if I don't buy land here I'll take +him West with me," said Murrell quietly. Bladen gave him a +swift, shrewd glance, but Murrell, smiling and easy, met it +frankly. "Come," he said, "it's a pity he should grow up wild in +the pine woods--get him away from Yancy--I am' willing to spend +five hundred dollars on this if necessary." + +"As a matter of sentiment?" + +"As a matter of sentiment." + +Bladen considered. He was not averse to making five hundred +dollars, but he was decidedly averse to letting slip any chance +to secure a larger sum. It flashed in upon him that Murrell had +uncovered the real purpose of his visit to North Carolina; his +interest in land had been merely a subterfuge. + +"Well?" said Murrell. + +"I'll have to think your proposition over," said Bladen. + +The immediate result of this conversation was that within +twenty-four hours a man driving two horses hitched to a light +buggy arrived at Scratch Hill in quest of Bob Yancy, whom he +found at dinner and to whom he delivered a letter. Mr. Yancy was +profoundly impressed by the attention, for holding the letter at +arm's length, he said + +"Well, sir, I've lived nigh on to forty years, but I never got a +piece of writing befo'--never, sir. People, if they was close +by, spoke to me, if at a distance they hollered, but none of 'em +ever wrote." After gazing at the written characters with +satisfaction Mr. Yancy made a taper of the letter and lit his +pipe, which he puffed meditatively. "Sonny, when you grow up you +must learn so you can send writings to yo' Uncle Bob fo' him to +light his pipe with." + +"What was in the paper, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal. + +"Writin'," said Mr. Yancy, and smoked. + +"What did the writin' say, Uncle Bob?" insisted the boy. + +"It was private," said Mr. Yancy, "very private." + +"What's your answer?" demanded the stranger. + +"That's private, too," said Mr. Yancy. "You tell him I'll be +monstrous glad to talk it over with him any time he fancies to +come out here." + +"He said something about some one I was to carry back with me," +objected the man. + +"Who said that?" asked Mr. Yancy. + +"Bladen did." + +"How's a body to know who yore talking about unless you name +him?" said Yancy severely. + +"Well, what am I to tell him?" + +"It's a free country and I got no call to dictate. You-all can +tell him whatever you like." Further than this Mr. Yancy would +not commit himself, and the man went as he came. + +The next day Yancy had occasion to visit Balaam's Cross Roads. +Ordinarily Hannibal would have gone with him, but he was engaged +in digging out a groundhog's hole with Oglethorpe Bellamy, +grandson of Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the patriarch of Scratch Hill. +Mr. Yancy forbore to interrupt this enterprise which he +considered of some educational value, since the ground-hog's hole +was an old one and he was reasonably certain that a family of +skunks had taken possession of it. When Yancy reached the Cross +Roads, Crenshaw gave him a disquieting opinion as to the probable +contents of his letter, for he himself had heard from Bladen that +he had decided to assume the care of the boy. + +"So you reckon it was that--" said Yancy, with a deep breath. + +"It's a blame outrage, Bob, fo' him to act like this!" said the +merchant with heat. + +"When do you reckon he's going to send fo' him?" asked Yancy. + +"Whenever the notion strikes him." + +"What about my having notions too?" inquired Yancy, flecked into +passion, and bringing his fist down on the counter with a crash. + +"You surely ain't going to oppose him, Bob?" + +"Does he say when he's going to send fo' my nevvy ?" + +"He says it will be soon." + +"You take care of my mule, Mr. John," said Yancy, and turned his +back on his friend. + +"I reckon Bladen will have the law on his side, Bob!" + +"The law be damned--I got what's fair on mine, I don't wish fo' +better than that," exclaimed Yancy, over his shoulder. He strode +from the store and started down the sandy road at a brisk run. +Miserable forebodings of an impending tragedy leaped up within +him, and the miles were many that lay between him and the Hill. + +"He'll just naturally bust the face off the fellow Bladen sends!" +thought Crenshaw, staring after his friend. + +That run of Bob Yancy's was destined to become a classic in the +annals of the neighborhood. Ordinarily a man walking briskly +might cover the distance between the Cross Roads and the Hill in +two hours. He accomplished it in less than an hour, and before +he reached the branch that flowed a full quarter of a mile from +his cabin he was shouting Hannibal's name as he ran. Then as he +breasted the slope he came within sight of a little group in his +own dooryard. Saving only Uncle Sammy Bellamy, the group +resolved itself into the women and children of the Hill, but +there was one small figure he missed, and the color faded from +his cheeks while his heart stood still. The patriarch hurried +toward him, leaning on his cane, while his grandson clung to the +skirts of his coat, weeping bitterly. + +"They've took your nevvy, Bob!" he cried, in a high, thin voice. + +"Who's took him?" asked Yancy hoarsely. He paused and glanced +from one to another of the little group. + +"Hit were Dave Blount. Get your gun, Bob, and go after him--kill +the miserable sneaking cuss!" cried Uncle Sammy, who believed in +settling all difficulties by bloodshed as befitted a veteran of +the first war with England, he having risen to the respectable +rank of sergeant in a company of Morgan's riflemen; while at +sixty-odd in '12, when there was recruiting at the Cross Roads, +his son had only been able to prevent his tendering his services +to his country by hiding his trousers. "Fetch his rifle, some of +you fool women!" cried Uncle Sammy. "By the Fayetteville Road, +Bob, not ten minutes ago--you can cut him off at Ox Road forks!" + +Yancy breathed a sigh of relief. The situation was not entirely +desperate, for, as Uncle Sammy said, he could reach the Ox Road +forks before Blount possibly could, by going as the crow flies +through the pine woods. + +"Hit wouldn't have happened if there'd been a man on the Hill, +but there was nothing but a passel of women about the place. I +heard the boys crying when Dave Blount lifted your nevvy into the +buggy," said Uncle Sammy; "all I could do was to cuss him across +two fields. I hope you blow his hide full of holes!" for a rifle +had been placed in Yancy's hands. + +"Thank you-all kindly," said Yancy, and turning away he struck +off through the pine woods. A brisk walk of twenty minutes +brought him to the Ox Road forks, as it was called, where he +could plainly distinguish the wheel and hoof marks left by the +buggy and team as it went to Scratch Hill, but there was only the +single track. + +This important point being settled, sense of sweet peace stole in +upon Yancy's spirit. He stood his rifle against a tree, lit his +pipe with flint and steel, and rested comfortably by the wayside. +He had not long to wait, for presently the buggy hove in sight; +whereupon he coolly knocked the ashes from his pipe, pocketed it, +and prepared for action. As the buggy came nearer he recognized +his ancient enemy in the person of the man who sat at Hannibal's +side, and stepping nimbly into the road seized the horses by +their bits. At sight of him Hannibal shrieked his name in an +ecstasy of delight. + +"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob--" he, cried. + +"Yes, it's Uncle Bob. You can light down, Nevvy. I reckon +you've rid far enough," said Yancy pleasantly. + +"Leggo them horses!" said Mr. Blount, recovering somewhat from +the effect of Yancy's sudden appearance. + +"Light down, Nevvy," said Yancy, still pleasantly. Blount turned +to the boy as if to interfere. "Don't you put the weight of yo' +finger on the boy, Blount!" warned Yancy. "Light down, +Hannibal!" + +Hannibal instantly availed himself of the invitation. At the +same moment Blount struck at Yancy with his whip and his horses +reared wildly, thinking the blow meant for them. Seeing that the +boy had reached the ground in safety, Yancy relaxed his hold on +the team, which instantly plunged forward. Then as the buggy +swept past him he made a dexterous grab at Blount and dragged him +out over the wheels into the road, where, for the second time in +his life, he proceeded to fetch Mr. Blount a smack in the jaw. +This he followed up with other smacks variously distributed about +his countenance. + +"You'll sweat for this, Bob Yancy!" cried Blount, as he vainly +sought to fend off the blows. + +"I'm sweating now--scandalous," said Mr. Yancy, taking his +unhurried satisfaction of the other. Then with a final skilful +kick he sent Mr. Blount sprawling. "Don't let me catch you +around these diggings again, Dave Blount, or I swear to God I'll +be the death of you!" + +Hannibal rode home through the pine woods in triumph on his Uncle +Bob's mighty shoulders. + +"Did you get yo' ground-hog, Nevvy?" inquired Mr. Yancy presently +when they had temporarily exhausted the excitement of Hannibal's +capture and recovery. + +"It weren't a ground-hog, Uncle Bob--it were a skunk!" + +"Think of that!" murmured Mr. Yancy. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LAW AT BALAAM'S CROSS-ROADS + + +But Mr. Yancy was only at the beginning of his trouble. Three +days later there appeared on the borders of Scratch Hill a lank +gentleman armed with a rifle, while the butts of two pistols +protruded from the depths of his capacious coat pockets. He made +his presence known by whooping from the edge of the branch, and +his whoops shaped themselves into the name of Yancy. It was +Charley Balaam, old Squire Balaam's nephew. The squire lived at +the crossroads to which his family had given its name, and +dispensed the little law that found its way into that part of the +county. The whoops finally brought Yancy to his cabin door. + +"Can I see you friendly, Bob Yancy?" Balaam demanded with the +lungs of a stentor, sheltering himself behind the thick bole of a +sweetgum, for he observed that Yancy held his rifle in the crook +of his arm and had no wish to offer his person as a target to the +deadly aim of the Scratch Hiller who was famous for his skill. + +"I reckon you can, Charley Balaam, if you are friendly," said +Yancy. + +"I'm a family man, Bob, and I ask you candid, do you feel +peevish?" + +"Not in particular," and Yancy put aside his rifle. + +"I'm a-going to trust you, Bob," said Balaam. And forsaking the +shelter of the sweetgum he shuffled up the slope. + +"How are you, Charley?" asked Yancy, as they shook hands. + +"Only just tolerable, Bob. You've been warranted--Dave Blount +swore hit on to you." He displayed a sheet of paper covered with +much writing and decorated with a large seal. Yancy viewed this +formidable document with respect, but did not offer to take it. + +"Read it," he said mildly. Balaam scratched his head. + +"I don't know that hit's my duty to do that, Bob. Hit's my duty +to serve it on to you. But I can tell you what's into hit, +leavin' out the law--which don't matter nohow." + +At this juncture Uncle Sammy's bent form emerged from the path +that led off through the woods in the direction of the Bellamy +cabin. With the patriarch was a stranger. Now the presence of a +stranger on Scratch Hill was an occurrence of such extraordinary +rarity that the warrant instantly became a matter of secondary +importance. + +"Howdy, Charley. Here, Bob Yancy, you shake hands with Bruce +Carrington," commanded Uncle Sammy. At the name both Yancy and +Balaam manifested a quickened interest. They saw a man in the +early twenties, clean-limbed and broad-shouldered, with a +handsome face and shapely head. "Yes, sir, hit's a grandson of +Tom Carrington that used to own the grist-mill down at the Forks. +Yo're some sort of wild-hog kin to him, Bob--yo' mother was a +cousin to old Tom. Her family was powerful upset at her marrying +a Yancy. They say Tom cussed himself into a 'pleptic fit when +the news was fetched him." + +"Where you located at, Mr. Carrington?" asked Yancy. But +Carrington was not given a chance to reply. Uncle Sammy saved +him the trouble. + +"Back in Kentucky. He tells me he's been follerin' the water. +What's the name of that place where Andy Jackson fit the +British?" + +"New Orleans," prompted Carrington good naturedly. + +"That's hit--he takes rafts down the river to New Orleans, then +he comes back on ships to Baltimore, or else he hoofs it no'th +overland." Uncle Sammy had acquired a general knowledge of the +stranger's habits and pursuits in an incredibly brief space of +time. "He wants to visit the Forks," he added. + +"I'm shortly goin' that way myself, Mr. Carrington, and I'll be +pleased of your company--but first I got to get through with Bob +Yancy," said Balaam, and again he produced the warrant. "If +agreeable to you, Bob, I'll ask Uncle Sammy, as a third party +friendly to both, to read this here warrant," he said. + +"Who's been a-warrantin' Bob Yancy?" cried Uncle Sammy, with +shrill interest. + +"Dave Blount has." + +"I knowed hit--I knowed he'd try to get even!" And Uncle Sammy +struck his walking-stick sharply on the packed earth of Yancy's +dooryard. "What's the charge agin you, Bob?" + +"Read hit," said Balaam. "Why, sho'--can't you read plain +writin', Uncle Sammy?" for the patriarch was showing signs of +embarrassment. + +"If you gentlemen will let me--" said Carrington pleasantly. +Instantly there came a relieved chorus from the three in one +breath. + +"Why, sure!" + +"Would my spectacles help you any, Mr. Carrington ?" asked Uncle +Sammy officiously. + +"No, I guess not." + +"They air powerful seein' glasses, and I'm aweer some folks read +a heap easier with spectacles than without 'em." After a +moment's scrutiny of the paper that Balaam had thrust in his +hand, Carrington began: + +"To the Sheriff of the County of Cumberland: Greetings." + +"He means me," explained Balaam. "He always makes 'em out to the +sheriff, but they are returned to me and I serve 'em." +Carrington resumed his reading + +"Whereas, It is alleged that a murderous assault has been +committed on one David Blount, of Fayetteville, by Robert Yancy, +of Scratch Hill, said Blount sustaining numerous bruises and +contusions, to his great injury of body and mind; and, whereas, +it is further alleged that said murderous assault was wholly +unprovoked and without cause, you will forthwith take into +custody the person of said Yancy, of Scratch Hill, charged with +having inflicted the bruises and contusions herein set forth in +the complaint of said Blount, and instantly bring him into our +presence to answer to these various and several crimes and +misdemeanors. You are empowered to seize said Yancy wherever he +may be at; whether on the hillside or in the valley, eating or +sleeping, or at rest. + + "De Lancy Balaam, Magistrate. + +"Fourth District, County of Cumberland, State of North Carolina. +Done this twenty-fourth day of May, I835. + +"P.S. Dear Bob: Dave Blount says he ain't able to chew his meat. +I thought you'd be glad to know." + +Smilingly Carrington folded the warrant and handed it to Yancy. + +"Well, what are you goin' to do about hit, Bob?" inquired Balaam. + +"Maybe I'd ought to go. I'd like to oblige the squire," said +Yancy. + +"When does this here co't set?" demanded Uncle Sammy. + +"Hit don't do much else since he's took with the lumbago," +answered Balaam somewhat obscurely. + +"How are the squire, Charley?" asked Yancy with grave concern. + +"Only just tolerable, Bob." + +"What did he tell you to do?" and Yancy knit his brows. + +"Seems like he wanted me to find out what you'd do. He +recommended I shouldn't use no violence." + +"I wouldn't recommend you did, either," assented Yancy, but +without heat. + +"I'd get shut of this here law business, Bob," advised Uncle +Sammy. + +"Suppose I come to the Cross Roads this evening?" + +"That's agreeable," said the deputy, who presently departed in +company with Carrington. + +Some hours later the male population of Scratch Hill, with a +gravity befitting the occasion, prepared itself to descend on the +Cross Roads and give its support to Mr. Yancy in his hour of +need. To this end those respectable householders armed +themselves, with the idea that it might perhaps be necessary to +correct some miscarriage of justice. They were shy enough and +timid enough, these remote dwellers in the pine woods, but, like +all wild things, when they felt they were cornered they were +prone to fight; and in this instance it was clearly iniquitous +that Bob Yancy's right to smack Dave Blount should be questioned. +That denied what was left of human liberty. But beyond this was +a matter of even greater importance: they felt that Yancy's +possession of the boy was somehow involved. + +Yancy had declared himself simply but specifically on this point. +Law or no law, he would kill whoever attempted to take the boy +from him, and Scratch Hill believing to a man that in so doing he +would be well within his rights, was prepared to join in the +fray. Even Uncle Sammy, who had not been off the Hill in years, +announced that no consideration of fatigue would keep him away +from the scene of action and possible danger, and Yancy loaned +him his mule and cart for the occasion. When the patriarch was +helped to his seat in the ancient vehicle he called loudly for +his rifle. + +"Why, pap, what do you want with a weapon?" asked his son +indulgently. +"If there air shootin' I may take a hand in it. Now you-all give +me a fair hour's start with this mule critter of Bob's, and if +nothin' busts I'll be at the squire's as soon as the best of +you." + +Uncle Sammy was given the time allowance he asked and then +Scratch Hill wended its way down the path to the branch and the +highroad. Yancy led the straggling procession, with the boy +trotting by his side, his little sunburned fist clasped in the +man's great hand. He, too, was armed. He carried the old +spo'tin' rifle he had brought from the Barony, and suspended from +his shoulder by a leather thong was the big horn flask with its +hickory stopper his Uncle Bob had fashioned for him, while a +deerskin pouch held his bullets and an extra flint or two. He +understood that beyond those smacks he had seen his Uncle Bob +fetch Mr. Blount, he himself was the real cause of this +excitement, that somebody, it was not plain to his mind just who, +was seeking to get him away from Scratch Hill, and that a +mysterious power called the Law would sooner or later be invoked +to this dread end. But he knew this much clearly, nothing would +induce him to leave his Uncle Bob! And his thin little fingers +nestled warmly against the man's hardened palm. Yancy looked +down and gave him a sunny, reassuring smile. + +"It'll be all right, Nevvy," he said gently. + +"You wouldn't let 'em take me, would you, Uncle Bob?" asked the +child in a fearful whisper. + +"Such an idea ain't entered my head. And this here warranting is +just some of Dave Blount's cussedness." + +"Uncle Bob, what'll they do to you?" + +"Well, I reckon the squire'll feel obliged to do one of two +things. He'll either fine me or else he won't." + +"What'll you do if he fines you?" + +"Why, pay the fine, Nevvy--and then lick Dave Blount again for +stirring up trouble. That's the way we most in general do. I +mean to say give him a good licking, and that'll make him stop +his foolishness." + +"Wasn't that a good licking you gave him on the Ox Road, Uncle +Bob?" asked Hannibal. + +"It was pretty fair fo' a starter, but I'm capable of doing a +better job," responded Yancy. + +They overtook Uncle Sammy as he turned in at the squire's. + +"I thought I'd come and see what kind of law a body gets at this +here co't of yours," the patriarch explained to Mr. Balaam, who, +forgetting his lumbago, had hurried forth to greet him. + +"But why did you fetch your gun, Uncle Sammy?" asked the +magistrate, laughing. + +"Hit were to be on the safe side, Squire. Where air them +Blounts?" + +"Them Blounts don't need to bother you none. There air only +Dave, and he can't more than half see out of one eye to-day." + +The squire's court held its infrequent sittings in the best room +of the Balaam homestead, a double cabin of hewn logs. Here +Scratch Hill was gratified with a view of Mr. Blount's battered +visage, and it was conceded that his condition reflected +creditably on Yancy's physical prowess and was of a character +fully to sustain that gentleman's reputation; for while he was +notoriously slow to begin a fight, he was reputed to be even more +reluctant to leave off once he had become involved in one. + +"What's all this here fuss between you and Bob Yancy?" demanded +the squire when he had administered the oath to Blount. Mr. +Blount's statement was brief and very much to the point. He had +been hired by Mr. Bladen, of Fayetteville, to go to Scratch Hill +and get the boy who had been temporarily placed in Yancy's +custody at the time of General Quintard's death. + +"Stop just there!" cried the magistrate, leveling a pudgy finger +at Blount. "This here co't is already cognizant of certain facts +bearing on that p'int. The boy was left with Bob Yancy mainly +because nobody else would take him. Them's the facts. Now go +on!" he finished sternly. + +"I only know what Bladen told me," said Blount sullenly. + +"Well, I reckon Mr. Bladen ought to feel obliged to tell the +truth," said the squire. + +"He done give me the order from the judge of the co't--I was to +show it to Bob Yancy--" + +"Got that order?" demanded the squire sharply. With a smile, +damaged, but clearly a smile, Blount produced the order. Hmm +--app'inted guardeen of the boy--" the squire was presently heard +to murmur. The crowded room was very still now, and more than +one pair of eyes were turned pityingly in Yancy's direction. +When the long arm of the law reached out from Fayetteville, where +there was a real judge and a real sheriff, it clothed itself with +very special terrors. The boy looked up into Yancy's face. That +tense silence had struck a chill through his heart. + +"It's all right," whispered Yancy reassuringly, smiling down upon +him. And Hannibal, comforted, smiled back, and nestled his head +against his Uncle Bob's side. + +"Well, Mr. Blount, what did you do with this here order?" asked +the squire. + +"I went with it to Scratch Hill," said Blount. + +"And showed it to Bob Yancy ?" asked the squire. + +"No, he wa'n't there. But the boy was, and I took him in my +buggy and drove off. I'd got as far as the Ox Road forks when I +met Yancy--" + +"What happened then?--but a body don't need to ask! Looks like +the law was all you had on your side!" and the squire glanced +waggishly about the room. + +"I showed Yancy the order--" + +"You lie, Dave Blount; you didn't!" said Yancy. "But I can't say +as it would have made no difference, Squire. He'd have taken his +licking just the same and I'd have had my nevvy out of that +buggy!" + +"Didn't he say nothing about this here order from the colt, Bob?" + +"There wa'n't much conversation, Squire. I invited my nevvy to +light down, and then I snaked Dave Blount out over the wheel." + +"Who struck the first blow?" + +"He did. He struck at me with his buggy whip." + +"What you got to say to this, Mr. Blount?" asked the squire. + +"I say I showed him the order like I said," answered Blount +doggedly. Squire Balaam removed his spectacles and leaned back +in his chair. + +"It's the opinion of this here co't that the whole question of +assault rests on whether Bob Yancy saw the order. Bob Yancy +swears he didn't see it, while Dave Blount swears he showed it to +him. If Bob Yancy didn't know of the existence of the order he +was clearly actin' on the idea that Blount was stealin' his +nevvy, and he done what any one would have done under the +circumstances. If, on the other hand, he knowed of this order +from the co't, he was not only guilty of assault, but he was +guilty of resistin' an officer of the co't." The squire paused +impressively. His audience drew a long breath. The impression +prevailed that the case was going against Yancy, and more than +one face was turned scowlingly on the fat little justice. + +"Can a body drap a word here?" It was Uncle Sammy's thin voice +that cut into the silence. + +"Certainly, Uncle Sammy. This here co't will always admire to +listen to you." + +"Well, I'd like to say that I consider that Fayetteville co't +mighty officious with its orders. This part of the county won't +take nothin' off Fayetteville! We don't interfere with +Fayetteville, and blamed if we'll let Fayetteville interfere with +us!" There was a murmur of approval. Scratch Hill remembered +the rifles in its hands and took comfort. + +"The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy," +explained the squire indulgently. + +"I'm aweer of that," snapped the patriarch. "I've seen hit's +steeple." + +"Air you finished, Uncle Sammy?" asked the squire deferentially. + +"I 'low I am. But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin +Bob Yancy I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' +foolishness." + +"Mr. Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish +this case," said the squire with dignity. "As I've already +p'inted out, the question of veracity presents itself strongly to +the mind of this here colt. Mr. Yancy has sworn to one thing, +Mr. Blount to another. +Now the Yancys air an old family in these parts; Mr. Blount's +folks air strangers, but we don't know nothing agin them--" + +"And we don't know nothing in their favor," Uncle Sammy +interjected. + +"Dave's grandfather came here from Virginia about fifty years +back and settled near Scratch Hill--" + +"We never knowed why he left Virginia or why he came here," said +Uncle Sammy, and knowing what local feeling was, was sure he had +shot a telling bolt. + +"Then, about twenty-five years ago Dave's father pulled up and +went to Fayetteville. Nobody ever knowed why--and I don't +remember that he ever offered any explanation--" continued the +squire. + +"He didn't--he just left," said Uncle Sammy. + +"Consequently," pursued the squire, somewhat vindictively, "we +ain't had any time in which to form an opinion of the Blounts; +but for myself, I'm suspicious of folks that keep movin' about +and who don't seem able to get located permanent nowheres, who +air here to-day and away tomorrow. But you can't say that of the +Yancys. They air an old family in the country, and naturally +this co't feels obliged to accept a Yancy's word before the word +of a stranger. And in view of the fact that the defendant did +not seek litigation, but was perfectly satisfied to let matters +rest where they was, it is right and just that all costs should +fall on the plaintiff." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ENCOUNTER + + +Betty Malroy had ridden into the squire's yard during the +progress of the trial and when Yancy and Hannibal came from the +house she beckoned the Scratch Hiller to her. She was aware that +Mr. Yancy, moving along the line of least industrial resistance, +might be counted of little worth in any broad scheme of life. +Nat Ferris had strongly insisted on this point, as had Judith, +who shared her husband's convictions; consequently, the rumors of +his present difficulty had merely excited them to adverse +criticism. They had been sure the best thing that could happen +the boy would be his removal from Yancy's guardianship, but this +was not at all her conclusion. She considered Mr. Bladen +heartless and his course without justification, and she regarded +Yancy's affection for the boy as in itself constituting a benefit +that quite outweighed his unprogressive example. + +"You are not going to lose your nephew, are you, Mr. Yancy?" she +asked eagerly, when Yancy stood at her side. + +"No, ma'am." But his sense of elation was plainly tempered by +the knowledge that for him the future held more than one knotty +problem. + +"I am very glad! I know Hannibal will be much happier with you +than with any one else," and she smiled brightly at the boy, +whose small sunburned face was upturned to hers. + +"I think that-a-ways myself, Miss Betty, but this trial was only +for my smacking Dave Blount, who was trying to steal my nevvy," +explained Yancy. + +"I hope you smacked him well and hard!" said the girl, whose mood +was warlike. + +"I ain't got no cause to complain, thank you," returned Mr. Yancy +pleasantly. + +"I rode out to the Hill to say good-by to Hannibal and to you, +but they said you were here and that the trial was today." + +Captain Murrell, with Crenshaw and the squire, came from the +house, and Murrell's swarthy face lit up at sight of the girl. +Yancy, sensible of the gulf that yawned between himself and what +was known as "the quality," would have yielded his place, but +Betty detained him. + +"Are you going away, ma'am?" he asked with concern. + +"Yes--to my home in west Tennessee," and a cloud crossed her +smooth brow. + +"That surely is a right big distance for you to travel, ma'am," +said Yancy, his mind opening to this fresh impression. "I reckon +it's rising a hundred miles or mo'," he concluded, at a venture. + +"It's almost a thousand." + +"Think of that! And you are that ca'm!" cried Yancy admiringly, +as a picture of simply stupendous effort offered itself to his +mind's eye. He added: "I am mighty sorry you are going. We-all +here shall miss you--specially Hannibal. He just regularly pines +for Sunday as it is." + +"I hope he will miss me a little--I'm afraid I want him to!" She +glanced down at the boy as she spoke, and into her eyes, very +clear and very blue and shaded by long dark lashes, stole a look +of wistful tenderness. She noted how his little hand was clasped +in Yancy's, she realized the perfect trust of his whole attitude +toward this big bearded man, and she was conscious of a sudden +feeling of profound respect for the Scratch Hiller. + +"But ain't you ever coming back, Miss Betty?" asked Hannibal +rather fearfully, smitten with the awesome sense of impermanence +which dogs our footsteps. + +"Oh, I hope so, dear--I wish to think so. But you see my home is +not here." She turned to Yancy, "So it is settled that he is to +remain with you?" + +"Not exactly, Miss Betty. You see, there's an order from the +Fayetteville co't fo' me to give him up to this man Bladen." + +"But Uncle Bob says--" began Hannibal, who considered his Uncle +Bob's remarks on this point worth quoting. + +"Never mind what yo' Uncle Bob said," interrupted Yancy hastily. + +"Oh, Mr. Yancy, you are not going to surrender him--no matter +what the court says!" cried Betty. The expression on Yancy's +face was so grim and determined on the instant with the latent +fire that was in him flashing from his eyes that she added +quickly, "You know the law is for you as well as for Mr. Bladen!" + +"I reckon I won't bother the law none," responded Yancy briefly. +"Me and my nevvy will go back to Scratch Hill and there won't be +no trouble so long as they leave us be. But them Fayetteville +folks want to keep away--" The fierce light slowly died out of +his eyes. "It'll be all right, ma'am, and it's mighty good and +kind of you fo' to feel the way you do. I'm obliged to you." + +But Betty was by no means sure of the outcome Yancy seemed to +predict with such confidence. Unless Bladen abandoned his +purpose, which he was not likely to do, a tragedy was clearly +pending for Scratch Hill. She saw the boy left friendless, she +saw Yancy the victim of his own primitive conception of justice. +Therefore she said: + +"I wonder you don't leave the Hill, Mr. Yancy. You could so +easily go where Mr. Bladen would never find you. Haven't you +thought of this?" + +"That are a p'int," agreed Yancy slowly. "Might I ask what parts +you'd specially recommend?" lifting his grave eyes to hers. + +"It would really be the sensible thing to do!" said Betty. "I am +sure you would like West Tennessee--they say you are a great +hunter." Yancy smiled almost guiltily. + +"I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some," +he admitted. + +"Miss Betty, Uncle Bob's the best shot we got! You had ought to +see him shoot!" said Hannibal. + +"Mr. Yancy, if you should cross the mountains, remember I live +near Memphis. Belle Plain is the name of the plantation--it's +not hard to find; just don't forget--Belle Plain." + +"I won't forget, and mebby you will see us there one of these +days. Sho', I've seen mighty little of the world--about as far +as a dog can trot it a couple of hours!" + +"Just think what it will mean to Hannibal if you become involved +further with Mr. Bladen." Betty spoke earnestly, bending toward +him, and Yancy understood the meaning that lay back of her words. + +"I've thought of that, too," the Scratch Hiller answered +seriously. Betty glanced toward the squire and Mr. Crenshaw. +They were standing near the bars that gave entrance to the lane. +Murrell had left them and was walking briskly down the road +toward Crenshaw's store where his horse was tied. She bent down +and gave Yancy her slim white hand. + +"Good-by, Mr. Yancy--lift Hannibal so that I can kiss him!" +Yancy swung the child aloft. "I think you are such a nice little +boy, Hannibal--you mustn't forget me!" And touching her horse +lightly with the whip she rode away at a gallop. + +"She sho'ly is a lady!" said Yancy, staring after her. "And we +mustn't forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy." + +Crenshaw and the squire approached. + +"Bob," said the merchant, "Bladen's going to have the boy--but he +made a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool +like Dave Blount. I reckon he knows that now." + +"I reckon his next move will be to send a posse of gun-toters up +from Fayetteville," said the squire. + +"That's just what he'll do," agreed Crenshaw, and looked +disturbed. + +"They certainly air an unpeaceable lot--them Fayetteville folks! +It's always seemed to me they had a positive spite agin this end +of the county," said the squire, and he pocketed his spectacles +and refreshed himself with a chew of tobacco. "Bladen ain't +actin' right, Bob. It's a year and upwards since the old general +'died. He let you go on thinking the boy was to stay with you +and now he takes a notion to have him!" + +"No, sir, it ain't right nor reasonable. And what's more, he +shan't have him!" said Yancy, and his tone was final. + +"I don't know what kind of a mess you're getting yourself into, +Bob, I declare I don't!" cried Crenshaw, who felt that he was +largely responsible for the whole situation. + +"Looks like your neighbors would stand by you," suggested the +squire. + +"I don't want them to stand by me. It'll only get them into +trouble, and I ain't going to do that," rejoined Yancy, and +lapsed into momentary silence. Then he resumed meditatively, +"There was old Baldy Ebersole who shot the sheriff when they +tried to arrest him for getting drunk down in Fayetteville and +licking the tavern-keeper--" + +"Sho', there wa'n't no harm in Baldy!" said the squire, with +heat. "When that sheriff come along here looking for him, I told +him p'inted that Baldy said he wouldn't be arrested. A more +truthful man I never knowed, and if the damn fool had taken my +word he'd be living yet!" + +"But you-all know what trouble killing that sheriff made fo' +Baldy!" said Yancy. "He told me often he regretted it mo' than +anything he'd ever done. He said it was most aggravatin' having +to always lug a gun wherever he went. And what with being +suspicious of strangers when he wa'n't suspicious by nature, he +reckoned in time it would just naturally wear him out." + +"He stood it until he was risin' eighty," said Crenshaw. + +"His, father lived to be ninety, John, and as spry an old +gentleman as a body'd wish to see. I don't uphold no man for +committing murder, but I do consider the sheriff should have +waited on Baldy to get mo' reasonable, like he'd done in time if +they'd just let him alone--but no, sir, he reckoned the law +wa'n't no respecter of persons. He was a fine-appearin' man, +that sheriff, and just elected to office. I remember we had to +leave off the tail-gate to my cart to accommodate him. Yes, sir, +they pretty near pestered Baldy into his grave--and seein' that +pore old fellow pottering around year after year always toting a +gun was the patheticest sight I most ever seen, and I made up my +mind then if it ever seemed necessary for me to kill a man, I'd +leave the county or maybe the state," concluded the squire. + +"Don't you reckon it would be some better to leave the state afo' +you. done the killing?" suggested Yancy. + +"Well, a man might. I don't know but what he'd be justified in +getting shut of his troubles like that." + +When Betty Malroy rode away from Squire Balaam's Murrell galloped +after her. Presently she heard the beat of his horse's hoofs as +he came pounding along the sandy road and glanced back over her +shoulder. With an exclamation of displeasure she reined in her +horse. She had not wished to ride to the Barony with him, yet +she had no desire to treat him with discourtesy, especially as +the Ferrises were disposed to like him. Murrell quickly gained a +place at her side. + +"I suppose Ferris is at the Barony?" he said, drawing his horse +down to a walk. + +"I believe he is," said Betty with a curt little air. + +"May I ride with you?" he gave her a swift glance. She nodded +indifferently and would have urged her horse into a gallop again, +but he made a gesture of protest. "Don't--or I shall think you +are still running away from me," he said with a short laugh. + +"Were you at the trial?" she asked. "I am glad they didn't get +Hannibal away from Yancy." + +"Oh, Yancy will have his hands full with that later--so will +Bladen," he added significantly. He studied her out of those +deeply sunken eyes of his in which no shadow of youth lingered, +for men such as he reached their prime early, and it was a +swiftly passing splendor. "Ferris tells me you are going to West +Tennessee?" he said at length. + +"Yes." + +"I know your half-brother, Tom Ware--I know him very well." +There was another brief silence. + +"So you know Tom?" she presently observed, and frowned slightly. +Tom was her guardian, and her memories of him were not +satisfactory. A burly, unshaven man with a queer streak of +meanness through his character. She had not seen him since she +had been sent north to Philadelphia, and their intercourse had +been limited to infrequent letters. His always smelled of +strong, stale tobacco, and the well-remembered whine in the man's +voice ran through his written sentences. + +"You've spent much of your time up North?" suggested Murrell. + +"Four years. I've been at school, you know. That's where I met +Judith." + +"I hope you'll like West Tennessee. It's still a bit raw +compared with what you've been accustomed to in the North. You +haven't been back in all those four years?" Betty shook her head. +"Nor seen Tom--nor any one from out yonder?" For some reason a +little tinge of color had crept into Betty's cheeks. "Will you +let me renew our acquaintance at Belle Plain? I shall be in West +Tennessee before the summer is over; probably I shall leave here +within a week," he said, bending toward her. His glance dwelt on +her face and the pliant lines of her figure, and his sense swam. +Since their first meeting the girl's beauty had haunted and +allured him; with his passionate sense of life he was disposed to +these violent fancies, and he had a masterful way with women just +as he had a masterful way with men. Now, however, he was aware +that he was viewed with entire indifference. His vanity, which +was his whole inner self, was hurt, and from the black depths of +his nature his towering egotism flashed out lawless and perverted +impulses. "I must tell you that I am not of your sort, Miss +Malroy--" he continued hurriedly. "My people were plain folk out +of the mountains. For what I am I have no one to thank but +myself. You must be aware of the prejudices of the planter +class, for it is your class. Perhaps I haven't been quite frank +at the Barony--I felt it was asking too much when you were there. +That was a door I didn't want closed to me!" + +"I imagine you will be welcome at Belle Plain. You are Tom's +friend." Murrell bit his lip, and then laughed as his mind +conjured up a picture of the cherished Tom. Suddenly he reached +out and rested his hand on hers. He lived in the shadow of +chance not always kind, his pleasures were intoxicating drafts +snatched in the midst of dangers, and here was youth, sweet and +perfect, that only needed awakening. + +"Betty--if I might think--" he began, but his tongue stumbled. +His love-making was usually of a savage sort, but some quality in +the girl held him in check. The words he had spoken many times +before forsook him. Betty drew away from him, an angry color on +her cheeks and an angry light in her eyes. "Forgive me, Betty!" +muttered Murrell, but his heart beat against his ribs, and +passion sent its surges through him. "Don't you know what I'm +trying to tell you?" he whispered. Betty gathered up her reins. +"Not yet--" he cried, and again he rested a heavy hand on hers. +"Don't you know what's kept me here? It was to be near you--only +that--I've been waiting for this chance to speak. It was long in +coming, but it's here now--and it's mine!" he exulted. His eyes +burned with a luminous fire, he urged his horse nearer and they +came to a halt. "Look here--I'll follow you North--I swear I +love you--say I may!" + +"Let me go--let me go!" cried Betty indignantly. + +"No--not yet!" he urged his horse still nearer and gathered her +close. "You've got to hear me. I've loved you since the first +moment I rested my eyes on you--and, by God, you shall love me in +return!" He felt her struggle to free herself from his grasp +with a sense of savage triumph. It was the brute force within +him that conquered with women just as it conquered with men. + +Bruce Carrington, on his way back to Fayetteville from the Forks, +came about a turn in the road. Betty saw a tall, handsome fellow +in the first flush of manhood; Carrington, an angry girl, very +beautiful and very indignant, struggling in a man's grasp. + +At sight of the new-comer, Murrell, with an oath, released Betty, +who, striking her horse with the whip galloped down the road +toward the Barony. As she fled past Carrington she bent low in +her saddle. + +"Don't let him follow me!" she gasped, and Carrington, striding +forward, caught Murrell's horse by the bit. + +"Not so fast, you!" he said coolly. The two men glared at each +other for a brief instant. + +"Take your hand off my horse!" exclaimed Murrell hoarsely, his +mouth hot and dry with a sense of defeat. + +"Can't you see she'd rather be alone?" said Carrington. + +"Let go!" roared Murrell, and a murderous light shot from his +eyes. + +"I don't know but I should pull you out of that saddle and twist +your neck!" said Carrington hotly. Murrell's face underwent a +swift change. + +"You're a bold fellow to force your way into a lover's quarrel," +he said quietly. Carrington's arm dropped at his side. Perhaps, +after all, it was that. Murrell thrust his hand into his pocket. +"I always give something to the boy who holds my horse," he said, +and tossed a coin in Carrington's direction. "There--take that +for your pains!" he added. He pulled his horse about and rode +back toward the cross-roads at an easy canter. + +Carrington, with an angry flush on his sunburnt cheeks, stood +staring down at the coin that glinted in the dusty road, but he +was seeing the face of the girl, indignant, beautiful--then he +glanced after Murrell. + +"I reckon I ought to have twisted his neck," he said with a deep +breath. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BETTY SETS OUT FOR TENNESSEE + + +Bruce Carrington came of a westward-looking race. From the low +coast where they had first settled, those of his name had +followed the rivers to their headwaters. The headwaters had sent +them forth toward the foot-hills, where they made their, +clearings and built their cabins in the shadow of the blue wall +that for a time marked the furthest goal of their desires. But +only for a time. Crossing the mountains they found the +headwaters once more, and following the streams out of the hills +saw the roaring torrents become great placid rivers. + +Carrington's father had put the mountains at his back thirty +years before. The Watauga settlements had furnished him a wife, +and some four years later Bruce was born on the banks of the +Ohio. The senior Carrington had appeared on horseback as a +wooer, but had walked on foot as a married man, each shift of +residence he made having represented a descent to a lower social +level. On the death of his wife he had embarked in the river +trade with all that enthusiasm and hope he had brought to +half-a-dozen other occupations, for he was a gentleman of +prodigious energy. + +Bruce's first memories had to do with long nights when he perched +beside his father on the cabin roof of their keel-boat and +watched the stars, or the blurred line of the shore where it lay +against the sky, or the lights on other barges and rafts drifting +as they were drifting, with their wheat and corn and whisky to +that common market at the river's mouth. + +Sometimes they dragged their boat back up-stream, painfully, +laboriously; three or four months of unremitting toil sufficed +for this, when the crew sweated at the towing ropes from dawn +until dark, that the rich planters in Kentucky and Tennessee +might have tea and wine for their tables, and silks and laces for +their womenfolk. More often they abandoned their boat and +tramped north, armed and watchful, since cutthroats and robbers +haunted the roads, and river-men, if they had not drunk away +their last dollar in New Orleans, were worth spoiling. Or, if it +offered, they took passage on some fast sailing clipper bound for +Baltimore or Philadelphia, and crossed the mountains to the Ohio +and were within a week or two of home. + +Bruce Carrington had seen the day of barge and raft reach its +zenith, had heard the first steam packet's shrieking whistle +which sounded the death-knell of the ancient order, though the +shifting of the trade was a slow matter and the glory of the old +did not pass over to the new at once, but lingered still in +mighty fleets of rafts and keel-boats and in the Homeric +carousals of some ten thousand of the half-horse, half-alligator +breed that nightly gathered in New Orleans. Broad-horns and +mud-sills they were called in derision. A strange race of +aquatic pioneers, jeans and leather clad, the rifle and the +setting-pole equally theirs, they came out of every stream down +which a scow could be thrust at flood-time; from tiny settlements +far back among the hills; from those bustling sinks of iniquity, +the river towns. But now, surely, yet almost imperceptibly, +their commerce was slipping from them. At all the landings they +were being elbowed by the newcomers--men who wore brass buttons +and gold braid, and shiny leather shoes instead of moccasins; men +with white hands and gold rings on their fingers and diamonds in +their shirts--men whose hair and clothing kept the rancid smell +of oil and smoke and machinery. + +After the reading of the warrant that morning, Charley Balaam had +shown Carrington the road to the Forks, assuring him when they +separated that with a little care and decent use of his eyes it +would be possible to fetch up there and not pass plumb through +the settlement without knowing where he was. But Carrington had +found the Forks without difficulty. He had seen the old mill his +grandfather had built almost a hundred years before, and in the +churchyard he had found the graves and read the inscriptions that +recorded the virtues of certain dead and gone Carringtons. It +had all seemed a very respectable link with the past. + +He was on his way to Fayetteville, where he intended to spend the +night, and perhaps a day or two in looking around, when the +meeting with Betty and Murrell occurred. As Murrell disappeared +in the direction of Balaam's, Carrington took a spiteful kick at +the unoffending coin, and strode off down the Fayetteville pike. +But the girl's face remained with him. It was a face he would +like to see again. He wondered who she was, and if she lived in +the big house on the other road, the house beyond the red gate +which Charley Balaam had told him was called the Barony. + +He was still thinking of the girl when he ate his supper that +night at Cleggett's Tavern. Later, in the bar, he engaged his +host in idle gossip. Mr. Cleggett knew all about the Barony and +its owner, Nat Ferris. Ferris was a youngish man, just married. +Carrington experienced a quick sinking of the heart. A fleeting +sense of humor succeeded--had he interfered between man and wife? +But surely if this had been the case the girl would not have +spoken as she had. + +He wound Mr. Cleggett up with sundry pegs of strong New England +rum. He had met a gentleman and lady on the road that day; he +wondered, as he toyed with his glass, if it could have been the +Ferrises? Mounted? Yes, mounted. Then it was Ferris and his +wife--or it might have been Captain Murrell and Miss Malroy the +captain was a strapping, black-haired chap who rode a big bay +horse. Miss Malroy did not live in that part of the country; she +was a friend of Mrs. Ferris', belonged in Kentucky or Tennessee, +or somewhere out yonder--at any rate she was bringing her visit +to an end, for Ferris had instructed him to reserve a place for +her in the north-bound stage on the morrow. + +Carrington suddenly remembered that he had some thought of +starting north in the morning himself, but he was still +undecided. How about it if he deferred his decision until the +stage was leaving? Mr. Cleggett consulted his bookings and was +of the opinion that his chances would not be good; and Carrington +hastily paid down his money. Later in the privacy of his own +room he remarked meditatively, viewing his reflection in the +mirror that hung above the chimneypiece, "I reckon you're plain +crazy!" and seemed to free himself from all further +responsibility for his own acts whatever they might be. + +The stage left at six, and as Carrington climbed to his seat the +next morning Mr. Cleggett was advising the driver to look sharp +when he came to the Barony road, as he was to pick up a party +there. It was Carrington who looked sharp, and almost at the +spot where he had seen Betty Malroy the day before he saw her +again, with Ferris and Judith and a pile of luggage bestowed by +the wayside. Betty did not observe him as the coach stopped, for +she was intent on her farewells with her friends. There were +hasty words of advice from Ferris, prolonged good-byes to Judith, +tears--kisses--while a place was being made for her many boxes +and trunks. Carrington viewed the luggage with awe, and listened +without shame. He gathered that she was going north to +Washington; that her final destination was some point either on +the Ohio or Mississippi, and that her name was Betty. Then the +door slammed and the stage was in motion again. + +Carrington felt sensibly enriched by the meager facts now in his +possession. He was especially interested in her name. Be liked +the sound of it. It suited her. He even tried it under his +breath softly. Betty--Betty Malroy--next he fell to wondering if +those few hurried words she had addressed to him could possibly +be construed as forming a basis for a further acquaintance. Or +wasn't it far more likely she would prefer to forget the episode +of the previous day, which had clearly been anything but +agreeable? + +All through the morning they swung forward in the heat and dust +and glare, with now and then a brief pause when they changed +horses, and at midday rattled into the shaded main street of a +sleepy village and drew up before the tavern where dinner was +waiting them--a fact that was announced by a bare-legged colored +boy armed with a club, who beat upon a suspended wagon tire. + +Betty saw Carrington when she took her seat, and gave a scarcely +perceptible start of surprise. Then her face was flooded with a +rich color. This was the man who saw her with Captain Murrell +yesterday I What must he think of her! There was a brief moment +of irresolution and then she bowed coldly. + +"You just barely managed it. I reckon nobody could misunderstand +that. By no means cordial--but of course not!" Carrington +reflected. His own handsome face had been expressionless when he +returned her bow, and Betty could not have guessed how consoled +and comforted he was by it. With great fortitude and self-denial +he forbore to look in her direction again, but he lingered at the +table until the last moment that he might watch her when she +returned to the coach. Mr. Carrington entertained ideals where +women were concerned, and even though he had been the one to +profit by it he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest +particular from those stringent rules he laid down for her sex. +Consequently that distant air she bore toward him filled him with +satisfaction. It was quite enough for the present--for the +present--that three times each day his perseverance and +determination were rewarded by that curt little acknowledgment of +her indebtedness to him. + +It was four days to Richmond. Four days of hot, dusty travel, +four nights of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty +suffered sleepless nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early +rising. She occasionally found herself wondering who Carrington +was. She approved of the manner in which he conducted himself. +She liked a man who could be unobtrusive. Traveling like that +day after day it would have been so easy for him to be officious. +But he never addressed her and refused to see any opportunity to +assist her in entering or quitting the stage, leaving that to +some one else. Presently she was sorry she had bowed to him that +first day--so self-contained and unpresuming a person as he would +evidently have been quite satisfied to overlook the omission. +Then she began to be haunted by doubts. Perhaps, after all, he +had not recognized her as the girl he had met in the road! This +gave her a very queer feeling indeed--for what must he think of +her? And the next time she bowed to this perfect stranger she +threw a chilling austerity into the salutation quite at variance +with her appearance, for the windy drive had tangled her hair and +blown it in curling wisps about her face. This served to trouble +Carrington excessively, and furnished him with food for +reflection through all his waking moments for the succeeding +eight and forty hours. + +The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at +breakfast. He received another curt little nod, cool and +distant, as he took his seat, but he felt strongly that a mere +bowing acquaintance would no longer suffice; so he passed her a +number of things she didn't want, and presently ventured the +opinion that she must find traveling as they were, day after day, +very fatiguing. Surprised at the sound of his voice, before she +knew what she was doing, Betty said, "Not at all," closed her red +lips, and was immediatelv dumb. + +Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further +opinion on any topic. Betty was left wondering whether she had +been rude, and when they met again asked if the stage would reach +Washington at the advertised hour. She had been consulting the +copy of Badger's and Porter's Register which Ferris had thrust +into her satchel the morning she left the Barony, and which, +among a multiplicity of detail as to hotels and taverns, gave the +runnings of all the regular stage lines, packets, canal-boats and +steamers, by which one could travel over the length and breadth +of the land. +"You stop in Washington?" said Carrington. + +Betty shook her head. "No, I am going on to Wheeling." + +"You're fortunate in being so nearly home," he observed. "I am +going on to Memphis." He felt it was time she knew this, or else +she might think his movements were dictated by her own. + +Betty exclaimed: "Why, I am going to Memphis, too!" + +"Are you? By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the +National Road to Wheeling?" + +Betty nodded. "It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads, +doesn't it? Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as +Memphis?" she said. + +"They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're +built on something besides paper," answered Carrington. "And I +happen to be a flatboat-man, Miss Malroy." + +Betty gave him a glance of surprise. + +"Why, how did you learn my name?" she asked. + +"Oh, I heard your friends speak it," he answered glibly. But +Betty's smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully. She wondered if +he had--and if he hadn't. It was very odd certainly that he +should know it. + +"So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?" she +presently said. + +"No, I didn't say that. I was thinking of the flatboats that +have already been hurt by the steamers," he replied. Now to the +western mind the river-men typified all that was reckless and +wild. It was their carousals that gave an evil repute to such +towns as Natchez. But this particular river-man looked harmless. +"Carrington is my name, Miss Malroy," he added. + +No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did +not attempt to resume the conversation. A day later they rumbled +into Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach, +Carrington stepped to her side. + +"I suppose you'll stop here, Miss Malroy?" he said, indicating +the tavern before which the stage had come to a stand. +"Yes," said Betty briefly. + +"If I can be of any service to you--" he began, with just a touch +of awkwardness in his manner. + +"No, I thank you, Mr. Carrington," said Betty quickly. + +"Good night . . . good-by," he turned away, and Betty saw his +tall form disappear in the twilight. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FIGHT AT SLOSSON'S TAVERN + + +Murrell had ridden out of the hills some hours back. He now +faced the flashing splendors of a June sunset, but along the +eastern horizon the mountains rose against a somber sky. Night +was creeping into their fastnesses. Already there was twilight +in those cool valleys lying within the shadow of mighty hills. A +month and more had elapsed since Bob Yancy's trial. Just two +days later man and boy disappeared from Scratch Hill. This had +served to rouse Murrell to the need of immediate action, but he +found, where Yancy was concerned, Scratch Hill could keep a +secret, while Crenshaw's mouth was closed on any word that might +throw light on the plans of his friend. + +"It's plain to my mind, Captain, that Bladen will never get the +boy. I reckon Bob's gone into hiding with him," said the +merchant, with spacious candor. + +The fugitives had not gone into hiding, however; they had +traversed the state from east to west, and Murrell was soon on +their trail and pressing forward in pursuit. Reaching the +mountains, he heard of them first as ten days ahead of him and +bound for west Tennessee, the ten days dwindled to a week, the +week became five days, the five days three; and now as he emerged +from the last range of hills he caught sight of them. They were +half a mile distant perhaps, but he was certain that the man and +boy he saw pass about a turn in the road were the man and boy he +had been following for a month. + +He was not mistaken. The man was Bob Yancy and the boy was +Hannibal. Yancy had acted with extraordinary decision. He had +sold his few acres at Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw--it +was to the latter's credit that the transaction was one in which +he could feel no real pride as a man of business--and just a day +later Yancy and the boy had quitted Scratch Hill in the gray +dawn, and turned their faces westward. Tennessee had become +their objective point, since here was a region to which they +could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to +them. As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had +caught his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue +wall of the mountains where it lay along the horizon. + +"Well, Nevvy," he said, "we've put a heap of distance between us +and old Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the +other side of the Hill as there is this side, the world's a +monstrous big place fo' to ramble about in." He carried his +rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a much smaller pack and his +old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle Bob relieved him +at brief intervals. + +For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a +leisurely fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world, +and it was well to take a good look at it while they had a +chance. He was no longer fearful of pursuit and his temperament +asserted itself--the minimum of activity sufficed. Usually they +camped just where the night overtook them; now and then they +varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there was money +in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not +conceive that it had any other possible use. + +Suddenly out of the silence carne the regular beat of hoofs. +These grew nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite +close, Yancy faced about. He instantly recognized Murrell and +dropped his rifle into the crook of his arm. The act was +instinctive, since there was no reason to believe that the +captain had the least interest in the boy. Smilingly Murrell +reined in his horse. + +"Why--Bob Yancy!" he cried, in apparent astonishment. + +"Yes, sir--Bob Yancy. Does it happen you are looking fo' him, +Captain?" inquired Yancy. + +"No--no, Bob. I'm on my way West. Shake hands." His manner was +frank and winning, and Yancy met it with an equal frankness. + +"Well, sir, me and my nevvy are glad to meet some one we've +knowed afore. The world are a lonesome place once you get shut +of yo'r own dooryard," he said. Murrell slipped from his saddle +and fell into step at Yancy's side as they moved forward. + +"They were mightily stirred up at the Cross Roads when I left, +wondering what had come of you," he observed. + +"When did you quit there?" asked Yancy. + +"About a fortnight ago," said Murrell. "Every one approves of +your action in this matter, Yancy," he went on. + +"That's kind of them," responded Yancy, a little dryly. There +was no reason for it, but he was becoming distrustful of Murrell, +and uneasy. + +"Bladen's hurt himself by the stand he's taken it this matter," +Murrell added. + +They went forward in silence, Yancy brooding and suspicious. For +the last mile or so their way had led through an unbroken forest, +but a sudden turn in the road brought them to the edge of an +extensive clearing. Close to the road were several buildings, +but not a tree had been spared to shelter them and they stood +forth starkly, the completing touch to a civilization that was +still in its youth, unkempt, rather savage, and ruthlessly +utilitarian. A sign, the work of inexpert hands, announced the +somewhat dingy structure of hewn logs that stood nearest the +roadside a tavern. There was a horse rack in front of it and a +trampled space. It was flanked by its several sheds and barns on +one hand and a woodpile on the other. Beyond the woodpile a rail +fence inclosed a corn-field, and beyond the barns and sheds a +similar fence defined the bounds of a stumpy pasture-lot. + +From the door of the tavern the figure of a man emerged. Pausing +by the horse rack he surveyed the two men and boy, if not with +indifference, at least with apathy. Just above his head swung +the sign with its legend, Slosson--Entertainment;" but if he were +Slosson, one could take the last half of the sign either as a +poetic rhapsody on the part of the painter, or the yielding to +some meaningless convention, for in his person, Mr. Slosson +suggested none of those qualities of brain or heart that trenched +upon the lighter amenities of life. He was black-haired and +bull-necked, and there was about him a certain shagginess which a +recent toilet performed at the horse trough had not served to +mitigate. + +"Howdy?" he drawled. + +"Howdy?" responded Mr. Yancy. + +"Shall you stop here?" asked Murrell, sinking his voice. Yancy +nodded. "Can you put us up?" inquired Murrell, turning to the +tavern-keeper. + +"I reckon that's what I'm here for," said Slosson. Murrell +glanced about the empty yard. "Slack," observed Slosson +languidly. "Yes, sir, slack's the only name for it." It was +understood he referred to the state of trade. He looked from one +to the other of the two men. As his eyes rested on Murrell, that +gentleman raised the first three fingers of his right hand. The +gesture was ever so little, yet it seemed to have a tonic effect +on Mr. Slosson. What might have developed into a smile had he +not immediately suppressed it, twisted his bearded lips as he +made an answering movement. "Eph, come here, you!" Slosson +raised his voice. This call brought a half-grown black boy from +about a corner of the tavern, to whom Murrell relinquished his +horse. + +"Let's liquor," said the captain over his shoulder, moving off in +the direction of the bar. + +"Come on, Nevvy!" said Yancy following, and they all entered the +tavern. + +"Well, here's to the best of good luck!" said Murrell, as he +raised his glass to his lips. + +"Same here," responded Yancy. Murrell pulled out a roll of +bills, one of which he tossed on the bar. Then after a moment's +hesitation he detached a second bill from the roll and turned to +Hannibal. + +"Here, youngster--a present for you;" he said good-naturedly. +Hannibal, embarrassed by the unexpected gift, edged to his Uncle +Bob's side. + +"Ain't you-all got nothing to say to the gentleman?" asked Yancy. + +"Thank you, sir," said the boy. + +"That sounds a heap better. Let's see--why, if it ain't ten +dollars--think of that!" said Yancy, in surprise. + +"Let's have another drink," suggested Murrell. + +Presently Hannibal stole out into the yard. He still held the +bill in his hand, for he did not quite know how to dispose of his +great wealth. After debating this matter for a moment he knotted +it carefully in one corner of his handkerchief. But this did not +quite suit him, for he untied the knot and looked at the bill +again, turning it over and over in his hand. Then he folded it +carefully into the smallest possible compass and once more tied a +corner of his handkerchief about it, this time with two knots +instead of one; these he afterward tested with his teeth. + +"I 'low she won't come undone now!" he said, with satisfaction. +He stowed the handkerchief away in his trousers pocket, ramming +it very tight with his fist. He was much relieved when this was +done, for wearing a care-free air he sauntered across the yard +and established himself on the top rail of the corn-field fence. + +The colored boy, armed with an ax, appeared at the woodpile and +began to chop in the desultory fashion of his race, pausing every +few seconds to stare in the direction of his white compatriot, +who met his glance with reserve. Whereupon Mr. Slosson's male +domestic indulged in certain strange antics that were not rightly +any part of woodchopping. This yet further repelled Hannibal. + +"The disgustin' chattel!" he muttered under his breath, quoting +his Uncle Bob, with whom, in theory at least, race feeling was +strong. Yancy appeared at the door of the bar and called to him, +and as the boy slid from the fence and ran toward him across the +yard, the Scratch Hiller sauntered forth to meet him. + +"I reckon it's all right, Nevvy," he said, "but we don't know +nothing about this here Captain Murrell--as he calls himself +--though he seems a right clever sort of gentleman; but we won't +mention Belle Plain." With this caution he led the way into the +tavern and back through the bar to a low-ceilinged room where +Murrell and Slosson were already at table. It was intolerably +hot, and there lingered in the heavy atmosphere of the place +stale and unappetizing odors. Only Murrell attempted +conversation and he was not encouraged; and presently silence +fell on the room except for the rattle of dishes and the buzzing +of flies. When they had finished, the stale odors and the heat +drove them quickly into the bar again, where for a little time +Hannibal sat on Yancy's knee, by the door. Presently he slipped +down and stole out into the yard. + +The June night was pulsing with life. Above him bats darted in +short circling flights. In the corn-field and pasture-lot the +fireflies lifted from their day-long sleep, showing pale points +of light in the half darkness, while from some distant pond or +stagnant watercourse came the booming of frogs, presently to +swell into a resonant chorus. These were the summer night sounds +he had known as far back as his memory went. + +In the tavern the three men were drinking--Murrell with the idea +that the more Yancy came under the influence of Slosson's corn +whisky the easier his speculation would be managed. Mr. Yancy on +his part believed that if Murrell went to bed reasonably drunk he +would sleep late and give him the opportunity he coveted, to quit +the tavern unobserved at break of day. Gradually the ice of +silence which had held them mute at supper, thawed. At first it +was the broken lazy speech of men who were disposed to quiet, +then the talk became brisk--a steady stream of rather dreary +gossip of horses and lands and negroes, of speculations past and +gone in these great staples. + +Hannibal crossed to the corn-field. There, in the friendly +gloom, he examined his handkerchief and felt of the rolled-up +bill. Then he made count of certain silver and copper coins +which he had in his other pocket. Satisfied that he had +sustained no loss, he again climbed to the top rail of the fence +where he seated himself with an elbow resting on one knee and his +chin in the palm of his hand. + +"I got ten dollars and seventy cents--yes, sir--and the clostest +shooting rifle I ever tossed to my shoulder." He seemed but +small to have accomplished such a feat. He meditated for a +little space. "I reckon when we strike the settlements again I +should like to buy my Uncle Bob a present." With knitted brows +he considered what this should be, canvassing Yancy's needs. He +had about decided on a ring such as Captain Murrell was wearing, +when he heard the shuffling of bare feet over the ground and a +voice spoke out of the darkness. + +"When yo' get to feelin' like sleep, young boss, Mas'r Slosson he +says I show yo' to yo' chamber." It was Slosson's boy Eph. + +"Did you-all happen to notice what they're doing in the tavern +now?" asked Hannibal. + +"I low they're makin' a regular hog-killin' of it," said Eph +smartly. Hannibal descended from the fence. + +"Yes, you can show me my chamber," he said, and his tone was +severe. What a white man did was not a matter for a black man to +criticize. They went toward the open door of the tavern. Mr. +Slosson's corn whisky had already wrought a marked transformation +in the case of Slosson himself. His usually terse speech was +becoming diffuse and irrelevant, while vacant laughter issued +from his lips. Yancy was apparently unaffected by the good cheer +of which he had partaken, but Murrell's dark face was flushed. +The Scratch Hiller's ability to carry his liquor exceeded +anything he had anticipated. + +"You-all run along to bed, Nevvy," said Yancy, as Hannibal +entered the room. "I'll mighty soon follow you." + +Eph secured a tin candle-stick with a half-burnt candle in it and +led the way into the passage back of the bar. + +"Mas'r Slosson's jus' mo' than layin' back!" he said, as he +closed the door after them. + +"I reckon you-all will lay back, too, when you get growed up," +retorted Hannibal. + +"No, sir, I won't. White folks won't let a nigger lay back. +Onliest time a nigger sees co'n whisky's when he's totin' it fo' +some one else." + +"I reckon a nigger's fool enough without corn whisky," said +Hannibal. They mounted a flight of stairs and passed down a +narrow hall. This brought them to the back of the building, and +Eph pushed open the door on his right. + +"This heah's yo' chamber," he said, and preceding his companion +into the room, placed the candle on a chair. + +"Well--I low I clean forgot something!" cried Hannibal. + +"If it's yo' bundle and yo' gun, I done fotched 'em up heah and +laid 'em on yo' bed," said Eph, preparing' to withdraw. + +"I certainly am obliged to you," said Hannibal, and with a good +night, Eph retired, closing the door after him, and the boy heard +the patter of his bare feet as he scuttled down the hall. + +The moon was rising and Hannibal went to the open window and +glanced out. His room overlooked the back yard of the inn and a +neglected truck patch. Starting from a point beyond the truck +patch and leading straight away to the woodland beyond was a +fenced lane, with the corn-field and the pasture-lot on either +hand. Immediately below his window was the steeply slanting roof +of a shed. For a moment he considered the night, not unaffected +by its beauty, then, turning from the window, he moved his bundle +and rifle to the foot of the bed, where they would be out of his +way, kicked off his trousers, blew out the candle and lay down. +The gossip of the men in the bar ran like a whisper through the +house, and with it came frequent bursts of noisy laughter. +Listening for these sounds the boy dozed off. + +Yancy had become more and more convinced as the evening passed +that Murrell was bent on getting him drunk, and suspicion mounted +darkly to his brain. He felt certain that he was Bladen's agent. +Now, Mr. Yancy took an innocent pride in his ability to "cool off +liquor." Perhaps it was some heritage from a well living +ancestry that had hardened its head with Port and Madeira in the +days when the Yancys owned their acres and their slaves. Be that +as it may, he was equal to the task he had set himself. He saw +with satisfaction the flush mount to Murrell's swarthy cheeks, +and felt that the limit of his capacity was being reached. Mr. +Slosson had become a sort of Greek chorus. He anticipated all +the possible phases of drunkenness that awaited his companions. +He went from silence to noisy mirth, when his unmeaning laughter +rang through the house; he told long witless stories as he leaned +against the bar; he became melancholy and described the loss of +his wife five years before. From melancholy he passed to +sullenness and seemed ready to fasten a quarrel on Yancy, but the +latter deftly evaded any such issue. + +"What you-all want is another drink," he said affably. "With all +you been through you need a tonic, so shove along that extract of +cornshucks and molasses!" + +"I'm a rip-staver," said Slosson thickly. "But I've knowed +enough sorrow to kill a horse." + +"You have that look. Captain, will you join us?" asked Yancy. +Murrell shook his head, but he made a significant gesture to +Slosson as Yancy drained his glass. + +"Have a drink with me!" cried Slosson, giving way to drunken +laughter. + +"Don't you reckon you'll spite yo' appetite fo' breakfast, +neighbor?" suggested Yancy. + +"Do you mean you won't drink with me?" roared Slosson. + +"The captain's dropped out and I 'low it's about time fo' these +here festivities to come to an end. I'm thinking some of going +to bed myself," said Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Murrell. +He realized that if the latter could prevent it he was not to +leave the bar. Murrell stood between him and the door; more than +this, he stood between him and his rifle, which leaned against +the wall in the far corner of the room. Slosson roared out a +protest to his words. "That's all right, neighbor," retorted +Yancy over his shoulder, "but I'm going to bed." He never +shifted his glance from Murrell's face. Seowling now, the +captain's eyes blazed back their challenge as he thrust his right +hand under his coat. "Fair play--I don't know who you are, but I +know what you want!" said Yancy, the light in his frank gray eyes +deepening. Murrell laughed and took a forward step. At the same +moment Slosson snatched up a heavy club from back of the bar and +dealt Yancy a murderous blow. A single startled cry escaped the +Scratch Hitler; he struck out wildly as he lurched toward +Murrell, who drew his knife and drove it into his shoulder. + +Groping wildly, Yancy reached his rifle and faced about. His +scalp lay open where Slosson's treacherous blow had fallen and +his face was covered with blood; even as his fingers stiffened +they found the hammer, but Murrell, springing forward, kicked the +gun out of his hands. Dashing the blood from his eyes, Yancy +threw himself on Murrell. Then, as they staggered to and fro, +Yancy dully bent on strangling his enemy, Slosson--whom the sight +of blood had wonderfully sobered--rushed out from the bar and let +loose a perfect torrent of blows with his club. Murrell felt the +fingers that gripped him grow weak, and Yancy dropped heavily to +the floor. + + +How long the boy slept he never knew, but he awoke with a start +and a confused sense of things. He seemed to have heard a cry +for help. But the tavern was very silent now. The distant +murmur of voices and the shouts of laughter had ceased. He +lifted himself up on his elbow and glanced from the window. The +heavens were pale and gray. It was evidently very late, probably +long after midnight but where was his Uncle Bob? + +He sank back on his pillow intent and listening. What he had +heard, what he still expected to hear, he could not have told, +but he was sure he had been roused by a cry of some sort. A +chilling terror that gripped him fast and would not let him go, +mounted to his brain. Once he thought he heard cautious steps +beyond his door. He could not be certain, yet he imagined the +bull-necked landlord standing with his ear to some crack seeking +to determine whether or not he slept. His thin little body grew +rigid and a cold sweat started from him. He momentarily expected +the latch to be lifted, then in the heavy silence he caught the +sound of some stealthy movement beyond the lath and plaster +partition, and an instant later an audible footfall. He heard +the boards creak and give, as the person who had been standing +before his door passed down the hall, down the stairs, and to the +floor below. + +Limp and shivering, he drew his scanty covering tight about him. +In the silence that succeeded, he once more became aware of the +tireless chorus of the frogs, the hooting of the owls, and the +melancholy and oft-repeated call of the whippoorwill. But where +was his Uncle Bob? Why didn't he come to bed? And whose was +that cry for help he had heard? Memories of idle tales of men +foully dealt with in these lonely taverns, of murderous +landlords, and mysterious guests who were in league with them, +flashed through his mind. + +Murrell had followed them for this--and had killed his Uncle Bob, +and he would be sent back to Bladen! The law had said that +Bladen could have him and that his Uncle Bob must give him up. +The law put men in prison--it hanged them sometimes--his Uncle +Bob had told him all about it--by the neck with ropes until they +were dead! Maybe they wouldn't send him back; maybe they would +do with him what they had already done with his Uncle Bob; he +wanted the open air, the earth under his feet, and the sky over +his head. The four walls stifled him. He was not afraid of the +night, be could run and hide in it--there were the woods and +fields where he would be safe. + +He slid from the bed, and for a long moment stood cold and +shaking, his every sense on the alert. With infinite caution he +got into his trousers and again paused to listen, since he feared +his least movement might betray him. Reassured, he picked up his +battered hat from the floor and inch by inch crept across the +squeaking boards to the window. When the window was reached he +paused once more to listen, but the quiet that was everywhere +throughout the house gave him confidence. He straddled the low +sill, and putting out his hand gripped the stock of his rifle and +drew that ancient weapon toward him. Next he secured his pack, +and was ready for flight. + +Encumbered by his belongings, but with no mind to sacrifice them, +he stepped out upon the shed and made his way down the slant of +the roof to the eaves. He tossed his bundle to the ground and +going down on his knees lowered his rifle, letting the muzzle +fall lightly against the side of the shed as it left his hand, +then he lay flat on his stomach and, feet first, wriggled out +into space. When he could no longer preserve his balance, he +gave himself a shove away from the eaves and dropped clear of the +building. + +As he recovered himself he was sure he heard a door open and +close, and threw himself prone on the ground, where the black +shadow cast by the tavern hid him. At the same moment two dark +figures came from about a corner of the building. He could just +distinguish that they carried some heavy burden between them and +that they staggered as they moved. He heard Slosson curse +drunkenly, and a whispered word from Murrell. The two men slowly +crossed the truck patch, and the boy's glance followed them, his +eyes starting from his head. Just at the mouth of the lane they +paused and put down their burden; a few words spoken in a whisper +passed between them and they began to drag some dark thing down +the lane, their backs bent, their heads bowed and the thing they +dragged bumping over the uneven ground. + +They passed out of sight, and breathless and palsied, Hannibal +crept about a corner of the tavern. He must be sure! The door +of the bar stood open; the lamps were still burning, and the +upturned chairs and a broken table told of the struggle that had +taken place there. The boy rested his hand on the top step as he +stared fearfully into the room. His palm came away with a great +crimson splotch. But he was not satisfied yet. He must be sure +--sure! He passed around the building as the men had done and +crossed the truck patch to the mouth of the lane. Here he slid +through the fence into the corn-field, and, well sheltered, +worked his way down the rows. Presently he heard a distant +sound--a splash--surely it was a splash--. + +A little later the men came up the lane, to disappear in the +direction of the tavern. Hannibal peered after them. His very +terrors, while they wrenched and tortured him, gave him a +desperate kind of courage. As the gloom hid the two men, he +started forward again; he must know the meaning of that sound +--that splash, if it was a splash. He reached the end of the +cornfield, climbed the fence, and entered a deadening of slashed +and mutilated timber. In the long wet grass he found where the +men had dragged their burden. He reached down and swept his hand +to and fro--once--twice--the third time his little palm came away +red and discolored. + +There was the first pale premonition of dawn in the sky, and as +he hurried on the light grew, and the black trunks of trees +detached themselves from the white mist that filled the woods and +which the dawn made visible. There was light enough for him to +see that he was following the trail left by the men; he could +distinguish where the dew had been brushed from the long grass. +Advancing still farther, he heard the clear splash of running +water, an audible ripple that mounted into a silver cadence. Day +was breaking now. The lifeless gray along the eastern horizon +had changed to orange. Still following the trail, he emerged +upon the bank of the Elk River, white like the woods with its +ghostly night sweat. + +The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on +the swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret. +Then the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him +and he was utterly desolate. Sobs shook him, and he dropped on +his knees, holding fast to the stock of his rifle. + +"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob, come back! Can't you come back!" he +wailed miserably. Presently he staggered to his feet. +Convulsive sobs still wrenched his little body. What was he to +do? Those men--his Uncle Bob's murderers--would go to his room; +they would find his empty bed and their search for him would +begin! Not for anything would he have gone back through the +corn-field or the lane to the road. He had the courage to go +forward, but not to retrace his steps; and the river, deep and +swift, barred his path. As he glanced about, he saw almost at +his feet a dug-out, made from a single poplar log. It was +secured to an overhanging branch by a length of wild grape-vine. +With one last fearful look off across the deadening in the +direction of the tavern, he crept down to the water's edge and +entered the canoe. In a moment, he had it free from its lashing +and the rude craft was bumping along the bank in spite of his +best efforts with the paddle. Then a favoring current caught it +and swept it out toward the center of the stream. + +It was much too big and clumsy for him to control without the +stream's help, though he labored doggedly with his paddle. Now +he was broadside to the current, now he was being spun round and +round, but always he was carried farther and farther from the +spot where he had embarked. He passed about a bend; and a +hundred yards beyond, about a second bend; then the stream opened +up straight before him a half-mile of smooth running water. Far +down it, at the point where the trees met in the unbroken line of +the forest and the water seemed to vanish mysteriously, he could +distinguish a black moving object; some ark or raft, doubtless. + +In the smoother water of the long reach, Hannibal began to make +head against the flood. The farther shore became the nearer, and +finally he drove the bow of his canoe up on a bit of shelving +bank, and seizing his pack and rifle, sprang ashore. Panting and +exhausted, he paused just long enough to push the canoe out into +the stream again, and then, with his rifle and pack in his hands, +turned his small tear-stained face toward the wooded slope +beyond. As he toiled up it in the wide silence of the dawn, a +mournful wind burst out of the north, filling the air about him +with withered leaves and the dead branches of trees. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ON THE RIVER + + +Betty stood under a dripping umbrella in the midst of a drenching +downpour, her boxes and trunks forming a neat pyramid of +respectable size beside her. She was somewhat perturbed in +spirit, since they contained much elaborate finery all in the +very latest eastern fashion, spoils that were the fruit of a +heated correspondence with Tom, who hadn't seemed at all alive to +the fact that Betty was nearly eighteen and in her own right a +young woman of property. A tarpaulin had been thrown over the +heap, and with one eye on it and the other on the stretch of +yellow canal up which they were bringing the fast packet Pioneer, +she was waiting impatiently to see her belongings transferred to +a place of safety. + +Just arrived by the four-horse coach that plyed regularly between +Washington and Georgetown, she had found the long board platform +beside the canal crowded with her fellow passengers, their number +augmented by those who delight to share vicariously in travel and +to whom the departure of a stage or boat was a matter of urgent +interest requiring their presence, rain or shine. Suddenly she +became aware of a tall, familiar figure moving through the crowd. +It was Bruce Carrington. At the same moment he saw her, and with +a casual air that quite deceived her, approached; and Betty, who +had been feeling very lonely and very homesick, was somehow +instantly comforted at sight of him. She welcomed him almost as +a friend. + +"You're leaving to-night?" he asked. + +"Yes--isn't it miserable the way it rains? And why are they so +slow--why don't they hurry with that boat?" + +"It's in the last lock now," explained Carrington. + +"My clothes will all be ruined," said Betty. He regarded the +dress she wore with instant concern. "No--I mean the things in +my trunks; this doesn't matter," and Betty nodded toward the pile +under the steaming tarpaulin. Carrington's dark eyes opened with +an expression of mild wonder. And so those trunks were full of +clothes--Oh, Lord!--he looked down at the flushed, impatient face +beside him with amusement. + +"I'll see that they are taken care of," he said, for the boat was +alongside the platform now; and gathering up Betty's hand +luggage, he helped her aboard. + +By the time they had reached Wheeling, Betty had quite parted +with whatever superficial prejudice she might have had concerning +river-men. This particular one was evidently a very nice +river-man, an exception to his kind. She permitted him to assume +the burden of her plans, and no longer scanned the pages of her +Badger's and Porter's with a puckered brow. It reposed at the +bottom of her satchel. He made choice of the steamer on which +she should continue her journey, and thoughtfully chose The +Naiad--a slow boat, with no reputation for speed to sustain. It +meant two or three days longer on the river, but what of that? +There would be no temptation in the engine-room to attach a +casual wrench or so to the safety-valve as an offset to the +builder's lack of confidence in his own boilers. He saw to it +that her state-room was well aft--steamers had a trick of blowing +up forward. + +Ne had now reached a state of the utmost satisfaction with +himself and the situation. Betty was friendly and charming. He +walked with her, and he talked with her by the hour; and always +he was being entangled deeper and deeper in the web of her +attraction. "When alone he would pace the deck recalling every +word she had spoken. There was that little air of high breeding +which was Betty's that fascinated him. He had known something of +the other sort, those who had arrived at prosperity with manners +and speech that still reflected the meaner condition from which +they had risen. + +"I haven't a thing to offer her--this is plain madness of mine!" +he kept telling himself, and then the expression of his face +would become grim and determined. No more of the river for him +--he'd get hold of some land and go to raising cotton; that was the +way money was made. + +Slow as The Naiad was, the days passed much too swiftly for him. +When Memphis was reached their friendly intercourse would come to +an end. There would be her brother, of whom she had occasionally +spoken--he would be pretty certain to have the ideas of his +class. + +As for Betty, she liked this tall fellow who helped her through +the fatigue of those long days, when there was only the unbroken +sweep of the forest on either hand, with here and there a +clearing where some outrageous soul was making a home for +himself. The shores became duller, wilder, more uninteresting as +they advanced, and then at last they entered the Mississippi, and +she was almost home. + +Betty was not unexcited by the prospect. She would be the +mistress of the most splendid place in West Tennessee. She +secretly aspired to be a brilliant hostess. She could remember +when the doors of Belle Plain were open to whoever had the least +claim to distinction--statesmen and speculators in land; men who +were promoting those great schemes of improvement, canals and +railroads; hard-featured heroes of the two wars with England--a +diminishing group; the men of the modern army, the pathfinders, +and Indian fighters, and sometimes a titled foreigner. She +wondered if Tom had maintained the traditions of the place. She +found that Carrington had heard of Belle Plain. He spoke of it +with respect, but with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, for how +could he feel enthusiasm when he must begin his chase after +fortune with bare hands?--he suffered acutely whenever it was +mentioned. The days, like any other days, dwindled. The end of +it all was close at hand. Another twenty-four hours and +Carrington reflected there would only be good-by to say. + +"We will reach New Madrid to-night," he told her. They were +watching the river, under a flood of yellow moonlight. + +"And then just another day--Oh, I can hardly wait!" cried Betty +delightedly. "Soon I shall hope to see you at Belle Plain, Mr. +Carrington," she added graciously. + +"Thank you, your--your family--" he hesitated. + +"There's only just Tom--he's my half-brother. My mother was left +a widow when I was a baby. Later, some years after, she married +Tom's father." + +"Oh--then he's not even your half-brother?" + +"He's no relation at all--and much older. When Tom's father died +my mother made Tom, manager, and still later he was appointed my +guardian." + +"Then you own Belle Plain?" and Carrington sighed. + +"Yes. You have never seen it?--it's right on the river, you +know?" then Betty's face grew sober: "Tom's dreadfully queer--I +expect he'll require a lot of managing!" + +"I reckon you'll be equal to that!" said-Carrington, convinced of +Betty's all-compelling charm. + +"No, I'm not at all certain about Tom--I can see where we shall +have serious differences; but then, I shan't have to struggle +single-handed with him long; a cousin of my mother's is coming to +Belle Plain to make her home with me--she'll make' him behave," +and Betty laughed maliciously. "It's a great nuisance being a +girl!" + +Then Betty fell to watching for the lights at New Madrid, her +elbows resting on the rail against which she was leaning, and the +soft curve of her chin sunk in the palms of her hands. She +wondered absently what Judith would have said of this river-man. +She smiled a little dubiously. Judith had certainly vindicated +the sincerity of her convictions regarding the importance of +family, inasmuch as in marrying Ferris she had married her own +second cousin. She nestled her chin a little closer in her +palms. She remembered that they had differed seriously over Mr. +Yancy's defiance, of the law as it was supposed to be lodged in +the sacred person of Mr. Bladen's agent, the unfortunate Blount. +Carrington, with his back against a stanchion, watched her +discontentedly. + +"You'll be mighty glad to have this over with, Miss Malroy--" he +said at length, with a comprehensive sweep toward the river. + +"Yes--shan't you?" and she opened her eyes questioningly. + +"No," said Carrington with a short laugh, drawing a chair near +hers and sitting down. + +Betty, in surprise, gave him a quick look, and then as quickly +glanced away from what she encountered in his eyes. Men were +accustomed to talk sentiment to her, but she had hoped--well, she +really had thought that he was, superior to this weakness. She +had enjoyed the feeling that here was some one, big and strong +and thoroughly masculine, with whom she could be friendly +without--she took another look at him from under the fringe of +her long lashes. He was so nice and considerate--and good +looking--he was undeniably this last. It would be a pity! And +she had already determined that Tom should invite him to Belle +Plain. She didn't mind if he was a river-man--they could be +friends, for clearly he was such an exception. Tom should be +cordial to him. Betty stared before her, intently watching the +river. As she looked, suddenly pale points of light appeared on +a distant headland. + +"Is that New Madrid?--Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?"' she cried +eagerly. + +"I reckon so," but he did not alter his position. + +"But you're not looking!" + +"Yes, I am--I'm looking at you. I reckon you'll think me crazy, +Miss Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be +wiped off the map and that we could go on like this for ever! +--no, not like this but together--you and I" he took a deep breath. +Betty drew a little farther away, and looked at him +reproachfully; and then she turned to the dancing lights far down +the river. Finally she said slowly: + +"I thought you were--different." + +"I'm not," and Carrington's hand covered hers. + +"Oh--you mustn't kiss my hand like that--" + +"Dear--I'm just a man--and you didn't expect, did you, that I +could see you this way day after day and not come to love you?" +He rested his arm across the back of her chair and leaned toward +her. + +"No--no--" and Betty moved still farther away. + +"Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!" + +"You mustn't talk so--I am nothing to you--" + +"Yes, you are. You're everything to me," said Carrington +doggedly. + +"I'm not--I won't be!" and Betty stamped her foot. + +"You can't help it. I love you and that's all there is about it. +I know I'm a fool to tell you now, Betty, but years wouldn't make +any difference in my feeling; and I can't have you go, and +perhaps never see you again, if I can help it. Betty--give me a +chance--you don't hate me--" + +"But I do--yes, I do--indeed--" + +"I know you don't. Let me see you again and do what I can to +make you care for me!" he implored. But he had a very indignant +little aristocrat to deal with. She was angry with him, and +angry with herself that in spite of herself his words moved her. +She wouldn't have it so! Why, he wasn't even of her class--her +kind! "Betty, you don't mean--" he faltered. + +"I mean--I am extremely annoyed. I mean just what I say." Betty +regarded him with wrathful blue eyes. It proved too much for +Carrington. His arm, dropped about her shoulders. + +"You shall love me--" She was powerless in his embrace. She +felt his breath on her cheek, then he kissed her. Breathless and +crimson, she struggled and pushed him from her. Suddenly his +arms fell at hisside; his face was white. "I was a brute to do +that!--Betty, forgive me! I am sorry--no, I can't be sorry!"' + +"How do you dare! I hope I may never see you again--I hate you +--" said Betty furiously, tears in her eyes and her pulses still +throbbing from his fierce caress. + +"Do you mean that?" he asked slowly, rising. + +"Yes--yes--a million times, yes!" + +"I don't believe you--I can't--I won't!" They were alongside the +New Madrid wharf now, and a certain young man who had been +impatiently watching The Naiad's lights ever since they became +visible crossed the gang-plank with a bound. + +"Betty--why in the name of goodness did you ever, choose this +tub?--everything on the river has passed it!" said the newcomer. +Betty started up with a little cry of surprise and pleasure. + +"Charley!" + +Carrington stepped back. This must be the brother who had come +up the river from Memphis to meet her--but her brother's name was +Tom! He looked this stranger--this Charley--over with a hostile +eye, offended by his good looks, his confident manner, in which +he thought he detected an air of ownership, as if--certainly he +was holding her hands longer than was necessary! Of course, +other men were in love with her, such a radiant personality held +its potent attraction for men, but for all that, she was going to +belong to him--Carrington! She did like him; she had shown it in +a hundred little ways during the last week, and he would give her +up to no man--give her up?--there wasn't the least tie between +them--except that kiss--and she was furious because of it. There +was nothing for him to do but efface himself. He would go now, +before the boat started--and an instant later, when Betty, +remembering, turned to speak to him, his place by the rail was +deserted. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JUDGE SLOCUM PRICE + + +Athat day Hannibal was haunted by the memory of what he had heard +and seen at Slosson's tavern. More than this, there was his +terrible sense of loss, and the grief he could not master, when +his thin, little body was shaken by sobs. Marking the course of +the road westward, he clung to the woods, where his movements +were as stealthy as the very shadows themselves. He shunned the +scattered farms and the infrequent settlements, for the fear was +strong with him that he might be followed either by Murrell or +Slosson. But as the dusk of evening crept across the land, the +great woods, now peopled by strange shadows, sent him forth into +the highroad. He was beginning to be very tired, and hunger +smote him with fierce pangs, but back of it all was his sense of +bitter loss, his desolation, and his loneliness. + +"I couldn't forget Uncle Bob if I tried--" he told himself, with +quivering lips, as he limped wearily along the dusty road, and +the tears welled up and streaked his pinched face. Now before +him he saw the scattered lights of a settlement. All his +terrors, the terrors that grouped themselves about the idea of +pursuit and capture, rushed back upon him, and in a panic he +plunged into the black woods again. + +But the distant lights intensified his loneliness. He had lived +a whole day without food, a whole day without speech. He began +to skirt the settlement, keeping well within the thick gloom of +the woods, and presently, as he stumbled forward, he came to a +small clearing in the center of which stood a log dwelling. The +place seemed deserted. There was no sign of life, no light shone +from the window, no smoke issued from the stick-and-mud chimney. + +Tilted back in a chair by the door of this house a man was +sleeping. The hoot of an owl from a near-by oak roused him. He +yawned and stretched himself, thrusting out his fat legs and +extending his great arms. Then becoming aware of the small +figure which had stolen up the path as he slept and now stood +before him in the uncertain light, he fell to rubbing his eyes +with the knuckles of his plump hands. The pale night mist out of +the silent depths of the forest had assumed shapes as strange. + +"Who are you?" he demanded, and his voice rumbled thickly forth +from his capacious chest. The very sound was sleek and unctuous. + +"I'm Hannibal," said the small figure. He was meditating flight; +he glanced over his shoulder toward the woods. + +"No, you ain't. He's been dead a thousand years, more or less. +Try again," recommended the man. + +"I'm Hannibal Wayne Hazard," said the boy. The man quitted his +chair. + +"Well--I am glad to know you, Hannibal Wayne Hazard. I am Slocum +Price--Judge Slocum Price, sometime major-general of militia and +ex-member of congress, to mention a few of those honors my fellow +countrymen have thrust upon me." He made a sweeping gesture with +his two hands outspread and bowed ponderously. + +The boy saw a man of sixty, whose gross and battered visage told +its own story. There was a sparse white frost about his ears; +and his eyes, pale blue and prominent, looked out from under +beetling brows. He wore a shabby plum-colored coat and tight, +drab breeches. About his fat neck was a black stock, with just a +suggestion of soiled linen showing above it. His figure was +corpulent and unwieldy. + +The man saw a boy of perhaps ten, barefoot, and clothed in +homespun shirt and trousers. On his head was a ruinous hat much +too large for him, but which in some mysterious manner he +contrived to keep from quite engulfing his small features, which +were swollen and tear-stained. In his right hand he carried a +bundle, while his left clutched the brown barrel of a long rifle. + +"You don't belong in these parts, do you?" asked the judge, when +he had completed his scrutiny. + +"No, sir," answered the boy. He glanced off down the road, where +lights were visible among the trees. "What town is that?" he +added. + +"Pleasantville--which is a lie--but I am neither sufficiently +drunk nor sufficiently sober to cope with the possibilities your +question offers. It is a task one should approach only after +extraordinary preparation," and the sometime major-general of +militia grinned benevolently. + +"It's a town, ain't it?" asked Hannibal doubtfully. He scarcely +understood this large, smiling gentleman who was so civilly given +to speech with him, yet strangely enough he was not afraid of +him, and his whole soul craved human companionship. + +"It's got a name--but you'll excuse me, I'd much prefer not to +tell you how I regard it--you're too young to hear. But stop a +bit--have you so much as fifty cents about you?" and the judge's +eyes narrowed to a slit above their folds of puffy flesh. +Hannibal, keeping his glance fixed on the man's face, fell back a +step. "I can't let you go if you are penniless--I can't do +that!" cried the judge, with sudden vehemence. "You shall +be my guest for the night. They're a pack of thieves at the +tavern," he lowered his voice. "I know 'em, for they've plucked +me!" To make sure of his prey, he rested a fat hand on the boy's +shoulder and drew him gently but firmly into the shanty. As they +crossed the threshold he kicked the door shut, then with flint +and steel he made a light, and presently a candle was sputtering +in his hands. He fitted it into the neck of a tall bottle, and +as the light flared up the boy glanced about him. + +The interior was mean enough, with its rough walls, dirt floor +and black, cavernous fireplace. A rude clapboard table did duty +as a desk, a fact made plain by a horn ink-well, a notary's seal, +and a rack with a half-dozen quill pens. Above the desk was a +shelf of books in worn calf bindings, and before it a rickety +chair. A shakedown bed in one corner of the room was tastefully +screened from the public gaze by a tattered quilt. + +"Boy, don't be afraid. Look on me as a friend," urged the judge, +who towered above him in the dim candle-light. "Here's comfort +without ostentation. Don't tell me you prefer the tavern, with +its corrupt associations!" Hannibal was silent, and the judge, +after a brief moment of irresolution, threw open the door. Then +he bent toward the small stranger, bringing his face close to the +child's, while his thick lips wreathed themselves in a smile +ingratiatingly genial. "You can't look me squarely in the eye +and say you prefer the tavern to these scholarly surroundings?" +he said banteringly. + +"I reckon I'll be glad to stop," answered Hannibal. The judge +clapped him piayfully on the back. + +"Such confidence is inspiring! Make yourself perfectly at home. +Are you hungry?" + +"Yes, sir. I ain't had much to eat to-day," replied Hannibal +cautiously. + +"I can offer you food then. What do you say to cold fish?" the +judge smacked his lips to impart a relish to the idea. "I dare +swear I can find you some corn bread into the bargain. Tea I +haven't got. On the advice of my physician, I don't use it. +What do you say--shall we light a fire and warm the fish?" + +"I 'low I could eat it cold." + +"No trouble in the world to start a fire. All we got to do is to +go out, and pull a few palings off the fence," urged the judge. + +"It will do all right just like it is," said Hannibal. + +"Very good, then! " cried the judge gaily, and he began to +assemble the dainties he had enumerated. "Here you are!" he +cleared his throat impressively, while benignity shone from every +feature of his face. "A moment since you allowed me to think +that you were solvent to the extent of fifty cents--" Hannibal +looked puzzled. The judge dealt him a friendly blow on the +back, then stood off and regarded him with a glance of great +jocularity, his plump knuckles on his hips and his arms akimbo. +"I wonder"--and his eyes assumed a speculative squint "I wonder +if you could be induced to make a temporary loan of that fifty +cents? The sum involved is really such a ridiculous trifle I +don't need to point out to you the absolute moral certainty of my +returning it at an early date--say to-morrow morning; say +to-morrow afternoon at the latest; say even the day after at the +very outside. Meantime, you shall be my guest. The landlady's +son has found my notarial seal an admirable plaything--she has +had to lick the little devil twice for hooking it--my pens and +stationery are at your disposal, should you desire to communicate +to absent friends; you can have the run of my library!" the judge +fairly trembled in his eagerness. It was not the loss of his +money that Hannibal most feared, and the coin passed from his +possession into his host's custody. As it dropped into the +latter's great palm he was visibly moved. His moist, blue eyes +became yet more watery, while his battered old face assumed an +expression indicating deep inward satisfaction. "Thank you, my +boy! This is one of those intrinsically trifling benefits which, +conferred at the moment of acute need, touch the heart and tap +the unfailing springs of human gratitude--I must step down to the +tavern--when I return, please God, we shall know more of each +other." While he was still speaking he had produced a jug from +behind the quilt that screened his bed, and now, bareheaded, and +with every indication of haste, took himself off into the night. + +Left alone, Hannibal gravely seated himself at the table. What +the judge's larder lacked in variety it more than made up for in +quantity, and the boy was grateful for this fact. He was half +famished, and the coarse, abundant food was of the sort to which +he was accustomed. Presently he heard the judge's heavy, +shuffling step as he came up the path from the road, and a moment +later his gross bulk of body filled the doorway. Breathing hard +and perspiring, the judge entered the shanty, but his eagerness, +together with his shortness of breath, kept him silent until he +had established himself in his chair beside the table, with the +jug and a cracked glass at his elbow. Then, bland and smiling, +he turned toward his guest. + +"Will you join me?" he asked. + +"No, sir. Please, I'd rather not," said Hannibal. + +"Do you mean that you don't like good liquor?" demanded the +judge. "Not even with sugar and a dash of water?--say, now, +don't you like it that way, my boy?" + +"I ain't learned to like it no ways," said Hannibal. + +"You amaze me--well--well--the greater the joy to which you may +reasonably aspire. The splendid possibilities of youth are +yours. My tenderest regards, Hannibal!" and he nodded over the +rim of the cracked glass his shaking hand had carried to his +lips. Twice the glass was filled and emptied, and then again, +his roving, watery eyes rested meditatively on the child, who sat +very erect in his chair, with his brown hands crossed in his lap. +"Personally, I can drink or not," explained the judge. "But I +hope I am too much a man of the world to indulge in any +intemperate display of principle." He proved the first clause of +his proposition by again filling and emptying his glass. "Have +you a father?" he asked suddenly. Hannibal shook his head. "A +mother?" demanded the judge. + +"They both of them done died years and years ago," answered the +boy. "I can't tell you how long back it was, but I reckon I +don't know much about it. I must have been a small child." + +"Ho--a small child!" cried the judge, laughing. He cocked his +head on one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance +of comic seriousness. "A small child and in God's name what do +you call yourself now? To hear you talk one would think you had +dabbled your feet in the Flood!" + +"I'm most ten," said Hannibal, with dignity. + +"I can well believe it," responded the judge. "And with this +weight of years, where did you come from and how did you get +here?" + +"From across the mountains." + +"Alone?" + +"No, sir. Mr. Yancy fetched me--part way." The boy's voice +broke when he spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with +tears, but the judge did not notice this. + +"And where are you going?" + +"To West Tennessee." + +"Have you any friends there?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You've money enough to see you through?" and what the judge +intended for a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of +infinite cunning. + +"I got ten dollars." + +"Ten dollars--" the judge smacked his lips once. "Ten dollars" +he repeated, and smacked his lips twice. There was a brief +silence, in which he seemed to give way to pleasant reveries. + +From beyond the open door of the shanty came a multitude of night +sounds. The moon had risen, and what had been a dusty country +road was now a streak of silver in the hot light. The purple +flush on the judge's face, where the dignity that belonged to age +had gone down in wreck, deepened. The sparse, white frost above +his ears was damp with sweat. He removed his stock, opened his +shirt at the neck, and cast aside his coat; then he lighted a +blackened pipe, filled his glass, and sank back in his chair. +The long hours of darkness were all before him, and his senses +clothed themselves in rich content. Once more his glance rested +on the boy. Here, indeed, was a guest of whom one might make +much and not err--he felt all the benevolence of his nature flow +toward him. Ten dollars! + +"Certainly the tavern would have been no place for you! Well, +thank God, it wasn't necessary for you to go there. You are more +than welcome here. I tell you, when you know this place as I +know it, you'll regard every living soul here with suspicion. +Keep 'em at arm's length!" he sank his voice to an impressive +whisper. "In particular, I warn you against a certain Solomon +Mahaffy. You'll see much of him; I haven't known how to rebuff +the fellow without being rude--he sticks to me like my shadow. +He's profited by my charity and he admires my conversation and +affects my society, but don't tell him you have so much as a +rusty copper, for he will neither rest nor eat nor sleep until +he's plucked you--tell him nothing--leave him to me. I keep him +--there--" the judge extended his fat hands, "at arm's length. I +say to him metaphorically speaking--'so close, but no closer. +I'll visit you when sick, I'll pray with you when dying, I'll +chat with you, I'll eat with you, I'll smoke with you, and if +need be, I'll drink with you--but be your intimate? Never! Why? +Because be's a damned Yankee! These are the inextinguishable +feelings of a gentleman. I am aware they are out of place in +this age, but what's bred in the bone will show in the flesh. +Who says it won't, is no gentleman himself and a liar as well! +My place in the world was determined two or three hundred years +ago, and my ancestors spat on such cattle as Mahaffy and they +were flattered by the attention!" The judge, powerfully excited +by his denunciation of the unfortunate Mahaffy, quitted his chair +and, lurching somewhat as he did so, began to pace the floor. + +"Take me for your example, boy! You may be poor, you may +possibly be hungry you'll often be thirsty, but through it all +you will remain that splendid thing--a gentleman! Lands, +niggers, riches, luxury, I've had 'em all; I've sucked the good +of 'em; they've colored my blood, they've gone into the fiber of +my brain and body. Perhaps you'll contend that the old order is +overthrown, that family has gone to the devil? You are right, +and there's the pity of it! Where are the great names? A race +of upstarts has taken their place--sons of nobody--nephews of +nobody--cousins of nobody--I observe only deterioration in the +trend of modern life. The social fabric is tottering--I can see +it totter--" and he tottered himself as he said this. + +The boy had watched him out of wide eyes, as ponderous and +unwieldy he shuffled back and forth in the dim candlelight; now +shaking his head and muttering, the judge dropped into his chair. + +"Well, I'm an old man-the spectacle won't long offend me. I'll +die presently. The Bench and Bar will review my services to the +country, the militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside, +here and there a flag will be at half-mast, and that will be the +end--" He was so profoundly moved by the thought that he could +not go on. His voice broke, and he buried his face in his arms. +A sympathetic moisture had gathered in the child's eyes. He +understood only a small part of what his host was saying, but +realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own +terrible acquaintance with death. He slipped from his chair and +stole to the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand +rest lightly on his arm. + +"What?" he said, glancing up. + +"I'm mighty sorry you're going to die," said the boy softly. + +"Bless you, Hannibal!" cried the judge, looking wonderfully +cheerful, despite his recent bitterness of spirit. "I'm not +experiencing any of the pangs of mortality now. My dissolution +ain't a matter of to-night or to-morrow--there's some life in +Slocum Price yet, for all the rough usage, eh? I've had my +fun--I could tell you a thing or two about that, if you had hair +on your chin!" and the selfish lines of his face twisted +themselves into an exceedingly knowing grin. + +"You talked like you thought you were going to die right off," +said Hannibal gravely, as he resumed his chair. The judge was +touched. It had been more years than he cared to remember since +he had launched a decent emotion in the breast of any human +being. For a moment he was silent, struck with a sense of shame; +then he said: + +"You are sure you are not running away, Hannibal? I hope you +know that boys should always tell the truth--that hell has its +own especial terrors for the boy who lies? Now, if I thought the +worst of you, I might esteem it my duty to investigate your +story." The judge laid a fat forefinger against the side of his +nose, and regarded him with drunken gravity. Hannibal shook with +terror. This was what he had feared. "That's one aspect of the +case. Now, on the other hand, I might draw up a legal instrument +which could not fail to be of use to you on your travois, and +would stop all questions. As for my fee, it would be trifling, +when compared with the benefits I can see accruing to you." + +"No, I ain't running away. I ain't got no one to run away from," +said the boy chokingly. He was showing signs of fatigue. His +head drooped and he met the judge's glance with tired, sleepy +eyes. The latter looked at him and then said suddenly: + +"I think you'd better go to bed." + +"I reckon I had," agreed Hannibal, slipping from his chair. + +"Well, take my bed back of the quilt. You'll find a hoe there. +You can dig up the dirt under the shuck tick with it--which helps +astonishingly. What would the world say if it could know that +judge Slocum Price makes his bed with a hoe! There's Spartan +hardihood!" but the boy, not knowing what was meant by Spartan +hardihood, remained silent. "Nearing threescore years and ten, +the allotted span as set down by the Psalmist--once man of +fashion, soldier, statesman and lawgiver--and makes his bed with +a hoe! What a history!" muttered the judge with weary +melancholy, as one groping hand found the jug while the other +found the glass. There was a pause, while he profited by this +fortunate chance. "Well, take the bed," he resumed hospitably. + +"I can sleep most anywhere. I ain't no ways particular," said +Hannibal. + +"I say, take the bed!" commanded the judge sternly. And Hannibal +quickly retired behind the quilt. "Do you find it comfortable?" +the judge asked, when the rustling of the shuck tick informed him +that the child had lain down. + +"Yes, sir," said the boy. + +"Have you said your prayers?" inquired the judge:. + +"No, sir. I ain't said 'em yet." + +"Well, say them now. Religion is as becoming in the young as it +is respectable in the aged. I'll not disturb you to-night, for +it is God's will that I should stay up and get very drunk." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +BOON COMPANIONS + + +Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond +his door, and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on +his threshold. A whispered curse slipped from between his lips. +Aloud he said: + +"Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?" He got no reply, but the tall +figure, propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and +a pair of keen, restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head +were bent curiously upon him. + +"I take it I'm intruding," the new-comer said sourly. + +"Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy? When has my door +been closed on you?" the judge asked, but there was a guilty +deepening of the flush on his face. Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the +jug, at the half-emptied glass within convenient reach of the +judge's hand, lastly at the judge himself, on whose flame-colored +visage his eyes rested longest. + +"I've heard said there was honor among thieves," he remarked. + +"I know of no one better fitted to offer an opinion on so +delicate a point than just yourself, Mahaffy," said the judge, +with a thick little ripple of laughter. + +But Solomon Mahaffy's long face did not relax in its set +expression. + +"I saw your light," he explained, "but you seem to be raising +first-rate hell all by yourself." + +"Oh, be reasonable, Solomon. You'd gone down to the steamboat +landing," said the judge plaintively. By way of answer, Mahaffy +shot him a contemptuous glance. "Take a chair--do, Solomon!" +entreated the judge. + +"I don't force my society on any man, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy, +with austere hostility of tone. The judge winced at the "Mr." +That registered the extreme of Mahaffy's disfavor. + +"You feel bitter about this, Solomon?" he said. + +"I do," said Mahaffy, in a tone of utter finality. + +"You'll feel better with three fingers of this trickling through +your system," observed the judge, pushing a glass toward him. + +"When did I ever sneak a jug into my shanty?" asked Mahaffy +sternly, evidently conscious of entire rectitude in this matter. + +"I deplore your choice of words, Solomon," said the judge. "You +know damn well that if you'd been here I couldn't have got past +your place with that jug! But let's deal with conditions. +Here's the jug, with some liquor left in it--here's a glass. Now +what more do you want?" + +"Have I ever been caught like this?" demanded Mahaffy. + +"No, you've invariably manifested the honorable disabilities of a +gentleman. But don't set it all down to virtue. Maybe you +haven't had the opportunity, maybe the temptation never came and +found you weak and thirsty. Put away your sinful pride, Solomon +--a sot like you has no business with the little niceties of +selfrespect." + +"Do I drink alone?" insisted Mahaffy doggedly. + +"I never give you the chance," retorted his friend. Mr. Mahaffy +drew near the table. "Sit down," urged the judge. + +"I hope you feel mean?" said Mahaffy. + +"If it's any satisfaction to you, I do," admitted the judge. + +"You ought to." Mahaffy drew forward a chair. The judge filled +his glass. But Mr. Mahaffy's lean face, with its long jaws and +high cheek-bones, over which the sallow skin was tightly drawn, +did not relax in its forbidding expression, even when he had +tossed off his first glass. + +"I love to see you in a perfectly natural attitude like that, +Solomon, with your arm crooked. What's the news from the +landing?" + +Mahaffy brought his fist down on the table. + +"I heard the boat churning away round back of the bend, then I +saw the lights, and she tied up and they tossed off the freight. +Then she churned away again and her lights got back of the trees +on the bank. There was the lap of waves on the shore, and I was +left with the half-dozen miserable loafers who'd crawled out to +see the boat come in. That's the news six days a week!" + +By the river had come the judge, tentatively hopeful, but at +heart expecting nothing, therefore immune to disappointment and +equipped for failure. By the river had come Mr. Mahaffy, as +unfit as the judge himself, and for the same reason, but sour and +bitter with the world, believing always in the possibility of +some miracle of regeneration. + +Pleasantville's weekly paper, The Genius of Liberty, had dwelt at +length upon those distinguished services judge Slocum Price had +rendered the nation in war and peace, the judge having graciously +furnished an array of facts otherwise difficult of access. That +he was drunk at the time had but added to the splendor of the +narrative. He had placed his ripe wisdom, the talents he had so +assiduously cultivated, at the services of his fellow citizens. +He was prepared to represent them in any or all the courts. But +he had remained undisturbed in his condition of preparedness; +that erudite brain was unconcerned with any problem beyond +financing his thirst at the tavern, where presently ingenuity, +though it expressed itself with a silver tongue, failed him, and +he realized that the river's spent floods had left him stranded +with those other odds and ends of worthless drift that cumbered +its sun-scorched mud banks. + +Something of all this passed through his mind as he sat there +sodden and dreamy, with the one fierce need of his nature quieted +for the moment. He had been stranded before, many times, in +those long years during which he had moved steadily toward a +diminishing heritage; indeed, nothing that was evil could contain +the shock of a new experience. He had fought and lost all his +battles--bitter struggles to think of even now, after the lapse +of years, and the little he had to tell of himself was an +intricate mingling of truth and falsehood, grotesque +exaggeration, purposeless mendacity. + +He and Mahaffy had met exactly one month before, on the deck of +the steamer from which they had been put ashore at the river +landing two miles from Pleasantville. Mahaffy's historic era had +begun just there. Apparently he had no past of which he could be +brought to speak. He admitted having been born in Boston some +sixty years before, and was a printer by trade; further than +this, he had not revealed himself, drunk or sober. + +At the judge's elbow Mr. Mahaffy changed his position with +nervous suddenness. Then he folded his long arms. + +"You asked if there was any news, Price; while we were waiting +for the boat a raft tied up to the bank; the fellow aboard of it +had a man he'd fished up out of the river, a man who'd been +pretty well cut to pieces." + +"Who was he?" asked the judge. + +"Nobody knew, and he wasn't conscious. I shouldn't be surprised +if he never opens his lips again. When the doctor had looked to +his cuts, the fellow on the raft cast off and went on down the +Elk." + +It occurred to the judge that he himself had news to impart. He +must account for the boy's presence. + +"While you've been taking your whiff of life down at the +steamboat landing, Mahaffy, I've been experiencing a most +extraordinary coincidence." The judge paused. By a sullen glare +in his deep-sunk eyes Mr. Mahaffy seemed to bid him go on. "Back +east--" the judge jerked his thumb with an indefinite gesture +"back east at my ancestral home--" Mahaffy snorted harshly. "You +don't believe I had an ancestral home?--well, I had! It was of +brick, sir, with eight Corinthian columns across the front, +having a spacious paneled hall sixty feet long. I had the +distinguished honor to entertain General Andrew Jackson there." + +"Did you get those dimensions out of the jug?" inquiry Mahaffy, +with a frightful bark that was intended for a sarcastic laugh. + +"Sir, it is not in your province to judge me by my present +degraded associates. Near the house I have described--my +father's and his father's before him, and mine now--but for the +unparalleled misfortunes which have pursued me--lived a family by +the name of Hazard. And when I went to the war of 'i2--" + +"What were you in that bloody time, a sutler?" inquired Mahaffy +insultingly. + +"No, sir--a colonel of infantry!--I say, when I went to the war, +one of these Hazards accompanied me as my orderly. His grandson +is back of that curtain now--asleep--in my bed!" Mahaffy put +down his glass. + +"You were like this once before," he said darkly. But at that +instant the shuck tick rattled noisily at some movement of the +sleeping boy. Mahaffy quitted his chair, and crossing the room, +drew the quilt aside. A glance sufficed to assure him that in +part, at least, the judge spoke the truth. He let the curtain +fall into place and resumed his chair. + +"He's an orphan, Solomon; a poor, friendless orphan. Another +might have turned him away from his door--I didn't; I hadn't the +heart to. I bespeak your sympathy for him." + +"Who is he?" asked Mahaffy. + +"Haven't I just told you?" said the judge reproachfully. Mahaffy +laughed. + +"You've told me something. Who is he?" + +"His name is Hannibal Wayne Hazard. Wait until he wakes up and +see if it isn't." + +"Sure he isn't kin to you?" said Mahaffy. + +"Not a drop of my blood flows in the veins of any living +creature," declared the judge with melancholy impressiveness. He +continued with deepening feeling, "All I shall leave to posterity +is my fame." + +"Speaking of posterity, which isn't present, Mr. Price, I'll say +it is embarrassed by the attention," observed Mahaffy. + +There was a long silence between them. Mr. Mahaffy drank, and +when he did not drink he bit his under lip and studied the judge. +This was always distressing to the latter gentleman. Mahaffy's +silence he could never penetrate. What was back of it--judgment, +criticism, disbelief--what? Or was it the silence of emptiness? +Was Mahaffy dumb merely because he could think of nothing to say, +or did his silence cloak his feelings-and what were his feelings? +Did his meditations outrun his habitually insulting speech as he +bit his under lip and glared at him? The judge always felt +impelled to talk at such times, while Mahaffy, by that silence of +his, seemed to weigh and condemn whatever he said. + +The moon had slipped below the horizon. Pleasantville had long +since gone to bed; it was only the judge's window that gave its +light to the blackness of the night. There was a hoofbeat on the +road. It came nearer and nearer, and presently sounded just +beyond the door. Then it ceased, and a voice said: + +"Hullo, there!" The judge scrambled to his feet, and taking up +the candle, stepped, or rather staggered, into the yard. Mahaffv +followed him. + +"What's wanted?" asked the judge, as he lurched up to horse and +rider, holding his candle aloft. The light showed a tail fellow +mounted on a handsome bay horse. It was Murrell. + +"Is there an inn hereabouts?" he asked. + +"You'll find one down the road a ways," said Mahaffy. The judge +said nothing. He was staring up at Murrell with drunken gravity. + +"Have either of you gentlemen seen a boy go through here to-day? +A boy about ten years old?" Murrell glanced from one to the +other. Mr. Mahaffy's thin lips twisted themselves into a +sarcastic smile. He turned to the judge, who spoke up quickly. + +"Did he carry a bundle and rifle?" he asked. Murrell gave eager +assent. + +"Well," said the judge, "he stopped here along about four o'clock +and asked his way to the nearest river landing." Murrell +gathered up his reins, and then that fixed stare of the judge's +seemed to arrest his attention. + +"You'll know me again," he observed. + +"Anywhere," said the judge. + +"I hope that's a satisfaction to you," said Murrell. + +"It ain't--none whatever," answered the judge promptly. "For I +don't value you--I don't value you that much!" and he snapped his +fingers to illustrate his meaning. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE ORATOR Or THE DAY + + +"Hanibal" the judge's voice and manner were rather stern. +"Hannibal, a man rode by here last night on a big bay horse. He +said he was looking for a boy about ten years old--a boy with a +bundle and rifle." There was an awful pause. Hannibal's heart +stood still for a brief instant, then it began to beat with +terrific thumps against his ribs. "Who was that man, Hannibal?" + +"I--please I don't know--" gasped the child. + +"Hannibal, who was that man?" repeated the judge. + +"It were Captain Murrell." The judge regarded him with a look of +great steadiness. He saw his small face go white, he saw the +look of abject terror in his eyes. The judge raised his fist and +brought it down with a great crash on the table, so that the +breakfast dishes leaped and rattled. "We don't know any boy ten +years old with a rifle and bundle!" he said. + +"Please--you won't let him take me away, judge I want to stop +with you!" cried Hannibal. He slipped from his chair, and +passing about the table, siezed the judge by the hand. The judge +was visibly affected. + +"No!" he roared, with a great oath. "He shan't have you--I'll +see him in the farthest corner of hell first! Is he kin to you?" + +"No," said Hannibal. + +"Took you to raise, did he--and abused you--infernal hypocrite!" +cried the judge with righteous wrath. + +"He tried to get me away from my Uncle Bob. He's been following +us since we crossed the mountains." + +"Where is your Uncle Bob?" + +"He's dead." And the child began to weep bitterly. Much +puzzled, the judge regarded him in silence for a moment, then +bent and lifted him into his lap. + +"There, my son--" he said soothingly. "Now you tell me when he +died, and all about it." + +"He were killed. It were only yesterday, and I can't forget him! +I don't want to--but it hurts--it hurts terrible!" Hannibal +buried his head in the judge's shoulder and sobbed aloud. +Presently his small hands stole about the judge's neck, and that +gentleman experienced a strange thrill of pleasure. + +"Tell me how he died, Hannibal," he urged gently. In a voice +broken by sobs the child began the story of their flight, a +confused narrative, which the judge followed with many a puzzled +shake of the head. But as he reached his climax--that cry he had +heard at the tavern, the men in the lane with their burden--he +became more and more coherent and his ideas clothed themselves in +words of dreadful simplicity and directness. The judge +shuddered. "Can such things be?" he murmured at last. + +"You won't let him take me?" + +"I never unsay my words," said the judge grandly. "With God's +help I'll be the instrument for their destruction." He frowned +with a preternatural severity. Eh--if he could turn a trick like +that, it would pull him up! There would be no more jeers and +laughter. + +What credit and standing it would give him! His thoughts slipped +along this fresh channel. What a prosecution he would conduct +--what a whirlwind of eloquence he would loose! He began to +breathe hard. His name should go from end to end of the state! +No man could be great without opportunity--for years he had known +this--but here was opportunity at last! Then he remembered what +Mahaffy had told him of the man on the raft. This Slosson's +tavern was probably on the upper waters of the Elk. Yancy had +been thrown in the river and had been picked up in a dying +condition. "Hannibal," be said, "Solomon Mahaffy, who was here +last night, told me he saw down at the river landing, a man who +had been fished up out of the Elk--a man who had been roughly +handled." + +"Were it my Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a swollen face to +his. + +"Dear lad, I don't know," said the judge sympathetically. "Some +people on a raft had picked him up out of the river. He was +unconscious and no one knew him. He was apparently a stranger in +these parts." + +"It were Uncle Bob! It were Uncle Bob--I know it were my Uncle +Bob! I must go find him!" and Hannibal slipped from the judge's +lap and ran for his rifle and bundle. + +"Stop a bit!" cried the judge. "He was taken on past here, and +he was badly injured. Now, if it was your Uncle Bob, he'll come +back the moment he is able to travel. Meantime, you must remain +under my protection while we investigate this man Slosson." + +But alas--that thoroughfare which is supposed to be paved +exclusively with good resolutions, had benefited greatly by +Slocum Price's labors in the past, and he was destined to toil +still in its up-keep. He borrowed the child's money and spent +it, and if any sense of shame smote his torpid conscience, he hid +it manfully. Not so Mr. Mahaffy; for while he profited by his +friend's act, he told that gentleman just what he thought of him +with insulting candor. On the eighth day there was sobriety for +the pair. Deep gloom visited Mr. Mahaffy, and the judge was a +prey to melancholy. + +It was Saturday, and in Pleasantville a jail-raising was in +progress. During all the years of its corporate dignity the +village had never boasted any building where the evil-doer could +be placed under restraint; hence had arisen its peculiar habit of +dealing with crime; but a leading citizen had donated half an +acre of ground lying midway between the town and the river +landing as a site for the proposed structure, and the scattered +population of the region had assembled for the raising. Nor was +Pleasantville unprepared to make immediate use of the jail, since +the sheriff had in custody a free negro who had knifed another +free negro and was awaiting trial at the next term of court. + +"We don't want to get there too early," explained the judge, as +they quitted the cabin. "We want to miss the work, but be on +hand for the celebration." + +"I suppose we may confidently look to you to favor us with a few +eloquent words?" said Mr. Mahaffy. + +"And why not, Solomon?" asked the judge. + +"Why not, indeed!" echoed Mr. Mahaffy. + +The opportunity he craved was not denied him. The crowd was like +most southwestern crowds of the period, and no sooner did the +judge appear than there were clamorous demands for a speech. He +cast a glance of triumph at Mahaffy, and nimbly mounted a +convenient stump. He extolled the climate of middle Tennessee, +the unsurpassed fertility of the soil; he touched on the future +that awaited Pleasantville; he apostrophized the jail; this +simple structure of logs in the shadow of the primeval woods was +significant of their love of justice and order; it was a suitable +place for the detention of a citizen of a great republic; it was +no mediaeval dungeon, but a forest-embowered retreat where, +barring mosquitoes and malaria, the party under restraint would +be put to no needless hardship; he would have the occasional +companionship of the gentlemanly sheriff; his friends, with such +wise and proper restrictions as the law saw fit to impose, could +come and impart the news of the day to him through the chinks of +the logs. + +"I understand you have dealt in a hasty fashion with one or two +horse-thieves," he continued. "Also with a gambler who was put +ashore here from a river packet and subsequently became involved +in a dispute with a late citizen of this place touching the +number of aces in a pack of cards. It is not for me to +criticize! What I may term the spontaneous love of justice is +the brightest heritage of a free people. It is this same +commendable ability to acquit ourselves of our obligations that +is making us the wonder of the world! But don't let us forget +the law--of which it is an axiom, that it is not the severity of +punishment, but the certainty of it, that holds the wrong-doer in +check! With this safe and commodious asylum the plow line can +remain the exclusive aid to agriculture. If a man murders, curb +your natural impulse! Give him a fair trial, with eminent +counsel!" The judge tried not to look self-conscious when he +said this. "If he is found guilty, I still say, don't lynch him! +Why? Because by your hasty act you deny the public the elevating +and improving spectacle of a legal execution!" When the applause +had died out, a lank countryman craning his neck for a sight of +the sheriff, bawled out over the heads of the crowd: + +"Where's your nigger? We want to put him in here!" + +"I reckon he's gone fishin'. I never seen the beat of that +nigger to go fishin'," said the sheriff. + +"Whoop! Ain't you goin' to put him in here?" yelled the +countryman. + +"It's a mighty lonely spot for a nigger," said the sheriff +doubtingly. + +"Lonely? Well, suppose he ups and lopes out of this?" + +"You don't know that nigger," rejoined the sheriff warmly. "He +ain't missed a meal since I had him in custody. Just as regular +as the clock strikes he's at the back door. Good habits--why, +that darky is a lesson to most white folks!" + +"I don't care a cuss about that nigger, but what's the use of +building a jail if a body ain't goin' to use it?" + +"Well, there's some sense in that," agreed the sheriff. + +"There's a whole heap of sense in it!" + +"I suggest"--the speaker was a young lawyer from the next county +--"I suggest that a committee be appointed to wait on the nigger +at the steamboat landing and acquaint him with the fact that with +his assistance we wish completely to furnish the jail." + +"I protest--" cried the judge. "I protest--" he repeated +vigorously. "Pride of race forbids that I should be a party to +the degradation of the best of civilization! Is your jail to be +christened to its high office by a nigger? Is this to be the +law's apotheosis? No, sir! No nigger is worthy the honor of +being the first prisoner here!" This was a new and striking +idea. The crowd regarded the judge admiringly. Certainly here +was a man of refined feeling. + +"That's just the way I feel about it," said the sheriff. "If I'd +athought there was any call for him I wouldn't have let him go +fishing, I'd have kept him about." + +"Oh, let the nigger fish--he has powerful luck. What's he usin', +Sheriff; worms or minnies?" + +"Worms," said the sheriff shortly. + +Presently the crowd drifted away in the direction of the tavern. +Hannibal meantime had gone down to the river. He haunted its +banks as though he expected to see his Uncle Bob appear any +moment. The judge and Mahaffy had mingled with the others in the +hope of free drinks, but in this hope there lurked the germ of a +bitter disappointment. There was plenty of drinking, but they +were not invited to join in this pleasing rite, and after a +period of great mental anguish Mahaffy parted with the last stray +coin in the pocket of his respectable black trousers, and while +his flask was being filled the judge indulged in certain winsome +gallantries with the fat landlady. + +"La, Judge Price, how you do run on!" she said with a coquettish +toss of her curls. + +"That's the charm of you, ma'am," said the judge. He leaned +across the bar and, sinking his voice to a husky whisper, asked, +"Would it be perfectly convenient for you to extend me a limited +credit?" + +"Now, Judge Price, you know a heap better than to ask me that!" +she answered, shaking her head. + +"No offense, ma'am," said the judge, hiding his disappointment, +and with Mahaffy he quitted the bar. + +"Why don't you marry the old girl? You could drink yourself to +death in six months," said Mahaffy. "That would be a speculation +worth while--and while you live you could fondle those curls!" + +"Maybe I'll be forced to it yet," responded the judge with gloomy +pessimism. + +With the filling of Mahaffy's flask the important event of the +day was past, and both knew it was likely to retain its +preeminence for a terrible and indefinite period; a thought that +enriched their thirst as it increased their gravity while they +were traversing the stretch of dusty road that lay between the +cavern and the judge's shanty. When they had settled themselves +in their chairs before the door, Mahaffy, who was notably jealous +of his privileges, drew the cork from the flask and took the +first pull at its contents. The judge counted the swallows as +registered by that useful portion of Mahaffy's anatomy known as +his Adam's apple. After a breathless interval, Mahaffy detached +himself from the flask and civilly passing the cuff of his coat +about its neck, handed it over to the judge. In the unbroken +silence that succeeded the flask passed swiftly from hand to +hand, at length Mahaffy held it up to the light. It was +two-thirds empty, and a sigh stole from between his thin lips. +The judge reached out a tremulous hand. He was only too familiar +with his friend's distressing peculiarities. + +"Not yet!" he begged thickly. + +"Why not?" demanded Mahaffy fiercely. "Is it your liquor or +mine?" He quitted his chair end stalked to the well where he +filled the flask with water. Infinitely disgusted, the judge +watched the sacrilege. Mahaffy resumed his chair and again the +flask went its rounds. + +"It ain't so bad," said the judge after a time, but with a +noticeable lack of enthusiasm. + +"Were you in shape to put anything better than water into it, Mr. +Price?" The judge winced. He always winced at that "Mr." + +"Well, I wouldn't serve myself such a trick as that," he said +with decision. "When I take liquor, it's one thing; and when I +want water, it's another." + +"It is, indeed," agreed Mahaffy. + +"I drink as much clear water as is good for a man of my +constitution," said the judge combatively. "My talents are +wasted here," he resumed, after a little pause. "I've brought +them the blessings of the law, but what does it signify!" + +"Why did you ever come here?" Mahaffy spoke sharply. + +"I might ask the same question of you, and in the same offensive +tone," said the judge. + +"May I ask, not wishing to take a liberty, were you always the +same old pauper you've been since I've known you?" inquired +Mahaffy. The judge maintained a stony silence. + +The heat deepened in the heart of the afternoon. The sun, a ball +of fire, slipped back of the tree-tops. Thick shadows stole +across the stretch of dusty road. Off in the distance there was +the sound of cowbell. Slowly these came nearer and nearer--as +the golden light slanted, sifting deeper and deeper into the +woods. + +They could see the crowd that came and went about the tavern, +they caught the distant echo of its mirth. + +"Common--quite common," said the judge with somber melancholy. + +"I didn't see anything common," said Mahaffy sourly. "The drinks +weren't common by a long sight." + +"I referred to the gathering in its social aspect, Solomon," +explained the judge; "the illiberal spirit that prevailed, which, +I observe, did not escape you." + +"Skunks!" said Mahaffy. + +"Not a man present had the public spirit to set 'em up," lamented +the judge. "They drank in pairs, and I'd blistered my throat at +their damn jail-raising! What sort of a fizzle would it have +been if I hadn't been on hand to impart distinction to the +occasion ?" + +"I don't begrudge 'em their liquor," said Mahaffy with acid +dignity. + +"I do," interrupted the judge. "I hope it's poison to 'em. + +"It will be in the long run, if it's any comfort to you to know +it." + +"It's no comfort, it's not near quick enough," said the judge +relentlessly. The sudden noisy clamor of many voices, +highpitched and excited, floated out to them under the hot sky. +"I wonder--" began the judge, and paused as he saw the crowd +stream into the road before the tavern. Then a cloud of dust +enveloped it, a cloud of dust that came from the trampling of +many pairs of feet, and that swept toward them, thick and +impenetrable, and no higher than a tall man's head in the +lifeless air. "I wonder if we missed anything" continued the +judge, finishing what he had started to say. + +The score or more of men were quite near, and the judge and +Mahaffy made out the tall figure of the sheriff in the lead. And +then the crowd, very excited, very dusty, very noisy and very +hot, flowed into the judge's front yard. For a brief moment that +gentleman fancied Pleasantville had awakened to a fitting sense +of its obligation to him and that it was about to make amends for +its churlish lack of hospitality. He rose from his chair, and +with a splendid florid gesture, swept off his hat. + +"It's the pussy fellow!" cried a voice. + +"Oh, shut up--don't you think I know him?" retorted the sheriff +tartly. + +"Gentlemen--" began the judge blandly. + +"Get the well-rope!" + +The judge was rather at loss properly to interpret these varied +remarks. He was not long left in doubt. The sheriff stepped to +his side and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"Mr. Slocum Price, or whatever your name is, your little game is +up!" + +"Get the well-rope! Oh, hell--won't some one get the well-rope?" +The voice rose into a wail of entreaty. + +The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets. +Clearly something was wrong--but what--what? + +"Ain't he bold?" it was a woman's voice this time, and the fat +landlady, her curls awry and her plump breast heaving +tumultuously, gained a place in the forefront of the crowd. + +"Dear madam, this is an unexpected pleasure!" said the judge, +with his hand upon his heart. + +"Don't you make your wicked old sheep's eyes at me, you brazen +thing!" cried the lady. + +"You're wanted," said the sheriff grimly, still keeping his hand +on the judge's shoulder. + +"For what?" demanded the judge thickly. The sheriff had no time +in which to answer. + +"I want my money!" shrieked the landlady. + +"Your money--Mrs. Walker, you amaze me!" The judge drew himself +up haughtily, in genuine astonishment. + +"I want my money!" repeated Mrs. Walker in even more piercing +tones. + +"I am not aware that I owe you anything, madam. Thank God, I +hold your receipted bill of recent date," answered the judge with +chilling dignity. + +"Good money--not this worthless trash!" she shook a bill under +his nose. The judge recognized it as the one of which he had +despoiled Hannibal. + +"You have been catched passing counterfeit," said the sheriff. A +light broke on the judge, a light that dazzled and stunned. An +officious and impatient gentleman tossed a looped end of the +well-rope about his neck and the crowd yelled excitedly. This +was something like--it had a taste for the man-hunt! The sheriff +snatched away the rope and dealt the officious gentleman a savage +blow on the chin that sent him staggering backward into the arms +of his friends. + +"Now, see here, now--I'm going to arrest this old faller! I am +going to put him in jail, and I ain't going to have no nonsense +--do you hear me?" he expostulated. + +"I can explain--" cried the judge. + +"Make him give me my money!" wailed Mrs Walker. + +"Jezebel!" roared the judge, in a passion of rage. + +"Ca'm's the word, or you'll get 'em started!" whispered the +sheriff. The judge looked fearfully around. At his side stood +Mahaffy, a yellow pallor splotching his thin cheeks. He seemed +to be holding himself there by an effort. + +"Speak to them, Solomon--speak to them--you know how I came by +the money! Speak to them--you know I am innocent!" cried the +judge, clutching his friend by the arm. Mahaffy opened his thin +lips, but the crowd drowned his voice in a roar. + +"He's his "partner--" + +"There's no evidence against him," said the sheriff. + +A tall fellow, in a fringed hunting-shirt, shook a long finger +under Mahaffy's aquiline nose. + +"You scoot--that's what--you make tracks! And if we ever see +your ugly face about here again, we'll--" + +"You'll what?" inquired Mahaffy. + +"We'll fix you out with feathers that won't molt, that's what!" + +Mr. Mahaffy seemed to hesitate. His lean hands opened and +closed, and he met the eyes of the crowd with a bitter, venomous +stare. Some one gave him a shove and he staggered forward a +step, snapping out a curse. Before he could recover himself the +shove was repeated. + +"Lope on out of here!" yelled the tall fellow, who had first +challenged his right to remain in Pleasantville or its environs. +As the crowd fell apart to make way for him, willing hands were +extended to give him the needed impetus, and without special +volition of his own, + +Mahaffy was hurried toward the road. His hat was knocked flat on +his head--he turned with an angry snarl, the very embodiment of +hate--but again he was thrust forward. And then, somehow, his +walk became a run and the crowd started after him with delighted +whoopings. Once more, and for the last time, he faced about, +giving the judge a hopeless, despairing glance. His tormentors +were snatching up sods and stones and he had no choice. He +turned, his long strides taking him swiftly over the ground, with +the air full of missiles at his back. + +Before he had gone a hundred yards he abandoned the road and, +turning off across an unfenced field, ran toward the woods and +swampy bottom. Twenty men were in chase behind him. The +judge was the sheriff's prisoner--that official had settled that point +--but Mr. Mahaffy was common property, it was his cruel privilege +to furnish excitement; his keen rage was almost equal to the fear +that urged him on. Then the woods closed about him. His long +legs, working tirelessly, carried him over fallen logs and +through tai. tangeled thickets, the voices behind him growing +more and more distant as he ran. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FAMILY ON THE RAFT + + +That would unquestionably have been the end of Bob Yancy when he +was shot out into the muddy waters of the Elk River, had not Mr. +Richard Keppel Cavendish, variously known as Long-Legged Dick, +and Chills-and-Fever Cavendish, of Lincoln County, in the state +of Tennessee, some months previously and after unprecedented +mental effort on his part, decided that Lincoln County was no +place for him. When he had established this idea firmly in his +own mind and in the mind of Polly, his wife, he set about solving +the problem of transportation. + +Mr. Cavendish's paternal grandparent had drifted down the Holston +and Tennessee; and Mr. Cavendish's father, in his son's youth, +had poled up the Elk. Mr. Cavendish now determined to float down +the Elk to its juncture with the Tennessee, down the Tennessee to +the Ohio, and if need be, down the Ohio to the Mississippi, and +keep drifting until he found some spot exactly suited to his +taste. Temperamentally, he was well adapted to drifting. No +conception of vicarious activity could have been more congenial. + +With this end in view he had toiled through late winter and early +spring, building himself a raft on which to transport his few +belongings and his numerous family; there were six little +Cavendishes, and they ranged in years from four to eleven; there +was in addition the baby, who was always enumerated separately. +This particular infant Mr. Cavendish said he wouldn't take a +million dollars for. He usually added feelingly that he wouldn't +give a piece of chalk for another one. + +June found him aboard his raft with all his earthly possessions +bestowed about him, awaiting the rains and freshets that were to +waft him effortless into a newer country where he should have a +white man's chance. At last the rains came, and he cast off from +the bank at that unsalubrious spot where his father had elected +to build his cabin on a strip of level bottom subject to periodic +inundation. Wishing fully to profit by the floods and reach the +big water without delay, Cavendish ran the raft twenty-four hours +at a stretch, sleeping by day while Polly managed the great +sweep, only calling him when some dangerous bit of the river was +to be navigated. Thus it happened that as Murrell and Slosson +were dragging Yancy down the lane, Cavendish was just rounding a +bend in the Elk, a quarter of a mile distant. Leaning loosely +against the long handle of his sweep, he was watching the lane of +bright water that ran between the black shadows cast by the trees +on either bank. He was in shirt and trousers, barefoot and +bareheaded, and his face, mild and contemplative, wore an +expression of dreamy contentment. + +Suddenly its expression changed. He became alert and watchful. +He had heard a dull splash. Thinking that some tree had been +swept into the flood, he sought to pierce the darkness that lay +along the shore. Five or six minutes passed as the raft glided +along without sound. He was about to relapse into his former +attitude of listless ease when he caught sight of some object in +the eddy that swept alongside. Mr. Cavendish promptly detached +himself from the handle of the sweep and ran to the edge of the +raft. + +"Good Lord--what's that!" he gasped, but he already knew it was a +face, livid and blood-streaked. Dropping on his knees he reached +out a pair of long arms and made a dexterous grab, and his +fingers closed on the collar of Yancy's shirt. "Neighbor, I +certainly have got you!" said Cavendish, between his teeth. He +drew Yancy close alongside the raft, and, slipping a hand under +each arm, pulled him clear of the water. The swift current swept +the raft on down the stream. It rode fairly in the center of the +lane of light, but no eye had observed its passing. Mr. +Cavendish stood erect and stared down at the blood-stained face, +then he dropped on his knees again and began a hurried +examination of the still figure. "There's a little life here +--not much, but some--you was well worth fishing up!" be said +approvingly, after a brief interval. "Polly!" he called, raising +his voice. + +This brought Mrs. Cavendish from one of the two cabins that +occupied the center of the raft. She was a young woman, still +very comely, though of a matronly plumpness. She was in her +nightgown, and when she caught sight of Yancy she uttered a +shriek and fled back into the shanty. + +"I declare, Dick, you might ha' told a body you wa'n't alone!" +she said reproachfully. + +Her cry had aroused the other denizens of the raft. The tow +heads of the six little Cavendishes rose promptly from a long +bolster in the smaller of the two shanties, and as promptly six +little Cavendishes, each draped in a single non-committal +garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not at all according +to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth from their +shelter. + +"Sho', Polly, he's senseless! But you dress and come here quick. +Now, you young folks, don't you tetch him!" for the six small +Cavendishes, excited beyond measure, were crowding and shoving +for a nearer sight of Yancy. They began to pelt their father +with questions. Who was it? Sho', in the river? Sho', all cut +up like that--who'd cut him? Had he hurt himself? Was he +throwed in? When did pop fish him out? Was he dead? Why did he +lay like that and not move or speak--sho'! This and much more +was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager +questioner seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his +shirt, or his trousers--they clutched him from all sides. "I +never seen such a family!" said Mr. Cavendish helplessly. "Now, +you-all shut up, or I 'low I'll lay into you!" + +Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor. +The six rushed on her tumultously. They seized her hands or +struggled for a fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured +out their tale. Pop had fished up a man--he'd been throwed in +the river! Pop didn't know if he was dead or not--he was all cut +and bloody + +"I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still! +Miss Constance," Polly addressed her eldest child, "I'm surprised +at you! You might be a heathen savage for all you got on your +back--get into some duds this instant!" Cavendish was on his +knees again beside Yancy, and Polly, by a determined effort, rid +herself of the children. "Why, he's a grand-looking man, ain't +he?" she cried. "La, what a pity!" + +"You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some," said +Cavendish. + +"Let me see--just barely flutters, don't it? Henry, go mind the +sweep and see we don't get aground! Keppel, you start a fire and +warm some water! Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for +bandagesnow, stir around, all of you!" And then began a period +of breathless activity. They first lifted Yancy into the circle +of illumination cast by the fire Keppel had started on the hearth +of flat stones before the shanties. Then, with Constance to hold +a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly bathed the gaping +wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his knife. +This she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat. Next she +began on the ragged cut left by Slosson's club. + +"He's got a right to be dead!" said Cavendish. + +"Get the shears, Dick--I must snip away some of his hair." + +All this while the four half-naked youngest Cavendishes, very +still now, stood about the stone hearth in the chill dawn and +watched their mother's surgery with a breathless interest. Only +the outcast Henry at the sweep ever and anon lifted his voice +between sobs of mingled rage and disappointment, and demanded +what was doing. + +"Think he is going to die, Polly?" whispered Cavendish at length. +Their heads, hers very black and glossy, his very blond, were +close together as they bent above the injured man. + +"I never say a body's going to die until he's dead," said Polly. +"He's still breathing, and a Christian has got to do what they +can. Don't you think you ought to tie up?" + +"The freshet's leaving us. I'll run until we hit the big water +down by Pleasantville, and then tie up," said Cavendish. + +"I reckon we'd better lift him on to one of the beds--get his wet +clothes off and wrap him up warm," said Polly. + +"Oh, put him in our bed!" cried all the little Cavendishes. + +And Yancy was borne into the smaller of the two shanties, where +presently his bandaged head rested on the long communal pillow. +Then his wet clothes were hung up to dry along with a portion of +the family wash which fluttered on a rope stretched between the +two shanties. + +The raft had all the appearance of a cabin dooryard. There was, +in addition to the two shelters of bark built over a light +framework of poles, a pen which housed a highly domestic family +of pigs, while half a dozen chickens enjoyed a restricted +liberty. With Yancy disposed of, the regular family life was +resumed. It was sun-up now. The little Cavendishes, reluctant +but overpersuaded, had their faces washed alongside and were +dressed by Connie, while Mrs. Cavendish performed the same +offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which Mr. +Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off +to sleep, he played with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in +full command of her floating dooryard. She smoked a reflective +pipe, watching the river between puffs, and occasionally lending +a hand at the sweeps. Later the family wash engaged her. It had +neither beginning nor end, but serialized itself from day to day. +Connie was already proficient at the tubs. It was a knack she +was in no danger of losing. + +Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three +smaller children began to manifest a love for the water they had +not seemed to possess earlier in the day. They played along the +edge of the raft, always in imminent danger of falling in, always +being called back, or seized, just in time to prevent a +catastrophe. This ceaseless activity on their part earned them +much in the way of cuffings, chastisements which Mrs. Cavendish +administered with no great spirit. + +"Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of +posterin' a body 'most to death!" she demanded at length, and +they stole off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy. Presently Richard +ran to his mother's side. + +"Come quick--he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!" he +cried. It wƒs as the child said. Yancy had roused from his +heavy stupor. Words almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were +issuing from his lips and there was a restless movement of his +head on the pillow. + +"He 'pears powerful distressed about something," said Mrs. +Cavendish. "I reckon I'd better give him a little stimulant +now." + +While she was gone for the whisky, Connie, who had squatted down +beside the bed, touched Yancy's hand which lay open. Instantly +his fingers closed about hers and he was silent; the movement of +his head ceased abruptly; but when she sought to withdraw her +hand he began to murmur again. + +"I declare, what he wants is some one to sit beside him!" said +Mrs. Cavendish, who had returned with the whisky, a few drops of +which she managed to force between Yancy's lips. All the rest of +that day some one of the children sat beside the wounded man, who +was quiet and satisfied just as long as there was a small hand +for him to hold. + +"He must be a family man," observed Mr. Cavendish when Polly told +him of this. "We'll tie up at Pleasantville landing and learn +who he is." + +"He had ought to have a doctor to look at them cuts of his," said +Mrs. Cavendish. + +It was late afternoon when the landing was reached. Half a score +of men were loafing about the woodyard on shore. Mr. Cavendish +made fast to a blasted tree, then he climbed the bank; the men +regarding him incuriously as he approached. + +"Howdy," said Cavendish genially. + +"Howdy," they answered. + +"Where might I find the nearest doctor?" inquired Cavendish. + +"Within about six foot of you," said one of the group. + +"Meaning yourself?" + +"Meaning myself." + +Briefly Cavendish told the story of Yancy's rescue. + +"Now, Doc, I want you should cast an eye over the way we've +dressed his cuts, and I want the rest of you to come and take a +look at him and tell who he is and where he belongs," he said in +conclusion. + +"I'll know him if he belongs within forty miles of here in any +direction," said the doctor. But he shook his head when his eye +rested on Yancy. "Never saw him," he said briefly. + +"How about them bandages, Doc?" demanded Cavendish. + +"Oh, I reckon they'll do," replied the doctor indifferently. + +"Will he live?" + +"I can't say. You'll know all about that inside the next +forty-eight hours. Better let the rest have a look." + +"Just feel of them bandages--sho', I got money in my pants!" Mr. +Cavendish was rapidly losing his temper, yet he controlled +himself until each man had taken a look at Yancy; but always with +the same result--a shake of the head. "I reckon I can leave him +here?" Cavendish asked, when the last man had looked and turned +away. + +"Leave him here--why?" demanded the doctor slowly. + +"Because I'm going on, that's why. I'm headed for downstream, +and he ain't in any sort of shape to say whether he wants to go +or stop," explained Cavendish. + +"You picked him up, didn't you?" asked one of the men. + +"I certainly did," said Cavendish. + +"Well, I reckon if you're so anxious for him to stay hereabout, +you'd better stop, yourself," said the owner of the woodyard. +"There ain't a house within two miles of here but mine, and he +don't go there!" + +"You're a healthy lot, you are!" said Cavendish. "I wonder your +largeness of heart ain't ruptured your wishbones long ago!" So +saying, he retired to the stern of his raft and leaned against +the sweep-handle, apparently lost in thought. His visitors +climbed the bank and reestablished themselves on the wood-ranks. + +Presently Mr. Cavendish lifted his voice and addressed Polly and +the six little Cavendishes at the other end of the raft. He +asserted that he was the only well-born man within a radius of +perhaps a hundred miles--he excepted no one. He knew who his +father and mother were, and they had been legally married--he +seemed to infer that this was not always the case. Mr. Cavendish +glanced toward the shore, then he lifted his voice again, giving +it as his opinion that he was the only Christian seen in those +parts in the last fifty years. He offered to fight any gentleman +who felt disposed to challenge this assertion. He sprang +suddenly aloft, knocked his bare heels together and uttered an +ear-piercing whoop. He subsided and gazed off into the red eye +of the sun which was slipping back of the trees. Presently he +spoke again. He offered to lick any gentleman who felt aggrieved +by his previous remarks, for fifty cents, for a drink of whisky, +for a chew of tobacco, for nothing--with one hand tied behind +him! He sprang aloft, cracked his heels together as before and +crowed insultingly; then he subsided into silence. An instant +later he appeared stung by the acutest pangs of remorse. In a +cringing tone he begged Polly to forgive him for bringing her to +such a place. He bewailed that they had risked pollution by +allowing any inhabitant of that region to set foot on the +raft--he feared for the innocent minds of their children, and he +implored her pardon. Perhaps it was better that they should cast +off at once--unless one of the gentlemen on shore felt himself +insulted, in which event he would remain to fight. + +Then as he slowly worked the raft out toward the middle of the +stream, he repeated all his former remarks, punctuating them with +frequent whoops. He recapitulated the terms on which he could be +induced to fight-fifty cents, a drink of liquor, a chew of +tobacco, nothing! His shouts became fainter and fainter as the +raft was swept down-stream, and finally died away in the +distance. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE JUDGE BREAKS JAIL + + +The sheriff had brought the judge's supper. He reported that the +crowd was dispersing, and that on the whole public sentiment was +not particularly hostile; indeed, he went so far as to say there +existed a strong undercurrent of satisfaction that the jail +should have so speedily justified itself. Moreover, there was a +disposition to exalt the judge as having furnished the crowning +touch to the day's pleasure. + +"I reckon, sir, they'd have felt obliged to string you up if +there wa'n't no jail," continued the sheriff lazily from the open +door where he had seated himself. "I don't say there ain't them +who don't maintain you had ought to be strung up as it is, but +people are funny, sir; the majority talk like they might wish to +keep you here indefinite. There's no telling when we'll get +another prisoner. Tomorrow the blacksmith will fix some iron +bars to your window so folks can look in and see you. It will +give a heap more air to the place--" + +"Unless I do get more air, you will not be troubled long by me!" +declared the judge in a tone of melancholy conviction. + +The building was intolerably hot, the advantages of ventilation +having been a thing the citizens of Pleasantville had overlooked. +But the judge was a reasonable soul; he was disposed to accept +his immediate personal discomfort with a fine true philosophy; +also, hope was stirring in his heart. Hope was second nature +with him, for had he not lived all these years with the odds +against him? + +"You do sweat some, don't you? Oh, well, a man can stand a right +smart suffering from heat like this and not die. It's the sun +that's dangerous," remarked the sheriff consolingly. "And you +had ought to suffer, sir! that's what folks are sent to jail +for," he added. + +"You will kindly bear in mind, sir, that I have been convicted of +no crime!" retorted the judge. + +"If you hadn't been so blamed particular you might have had +company; politest darky you would meet anywhere. Well, sir, I +didn't think the boss orator of the day would be the first +prisoner--the joke certainly is on you!" + +"I never saw such bloody-minded ruffians! Keep them out and keep +me in--all I ask is to vindicate myself in the eyes of the +world," said the judge. + +"Well," began the sheriff severely, "ain't it enough to make 'em +bloody-minded? Any one of 'em might have taken your money and +got stuck. Just to think of that is what hets them up." He +regarded the judge with a glance of displeasure. "I hate to see +a man so durn unreasonable in his p'int of view. And you picked +a lady--a widow-lady--say, ain't you ashamed?" + +"Well, sir, what's going to happen to me?" demanded the judge +angrily. + +"I reckon you'll be tried. I reckon the law will deal with you +--that is, if the public remains ca'm. Maybe it will come to the +conclusion that it'd prefer a lynching--people are funny." He +seemed to detach himself from the possible current of events. + +"And, waking and sleeping, I have that before me!" cried the +judge bitterly. + +"You had ought to have thought of that sooner, when you was +unloading that money. Why, it ain't even good counterfeit! I +wonder a man of your years wa'n't slicker." + +"Have you taken steps to find the boy, or Solomon Mahaffy?" +inquired the judge. + +"For what?" + +"How is my innocence going to be established--how am I going to +clear myself if my witnesses are hounded out of the county?" + +"I love to hear you talk, sir. I told 'em at the raising to-day +that I considered you one of the most eloquent minds I had ever +listened to--but naturally, sir, you are too smart to be honest. +You say you ain't been convicted yet; but you're going to be! +There's quite a scramble for places on the jury already. There +was pistols drawed up at the tavern by some of our best people, +sir, who got het up disputin' who was eligible to serve." The +judge groaned. "You should be thankful them pistols wasn't +drawed on you, sir," said the sheriff amiably. "You've got a +heap to be grateful about; for we've had one lynching, and we've +rid one or two parties on a rail after giving 'em a coat of tar +and feathers." + +The judge shuddered. The sheriff continued placidly: + +"I'll take it you'll get all that's coming to you, sirsay about +twenty years--that had ought to let you out easy. Sort of round +out your earthly career, and leave something due you t'other side +of Jordan." + +"I suppose there is no use in my pointing out to you that I did +not know the money was counterfeit, and that I was quite innocent +of any intention to defraud Mrs. Walker?" said the judge, with a +weary, exasperated air. + +"It don't make no difference where you got the money; you know +that, for you set up to be some sort of a lawyer." + +Presently the sheriff went his way into the dusk of the evening, +and night came swiftly to fellowship the judge's fears. A single +moonbeam found its way into the place, making a thin rift in the +darkness. The judge sat down on the three-legged stool, which, +with a shake-down bed, furnished the jail. His loneliness was a +great wave of misery that engulfed him. + +"Well, just so my life ain't cut short!" he whispered. + +He had known a varied career, and what he was pleased to call his +unparalleled misfortunes had reduced him to all kinds of +desperate shifts to live, but never before had the law laid its +hands on him. True, there had been times and seasons when he had +been grateful for the gloom of the dark ways he trod, for echoes +had taken the place of the living voice that had once spoken to +his soul; but he could still rest his hand upon his heart and say +that the law had always nodded to him to pass on. + +Where was Solomon Mahaffy, and where Hannibal? He felt that +Mahaffy could fend for himself, but he experienced a moment of +genuine concern when he thought of the child. In spite of +himself, his thoughts returned to him again and again. But +surely some one would shelter and care for him! + +"Yes--and work him like a horse, and probably abuse him into the +bargain--" + +Then there was a scarcely audible rustle on the margin of the +woods, a dry branch snapped loudly. A little pause succeeded in +which the judge's heart stood still. Next a stealthy step +sounded in the clearing. The judge had an agonized vision of +regulators and lynchers. The beat of his pulse quickened. He +knew something of the boisterous horseplay of the frontier. The +sheriff had spoken of tar and feathers--very quietly he stood +erect and picked up the stool. + +"Heaven helping me, I'll brain a citizen or two before it comes +to that!" he told himself. + +The cautious steps continued to approach. Some one paused below +the closely shuttered window, and a hand struck the boards +sharply. A whisper stole into the jail. + +"Are you awake, Price?" It was Mahaffy who spoke. + +"God bless you, Solomon Mahaffy!" cried the judge unsteadily. + +"I've got the boy--he's with me," said Mahaffy. + +"God bless you both!" repeated the judge brokenly. "Take care of +him, Solomon. I feel better now, knowing he's in good hands." + +"Please, Judge--" it was Hannibal + +"Yes, dear lad?" + +"I'm mighty sorry that ten dollars I loaned you was bad--but you +don't need ever to pay it back!" + +Mahaffy gave way to mirth. + +"Never mind!" said the judge indulgently. "It performed all the +essential functions of a perfectly legal currency. Just suppose +we had discovered it was counterfeit before I took it to the +tavern--that would have been a hardship!" + +"It were Captain Murrell gave it to me," explained Hannibal. + +"I consecrate myself to his destruction! Judge Slocum Price can +not be humiliated with impunity!" + +"I should think you would save your wind, Price, until you'd +waddled out of danger!" Mahaffy spoke, gruffly. + +"How are you going to get me out of this, Solomon--for I suppose +you are here to break jail for me," said the judge. + +Mahaffy inspected the building. He found that the door was +secured by two ponderous hasps to which were fitted heavy +padlocks, but the solid wooden shutter which closed the square +hole in the gable that served as a window was fastened by a hasp +and peg. He withdrew the peg, opened the shutter, and the +judge's face, wreathed in smiles, appeared at the aperture. + +"The blessed sky and air!" he murmured, breathing deep. "A week +of this would have broken my spirit!" + +"If you can, Price, you'd better come feet first," suggested +Mahaffy. + +"Not sufficiently acrobatic, Solomon--it's heads or I lose!" said +the judge. + +He thrust his shoulders into the opening and wriggled outward. +Suddenly his forward movement was arrested. + +"I was afraid of that!" he said, with a rather piteous smile. +"It's my stomach, Solomon!" Mahaffy seized him by the shoulders +with lean muscular hands. "Pull!" cried the judge hoarsely. +But Mahaffy's vigorous efforts failed to move him. + +"I guess you're stuck, Price!" + +"Get your wind, Solomon," urged the judge, "and then, if Hannibal +will reach up and work about my middle with his knuckles while +you pull, I may get through." But even this expedient failed. + +"Do you reckon you can get me back? I should not care to spend +the night so!" said the judge. He was purple and panting. + +"Let's try you edgewise!" And Mahaffy pushed the judge into the +jail again. + +"No," said the judge, after another period of resolute effort on +his part and on the part of Mahaffy. "Providence has been kind +to me in the past, but it's clear she didn't have me in mind when +they cut this hole." + +"Well, Price, I guess all we can do is to go back to town and see +if I can get into my cabin--I've got an old saw there. If I can +find it, I can come again to-morrow night and cut away one of the +logs, or the cleats of the door." + +"In Heaven's name, do that to-night, Solomon!" implored the +judge. "Why procrastinate?" + +"Price, there's a pack of dogs in this neighborhood, and we must +have a full night to move in, or they'll pull us down before +we've gone ten miles!" + +The judge groaned. + +"You're right, Solomon; I'd forgotten the dogs," and he groaned +again. + +Mahaffy closed and fastened the shutter, then he and Hannibal +stole across the clearing and entered the woods. The judge flung +off his clothes and went to bed, determined to sleep away as many +hours as possible. He was only aroused by the arrival of his +breakfast, which the sheriff brought about eight o'clock. + +"Well, if I was in your boots I couldn't sleep like you!" +remarked that official admiringly. "But I reckon, sir, this +ain't the first time the penitentiary has stared you in the +face." + +"Then you reckon wrong," said the judge sententiously, as he +hauled on his trousers. + +"No?--you needn't hurry none. I'll get them dishes when I fetch +your dinner," he added, as he took his leave. + +A little later the blacksmith appeared and fitted three iron bars +to the window. + +"I reckon that'll hold you, old feller!" he observed pleasantly. + +He was disposed to linger, since he was interested in the +mechanical means employed in the making of counterfeit money and +thirsted for knowledge at first hand. Also, he had in his +possession a one-dollar bill which had come to him in the way of +trade and which local experts had declared to be a spurious +production. He passed it in between the bars and demanded the +judge's opinion of it as though he were the first authority in +the land. But he went no wiser than he came. + +It was nearing the noon hour when the judge's solitude was again +invaded. He first heard the distant murmur of voices on the road +and passed an uneasy and restless ten minutes, with his eye to a +crack in the door. He was soothed and reassured, however, when +at last be caught sight of the sheriff. + +"Well, judge, I got company for you," cried the sheriff +cheerfully, as he threw open the door. "A hoss-thief!" + +He pushed into the building a man, hatless and coatless, with a +pair of pale villainous eyes and a tobaccostained chin. The +judge viewed the new-comer with disfavor. As for the +horse-thief, he gave his companion in misery a coldly critical +stare, seated himself on the stool, and with quite a fierce air +devoted all his energy to mastication. He neither altered his +position nor changed his expression until he and the judge were +alone, then, catching the judge's eye, he made what seemed a +casual movement with his hand, the three fingers raised; but to +the judge this clearly was without significance, and the +horse-thief manifested no further interest where he was +concerned. He did not even condescend to answer the one or two +civil remarks the judge addressed to him. + +As the long afternoon wore itself away, the judge lived through +the many stages of doubt and uncertainty, for suppose anything +had happened to Mahaffy! When the sheriff came with his supper +he asked him if he had seen or heard of his friend. + +"Judge, I reckon he's lopin' on yet. I never seen a man of his +years run as well as he done--it was inspirin' how he got over +the ground!" answered the sheriff. Then he attempted +conversation with the horse-thief, but was savagely cursed for +his pains. "Well, I don't envy you your company none, sir," he +remarked as he took leave of the judge. + +Standing before the window, the judge watched the last vestige of +light fade from the sky and the stars appear. Would Mahaffy +come? The suspense was intolerable. It was possibly eight +o'clock. He could not reasonably expect Mahaffy until nine or +half past; to come earlier would be too great a risk. Suddenly +out of the silence sounded a long-drawn whistle. Three times it +was repeated. The horse-thief leaped to his feet. + +"Neighbor, that means me!" he cried. + +The moon was rising now, and by its light the judge saw a number +of horsemen appear on the edge of the woods. They entered the +clearing, picking their way among the stumps without haste or +confusion. When quite close, five of the band dismounted; the +rest continued on about the jail or cantered off toward the road. +By this time the judge's teeth were chattering and he was +dripping cold sweat at every pore. He prayed earnestly that they +might hang the horsethief and spare him. The dismounted men took +up a stick of timber that had been cut for the jail and not used. + +"Look out inside, there!" cried a voice, and the log was dashed +against the door; once--twice--it rose and fell on the +clapboards, and under those mighty thuds grew up a wide gap +through which the moonlight streamed splendidly. The horse-thief +stepped between the dangling cleats and vanished. The judge, +armed with the stool, stood at bay. + +"What next?" a voice asked. + +"Get dry brush--these are green logs--we'll burn this jail!" + +"Hold on!" the judge recognized the horse-thief as the speaker. +"There's an old party in there! No need to singe him!" + +"Friend?" + +"No, I tried him." + +The judge tossed away the stool. He understood now that these +men were neither lynchers nor regulators. With a confident, not +to say jaunty step, he emerged from the jail. + +"Your servant, gentlemen!" he said, lifting his hat. + +"Git!" said one of the men briefly, and the judge moved nimbly +away toward the woods. He had gained its shelter when the jail +began to glow redly. + +Now to find Solomon and the boy, and then to put the miles +between himself and Pleasantville with all diligence. As he +thought this, almost at his elbow Mahaffy and Hannibal rose from +behind a fallen log. The Yankee motioned for silence and pointed +west. + +"Yes," breathed the judge. He noted that Mahaffy had a heavy +pack, and the boy his long rifle. For a mile or two they moved +forward without speech, the boy in the lead; while at his heels +strode Mahaffy, with the judge bringing up the rear. + +"How do you feel, Price?" asked Mahaffy at length, over his +shoulder. + +"Like one come into a fortune! Those horse-thieves gave me a +fine scare, but did me a good turn." + +Hannibal kept to the woods by a kind of instinct, and the two men +yielded themselves to his guidance; but there was no speech +between them. Mahaffy trod in the boy's steps, and the judge, +puffing like an overworked engine, came close upon his heels. In +this way they continued to advance for an hour or more, then the +boy paused. + +"Go on!" commanded Mahaffy. + +"Do you 'low the judge can stand it?" asked Hannibal . + +"Bless you, lad!" panted the judge feelingly. + +"He's got to stand it--either that, or what do you suppose will +happen to us if they start their dogs?" said Mahaffy. + +"Solomon's right--you are sure we are not going in a circle, +Hannibal?" + +"Yes, I'm sure," said Hannibal. "Do you see that star? My Uncle +Bob learned me how I was to watch that star when I wanted to keep +going straight." + +There was another long interval of silence. Bit by bit the sky +became overcast. Vague, fleecy rifts of clouds appeared in the +heavens. A wind sprang up, murmuring about them, there came a +distant roll of thunder, while along the horizon the lightning +rushed in broken, jagged lines of fire. In the east there was a +pale flush that showed the black, hurrying clouds the winds had +summoned out of space. + +The booming thunder, first only the sullen menace of the +approaching storm, rolled nearer and nearer, and the fierce light +came in blinding sheets of flame. A ceaseless, pauseless murmur +sprang up out of the distance, and the trees rocked with a mighty +crashing of branches, while here and there a big drop of rain +fell. Then the murmur swelled into a roar as the low clouds +disgorged themselves. Drenched to the skin on the instant, the +two men and the boy stumbled forward through the gray wake of the +storm. + +"What's come of our trail now?" shouted the judge, but the sound +of his voice was lost in the rush of the hurrying winds and the +roar of the airy cascades that fell about them. + +An hour passed. There was light under the trees, faint, +impalpable without visible cause, but they caught the first +sparkle of the rain drops on leaf and branch; they saw the +silvery rivulets coursing down the mossy trunks of old trees; +last of all through a narrow rift in the clouds, the sun showed +them its golden rim, and day broke in the steaming woods. With +the sun, with a final rush of the hurrying wind, a final torrent, +the storm spent itself, and there was only the drip from bough +and leaf, or pearly opalescent points of moisture on the drenched +black trunks of maple and oak; a sapphire sky, high arched, +remote overhead; and the June day all about. + +"What's come of they trail now?" cried the judge again. "He'll +be a good dog that follows it through, these woods!" + +They had paused on a thickly wooded hillside. + +"We've come eight or ten miles if we have come a rod, Price," +said Mahaffy, "and I am in favor of lying by for the day. When +it comes dark we can go on again." + +The judge readily acquiesced in this, and they presently found a +dense thicket which they cautiously entered. Reaching the center +of the tangled growth, they beat down the briers and bushes, or +cut them away with their knives, until they had a little cleared +space where they could build a fire. Then from the pack which +Mahaffy carried, the rudiments of a simple but filling meal were +produced. + +"Your parents took no chances when they named you Solomon!" said +the judge approvingly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +BELLE PLAIN + + +Now, Tom," said Betty, with a bustling little air of excitement +as she rose from the breakfast table that first morning at Belle +Plain, "I am ready if you are. I want you to show me +everything!" + +"I reckon you'll notice some changes," remarked Tom. + +He went from the room and down the hall a step or two in advance +of her. On the wide porch Betty paused, breathing deep. The +house stood on an eminence; directly before it at the bottom of +the slight descent was a small bayou, beyond this the forest +stretched away in one unbroken mass to the Mississippi. Here and +there, gleaming in the brilliant morning light, some great bend +of the river was visible through the trees, while the Arkansas +coast, blue and distant, piled up against the far horizon. + +"What is it you want to see, anyhow, Betty?" Tom demanded, +turning on her. + +"Everything--the place, Tom--Belle Plain! Oh, isn't it +beautiful! I had no idea how lovely it was!" cried Betty, as +with her eyes still fixed on the distant panorama of woods and +water she went down the steps, Tom at her heels--he bet she'd get +sick of it all soon enough, that was one comfort! + +"Why, Tom! Why does the lawn look like this?" + +"Like what?" inquired Tom. + +"Why, this--all weeds and briers, and the paths overgrown?" and +as Betty surveyed the unkempt waste that had once been a lawn, a +little frown fixed itself on her smooth brow. + +Mr. Ware rubbed his chin reflectively with the back of his hand. + +"That sort of thing looked all right, Bet," he said, "but it kept +five or six of the best hands out of the fields right at the +busiest time of the year." + +"Haven't I slaves enough?" she asked. + +The dull color crept into Ware's cheeks. He hated her for that +"I!" So she was going to come that on him, was she? And he'd +worked himself like a horse to bring in more land. Why, he'd +doubled the acreage in cotton and corn in the last four years! +He smothered his sense of hurt and indignation. + +"Don't you want to see the crops, Bet? Let me order a team and +show you about, you couldn't walk over the place in a week!" he +urged. + +The girl shook her head and moved swiftly down the path that led +from terrace to terrace to the margin of the bayou. At the first +terrace she paused. All below was a wilderness of tangled vines +and brush. She faced Tom rather piteously. What had been lost +was more than he could possibly understand. Her father had +planned these grounds which he was allowing a riotous second +growth to swallow up. + +"It's positively squalid!" cried Betty, with a little stamp of +her foot. + +Ware glanced about with dull eyes. The air of neglect and decay +which was everywhere visible, and which was such a shock to +Betty, had not been reached in a season, he was really convinced +that the place looked pretty much as it had always looked. + +"I'll tell you, Betty, I'm busy this morning; you poke about and +see what you want done and we'll do it," he said, and made a +hasty retreat to his office, a little brick building at the other +side of the house. + +Betty returned to the porch and seating herself on the top step +with her elbows on her knees and her chin sunk in the palms of +her hands, gazed about her miserably enough. She was still +seated there when half an hour later Charley Norton galloped up +the drive from the highroad. Catching sight of her on the porch +he sprang from the saddle, and, throwing his reins to a black +boy, hurried to her side. + +"Inspecting your domain, Betty?" he asked, as he took his place +near her on the step. + +"Why didn't you tell me, Charley--or at least prepare me for +this?" she asked, almost tearfully. + +"How was I to know, Betty? I haven't been here since you went +away, dear--what was there to bring me? Old Tom would make a cow +pasture out of the Garden of Eden, wouldn't he--a beautiful, +practical, sordid soul he is!" + +"What am I going to do, Charley?" + +"Keep after him until you get what you want, it's the only way to +manage Tom that I know of." + +"It's horrid to have to assert one's self!" + +"You'll have to with Tom--you must, Betty--he won't understand +anything else." Then he added: "Let's look around and see what's +needed, a season or two of care will remedy the most of this +neglect. Just make Tom put a lot of hands in here with +brush-hooks and axes and soon you'll not know the place!" + +Norton spent the day at Belle Plain; and though he was there on +his good behavior as the result of an agreement they had reached +on board The Naiad, he proposed twice. + +"My intentions are all right, Betty," he assured her in +extenuation. "But I've the worst memory imaginable. Oh, yes, +the lower terrace is badly gullied, but it's no great matter, it +can be fixed with a little work." + +It was soon plain to Betty that Tom's ideals, if he possessed +any, had not led him in the direction of what he termed display. +His social impulse had suffered atrophy. The house was utterly +disorganized; there was a dearth of suitable servants. Those she +had known were gone--sold, she learned. Tom explained that there +had been no need for them since he had lived pretty much in his +office, what had been the use in keeping darkies standing about +doing nothing? He had got rid of those show niggers and put +their price in husky field hands, who could be made to do a day's +work and not feel they were abused. + +But Tom was mistaken in his supposition that Betty would soon +tire of Belle Plain. She demanded men, and teams, and began on +the lawns. This interested and fascinated her. She was out at +sun-up to direct her laborers. She had the advantage of Charley +Norton's presence and advice for the greater part of each day in +the week, and Sundays he came to look over what had been +accomplished, and, as Tom firmly believed, to put that little +fool up to fresh nonsense. He could have booted him! + +As the grounds took shape before her delighted eyes, Betty found +leisure to institute a thorough reformation indoors. A number of +house servants were rescued from the quarters and she began to +instruct them in their new duties. + +Tom was sick at heart. The little fool would cripple the place. +It gave him acute nausea to see the gangs at work about the +lawns; it made him sicker to pass through the house. There were +five or six women in the kitchen now--he was damned if he could +see what they found to do--there was a butler and a page. Betty +had levied on the stables for one of the best teams to draw the +family carriage, which had not been in use since her mother's +death; there was a coachman for that, and another little monkey +to ride on the rumble and hop down and open gates. This came of +sending girls away to school--they only learned foolishness. + +And those niggers about the house had to be dressed for their new +work; the butler, a cracking plow-hand he was, wore better +clothes than he--Tom--did. No wonder he was sick;--and waste! +Tom knew all about that when the bills began to come in from +Memphis. Why, that pink-faced chit, he always referred to her in +his own mind now as a pink-faced chit, was evolving a scheme of +life that would cost eight or ten thousand dollars a year to +maintain, and she was talking of decorators for the house, either +from New Orleans or Philadelphia, and new furniture from top to +bottom. + +Tom felt that he was being robbed. Then he realized with a sense +of shock that here was a fortune of over half a million in lands +and slaves which he had managed and manipulated all these years, +but which was not his. It was true that under the terms of his +stepmother's will he would inherit it in the event of Betty's +death--well, she looked like dying, a whole lot--she was as +strong as a mule, those soft rounded curves covered plenty of +vigorous muscle; Tom hated the very sight of her. A pink-faced +chit bubbling over with life and useless energy, a perfect curse +she was, with all sorts of extravagant tastes and he was +powerless to check her, for, although he was still her guardian, +there were certain provisions of the will--he consulted the copy +he kept locked up in his desk in the office--that permitted her +to do pretty much as she pleased with her income. It was a hell +of a will! She could spend fifteen or twenty thousand dollars a +year if she wanted to and he couldn't prevent it. It was an +iniquitous document! + +Well, the place could go straight off to the devil, he wouldn't +wear out his life economizing for her to waste--he didn't get a +thank-you--and he knew that nobody took off the land bigger crops +than he did, while bale for bale his cotton outsold all other +cotton raised in the county--that was the kind of a manager he +was. He wagged his head in self-approval. And what did he get +out of it? A lump sum each year with a further lump sum of +twenty thousand dollars when she came of age--soon now--or +married. Tom's eyes bulged from their sockets--she'd be doing +that next, to spite him! + +Betty's sphere of influence rapidly extended itself. She soon +began to have her doubts concerning the treatment accorded the +slaves, and was not long in discovering that Hicks, the overseer, +ran things with a heavy hand. Matters reached a crisis one day +when, happening to ride through the quarters, she found him +disciplining a refractory black. She turned sick at the sight. +Here was a slave actually being whipped by another slave while +Hicks stood looking on with his hands in his pockets, and with a +brutal satisfied air. When he caught sight of the girl, he sang +out + +"That'll do; he's had enough, I reckon, to learn him!" He added +sullenly to Betty, "Sorry you seen this, Miss!" + +"How dare you order such a punishment without authority!" cried +Betty furiously. + +Hicks gave her a black scowl. + +"I don't need no authority to whip a shirker," he said +insolently, as he turned away. + +"Stop!" commanded Betty, her eyes blazing. She strove to keep +her voice steady. "You shall not remain at Belle Plain another +hour." + +Hicks said nothing. He knew it would take more than her saying +so to get him off the place. Betty turned her horse and galloped +back to the house. She felt that she was in no condition to see +Tom just at that moment, and dismounting at the door ran +up-stairs to her room. + +Meantime the overseer sought out Ware in his office. His manner +of stating his grievance was singular. He began by swearing at +his employer. He had been insulted before all the quarter--his +rage fairly choked him, he could not speak. + +Tom seized the opportunity to swear back. He wanted to know if +he hadn't troubles enough without the overseer's help? If he'd +got himself insulted it was his own affair and he could lump it, +generally speaking, and get out of that office! But Tom's fury +quickly spent itself. He wanted to know what the matter was. + +"Sent you off the place, did she; well, you'll have to eat crow. +I'll do all I can. I don't know what girls were ever made for +anyhow, damned if I do!" he added plaintively, as a realization +of a stupendous mistake on the part of nature overwhelmed him. + +Hicks consented to eat crow only after Mr. Ware had cursed and +cajoled him into a better and more forgiving frame of mind. Then +Tom hurried off to find Betty and put matters right; a more +difficult task than he had reckoned on, for Betty was obdurate +and her indignation flared up at mention of the incident; all his +powers of argument and persuasion were called into requisition +before she would consent to Hicks remaining, and then only on +that most uncertain tenure, his good behavior. + +"Now you come up to the house," said Tom, when he had won his +point and gone back to Hicks, "and get done with it. I reckon +you talked when you should have kept your blame familiar mouth +shut! Come on, and get it over with, and say you're sorry." + +Later, after Hicks had made his apology, the two men smoked a +friendly pipe and discussed the situation. Tom pointed out that +opposition was useless, a losing game, you could get your way by +less direct means. She wouldn't stay long at Belle Plain, but +while she did remain they must avoid any more crises of the sort +through which they had just passed, and presently; she'd be sick +of the place. Tom wagged his head. She was sick of it already +only she hadn't the sense to know it. It wasn't good enough. +Nothing suited-the house--the grounds--nothing! + +In the midst of her activities Betty occasionally found time to +think of Bruce Carrington. She was sure she did not wish to see +him again! But when three weeks had passed she began to feel +incensed that he had not appeared. She thought of him with hot +cheeks and a quickening beat of the heart. It was anger. +Naturally she was very indignant, as she had every right to be! +He was the first man who had dared--! + +Then one day when she had decided for ever to banish all memory +of him from her mind, and never, under any circumstances, to +think of him again, he presented himself at Belle Plain. + +She was in her room just putting the finishing touches to an +especially satisfying toilet when her maid tapped on the door and +told her there was a gentleman in the parlor who wished to see +her. + +"Is it Mr. Norton?" asked Betty. + +"No, Miss--he didn't give no name, Miss." + +When Betty entered the parlor a moment later she saw her caller +standing with his back turned toward her as he gazed from one of +the windows, but she instantly recognized those broad shoulders, +and the fine poise of the shapely head that surmounted them. + +"Oh, Mr. Carrington--" and Betty stopped short, while her face +grew rather pale and then crimsoned. Then she advanced quite +boldly and held out a frigid hand, which he took carefully. "I +didn't know--so you are alive--you disappeared so suddenly that +night--" + +"Yes, I'm alive," he said, and then with a smile. "But I fear +before you get through with me we'll both wish I were not, +Betty." + +"Don't call me Betty." + +"Who was that man who met you at New Madrid? He can't have you, +whoever he is!" His eyes dwelt on her tenderly, and the +remembered spell of her fresh youthful beauty deepened itself for +him. + +"Perhaps he doesn't want me--" + +"Yes, he does. That was plain as day." + +Betty surveyed him from under her lashes. What could she do with +this man? Nothing affected him. He seemed to have crossed some +intangible barrier and to stand closer to her than any other man +had ever stood. + +"Do you still hate me, Betty--Miss Malroy--is there anything I +can say or do that will make you forgive me?" He looked at her +penitently. + +But Betty hardened her heart against him and prepared to keep him +in place. Remembering that he was still holding her hand, she +recovered it. + +"Will you sit down?" she indicated a chair. He seated himself +and Betty put a safe distance between them. "Are you staying in +the neighborhood, Mr. Carrington ?" she asked, rather unkindly. +How did he dare come here when she had forgotten him and her +annoyance? And now the sight of him brought back memories of +that disagreeable night on that horrid boat--he had deceived her +about that boat, too--she would never forgive him for that--she +had trusted him and he had clearly shown that he was not to be +trusted; and Betty closed her pretty mouth until it was a thin +red line and looked away that she might not see his hateful face. + +"No, I'm not staying in the neighborhood. When I left you, I +made up my mind I'd wait at New Madrid until I could come on down +here and say I was sorry." + +"And it's taken you all this time?" + +Carrington regarded her seriously. + +"I reckon I must have come for more time, Betty--Miss Malroy." +In spite of herself, Betty glowed under the caressing humor of +his tone. + +"Really--you must have chosen poorly then when you selected New +Madrid. It couldn't have been a good place for your purpose." + +"I think if I could have made up my mind to stay there long +enough, it would have answered," said Carrington. "But when a +down-river boat tied up 'there yesterday it was more than I could +stand. You 'see there's danger in a town like New Madrid of +getting too sorry. I thought we'd better discuss this point--" + +"Mayn't I show you Belle Plain?" asked Betty quickly. + +But Carrington shook his head. + +"I don't care anything about that," he said. "I didn't come here +to see Belle Plain." + +"You certainly are candid," said Betty. + +"I intend to be honest with you always." + +"Dear me--but I don't know that I shall particularly like it. Do +you think it was quite fair to select the boat you did, or was +your resolution to be always honest formed later?" demanded Betty +severely. + +He looked at her with great sweetness of expression. + +"I didn't advise that boat for speed, only for safety. Betty, +doesn't it mean anything to you that I love you? I admit that I +wish it had been twice as slow!" he added reflectively, as an +afterthought. He looked at her steadily, and Betty's dark lashes +drooped as the color mounted to her face. + +"I don't," she said quickly. She rose from her chair, and +Carrington followed her example with a lithe movement that +bespoke muscles in good training. She led the way through the +wide hall and out to the porch. + +"Now I am going to show you all over the place," she announced +resolutely. She stood on the top step, looking off into the +flaming west where the sun rode low in the heavens. "Isn't it +lovely, Mr. Carringtonisn't it beautiful?" + +"Very beautiful!" Carrington's glance was fixed on her face. + +"If you don't care to see Belle Plain," began Betty, rather +indignantly. +"No, I don't, Betty. This is enough for me. I'll come for that +some other time if you'll be good enough to let me?" + +"Then you expect to remain in the neighborhood?" + +"I've given up the river, and I'm going to get hold of some land--" + +"Land?" said Betty, with a rising inflection. + +"Yes, land." + +"I thought you were a river-man?" + +"I'm a river-man no longer. I am going to be a planter now. But +I'll tell you why, and all about it some other day." Then he +held out his hand. "Goodby," he added. + +"Are you going--good-by, Mr. Carrington," and Betty's fingers +tingled with his masterful clasp long after he had gone. + +Carrington sauntered slowly down the path to the highroad. + +"She didn't ask me to come back--an oversight," he told himself +cheerfully. + +Just beyond the gates he met that same young fellow he had seen +at New Madrid. Norton nodded good-naturedly as he passed, and +Carrington, glancing back, saw that he turned in at Belle Plain. +He shrugged his shoulders, and went on his way not rejoicing. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SHOOTING-MATCH AT BOGGS' + + +The judge's faith in the reasonableness of mankind having +received a staggering blow, there began a somewhat furtive +existence for himself, for Solomon Mahaffy, and for the boy. +They kept to little frequented byways, and usually it was the +early hours of morning, or the cool of late afternoons when they +took the road. + +The heat of silent middays found them lounging beside shady +pools, where the ripple of fretted waters filled the pauses in +their talk. It was then that the judge and Mahaffy exchanged +views on literature and politics, on religion and politics, on +the public debt and politics, on canals and national roads and +more politics. They could and did honestly differ at great +length and with unflagging energy on these vital topics, +especially politics, for they were as far apart mentally as they +were close together morally. + +Mahaffy, morose and embittered, regarded the life they were +living as an unmixed hardship. The judge entered upon it with +infinite zest. He displayed astonishing adaptability, while he +brought all the resources of a calm and modest knowledge to bear +on the vexed problem of procuring sustenance for himself and for +his two companions. + +"To an old campaigner like me, nothing could be more delightful +than this holiday, coming as it does on the heels of grinding +professional activity," he observed to Mahaffy. "This is the way +our first parents lived--close to nature, in touch with her +gracious beneficence! Sir, this experience is singularly +refreshing after twenty years of slaving at the desk. If any man +can grasp the possibilities of a likely looking truck-patch at a +glance, I am that man, and as for getting around in the dark and +keeping the lay of the land--well, I suppose it's my military +training. Jackson always placed the highest value on such data +as I furnished him. He leaned on me more than any other man, +Solomon--" + +"I've heard he stood up pretty straight," said Mahaffy affably. +The judge's abandoned conduct distressed him not a little, but +his remonstrances had been in vain. + +"I consider that when society subjected me to the indignity of +arrest, I was relieved of all responsibility. Injustice must +bear its own fruit," the judge had answered him sternly. + +His beginnings had been modest enough: a few ears of corn, a few +hills of potatoes, and the like, had satisfied him; then one +night he appeared in camp with two streaks of scarlet down the +side of his face. + +"Are you hurt, Price?" demanded Mahaffy, betraying an anxiety of +which he was instantly ashamed. + +"Let me relieve your apprehension, Solomon; it's only a trickle +of stewed fruit. I folded a couple of pies and put them in the +crown of my hat," explained the judge. + +"You mean you've been in somebody's springhouse ?" + +"It was unlocked, Solomon, This will be a warning to the owner. +I consider I have done him a kindness." + +Thus launched on a career of plunder, the judge very speedily +accumulated a water bucket--useful when one wished to milk a cow +--an ax from a woodpile, a kettle from a summer kitchen, a tin of +soft soap, and an excellent blanket from a wash-line. + +"For the boy, Solomon," he said gently, when he caught Mahaffy's +steady disapproving glance fixed upon him as he displayed this +last trophy. + +"What sort of an example are you setting him?" + +"The world is full of examples I'd not recommend, Solomon. One +must learn to discriminate. A body can no more follow all the +examples than he can follow all the roads, and I submit that the +ends of morality can as well be served in showing a child what he +should not do as in showing him what he should. Indeed, I don't +know but it's the finer educational idea!" + +Thereafter the judge went through the land with an eye out for +wash-lines. + +"I'm looking for a change of linen for the boy, Solomon," he +said. "Let me bring you a garment or two. Eh--how few men +you'll find of my build; those last shirts I got were tight +around the armholes and had no more tail than a rabbit!" + +Two nights later Mr. Mahaffy accepted a complete change of under +linen, but without visible sign of gratitude. + +A night later the judge disappeared from camp, and after a +prolonged absence returned puffing and panting with three +watermelons, which proved to be green, since his activity had +been much in advance of the season. + +"I don't suppose there is any greater tax on human ingenuity than +to carry three watermelons!" he remarked. "The human structure +is ideally adapted to the transportation of two--it can be done +with comfort; but when a body tackles three he finds that nature +herself is opposed to the proceeding! Well, I am going back for +a bee-gum I saw in a fence corner. Hannibal will enjoy that--a +child is always wanting sweets!" + +In this fashion they fared gaily across the state, but as they +neared the Mississippi the judge began to consider the future. +His bright and illuminating intelligence dealt with this problem +in all its many-sidedness. + +"I wish you'd enter one of the learned professions, Solomon--have +you ever thought of medicine?" he inquired. Mr. Mahaffy laughed. +"But why not, Solomon? There is nothing like a degree or a +title--that always stamps a man, gives him standing--" + +"What do I know about the human system?" + +"I should certainly hope you know as much as the average doctor +knows. We could locate in one of these new towns where they have +the river on one side and the canal on the other, and where +everybody has the ague--" + +"What do I know about medicine?" inquired Mahaffy. + +"As much as Aesculapius, no doubt--even he had to make a +beginning. The torch of science wasn't lit in a day--you must be +willing to wait; but you've got a good sick-room manner. Have +you ever thought of opening an undertaker's shop? If you +couldn't cure them you might bury them." + +A certain hot afternoon brought them into the shaded main street +of a straggling village. Near the door of the principal +building, a frame tavern, a man was seated, with his feet on the +horse-rack. There was no other sign of human occupancy. + +"How do you do, sir?" said the judge, halting before this +solitary individual whom he conjectured to be the 'landlord. The +man nodded, thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his vest. +"What's the name of this bustling metropolis?" continued the +judge, cocking his head on one side. + +As he spoke, Bruce Carrington appeared in the tavern door; +pausing there, he glanced curiously at the shabby wayfarers. + +"This is Raleigh, in Shelby County, Tennessee, one of the states +of the Union of which, no doubt, you've heard rumor in your +wanderings," said the landlord. + +"Are you the voice from the tomb?" inquired the judge, in a tone +of playful sarcasm. + +Carrington, amused, sauntered toward him. + +"That's one for you, Mr. Pegloe!" he said. + +"I am charmed to meet a gentleman whose spirit of appreciation +shows his familiarity with a literary allusion," said the judge, +bowing. + +"We ain't so dead as we look," said Pegloe. "Just you keep on to +Boggs' race-track, straight down the road, and you'll find that +out--everybody's there to the hoss-racing and shooting-match. I +reckon you've missed the hoss-racing, but you'll be in time for +the shooting. Why ain't you there, Mr. Carrington?" + +"I'm going now, Mr. Pegloe," answered Carrington, as he followed +the judge, who, with Mahaffy and the boy, had moved off. + +"Better stop at Boggs'!" Pegloe called after them. + +But the judge had already formed his decision. + +Horse-racing and shooting-matches were suggestive of that +progressive spirit, the absence of which he had so much lamented +at the jail raising at Pleasantville--Memphis was their objective +point, but Boggs' became a side issue of importance. They had +gained the edge of the village when Carrington overtook them. He +stepped to Hannibal's side. + +"Here, let me carry that long rifle, son!" he said. Hannibal +looked up into his face, and yielded the piece without a word. +Carrington balanced it on his big, muscular palm. "I reckon it +can shoot--these old guns are hard to beat!" he observed. + +"She's the clostest shooting rifle I ever sighted," said Hannibal +promptly. "You had ought to see the judge shoot her--my! he +never misses!" + +Carrington laughed. + +"The clostest shooting rifle you ever sighted--eh?" he repeated. +"Why, aren't you afraid of it?" + +"No," said Hannibal scornfully. "But she kicks you some if you +don't hold her right." + +There was a rusty name-plate on the stock of the old sporting +rifle; this had caught Carrington's eye. + +"What's the name here? Oh, Turberville." + +The judge, a step or two in advance, wheeled in his tracks with a +startling suddenness. + +"What?" he faltered, and his face was ashen. + +"Nothing, I was reading the name here; it is yours; sir, I +suppose?" said Carrington. + +The color crept slowly back into the judge's cheeks, but a +tremulous hand stole up to his throat. + +"No, sir--no; my name is Price--Slocum Price! Turberville +--Turberville--" he muttered thickly, staring stupidly at +Carrington. + +"It's not a common name; you seem to have heard it before?" said +the latter. + +A spasm of pain passed over the judge's face. + +"I--I've heard it. The name is on the rifle, you say?" + +"Here on the stock, yes." + +The judge took the gun and examined it in silence. + +"Where did you get this rifle, Hannibal?" he at length asked +brokenly. + +"I fetched it away from the Barony, sir; Mr. Crenshaw said I +might have it." + +The judge gave a great start, and a hoarse inarticulate murmur +stole from between his twitching lips. + +"The Barony--the Barony--what Barony? The Quintard seat in North +Carolina, is that what you mean?" + +"Yes," said the boy. + +The judge, as though stunned, stared at Hannibal and stared at +the rifle, where the rusted name-plate danced before his eyes. + +"What do you know of the Barony, Hannibal?" the words came slowly +from the judge's lips, and his face had gone gray again. + +"I lived at the Barony once, until Uncle Bob took me to Scratch +Hill to be with him. It were Mr. Crenshaw said I was to have the +old sp'otin' rifle," said Hannibal. + +"You--you lived at the Barony?" repeated the judge, and a dull +stupid wonder struck through his tone, he passed a shaking hand +before his eyes. "How long ago--when?" he continued. + +"I don't know how long it were, but until Uncle Bob carried me +away after the old general died." + +The judge slipped a hand under the child's chin and tilted his +face back so that he might look into it. For a long moment he +studied closely those small features, then with a shake of the +head he handed the rifle to Carrington, and without a word strode +forward. Carrington had been regarding Hannibal with a quickened +interest. + +"Hello!" he said, as the judge moved off. "You're the boy I saw +at Scratch Hill!" + +Hannibal gave him a frightened glance, and edged to Mr. Mahaffy's +side, but did not answer him. + +"What's become of Bob Yancy?" Carrington went on. He looked from +Mahaffy to the judge; externally neither of these gentlemen was +calculated to inspire confidence. Mahaffy, keenly alive to this +fact, returned Carrington's glance with a fixed and hostile +stare. "Come--" said Carrington good-naturedly, "you surely +remember me?" + +"Yes, sir; I reckon I do--" + +"Can't you tell me about Mr. Yancy?" + +"No, sir; I don't know exactly where he is--" + +"But how did you get here?" persisted Carrington. + +Suddenly Mahaffy turned on him. + +"Don't you see he's with us?" he said truculently. + +"Well, my dear sir, I certainly intended no offense!" rejoined +Carrington rather hotly. + +Mahaffy was plainly disturbed, the debased currency of his +affection was in circulation where Hannibal was concerned, and he +eyed the river-man askance. He was prepared to give him the lie +should he set up any claim to the boy. + +The judge plodded forward, his shoulders drooped, and his head +bowed. For once silence had fixed its seal upon his lips, no +inspiring speech fell from them. He had been suddenly swept back +into a past he had striven these twenty years and more to forget, +and his memories shaped themselves fantastically. Surely if ever +a man had quitted the world that knew him, he was that man! He +had died and yet he lived--lived horribly, without soul or heart, +the empty shell of a man. + +A turn in the road brought them within sight of Boggs' racetrack, +a wide level meadow. The judge paused irresolutely, and turned +his bleared face on his friend. + +"We'll stop here, Solomon," he said rather wearily, for the +spirit of boast and jest was quite gone out of him. He glanced +toward Carrington. "Are you a resident of these parts, sir?" he +asked. + +"I've been in Raleigh three days altogether," answered +Carrington, falling into step at his side, and they continued on +across the meadow in silence. + +"Do you observe the decorations of those refreshment booths?--the +tasteful disposition of our national colors, sir?" the judge +presently inquired. + +Carrington smiled; he was able to follow his companion's train of +thought. + +They were elbowing the crowd now. Here were men from the small +clearings in homespun and butternut or fringed hunting-shirts, +with their women folk trailing after them. Here, too, in lesser +numbers, were the lords of the soil, the men who counted their +acres by the thousand and their slaves by the score. There was +the flutter of skirts among the moving groups, the nodding of gay +parasols that shaded fresh young faces, while occasionally a +comfortable family carriage with some planter's wife or daughter +rolled silently over the turf; for Boggs' race-track was a famous +meeting-place where families that saw one another not above once +or twice a year, friends who lived a day's hard drive apart even +when summer roads were at their best, came as to a common center. + +The judge's dull eye kindled, the haggard lines that had streaked +his face erased themselves. This was life, opulent and full. +These swift rolling carriages with their handsome women, these +well-dressed men on foot, and splendidly mounted, all did their +part toward lifting him out of his gloom. He settled his hat on +his head with a rakish slant and his walk became a strut, he +courted observation; he would have been grateful for a word, even +a jest at his expense. + +A cry from Hannibal drew his attention. Turning, he was in time +to see the boy bound away. An instant later, to his +astonishment, he saw a young girl who was seated with two men in +an open carriage, spring to the ground, and dropping to her knees +put her arms about the tattered little figure. + +"Why, Hannibal!" cried Betty Malroy. + +"Miss Betty! Miss Betty!" and Hannibal buried his head on her +shoulder. + +"What is it, Hannibal; what is it, dear?" + +"Nothing, only I'm so glad to find you!" + +"I am glad to see you, too!" said Betty, as she wiped his tears +away. "When did you get here, dear?" + +"We got here just to-day, Miss Betty," said Hannibal. + +Mr. Ware, careless as to dress, with a wiry black beard of a +week's growth decorating his chin and giving an unkempt +appearance which his expression did not mitigate, it being of the +sour and fretful sort; scowled down on the child. He had favored +Boggs' with his presence, not because he felt the least interest +in horse-racing, but because he had no faith in girls, and +especially had he profound mistrust of Betty. She was so much +easily portable wealth, a pink-faced chit ready to fall into the +arms of the first man who proposed to her. But Charley Norton +had not seemed disturbed by the planter's forbidding air. +Between those two there existed complete reciprocity of feeling, +inasmuch as Tom's presence was as distasteful to Norton as his +own presence was distressing to Ware. + +"Where is your Uncle Bob, Hannibal?" Betty asked, glancing about, +and at her question a shadow crossed the child's face and the +tears gathered again in his eyes. + +"Ain't you seen him, Miss Betty?" he whispered. He had been +sustained by the belief that when he found her he should find his +Uncle Bob, too. + +"Why, what do you mean, Hannibal--isn't your Uncle Bob with you?" +demanded Betty. + +"He got hurt in a fight, and I got separated from him way back +yonder just after we came out of the mountains." He looked up +piteously into Betty's face. "But you think he'll find me, don't +you?" + +"Why, you poor little thing!" cried Betty compassionately, and +again she sank on her knees at Hannibal's side, and slipped her +arms about him. The child began to cry softly. + +"What ragamuffin's this, Betty?" growled Ware disgustedly. + +But Betty did not seem to hear. + +"Did you come alone, Hannibal?" she asked. + +"No, ma'am; the judge and Mr. Mahaffy, they fetched me." + +The judge had drawn nearer as Betty and Hannibal spoke together, +but Mahaffy hung back. There were gulfs not to be crossed by +him. It was different with the judge; the native magnificence of +his mind fitted him for any occasion. He pulled up his stock, +and coaxed a half-inch of limp linen down about his wrists, then +very splendidly he lifted his napless hat from his shiny bald +head and pressing it against his fat chest with much fervor, +elegantly inclined himself from the hips. + +"Allow me the honor to present myself, ma'am--Price is my name +--Judge Slocum Price. May I be permitted to assume that this is +the Miss Betty of whom my young protege so often speaks?" The +judge beamed benevolently, and rested a ponderous hand on the +boy's head. + +Tom Ware gave him a glance of undisguised astonishment, while +Norton regarded him with an expression of stunned and resolute +gravity. Mahaffy seemed to be undergoing a terrible moment of +uncertainty. He was divided between two purposes: one was to +seize Price by the coat tails and drag him back into the crowd; +the other was to kick him, and himself fly that spot. This +singular impulse sprang from the fact that he firmly believed his +friend's appearance was sufficient to blast the boy's chances in +every quarter; nor did he think any better of himself. + +Betty looked at the judge rather inquiringly. + +"I am glad he has found friends," she said slowly. She wanted to +believe that judge Slocum Price was somehow better than he +looked, which should have been easy, since it was incredible that +he could have been worse. + +"He has indeed found friends," said the judge with mellow +unction, and swelling visibly. These prosperous appearing people +should be of use to him, God willing--he made a sweeping gesture. +"I have assumed the responsibility of his future--he is my care." + +Now Betty caught sight of Carrington and bowed. Occupied with +Hannibal and the judge, she had been unaware of his presence. +Carrington stepped forward. + +"Have you met Mr. Norton, and my brother, Mr. Carrington?" she +asked. + +The two young men shook hands, and Ware improved the opportunity +to inspect the new-comer. But as his glance wandered over him, +it took in more than Carrington, for it included the fine figure +and swarthy face of Captain Murrell, who, with his eyes fixed on +Betty, was thrusting his eager way through the crowd. + +Murrell had presented himself at Belle Plain the day before. For +upward of a year, Ware had enjoyed great peace of mind as a +direct result of his absence from west Tennessee, and when he +thought of him at all he had invariably put a period to his +meditations with, "I hope to hell he catches it wherever he is!" +It had really seemed a pernicious thing to him that no one had +shown sufficient public spirit to knock the captain on the head, +and that this had not been done, utterly destroyed his faith in +the good intentions of Providence. + +More than this, Betty had spoken of the captain in no uncertain +terms. He was not to repeat that visit. Tom must make that +point clear to him. Tom might entertain him if he liked at his +office, but the doors of Belle Plain were closed against Captain +Murrell; he was not to set his foot inside of them. + +As Murrell approached, the hot color surged into Betty's face. +As for Hannibal, he had gone white to the lips, and his small +hand clutched hers desperately; he was remembering all the terror +of that hot dawn at Slosson's. + +Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great +confidence had placed him in an awkward position, for Betty +turned her back on him and began an animated conversation with +Carrington and Charley Norton; only Hannibal and the judge +continued to regard him; the boy with a frightened, fascinated +stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile. + +Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's +side. + +"Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?" +he inquired. + +Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief. + +"If you can spare me your rifle," he said, but his face wore a +bleak look. Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the +other contestants, whereupon two or three young planters silently +withdrew from the firing-line. + +"Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?" demanded Tom. +"You don't care for the shooting, do you ?" + +"That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that +than the horse-racing," said Betty perversely. This had been her +first appearance in public since her home-coming, and she felt +that it had been most satisfactory. She had met everybody she +had ever known, and scores of new people; her progress had been +quite triumphal in spite of Tom, and in spite of Charley Norton, +who was plainly not anxious to share her with any one, his +devotion being rather of the monopolizing sort. + +Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside +her, quietly determined to miss nothing. The judge, feeling that +he had come into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and +explained the merits of each shot as it was made. + +"Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master +with his weapon," he observed. + +Betty was already aware of this. She turned to Norton. + +"Charley, I can't bear to have him win!" + +"I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty," said Norton. + +"Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?--do take Hannibal's rifle and +beat him," she coaxed. + +"Don't be too sure that I can!" said Carrington, laughing. + +"But I know you can!" urged Betty. + +"I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the +prize?" said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage. + +"Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle." + +"I am not shooting to-day," responded Norton haughtily. + +Murrell stalked back to the line. + +"At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am," said the judge. "But +at a hundred, offhand like this, I should most certainly fail +--I've burnt too much midnight oil. Eh--what--damn the dog, +he's scored another center shot!" + +"It would be hard to beat that--" they heard Murrell say. + +"At least it would be quite possible to equal it," said +Carrington, advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands. +It was tossed to his shoulder, and poured out its contents in a +bright stream of flame. There was a moment of silence. + +"Center shot, ma'am!" cried the judge. + +"I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!" Norton addressed himself +to Carrington. "And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your +pocket." + +"Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not?" said the judge. + +"Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money?" remarked +Murrell. + +"I'm ready to do that too, sir," responded Norton quietly. + +"Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success +you take so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my +next shot!" Murrell had produced a roll of bills as he spoke. +Norton colored with embarrassment. Carrington took in the +situation. + +"Wait a minute--" he said, and passed his purse to Norton. + +"Cover his money, sir," he added briefly. + +"Thank you, my horses have run away with most of my cash," +explained Norton. + +"Your shot!" said Carrington shortly, to the outlaw. + +Murrell taking careful aim, fired, clipping the center. + +As soon as the result was known, Carrington raised his rifle; his +bullet, truer than his opponent's, drove out the center. Murrell +turned on him with an oath. + +"You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for +a man's nerve," he said insolently. + +Carrington was charging his piece. + +"I only know of one other kind of target," he observed coolly. + +"Yes--a living target!" cried Murrell. + +The crowd opened from right to left. Betty's face grew white, +and uttering a smothered cry she started to descend from the +carriage, but the judge rested his hand on her arm. + +"No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for +himself." + +Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient +weapon. + +"I am ready for that, too," he said. There was a slow smile on +his lips, but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain +through and through. + +"Another time--" said Murrell, scowling. + +"Any time," answered Carrington indifferently. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE PORTAL OF HOPE + + +"This--" the speaker was judge Price; "this is the place for me: +They are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a +patriotic people with an unstinted love of country. A people +full of rugged virtues engaged in carving a great state out of +the indulgent bosom of Nature. I like the size of their whisky +glasses; I like the stuff that goes into them; I despise a +section that separates its gallons into too many glasses. Show +me a community that does that, and I'll show you a community +rapidly tending toward a low scale of living. I'd like to hang +out my shingle here and practise law." + +The judge and Mr. Mahaffy were camped in the woods between Boggs' +and Raleigh. Betty had carried Hannibal off to spend the night +at Belle Plain, Carrington had disappeared with Charley Norton; +but the judge and Mahaffy had lingered in the meadow until the +last refreshment booth struck its colors to the twilight, and +they had not lingered in vain. The judge threw himself at full +length on the ground, and Mahaffy dropped at his side. About +them, in the ruddy glow of their camp-fire, rose the dark wall of +the forest. + +"I crave opportunity, Solomon--the indorsement of my own class. +I feel that I shall have it here," resumed the judge pensively. + +But Mahaffy was sad in his joy, sober in his incipientent +drunkenness. The same handsome treatment which the judge +commended, had been as freely tendered him, yet he saw the end of +all such hospitality. This was the worm in the bud. The judge, +however, was an eager idealist; he still dreamed of Utopia, he +still believed in millenniums. Mahaffy didn't and couldn't. +Memory was the scarecrow in the garden of his hopes--you could +wear out your welcome anywhere. In the end the world reckoned +your cost, and unless you were prepared to make some sort of +return for its bounty, the cold shoulder came to be your portion +instead of the warm handclasp. + +"Hannibal has found friends among people of the first importance. +I have made it my business to inquire into their standing, and I +find that young lady is heiress to a cool half million. Think of +that, Solomon--think of that! I never saw anything more +beautiful than her manifestation of regard for my protege--" + +"And you made it your business, Mr. Price, to do your very +damnedest to ruin his chances," said Mahaffy, with sudden heat. + +"I ruin his chances?--I, sir? I consider that I helped his +chances immeasurably." + +"All right, then, you helped his chances--only you didn't, +Price!" + +"Am I to understand, Solomon, that you regard my interest in the +boy as harmful?" inquired the judge, in a tone of shocked +surprise. + +"I regard it as a calamity," said Mahaffy, with cruel candor. + +"And how about you, Solomon?" + +"Equally a calamity. Mr. Price, you don't seem able to grasp +just what we look like!" + +"The mind's the only measure of the man, Solomon. If anybody can +talk to me and be unaware that they are conversing with a +gentleman, all I can say is their experience has been as pitiable +as their intelligence is meager. But it hurts me when you +intimate that I stand in the way of the boy's opportunity." + +"Price, what do you; suppose we look like--you and I" + +"In a general way, Solomon, I am conscious that our appeal is to +the brain rather than the eye," answered the judge, with dignity. + +"I reckon even you couldn't do a much lower trick than use the +boy as a stepping-stone," pursued Mahaffy. + +"I don't see how you have the heart to charge me with such a +purpose--I don't indeed, Solomon." The judge spoke with deep +feeling; he was really hurt. + +"Well, you let the boy have his chance, and don't you stick in +your broken oar," cried Mahaffy fiercely. + +The judge rolled over on his back, and stared up at the heavens. + +"This is a new aspect of your versatile nature, Solomon. Must I +regard you as a personally emancipated moral influence, not +committed to the straight and narrow path yourself, but still +close enough to it to keep my feet from straying?" he at length +demanded. + +Mahaffy having spoken his mind, preserved a stony silence. + +The judge got up and replenished the camp-fire, which had burnt +low, then squatting before it, he peered into the flames. + +"You'll not deny, Solomon, that Miss Malroy exhibited a real +affection for Hannibal?" he began. + +"Now don't you try to borrow money of her, Price," said Mahaffy, +returning to the attack. + +"Solomon--Solomon--how can you?" + +"That'll be your next move. Now let her alone; let Hannibal have +his luck as it comes to him." + +"You seem to forget, sir, that I still bear the name of +gentleman!" said the judge. + +Mahaffy gave way to acid merriment. + +"Well, see that you are not tempted to forget that," he observed. + +"If I didn't know your sterling qualities, Solomon, and pay +homage to 'em, I might be tempted to take offense," said the +judge. + +"It's like pouring water on a duck's back to talk to you, Price; +nothing strikes in." + +"On the contrary, I am at all times ready to listen to reason +from any quarter, but I've studied this matter in its many-sided +aspect. I won't say we might not do better in Memphis, but we +must consider the boy. No; if I can find a vacant house in +Raleigh, I wouldn't ask a finer spot in which to spend the +afternoon of my life." + +"Afternoon?" snapped Mahaffy irritably. + +"That's right--carp--! But you can't relegate me! You can't +shove me away from the portal of hope--metaphorically speaking, +I'm on the stoop; it may be God's pleasure that I enter; there's +a place for gray heads--and there's a respectable slice of life +after the meridian is passed." + +"Humph!" said Mahaffy. + +"I've made my impression; I've been thrown with cultivated minds +quick to recognize superiority; I've met with deference and +consideration." + +"Aren't you forgetting the boy?" inquired Mahaffy. "No, sir! I +regard my obligations where he is concerned as a sacred trust to +be administered in a lofty and impersonal manner. If his +friends--if Miss Malroy, for instance--cares to make me the +instrument of her benefactions, I'll not be disposed to stand on +my dignity; but his education shall be my care. I'll make such a +lawyer of him as America has not seen before! I don't ask you to +accept my own opinion of my fitness to do this, but two gentlemen +with whom I talked this evening--one of them was the justice of +the peace--were pleased to say that they had never heard such +illuminating comments on the criminal law. I quoted the Greeks +and Romans to 'em, sir; I gave 'em the salient points on +mediaeval law; and they were dumfounded and speechless. I reckon +they'd never heard such an exposition of fundamental principles; +I showed 'em the germ and I showed 'em fruition. Damn it, sir, +they were overwhelmed by the array of facts I marshaled for 'em. +They said they'd never met with such erudition--no more they had, +for I boiled down thirty years of study into ten minutes of talk! +I flogged 'em with facts, and then we drank--" The judge smacked +his lips. "It is this free-handed hospitality I like; it's this +that gives life its gala aspect." + +He forgot former experiences; but without this kindly refusal of +memory to perform its wonted functions, the world would have been +a chill place indeed for Slocum Price. But Mahaffy, keen and +anxious, with doubt in every glass he drained, a lurking devil to +grin at him above the rim, could see only the end of their brief +hour of welcome. This made the present moment as bitter as the +last. + +"I have a theory, Solomon, that I shall be handsomely supported +by my new friends. They'll snatch at the opportunity." + +"I see 'em snatching, Mr. Price," said Mahaffy grimly. + +"That's right--go on and plant doubt in my heart if you can! +You're as hopeless as the grave side!" cried the judge, a spasm +of rage shaking him. + +"The thing for us to do--you and I, Price--is to clear out of +here," said Mahaffy, + +"But what of the boy?" + +"Leave him with his friends." + +"How do you know Miss Malroy would be willing to assume his care? +It's scandalous the way you leap at conclusions. No, Solomon, +no--I won't shirk a single irksome responsibility," and the +judge's voice shook with suppressed emotion. Mahaffy laughed. +"There you go again, Solomon, with that indecent mirth of yours! +Friendship aside, you grow more offensive every day." The judge +paused and then resumed. "I understand there's a federal +judgeship vacant here. The president--" Mr. Mahafly gave him a +furtive leer. "I tell you General Jackson was my friend--we were +brothers, sir--I stood at his side on the glorious blood-wet +field of New Orleans! You don't believe me " + +"Price, you've made more demands on my stock of credulity than +any man I've ever known!" + +The judge became somber-faced. + +"Unparalleled misfortune overtook me--I stepped aside, but the +world never waits; I was a cog discarded from the mechanism of +society--" He was so pleased with the metaphor that he repeated +it. + +"Look here, Price, you talk as though you were a modern job; +what's the matter anyhow?--have you got boils?" + +The judge froze into stony silence. Well, Mahaffy could sneer +--he would show him! This was the last ditch and he proposed to +descend into it, it was something to be able to demand the final +word of fate--but he instantly recalled that he had been playing +at hide-and-seek with inevitable consequences for something like +a quarter of a century; it had been a triumph merely to exist. +Mahaffy having eased his conscience, rolled over and promptly +went to sleep. Flat on his back, the judge stared up at the wide +blue arch of the heavens and rehearsed those promises which in +the last twenty years he had made and broken times without +number. He planned no sweeping reforms, his system of morality +being little more than a series of graceful compromises with +himself. He must not get hopelessly in debt; he must not get +helplessly drunk. Dealing candidly with his own soul in the +silence, he presently came to the belief that this might be done +without special hardship. Then suddenly the rusted name-plate on +Hannibal's old rifle danced again before his burning eyes, and a +bitter sense of hurt and loss struck through him. He saw himself +as he was, a shabby outcast, a tavern hanger-on, the utter +travesty of all he should have been; he dropped his arm across +his face. + + +The first rift of light in the sky found the judge stirring; it +found him in his usual cheerful frame of mind. He disposed of +his toilet and breakfast with the greatest expedition. + +"Will you stroll into town with me, Solomon?" he asked, when they +had eaten. Mahaffy shook his head, his air was still plainly +hostile. "Then let your prayers follow me, for I'm off!" said +the judge. + +Ten minutes' walk brought him to the door of the city tavern, +where he found Mr. Pegloe directing the activities of a small +colored boy who was mopping out his bar. To him the judge made +known his needs. + +"Goin' to locate, are you?" said Mr. Pegloe. + +"My friends urge it, sir, and I have taken the matter under +consideration," answered the judge. + +"Sho, do you know any folks hereabouts?" asked Mr. Pegloe. + +"Not many," said the judge, with reserve. + +"Well, the only empty house in town is right over yonder; it +belongs to young Charley Norton out at Thicket Point Plantation." + +Ah-h!" said the judge. + +The house Mr. Pegloe had pointed out was a small frame building; +it stood directly on the street, with a narrow porch across the +front, and a shed addition at the back. The judge scuttled over +to it. With his hands clasped under the tails of his coat he +walked twice about the building, stopping to peer in at all the +windows, then he paused and took stock of his surroundings. Over +the way was Pegloe's City Tavern; farther up the street was the +court-house, a square wooden box with a crib that housed a +cracked bell, rising from a gable end. The judge's pulse +quickened. What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr. +Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement + +He must see him at once. As he turned away to recross the street +and learn from Mr. Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be +reached, Norton himself galloped into the village. Catching +sight of the judge, he reined in. his horse and swung himself +from the saddle. + +"I was hoping, sir, I might find you," he said, as they met +before the tavern. + +"A wish I should have echoed had I been aware of it!" responded +the judge. "I was about to do myself the honor to wait upon you +at your plantation." + +"Then I have saved you a long walk," said Norton. He surveyed +the judge rather dubiously, but listened with great civility and +kindness as he explained the business that would have taken him +to Thicket Point. + +"The house is quite at your service, sir," he said, at length. + +"The rent--" began the judge. He had great natural delicacy +always in mentioning matters of a financial nature. + +But Mr. Norton, with a delicacy equal to his own, entreated him +not to mention the rent. The house had come to him as boot in a +trade. It had been occupied by a doctor and a lawyer; these +gentlemen had each decamped between two days, heavily in debt at +the stores and taverns, especially the taverns. + +"I can't honestly say they owed me, since I never expected to get +anything out of them; however, they both left some furniture, all +that was necessary for the kind of housekeeping they did, for +they were single gentlemen and drew the bulk of their nourishment +from Pegloe's bar. I'll turn the establishment over to you with +the greatest pleasure in the world, and wish you better luck than +your predecessors had --you'll offend me if you refer to the rent +again!" + +And thus handsomely did Charley Norton acquit himself of the +mission he had undertaken at Betty Malroy's request. + +That same morning Tom Ware and Captain Murrell were seated in the +small detached building at Belle Plain, known as the office, +where the former spent most of his time when not in the saddle. +Whatever the planter's vices, and he was reputed to possess a +fair working knowledge of good and evil, no one had ever charged +him with hypocrisy. His emotions lay close to the surface and +wrote themselves on his unprepossessing exterior with an +impartial touch. He had felt no pleasure when Murrell rode into +the yard, and he had welcomed him according to the dictates of +his mood, which was one of surly reticence. + +"So your sister doesn't like me, Tom--that's on your mind this +morning, is it?" Murrell was saying, as he watched his friend out +of the corner of his eyes. + +"She was mad enough, the way you pushed in on us at Boggs' +yesterday. What happened back in North Carolina, Murrell, +anyhow?" + +"Never you mind what happened." + +"Well, it's none of my business, I reckon; she'll have to look +out for herself, she's nothing to me but a pest sand a nuisance +--I've been more bothered since she came back than I've been in +years! I'd give a good deal to be rid of her," said Ware, +greatly depressed as he recalled the extraordinary demands Betty +had made. + +"Make it worth my while and I'll take her off your hands," and +Murrell laughed. + +Tom favored him with a sullen stare. + +"You'd better get rid of that notion--of all fool nonsense, this +love business is the worst! I can't see the slightest damn +difference between one good looking girl and another. I wish +every one was as sensible as I am," he lamented. "I wouldn't +miss a meal, or ten minutes' sleep, on account of any woman in +creation," and Ware shook his head. + +"So your sister doesn't like me?" + +"No, she doesn't," said Ware, with simple candor. + +"Told you to put a stop to my coming here?" + +"Not here--to the house, yes. She doesn't give a damn, so long +as she doesn't have to see you." + +Murrell, somber-faced and thoughtful, examined a crack in the +flooring. + +"I'd like to know what happened back yonder in North Carolina to +make her so blazing mad?" continued Ware. + +"Well, if you want to know, I told her I loved her." + +"That's all right, that's the fool talk girls like to hear," said +Ware. He lighted a cigar with an air of wearied patience. + +"Open the door, Tom," commanded Murrell. + +"It is close in here," agreed the planter. + +"It isn't that, but you smoke the meanest cigars I ever smelt, I +always think your shoes are on fire. Tom, do you want to get rid +of her? Did yot mean that?" + +"Oh, shut up," said Tom, dropping his voice to a surly whisper. + +There was a brief silence, during which Murrell studied his +friend's face. When he spoke, it was to give the conversation a +new direction. + +"Did she bring the boy here last night? I saw you drive off with +him in the carriage." + +"Yes, she makes a regular pet of the little ragamuffin--it's +perfectly sickening!" + +"Who were the two men with him?" + +"One of 'em calls himself judge Price; the other kept out of the +way, I didn't hear his name." + +"Is the boy going to stay at Belle Plain?" inquired Murrell. + +"That notion hasn't struck her yet, for I heard her say at +breakfast that she'd take him to Raleigh this afternoon." + +"That's the boy I traveled all the way to North Carolina to get for +Fentress. I thought I had him once, but the little cuss gave me +the slip." + +"Eh--you don't say?" cried Ware. + +"Tom, what do you know about the Quintard lands; what do you know +about Quintard himself?" continued Murrell. + +"He was a rich planter, lived in North Carolina. My father met +him when he was in congress and got him to invest in land here. +They had some colonization scheme on foot this was upward of +twenty years ago--but nothing came of it. Ouintard lost +interest." + +"And the land?" + +"Oh, he held on to that." + +"Is there much of it?" + +"A hundred thousand acres," said Ware. + +Murrell whistled softly under his breath. + +"What's it worth?" + +"A pot of money, two or three dollars an acre anyhow," answered +Ware. + +"Quintard has been dead two years, Tom, and back yonder in North +Carolina they told me he left nothing but the home plantation. +The boy lived there up to the time of Quintard's death, but what +relation he was to the old man no one knew. What do you suppose +Fentress wants with him? He offered me five thousand dollars if +I'd bring him West; and he still wants him, only he's lying low +now to see what comes of the two old sots--he don't want to move +in the dark. Offhand, Tom, I'd say that by getting hold of the +boy Fentress expects to get hold of the Quintard land." + +"That's likely," said Ware, then struck by a sudden idea, he +added, "Are you going to take all the risks and let him pocket +the cash? If it's the land he's after, the stake's big enough to +divide." + +"He can have the whole thing and welcome, I'm playing for a +bigger stake." His friend stared at him in astonishment. "I +tell you, Tom, I'm bent on getting even with the world! No +silver spoon came in the way of my mouth when I was a youngster; +my father was too honest--and I think the less of him for it!" + +Mr. Ware seemed on the whole edified by the captain's unorthodox +point of view. + +"My mother was the true grit though; she came of mountain stock, +and taught us children to steal by the time we could think! +Whatever we stole, she hid, and dared my father to touch us. I +remember the first thing of account was when I was ten years old. +A Dutch peddler came to our cabin one winter night and begged us +to take him in. Of course, he opened his pack before he left, +and almost under his nose I got away with a bolt of linen. The +old man and woman fought about it, but if the peddler discovered +his loss he had the sense not to come back and tell of it! When +I was seventeen I left home with three good horses I'd picked up; +they brought me more money than I'd ever seen before and I got my +first taste of life--that was in Nashville where I made some good +friends with whose help I soon had as pretty a trade organized in +horseflesh as any one could wish." A somber tone had crept into +Murrell's voice, while his glance had become restless and uneasy. +He went on: "I'm licking a speculation into shape that will cause +me to be remembered while there's a white man alive in the +Mississippi Valley!" His wicked black eyes were blazing coals of +fire in their deep sockets. "Have you heard what the niggers did +at Hayti?" + +"My God, John--no, I won't talk to you--and don't you think about +it! That's wrong--wrong as hell itself!" cried Ware. + +"There's no such thing as right and wrong for me. That'll do for +those who have something to lose. I was born with empty hands +and I am going to fill them where and how I can. I believe the +time has come when the niggers can be of use to me--look what +Turner did back in Virginia three years ago! If he'd had any +real purpose he could have laid the country waste, but he hadn't +brains enough to engineer a general uprising." + +Ware was probably as remote from any emotion that even vaguely +approximated right feeling as any man could well be, but +Murrell's words jarred his dull conscience, or his fear, into +giving signs of life. + +"Don't you talk of that business, we want nothing of that sort +out here. You let the niggers alone!" he said, but he could +scarcely bring himself to believe that Murrell had spoken in +earnest. Yet even if he jested, this was a forbidden subject. + +"White brains will have to think for them, if it's to be more +than a flash in the pan," said Murrell unheeding him. + +"You let the niggers alone, don't you tamper with them," said +Ware. He possessed a profound belief in Murrell's capacity. He +knew how the latter had shaped the uneasy population that +foregathered on the edge of civilization to his own ends, and +that what he had christened the Clan had become an elaborate +organization, disciplined and flexible to his ruthless will. + +"Look here, what do you think I have been working for--to steal a +few niggers?" + +"A few--you've been sending 'em south by the boatload! You ought +to be a rich man, Murrell. If you're not it's your own fault." + +"That furnishes us with money, but you can push the trade too +hard and too far, and we've about done that. The planters are +uneasy in the sections we've worked over, there's talk of getting +together to clean out everybody who can't give a good account of +himself. The Clan's got to deal a counter blow or go out of +business. It was so with the horse trade; in the end it became +mighty unhandy to move the stock we'd collected. We've reached +the same point now with the trade in niggers. Between here and +the gulf--" he made a wide sweeping gesture with his arm. "I am +spotting the country with my men; there are two thousand active +workers on the rolls of the Clan, and as many more like you, Tom +--and Fentress--on whose friendship I can rely." He leaned toward +Ware. "You'd be slow to tell me I couldn't count on you, Tom, +and you'd be slow to think I couldn't manage this thing when the +time's ripe for it!" + +But no trace of this all-sufficient sense of confidence, of which +he seemed so certain, showed on Ware's hardened visage. He spat +away the stump of his cigar. + +"Sure as God, John Murrell, you are overreaching yourself! Your +white men are all right, they've got to stick by you; if they +don't they know it's only a question of time until they get a +knife driven into their ribs--but niggers--there isn't any real +fight in a nigger, if there was they wouldn't be here." + +"Yet you couldn't have made the whites in Hayti believe that," +said Murrell, with a sinister smile. + +"Because they were no-account trash themselves!" returned Ware, +shaking his head. "We'll all go down in this muss you're fixing +for!" he added. + +"No, you won't, Tom. I'll look out for my friends. You'll be +warned in time." + +"A hell of a lot of good a warning will do!" growled Ware. + +"The business will be engineered so that you, and those like you, +will not be disturbed. Maybe the niggers will have control of +the country for a day or two in the thickly settled parts near +the towns; longer, of course, where the towns and plantations are +scattering. The end will come in the swamps and cane-brakes, and +the members of the Clan who don't get rich while the trouble is +at its worst, will have to stay poor. As for the niggers, I +expect nothing else than that they will be pretty well +exterminated. But look what that will do for men like yourself, +Tom, who will have been able to hold on to their slaves!" + +"I'd like to have some guarantee that I'd be able to; do that! +No, sir, the devils will all go whooping off to raise hell." +Ware shivered at the picture his mind had conjured up. "Well, +thank God, they're not my niggers!" he added. + +"You'd better come with me, Tom," said Murrell. + +"With you?" + +"Yes, I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself; that's a plum I'm +going to pick with the help of a few friends, and I'd cheerfully +hang for it afterward if I could destroy the city Old Hickory +saved--but I expect to quit the country in good time; with a +river full of ships I shan't lack for means of escape." His +manner was cool and decided. He possessed in an eminent degree +the egotism that makes possible great crimes and great criminals, +and his degenerate brain dealt with this colossal horror as +simply as if it had been a petty theft. + +"There's no use in trying to talk you out of this, John, but I +just want to ask you one thing: you do all you say you are going +to do, and then where in hell's name will you be safe?" + +"I'll take my chances. What have I been taking all my life but +the biggest sort of chances?--and for little enough!" + +Ware, feeling the entire uselessness of argument, uttered a +string of imprecations, and then fell silent. His acquaintance +with Murrell was of long standing. It dated back to the time +when he was growing into the management of Belle Plain. A chance +meeting with the outlaw in Memphis had developed into the closest +intimacy, and the plantation had become one of the regular +stations for the band of horse-thieves of which Murrell had +spoken. But time had wrought its changes. Tom was now in full +control of Belle Plain and its resources, and he had little heart +for such risks as he had once taken. + +"Well, how about the girl, Tom?" asked Murrell at length, in a +low even tone. + +"The girl? Oh, Betty, you mean?" said Ware, and shifted uneasily +in his seat. "Haven't you got enough on your hands without +worrying about her? She don't like you, haven't I told you that? +Think of some one else for a spell, and you'll find it answers," +he urged. + +"What do you think is going to happen here if I take your advice? +She'll marry one of these young bloods!" Ware's lips twitched. +"And then, Tom, you'll get your orders to move out, while her +husband takes over the management of her affairs. What have you +put by anyhow?--enough to stock another place?" + +"Nothing, not a damn cent!" said Ware. Murrell laughed +incredulously. "It's so! I've turned it all over--more lands, +more niggers, bigger crops each year. Another man might have +saved his little spec, but I couldn't; I reckon I never believed +it would go to her, and I've managed Belle Plain as if I were +running it for myself." He seemed to writhe as if undergoing +some acute bodily pain. + +"And you are in a fair way to turn it all over to her husband +when she marries, and step out of here a beggar, unless--" + +"It isn't right, John! I haven't had pay for my ability! Why, +the place would have gone down to nothing with any management but +mine!" + +"If she were to die, you'd inherit?" + +Ware laughed harshly. + +"She looks like dying, doesn't she?" + +"Listen to me, Tom. I'll take her away, and Belle Plain is +yours--land, stock and niggers!" said Murrell quietly. + +Ware shifted and twisted in his seat. + +"It can't be done. I can advise and urge: but I can't command. +She's got her friends, those people back yonder in North +Carolina, and if I made things uncomfortable for her here she'd +go to them and I couldn't stop her. You don't seem to get it +through your head that she's got no earthly use for you!" + +Murrell favored him with a contemptuous glance. + +"You're like every one else! Certain things you'll do, and +certain other things you won't even try to do--your conscience or +your fear gets in your way." + +"Call it what you like." + +"I offer to take the girl off your hands; when I quit the country +she shall go with me--" + +"And I'd be left here to explain what had become of her!" cried +Ware, in a panic. + +"You won't have anything to explain. She'll have disappeared, +that will be all you'll know," said Murrell quietly. + +"She'll never marry you." + +"Don't you be too sure of that. She may be glad enough to in the +end." + +"Oh, you think you are a hell of a fellow with women! Well, +maybe you are with one sort--but what do you know about her +kind?" jeered the planter. + +Murrell's brow darkened. + +"I'll manage her," he said briefly. + +"You were of some account until this took hold of you," +complained Ware. + +"What do you say? One would hardly think I was offering to make +you a present of the best plantation in west Tennessee!" said +Murrell. + +Ware seemed to suck in hope through his shut teeth. + +"I don't want to know anything about this, you are going to swamp +yourself yet--you're fixing to get yourself strung up--yes, by +thunder, that'll be your finish!" + +"Do you want the land and the niggers? I reckon you'll have to +take them whether you want them or not, for I'm going to have the +girl." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +BOB YANCY FINDS HIMSELF + + +Mr. Yancy awoke from a long dreamless sleep; heavy-lidded, his +eyes slid open. For a moment he struggled with the odds and ends +of memory, then he recalled the fight at the tavern, the sudden +murderous attack, the fierce blows Slosson had dealt him, the +knife thrust which had ended the struggle. Therefore, the +bandages that now swathed his head and shoulders; therefore, the +need that he should be up and doing--for where was Hannibal? + +He sought to lift himself on his elbow, but the effort sent +shafts of pain through him; his head seemed of vast size and +endowed with a weight he could not support. He sank back +groaning, and closed his eyes. After a little interval he opened +them again and stared about him. There was the breath of dawn in +the air; he heard a rooster crow, and the contented grunting of a +pig close at hand. He was resting under a rude shelter of poles +and bark. Presently he became aware of a slow gliding movement, +and the silvery ripple of water. Clearly he was no longer at the +tavern, and clearly some one had taken the trouble to bandage his +hurts. + +At length his eyes rolling from side to side focused themselves +on a low opening near the foot of his shakedown bed. Beyond this +opening, and at some little distance, he saw a sunbonneted woman +of a plump and comfortable presence. She was leaning against a +tub which rested on a rude bench. At her back was another bark +shanty similar to the one that sheltered himself, while on either +hand a shoreless expanse of water danced and sparkled under the +rays of the newly risen sun. As his eyes slowly took in the +scene, Yancy's astonishment mounted higher and higher. The +lady's sunbonnet quite hid her face, but he saw that she was +smoking a cob-pipe. + +He was still staring at her, when the lank figure of a man +emerged from the other shanty. This man wore a cotton shirt and +patched butternut trousers; he way hatless and shoeless, and his +hair stood out from his head in a great flaming shock. He, too, +was smoking a cob-pipe. Suddenly the man put out a long arm +which found its way about the lady's waist, an attention that +culminated in a vigorous embrace. Then releasing her, he squared +his shoulders, took a long breath, beat his chest with the flat +of his hands and uttered a cheerful whoop. The embrace, the deep +breath, and the whoop constituted Mr. Cavendish's morning +devotions, and were expressive of a spirit of thankfulness to the +risen sun, his general satisfaction with the course of +Providence, and his homage to the lady of his choice. + +Swinging about on his heel, Cavcndish passed beyond Yancy's range +of vision. Again the latter attempted to lift himself on his +elbow, but sky and water changed places before his eyes and he +dropped down on his pillow with a stifled sigh. He seemed to be +slipping back into the black night from which he had just +emerged. Again he was at Scratch Hill, again Dave Blount was +seeking to steal his nevvy--incidents of the trial and flight +recurred to him--all was confused, feverish, without sequence. + +Suddenly a shadow fell obliquely across the foot of his narrow +bed, and Cavendish, bending his long body somewhat, thrust his +head in at the opening. He found himself looking into a pair of +eyes that for the first time in many a long day held the light of +consciousness. + +"How are you, stranger?" he demanded, in a soft drawl. + +"Where am I?" the words were a whisper on Yancy's bearded lips. + +"Well, sir, you are in the Tennessee River fo' certain; my wife +will make admiration when she hears you speak. Polly! you jest +step here." + +But Polly had heard Cavendish speak, and the murmur of Yancy's +voice in reply. Now her head appeared beside her husband's, and +Yancy saw that she was rosy and smiling, and that her claim to +good looks was something that could not well be denied. + +"La, you are some better, ain't you, sir?" she cried, smiling +down on him + +"How did I get here, and where's my nevvy ?" questioned Yancy +anxiously. + +"There now, you ain't in no condition fo' to pester yo'self with +worry. You was fished up out of the Elk River by Mr. Cavendish," +Polly explained, still smiling and dimpling at him. + +"When, ma'am--last night?" + +"You got another guess coming to you, stranger!" It was +Cavendish who spoke. + +"Do you mean, sir, that I been unconscious for a spell?" +suggested Yancy rather fearfully, glancing from one to the other. + +"It's been right smart of a spell, too; yes, sir, you've laid +like you was dead, and not fo' a matter of hours either--but +days." + +"How long?" + +"Well, nigh on to three weeks." + +They saw Yancy's eyes widen with a look of dumb horror. + +"Three weeks!" he at length repeated, and groaned miserably. He +was thinking of Hannibal. + +"You was mighty droll to look at when I fished you up out of the +river," continued Mr. Cavendish. "You'd been cut and beat up +scandalous!" + +"And you don't know nothing about my nevvy?--you ain't seen or +heard of him, ma'am?" faltered Yancy, and glanced up into Polly's +comely face. + +Polly shook her head regretfully. + +"How come you in the river?" asked Cavendish. + +"I reckon I was throwed in. It was a man named Murrell and +another man named Slosson. They tried fo' to murder me--they +wanted to get my nevvy--I 'low they done it!" and Yancy groaned +again. + +"You'll get him back," said Polly soothingly. + +"Could you-all put me asho'?" inquired Yancy, with sudden +eagerness. + +"We could, but we won't," said Cavendish, in no uncertain tone. + +"Why, la!--you'd perish!" exclaimed Polly. + +"Are we far from where you-all picked me up?" + +Cavendish nodded. He did not like to tell Yancy the distance +they had traversed. + +"Where are you-all taking me?" asked Yancy. + +"Well, stranger, that's a question I can't answer offhand. The +Tennessee are a twister; mebby it will be Kentucky; mebby it will +be Illinoy, and mebby it will be down yonder on the Mississippi. +My tribe like this way of moving about, and it certainly favors a +body's legs." + +"How old was your nevvy?" inquired Polly, reading the troubled +look in Yancy's gray eyes. + +"Ten or thereabouts, ma'am. He were a heap of comfort to me" and +the whisper on Yancy's lips was wonderfully tender and wistful. + +"Just the age of my Richard," said Polly, her glance full of +compassion and pity. + +Mr. Cavendish essayed to speak, but was forced to pause and clear +his throat. The allusion to Richard in this connection having +been almost more than he could endure with equanimity. When he +was able to put his thoughts into words, he said: + +"I shore am distressed fo' you. I tried to leave you back yonder +where I found you, but no one knowed you and you looked so near +dead folks wouldn't have it. What parts do you come from?" + +"No'th Carolina. Me and my nevvy was a-goin' into west Tennessee +to a place called Belle Plain, somewhere near Memphis. We have +friends there," explained Yancy. + +"That settles it!" cried Cavendish. "It won't be Kentucky, and +it won't be Illinoy; I'll put you asho' at Memphis; mebby you'll +find yo' nevvy there after all." + +"That's the best. You lay still and get yo' strength back as +fast as you can, and try not to worry--do now." Polly"s voice +was soft and wheedling. + +"I reckon I been a heap of bother to you-all," said Yancy. + +"La, no," Polly assured him; "you ain't been." + +And now the six little Cavendishes appeared on the scene. The +pore gentleman had come to--sho! He had got his senses back +--sho! he wa'n't goin' to die after all; he could talk. Sho! a +body could hear him plain! Excited beyond measure they scurried +about in their fluttering rags of nightgowns for a sight and +hearing of the pore gentleman. They struggled madly to climb +over their parents, and failing this--under them. But the +opening that served as a door to the shanty being small, and +being as it was completely stoppered by their father and mother +who were in no mood to yield an inch, they distributed themselves +in quest of convenient holes in the bark edifice through which to +peer at the pore gentleman. And since the number of youthful +Cavendishes exceeded the number of such holes, the sound of +lamentation and recrimination presently filled the morning air. + +"I kin see the soles of his feet!" shrieked Keppel with +passionate intensity, his small bleached eye glued to a crack. + +He was instantly ravished of the sight by Henry. + +"You mean hateful thing!--just because you're bigger than Kep!" +and Constance fell on the spoiler. As her mother's right-hand +man she had cuffed and slapped her way to a place of power among +the little brothers. + +Mr. Cavendish appeared to allay hostilities. + +"I 'low I'll skin you if you don't keep still! Dress!--the whole +kit and b'ilin' of you!" he roared, and his manner was quite as +ferocious as his words. + +But the six little Cavendishes were impressed by neither. They +instantly fastened on him like so many leeches. What was the +pore gentleman saying?--why couldn't they hear, too? Then they'd +keep still, sure they would! Did he say he knowed who throwed +him in the river? + +"I wonder, Connie, you ain't able to do more with these here +children. Seems like you ought to--a great big girl like you," +said Mr. Cavendish, reduced to despair. + +"It was Henry pickin' on Kep," cried Constance. + +"I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the +legs, he did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!" wailed +Keppel, suddenly remembering he had a grievance. "You had ought +to let me see the pore gentleman!" he added ingratiatingly. + +"Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks +and upwards?--ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?" demanded +Mr. Cavendish fiercely. + +Sho--that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'--sho!--arollin' +his head sideways, sho! And their six tow heads were rolled to +illustrate their meaning. And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!--and +they plucked at Mr. Cavendish's hands. Sho--did he say why he +done that? + +"If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently +set by the pore gentleman. If you don't, I'll have to speak to +yo' mother; I 'low she'll trim you! I reckon you-all don't want +me to call her? No, by thunderation!--because you-all know she +won't stand no nonsense! She'll fan you; she'll take the flat of +her hand to you-all and make you skip some; I reckon I'd get into +my pants befo' she starts on the warpath. I wouldn't give her no +such special opportunity as you're offerin'!" Mr. Cavendish's +voice and manner had become entirely confidential and +sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to +bulk high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were +persuaded by sheer force of his logic to withdraw and dress. +Their father hurried back to Yancy. + +"I was just thinkin', sir," he said, "that if it would be any +comfort to you, we'll tie up to the bank right here and wait +until you can travel. I'm powerfully annoyed at having fetched +you all this way!" + +But Yancy shook his head. + +"I'll be glad to go on to Memphis with you. If my nevvy got away +from Murrell, that's where I'll find him. I reckon folks will be +kind to him and sort of help him along. Why, he ain't much mo' +than knee high!" + +"Shore they will! there's a lot of good in the world, so don't +you fret none about him!" cried Polly. + +"I can't do much else, ma'am, than think of him bein' lonesome +and hungry, maybe--and terribly frightened. What do you-all +suppose he thought when he woke up and found me gone?" But +neither Polly nor her husband had any opinion to venture on this +point. "If I don't find him in Memphis I'll take the back track +to No'th Carolina, stoppin' on the way to see that man Slosson." + +"Well, I 'low there's a fit comin' to him when he gets sight of +you!" and Cavendish's bleached blue eyes sparkled at the thought. + +"There's a heap mo' than a fit. I don't bear malice, but I stay +mad a long time," answered Yancy grimly: + +"You shouldn't talk no mo'," said Polly. "You must just lay +quiet and get yo' strength back. Now, I'm goin' to fix you a +good meal of vittles." She motioned Cavendish to follow her, and +they both withdrew from the shanty. + +Yancy closed his eyes, and presently, lulled by the soft ripple +that bore them company, fell into a restful sleep. + +"When he told us of his nevvy, Dick, and I got to thinkin' of his +bein' just the age of our Richard, I declare it seemed like +something got in my throat and I'd choke. Do you reckon he'll +ever find him?" said Polly, as she busied herself with +preparations for their breakfast. + +"I hope so, Polly!" said Cavendish, but her words were a powerful +assault on his feelings, which at all times lay close to the +surface and were easily stirred. + +Under stress of his emotions, he now enjoined silence on his +family, fortifying the injunction with dire threats as to the +consequences that would descend with lightning--like suddenness +on the head of the unlucky sinner who forgot and raised his voice +above a whisper. Then he despatched a chicken; sure sign that he +and Polly considered their guest had reached the first stage of +convalescence. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AN ORPHAN MAN OF TITLE + + +The raft drifted on into the day's heat; and when at last Yancy +awoke, it was to find Henry and Keppel seated beside him, each +solacing him with a small moist hand, while they regarded him out +of the serious unblinking eyes of childhood. + +"Howdy!" said he, smiling up at them. + +"Howdy!" they answered, a sociable grin puckering their freckled +faces. + +"Do you find yo'self pretty well, sir?" inquired Keppel. + +"I find myself pretty weak," replied Yancy. + +"Me and Kep has been watching fo' to keep the flies from stinging +you," explained Henry. + +"We-all takes turns doin' that," Keppel added. + +"Well, and how many of you-all are there?" asked Yancy. + +"There's six of we-uns and the baby." + +They covertly examined this big bearded man who had lost his +nevvy, and almost his life. They had overheard their father and +mother discuss his plans and knew when he was recovered from his +wounds if he did not speedily meet up with his nevvy at a place +called Memphis, he was going back to Lincoln County, which was +near where they came from, to have the hide off a gentleman of +the name of Slosson. They imagined the gentleman named Slosson +would find the operation excessively disagreeable; and that Yancy +should be recuperating for so unique an enterprise invested him +with a romantic interest. Henry squirmed closer to the recumbent +figure on the bed. + +"Me and Kep would like mighty well to know how you-all are goin' +to strip the hide offen to that gentleman's back," he observed. + +Yancy instantly surmised that the reference was to Slosson. + +"I reckon I'll feel obliged to just naturally skin him," he +explained. + +"Sho', will he let you do that?" they demanded. + +"He won't be consulted none. And his hide will come off easy +once I get hold of him by the scruff of the neck." Yancy's +speech was gentle and his lips smiling, but he meant a fair share +of what he said. + +"Sho', is that the way you do it?" And round-eyed they gazed +down on this fascinating stranger. + +"I may have to touch him up with a tickler," continued Yancy, who +did not wish to prove disappointing. "I reckon you-all know what +a tickler is?" + +They nodded. + +"What if Mr. Slosson totes a tickler, too?" asked Keppel +insinuatingly. This opened an inviting field for conjecture. + +"That won't make no manner of difference. Why? Because it's a +powerful drawback fo' a man to know he's in the wrong, just as +it's a heap in yo' favor to know you're in the right." + +"My father's got a tickler; I seen it often," vouchsafed Henry. + +"It's a foot long, with a buck horn handle. Gee whiz!--he keeps +it keen; but he never uses it on no humans," said Keppel. + +"Of course he don't; he's a high-spirited, right-actin' +gentleman. But what do you reckon he'd feel obliged to do if a +body stole one of you-all?" inquired Yancy. + +"Whoop! He'd carve 'em deep!" cried Keppel. + +At this moment Mrs. Cavendish appeared, bringing Yancy's +breakfast. In her wake came Connie with the baby, and the three +little brothers who were to be accorded the cherished privilege +of seeing the poor gentleman eat. + +"You got a nice little family, ma'am," said Yancy. + +"Well, I reckon nobody complains mo' about their children than +me, but I reckon nobody gets mo' comfort out of their children +either. I hope you-all are a-goin' to be able to eat, you ain't +had much nourishment. La, does yo' shoulder pain you like that? +Want I should feed you?" + +"I am sorry, ma'am, but I reckon you'll have to," Yancy spoke +regretfully. "I expect I been a passel of bother to you." + +"No, you ain't. Here's Dick to see how you make out with the +chicken," Polly added, as Cavendish presented himself at the +opening that did duty as a door. + +"This looks like bein' alive, stranger," he commented genially. +He surveyed the group of which Yancy was the center. "If them +children gets too numerous, just throw 'em out." + +"You-all ain't told me yo' name yet?" said Yancy. + +"It's Cavendish. Richard Keppel Cavendish, to get it all off my +mind at a mouthful. And this lady's Mrs. Cavendish." + +"My name's Yancy--Bob Yancy." + +Mr. Cavendish exchanged glances with Mrs. Cavendish. By a nod +of her dimpled chin the lady seemed to urge some more extended +confidence on his part. Chills and Fever seated himself at the +foot of Yancy's bed. + +"Stranger, what I'm a-goin' to tell you, you'll take as bein' +said man to man," he began, with the impressive air of one who +had a secret of great moment to impart; and Yancy hastened to +assure him that whatever passed between them, his lips should be +sealed. "It ain't really that, but I don't wish to appear proud +afo' no man's, eyes. First, I want to ask you, did you ever hear +tell of titles?" + +Polly and the children hung breathlessly on Mr. Yancy's reply. + +"I certainly have," he rejoined promptly. "Back in No'th +Carolina we went by the chimneys." + +"Chimneys? What's chimneys got to do with titles, Mr. Yancy?" +asked Polly, while her husband appeared profoundly mystified. + +"A whole lot, ma'am. If a man had two chimneys to his house we +always called him Colonel, if there was four chimneys we called +him General." + +"La!" cried Polly, smiling and showing a number of new dimples. +"Dick don't mean militia titles, Mr. Yancy." + +"Them's the only ones I know anything of," confessed Yancy. + +"Ever hear tell of lords?" inquired Chills and Fever, tilting his +head on one side. + +"No." And Yancy was quick to notice the look of disappointment +on the faces of his new friends. He felt that for some reason, +which was by no means clear to him, he had lost caste. + +"Are you ever heard of royalty?" and Cavendish fixed the +invalid's wandering glance. + +"You mean kings?" + +"I shore do." + +Yancy regarded him reflectively and made a mighty mental effort. + +"There's them Bible kings--" he ventured at length. + +Mr. Cavendish shook his head. + +"Them's sacred kings. Are you familiar with any of the profane +kings, Mr. Yancy?" + +"Well, taking them as they come, them Bible kings seemed to +average pretty profane." Yancy was disposed to defend this +point. + +"You must a heard of the kings of England. Sho', wa'n't any of +yo' folks in the war agin' him?" + +"I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!" +exclaimed Yancy. The Cavendishes were immensely relieved. Polly +beamed on the invalid, and the children hunched closer. Six +pairs of eager lips were trembling on the verge of speech. + +"Now you-all keep still," said Cavendish. "I want Mr. Yancy +should get the straight of this here! The various orders of +royalty are kings, dukes, earls and lords. Earls is the third +from the top of the heap, but lords ain't no slouch; it's a right +neat little title, and them that has it can turn round in most +any company." + +"Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself," cried Polly +exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter +came from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully +silent for them. + +"Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth! 'Sho', that +was what he was! Sho'!" and some transient feeling of awe +stamped itself upon their small faces as they viewed the long and +limber figure of their parent. + +"Is that mo' than a Colonel?" Yancy risked the question +hesitatingly, but he felt that speech was expected from him. + +"Yes," said the possessor of the title. + +"Would a General lay it over you any?" + +"No, sir, he wouldn't." + +Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever. + +"Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly +between Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all +kinds of folks; but I never seen an earl afo. I take it they are +some scarce." + +"They are. I don't reckon there's another one but me in the +whole United States." + +"Think of that!" gasped Yancy. + +"We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a +man's a born gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be +grateful but none to brag," said Cavendish. + +"Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes. +Once they get into a family they stick," explained Polly. + +"I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes." Yancy was +glad to plant his feet on familiar ground. + +"These here titles go to the eldest son. He begins by bein' a +viscount," continued Chills and Fever. He wished Yancy to know +the full measure of their splendor. + +"And their wives are ladies-ain't they, Dick?" + +Cavendish nodded. + +"Anybody with half an eye would know you was a lady, ma'am," said +Yancy. + +"Kep here is an Honorable, same as a senator or a congressman," +Cavendish went on. + +"At his age, too!" commented Yancy. + +"And my daughter's the Lady Constance," said Polly. + +"Havin' such a mother she ain't no choice," observed Yancy, with +an air of gentle deference. + +"Dick's got the family, Mr. Yancy. My folks, the Rhetts, was +plain people." + +"Some of 'em ain't so noticeably plain, either," said Yancy. + +"Sho', you've a heap of good sense, Mr. Yancy!" and Cavendish +shook him warmly by the hand. "The first time I ever seen her, I +says, I'll marry that lady if it takes an arm! Well, it did most +of the time while I was co'tin' her." + +"La!" cried Polly, blushing furiously. "You shouldn't tell that, +Dick. Mr. Yancy ain't interested." + +"Yes, sir, I'd been hearin' about old man Rhett's Polly fo' +considerable of a spell," said Cavendish, looking at Polly +reflectively. "He lived up at the head waters of the Elk River. +Fellows who had been to his place, when girls was mentioned would +sort of shake their heads sad-like and say, 'Yes, but you had +ought to see old man Rhett's Polly, all the rest is imitations!' +Seemed like they couldn't get her off their minds. So I just +slung my kit to my back, shouldered my rifle, and hoofed it +up-stream. I says, I'll see for myself where this here paragon +lays it all over the rest of her sect, but sho--the closter I +came to old man Rhett the mo' I heard of Polly!" + +"Dick, how you do run on," cried Polly protestingly, but Chills +and Fever's knightly soul dwelt in its illusions, and the years +had not made stale his romance. Also Polly was beaming on him +with a wealth of affection. + +"I seen her fo' the first time as I was warmin' the trail within +a mile of old man Rhett's. She was carrying a grist of co'n down +to the mill in her father's ox cart. When I clapped eyes on her +I says, 'I'll marry that lady. I'll make her the Countess of +Lambeth--she'll shore do fo' the peerage any day!' That was yo' +mommy, sneezic's!" Mr. Cavendish paused to address himself to +the baby whom Connie had relinquished to him. + +"You bet I made time the rest of the way. I says, 'She's sixteen +if she's a day, and all looks!' I broke into old man Rhett's +clearin' on a keen run. He was a settin' afo' his do' smokin' +his pipe and he glanced me over kind of weary-like and says, +'Howdy!' It wa'n't much of a greetin' the way he said it either; +but I figured it was some better than bein' chased off the place. +So I stepped indo's, stood my rifle in a corner and hung up my +cap. He was watchin' me and presently he drawled out, 'Make +yo'self perfectly at home, stranger.' + +"I says, 'Squire'--he wa'n't a squire, but they called him that +--I says, 'Squire, my name's Cavendish. Let's get acquainted +quick. I'm here fo' to co'te yo' Polly. I seen her on the road +a spell back and I couldn't be better suited.' + +"He says, 'You had ought to be kivered up in salt, young man, +else yo'll spile in this climate.' + +"I says, 'I'll keep in any climate.' + +'He says, 'Polly ain't givin' her thoughts much to marryin', +she's busy keepin' house fo' her pore old father.' + +"I says, 'I've come here special fo' to arouse them thoughts you +mention. If I seem slow ' + +"He says, 'You don't. If this is yo' idea of bein' slow, I'd +wish to avoid you when you was in a hurry.' + +"I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable +blessin' fo' us.' + +"He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full. There's a number of young +fellows hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of +freshness or looks.' + +"I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?' + +"He says, 'Nope, she don't. Ain't I been tellin' you she's +givin' her mind to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?' + +"I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must +disencourage 'em. I 'low she gets my help in that.' + +"He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr. +Cavendish, you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.' + +"I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they +try that!' + +"He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be +sent back to yo' folks?' + +"I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you +can leave me lay if it cones to that.' + +"'Well,'. he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good +as got you."' Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence. It was +plain that these were cherished memories. + +"That's what I call co'tin!" remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction. + +The Earl of Lambeth resumed + +"It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was. Sundays his do'yard +looked like a militia muster. They told it on him that he hadn't +cut a stick of wood since Polly was risin' twelve. I reckon, +without exaggeration, I fit every unmarried man in that end of +the county, and two lookin' widowers from Nashville. I served +notice on to them that I'd attend to that woodpile of old man +Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying fo' to be his +son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider. I took +'em on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em +all over the place. As fo' the Nashville widowers," said +Cavendish with a chuckle, and a nod to Polly, "I pretty nigh +drownded one of 'em in the Elk. We met in mid-stream and fit it +out there; and the other quit the county. That was fo'teen years +ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over again to-morrow." + +"But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title," +expostulated Polly. + +"I'd admire to hear mo' about that," said Yancy. + +"I'm gettin' round to that. It was my great grandfather come +over here from England. His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, +same as mine is. He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and +went to raisin' tobacco. I've heard my grandfather tell how he'd +heard folks say his father was always hintin' in his licker that +he was a heap better than he seemed, and if people only knowed +the truth about him they'd respect him mo', and mebby treat him +better. Well, sir, he married and riz a family; there was my +grandfather and a passel of girls--and that crop of children was +the only decent crop he ever riz. I've heard my grandfather tell +how, when he got old enough to notice such things, he seen that +his father had the look of a man with something mysterious +hangin' over him, but he couldn't make it out what it was, though +he gave it a heap of study. He seen, too, that let him get a +taste of licker and he'd begin to throw out them hints, how if +folks only knowed the truth they'd be just naturally fallin' over +themselves fo' to do him a favor, instead of pickin' on him and +tryin' to down him. + +"My grandfather said he never knowed a man, either, with the same +aversion agin labor as his father had. Folks put it down to +laziness, but they misjudged him, as come out later, yet he never +let on. He just went around sorrowful-like, and when there was a +piece of work fo' him to do he'd spend a heap of time studyin' +it, or mebby he'd just set and look at it until he was ready fo' +to give it up. Appeared like he couldn't bring himself down to +toil. + +"Then one day he got his hands on a paper that had come acrost in +a ship from England. He was readin' it, settin' in the shade; my +grandfather said he always noticed he was partial to the shade, +and his wife was pesterin' of him fo' to go and plow out his +truck-patch, when, all at once, he lit on something in the paper, +and he started up and let out a yell like he'd been shot. 'By +gum, I'm the Earl of Lambeth!' he says, and took out to the +nearest tavern and got b'ilin' full. Afterward he showed 'em the +paper and they seen with their own eyes where Richard Keppel +Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth, had died in London. My great +grandfather told 'em that was his uncle; that when he left home +there was several cousins--which was printed in the paper, too +--but they'd up and died, so the title naturally come to him. + +"Well, sir, that was the first the family ever knowed of it, and +then they seen what it was he'd meant when he throwed out them +hints about bein' a heap better than he seemed. He said perhaps +he wouldn't never have told, only he couldn't bear to be +misjudged like he'd always been. + +"He never done a lick of work after that. He said he couldn't +bring himself down to it; that it was demeanin' fo' a person of +title fo' to labor with his hands like a nigger or a common white +man. He said he'd leave it to his family to see he didn't come +to want, it didn't so much matter about them; and he lived true +to his principles to the day of his death, and never riz his hand +except to feed himself." + +Cavendish paused. Yancy was feeling that in his own person he +had experienced some of the best symptoms of a title. + +"Then what?" he asked. + +"Well, sir, he lived along like that, never complainin', my +grandfather said, but mighty sweet and gentlelike as long as +there was plenty to eat in the house. He lived to be nigh +eighty, and when he seen he was goin' to die he called my +grandfather to him and says, 'She's yours, Dick,'--meanin' the +title--and then he says, 'There's one thing I've kep' from you. +You've been a viscount ever since I come into the title, and then +he went on and explained what he wanted cut on his tombstone, and +had my grandfather write it out, so there couldn't be any +mistake. When he'd passed away, my grandfather took the title. +He said it made him feel mighty solemn and grand-like, and it +come over him all at once why it was his father hadn't no heart +fo' work." + +"Does it always take 'em that way?" inquired Yancy. + +"It takes the Earls of Lambeth that way. I reckon you might say +it was hereditary with 'em. Where was I at?" + +"Your grandpap, the second earl," prompted Polly. + +"Oh, yes--well, he 'lowed he'd emigrate back to England, but +while he was studying how he could do this, along come the war. +He said he couldn't afford to fight agin his king, so he pulled +out and crossed the mountings to avoid being drug into the army. +He said he couldn't let it get around that the Earls of Lambeth +was shootin' English soldiers." + +"Of course he couldn't," agreed Yancy. + +"It's been my dream to take Polly and the children and go back to +England and see the king about my title. I 'low he'd be some +surprised to see us. I'd like to tell him, too, what the Earls +of Lambeth done fo' him--that they was always loyal, and thought +a heap better of him than their neighbors done, and mebby some +better than he deserved. Don't you reckon that not hearin' from +us, he's got the notion the Cavendishes has petered out?" + +Mr. Yancy considered this likely, and said so. + +"You might send him writin' in a letter," he suggested. + +The furious shrieking of a steam-packet's whistle broke in upon +them. + +"It's another of them hawgs, wantin' all the river!" said Mr. +Cavendish, and fled in haste to the steering oar. + +During all the long days that followed, Mr. Yancy was forced to +own that these titled friends of his were, despite their social +position, uncommon white in their treatment of him. The Earl of +Lambeth consorted with him in that fine spirit that recognizes +the essential brotherhood of man, while his Lady Countess was, as +Yancy observed, on the whole, a person of simple and uncorrupted +tastes. She habitually went barefoot, both as a matter of +comfort and economy, and she smoked her cob-pipe as did those +other ladies of Lincoln County who had married into far less +exalted stations than her own. He put these simple survivals +down to her native goodness of heart, which would not allow of +her succumbing to mere pride and vainglory, for he no more +doubted their narrative than they, doubted it themselves, which +was not at all. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE JUDGE SEES A GHOST + + +Charley Norton's good offices did not end when he had furnished +judge Price with a house, for Betty required of him that he +should supply that gentleman with legal business as well. When +she pointed out the necessity of this, Norton demurred. He had +no very urgent need of a lawyer, and had the need existed, Slocum +Price would not have been his choice. Betty knit her brows. + +"He must have a chance; perhaps if people knew you employed him +it would give them confidence--you must realize this, Charley; it +isn't enough that he has a house--he can't wear it nor eat it!" + +"And fortunately he can't drink it, either. I don't want to +discourage you, but his looks are all against him, Betty. If you +take too great an interest in his concerns I am afraid you are +going to have him permanently on your hands." + +"Haven't you some little scrap of business that really doesn't +matter much, Charley? You might try him--just to please me--" +she persisted coaxingly. + +"Well, there's land I'm buying--I suppose I could get him to look +up the title, I know it's all right anyhow," said Norton, after a +pause. + +Thus it happened that judge Price, before he had been three days +in Raleigh, received a civil note from Mr. Norton asking him to +search the title to a certain timber tract held by one Joseph +Quaid; a communication the effect of which was out of all +proportion to the size of the fee involved. The judge, +powerfully excited, told Mahaffy he was being understood and +appreciated; that the tide of prosperity was clearly setting his +way; that intelligent foresight, not chance, had determined him +when he selected Raleigh instead of Memphis. Thereafter he spoke +of Charley Norton only as "My client," and exalted him for his +breeding, wealth and position, refusing to admit that any man in +the county was held in quite the same esteem. All of which moved +Mahaffy to flashes of grim sarcasm. + +The immediate result of Norton's communication had been to send +the judge up the street to the courthouse. He would show his +client that he could be punctual and painstaking. He should have +his abstract of title without delay; moreover, he had in mind a +scholarly effort entirely worthy of himself. The dull facts +should be illuminated with an occasional striking phrase. He +considered that it would doubtless be of interest to Mr. Norton, +in this connection, to know something, too, of mediaeval land +tenure, ancient Roman and modern English. He proposed artfully +to pander to his client's literary tastes--assuming that he had +such tastes. But above all, this abstract must be entirely +explanatory of himself, since its final purpose was to remove +whatever doubts his mere appearance might have bred in Mr. +Norton's mind. + +"If my pocket could just be brought to stand the strain of new +clothes before the next sitting of court, I might reasonably hope +for a share of the pickings," thought the judge. + +Entering the court-house, he found himself in a narrow hall. On +his right was the jury-room, and on his left the county clerk's +office, stuffy little holes, each lighted by a single window. +Beyond, and occupying the full width of the building, was the +court-room, with its hard, wooden benches and its staring white +walls. Advancing to the door, which stood open, the judge +surveyed the room with the greatest possible satisfaction. He +could fancy it echoing to that eloquence of which he felt himself +to be the master. He would show the world, yet, what was in him, +and especially Solomon Mahaffy, who clearly had not taken his +measure. + +Turning away from the agreeable picture his mind had conjured up, +he entered the county clerk's office. He was already known to +this official, whose name was Saul, and he now greeted him with a +pleasant air of patronage. Mr. Saul removed his feet from the +top of his desk and motioned his visitor to a chair; at the same +time he hospitably thrust forward a square box filled with +sawdust. It was plain he labored under the impression that the +judge's call was of an unprofessional character. + +"A little matter of business brings me here, sir," began the +judge, with a swelling chest and mellow accents. "No, sir, I'll +not be seated--another time I'll share your leisure if I may--now +I am in some haste to look up a title for my client, Mr. Norton." + +"What Norton?" asked Mr. Saul, when he had somewhat recovered +from the effect of this announcement. + +"Mr. Charles Norton, of Thicket Point," said the judge. + +"I reckon you mean that timber tract of old Joe Quaid's." Mr. +Saul viewed the judge's ruinous exterior with a glance of +respectful awe, for clearly a man who could triumph over such a +handicap must possess uncommon merit of some sort. "So you're +looking after Charley Norton's business for him, are you?" he +added. + +"He's a client of mine. We have mutual friends, sir--I refer to +Miss Malroy," the judge vouchsafed to explain. + +"You're naming our best people, sir, when you name the Malroys +and the Nortons; they are pretty much in a class by themselves," +said Mr. Saul, whose awe of the judge was momentarily increasing. + +"I don't underestimate the value of a social endorsement, sir, +but I've never stood on that," observed the judge. "I've come +amongst you unheralded, but I expect you to find me out. Now, +sir, if you'll be good enough, I'll glance at the record." + +Mr. Saul scrambled up out of the depths of his chair and exerted +himself in the judge's behalf. + +"This is what you want, sir. Better take the ledger to the +window, the light in here ain't much." He drew forward a chair +as he spoke, and the judge, seating himself, began to polish his +spectacles with great deliberation. He felt that he had reached +a crisis in his career, and was disposed to linger over the hope +that was springing up in his heart. + +"How does the docket for the next term of court stand?" he +inquired. + +"Pretty fair, sir," said Mr. Saul. + +"Any litigation of unusual interest in prospect?" The judge was +fitting his glasses to the generous arch of his nose, a feature +which nicely indexed its owner's habits. + +"No, sir, just the ordinary run of cases." + +"I hoped to hear you say different." + +"You've set on the bench, sir?" suggested Mr. Saul. + +"In one of the eastern counties, but my inclination has never +been toward the judiciary. My temperament, sir, is distinctly +aggressive--and each one according to the gifts with which God +has been graciously pleased to endow him! I am frank to say, +however, that my decisions have received their meed of praise +from men thoroughly competent to speak on such matters." He was +turning the leaves of the ledger as he spoke. Suddenly the +movement of his hand was arrested. + +"Found it?" asked Mr. Saul. But the judge gave him no answer; +absorbed and aloof he was staring down at the open pages of the +book. "Found the entry?" repeated Mr. Saul. + +"Eh?--what's that? No--" he appeared to hesitate. "Who is this +man Quintard?" The question cost him an effort, that was plain. + +"He's the owner of a hundred-thousand-acre tract in this and +abutting counties," said Mr. Saul. + +The judge continued to stare down at the page. + +"Is he a resident of the county?" he asked, at length. + +"No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina." + +"A hundred thousand acres!" the judge muttered thoughtfully. + +"There or thereabouts--yes, sir." + +"Who has charge of the land?" + +"Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner. I've +heard it was the general who got this man Quintard to make the +investment, but that was before my time in these parts." + +The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence. + +A step sounded in the narrow hall. An instant later the door was +pushed open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve +to take Mr. Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly +turned his back on the clerk and began to examine the record +before him. Engrossed in this, he was at first scarcely aware of +the conversation that was being carried on within a few feet of +him. Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones of the voice +that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat of his +pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years +to a day from which he reckoned time. The heavy, calf-bound +volume in his hand shook like a leaf in a gale. He turned +slowly, as if in dread of what he might see. + +What he saw was a man verging on sixty, lean and dark, with thin, +shaven cheeks of a bluish cast above the jaw, and a strongly +aquiline profile. Long, black locks swept the collar of his +coat, while his tall, spare figure was habited in sleek +broadcloth and spotless linen. For a moment the judge seemed to +struggle with doubt and uncertainty, then his face went a ghastly +white and the book slipped from his nerveless fingers to the +window ledge. + +The stranger, his business concluded, swung about on his heel and +quitted the office. The judge, his eyes starting from their +sockets, stared after him; the very breath died on his lips; +speechless and motionless, he was still seeing that tall, spare +figure as it had passed before him, but his memories stripped a +weight of thirty years from those thin shoulders. At last, +heavy-eyed and somber, he glanced about him. Mr. Saul, bending +above his desk, was making an entry in one of his ledgers. The +judge shuffled to his side. + +"Who was that man?" he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on +the clerk's arm. + +"That?--Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you +about." He looked up from his writing. "Hello! You look like +you'd seen a ghost!" + +"It's the heat in here--I reckon--" said the judge, and began to +mop his face. + +"Ever seen the colonel before?" asked Mr. Saul curiously. + +"Who is he?" + +"Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine +lawyer." + +"Has he always lived here?" + +"No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a +place called The Oaks, over toward the river." + +"Has he--has he a family?" The judge appeared to be having +difficulty with his speech. + +"Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others +again say he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the +colonel is as close as wax about his own affairs. So it's pure +conjecture, sir." There was a brief silence. "The county has +its conundrums, and the colonel's one of them," resumed Mr. Saul. + +"Yes?" said the judge. + +"The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much +with the real quality." + +"Why not?" asked the judge. + +"He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with +anywhere; polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you +tried to take hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a +horsethief or counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's +always first choice for counsel." + +"Get's 'em off, does he?" The judge spoke somewhat grimly. + +"Mighty nigh always. But then he has most astonishing luck in +the matter of witnesses. That's been commented on too." The +judge nodded comprehendingly. "I reckon you'd call Tom Ware, out +at Belle Plain, one of Fentress' closest friends. He's another +of your conundrums. I wouldn't advise you to be too curious +about the colonel." + +"Why not?" The judge was frowning now. + +"It will make you unpopular with a certain class. Those of us +who've been here long enough have learned that there are some of +these conundrums we'd best not ask an answer for." + +The judge pondered this. + +"Do you mean to tell me, sir, that freedom of speech is not +allowed?" he demanded, with some show of heat. + +"Perfect freedom, if you pick and choose your topic," responded +Mr. Saul. + +"Humph!" ejaculated the judge. + +"Now you might talk to me with all the freedom you like, but I'd +recommend you were cautious with strangers. There have been +those who've talked freely that have been advised to keep still +or harm would come of it." + +"And did harm come of it?" asked the judge. + +"They always kept still." + +"What do you mean by talking freely?" + +"Like asking how so and so got the money to buy his last batch of +niggers," explained Mr. Saul rather vaguely. + +"And Colonel Fentress is one of those about whose affairs it is +best not to show too much curiosity?" + +"He is, decidedly. His friends appear to set a heap by him. +Another of his particular intimates is a gentleman by the name of +Murrell." + +The judge nodded. + +"I've met him," he said briefly. "Does he belong hereabouts?" + +"No, hardly; he seems to hold a sort of roving commission. His +home is, I believe, near Denmark, in Madison County." + +"What's his antecedents?" + +"He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he +appears to stand well with Colonel Fentress." + +"Colonel Fentress!" The judge spat in sheer disgust. + +"You don't appear to fancy the colonel--" said Mr. Saul. + +"I don't fancy wearing a gag--and damned if I do!" cried the +judge. + +"Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business. +I reckon you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin' +ca'mly on attending strictly to your own affairs, sir," concluded +Mr. Saul. + +Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door. The +business and the hope that had brought him there were forgotten. +He muttered something about returning later, and hastily quitted +the office. + +"Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!" reflected Mr. Saul, as the +door swung shut. + +In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed. He +was busy with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate +waste of years in which he had walked from shame to shame, each +blacker than the last. Then passion shook him. + +"Damn him--may God-for ever damn him 1" he cried under his +breath, in a fierce whisper. +A burning mist before his eyes, he shuffled down the hall, down +the steps, and into the shaded, trampled space that was known as +the court-house yard. Here he paused irresolutely. Across the +way was the gun-maker's shop, the weather-beaten sign came within +range of his vision, and the dingy white letters on their black +ground spelled themselves out. The words seemed to carry some +message, for the judge, with his eyes fixed on the sign as on +some beacon of hope, plunged across the dusty road and entered +the shop. + + +At supper that night it was plain to both Mr. Mahaffy and +Hannibal that the judge was in a state of mind best described as +beatific. The tenderest consideration, the gentlest courtesy +flowed from him as from an unfailing spring; not that he was +ever, even in his darkest hours, socially remiss, but there was +now a special magnificence to his manner that bred suspicion in +Mahaffy's soul. When he noted that the judge's shoes were +extremely dusty, this suspicion shaped itself definitely. He was +convinced that on the strength of his prospective fee the judge +had gone to Belle Plain, for what purpose Mr. Mahaffy knew only +too well. + +"It took you some time to get up that abstract, didn't it, +Price?" he presently said, with artful indirection. + +"I shall go on with that in the morning, Solomon; my interest was +dissipated this evening," rejoined the judge. + +"Looks as though you had devoted a good part of your time to +pedestrianism," suggested Mahaffy. + +"Quite right, so I did, Solomon." + +"Were you at Belle Plain?" demanded Mahaffy harshly and with a +black scowl. The judge had agreed to keep away from Belle Plain. + +"No, Solomon, you forget our pact." + +"Well, I am glad you remembered it." + +They finished supper, the dishes were cleared away and the +candles lighted, when the judge produced a mysterious +leather-covered case. This he placed upon the table and opened, +and Mahaffy and Hannibal, who had drawn near, saw with much +astonishment that it held a handsome pair of dueling pistols, +together with all their necessary paraphernalia. + +"Where did you get 'em, Judge?--Oh, ain't they beautiful!" cried +Hannibal, circling about the table in his excitement. + +"My dear lad, they were purchased only a few hours ago," said the +judge quietly, as he began to load them. + +"For Heaven's sake, Price, do be careful!" warned Mahaffy, who +had a horror of pistols that extended to no other species of +firearm. + +"I shall observe all proper caution, Solomon," the judge assured +him sweetly. + +"Judge, may I try 'em some day?" asked Hannibal. + +"Yes, my boy, that's part of a gentleman's education." + +"Well, look out you don't shoot him before his education begins," +snapped Mahaffy. + +"Where did you buy 'em?" Hannibal was dodging about the judge, +the better to follow the operation of loading. + +"At the gunsmith's, dear lad. It occurred to me that we required +small arms. If you'll stand quietly at my elbow and not hop +around, you'll relieve Mr. Mahaffy's apprehension." + +"I declare, Price, you need a guardian, if ever a man did!" cried +Mahaffy, in a tone of utter exasperation. + +"Why, Solomon?" + +"Why?--they are absolutely useless. It was a waste of good money +that you'll be sorry about." + +"Bless you, Solomon--they ain't paid for!" said the judge, with a +thick little chuckle. + +"I didn't do you the injustice to suppose they were; but you +haven't any head for business; aren't you just that much nearer +the time when not a soul here will trust you? That's just like +you, to plunge ahead and use up your credit on gimcracks!" +Mahaffy prided himself on his acquaintance with the basic +principles of economics. + +"I can sell 'em again," observed the judge placidly. + +"For less than half what they are worth!--I never knew so poor a +manager!" + +The pistols were soon loaded, and the judge turned to Hannibal. +"I regretted that you were not with me out at Boggs' this +evening, Hannibal; you would have enjoyed seeing me try these +weapons there. Now carry a candle into the kitchen and place it +on the table." + +Mahaffy laughed contemptuously, but was relieved to know the +purpose to which the judge had devoted the afternoon. + +"What aspersion is rankling for utterance within you now, +Solomon?" said the judge tolerantly. Assuming a position that +gave him an unobstructed view across the two rooms, he raised the +pistol in his hand and discharged it in that brief instant when +he caught the candle's flame between the notches of the sight, +but he failed to snuff the candle, and a look of bitter +disappointment passed over his face. He picked up the other +pistol. "This time--" he muttered under his breath. + +"Try blowing it out try the snuffers!" jeered Mahaffy. + +"This time!" repeated the judge, unheeding him, and as the +pistol-shot rang out the light vanished. "By Heaven, I did it!" +roared the judge, giving way to an uncontrollable burst of +feeling. "I did it--and I can 'do it again--light the candle, +Hannibal!" + +He began to load the pistols afresh with feverish haste, and +Mahaffy, staring at him in amazement, saw that of a sudden the +sweat was dripping from him. But the judge's excitement +prevented his attempting another shot at once, twice his hand was +raised, twice it was lowered, the third time the pistol cracked +and the candle's flame was blown level, fluttered for a brief +instant, and went out. + +"Did I nick the tallow, Hannibal?" The judge spoke anxiously. + +"Yes, sir, both shots." + +"We must remedy that," said the judge. Then, as rapidly as he +could load and fire, bullet after bullet was sent fairly through +the flame, extinguishing it each time. Mahaffy was too +astonished at this display of skill even to comment, while +Hannibal's delight knew no bounds. "That will do!" said the +judge at last. He glanced down at the pistol in his hand. "This +is certainly a gentleman's weapon!" he murmured. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE WARNING + + +Norton had ridden down to Belle Plain ostensibly to view certain +of those improvements that went so far toward embittering Tom +Ware's existence. Gossip had it that he kept the road hot +between the two places, and this was an added strain on the +planter. But Norton did not go to Belle Plain to see Mr. Ware. +If that gentleman had been the sole attraction, he would have +made just one visit suffice; had it preceded his own, he would +have attended Tom's funeral, and considered that he had done a +very decent thing. On the present occasion he and Betty were +strolling about the rehabilitated grounds, and Norton was +exhibiting that interest and enthusiasm which Betty always +expected of him. + +"You are certainly making the old place look up!" he said, as +they passed out upon the terrace. He had noted casually when he +rode up the lane half an hour before that a horse was tied near +Ware's office; a man now issued from the building and swung +himself into the saddle. Norton turned abruptly to Betty. +"What's that fellow doing here?" he asked. + +"I suppose he comes to see Tom," said Betty. + +"Is he here often?" + +"Every day or so." Betty's tone was indifferent. For reasons +which had seemed good and sufficient she had never discussed +Captain Murrell with Norton. + +"Every day or so?" repeated Norton. "But you don't see him, +Betty?" + +"No, of course I don't." + +"Tom has no business allowing that fellow around; if he don't +know this some one ought to tell him!" Norton was working +himself up into a fine rage. + +"He doesn't bother me, Charley, if that's what you're thinking +of. Let's talk of something else." + +"He'd better not, or I'll make it a quarrel with him." + +"Oh, you mustn't think of that, Charley, indeed you mustn't!" +cried Betty in some alarm, for young Mr. Norton was both +impulsive and hot-headed. + +"Well, just how often is Murrell here?" he demanded. + +"I told you--every few days. He and Tom seem wonderfully +congenial." + +They were silent for a moment. + +"Tom always sees him in his office," explained Betty. She might +have made her explanation fuller on this point had she cared to +do so. + +"That's the first decent thing I ever heard of Tom!" said Norton +with warmth. "But he ought to kick him off the place the first +chance he gets." + +"Do you think Belle Plain is ever going to look as it did, +Charley?--as we remember it when we were children?" asked Betty, +giving a new direction to the conversation. + +"Why, of course it is, dear, you are doing wonders!" + +"I've really been ashamed of the place, the way it looked--and I +can't understand Tom!" + +"Don't try to," advised Norton. "Look here, Betty, do you +remember it was right on this terrace I met you for the first +time? My mother brought me down, and I arrived with a strong +prejudice against you, young lady, because of the clothes I'd +been put into--they were fine but oppressive." + +"How long did the prejudice last, Charley?" + +"It didn't last at a11, I thought you altogether the nicest +little girl I'd ever seen--just what I think now, I wish you +could care for me, Betty, just a little; just enough to marry +me." + +"But, Charley, I do care for you! I'm very, very fond of you." + +"Well, don't make such a merit of it," he said, and they both +laughed. "I'm at an awful disadvantage, Betty, from having +proposed so often. That gives it a humorous touch which doesn't +properly reflect the state of my feeling at all--and you hear me +without the least emotion; so long as I keep my distance we might +just as well be discussing the weather!" + +"You are very good about that--" + +"Keeping my distance, you mean?--Betty, if you knew how much +resolution that calls for! I wonder if that isn't my mistake--" +And Norton came a step nearer and took her in his arms. + +With her hands on his shoulders Betty pushed him back, while the +rich color came into her cheeks. She was remembering Bruce +Carrington, who had not kept his distance. + +"Please, Charley," she said half angrily, "I do like you +tremendously, but I simply can't bear you when you act like this +--let me got" + +"Betty, I despair of you ever caring for me!" and as Norton +turned abruptly away he saw Tom Ware appear from about a corner +of the house. "Oh, hang it, there's Tom!" + +"You are very nice, anyway, Charley--" said Betty hurriedly, +fortified by the planter's approach. + +Ware stalked toward them. Having dined with Betty as recently as +the day before, he contented himself with a nod in her direction. +His greeting to Norton was a more ambitious undertaking; he said +he was pleased to see him; but in so far as facial expression +might have indorsed the statement this pleasure was well +disguised, it did not get into his features. Pausing on the +terrace beside them, he indulged in certain observations on the +state of the crops and the weather. + +"You've lost a couple of niggers, I hear?" he added with an +oblique glance. + +"Yes," said Norton. + +"Got on the track of them yet?" Norton shook his head. "I +understand you've a new overseer?" continued Ware, with another +oblique glance. + +"Then you understand wrong--Carrington's my guest," said Norton. +"He's talking of putting in a crop for himself next season, so +he's willing to help me make mine." + +Betty turned quickly at the mention of Carrington's name. She +had known that he was still at Thicket Point, and having heard +him spoken of as Norton's new overseer, had meant to ask Charley +if he were really filling that position. An undefined sense of +relief came to her with Norton's reply to Tom's question. + +"Going to turn farmer, is he?" asked Ware. + +"So he says." Feeling that the only subjects in which he had +ever known Ware to take the slightest interest, namely, crops and +slaves, were exhausted, Norton was extremely disappointed when +the planter manifested a disposition to play the host and +returned to the house with them, where his mere presence, +forbidding and sullen, was such a hardship that Norton shortly +took his leave. + +"Well, hang Tom!" he said, as he rode away from Belle Plain. "If +he thinks he can freeze me out there's a long siege ahead of +him!" + +Issuing from the lane he turned his face in the direction of +home, but he did not urge his horse off a walk. To leave Belle +Plain and Betty demanded always his utmost resolution. His way +took him into the solemn twilight of untouched solitudes. A cool +breath rippled through the depths of the woods and shaped its own +soft harmonies where it lifted the great branches that arched the +road. He crossed strips of bottom land where the water stood in +still pools about the gnarled and moss-covered trunks of trees. +At intervals down some sluggish inlet he caught sight of the +yellow flood that was pouring past, or saw the Arkansas coast +beyond, with its mighty sweep of unbroken forest that rose out of +the river mists and blended with the gray distance that lay along +the horizon. + +He was within two miles of Thicket Point when, passing about a +sudden turn in the road, he found himself confronted by three +men, and before he could gather up his reins which he held +loosely, one of them had seized his horse by the bit. Norton was +unarmed, he had not even a riding-whip. This being the case he +prepared to make the best of an unpleasant situation which he +felt he could not alter. He ran his eye over the three men. + +"I am sorry, gentlemen, but I reckon you have hold of the wrong +person--" + +"Get down!" said one of the men briefly. + +"I haven't any money, that's why I say you have hold of the wrong +person." + +"We don't want your money." The unexpectedness of this reply +somewhat disturbed Norton. + +"What do you want, then?" he asked. + +"We got a word to say to you." + +"I can hear it in the saddle." + +"Get down!" repeated the man, a surly, bull-necked fellow. +"Come--hurry up!" he added. + +Norton hesitated for an instant, then swung himself out of the +saddle and stood in the road confronting the spokesman of the +party. + +"Now, what do you wish to say to me?" he asked. + +"Just this--you keep away from Belle Plain." + +"You go to hell!" said Norton promptly. The man glowered heavily +at hire through the gathering gloom of twilight. + +"We want your word that you'll keep away from Belle Plain," he +said with sullen insistence. + +"Well, you won't get it!" responded Norton with quiet decision. + +"We won't?" + +"Certainly you won't!" Norton's eyes began to flash. He +wondered if these were Tom Ware's emissaries. He was both +quick-tempered and high-spirited. Falling back a step, he sprang +forward and dealt the bullnecked man a savage blow. The latter +grunted heavily but kept his feet. In the same instant one of +the men who had never taken his eyes off Norton from the moment +he quitted the saddle, raised his fist and struck the young +planter in the back of the neck. + +"You cur!" cried Norton, blind and dizzy, as he wheeled on him. + +"Damn him--let him have it!" roared the bullnecked man. + +Afterward Norton was able to remember that the three rushed on +him, that he was knocked down and kicked with merciless +brutality, then consciousness left him. He lay very still in the +trampled dust of the road. The bull-necked man regarded the limp +figure in grim silence for a moment. + +"That'll do, he's had enough; we ain't to kill him this time," he +said. An instant later he, with his two companions, had vanished +silently into the woods. + +Norton's horse trotted down the road. When it entered the yard +at Thicket Point half an hour later, Carrington was on the porch. + +"Is that you, Norton?" he called, but there was no response, and +he saw the horse was riderless. "Jeff!" he cried, summoning +Norton's servant from the house. + +"What's the matter, Mas'r?" asked the negro, as he appeared in +the open door. + +"Why, here's Mr. Norton's horse come home without him. Do you +know where he went this afternoon?" + +"I heard him say he reckoned he'd ride over to Belle Plain, +Mas'r," answered Jeff, grinning. "I 'low the hoss done broke +away and come home by himself--he couldn't a-throwed Mas'r +Charley!" + +"We'll make sure of that. Get lanterns, and a couple of the +boys!" said Carrington. + +It was mid-afternoon of the day following before Betty heard of +the attack on Charley Norton. Tom brought the news, and she at +once ordered her horse saddled and was soon out on the river road +with a black groom trailing along through the dust in her wake. +Tom's version of the attack was that Charley, had been robbed and +all but murdered, and Betty never drew rein until she reached +Thicket Point. As she galloped into the yard Bruce Carrington +came from the house. At sight of the girl, with her wind-blown +halo of bright hair, he paused uncertainly. By a gesture Betty +called him to her side. + +"How is Mr. Norton?" she asked, extending her hand. + +"The doctor says he'll be up and about inside of a week, anyhow, +Miss Malroy," said Carrington. + +Betty gave a great sigh of relief. + +"Then his hurts are not serious?" + +"No," said Carrington, "they are not in any sense serious." + +"May I see him?" + +"He's pretty well bandaged up, so he looks worse off than he is. +If you'll wait on the porch, I'll tell him you are here," for +Betty had dismounted. + +"If you please." + +Carrington passed on into the house. His face wore a look of +somber repression. Of course it was all right for her to come +and see Norton--they were old, old friends. He entered the room +where Norton lay. + +"Miss Malroy is here," he said shortly. + +"Betty?--bless her dear heart!" cried Charley rather weakly. +"Just toss my clothes into the closet and draw up a chair . . . +There-thank you, Bruce, that will do--let her come along in now." +And as Carrington quitted the room, Norton drew himself up on the +pillows and faced the door. "This is worth several beatings, +Betty!" he exclaimed as she appeared on the threshold. But much +cotton and many bandages lent him a rather fearful aspect, and +Betty paused with a little gasp of dismay. "I'm lots better than +I look, I expect," said Norton. "Couldn't you arrange to come a +little closer?" he added, laughing. + +He bent to kiss the hand she gave him, but groaned with the +exertion. Then he looked up into her face and saw her eyes +swimming with tears. + +"What--tears? Tears for me, Betty?" and he was much moved. + +"It's a perfect outrage! Who did it, Charley?" she asked. + +"You sit down and I'll tell you all about it," said Norton +happily. + +"Now tell me, Charley!" when she had seated her. self. + +"Who fetched you, Betty--old Tom?" + +"No, I came alone." + +"Well, it's mighty kind of you. I'll be all right in a day or +so. What did you hear?--that I'd been attacked and half-killed?" + +"Yes--and robbed." + +"There were three of the scoundrels. They made me climb out of +the saddle, and as I was unarmed they did as they pleased with +me, which was to stamp me flat in the road--" + +"Charley!" + +"I might almost be inclined to think they were friends of yours, +Betty--or at least friends of friends of yours." + +"What do you mean, Charley--friends of mine?" + +"Well, you see they started in by stipulating that I should keep +away from Belle Plain, and the terms they proposed being on the +face of them preposterous, trouble quickly ensued--trouble for +me, you understand. But never mind, dear, the next man who +undertakes to grab my horse by the bit won't get off quite so +easy." + +"Why should any one care whether you come to Belle Plain or not?" + +"I wonder if my amiable friend, Tom, could have arranged this +little affair; it's sort of like old Tom to move in the dark, +isn't it?" + +"He couldn't--he wouldn't have done it, Charley!" but she looked +troubled, not too sure of this. + +"Couldn't he? Well, maybe he couldn't--but he's afraid you'll +marry me--and I'm only afraid you won't. Betty, hasn't it ever +seemed worth your while to marry me just to give old Tom the +scare of his life?" + +"Please, Charley--" she began. + +"I'm in a dreadful state of mind when I think of you alone at +Belle Plain--I wish you could love me, Betty!" + +"I do love you. There is no one I care half so much for, +Charley." + +Norton shook his bandaged head and heaved a prodigious sigh. + +"That's merely saying you don't love any one." He dropped back +rather wearily on his pillow. "Does Tom know about this?" he +added. + +"Yes." + +"Was he able to show a proper amount of surprise?" + +"He appeared really shocked, Charley." + +"Well, then, it wasn't Tom. He never shows much emotion, but +what he does show he usually feels, I've noticed. I had rather +hoped it was Tom, I'd be glad to think that he was responsible; +for if it wasn't Tom, who was it?--who is it to whom it makes any +difference how often I see you?" + +"I don't know, Charley;" but her voice was uncertain. + +"Look here, Betty; for the hundredth time, won't you marry me? +I've loved you ever since I was old enough to know what love +meant. You've been awfully sweet and patient with me, and I've +tried to respect your wishes and not speak of this except when it +seemed necessary--" he paused, and they both laughed a little, +but he looked weak and helpless with his bloodless face showing +between the gaps in the bandages that swathed him. Perhaps it +was this sense of his helplessness that roused a feeling in Betty +that was new to her. + +"You see, Charley, I fear--I am sure I don't love you the way I +should--to marry you--" + +Charley, greatly excited, groaned and sat up, and groaned again. + +"Oh, please, Charley-lie still!" she entreated. + +"That's all right--and you needn't pull your hand away--you like +me better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you +see that's the beginning of really loving me?" + +"But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?" + +"Yes I would--right away--as soon as I am able to stir around!" +said Charley promptly. "Don't you see the immediate necessity +there is of my being in a position to care for you, Betty? I +wasn't served this trick for nothing." + +"You must try not to worry, Charley." + +"But I shall--I expect it's going to retard my recovery," said +the young man gloomily. "I couldn't be worse off! Here I am +flat on my back; I can't come to you or keep watch over you. Let +me have some hope, dear--let me believe that you will marry me!" + +She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness +in her mood. + +"Do you really care so much for me, Charley?" + +"I love you, Betty!--I want you to say you will marry me as soon +as I can stand by your side--you're not going?--I won't speak of +this again if it annoys you, dear!" for she had risen. + +"I must, Charley--" + +"Oh, don't--well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride +back with you." + +"But I brought George with me--" + +"Yes, I know, but I want you to take Carrington--the Lord knows +what we are coming to here in West Tennessee; I must have word +that you reach home safe." + +"Very well, then, I'll ask Mr. Carrington. Good-by, Charley, +dear!" + +Norton seemed to summon all his fortitude. + +"You couldn't have done a kinder thing than come here, Betty; I +can't begin to tell you how grateful I am--and as for my loving +you--why, I'll just keep on doing that to the end. I can see +myself a bent, old man still pestering you with my attentions, +and you a sweet, old lady with snow-white hair and pink cheeks, +still obdurate--still saying no! Oh, Lord, isn't it awful!" He +had lifted himself on his elbow, and now sank back on his pillow. + +Betty paused irresolutely. + +"Charley--" + +"Yes, dear?" + +"Can't you be happy without me?" + +"No," + +"But you don't try to be!" + +"No use in my making any such foolish effort, I'd be doomed to +failure." + +"Good-by, Charley--I really must go--" + +He looked up yearningly into her face, and yielding to a sudden +impulse, she stooped and kissed him on the forehead, then she +fled from the room. + +"Oh, come back--Betty--" cried Norton, and his voice rose to a +wail of entreaty, but she was gone. She had been quite as much +surprised by her act as Charley himself. + +In the yard, Carrington was waiting for her. Jeff had just +brought up Norton's horse, and though he made no display of +weapons, the Kentuckian had fully armed himself. + +"I am going to ride to Belle Plain with you, Miss Malroy," he +said, as he lifted her into her saddle. + +"Do you think it necessary?" she asked, but she did not look at +him. + +"I hope not. I'll keep a bit in advance," he added, as he +mounted his horse, and all Betty saw of him during their ride of +five miles was his broad back. At the entrance to Belle Plain he +reined in his horse. + +"I reckon it's all right, now," he said briefly. + +"You will return at once to Mr. Norton?" she asked. He nodded. +"And you will not leave him while he is helpless?" + +"No, I'll not leave him," said Carrington, giving her a steady +glance. + +"I am so glad, I--his friends will feel so much safer with you +there. I will send over in the morning to learn how he passed +the night. Good-by, Mr. Carrington." And still refusing to meet +his eyes, she gave him her hand. + +But Carrington did not quit the mouth of the lane until she had +crossed between the great fields of waving corn, and he had seen +her pass up the hillside beyond to the oak grove, where the four +massive chimneys of Belle Plain house showed their gray stone +copings among the foliage. With this last glimpse of her he +turned away. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THICKET POINT + + +It WAS a point with Mr. Ware to see just as little as possible of +Betty. He had no taste for what he called female chatter. A +sane interest in the price of cotton or pork he considered the +only rational test of human intelligence, and Betty evinced +entire indifference where those great staples were concerned, +hence it was agreeable to him to have most of his meals served in +his office. + +At first Betty had sought to adapt herself to his somewhat +peculiar scheme of life, but Tom had begged her not to regard +him, his movements from hour to hour were cloaked in uncertainty. +The man who had to overlook the labor of eighty or ninety field +hands was the worst sort of a slave himself; the niggers knew +when they could sit down to a meal; he never did. + +But for all his avoidance of Betty, he in reality kept the +closest kind of a watch on her movements, and when he learned +that she had visited Charley Norton--George, the groom, was the +channel through which this information reached him--he was both +scandalized and disturbed. He felt the situation demanded some +sort of a protest. + +"Isn't it just hell the way a woman can worry you?" he lamented, +as he hurried up the path from the barns to the house. He found +Betty at supper. + +"I thought I'd have a cup of tea with you, Bet--what else have +you that's good?" he inquired genially, as he dropped into a +chair. + +"That was nice of you; we don't see very much of each other, do +we, Tom?" said Betty pleasantly. + +Mr. Ware twisted his features, on which middle age had rested an +untender hand, into a smile. + +"When a man undertakes to manage a place like Belle Plain his +work's laid out for him, Betty, and an old fellow like me is +pretty apt to go one of two ways; either he takes to hard living +to keep himself in trim, or he pampers himself soft." + +"But you aren't old, Tom!" + +"I wish I were sure of seeing forty-five or even forty-eight +again--but I'm not," said Tom. + +"But that isn't really old," objected Betty. + +"Well, that's old enough, Bet, as you'll discover for yourself +one of these days." + +"Mercy, Tom!" cried Betty. + +Mr. Ware consumed a cup of tea in silence. + +"You were over to see Norton, weren't you, Bet? How did you find +him?" he asked abruptly. + +"The doctor says he will soon be about again," answered Betty. + +Tom stroked his chin and gazed at her reflectively. + +"Betty, I wish you wouldn't go there again--that's a good girl!" +he said tactfully, and as he conceived it, affectionately, even, +paving the way for an exercise of whatever influence might be +his, a point on which he had no very clear idea. Betty glanced +up quickly. + +"Why, Tom, why shouldn't I go there?" she demanded. + +"It might set people gossiping. I reckon there's been pretty +near enough talk about you and Charley Norton. A young girl +can't be too careful." The planter's tone was conciliatory in +the extreme, he dared not risk a break by any open show of +authority. + +"You needn't distress yourself, Tom. I don't know that I shall +go there again," said Betty indifferently. + +"I wouldn't if I were you." He was charmed to find her so +reasonable. "You know it isn't the thing for a young girl to +call on a man, you'll get yourself talked about in a way you +won't like--take my word for it! If you want to be kind and +neighborly send one of the boys over to ask how he is--or bake a +cake with your own hands, but you keep away. That's the idea! +--send him something to eat, something you've made yourself, +he'll appreciate that." + +"I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom. It's plain you +have no acquaintance with my cooking," said Betty, laughing. + +"Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men +who robbed him?" inquired Tom casually. + +"Their object wasn't robbery," said Betty. + +"No?" Ware's glance was uneasy. + +"It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom--here to +Belle Plain to see me, I suppose," added Betty. The planter +moved uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes. + +"He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet. It isn't just the +thing for a gentleman to do--" + +"He isn't putting it out, as you call it! He has told no one, so +far as I know," said Betty quickly. Mr. Ware fell into a +brooding silence. "Of course, Charley wouldn't mention my name +in any such connection!" continued Betty. + +"Who cares how often he comes here? You don't, and I don't. +There's more back of this than Charley would want you to know. I +reckon he's got his enemies; some one's had a grudge against him +and taken this way to settle it." The planter's tone and manner +were charged with an unpleasant significance. + +"I don't like your hints, Tom," said Betty. Her heightened color +and the light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough. In +some haste he finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he +despised, and after a desultory remark or two, withdrew to his +office. + +Betty went up-stairs to her own room, where she tried to finish a +letter she had begun the day before to Judith Ferris, but she was +in no mood for this. She was owning to a sense of utter +depression and she had been at home less than a month. Struggle +as she might against the feeling, it was borne in upon her that +she was wretchedly lonely. She had seated herself by an open +window. Now, resting her elbows on the ledge and with her chin +between her palms, she gazed off into the still night. A mile +distant, on what was called "Shanty Hill," were the quarters of +the slaves. The only lights she saw were there, the only sounds +she heard reached her across the intervening fields. This was +her world. A half-savage world with its uncouth army of black +dependents. + +Tom's words still rankled. Betty's temper flared up +belligerently as she recalled them. He had evidently meant to +insinuate that Charley had lied outright when he told her the +motive for the attack, and he had followed it up by that covert +slur on his character. Charley's devotion was the thing that +redeemed the dull monotony of existence. She became suddenly +humble and tenderly penitent in her mood toward him; he loved her +much better than she deserved, and she suspected that her own +attitude had been habitually ungenerous and selfish. She had +accepted all and yielded nothing. She wondered gravely why it +was she did not love him; she was fond of him--she was very, very +fond of him; she wondered if after all, as he said, this were not +the beginning of love, the beginning of that deeper feeling which +she was not sure she understood, not sure she should ever +experience. + +The thought of Charley's unwavering affection gave her a great +sense of peace; it was something to have inspired such devotion, +she could never be quite desperate while she had him. She must +try to make him understand how possible an ideal friendship was +between them, how utterly impossible anything else. She would +like to have seen Charley happily married to some nice girl-- +"I wonder whom!" thought Betty, gazing deep into the night +through her drooping lashes. She considered possible candidates +for the happiness she herself seemed so willing to forego, but +for one reason or another dismissed them all. "I am not sure I +should care to see him marry," she confessed under her breath. +"It would spoil everything. Men are much nicer than girls!" And +Charley possessed distinguished merits as a man; he was not to be +too hastily disposed of, even for his own good. She viewed him +in his various aspects, his character and disposition came under +her critical survey. Nature had given the young planter a +handsome presence; wealth and position had come to him as +fortuitously. The first of these was no great matter, perhaps; +Betty herself was sometimes burdened with a sense of possession, +but family was indispensable. + +In theory, at least, she was a thoroughgoing little aristocrat. +A gentleman was always a gentleman. There were exceptions, like +Tom, to be sure, but even Tom could have reached up and seized +the title had he coveted it. She rarely forgot that she was the +mistress of Belle Plain and a Malroy. Just wherein a Malroy +differed from the rest of the sons of men she had never paused to +consider, it sufficed that there was a hazy Malroy genealogy that +went back to tidewater Virginia, and then if one were not meanly +curious, and would skip a generation or two that could not be +accounted for in ways any Malroy would accept, one might +triumphantly follow the family to a red-roofed Sussex manor +house. Altogether, it was a highly satisfactory genealogy and it +had Betty's entire faith. The Nortons were every bit as good as +the Malroys, which was saying a great deal. Their history was +quite as pretentious, quite as vague, and as hopelessly involved +in the mists of tradition. + +Inexplicably enough, Betty found that her thoughts had wandered +to Carrington; which was very singular, as she had long since +formed a resolution not to think of him at all. Yet she +remembered with satisfaction his manner that afternoon, it left +nothing to be desired. He was probably understanding the +impassable gulf that separated them--education, experience, +feeling, everything that made up the substance of life but +deepened and widened this gulf. He belonged to that shifting, +adventurous population which was far beneath the slave-holding +aristocracy, at least he more nearly belonged to this lower order +than to any other. She fixed his status relentlessly as +something to be remembered when they should meet again. At last, +with a little puckering of the brows and a firm contraction of +the lips, she dismissed the Kentuckian from her thoughts. + + +Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again +visit Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so. +However, the planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he +presently made that she was engaged in a vigorous correspondence +with Charley. + +"I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life +clean out of him while they were about it!" he commented +savagely, and fell to cursing impotently. Brute force was a +factor to be introduced with caution into the affairs of life, +but if you were going to use it, his belief was that you should +use it to the limit. You couldn't scare Norton, he was in love +with that pink-faced little fool. Keep away?--he'd never think +of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols and the next man +who stopped him on the road would better look out! It made him +sick--the utter lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his +talk, whenever they met, was still of the girl. He couldn't see +anything so damn uncommon about that red-and-white chit. She +wasn't worth running your neck into a halter for--no woman that +ever lived was worth that. + +The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore +just on one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a +time, at least, he would not attempt to see her. It seemed such +a needless risk to take, couldn't he be satisfied if he heard +from her every day? + +Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount +his horse he would ride down to Belle Plain. She was not to +distress herself on his account; he had been surprised, but this +should not happen again. + +The calm manner in which he put aside her fears for his safety +exasperated Betty beyond measure. She scolded him vigorously. +Charley accepted the scolding with humility, but his resolution +was unshaken; he did not propose to vacate the public roads at +any man's behest; that would be an unwise precedent to establish. + +Betty replied that this was not a matter in which silly vanity +should enter, even if his life was of no value to himself it did +not follow that she held it lightly. It required some eight +closely written pages for Charley to explain why existence would +be an unsupportable burden if he were denied the sight of her. + +A week had intervened since the attack, and from Jeff, who always +brought Charley's letters, Betty learned more of Charley's +condition than Charley himself had seen fit to tell. According +to Jeff his master was now able to get around pretty tolerable +well, though he had a powerful keen misery in his side. + +"That was whar' they done kicked him most, Miss," he added. +Betty shuddered. + +"How much longer will he be confined to the house?" she asked. + +"I heard him 'low to Mas'r Carrington, Miss, as how he reckoned +he'd take a hossback ride to-morrow evenin' if the black and blue +was all come out of his features--" + +"Oh--" gasped Betty. + +"Seems like they was mighty careless whar' they put their feet, +don't it, Miss?" said Jeff. + +It was this information she gleaned from Jeff that led Betty to +desperate lengths, to the making of what her cooler judgment told +her was a desperate bargain. + +At Thicket Point Charley Norton, greatly excited, .hobbled into +the library in search of Carrington. He found him reading by the +open window. + +"Look here, Bruce!" he cried. "It's settled; she's going to +marry me!" + +The book slipped unheeded from Carrington's hand to the floor. +For a moment he sat motionless, then he slowly pulled himself up +out of his chair. + +"What's that?" he asked a trifle thickly. + +"Betty Malroy is going to marry me," said Norton. Carrington +gazed at him in silence. + +"It's settled, is it?" he asked at length. He saw his own hopes +go down in miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the +first. He had known all along that Norton loved her, the young +planter had made no secret of it. He had been less frank. + +"I swear you take it quietly enough," said Norton. + +"Do I?" + +"Can't you wish me joy?" + +Carrington held out his hand. + +"You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to +live for," he said haltingly. + +"No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain," said Norton happily. +"She insists on that; she says she won't even see me if I come +there. Everything is to be kept a secret; nothing's to be known +until we are actually married; it's her wish--" + +"It's to be soon then?" Carrington asked, still haltingly. + +"Very soon." + +There was a brief silence. Carrington, with face averted, looked +from the window. + +"I am going to stay here as long as you need me," he presently +said. "She--Miss Malroy asked me to, and then I am going back to +the river where I belong." + +Norton turned on him quickly. + +"You don't mean you've abandoned the notion of turning planter?" +he demanded in surprise. + +"Well, yes. What's the use of my trying my hand at a business I +don't know the first thing about?" + +"I wouldn't be in too big a hurry to decide finally on that +point," urged Norton. + +"It has decided itself," said Carrington quietly. + +But Norton was conscious of a subtle change in their relation. +Carrington seemed a shade less frank than had been habitual with +him; all at once he had removed his private affairs from the +field of discussion. Afterward, when Norton considered the +matter, he wondered if it were not that the Kentuckian felt +himself superfluous in this new situation that had grown up. + +Charley Norton's features recovered their accustomed hue, but he +did not go near Belle Plain; with resolute fortitude he confined +himself to his own acres. He was tolerably familiar with certain +engaging little peculiarities of Mr. Ware's; he knew, for +instance, that the latter was a gentleman of excessively regular +habits; once each fortnight, making an excuse of business, he +spent a day in Memphis, neither more nor less. Norton told +himself with satisfaction that Tom was destined to return to the +surprise of his life from the next of these trips. This +conviction was the one thing which sustained Charley for some ten +days. They were altogether the longest ten days he had ever +known, and he had about reached the limit of his endurance when +Betty's groom arrived with a letter which threw him into a state +of ecstatic happiness. The sober-minded Tom would devote the +morrow to Memphis and business. This meant that he would leave +Belle Plain at sun-up and return after nightfall. + +"You may not like Tom, but you can always count on him," said +Norton. Then he ordered his horse and rode off in the direction +of Raleigh, but before leaving the house, he scribbled a line or +two to be handed Carrington, who had gone down to the nearest +river landing. + +It was nightfall when the Kentuckian returned, Hearing his step +in the hall, Jeff came from the dining-room, where he was laying +the cloth for supper. + +"Mas'r Charley has rid to Raleigh, Sah," said he; "but he done +lef' this fo' me to han' to yo"--extending the letter. + +Carrington took it. He guessed its contents. Breaking the seal +he read the half dozen lines. + +"To-morrow--" he muttered under his breath, and slowly tore the +sheet of note-paper into thin ribbons. He turned to Jeff. "Mr. +Charley won't be home until late," he said. + +"Then I 'low yo' want yo' supper now, Sar?" But Carrington shook +his head. + +"No, you needn't bother, Jeff," he said, as he turned toward the +stairs. + +Ten minutes later and he had got together his belongings and was +ready to quit Thicket Point. He retraced his steps to the floor +below. In the hall he paused and glanced about him. He seemed +to feel her presence--and very near--to-morrow she would enter +there as Norton's wife. With his pack under his arm he entered +the dining-room in search of Jeff. + +"Tell your master I have gone to Memphis," he said briefly. + +"Ain't yo' goin' to have a hoss, Mas'r Carrington?" demanded Jeff +in some surprise. He had come to regard the Kentuckian as a +fixture. + +"No," said Carrington. "Good-by, Jeff," he added, turning away. + +But when he left Thicket Point he did not take the Memphis road, +but the road to Belle Plain. Walking rapidly, he reached the +entrance to the lane within the hour. Here he paused +irresolutely, it was as if the force of his purpose had already +spent itself. Then he tossed his pack into a fence corner and +kept on toward the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AT THE CHURCH DOOR + + +There was the patter of small feet beyond Betty's door, and +little Steve, who looked more like a nice fat black Cupid than +anything else, rapped softly; at the same time he effected to +squint through the keyhole. + +"Supper served, Missy," he announced, then he turned no less than +seven handsprings in the upper hall and slid down the balustrade +to the floor below. He was far from being a model house servant. + +His descent was witnessed by the butler. Now in his own youth +big Steve with as fair a field had cut similar capers, yet he was +impelled by his sense of duty to do for his grandson what his own +father had so often done for him, and in no perfunctory manner. +It was only the sound of Betty's door opening and closing that +stayed his hand as he was making choice of a soft and vulnerable +spot to which he should apply it. Little Steve slid under the +outstretched arm that menaced him and fled to the dining-room. + +Betty came slowly down the stairs. Four hours since Jeff had +ridden away with the letter. Already there had come to her +moments when, she would have given much could she have recalled +it, when she knew with dread certainty that whatever her feeling +for Charley, it was not love; moments when she realized that she +had been cruelly driven by circumstances into a situation that +offered no escape. + +"Mas'r Tom he say he won't come in to supper, Missy; he 'low he's +powerful busy, gittin' ready to go to Memphis in the mo'ning," +explained Steve, as he followed Betty into the dining-room. + +His mistress nodded indifferently as she seated herself at the +table; she was glad to be alone just then; she was in no mood to +carry on the usual sluggish conversation with Tom; her own +thoughts absorbed hermore and more they became terrifying things +to her. + +She ate her supper with big Steve standing behind her chair and +little Steve balancing himself first on one foot and then on the +other near the door. Little Steve's head was on a level with the +chair rail and but for the rolling whites of his eyes he was no +more than a black shadow against the walnut wainscoting; he +formed the connecting link between the dining-room and the remote +kitchen. Betty suspected that most of the platters journeyed +down the long corridor deftly perched on top of his woolly head. +She frequently detected him with greasy or sticky fingers, which +while it argued a serious breach of trust also served to indicate +his favorite dishes. These two servitors were aware that their +mistress was laboring under some unusual stress of emotion. In +its presence big Steven, who, with the slightest encouragement, +became a medium through which the odds and ends of plantation +gossip reached Betty's ears, held himself to silence; while +little Steve ceased to shift his weight from foot to foot, the +very dearth of speech fixed his attention. + +The long French windows, their curtains drawn, stood open. All +day a hot September sun had beaten upon the earth, but with the +fall of twilight a soft wind had sprung up and the candles in +their sconces flared at its touch. It came out of wide solitudes +laden with the familiar night sounds. It gave Betty a sense of +vast unused spaces, of Belle Plain clinging on the edge of an +engulfing wilderness, of her own loneliness. She needed Charley +as much as he seemed to think he needed her. The life she had +been living had become suddenly impossible of continuance; that +it had ever been possible was because of Charley; she knew this +now as she had never known it before. + +Her thoughts dealt with the past. In her one great grief, her +mother's death, it had been Charley who had sustained and +comforted her. She was conscious of a choking sense of gratitude +as she recalled his patient tenderness at that time, the sympathy +and understanding he had shown; it was something never to be +forgotten. + +Unrest presently sent her from the house. She wandered down to +the terrace. Before her was the wide sweep of the swampy +fore-shore, and beyond just beginning to silver in the moonlight, +the bend of the river growing out of the black void. With her +eyes on the river and her hands clasped loosely she watched the +distant line of the Arkansas coast grow up against the sky; she +realized that the moon was rising on Betty Malroy for the last +time. + +She liked Charley; she needed some one to take care of her and +her belongings, and he needed her. It was best for them both +that she should marry him. True she might have gone back to +Judith Ferris; that would have been one solution of her +difficulties. Why hadn't she thought of doing this before? Of +course, Charley would have followed her East. Charley met the +ordinary duties and responsibilities of his position somewhat +recklessly; it was only where she was concerned that he became +patiently determined. + +"I suppose the end would have been the same there as here," +thought Betty. + +A moment later she found herself wondering if Charley had told +Carrington yet; certainly the Kentuckian would not remain at +Thicket Point when he knew. She was sure she wished him to leave +not Thicket Point merely, but the neighborhood. She did not wish +to see him again--not see him again--not see him again - She +found herself repeating the words over and over; they shaped +themselves into a dreadful refrain. A nameless terror of the +future swept in upon her. She was cold and sick. It was as +though an icy hand was laid upon her heart. The words ran on in +endless repetition--not see him again--they held the very soul of +tragedy for her, yet she was roused to passionate protest. She +must not think of him, he was nothing to her. She was to be +married to another man, even now she was almost a wife--but +battle as she might the struggle went on. + +There was the sound of a step on the path. Betty turned, +supposing it to be Tom; but it was not Tom, it was Carrington +himself who stood before her, his face haggard and drawn. She +uttered an involuntary exclamation and shrank away from him. +Without a word he stepped to her side and took her hands rather +roughly. + +For a moment there was silence between them, Betty stared up into +his face with wide scared eyes, while he gazed down at her as if +he would fasten something on his mind that must never be +forgotten. Suddenly he lifted her soft cold hands to his lips +and kissed them passionately again and again; then he held them +in his own against his cheek, his glance still fixed intently +upon her; it held something of bitterness and reproach, but now +she kept her eyes under their quivering lids from him. + +"What am I to do without you?"--his voice was almost a whisper. +"What is this thing you have done?" Betty's heart was beating +with dull sickening throbs, but she dared not trust herself to +answer him. He took both her hands in one of his, and, slipping +the other under her chin, raised her face so that he could look +into her eyes; then he put his arm loosely about her, holding her +hands against his breast. "If I could have had one moment out of +all the years for my own--only one. I am glad you don't care, +dear; it hurts when you reach the end of something that has been +all your hope and filled all your days. I have come to say +good-by, Betty; this is the last time I shall see you. I am +going away." + +All in an instant Betty pressed close to him, hiding her face in +his arm; she clung to him in a panic of pain and horror. She +felt something stir within her that had never been there before, +as a storm of passionate longing swept through her. Her words, +her promise to another man, became as nothing. All her pride was +forgotten. Without this man the days stretched away before her a +blank. His arm drew her closer still, until she felt her heart +throb against his. + +"Do you care?" he said, and seemed to wonder that she should. + +"Bruce, Bruce, I didn't know--and now-- Oh, my dear, my dear--" +He pressed his lips against the bright little head that rested in +such miserable abandon against his shoulder. + +"Do you love me?" he whispered. The blood ran riot in his veins. + +"Why have you stayed away--why didn't you come to me? I have +promised him--" she gasped. + +"I know," he said, and shut his lips. There was another silence +while she waited for him to speak. She felt that she was at his +mercy, that whether right or wrong, as he decided so it would be. +At length he said. "I thought it wasn't fair to him, and it +seemed so hopeless after I came here. I had nothing--and a man +feels that--so I kept away." He spoke awkwardly with something +of the reserve that was habitual to him. + +"If you had only come!" she moaned. + +"I did--once," he muttered. + +"You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to +you? It was only that I cared--that in my heart I knew I cared +--I've cared about you ever since that trip down the river, and now +I am going to be married to-morrow--to-morrow, Bruce--do you +realize I have given my promise? I am to meet him at the Spring +Bank church at ten o'clock--and it's tomorrow!" she cried, in a +laboring choked voice. For answer he drew her closer. "Bruce, +what can I do?--tell me what I can do." + +Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest. + +"I can't tell you that, dear--for I don't know." His voice was +steady, but it came from lips that quivered. He knew that he +might have urged the supreme claim of his love and in her present +desperate mood she would have listened, but the memory of Norton +would have been between them always a shame and reproach; as +surely as he stood there with his arms about her, as surely as +she clung to him so warm and near, he would have lived to see the +shadow of that shame in her eyes. + +"I can not do it--I can not, Bruce!" she panted. + +"Dear--dear--don't tempt me!" He held himself in check. + +"I am going to tell you--just this once, BruceI love you--you are +my own for this one moment out of my life!" and she abandoned +herself to the passionate caressing with which he answered her. +"How can I give you up?" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. +He put her from him almost roughly, and leaning against the trunk +of a tree buried his face in his hands. Betty watched him for a +moment in wretched silence. + +"Don't feel so bad, Bruce," she said brokenly. "I am not worth +it. I tried not to love you--I didn't want to." She raised a +white face to his. + +"I am going now, Betty. You--you shouldn't stay here any longer +with me." He spoke with sudden resolution. + +"And I shall not see you again?" she asked, in a low, stifled +voice. + +"It's good-by--" he muttered. + +"Not yet--oh, not yet, Bruce--" she implored. "I can not--" + +"Yes--now, dear. I don't dare stay--I may forget--" but he +turned again to her in entreaty. "Give me something to remember +in all the years that are coming when I shall be alone--let me +kiss you on the lips--let me--just this once--it's good-by we're +saying--it's good-by, Betty!" + +She went to him, and, as he bent above her, slipped her arms +about his neck. + +"Kiss me--" she breathed. + +He kissed her hair, her soft cheek, then their lips met. + +He helped her as she stumbled blindly along the path to the +house, and half lifted her up the steps to the door. They paused +there for a moment. At last he turned from her abruptly in +silence. A step away he halted. + +"If you should ever need me--" +"Never as now," she said. + +She saw his tall figure pass down the path, and her straining +eyes followed until it was lost in the mild wide spaces of the +night. + + +Another hot September sun was beating upon the earth as Betty +galloped down the lane and swung her horse's head in the +direction of Raleigh. Her grief had worn itself out and she +carried a pale but resolute face. Carrington was gone; she would +keep her promise to Charley and he should never know what his +happiness had cost her. She nerved herself for their meeting; +somewhere between Belle Plain and Thicket Point Norton would be +waiting for her. + +He joined her before she had covered a third of the distance that +separated the two plantations. + +"Thank God, my darling!" he cried fervently, as he ranged up +alongside of her. + +"Then you weren't sure of me, Charley?" + +"No, I wasn't sure, Betty--but I hoped. I have been haunting the +road for more than an hour. You are making one poor unworthy +devil happy, unless--" + +"Unless what, Charley?" she prompted. + +"Unless you came here merely to tell me that after all you +couldn't marry me." He put out his hand and covered hers that +held the reins. "I'll never give you cause to regret it--you +know how I love you, dear?" + +"Yes, Charley--I know." She met his glance bravely. + +"We are to go to the church. Mr. Bowen will be there; I arranged +with him last night; he will drive over with his wife and +daughter, who will be our witnesses, dear. We could have gone to +his house, but I thought it would seem more like a real wedding +in a church, you know." + +Betty did not answer him, her eyes were fixed straight ahead, the +last vestige of color had faded from her face and a deathly +pallor was there. This was the crowning horror. She felt the +terrible injustice she was doing the man at her side, the depth +and sincerity of his devotion was something for which she could +make no return. Her lips trembled on the verge of an avowal of +her love for Carrington. Presently she saw the church in its +grove of oaks, in the shade of one of these stood Mr. Bowen's +horse and buggy. + +"We won't have to wait on him!" said Norton. + +"No--" Betty gasped out the monosyllable. + +"Why--my darling--what's the matter?" he asked tenderly, his +glance bent in concern on the frightened face of the girl. + +"Nothing--nothing, Charley + +They had reined in their horses. Norton sprang to the ground and +lifted her from the saddle. + +"It will only take a moment, dear!" he whispered encouragingly in +the brief instant he held her in his arms. + +"Oh, Charley, it isn't that--it's dreadfully serious--" she said, +with a wild little laugh that was almost hysterical. + +"I wouldn't have it less than that," he said gravely. + + +Afterward Betty could remember standing before the church in the +fierce morning light; she heard Mr. Bowen's voice, she heard +Charley's voice, she heard another voice--her own, though she +scarcely recognized it. Then, like one aroused from a dream, she +looked about her--she met Charley's glance; his face was radiant +and she smiled back at him through a sudden mist that swam before +her eyes. + +Mr. Bowen led her toward the church door. As they neared it they +caught the clatter of hoofs, and Tom Ware on a hard-ridden horse +dashed up; he was covered with dust and inarticulate with rage. +Then a cry came from him that was like the roar of some mortally +wounded animal. + +"I forbid this marriage!" he shrieked, when he could command +speech. + +"You're too late to stop it, Tom, but you can attend it," said +Norton composedly. + +"You--you--" Words failed the planter; he sat his horse the +picture of a grim and sordid despair. + +Mr. Bowen divided a look of reproach between his wife and +daughter; his own conscience was clear; he had told no one of the +purpose of Norton's call the night before. + +"I'll tie the horses, Betty," said Norton. + +Ware turned fiercely to Bowen. + +"You knew better than to be a party to this, and by God!--if you +go on with it you shall live to regret it!" + +The minister made him no answer, he thoroughly disapproved of the +planter. It was well that Betty should have a proper protector, +this half-brother was hardly that measured by any standard. + +Norton, leading the horses, had reached the edge of the oaks when +from the silent depths of the denser woods came the sharp report +of a rifle. The shock of the bullet sent the young fellow +staggering back among the mossy and myrtle-covered graves. + +For a moment no one grasped what had happened, only there was +Norton who seemed to grope strangely among the graves. Black +spots danced before his eyes, the little group by the church +merged into the distance--always receding, always more remote, as +he, stumbled helplessly over the moss and the thick dank myrtle +and among the round graves that gave him a treacherous footing; +and then he heard Betty's agonized cry. He had fallen now, and +his strength went from him, but he kept his face turned on the +group before the church in mute appeal, and even as the shadows +deepened he was aware that Betty was coming swiftly toward him. + +"I'm shot--" he said, speaking with difficulty. + +"Charley--Charley--" she moaned, slipping her strong young arms +about him and gathering him to her breast. + +He looked up into her face. + +"It's all over--" he said, but as much in wonder as in fear. +"But I knew you would come to me--dear--" he added in a whisper. +She felt a shudder pass through him. He did not speak again. +His lips opened once, and closed on silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE JUDGE OFFERS A REWARD + + +The news of Charley Norton's murder spread quickly over the +county. For two or three days bands of armed men scoured the +woods and roads, and then this activity quite unproductive of any +tangible results ceased, matters were allowed to rest with the +constituted authorities, namely Mr. Betts the sheriff, and his +deputies. + +No private citizen had shown greater zeal than Judge Slocum +Price, no voice had clamored more eloquently for speedy justice +than his. He had sustained a loss that was in a peculiar sense +personal, he explained. Mr. Norton was his friend and client; +they had much in common; their political ideals were in the +strictest accord and he had entertained a most favorable opinion +of the young man's abilities; he had urged him to enter the +national arena and carve out a career for himself; he had +promised him his support. The judge so worked upon his own +feelings that presently any mention of Norton's name utterly +unmanned him. Well, this was life. One could only claim time as +it was doled out by clock ticks; we planned for the years and +could not be certain of the moments. + +He spent two entire days at the church and in the surrounding +woods, nor did any one describe the murder with the vividness he +achieved in his description of it. The minister's narrative was +pale and colorless by comparison, and those who came from a +distance went away convinced that they had talked with an +eyewitness to the tragedy and esteemed themselves fortunate. In +short, he imposed himself on the situation with such brilliancy +that in the end his account of the murder became the accepted +version from which all other versions differed to their +discredit. + +In the same magnificent spirit of public service he would have +assumed the direction of the search for the murderer, but Mr. +Betts' jealousy proved an obstacle to his ambitious design. In +view of this he was regretful, but not surprised when the +hard-ridden miles covered by dusty men and reeking horses yielded +only failure. + +"If I had shot that poor boy, I wouldn't ask any surer guarantee +of safety than to have that fool Betts with his microscopic brain +working in unhampered asininity on the case," he told Mahaffy. + +"Is it your idea that you are enlarging your circle of intimate +friends by the way you go about slamming into folks?" inquired +Mahaffy, with harsh sarcasm. + +Later, the judge was shocked at what he characterized as official +apathy. It became a point on which he expressed himself with +surpassing candor. + +"Do they think the murderer's going to come in and give himself +up?--is that the notion?" he demanded heatedly of Mr. Saul. + +"The sheriff owns himself beat, Sir; the murderer's got safely +away and left no clue to his identity." + +The judge waived this aside. + +"Clues, sir? If you mean physical evidence the eye can +apprehend, I grant it; the murderer has got away; certainly he's +been given all the time he needed, but what about the motive that +prompted the crime? An intelligently conducted examination such +as I am willing to undertake might still bring it to light. +Isn't it known that Norton was attacked a fortnight ago as he was +leaving Belle Plain? He recovers and is about to be married to +Miss Malroy when he is shot at the church door; I'll hazard the +opinion the attack was in the nature of a warning for him to keep +away from Belle Plain. Now, had he a rival? Clear up these +points and you get a clue!" The judge paused impressively. + +"Tom Ware has acted in a straightforward manner. He's stated +frankly he was opposed to the match, that when he heard about it +on his way to Memphis he turned back and made every effort to get +to the church in time to stop it if he could," said Mr. Saul. + +"Mr. Ware need not be considered," observed the judge. + +"Well, there's been a heap of talk." + +"If he'd inspired the firing of the fatal shot he'd have kept +away from the church. No, no, Mr. Saul, is there anybody +hereabout who aspired to Miss Malroy's hand--any rejected +suitor?" + +"Not that we know of." + +"Under ordinary circumstances, sir, I am opposed to measures that +ignore the constituted authorities, but we find ourselves living +under extraordinary conditions, and the law--God save the name +--has proved itself abortive. It is time for the better element to +join bands; we must get together, sir. I am willing to take the +initial steps and issue the call for a mass meeting of our best +citizens. I am prepared to address such a meeting." The very +splendor of his conception dazzled the judge; this promised a +gorgeous publicity with his name flying broadcast over the +county. He continued: + +"I am ready to give my time gratuitously to directing the +activities of a body of picked men who shall rid the county of +the lawless element. God knows, sir, I desire the repose of a +private career, yet I am willing to sacrifice myself. Is it your +opinion, Mr. Saul, that I should move in this matter?" + +"I advise you didn't," said Mr. Saul, with disappointing +alacrity. + +The judge looked at him fixedly. + +"Am I wrong in supposing, Mr. Saul, that if I determine to act as +I have outlined I shall have your indorsement?" he demanded. Mr. +Saul looked extremely uncomfortable; he was finding the judge's +effulgent personality rather compelling. "There is no gentleman +whose support I should value in quite the same sense that I +should value yours, Mr. Saul; I should like to feel my course met +with your full approval," pursued the judge, with charming +deference. + +"You'll get yourself shot full of holes," said Mr. Saul. + +"What causes me to hesitate is this: my name is unfamiliar to +your citizens. You know their prejudices, Mr. Saul; how would +they regard me if I put myself forward?" + +"Can't say how they would take it," rejoined Mr. Saul. + +Again the judge gave him a fixed scrutiny. Then ha shook him +warmly by the hand. + +"Think of what I have said; ponder it, sir, and let me have your +answer at another time." And he backed from Mr. Saul's presence +with spectacular politeness. + +"A cheap mind!" thought the judge, as he hurried up the street. + +He broached the subject to Mr. Wesley the postmaster, to Mr. +Ellison the gunsmith, to Mr. Pegloe, employing much the same +formula he had used with Mr. Saul, and with results almost +identical. He imagined there must be some conspiracy afoot to +keep him out of the public eye, and in the end he managed to lose +his temper. + +"Hasn't Norton any friends?" he demanded of Pegloe. "Who's going +to be safe at this rate? We want to let some law into west +Tennessee, a hanging or two would clear the air!" His emotions +became a rage that blew through him like a gale, shaking him to +his center. + +Two mornings later he found where it had been placed under his +door during the night a folded paper. It contained a single line +of writing: + + +"You talk too much. Shut up, or you'll go where Norton went." + + +Now the judge was accessible to certain forms of fear. He was, +for instance, afraid of snakes--both kinds--and mobs he had +dreaded desperately since his Pleasantville experience; but +beyond this, fear remained an unexplored region to Slocum Price, +and as he examined the scrawl a smile betokening supreme +satisfaction overspread his battered features. He was agreeably +affected by the situation; indeed he was delighted. His +activities were being recognized; he had made his impression; the +cutthroats had selected him to threaten. Well, the damned +rascals showed their good sense; he'd grant them that! Swelling +with pride, he carried the scrawl to Mahaffy. + +"They are forming their estimate of me, Solomon; I shall have +them on the run yet!" he declared. + +"You are going out of your way to hunt trouble--as if you hadn't +enough at the best of times, Price! Let these people manage +their own affairs, don't you mix up in them," advised the +conservative Mahaffy. + +The judge drew himself up with an air of lofty pride. + +"Do you think I am going to be silenced, intimidated, by this +sort of thing? No, sir! No, Solomon, the stopper isn't made +that will fit my mouth." + +A few moments later he burst in on Mr. Saul. + +"Glance at that, my friend!" he cried, as he tossed the paper on +the clerk's desk. "Eh, what?--no joke about that, Mr. Saul. I +found it under my door this morning." Mr. Saul glanced at the +penciled lines and drew in his breath sharply. "What do you make +of it, sir?" demanded the judge anxiously. + +"Well, of course, you'll do as you please, but I'd keep still." + +"You mean you regard this as an authentic expression, sir, and +not as the joke of some irresponsible humorist?" + +"It's authentic enough," said Mr. Saul impatiently. + +The judge gave a sigh of relief; he could have hugged the little +clerk who had put to rest certain miserable doubts that had +assailed him. + +"Sir, I wish it known that I hold the writer and his threats in +contempt; if I have given offense it is to an element I shall +never seek to conciliate." Mr. Saul was clearly divided between +his admiration for the judge's courage and fear for his safety. +"One thing is proven, sir," the judge went on; "the man who +murdered that poor boy is in our midst; that point can no longer +be disputed. Now, where are their fine-spun theories as to how +he crossed to the Arkansas coast? What does their mass of +speculation and conjecture amount to in the face of this?" He +breathed deep. "My God, sir, the murderer may be the very next +man you pass the time of day with!" Mr. Saul shivered +uncomfortably. "And the case in the hands of that pin-headed +fool, Betts!" The judge laughed derisively as he bowed himself +out. He left it with Mr. Saul to disseminate the news. +The judge strutted home with his hat cocked over one eye, and his +chest expanded to such limits that it menaced all his waistcoat +buttons. Perhaps he was under observation. Ah, let the +cutthroats look their full at him! + +He established himself in his office. He had scarcely done so +when Mr. Betts knocked at the door. The sheriff came direct from +Mr. Saul and arrived out of breath, but the letter was not +mentioned by the judge. He spoke of the crops, the chance of +rain, and the intricacies of county politics. The sheriff +withdrew mystified, wondering why it was he had not felt at +liberty to broach the subject which was uppermost in his mind. +His place was taken by Mr. Pegloe, and on the heels of the +tavern-keeper came Mr. Bowen. Judge Price received them with +condescension, but back of the condescension was an air of +reserve that did not invite questions. The judge discussed the +extension of the national roads with Mr. Pegloe, and the religion +of the Persian fire-worshipers with Mr. Bowen; he permitted never +a pause and they retired as the sheriff had done without sight of +the letter. + +The judge's office became a perfect Mecca. for the idle and the +curious, and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had +never seemed so unapproachable--never so remote from matters of +local and contemporary interest. + +"Why don't you show 'em the letter?" demanded Mr. Mahaffy, when +they were alone. "Can't you see they are suffering for a sight +of it?" + +"All in good time, Solomon." He became thoughtful. "Solomon, I +am thinking of offering a reward for any information that will +lead to the discovery of my anonymous correspondent," he at +length observed with a finely casual air, as if the idea had just +occurred to him, and had not been seething in his brain all day. + +"There you go, Price--" began Mahaffy. + +"Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back. I shall offer a +reward of five thousand dollars for this information." The +judge's tone was resolute. "Yes, sir, I shall make the figure +commensurate with the poignant grief I feel. He was my friend +and client--" The moisture gathered in his eyes. + +"I should think that fifty dollars was nearer to being your +figure," suggested the cautious Mahaffy. + +"Inadequate and most insulting," said the judge. + +"Well, where do you expect to get five thousand dollars?" cried +Mahaffy in a tone of absolute exasperation. + +"Where would I get fifty?" inquired the judge mildly. + +For once Mahaffy frankly owned himself beaten. A gleam of +admiration lit up his glance. + +"Price, you have a streak of real greatness!" he declared. + +Before the day was over it was generally believed that the judge +was wearing his gag with humility; interest in him declined, +still the public would have been grateful for a sight of that +letter. + +"Shucks, he's nothing but an old windbag!" said Mr. Pegloe to a +group of loungers gathered before his tavern in the early +evening. + +As he spoke, the judge's door opened and that gentleman appeared +on his threshold with a lighted candle in each hand. Glancing +neither to the right nor the left he passed out and up the +street. Not a breath of wind was blowing and the flames of the +two candles burnt clear and strong, lighting up his stately +advance. + +At the corner of the court-house green stood a row of locust +hitching posts. Two of these the judge decorated with his +candles, next he measured off fifteen paces, strides as liberal +as he could make them without sacrifice to his dignity; he scored +a deep line in the dust with the heel of his boot, toed it +squarely, and drew himself up to his fullest height. His right +hand was seen to disappear under the frayed tails of his coat, it +reappeared and was raised with a movement quicker than the eye +could follow and a pistol shot rang out. One of the candles was +neatly snuffed. + +The judge allowed himself a covert glance in the direction of the +loungers before the tavern. He was aware that a larger audience +was assembling. A slight smile relaxed the firm set of his lips. +The remaining candle sputtered feebly. The judge walked to the +post and cleared the wick from tallow with his thumb-nail. There +was no haste in any of his movements; his was the deliberation of +conscious efficiency. Resuming his former station back of the +line he had drawn in the dusty road he permitted his eye to gauge +the distance afresh, then his hand was seen to pass deftly to his +left hip pocket, the long barrel of the rifle pistol was leveled, +the piece cracked, and the candle's yellow flame vanished. + +The judge pocketed his pistol, walked down the street, and with +never a glance toward the tavern reentered his house. + +The next morning it was discovered that sometime during the night +the judge had tacked his anonymous communication on the +court-house door; just below it was another sheet of paper +covered with bold script: + + +"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Judge Slocum Price assumes that the +above was intended for him since he found it under his office +door on the morning of the twenty-fifth inst. + +"Judge Price begs leave to state it as his unqualified conviction +that the writer is a coward and a cur, and offers a reward of +five thousand dollars for any information that will lead to his +identification. + +"Judge Price has stated that he would conduct an intelligently +directed investigation of the Norton murder mystery without +remuneration. He has the honor to assure his friends that he is +still willing to do so; however, he takes this opportunity to +warn the public that each day's delay is a matter of the utmost +gravity. + +"Furthermore, judge Price avails himself on this occasion to say +that he has no wish to avoid personal conclusions with the +murderers and cutthroats who are terrorizing this community; on +the contrary, he will continue earnestly to seek such personal +conclusions." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CABIN ACROSS THE BAYOU + + +Tom Ware was seated alone over his breakfast. He had left his +bed as the pale morning light crept across the great fields that +were alike his pride and his despair--what was the use of trying +to sleep when sleep was an impossibility! The memory of that +tragedy at the church door was a black horror to him; it gave +substance to his dreams, it brought him awake with writhing lips +that voiced his fear in the dead stillness of the night. The +days were scarcely less terrible. Steeled and resolute as his +will could make him, he was not able to speak of what he had seen +with composure. Being as he was in this terribly perturbed state +he had shirked his morning toilet and presented a proportionately +haggard and unkempt appearance. He was about to quit the table +when big Steve entered the room to say there was a white fellow +at the door wished to see him. + +"Fetch him along in here," said Ware briefly, without lifting his +bloodshot eyes. + +Brought into his presence the white fellow delivered a penciled +note which proved to be from Murrell, and then on Ware's +invitation partook of whisky. When he was gone, the planter +ordered his horse, and while he waited for it to be brought up +from the stables, reread Murrell's note. The expression of his +unprepossessing features indicated what was passing in his mind, +his mood was one of sullen rebellion. He felt Murrell was bent +on committing him to an aggregate of crime he would never have +considered possible, and all for love of a girl--a pink-cheeked, +white-faced chit of a girl--disgust boiled up within him, rage +choked him; this was the rotten spot in Murrell's make-up, the +man was mad-stark mad! + +As Ware rode away from Belle Plain he cursed him under his breath +with vindictive thoroughness. His own inclination toward evil +was never very robust; he could have connived and schemed over a +long period of years to despoil Betty of her property, he would +have counted this a legitimate field for enterprise; but murder +and abduction was quite another thing. He would wash his hands +of all further connection with Murrell, he had other things to +lose besides Belle Plain, and the present would be as good a time +as any to let the outlaw know he could be coerced and bullied no +longer. But he had a saving recollection of the way in which +Murrell dealt with what he counted treachery; an unguarded word, +and he would not dare to travel those roads even at broad +noon-day, while to pass before a lighted window at night would be +to invite death; nowhere would he be safe. + +Three miles from Belle Plain he entered a bridle path that led +toward the river; he was now traversing a part of the Quintard +tract. Two miles from the point where he had quitted the main +road he came out upon the shores of a wide bayou. Looking across +this he saw at a distance of half a mile what seemed to be a +clearing of considerable extent, it was the first sign of human +occupation he had seen since leaving Belle Plain. + +An impenetrable swamp defended the head of the bayou which he +skirted. Doubling back as though he were going to retrace his +steps to Belle Plain, finally he gained a position opposite the +clearing which still showed remotely across the wide reach of +sluggish water. Here he dismounted and tied his horse, then as +one tolerably familiar with the locality and its resources, he +went down to the shore and launched a dugout which he found +concealed in some bushes; entering it he pointed its blunt bow in +the direction of the clearing opposite. A growth of small timber +was still standing along the water's edge, but as he drew nearer, +those betterments which the resident of that lonely spot had seen +fit to make for his own convenience, came under his scrutiny; +these consisted of a log cabin and several lesser sheds. +Landing and securing his dug-out by the simple expedient of +dragging half its length out of the water, he advanced toward the +cabin. As he did so he saw two women at work heckling flax under +an open shed. They were the wife and daughter of George Hicks, +his overseer's brother. + +"Morning, Mrs. Hicks," he said, addressing himself to the mother, +a hulking ruffian of a woman. + +"Howdy, sir?" she answered. Her daughter glanced indifferently +in Ware's direction. She was a fine strapping girl, giving that +sense of physical abundance which the planter admired. + +"They'd better keep her out of Murrell's way!" he thought; aloud +he said, "Anybody with the captain?" + +"Colonel Fentress is." + +"Humph!" muttered Ware. He moved to the door of the cabin and +pushing it open, entered the room where Murrell and Fentress were +seated facing each other across the breakfast table. The planter +nodded curtly. He had not seen Murrell since the murder, and the +sight of him quickened the spirit of antagonism which he had been +nursing. "You roust a fellow out early enough!" he grumbled, +rubbing his unshaven chin with the back of his hand. + +"I was afraid you'd be gone somewhere. Sit down--here, between +the colonel and me," said Murrell. + +"Well, what the devil do you want of me anyhow?" demanded the +planter. + +"How's your sister, Tom?" inquired Murrell. + +"I reckon she's the way you'd expect her to be." Ware dropped +his voice to a whisper. Those women were just the other side of +the logs, he could hear them at their work. + +"Who's at Belle Plain now?" continued Murrell. + +"Bowen's wife and daughter have stayed," answered Ware, still in +a whisper. + +"For how long, Tom? Do you know?" + +"They were to go home after breakfast this morning; the +daughter's to come out again to-morrow and stay with Betty until +she leaves." + +"What's that you're saying?" cried Murrell. + +"She's going back to North Carolina to those friends of hers; +it's no concern of mine, she does what she likes without +consulting me." There was a brief pause during which Murrell +scowled at the planter. + +"I reckon your heart's tender, too!" he presently said. Ware's +dull glance shifted to Fentress, but the colonel's cold and +impassive exterior forbade the thought that his sympathy had been +roused. + +"It isn't that," Ware muttered, moistening his lips. He felt the +utter futility of opposition. "I am for letting things rest just +where they are," again his voice slid into a husky whisper. +"You'll be running all our heads into a halter, the first thing +you know--and this isn't any place to talk over such matters, +there are too many people about." + +"There's only Bess and the old woman busy outside," said Murrell. + +"What's to hinder them from sticking an ear to a chink in the +logs?" + +"Go on, and finish what you've got to say, and get it off your +mind," said Murrell. + +"Well, then, I want to tell you that I consider you didn't regard +me at all in the way you managed that business at the church! If +I had known what was due to happen there, do you think I'd have +gone near the place? But you let me go! I met you on the road +and you told me you'd learned Norton had been to see Bowen, you +told me that much, but you didn't tell me near all you might!" +Ware was bitter and resentful; again he felt the sweat of a +mortal terror drip from him. + +"It was the best thing for you that it happened the way it did," +rejoined Murrell coolly. "No one will ever think you had a hand +in it." + +"It wasn't right! You placed me in the meanest kind of a +situation," objected Ware sullenly, mopping his face. + +"Did you think I was going to let the marriage take place? You +knew he had been warned to keep away from her," said Murrell. +There was a movement overhead in the loft, the loose clapboards +with which it was floored creaked under a heavy tread. + +"Who's that? Hicks?" asked Ware. + +"It isn't Hicks--never mind who it is, Tom," answered Murrell +quietly. + +"I thought you'd sent him out of the county?" muttered Ware, his +face livid. + +"Look here, Tom, I don't ask your help, but I won't stand your +interference. I'm going to have the girl." + +"John, you'll ruin yourself with your damned crazy infatuation!" +It was Fentress, no longer able to control himself, who spoke. + +"No, I won't, Colonel, but I'm not going to discuss that. All I +want is for Tom to go to Memphis and stay there for a couple of +days. When he comes back Belle Plain and its niggers will be as +good as his. I am going to take the girl away from there +to-night. I don't ask your help and you needn't ask what comes +of her afterward. That will be my affair." Murrell's burning +eyes shifted from one to the other. + +"A beautiful and accomplished young lady--a great heiress--is to +disappear and no solution of the mystery demanded by the public +at large!" said Fentress with an acid smile. Murrell laughed +contemptuously. + +"What's all this fuss over Norton's death amounted to?" he said. + +"Are you sure you have come to the end of that, John?" inquired +Fentress, still smiling. + +"I don't propose to debate this further," rejoined Murrell +haughtily. Instantly the colonel's jaw became rigid. The +masterful airs of this cutthroat out of the hills irked him +beyond measure. Murrell turned to Ware. + +"How soon can you get away from here, Tom?" he asked abruptly. + +"By God, I can't go too soon!" cried the planter, staggering to +his feet. He gave Fentress a hopeless beaten look. "You're my +witness that first and last I've no part in this!" he added. + +The colonel merely shrugged his shoulders. Murrell reached out a +detaining hand and rested it on Ware's arm. + +"Keep your wits about you, Tom, and within a week people will +have forgotten all about Norton and your sister. I am going to +give them something else to worry over." + +Ware went from the cabin, and as the door swung shut Fentress +faced Murrell across the table. + +"I've gone as far with you in this affair as I can go; after all, +as you say, it is a private matter. You reap the benefits--you +and Tom between you--I shall give you a wide berth until you come +to your senses. Frankly, if you think that in this late day in +the world you can carry off an unwilling girl, your judgment is +faulty." + +"Hold on, Colonel--how do you know she is going to prove +unwilling?" objected Murrell, grinning. + +Fentress gave him a glance of undisguised contempt and rose from +his seat. + +"I admit your past successes, John--that is, I take your word for +them--but Miss Malroy is a lady." + +"I have heard enough!" said Murrell angrily. + +"So have I, John," retorted the colonel in a tone that was +unvexed but final, "and I shall count it a favor if you will +never refer to her in my hearing." He moved in the direction of +the door. + +"Oh, you and I are not going to lose our tempers over this!" +began Murrell. "Come, sit down again, Colonel!" he concluded +with great good nature. + +"We shall never agree, John--you have one idea and I another." + +"We'll let the whole matter drop out of our talk. Look here, how +about the boy--are you ready for him if I can get my hands on +him?" + +Fentress considered. From the facts he had gathered he knew that +the man who called himself Judge Price must soon run his course +in Raleigh, and then as inevitably push out for fresh fields. +Any morning might find him gone and the boy with him. + +"I can't take him to my place as I had intended doing; under the +circumstances that is out of the question," he said at length. + +"Of course; but I'll send him either up or down the river and +place him in safe keeping where you can get him any time you +want." + +"This must be done without violence, John!" stipulated Fentress. + +"Certainly, I understand that perfectly well. It wouldn't suit +your schemes to have that brace of old sots handled by the Clan. +Which shall it be--up or down river?" + +"Could you take care of him for me below, at Natchez?" inquired +Fentress. + +"As well there as anywhere, Colonel, and he'll pass into safe +hands; he won't give me the slip the second time!" + +"Good!" said Fentress, and took his leave. + +From the window Murrell watched him cross the clearing, followed +by the girl, Bess, who was to row him over to the opposite shore. +He reflected that these men--the Wares and Fentresses and their +like--were keen enough where they had schemes of their own they +wished put through; it was only when he reached out empty hands +that they reckoned the consequences. + +Three-quarters of an hour slipped by, then, piercing the silence, +Murrell heard a shrill whistle; it was twice repeated; he saw +Bess go down to the landing again. A half-hour elapsed and a man +issued from the scattering growth of bushes that screened the +shore. The new-comer crossed the clearing and entered the cabin. +He was a young fellow of twenty-four or five, whose bronzed and +sunburnt face wore a somewhat reckless expression. + +"Well, Captain, what's doing?" he asked, as he shook hands with +Murrell. + +"I've been waiting for you, Hues," said Murrell. He continued, +"I reckon the time's here when nothing will be gained by delay." + +Hues dropped down on a three-legged stool and looked at the +outlaw fixedly and in silence for a moment. At length he nodded +understandingly. + +"You mean?" + +"If anything's to be done, now is the time. What have you to +report?" + +"Well, I've seen the council of each Clan division. They are +ripe to start this thing off." + +Murrell gave him a moment of moody regard. + +"Twice already I've named the day and hour, but now I'm going to +put it through!" He set his teeth and thrust out his jaw. + +"Captain, you're the greatest fellow in America! Inside of a +week men who have never been within five hundred miles of you +will be asking each other who John Murrell is!" + +Murrell had expected to part with Hues then and there and for all +time, but Hues possessed qualities which might still be of use to +him. + +"What do you expect to do for yourself?" he demanded. The other +laughed shortly. + +"Captain, I'm going to get rich while I have the chance. Ain't +that what we are all after?" + +"How?" inquired Murrell quietly. Hues shifted his seat. + +"I'm sensitive about calling things by their short names;" he +gave way to easy laughter; "but if you've got anything special +you're saving for yourself, I'm free to say I'd rather take +chances with you than with another," he finished carelessly. + +"Hues, you must start back across Tennessee. Make it Sunday at +midnight--that's three days off." Unconsciously his voice sank +to a whisper. + +"Sunday at midnight," repeated Hues slowly. + +"When you have passed the word into middle Tennessee, turn south +and make the best of your way to New Orleans. Don't stop for +anything--push through as fast as you can. You'll find me there. +I've a notion you and I will quit the country together." + +"Quit the country! Why, Captain, who's talking of quitting the +country?" + +"You speak as though you were fool enough to think the niggers +would accomplish something!" said Murrell coolly. "There will be +confusion at first, but there are enough white men in the +southwest to handle a heap better organized insurrection than +we'll be able to set going. Our fellows will have to use their +heads as well as their hands or they are likely to help the +nigger swallow his medicine. I look for nothing else than +considerable of a shake-up along the Mississippi . . . what with +lynchers and regulators a man will have to show a clean bill of +health to be allowed to live, no matter what his color--just +being white won't help him any!" + +"No, you're right, it won't!" and again Hues gave way to easy +laughter. + +"When you've done your work you strike south as I tell you and +join me. I'm going to keep New Orleans for myself--it's my +ambition to destroy the city Old Hickory saved!" + +"And then it's change your name and strike out for Texas with +what you've picked up!" + +"No, it isn't! I'll have my choice of men--a river full of +ships. Look here, there's South America, or some of those +islands in the gulf with a black-and-tan population and a few +white mongrels holding on to civilization by their eye-teeth; +what's to hinder our setting up shop for ourselves? Two or three +hundred Americans could walk off with an island like Hayti, for +instance--and it's black with niggers. What we'd done here would +be just so much capital down there. We'd make it a +stamping-ground for the Clan! In the next two years we could +bring in a couple of thousand Americans and then we'd be ready to +take over their government, whether they liked it or not, and run +it at a profit. We'd put the niggers back in slavery where they +belong, and set them at work raising sugar and tobacco for their +new bosses. Man, it's the richest land in the world, I tell you +--and the mountains are full of gold!" + +Hues had kindled with a ready enthusiasm while Murrell was +speaking. + +"That sounds right, Captain--we'd have a country and a flag of +our own--and I look at those free niggers as just so much boot!" + +"I shall take only picked men with me--I can't give ship room to +any other--but I want you. You'll join me in New Orleans?" said +Murrell. + +"When do you start south?" asked Hues quickly. + +"Inside of two days. I've got some private business to settle +before I leave. I'll hang round here until that's attended to." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE JUDGE EXTENDS HIS CREDIT + + +That afternoon Judge Price walked out to Belle Plain. Solomon +Mahaffy had known that this was a civility Betty Malroy could by +no means escape. He had been conscious of the judge's purpose +from the moment it existed in the germ state, and he had striven +to divert him, but his striving had been in vain, for though the +judge valued Mr. Mahaffy because of certain sterling qualities +which he professed to discern beneath the hard crust that made up +the external man, he was not disposed to accept him as his mentor +in nice matters of taste and gentlemanly feeling. He owed it to +himself personally to tender his sympathy. Miss Malroy must have +heard something of the honorable part he had played; surely she +could not be in ignorance of the fact that the lawless element, +dreading his further activities, had threatened him. She must +know, too, about that reward of five thousand dollars. Certainly +her grief could not blind her to the fact that he had met the +situation with a largeness of public spirit that was an +impressive lesson to the entire community.' + +These were all points over which he and Mahaffy had wrangled, and +he felt that his friend, in seeking to keep him away from Belle +Plain, was standing squarely in his light. He really could not +understand Solomon or his objections. He pointed out that Norton +had probably left a will--no one knew yet--probably his estate +would go to his intended wife--what more likely? He understood +Norton had cousins somewhere in middle Tennessee--there was the +attractive possibility of extended litigation. Miss Malroy +needed a strong, clear brain to guide her past those difficulties +his agile fancy assembled in her path. He beamed on his friend +with a wide sunny smile. + +"You mean she needs a lawyer, Price?" insinuated Mahaffy. + +"That slap at me, Solomon, is unworthy of you. Just name some +one, will you, who has shown an interest comparable to mine? I +may say I have devoted my entire energy to her affairs, and with +disinterestedness. I have made myself felt. Will you mention +who else these cutthroats have tried to browbeat and frighten? +They know that my theories and conclusions are a menace to them! +I got 'em in a panic, sir--presently some fellow will lose his +nerve and light out for the tall timber--and it will be just +Judge Slocum Price who's done the trick--no one else!" + +"Are you looking for some one to take a pot shot at you?" +inquired Mahaffy sourly. + +"Your remark uncovers my fondest hope, Solomon--I'd give five +years of my life just to be shot at--that would round out the +episode of the letter nicely;" again the judge beamed on Mahaffy +with that wide and sunny smile of his. + +"Why don't you let the boy go alone, Price?" suggested Mahaffy. +He lacked that sense of sublime confidence in the judge's tact +and discretion of which the judge, himself, entertained never a +doubt. + +"I shall not obtrude myself, Solomon; I shall merely walk out to +Belle Plain and leave a civil message. I know what's due Miss +Malroy in her bereaved state--she has sustained no ordinary loss, +and in no ordinary fashion. She has been the center of a +striking and profoundly moving tragedy! I would give a good deal +to know if my late client left a will--" + +"You might ask her," said Mahaffy cynically. "Nothing like going +to headquarters for the news!" + +"Solomon, Solomon, give me credit for common sense--go further, +and give me credit for common decency! Don't let us forget that +ever since we came here she has manifested a charmingly +hospitable spirit where we are concerned!" + +"Wouldn't charity hit nearer the mark, Price?" + +"I have never so regarded it, Solomon," said the judge mildly. +"I have read a different meaning in the beef and flour and +potatoes she's sent here. I expect if the truth could be known +to us she is wondering in the midst of her grief why I haven't +called, but she'll appreciate the considerate delicacy of a +gentleman. I wish it were possible to get cut flowers in this +cussed wilderness!" + +The judge had been occupied with a simple but ingenious toilet. +He had trimmed the frayed skirts of, his coat; then by turning +his cuffs inside out and upside down a fresh surface made its +first public appearance. Next his shoes had engaged his +attention. They might have well discouraged a less resolute and +resourceful character, but with the contents of his ink-well he +artfully colored his white yarn socks where they showed though +the rifts in the leather. This the judge did gaily, now humming +a snatch of song, now listening civilly to Mahaffy, now replying +with undisturbed cheerfulness. Last of all he clapped his dingy +beaver on his head, giving it an indescribably jaunty slant, and +stepped to the door. + +"Well, wish me luck, Solomon, I'm off--come, Hannibal!" he said. +At heart he cherished small hope of seeing Betty, advantageous as +he felt an interview might prove. However, on reaching Belle +Plain he and Hannibal were shown into the cool parlor by little +Steve. It was more years than the judge cared to remember since +he had put his foot inside such a house, but with true grandeur +of soul he rose to the occasion; a sublimated dignity shone from +every battered feature, while he fixed little Steve with so +fierce a glance that the grin froze on his lips. + +"You are to say that judge Slocum Price presents his compliments +and condolences to Miss Malroy--have you got that straight, you +pinch of soot?" he concluded affably. Little Steve, impressed +alike by the judge's air of condescension and his easy flow of +words, signified that he had. "You may also say that judge +Price's ward, young Master Hazard, presents his compliments and +condolences--" What more the judge might have said was +interrupted by the entrance of Betty, herself. + +"My dear young lady--" the judge bowed, then he advanced toward +her with the solemnity of carriage and countenance he deemed +suitable to the occasion, and her extended hand was engulfed +between his two plump palms. He rolled his eyes heavenward. +"It's the Lord's to deal with us as His own inscrutable wisdom +dictates," he murmured with pious resignation. "We are all +poorer, ma'am, that he has died--just as we were richer while he +lived!" The rich cadence of the judge's speech fell sonorously +on the silence, and that look of horror which had never quite +left Betty's eyes since they saw Charley Norton fall, rose out of +their clear depths again. The judge, instantly stricken with a +sense of the inadequacy of his words, doubled on his spiritual +tracks. "In a round-about way, ma'am, we're bound to believe in +the omnipresence of Providence--we must think it--though a body +might be disposed to hold that west Tennessee had got out of the +line of divine supervision recently. Let me lead you to a chair, +ma'am!" + +Hannibal had slipped to Betty's side and placed his hand in hers. +The judge regarded the pair with great benevolence of expression. +"He would come, and I hadn't the heart to forbid it. If I can be +of any service to you, ma'am, either in the capacity of a +friend--or professionally--I trust you will not hesitate to +command me--" The judge backed toward the door. + +"Did you walk out, Judge Price?" asked Betty kindly. + +"Nothing more than a healthful exercise--but we will not detain +you, ma'am; the pleasure of seeing you is something we had not +reckoned on!" The judge's speech was thick and unctuous with +good feeling. He wished that Mahaffy might have been there to +note the reserve and dignity of his deportment. + +"But you must let me order luncheon for you," said Betty. At +least this questionable old man was good to Hannibal. + +"I couldn't think of it, ma'am--" + +"You'll have a glass of wine, then," urged Betty hospitably. For +the moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's +besetting sin. + +The judge paused abruptly. He endured a moment of agonizing +irresolution. + +"On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine--gout, +ma'am, and liver--but this restriction does not apply to corn +whisky--in moderation, and as a tonic--either before meals, +immediately after meals or at any time between meals--always +keeping in mind the idea of its tonic properties--" The judge +seemed to mellow and ripen. This was much better than having the +dogs sicked on you! His manner toward Betty became almost +fatherly. Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in the midst +of all this splendor--he surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and +when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky, +audibly smacked his lips--a whole lot better, surely! + +"I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price," said +Betty. She still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had +thrust into hers. + +"The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to +think my share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the +bulk of my professional correspondence." In ten years the judge +had received just one communication by mail--a bill which had +followed him through four states and seven counties. "I expect +my secretary--" boldly fixing Solomon Mahaffy's status, "is +already dipping into it; an excellent assistant, ma'am, but +literary rather than legal." + +Little Steve reappeared bearing a silver tray on which was a +decanter and glass. + +"Since you insist, ma'am," the judge poured himself a drink, "my +best respects--" he bowed profoundly. + +"If you are quite willing, judge, I think I will keep Hannibal. +Miss Bowen, who has been here--since--" her voice broke suddenly. + +"I understand, ma'am," said the judge soothingly. He gave her a +glance of great concern and turned to Hannibal. "Dear lad, +you'll be very quiet and obedient, and do exactly as Miss Malroy +says? When shall I come for him, ma'am?" + +"I'll send him to you when he is ready to go home. I am thinking +of visiting my friends in North Carolina, and I should like to +have him spend as much time as possible with me before I start +for the East." + +It had occurred to Betty that she had done little or nothing for +the child; probably this would be her last opportunity. + +The state of the judge's feelings was such that with elaborate +absence of mind he poured himself a second drink of whisky; and +that there should be no doubt the act was one of inadvertence, +said again, "My best respects, ma'am," and bowed as before. +Putting down the glass he backed toward the door. + +"I trust you will not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of any +use to you, ma'am--a message will bring me here without a +moment's delay." He was rather disappointed that no allusion had +been made to his recent activities. He reasoned correctly that +Betty was as yet in ignorance of the somewhat dangerous eminence +he had achieved as the champion of law and order. However, he +reflected with satisfaction that Hannibal, in remaining, would +admirably serve his ends. + +Betty insisted that he should be driven home, and after faintly +protesting, the judge gracefully yielded the point, and a few +moments later rolled away from Belle Plain behind a pair of +sleek-coated bays, with a negro in livery on the box. He was +conscious of a great sense of exaltation. He felt that he should +paralyze Mahaffy. He even temporarily forgot the blow his hopes +had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to North Carolina. +This was life--broad acres and niggers--principally to trot after +you toting liquor--and such liquor!--he lolled back luxuriantly +with half-closed eyes. + +"Twenty years in the wood if an hour!" he muttered. "I'd like to +have just such a taste in my mouth when I come to die--and +probably she has barrels of it!" he sighed deeply, and searched +his soul for words with which adequately to describe that whisky +to Mahaffy. + +But why not do more than paralyze Solomon--that would be pleasant +but not especially profitable. The judge came back quickly to +the vexed problem of his future. He desired to make some +striking display of Miss Malroy's courtesy. He knew that his +credit was experiencing the pangs of an early mortality; he was +not sensitive, yet for some days he had been sensible of the fact +that what he called the commercial class was viewing him with +open disfavor, but he must hang on in Raleigh a little longer +--for him it had become the abode of hope. The judge considered +the matter. At least he could let people see something of that +decent respect with which Miss Malroy treated him. + +They were entering Raleigh now, and he ordered the coachman to +pull his horses down to a walk. He had decided to make use of +the Belle Plain turnout in creating an atmosphere of confidence +and trust--especially trust. To this end he spent the best part +of an hour interviewing his creditors. It amounted almost to a +mass-meeting of the adult male population, for he had no +favorites. When he invaded virgin territory he believed in +starting the largest possible number of accounts without delay. +The advantage of his system, as he explained its workings to +Mahaffy, was that it bred a noble spirit of emulation. +He let it be known in a general way that things were looking up +with him; just in what quarter he did not specify, but there he +was, seated in the Belle Plain carriage and the inference was +unavoidable that Miss Malroy was to recognize his activities in a +substantial manner. + +Mahaffy, loafing away the afternoon in the county clerk's office, +heard of the judge's return. He heard that Charley Norton had +left a will; that Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the +Norton cousins in middle Tennessee were going to put up a fight; +that Judge Price had been retained as counsel by Miss Malroy; +that he was authorized to begin an independent search for Charley +Norton's murderer, and was to spare no expense; that Judge Price +was going to pay his debts. Mahaffy grinned at this and hurried +home. He could believe all but the last, that was the crowning +touch of unreality. + +The judge explained the situation. + +"I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the +cheapest thing in the world and the one thing we are most miserly +about extending to our fellows. These people all feel better +--and what did it cost me?--just a little decent consideration; +just the knowledge of what the unavoidable associations of ideas +in their own minds would do for them!" + +What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the +judge and Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic +celebration. Early candlelight found them making a beginning; +midnight came--the gray and purple of dawn--and they were still +at it, back of closed doors and shuttered windows. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN + + +Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's +glorification, and Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing +of the candles and the reward of five thousand dollars. It +vastly increased the child's sense of importance and satisfaction +when he discovered she had known nothing of these matters until +he told her of them. + +"Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?" she +asked, greatly astonished. + +"He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't +reckon no one will ever tell who wrote the letter--he 'lows the +man who done that will keep pretty mum--he just dassent tell!" +the boy explained. + +"No, I suppose not--" and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the +judge had not assumed any very great financial responsibility. +"He can't be a coward, though, Hannibal!" she added, for she +understood that the risk of personal violence which he ran was +quite genuine. She had formed her own unsympathetic estimate of +him that day at Boggs' race-track; Mahaffy in his blackest hour +could have added nothing to it. Twice since then she had met him +in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first impression. + +"Miss Betty, he's just like my Uncle Bob was- he ain't afraid of +nothing! He totes them pistols of his--loaded--if you notice +good you can see where they bulge out his coat!" Hannibal's +eyes, very round and big, looked up into hers. + +"Is he as poor as he seems, Hannibal?" inquired Betty. + +"He never has no money, Miss Betty, but I don't reckon he's what +a body would call pore." + +It might have baffled a far more mature intelligence than +Hannibal's to comprehend those peculiar processes by which the +judge sustained himself and his intimate fellowship with +adversity--that it was his magnificence of mind which made the +squalor of his daily life seem merely a passing phase--but the +boy had managed to point a delicate distinction, and Betty +grasped something of the hope and faith which never quite died +out in Slocum Price's indomitable breast. + +"But you always have enough to eat, dear?" she questioned +anxiously. Hannibal promptly reassured her on this point. "You +wouldn't let me think anything that was not true, Hannibal--you +are quite sure you have never been hungry?" + +"Never, Miss Betty; honest!" + +Betty gave a sigh of relief. She had been reproaching herself +for her neglect of the child; she had meant to do so much for him +and had done nothing! Now it was too late for her personally to +interest herself in his behalf, yet before she left for the East +she would provide for him. If she had felt it was possible to +trust the judge she would have made him her agent, but even in +his best aspect he seemed a dubious dependence. Tom, for quite +different reasons, was equally out of the question. She thought +of Mr. Mahaffy. + +"What kind of a man is Mr. Mahaffy, Hannibal?" + +"He's an awful nice man, Miss Eetty, only he never lets on; a +body's got to find it out for his own self--he ain't like the +judge." + +"Does he--drink, too, Hannibal?" questioned Betty. + +"Oh, yes; when he can get the licker, he does." It was evident +that Hannibal was cheerfully tolerant of this weakness on the +part of the austere Mahaffy. By this time Betty was ready to +weep over the child, with his knowledge of shabby vice, and his +fresh young faith in those old tatterdemalions. + +"But, no matter what they do, they are very, very kind to you?" +she continued quite tremulously. + +"Yes, ma'am--why, Miss Betty, they're lovely men!" + +"And do you ever hear the things spoken of you learned about at +Mrs. Ferris' Sunday-school?" + +"When the judge is drunk he talks a heap about 'em. It's +beautiful to hear him then; you'd love it, Miss Betty," and +Hannibal smiled up sweetly into her face. + +"Does he have you go to Sunday-school in Raleigh?" + +The boy shook his head. + +"I ain't got no clothes that's fitten to wear, nor no pennies to +give, but the judge, he 'lows that as soon as he can make a raise +I got to go, and he's learning me my letters--but we ain't a +book. Miss Betty, I reckon it'd stump you some to guess how he's +fixed it for me to learn?" + +"He's drawn the letters for you, is that the way?" In spite of +herself, Betty was experiencing a certain revulsion of feeling +where the judge and Mahaffy were concerned. They were doubtless +bad enough, but they could have been worse. + +"No, ma'am; he done soaked the label off one of Mr. Pegloe's +whisky bottles and pasted it on the wall just as high as my chin, +so's I can see it good, and he's learning me that-a-ways! Maybe +you've seen the kind of bottle I mean--Pegloe's Mississippi +Pilot: Pure Corn Whisky?" But Hannibal's bright little face +fell. He was quick to see that the educational system devised by +the judge did not impress Betty at all favorably. She drew him +into her arms. + +"You shall have my books--the books I learned to read out of when +I was a little girl, Hannibal!" + +"I like learning from the label pretty well," said Hannibal +loyally. + +"But you'll like the books better, dear, when you see them. I +know just where they are, for I happened on them on a shelf in +the library only the other day." + +After they had found and examined the books and Hannibal had +grudgingly admitted that they might possess certain points of +advantage over the label, he and Betty went out for a walk. It +was now late afternoon and the sun was sinking behind the wall of +the forest that rose along the Arkansas coast. Their steps had +led them to the terrace where they stood looking off into the +west. It was here that Betty had said good-by to Bruce +Carrington--it might have been months ago, and it was only days. +She thought of Charley--Charley, with his youth and hope and high +courage--unwittingly enough she had led him on to his death! A +sob rose in her throat. + +Hannibal looked up into her face. The memory of his own loss was +never very long absent from his mind, and Miss Betty had been the +victim of a similarly sinister tragedy. He recalled those first +awful days of loneliness through which he had lived, when there +was no Uncle Bob--soft-voiced, smiling and infinitely +companionable. + +"Why, Hannibal, you are crying--what about, dear?" asked Betty +suddenly. + +"No, ma'am; I ain't crying," said Hannibal stoutly, but his wet +lashes gave the lie to his words. + +"Are you homesick--do you wish to go back to the judge and Mr. +Mahaffy?" + +"No, ma'am--it ain't that--I was just thinking--" + +"Thinking about what, dear?" + +"About my Uncle Bob." The small face was very wistful. + +"Oh--and you still miss him so much, Hannibal?" + +"I bet I do--I reckon anybody who knew Uncle Bob would never get +over missing him; they just couldn't, Miss Betty! The judge is +mighty kind, and so is Mr. Mahaffy--they're awful kind, Miss +Betty, and it seems like they get kinder all the time--but with +Uncle Bob, when he liked you, he just laid himself out to let you +know it!" + +"That does make a great difference, doesn't it?" agreed Betty +sadly, and two piteous tearful eyes were bent upon him. + +"Don't you reckon if Uncle Bob is alive, like the judge says, and +he's ever going to find me, he had ought to be here by now?" +continued Hannibal anxiously. + +"But it hasn't been such a great while, Hannibal; it's only that +so much has happened to you. If he was very badly hurt it may +have been weeks before he could travel; and then when he could, +perhaps he went back to that tavern to try to learn what had +become of you. But we may be quite certain he will never abandon +his search until he has made every possible effort to find you, +dear! That means he will sooner or later come to west Tennessee, +for there will always be the hope that you have found your way +here." + +"Sometimes I get mighty tired waiting, Miss Betty," confessed the +boy. "Seems like I just couldn't wait no longer" He sighed +gently, and then his face cleared. "You reckon he'll come most +any time, don't you, Miss Betty ?" + +"Yes, Hannibal; any day or hour!" + +"Whoop!" muttered Hannibal softly under his breath. Presently he +asked: "Where does that branch take you to?" He nodded toward +the bayou at the foot of the terraced bluff. + +"It empties into the river," answered Betty. + +Hannibal saw a small skiff beached among the cottonwoods that +grew along the water's edge and his eyes lighted up instantly. +He had a juvenile passion for boats. + +"Why, you got a boat, ain't you, Miss Betty?" This was a +charming and an important discovery. + +"Would you like to go down to it?" inquired Betty. + +"'Deed I would! Does she leak any, Miss Betty?" + +"I don't know about that. Do boats usually leak, Hannibal?" + +"Why, you ain't ever been out rowing in her, Miss Betty, have +you?--and there ain't no better fun than rowing a boat!" They +had started down the path. + +"I used to think that, too, Hannibal; how do you suppose it is +that when people grow up they forget all about the really nice +things they might do?" + +"What use is she if you don't go rowing in her?" persisted +Hannibal. + +"Oh, but it is used. Mr. Tom uses it in crossing to the other +side where they are clearing land for cotton. It saves him a +long walk or ride about the head of the bayou." + +"Like I should take you out in her, Miss Betty?' demanded +Hannibal with palpitating anxiety. + +They had entered the scattering timber when Betty paused suddenly +with a startled exclamation, and Hannibal felt her fingers close +convulsively about his. The sound she had heard might have been +only the rustling of the wind among the branches overhead in that +shadowy silence, but Betty's nerves, the placid nerves of youth +and perfect health, were shattered. + +"Didn't you hear something, Hannibal?" she whispered fearfully. + +For answer Hannibal pointed mysteriously, and glancing in the +direction he indicated, Betty saw a woman advancing along the +path toward them. The look of alarm slowly died out of his eyes. + +"I think it's the overseer's niece," she told Hannibal, and they +kept on toward the boat. + +The girl came rapidly up the path, which closely followed the +irregular line of the shore in its windings. Once she was seen +to stop and glance back over her shoulder, her attitude intent +and listening, then she hurried forward again. Just by the boat +the three met. + +"Good evening!" said Betty pleasantly. + +The girl made no reply to this; she merely regarded Betty with a +fixed stare. At length she broke silence abruptly. + +"I got something I want to say to you--you know who I am, I +reckon?" She was a girl of about Betty's own age, with a certain +dark, sullen beauty and that physical attraction which Tom, in +spite of his vexed mood, had taken note of earlier in the day. + +"You are Bess Hicks," said Betty. + +"Make the boy go back toward the house a spell--I got something I +want to say to you." Betty hesitated. She was offended by the +girl's manner, which was as rude as her speech. "I ain't going +to hurt you--you needn't be afraid of me, I got something +important to say--send him off, I tell you; there ain't no time +to lose!" The girl stamped her foot impatiently. + +Betty made a sign to Hannibal and he passed slowly back along the +path. He went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he +might see what was done, even if he were not to hear what was +said. + +"That will do, Hannibal--wait there--don't go any farther!" Betty +called after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant +to be out of hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary +tone. "Now, what is it? Speak quickly if you have anything to +tell me!" + +"I got a heap to say," answered the girl with a scowl. Her +manner was still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a +certain jealous regard out of her black eyes which the latter was +at a loss to explain. "Where's Mr. Tom?" she demanded. + +"Tom? Why, about the place, I suppose--in his office, perhaps." +So it had to do with Tom. . . . Betty felt sudden disgust with +the situation. + +"No, he ain't about the place, either! He done struck out for +Memphis two hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming +back here to-night--" There was a moment of silence. The girl +looked about apprehensively. She continued, fixing her black +eyes on Betty: "You're here alone at Belle Plain--you know what +happened when Mr. Tom started for Memphis last timeI reckon +you-all ain't forgot that!" + +Betty felt a pallor steal over her face. She rested a hand that +shook on the trunk of a tree to steady herself. The girl laughed +shortly. + +"Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if +anything happened to you?" + +By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself. +She took a step nearer and looked the girl steadily in the face. + +"Perhaps you will stop this sort of talk, and tell me what is +going to happen to me--if you know?" she said quietly. + +"Why do you reckon Mr. Norton was shot? I can tell you why--it +was all along of you--that was why!" The girl's furtive glance, +which searched and watched the gathering shadows, came back as it +always did to Betty's pale face. "You ain't no safer than he +was, I tell you!" and she sucked in her breath sharply between +her full red lips. + +"What do you mean?" faltered Betty. + +"Do you reckon you're safe here in the big house alone? Why do +you reckon Mr. Tom cleared out for Memphis? It was because he +couldn't be around and have anything happen to you--that was +why!" and the girl sank her voice to a whisper. "You quit Belle +Plain now--to-night--just as soon as you can!" + +"This is absurd--you are trying to frighten me!" + +"Did they stop with trying to frighten Charley Norton?" demanded +Bess with harsh insistence. + +Whatever the promptings that inspired this warning, they plainly +had nothing to do with either liking or sympathy. Her dominating +emotion seemed to be a sullen sort of resentment which lit up her +glance with a dull fire; yet her feelings were so clearly and so +keenly personal that Betty understood the motive that had brought +her there. The explanation, she found, left her wondering just +where and how her own fate was linked with that of this poor +white. + +"You have been waiting some time to see me?" she asked. + +"Ever since along about noon." + +"You were afraid to come to the house?" + +"I didn't want to be seen there." + +"And yet you knew I was alone." + +"Alone--but how do you know who's watching the place?" + +"Do you think there was reason to be afraid of that?" asked +Betty. + +Again the girl stamped her foot with angry impatience. + +"You're just wastin' time--just foolin' it away--and you ain't +got none to spare!" + +"You must tell me what I have to fear--I must know more or I +shall stay just where I am!" + +"Well, then, stay!" The girl turned away, and then as quickly +turned back and faced Betty once more. "I reckon he'd kill me if +he knew--I reckon I've earned that already--" + +"Of whom are you speaking?" + +"He'll have you away from here to-night!" + +"He? . . . who? . . . and what if I refuse to go?" + +"Did they ask Charley Norton whether he wanted to live or die?" +came the sinister question. + +A shiver passed through Betty. She was seeing it all again +--Charley as he groped among the graves with the hand of death +heavy upon him. + +A moment later she was alone. The girl had disappeared. There +was only the shifting shadows as the wind tossed the branches of +the trees, and the bands of golden light that slanted along the +empty path. The fear of the unknown leaped up afresh in Betty's +soul, in an instant her flying feet had borne her to the boy's +side. + +"Come--come quick, Hannibal!" she gasped out, and seized his +hand. + +"What is it, Miss Betty? What's the matter?" asked Hannibal as +they fled panting up the terraces. + +"I don't know--only we must get away from here just as soon as we +can!" Then, seeing the look of alarm on the child's face, she +added more quietly, "Don't be frightened, dear, only we must go +away from Belle Plain at once." But where they were to go, she +had not considered. + +Reaching the house, they stole up to Betty's room. Her +well-filled purse was the important thing; that, together with +some necessary clothing, went into a small hand-bag. + +"You must carry this, Hannibal; if any one sees us leave the +house they'll think it something you are taking away," she +explained. Hannibal nodded understandingly. + +"Don't you trust your niggers, Miss Betty?" he whispered as they +went from the room. + +"I only trust you, dear!" + +"What makes you go? Was it something that woman told you? Are +they coming after us, Miss Betty? Is it Captain Murrell?" + +"Captain Murrell?" There was less of mystery now, but more of +terror, and her hand stole up to her heart, and, white and slim, +rested against the black fabric of her dress. + +"Don't you be scared, Miss Betty!" said Hannibal. + +They went silently from the house and again crossed the lawn to +the terrace. Under the leafy arch which canopied them there was +already the deep purple of twilight. + +"Do you reckon it were Captain Murrell shot Mr. Norton, Miss +Betty?" asked Hannibal in a shuddering whisper. + +"Hush--Oh, hush, Hannibal! It is too awful to even speak of--" +and, sobbing and half hysterical, she covered her face with her +hands. + +"But where are we going, Miss Betty?" asked the boy. + +"I don't know, dear!" she had an agonizing sense of the night's +approach and of her own utter helplessness. + +"I'll tell you what, Miss Betty, let's go to the judge and Mr. +Mahaffy!" said Hannibal. + +"Judge Price?" She had not thought of him as a possible +protector. + +"Why, Miss Betty, ain't I told you he ain't afraid of nothing? +We could walk to Raleigh easy if you don't want your niggers to +hook up a team for you." + +Betty suddenly remembered the carriage which had taken the judge +into town; she was sure it had not yet returned. + +"We will go to the judge, Hannibal! George, who drove him into +Raleigh, has not come back; if we hurry we may meet him on the +road." + +Screened by the thick shadows, they passed up the path that edged +the bayou; at the head of the inlet they entered a clearing, and +crossing this they came to the corn-field which lay between the +house and the highroad. Following one of the shock rows they +hurried to the mouth of the lane. + +"Hannibal, I don't want to tell the judge why I am leaving Belle +Plain--about the woman, I mean," said Betty. + +"You reckon they'd kill her, don't you, Miss Betty, if they knew +what she'd done?" speculated the boy. It occurred to him that an +adequate explanation of their flight would require preparation, +since the judge was at all times singularly alive to the +slightest discrepancy of statement. They had issued from the +cornfield now and were going along the road toward Raleigh. +Suddenly Betty paused. + +"Hark!" she whispered. + +"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal reassuringly, and +they hurried forward again. In the utter stillness through which +they moved Betty heard the beating of her own heart, and the +soft, and all but inaudible patter of the boy's bare feet on the +warm dust of the road. Vague forms that resolved themselves into +trees and bushes seemed to creep toward them out of the night's +black uncertainty. Once more Betty paused. + +"It were nothing, Miss Betty," said Hannibal as before, and he +returned to his consideration of the judge. He sensed something +of that intellectual nimbleness which his patron's physical +make-up in nowise suggested, since his face was a mask that +usually left one in doubt as to just how much of what he heard +succeeded in making its impression on him; but the boy knew that +Slocum Price's blind side was a shelterless exposure. + +"You don't think the carriage could have passed us while we were +crossing the corn-field?" said Betty. + +"No, I reckon we couldn't a-missed hearing it," answered +Hannibal. He had scarcely spoken when they caught the rattle of +wheels and the beat of hoofs. These sounds swept nearer and +nearer, and then the darkness disgorged the Belle Plain team and +carriage. + +"George!" cried Betty, a world of relief in her tones. + +"Whoa, you!" and George reined in his horses with a jerk. "Who's +dar?" he asked, bending forward on the box as he sought to pierce +the darkness with his glance. + +"George--" + +"Oh, it you, Missy?" + +"Yes, I wish you to drive me into Raleigh," said Betty, and she +and Hannibal entered the carriage. + +"All right, Missy. Yo'-all ready fo' me to go along out o' +here?" + +"Yes--drive fast, George!" urged Betty. + +"It's right dark fo' fas' drivin' Missy, with the road jes' +aimin' fo' to bus' yo' springs with chuckholes!" He had turned +his horses' heads in the direction of Raleigh while he was +speaking. "It's scandalous black in these heah woods, Missy I +'clar' I never seen it no blacker!" + +The carriage swung forward for perhaps a hundred yards, then +suddenly the horses came to a dead stop. + +"Go along on, dar!" cried George, and struck them with his whip, +but the horses only reared and plunged. + +"Hold on, nigger!" said a rough voice out of the darkness. + +"What yo' doin' ?" the coachman gasped. "Don' yo' know dis de +Belle Plain carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!" + +Two men stepped to the side of the carriage. + +"Show your light, Bunker," said the same rough voice that had +spoken before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and +Hannibal uttered a cry of terror. He was looking into the face +of Slosson, the tavern-keeper. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +PRISONERS + + +In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man +named Bunker climbed into the carriage. + +"Don't you be scared, ma'am," said the tavernkeeper, who smelt +strongly of whisky. "I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good +looking female except in kindness." + +"How dare you stop my carriage?" cried Betty, with a very genuine +anger which for the moment dominated all her other emotions. She +struggled to her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and +thrust her back. + +"There now," he urged soothingly. "Why make a fuss? We ain't +going to harm you; we wouldn't for no sum of money. Drive on, +Jim--drive like hell!" This last was addressed to the man who +had taken George's place on the box, where a fourth member of +Slosson's band had forced the coachman down into the narrow space +between the seat and dashboard, and was holding a pistol to his +head while he sternly enjoined silence. + +With a word to the horses Jim swung about and the carriage rolled +off through the night at a breakneck' pace. Betty's shaking +hands drew Hannibal closer to her side as she felt the surge of +her terrors rise within her. Who were these men--where could +they be taking her--and for what purpose? The events of the past +weeks linked themselves in tragic sequence in her mind. + +What was it she had to fear? Was it Tom who had inspired +Norton's murder? Was it Tom for whom these men were acting? Tom +who would profit greatly by her disappearance or death. + +They swept past the entrance at Belle Plain, past a break in the +wall of the forest where the pale light of stars showed Betty the +corn-field she and Hannibal had but lately crossed, and then on +into pitchy darkness again. She clung to the desperate hope that +they might meet some one on the road, when she could cry out and +give the alarm. She held herself in readiness for this, but +there was only the steady pounding of the big bays as Jim with +voice and whip urged them forward. At last he abruptly checked +them, and Bunker and Slosson sprang from their seats. + +"Get down, ma'am!" said the latter. + +"Where are you taking me?" asked Betty, in a voice that shook in +spite of her efforts to control it. + +"You must hurry, ma'am," urged Slosson impatiently. + +"I won't move until I know where you intend taking me!" said +Betty, "If I am to die--" + +Mr. Slosson laughed loudly and indulgently. + +"You ain't. If you don't want to walk, I'm man enough fo' to +tote you. We ain't far to go, and I've tackled jobs I'd a heap +less heart fo' in my time," he concluded gallantly. From the +opposite side of the carriage Bunker swore nervously. He desired +to know if they were to stand there talking all night. "Shut +your filthy mouth, Bunker, and see you keep tight hold of that +young rip-staver," said Slosson. "He's a perfect eel--I've had +dealings with him afore!" + +"You tried to kill my Uncle Bob--at the tavern, you and Captain +Murrell. I heard you, and I seen you drag him to the river!" +cried Hannibal. + +Slosson gave a start of astonishment at this. + +"Why, ain't he hateful?" he exclaimed aghast. "See here, young +feller, that's no kind of a way fo' you to talk to a man who has +riz his ten children!" + +Again Bunker swore, while Jim told Slosson to make haste. This +popular clamor served to recall the tavernkeeper to a sense of +duty. + +"Ma'am, like I should tote you, or will you walk?" he inquired, +and reaching out his hand took hold of Betty. + +"I'll walk," said the girl quickly, shrinking from the contact. + +"Keep close at my heels. Bunker, you tuck along after her with +the boy." + +"What about this nigger?" asked the fourth man. + +"Fetch him along with us," said Slosson. They turned from the +road while he was speaking and entered a narrow path that led off +through the woods, apparently in the direction of the river. A +moment later Betty heard the carriage drive away. They went +onward in silence for a little time, then Slosson spoke over his +shoulder. + +"Yes, ma'am, I've riz ten children but none of 'em was like him +--I trained 'em up to the minute!" Mr. Slosson seemed to have +passed completely under the spell of his domestic recollections, +for he continued with just a touch of reminiscent sadness in his +tone. "There was all told four Mrs. Slossons: two of 'em was +South Carolinians, one was from Georgia, and the last was a widow +lady out of east Tennessee. She'd buried three husbands and I +figured we could start perfectly even." + +The intrinsic fairness of this start made its strong appeal. Mr. +Slosson dwelt upon it with satisfaction. "She had three to her +credit, I had three to mine; neither could crow none over the +other." + +As they stumbled forward through the thick obscurity he continued +his personal revelations, the present enterprise having roused +whatever there was of sentiment slumbering in his soul. At last +they came out on a wide bayou; a white mist hung above it, and on +the low shore leaf and branch were dripping with the night dews. +Keeping close to the water's edge Slosson led the way to a point +where a skiff was drawn up on the bank. + +"Step in, ma'am," he said, when he had launched it. + +"I will go no farther!" said Betty in desperation. She felt an +overmastering fear, the full horror of the unknown lay hold of +her, and she gave a piercing cry for help. Slosson swung about +on his heel and seized her. For a moment she struggled to +escape, but the man's big hands pinioned her. + +"No more of that!" he warned, then he recovered himself and +laughed. "You could yell till you was black in the face, ma'am, +and there'd be no one to hear you." + +"Where are you taking me?" and Betty's voice faltered between the +sudden sobs that choked her. + +"Just across to George Hicks's." + +"For what purpose?" + +"You'll know in plenty of time." And Slosson leered at her +through the darkness. + +"Hannibal is to go with me?" asked Betty tremulously. + +"Sure!" agreed Slosson affably. "Your nigger, too--quite a +party." + +Betty stepped into the skiff. She felt her hopes quicken--she +was thinking of Bess; whatever the girl's motives, she had wished +her to escape. She would wish it now more than ever since the +very thing she had striven to prevent had happened. Slosson +seated himself and took up the oars, Bunker followed with +Hannibal and they pushed off. No word was spoken until they +disembarked on the opposite shore, when Slosson addressed Bunker. +"I reckon I can manage that young rip-staver, you go back after +Sherrod and the nigger," he said. + +He conducted his captives up the bank and they entered a +clearing. Looking across this Betty saw where a cabin window +framed a single square of light. They advanced toward this and +presently the dark outline of the cabin itself became +distinguishable. A moment later Slosson paused, a door yielded +to his hand, and Betty and the boy were thrust into the room +where Murrell had held his conference with Fentress and Ware. +The two women were now its only occupants and the mother, gross +and shapeless, turned an expressionless face on the intruders; +but the daughter shrank into the shadow, her burning glance fixed +on Betty. + +"Here's yo' guests, old lady!" said Mr. Slosson. Mrs. Hicks rose +from the three-legged stool on which she was sitting. + +"Hand me the candle, Bess," she ordered. + +At one side of the room was a steep flight of stairs which gave +access to the loft overhead. Mrs. Hicks, by a gesture, signified +that Betty and Hannibal were to ascend these stairs; they did so +and found themselves on a narrow landing inclosed by a partition +of rough planks, this partition was pierced by a low door. Mrs. +Hicks, who had followed close at their heels, handed the candle +to Betty. + +"In yonder!" she said briefly, nodding toward the door. + +"Wait!" cried Betty in a whisper. + +"No," said the woman with an almost masculine surliness of tone. +"I got nothing to say." She pushed them into the attic, and, +closing the door, fastened it with a stout wooden bar. + +Beyond that door, which seemed to have closed on every hope, +Betty held the tallow dip aloft, and by its uncertain and +flickering light surveyed her prison. The briefest glance +sufficed. The room contained two shakedown beds and a stool, +there was a window in the gable, but a piece of heavy plank was +spiked before it. + +"Miss Betty, don't you be scared," whispered Hannibal. "When the +judge hears we're gone, him and Mr. Mahaffy will try to find us. +They'll go right off to Belle Plain--the judge is always wanting +to do that, only Mr. Mahaffy never lets him but now he won't be +able to stop him." + +"Oh, Hannibal, Hannibal, what can he do there--what can any one +do there?" And a dead pallor overspread the girl's face. To +speak of the blind groping of her friends but served to fix the +horror of their situation in her mind. + +"I don't know, Miss Betty, but the judge is always thinking of +things to do; seems like they was mostly things no one else would +ever think of." + +Betty had placed the candle on the stool and seated herself on +one of the beds. There was the murmur of voices in the room +below; she wondered if her fate was under consideration and what +that fate was to be. Hannibal, who had been examining the +window, returned to her side. + +"Miss Betty, if we could just get out of this loft we could steal +their skiff and row down to the river; I reckon they got just the +one boat; the only way they could get to us would be to swim out, +and if they done that we could pound 'em over the head with the +oars the least little thing sinks you when you're in the water." +But this murderous fancy of his failed to interest Betty. + +Presently they heard Sherrod and Bunker come up from the shore +with George. Slosson joined them and there was a brief +discussion, then an interval of silence, and the sound of voices +again as the three white men moved back across the field in the +direction of the bayou. There succeeded a period of utter +stillness, both in the cabin and in the clearing, a somber hush +that plunged Betty yet deeper in despair. Wild thoughts assailed +her, thoughts against which she struggled with all the strength +of her will. + +In that hour of stress Hannibal was sustained by his faith in the +judge. He saw his patron's powerful and picturesque intelligence +applied to solving the mystery of their disappearance from Belle +Plain; it was inconceivable that this could prove otherwise than +disastrous to Mr. Slosson and he endeavored to share the +confidence he was feeling with Betty, but there was something so +forced and unnatural in the girl's voice and manner when she +discussed his conjectures that he quickly fell into an awed +silence. At last, and it must have been some time after +midnight, troubled slumbers claimed him. No moment of +forgetfulness came to Betty. She was waiting for what--she did +not know! The candle burnt lower and lower and finally went out +and she was left in darkness, but again she was conscious of +sounds from the room below. At first it was only a word or a +sentence, then the guarded speech became a steady monotone that +ran deep into the night; eventually this ceased and Betty fancied +she heard sobs. + +At length points of light began to show through chinks in the +logs. Hannibal roused and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the +backs of his hands. + +"Wasn't you able to sleep none?" he inquired. Betty shook her +head. He looked at her with an expression of troubled concern. +"How soon do you reckon the judge will know?" he asked. + +"Very soon now, dear." Hannibal was greatly consoled by this +opinion. + +"Miss Betty, he will love to find us--" + +"Hark! What was that?" for Betty had caught the distant splash +of oars. Hannibal found a chink in the logs through which by +dint of much squinting he secured a partial view of the bayou. +"They're fetching up a keel boat to the shore, Miss Betty--it's a +whooper!" he announced. Betty's heart sank, she never doubted +the purpose for which that boat was brought into the bayou, or +that it nearly concerned herself. + +Half an hour later Mrs. Hicks appeared with their breakfast. It +was in vain that Betty attempted to engage her in conversation, +either she cherished some personal feeling of dislike for her +prisoner, or else the situation in which she herself was placed +had little to recommend it, even to her dull mind, and her +dissatisfaction was expressed in her attitude toward the girl. + +Betty passed the long hours of morning in dreary speculation +concerning what was happening at Belle Plain. In the end she +realized that the day could go by and her absence occasion no +alarm; Steve might reasonably suppose George had driven her into +Raleigh or to the Bowens' and that she had kept the carriage. +Finally all her hope centered on Judge Price. He would expect +Hannibal during the morning, perhaps when the boy did not arrive +he would be tempted to go out to Belle Plain to discover the +reason of his nonappearance. She wondered what theories would +offer themselves to his ingenious mind, for she sensed something +of that indomitable energy which in the face of rebuffs and +laughter carried him into the thick of every sensation. + +At noon, Mrs. Hicks, as sullen as in the morning, brought them +their dinner. She had scarcely quitted the loft when a shrill +whistle pierced the silence that hung above the clearing. It was +twice repeated, and the two women were heard to go from the +cabin. Perhaps half an hour elapsed, then a step became audible +on the packed earth of the dooryard; some one entered the room +below and began to ascend the narrow stairs, and Betty's fingers +closed convulsively about Hannibal's. This was neither Mrs. +Hicks nor her daughter, nor Slosson with his clumsy shufe. There +was a brief pause when the landing was reached, but it was only +momentary; a hand lifted the bar, the door was thrown open, and +its space framed the figure of a man. It was John Murrell. + +Standing there he regarded Betty in silence, but a deep-seated +fire glowed in his sunken eyes. The sense of possession was +raging through him, his temples throbbed, a fever stirred his +blood. Love, such as it was, he undoubtedly felt for her and +even his giant project with all its monstrous ramifications was +lost sight of for the moment. She was the inspiration for it +all, the goal and reward toward which he struggled. + +"Betty!" the single word fell softly from his lips. He stepped +into the room, closing the door as he did so. + +The girl's eyes were dilating with a mute horror, for by some +swift intuitive process of the mind, which asked nothing of the +logic of events, but dealt only with conclusions, Murrell stood +revealed as Norton's murderer. Perhaps he read her thoughts, but +he had lived in his degenerate ambitions until the common +judgments or the understanding of them no longer existed for him. +That Betty had loved Norton seemed inconsequential even; it was a +memory to be swept away by the force of his greater passion. So +he watched her smilingly, but back of the smile was the menace of +unleashed impulse. + +"Can't you find some word of welcome for me, Betty?" he asked at +length, still softly, still with something of entreaty in his +tone. + +"Then it was you--not Tom--who had me brought here!" She could +have thanked God had it been Tom, whose hate was not to be feared +as she feared this man's love. + +"Tom--no!" and Murrell laughed. "You didn't think I'd give you +up? I am standing with a halter, about my neck, and all for your +sake--who'd risk as much for love of you?" he seemed to expand +with savage pride that this was so, and took a step toward her. + +"Don't come near me!" cried Betty. Her eyes blazed, and she +looked at him with' loathing. + +"You'll learn to be kinder," he exulted. "You wouldn't see me at +Belle Plain; what was left for me but to have you brought here?" +While Murrell was speaking, the signal that had told of his own +presence on the opposite shore of the bayou was heard again. +This served to arrest his attention. A look of uncertainty +passed over his face, then he made an impatient gesture as if he +dismissed some thought that had forced itself upon him, and +turned to Betty. + +"You don't ask what my purpose is where you are concerned; have +you no curiosity on that score?" She endeavored to meet his +glance with a glance as resolute, then her eyes sought the boy's +upturned face. "I am going to send you down river, Betty. Later +I shall join you in New Orleans, and when I leave the country you +shall go with me--" + +"Never!" gasped Betty. + +"As my wife, or however you choose to call it. I'll teach you +what a man's love is like," he boasted, and extended his hand. +Betty shrank from him, and his hand fell at his side. He looked +at her steadily out of his deep-sunk eyes in which blazed the +fires of his passion, and as he looked, her face paled and +flushed by turns. "You may learn to be kind to me, Betty," he +said. "You may find it will be worth your while." Betty made no +answer, she only gathered Hanniba closer to her side. "Why not +accept what I have to offer, Betty?" again he went nearer her, +and again she shrank from him, but the madness of his mood was in +the ascendant. He seized her and drew her to him. She struggled +to free herself, but his fingers tightened about hers. + +"Let me go!" she panted. He laughed his cool laugh of triumph. + +"Let you go--ask me anything but that, Betty! Have you no reward +for patience such as mine? A whole summer has passed since I saw +you first--" + +There was the noisy shuffling of feet on the stairs, and +releasing Betty, Murrell swung about on his heel and faced the +door. It was pushed open an inch at a time by a not too +confident hand and Mr. Slosson thus guardedly presented himself +to the eye of his chief, whom he beckoned from the room. + +"Well?" said Murrell, when they stood together on the landing. + +"Just come across to the keel boat!" and Slosson led the way down +the stairs and from the house. + +"Damn you, Joe; you might have waited!" observed the outlaw. +Slosson gave him a hardened grin. They crossed the clearing and +boarded the keel boat which rested against the bank. As they did +so, the cabin in the stern gave up a shattered presence in the +shape of Tom Ware. Murrell started violently. "I thought you +were hanging out in Memphis, Tom?" he said, and his brow darkened +as, sinister and forbidding, he stepped closer to the planter. +Ware did not answer at once, but looked at Murrell out of heavy +bloodshot eyes, his face pinched and ghastly. At last he said, +speaking with visible effort, + +"I stayed in Memphis until five o'clock this morning." + +"Damn your early hours!" roared Murrell. "What are you doing +here? I suppose you've been showing that dead face of yours +about the neighborhood--why didn't you stay at Belle Plain since +you couldn't keep away?" + +"I haven't been near Belle Plain, I came here instead. How am I +going to meet people and answer questions?" His teeth were +chattering. "Is it known she's missing?" he added. + +"Hicks raised the alarm the first thing this morning, according +to the instructions I'd given him." + +"Yes?" gasped Ware. He was dripping from every pore and the +sickly color came and went on his unshaven cheeks. Murrell +dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. + +"You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen +you on the road this morning?" + +"No one, John," cried Ware, panting between each word. There was +a moment's pause and Ware spoke again. "What are they doing at +Belle Plain?" he demanded in a whisper. Murrell's lips curled. + +"I understand there is talk of suicide," he said. + +"Good!" cried Ware. + +"They are dragging the bayou down below the house. It looks as +though you were going to reap the rewards of the excellent +management you have given her estate. They have been trying to +find you in Memphis, so the sooner you show yourself the better," +he concluded significantly. + +"You are sure you have her safe, John, no chance of discovery? +For God's sake, get her away from here as soon as you can, it's +an awful risk you run!" + +"She'll be sent down river to-night," said Murrell. + +"Captain," began Slosson who up to this had taken no part in the +conversation. "When are you going to cross to t'other side of +the bayou?" + +"Soon," replied Murrell. Slosson laughed. + +"I didn't know but you'd clean forgot the Clan's business. I +want to ask another question--but first I want to say that no one +thinks higher or more frequent of the ladies than just me, I'm +genuinely fond of 'em and I've never lifted my hand ag'in' 'em +except in kindness." Mr. Slosson looked at Ware with an +exceedingly virtuous expression of countenance. He continued. +"Yo' orders are that we're to slip out of this a little afore +midnight, but suppose there's a hitch--here's the lady knowing +what she knows and here's the boy knowing what he knows." + +"There can be no hitch," rasped out Murrell arrogantly. + +"I never knew a speculation that couldn't go wrong; and by rights +we should have got away last night." + +"Well, whose fault is it you didn't?" demanded Murrell. + +"In a manner it were mine, but the ark got on a sandbank as we +were fetching it in and it took us the whole damn night to get +clear." + +"Well?" prompted Murrell, with a sullen frown. + +"Suppose they get shut of that notion of theirs that the lady's +done drowned herself, suppose they take to watching the river? +Or suppose the whole damn bottom drops out of this deal? What +then? Why, I'll tell you what then--the lady, good looking as +she is, knows enough to make west Tennessee mighty onhealthy for +some of us. I say suppose it's a flash in the pan and you have +to crowd the distance in between you and this part of the world, +you can't tell me you'll have any use for her then." Slosson +paused impressively. "And here's Mr. Ware feeling bad, feeling +like hell," he resumed. "Him and me don't want to be left in no +trap with you gone God only knows where." + +"I'll send a man to take charge of the keel boat. I can't risk +any more of your bungling, Joe." + +"That's all right, but you don't answer my question," persisted +Slosson, with admirable tenacity of purpose. + +"What is your question, Joe?" + +"A lot can happen between this and midnight--" + +"If things go wrong with us there'll be a blaze at the head of +the bayou; does that satisfy you?" + +"And what then?" + +Murrell hesitated. + +"What about the girl?" insisted Slosson, dragging him back to the +point at issue between them. "As a man I wouldn't lift my hand +ag'in' no good looking woman except like I said--in kindness, but +she can't be turned loose, she knows too much. What's the word, +Captain--you say it!" he urged. He made a gesture of appeal to +Ware. + +"Look for the light; better still, look for the man I'll send." +And with this Murrell would have turned away, but Slosson +detained him. + +"Who'll he be?" + +"Some fellow who knows the river." + +"And if it's the light?" asked the tavern-keeper in a hoarse +undertone. Again he looked toward Ware, who, dry-lipped and +ashen, was regarding him steadfastly. Glance met glance, for a +brief instant they looked deep into each other's eyes and then +the hand Slosson had rested on Murrell's shoulder dropped at his +side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE JUDGE MEETS THE SITUATION + + +The judge's and Mr. Mahaffy's celebration of the former's +rehabilitated credit had occupied the shank of the evening, the +small hours of the night, and that part of the succeeding day +which the southwest described as soon in the morning; and as the +stone jug, in which were garnered the spoils of the highly +confidential but entirely misleading conversation which the judge +had held with Mr. Pegloe after his return from Belle Plain, lost +in weight, it might have been observed that he and Mr. Mahaffy +seemed to gain in that nice sense of equity which should form the +basis of all human relations. The judge watched Mr. Mahaffy, and +Mr. Mahaffy watched the judge, each trustfully placing the +regulation of his private conduct in the hands of his friend, as +the one most likely to be affected by the rectitude of his acts. + +Probably so extensive a consumption of Mr. Pegloe's corn whisky +had never been accomplished with greater highmindedness. They +honorably split the last glass, the judge scorning to set up any +technical claim to it as his exclusive property; then he stared +at Mahaffy, while Mahaffy, dark-visaged and forbidding, stared +back at him. + +The judge sighed deeply. He took up the jug and inverted it. A +stray drop or so fell languidly into his glass. + +"Try squeezing it, Price," said Mahaffy. + +The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he +sighed again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery +eye as he tilted it toward the light. + +"I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass +bottom," he observed. + +"What for?" asked Mahaffy. + +"You astonish me, Solomon," exclaimed the judge. "Coming as you +do from that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an +eight-day clock that has been known to run as much as four or +five hours at a stretch. I am aware the Yankees are an ingenious +people; I wonder none of 'em ever thought of a jug with a glass +bottom, so that when a body holds it up to the light he can see +at a glance whether it is empty or not. Do you reckon Pegloe has +sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?" + +But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr. +Pegloe's confidence. + +"Credit," began the judge, "is proverbially shy; still it may +sometimes be increased, like the muscles of the body and the +mental faculties, by judicious use. I've always regarded Pegloe +as a cheap mind. I hope I have done him an injustice." He put +on his hat, and tucking the jug under his arm, went from the +house. + +Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed. Mahaffy considered this a good +sign, it didn't take long to say no, he reflected. Another ten +or fifteen elapsed. Mahaffy lost heart. Then there came a hasty +step beyond the door, it was thrown violently open, and the judge +precipitated himself into the room. A glance showed Mahaffy that +he was laboring under intense excitement. + +"Solomon, I bring shocking news. God knows what the next few +hours may reveal!" cried the judge, mopping his brow. "Miss +Malroy has disappeared from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone +with her!" + +"Where have they gone?" asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped. + +"Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!" +answered the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head. He +gazed down on his friend with an air of large tolerance. "I am +going to Belle Plain, but you are too drunk. Sleep it off, +Solomon, and join me when your brain is clear and your legs +steady." + +Mahaffy jerked out an oath, and lifting himself off his chair, +stood erect. He snatched up his hat. + +"Stuff your pistols into your pockets, and come on, Price!" he +said, and stalked toward the door. + +He flitted up the street, and the judge puffed and panted in his +wake. They gained the edge of the village without speech. + +"There is mystery and rascality here!" said the judge. + +"What do you know, Price, and where did you hear this?" Mahaffy +shot the question back over his shoulder. + +"At Pegloe's, the Belle Plain overseer had just fetched the news +into town." + +Again they were silent, all their energies being absorbed by the +physical exertion they were making. The road danced before their +burning eyes, it seemed to be uncoiling itself serpentwise with +hideous undulations. Mr. Mahaffy was conscious that the judge, +of whom he caught a blurred vision now at his right side, now at +his left, was laboring painfully in the heat and dust, the breath +whistling from between his parched lips. + +"You're just ripe for apoplexy, Price!" he snarled, moderating +his pace. + +"Go on," said the judge, with stolid resolution. + +Two miles out of the village they came to a roadside spring, here +they paused for an instant. Mahaffy scooped up handfuls of the +clear water and sucked it down greedily. The judge dropped on +his stomach and buried his face in the tiny pool, gulping up +great thirsty swallows. After a long breathless instant he stood +erect, with drops of moisture clinging to his nose and eyebrows. +Mahaffy was a dozen paces down the road, hurrying forward again +with relentless vigor. The judge shuffled after him. The tracks +they left in the dust crossed and re-crossed the road, but +presently the slanting lines of their advance straightened, the +judge gained and held a fixed place at Mahaffy's right, a step or +so in the rear. His oppulent fancy began to deal with the +situation. + +"If anything happens to the child, the man responsible for it +would better never been born--I'll pursue him with undiminished +energy from this moment forth!" he panted. + +"What could happen to him, Price?" asked Mahaffy. + +"God knows, poor little lad!" + +"Will you shut up!" cried Mahaffy savagely. + +"Solomon!" + +"Why do you go building on that idea? Why should any one harm +him--what earthly purpose--" + +"I tell you, Solomon, we are the pivotal point in a vast circle +of crime. This is a blow at me--this is revenge, sir, neither +more nor less! They have struck at me through the boy, it is as +plain as day." + +"What did the overseer say?" + +"Just that they found Miss Malroy gone from Belle Plain this +morning, and the boy with her." + +"This is like you, Price! How do you know they haven't spent the +night at some neighbor's?" + +"The nearest neighbor is five or six miles distant. Miss Malroy +and Hannibal were seen along about dusk in the grounds at Belle +Plain, do you mean to tell me you consider it likely that they +set out on foot at that hour, and without a word to any one, to +make a visit?" inquired the judge; but Mahaffy did not contend +for this point. + +"What are you going to do first, Price?" + +"Have a look over the grounds, and talk with the slaves." + +"Where's the brother--wasn't he at Belle Plain last night?" + +"It seems he went to Memphis yesterday." + +They plodded forward in silence; now and again they were passed +by some man on horseback whose destination was the same as their +own, and then at last they caught sight of Belle Plain in its +grove of trees. + +All work on the plantation had stopped, and the hundreds of +slaves--men, women and children--were gathered about the house. +Among these moved the members of the dominant race. The judge +would have attached himself to the first group, but he heard a +whispered question, and the answer, + +"Miss Malroy's lawyer." + +Clearly it was not for him to mix with these outsiders, these +curiosity seekers. He crossed the lawn to the house, and mounted +the steps. In the doorway was big Steve, while groups of men +stood about in the hall, the hum of busy purposeless talk +pervading the place. The judge frowned. This was all wrong. + +"Has Mr. Ware returned from Memphis?" he asked of Steve. + +"No, Sah;; not yet." + +"Then show me into the library," said the judge with bland +authority, surrendering his hat to the butler. "Come along, +Mahaffy!" he added. They entered the library, and the judge +motioned Steve to close the door. "Now, boy, you'll kindly ask +those people to withdraw--you may say it is Judge Price's orders. +Allow no one to enter the house unless they have business with +me, or as I send for them--you understand? After you have +cleared the house, you may bring me a decanter of corn whisky +--stop a bit--you may ask the sheriff to step here." + +"Yes, Sah." And Steve withdrew. + +The judge drew an easy-chair up to the flat-topped desk that +stood in the center of the room, and seated himself. + +"Are you going to make this the excuse for another drunk, Price? +If so, I feel the greatest contempt for you," said Mahaffy +sternly. + +The judge winced at this. + +"You have made a regrettable choice of words, Solomon," he urged +gently. + +"Where's your feeling for the boy?" + +"Here!" said the judge, with an eloquent gesture, resting his +hand on his heart. + +"If you let whisky alone, I'll believe you, otherwise what I have +said must stand." + +The door opened, and the sheriff slouched into the room. He was +chewing a long wheat straw, and his whole appearance was one of +troubled weakness. + +"Morning," he said briefly. + +"Sit down, Sheriff," and the judge indicated a meek seat for the +official in a distant corner. "Have you learned anything?" he +asked. + +The sheriff shook his head. + +"What you turning all these neighbors out of doors for?" he +questioned. + +"We don't want people tracking in and out the house, Sheriff. +Important evidence may be destroyed. I propose examining the +slaves first--does that meet with your approval?" + +"Oh, I've talked with them, they don't know nothing," said the +sheriff. "No one don't know nothing." + +"Please God, we may yet put our fingers on some villain who +does," said the judge. + +Outside it was noised about that judge Price had taken matters in +hand--he was the old fellow who had been warned to keep his mouth +shut, and who had never stopped talking since. A crowd collected +beyond the library windows and feasted its eyes on the back of +this hero's bald head. + +One by one the house servants were ushered into the judge's +presence. First he interrogated little Steve, who had gone to +Miss Betty's door that morning to rouse her, as was his custom. +Next he examined Betty's maid; then the cook, and various house +servants, who had nothing especial to tell, but told it at +considerable. length; and lastly big Steve. + +"Stop a bit," the judge suddenly interrupted the butler in the +midst of his narrative. "Does the overseer always come up to the +house the first thing in the morning?" + +"Why, not exactly, Sah, but he come up this mo'ning, Sah. He was +talking to me at the back of the house, when the women run out +with the word that Missy was done gone away." + +"He joined in the search?" + +"Yes, Sah.'' + +"When was Miss Malroy seen last?" asked the judge. + +"She and the young gemman you fotched heah were seen in the +gyarden along about sundown. I seen them myself." + +"They had had supper?" + +"Yes, Sah." + +"Who sleeps here?" + +"Just little Steve and three of the women, they sleeps at the +back of the house, Sah.'' + +"No sounds were heard during the night?" + +"No, Sah." + +"I'll see the overseer--what's his name?--Hicks? Suppose you go +for him!" said the judge, addressing the sheriff. + +The sheriff was gone from the room only a few moments, and +returned with the information that Hicks was down at the bayou, +which was to be dragged. + +"Why?" inquired the judge. + +"Hicks says Miss Malroy's been acting mighty queer ever since +Charley Norton was shot--distracted like! He says he noticed it, +and that Tom Ware noticed it." + +"How does he explain the boy's disappearance?" + +"He reckons she throwed herself in, and the boy tried to drag her +out, like he naturally would, and got drawed in." + +"Humph! I'll trouble Mr. Hicks to step here," said the judge +quietly. + +"There's Mr. Carrington and a couple of strangers outside who've +been asking about Miss Malroy and the boy, seems like the +strangers knowed her and him back yonder in No'th Carolina," said +the sheriff as he turned away. + +"I'll see them." The sheriff went from the room and the judge +dismissed the servants. + +"Well, what do you think, Price?" asked Mahaffy anxiously when +they were alone. + +"Rubbish! Take my word for it, Solomon, this blow is leveled at +me. I have been too forward in my attempts to suppress the +carnival of crime that is raging through west Tennessee. You'll +observe that Miss Malroy disappeared at a moment when the public +is disposed to think she has retained me as her legal adviser, +probably she will be set at liberty when she agrees to drop the +matter of Norton's murder. As for the boy, they'll use him to +compel my silence and inaction." The judge took a long breath. +"Yet there remains one point where the boy is concerned that +completely baffles me. If we knew just a little more of his +antecedents it might cause me to make a startling and radical +move." + +Mahaffy was clearly not impressed by the vague generalities in +which the judge was dealing. + +"There you go, Price, as usual, trying to convince yourself that +you are the center of everything!" he said, in a tone of much +exasperation. "Let's get down to business! What does this man +Hicks mean by hinting at suicide? You saw Miss Malroy +yesterday?" + +"You have put your finger on a point of some significance," said +the judge. "She bore evidence of the shock and loss she had +sustained; aside from that she was quite as she has always been." + +"Well, what do you want to see Hicks for? What do you expect to +learn from him?" + +"I don't like his insistence on the idea that Miss Malroy is +mentally unbalanced. It's a question of some delicacy--the law, +sir, fully recognizes that. It seems to me he is overanxious to +account for her disappearance in a manner that can compromise no +one." + +Here they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and big +Steve admitted Carrington and the two men of whom the sheriff had +spoken. + +"A shocking condition of affairs, Mr. Carrington!" said the judge +by way of greeting. + +"Yes," said Carrington shortly. + +"You left these parts some time ago, I believe?" continued the +judge. + +"The day before Norton was shot. I had started home for +Kentucky. I heard of his death when I reached Randolph on the +second bluff," explained Carrington, from whose cheeks the +weather-beaten bloom had faded. He rested his hand on the edge +of the desk and turned to the men who had followed him into the +room. "This is the gentleman you wish to see," he said. and +stepped to one of the windows; it overlooked the terraces where +he had said good-by to Betty scarcely a week before. + +The two men had paused by the door. They now advanced. One was +gaunt and haggard, his face disfigured by a great red scar, the +other was a shockheaded individual who moved with a shambling +gait. Both carried rifles and both were dressed in coarse +homespun. + +"Morning, sir," said the man with the scar. "Yancy's my name, +and this gentleman 'lows he'd rather be known now as Mr. +Cavendish." + +The judge started to his feet. + +"Bob Yancy?" he cried. + +"Yes, sir, that's me." The judge passed nimbly around the desk +and shook the Scratch Hiller warmly by the hand. "Where's my +nevvy, sir--what's all this about him and Miss Betty?" Yancy's +soft drawl was suddenly eager. + +"Please God we'll recover him soon!" said the judge. + +By the window Carrington moved impatiently. No harm could come +to the boy, but Betty--a shudder went through him. + +"They've stolen him." Yancy spoke with conviction. "I reckon +they've started back to No'th Carolina with him--only that don't +explain what's come of Miss Betty, does it?" and he dropped +rather helplessly into a chair. + +"Bob are just getting off a sick bed. He's been powerful porely +in consequence of having his head laid open and then being +throwed into the Elk River, where I fished him out," explained +Cavendish, who still continued to regard the judge with unmixed +astonishment, first cocking his shaggy head on one side and then +on the other, his bleached eyes narrowed to a slit. Now and then +he favored the austere Mahaffy with a fleeting glance. He seemed +intuitively to understand the comradeship of their degradation. + +"Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft. We tied up to the +sho' this morning. It was there we met Mr. Carrington--I'd +knowed him slightly back yonder in No'th Carolina," continued +Yancy. "He said I'd find Hannibal with you. I was counting a +heap on seeing my nevvy." + +Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his +heel. + +"What's been done?" he asked, with fierce repression. "What's +going to be done? Don't you know that every second is precious?" + +"I am about to conclude my investigations, sir," said the judge +with dignity. + +Carrington stepped to the door. After all, what was there to +expect of these men? Whatever their interest, it was plainly +centered in the boy. He passed out into the hall. + +As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch +Hiller. + +"Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest +regard, he has been our constant companion ever since you were +lost to him. In this crisis you may rely upon us; we are +committed to his recovery, no matter what it involves." The +judge's tone was one of unalterable resolution. + +"I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him," said +Yancy huskily. + +"We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy--indeed I had formed the +resolution legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him. +I should have given him my name, and made him my heir. His +education has already begun, under my supervision," and the +judge, remembering the high use to which he had dedicated one of +Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with philanthropic fervor. + +"Think of that!" murmured Yancy softly. He was deeply moved. So +was Mr. Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready +sympathy. He thrust out a hardened hand to the judge. + +"Shake!" he said. "You're a heap better than you look." A thin +ripple of laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills +and Fever's proffered hand. He understood that here was a simple +genuine soul. + +"Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks +the boy has been taken back to North Carolina?" said Mahaffy. + +"Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?" asked the judge +resuming his seat. + +"Strictly speaking, he ain't none. That he come to live with me +is all owing to Mr. Crenshaw, who's a good man when left to +himself, but he's got a wife, so a body may say he never is left +to himself," began Yancy; and then briefly he told the story of +the woman and the child much as he had told it to Bladen at the +Barony the day of General Quintard's funeral. + +The judge, his back to the light and his face in shadow, rested +his left elbow on the desk and with his cbin sunk in his palm, +followed the Scratch Hiller's narrative with the closest +attention. + +"And General Quintard never saw him--never manifested any +interest in him?" the words came slowly from the judge's lips, he +seemed to gulp down something that rose in his throat. "Poor +little lad!" he muttered, and again, "Poor little lad!" + +"Never once, sir. He told the slaves to keep him out of his +sight. We-all wondered, fo' you know how niggers will talk. We +thought maybe he was some kin to the Quintards, but we couldn't +figure out how. The old general never had but one child and she +had been dead fo' years. The child couldn't have been hers no +how." Yancy paused. + +The judge drummed idly on the desk. + +"What implacable hate--what iron pride!" he murmured, and swept +his hand across his eyes. Absorbed and aloof, he was busy with +his thoughts that spanned the waste of yearsyears that seemed to +glide before him in review, each bitter with its hideous memories +of shame and defeat. Then from the smoke of these lost battles +emerged the lonely figure of the child as he had seen him that +June night. His ponderous arm stiffened where it rested on the +desk, he straightened up in his chair and his face assumed its +customary expression of battered dignity, while a smile at once +wistful and tender hovered about his lips. + +"One other question," he said. "Until this man Murrell appeared +you had no trouble with Bladen? He was content that you should +keep the child--your right to Hannibal was never challenged?" + +"Never, sir. All my troubles began about that time." + +"Murrell belongs in these parts," said the judge. + +"I'd admire fo' to meet him," said Yancy quietly. + +The judge grinned. + +"I place my professional services at your disposal," he said. +"Yours is a clear case of felonous assault." + +"No, it ain't, sir--I look at it this-a-ways; it's a clear case +of my giving him the damnedest sort of a body beating!" + +"Sir," said the judge, "I'll hold your hat while you are about +it!" + +Hicks had taken his time in responding to the judge's summons, +but now his step sounded in the hall and throwing open the door +he entered the room. Whether consciously or not he had acquired +something of that surly, forbidding manner which was +characteristic of his employer. A curt nod of the head was his +only greeting. + +"Will you sit down?" asked the judge. Hicks signified by another +movement of the head that he would not. "This is a very dreadful +business!" began the judge softly. + +"Ain't it?" agreed Hicks. "What you got to say to me?" he added +petulantly. + +"Have you started to drag the bayou?" asked the judge. Hicks +nodded. "That was your idea?" suggested the judge. + +"No, it wa'n't," objected Hicks quickly. "But I said she had +been actin' like she was plumb distracted ever since Charley +Norton got shot--" + +"How?" inquired the judge, arching his eyebrows. Hicks was +plainly disturbed by the question. + +"Sort of out of her head. Mr. Ware seen it, too--" + +"He spoke of it?" + +"Yes, sir; him and me discussed it together." + +The judge regarded Hicks long and intently and in, silence. His +magnificent mind was at work. If Betty had been distraught he +had not observed any sign of it the previous day. If Ware were +better informed as to her true mental state why had he chosen +this time to go to Memphis? + +"I suppose Mr. Ware asked you to keep an eye on Miss Malroy while +he was away from home?" said the judge. Hicks, suspicious of the +drift of his questioning, made no answer. "I suppose you told +the house servants to keep her under observation?" continued the +judge. + +"I don't talk to no niggers," replied Hicks, "except to give 'em +my orders." + +"Well, did you give them that order?" + +"No, I didn't." + +The sudden and hurried entrance of big Steve brought the judge's +examination of Mr. Hicks to a standstill. + +"Mas'r, you know dat 'ar coachman George--the big black fellow +dat took you into town las' evenin'? I jes' been down at Shanty +Hill whar Milly, his wife, is carryin' on something scandalous +'cause George ain't never come home!" Steve was laboring under +intense excitement, but he ignored the presence of the overseer +and addressed himself to Slocum Price. + +"Well, what of that?" cried Hicks quickly. + +"Thar warn't no George, mind you, Mas'r, but dar was his team in +de stable this mo'ning and lookin' mighty nigh done up with hard +driving." + +"Yes." interrupted Hicks uneasily; "put a pair of lines in a +nigger's hands and he'll run any team off its legs!" + +"An' the kerriage all scratched up from bein' thrashed through +the bushes," added Steve. + +"There's a nigger for you!" said Hicks. "She took the rascal out +of the field, dressed him like he was a gentleman and pampered +him up, and now first chance he gets he runs off!" + +"Ah!" said the judge softly. "Then you knew this?" + +"Of course I knew--wa'n't it my business to know? I reckon he +was off skylarking, and when he'd seen the mess he'd made, the +trifling fool took to the woods. Well, he catches it when I lay +hands on him!" + +"Do you know when and under what circumstances the team was +stabled, Mr. Hicks?" inquired the judge. + +"No, I don't, but I reckon it must have been along after dark," +said Hicks unwillingly. "I seen to the feeding just after +sundown like I always do, then I went to supper," Hicks +vouchsafed to explain. + +"And no one saw or heard the team drive in?" + +"Not as I know of," said Hicks. + +"Mas'r Ca'ington's done gone off to get a pack of dawgs--he 'lows +hit's might' important to find what's come of George," said +Steve. + +Hicks started violently at this piece of news. + +"I reckon he'll have to travel a right smart distance to find a +pack of dogs," he muttered. "I don't know of none this side of +Colonel Bates' down below Girard." + +The judge was lost in thought. He permitted an interval of +silence to elapse in which Hicks' glance slid round in a furtive +circle. + +"When did Mr. Ware set out for Memphis?" asked the judge at +length. + +"Early yesterday. He goes there pretty often on business." + +"You talked with Mr. Ware before he left?" Hicks nodded. "Did he +speak of Miss Malroy?" Hicks shook his head. "Did you see her +during the afternoon?" + +"No--maybe you think these niggers ain't enough to keep a man +stirring?" said Hicks uneasily and with a scowl. The judge +noticed both the uneasiness and the scowl. + +"I should imagine they would absorb every moment of your time, +Mr. Hicks," he agreed affably. + +"A man's got to be a hog for work to hold a job like mine," said +Hicks sourly. + +"But it came to your notice that Miss Malroy has been in a +disturbed mental state ever since Mr. Norton's murder? I am +interested in this point, Mr. Hicks, because your experience is +so entirely at variance with my own. It was my privilege to see +and speak with her yesterday afternoon; I was profoundly +impressed by her naturalness and composure." The judge smiled, +then he leaned forward across the desk. "What were you doing up +here early this morning--hasn't a hog for work like you got any +business of his own at that hour?" The judge's tone was suddenly +offensive. + +"Look here, what right have you got to try and pump me?" cried +Hicks. + +For no discernible reason Mr. Cavendish spat on his palms. + +"Mr. Hicks," said the judge, urbane and gracious, "I believe in +frankness." + +"Sure," agreed Hicks, mollified by the judge's altered tone. + +"Therefore I do not hesitate to say that I consider you a damned +scoundrel!" concluded the judge. + +Mr. Cavendish, accepting the judge's ultimatum as something which +must debar Hicks from all further consideration, and being, as he +was, exceedingly active and energetic by nature, if one passed +over the various forms of gainful industry, uttered a loud whoop +and threw himself on the overseer. There was a brief struggle +and Hicks went down with the Earl of Lambeth astride of him; then +from his boot leg that knightly soul flashed a horn-handled +tickler of formidable dimensions. + +The judge, Yancy, and Mahaffy, sprang from their chairs. Mr. +Mahaffy was plainly shocked at the spectacle of Mr. Cavendish's +lawless violence. Yancy was disturbed too, but not by the moral +aspects of the case; he was doubtful as to just how his friend's +act would appeal to the judge. He need not have been distressed +on that score, since the judge's one idea was to profit by it. +With his hands on his knees he was now bending above the two men. + +"What do you want to know, judge?" cried Cavendish, panting from +his exertions. "I'll learn this parrot to talk up!" + +"Hicks," said the judge, "it is in your power to tell us a few +things we are here to find out." Hicks looked up into the +judge's face and closed his lips grimly. "Mr. Cavendish, kindly +let him have the point of that large knife where he'll feel it +most!" ordered the judge. + +"Talk quick!" said Cavendish with a ferocious scowl. "Talk--or +what's to hinder me slicing open your woozen?" and he pressed the +blade of his knife against the overseer's throat. + +"I don't know anything about Miss Betty," said Hicks in a sullen +whisper. + +"Maybe you don't, but what do you know about the boy?" Hicks was +silent, but he was grateful for the judge's question. From Tom +Ware he had learned of Fentress' interest in the boy. Why should +he shelter the colonel at risk to himself? "If you please, Mr. +Cavendish!" said the judge quietly nodding toward the knife. + +"You didn't ask me about him," said Hicks quickly. + +"I do now," said the judge. + +"He was here yesterday." + +"Mr. Cavendish-- " and again the judge glanced toward the knife. + +"Wait!" cried Hicks. "You go to Colonel Fentress." + +"Let him up, Mr. Cavendish; that's all we want to mow," said the +judge. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +COLONEL FENTRESS + + +The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in +Mr. Saul's office that day he went to the court-house on business +for Charley Norton. Working or idling--principally the latter +--drunk or sober--principally the former--the ghost, otherwise +Colonel Fentress, had preserved a place in his thoughts, and now +as he moved stolidly up the drive toward Fentress' big white +house on the hill with Mahaffy, Cavendish, and Yancy trailing in +his wake, memories of what had once been living and vital crowded +in upon him. Some sense of the wreck that littered the long +years, and the shame of the open shame that had swept away pride +and self-respect, came back to him out of the past. + +He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open +door. He glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the +distant timber lands that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log +barns in the hollow to his right; at the huddle of whitewashed +cabins beyond; then with his big fist he reached in and pounded +on the door. The blows echoed loudly through the silent house, +and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare figure was seen +advancing from the far end of the hall. + +"Who is it?" he asked. + +"Judge Price--Colonel Fentress'' said the judge. + +"Judge Price," uncertainly, and still advancing. + +"I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me," said the +judge. + +"I think I have," said Fentress, pausing now. + +"He thinks he has!" muttered the judge under his breath. + +"Will you come in?" it was more a question than an invitation. + +"If you are at liberty." The colonel bowed. "Allow me," the +judge continued. "Colonel Fentress--Mr. Mahaffy, Mr. Yancy and +Mr. Cavendish." Again the colonel bowed. + +"Will you step into the library?" + +"Very good," and the judge followed the colonel briskly down the +hall. + +When they entered the library Fentress turned and took stock of +his guests. Mahaffy he had seen before; Yancy and Cavendish were +of course strangers to him, but their appearance explained them; +last of all his glance shifted to the judge. He had heard +something of those activities by means of which Slocum Price had +striven to distinguish himself, and he had a certain curiosity +respecting the man. It was immediately satisfied. The judge had +reached a degree of shabbiness seldom equaled, and but for his +mellow, effulgent personality might well have passed for a common +vagabond; and if his dress advertised the state of his finances, +his face explained his habits. No misconception was possible +about either. + +"May I offer you a glass of liquor?" asked Fentress, breaking the +silence. He stepped to the walnut centertable where there was a +decanter and glasses. By a gesture the judge declined the +invitation. Whereat the colonel looked surprised, but not so +surprised as Mahaffy. There was another silence. + +"I don't think we ever met before?" observed Fentress. There was +something in the fixed stare his visitor was bending upon him +that he found disquieting, just why, he could not have told. + +But that fixed stare of the judge's continued. No, the man had +not changed--he had grown older certainly, but age had not come +ungracefully; he became the glossy broadcloth and spotless linen +he wore. Here was a man who could command the good things of +life, using them with a rational temperance. The room itself was +in harmony with his character; it was plain but rich in its +appointments, at once his library and his office, while the +well-filled cases ranged about the walls showed his tastes to be +in the main scholarly and intellectual. + +"How long have you lived here?" asked the judge abruptly. +Fentress seemed to hesitate; but the judge's glance, compelling +and insistent, demanded an answer. + +"Ten years." + +"You have known many men of all classes as a lawyer and a +planter?" said the judge. Fentress inclined his head. The judge +took a step nearer him. "People have a great trick of coming and +going in these western states--all sorts of damned riffraff drift +in and out of these new lands." A deadly earnestness lifted the +judge's words above mere rudeness. Fentress, cold and distant, +made no reply. "For the past twenty years I have been looking +for a man by the name of Gatewood--David Gatewood." Disciplined +as he was, the colonel started violently. "Ever heard of him, +Fentress?" demanded the judge with a savage scowl. + +"What's all this to me?" The words came with a gasp from +Fentress' twitching lips. The judge looked at him moody and +frowning. + +"I have reason to think this man Gatewood came to west +Tennessee," he said. + +"If so, I have never heard of him." + +"Perhaps not under that name--at any rate you are going to hear +of him now. This man Gatewood, who between ourselves was a +damned scoundrel"--the colonel winced--"this man Gatewood had a +friend who threw money and business in his way--a planter he was, +same as Gatewood. A sort of partnership existed between the +pair. It proved an expensive enterprise for Gatewood's friend, +since he came to trust the damned scoundrel more and more as time +passed--even large sums of his money were in Gatewood's hands--" +the judge paused. Fentress' countenance was like stone, as +expressionless and as rigid. + +By the door stood Mahaffy with Yancy and Cavendish; they +understood that what was obscure and meaningless to them held a +tragic significance to these two men. The judge's heavy face, +ordinarily battered and debauched, but infinitely good-natured, +bore now the markings of deep passion, and the voice that rumbled +forth from his capacious chest came to their ears like distant +thunder. + +"This friend of Gatewood's had a wife--" The judge's voice +broke, emotion shook him like a leaf, he was tearing open his +wounds. He reached over and poured himself a drink, sucking it +down with greedy lips. "There was a wife--" he whirled about on +his heel and faced Fentress again. "There was a wife, +Fentress--" he fixed Fentress with his blazing eyes. + +"A wife and child. Well, one day Gatewood and the wife were +missing. Under the circumstances Gatewood's friend was well rid +of the pair--he should have been grateful, but he wasn't, for his +wife took his child, a daughter; and Gatewood a trifle of thirty +thousand dollars his friend had intrusted to him!" + +There was another silence. + +"At a later day I met this man who had been betrayed by his wife +and robbed by his friend. He had fallen out of the race--drink +had done for him--there was just one thing he seemed to care +about and that was the fate of his child, but maybe he was only +curious there. He wondered if she had lived, and married--" +Once more the judge paused. + +"What's all this to me?" asked Fentress. + +"Are you sure it's nothing to you?" demanded the judge hoarsely. +"Understand this, Fentress. Gatewood's treachery brought ruin to +at least two lives. It caused the woman's father to hide his +face from the world, it wasn't enough for him that his friends +believed his daughter dead; he knew differently and the shame of +that knowledge ate into his soul. It cost the husband his place +in the world, too--in the end it made of him a vagabond and a +penniless wanderer." + +"This is nothing to me," said Fentress. + +"Wait!" cried the judge. "About six years ago the woman was seen +at her father's home in North Carolina. I reckon Gatewood had +cast her off. She didn't go back empty-handed. She had run away +from her husband with a child--a girl; after a lapse of twenty +years she returned to her father with a boy of two or three. +There are two questions that must be answered when I find +Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became of the child; +are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and marry and +have a son? When I get my answer it will be time enough to think +of Gatewood's punishment!" The judge leaned forward across the +table, bringing his face close to Fentress' face. "Look at me +--do you know me now?" + +But Fentress' expression never altered. The judge fell back a +step. + +"Fentress, I want the boy," he said quietly. + +"What boy?" + +"My grandson." + +"You are mad! What do I know of him--or you?" Fentress was +gaining courage from the sound of his own voice. + +"You know who he is and where he is. Your business relations +with General Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands +in this state. You intend to use the boy to gather them in." + +"You're mad!" repeated Fentress. + +"Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll +smash you!" roared the judge. "Your name isn't Fentress, it's +Gatewood; you've stolen the name of Fentress, just as you have +stolen other things. What's come of Turberville's wife and +child? What's come of Turberville's money? Damn your soul! I +want my grandson! I'll pull you down and leave you stripped and +bare! I'll tell the world the false friend you've been--the +thief you are! I'll strip you and turn you out of these doors as +naked as when you entered the world!" The judge seemed to tower +above Fentress, the man had shot up out of his deep debasement. +"Choose! Choose!" he thundered, his shaggy brows bent in a +menacing frown. + +"I know nothing about the boy," said Fentress slowly. + +"By God, you lie!" stormed the judge. + +"I know nothing about the boy," and Fentress took a step toward +the door. + +"Stay where you are!" commanded the judge. "If you attempt to +leave this room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its +threshold!" + +But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention +that was evident, and Fentress' thin face cast itself in haggard +lines. He was feeling the judge's terrible capacity, his +unexpected ability to deal with a supreme situation. Even +Mahaffy gazed at his friend in wonder. He had only seen him +spend himself on trifles, with no further object than the next +meal or the next drink; he had believed that as he knew him so he +had always been, lax and loose of tongue and deed, a noisy tavern +hero, but now he saw that he was filling what must have been the +measure of his manhood. + +"I tell you I had no hand in carrying off the boy," said Fentress +with a sardonic smile. + +"I look to you to return him. Stir yourself, Gatewood, or by +God, I'll hold so fierce a reckoning with you--" + +The sentence remained unfinished, for Fentress felt his +overwrought nerves snap, and giving way to a sudden blind fury +struck at the judge. + +"We are too old for rough and tumble," said the judge, who had +displayed astonishing agility in avoiding the blow. "Furthermore +we were once gentlemen. At present I am what I am, while you are +a hound and a blackguard! We'll settle this as becomes our +breeding." He poured himself a second glass of liquor from +Fentress' decanter. "I wonder if it is possible to insult you," +and he tossed glass and contents in Fentress' face. The +colonel's thin features were convulsed. The judge watched him +with a scornful curling of the lips. "I am treating you better +than you deserve," he taunted. + +"To-morrow morning at sun-up at Boggs' racetrack!" cried +Fentress. The judge bowed with splendid courtesy. + +"Nothing could please me half so well," he declared. He turned +to the others. "Gentlemen, this is a private matter. When I +have met Colonel Fentress I shall make a public announcement of +why this appeared necessary to me; until then I trust this matter +will not be given publicity. May I ask your silence?" He bowed +again, and abruptly passed from the room. + +His three friends followed in his steps, leaving Fentress +standing by the table, the ghost of a smile on his thin lips. + +As if the very place were evil, the judge hurried down the drive +toward the road. At the gate he paused and turned on his +companions, but his features wore a look of dignity that forbade +comment or question. He held out his hand to Yancy. + +"Sir," he said, "if I could command the riches of the Indies, it +would tax my resources to meet the fractional part of my +obligations to you." + +"Think of that!" said Yancy, as much overwhelmed by the judge's +manner as by his words. + +"His Uncle Bob shall keep his place in my grandson's life! We'll +watch him grow into manhood together." The judge was visibly +affected. A smile of deep content parted Mr. Yancy's lips as his +muscular fingers closed about the judge's hand with crushing +force. + +"Whoop!" cried Cavendish, delighted at this recognition of +Yancy's love for the boy, and he gleefully smote the austere +Mahaffy on the shoulder. But Mahaffy was dumb in the presence of +the decencies, he quite lacked an interpreter. The judge looked +back at the house. + +"Mine!" he muttered. "The clothes he stands inthe food he +eats--miine! Mine!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE BUBBLE BURSTS + + +At about the same hour that the judge was hurling threats and +insults at Colonel Fentress, three men were waiting ten miles +away at the head of the bayou which served to isolate Hicks' +cabin. Now no one of these three had ever heard of Judge Slocum +Price; the breath of his fame had never blown, however gently, in +their direction, yet they were preparing to thrust opportunity +upon him. To this end they were lounging about the opening in +the woods where the horses belonging to Ware and Murrell were +tied. + +At length the dip of oars became audible in the silence and one +of the trio stole down the path, a matter of fifty yards, to a +point that overlooked the bayou. He was gone but a moment. + +"It's Murrell all right!" he said in an eager whisper. "Him and +another fellow--the Hicks girl is rowing them." He glanced from +one to the other of his companions, who seemed to take firmer +hold of themselves under his eye. "It'll be all right," he +protested lightly. "He's as good as ours. Wait till I give you +the word." And he led the way into an adjacent thicket. + +Meantime Ware and Murrell had landed and were coming along the +path, the outlaw a step or two in advance of his friend. They +reached the horses and were untying them when the thicket +suddenly disgorged the three men; each held a cocked pistol; two +of these pistols covered Murrell and the third was leveled at +Ware. + +"Hues!" cried Murrell in astonishment, for the man confronting +him was the Clan's messenger who should have been speeding across +the state. + +"Toss up your hands, Murrell," said Hues quietly. + +One of the other men spoke. + +"You are under arrest!" + +"Arrest!" + +"You are wanted for nigger-stealing," said the man. Still +Murrell did not seem to comprehend. He looked at Hues in dull +wonder. + +"What are you doing here?" he asked. + +"Waiting to arrest you--ain't that plain?" said Hues, with a grim +smile. + +The outlaw's hands dropped at his side, limp and helpless. With +some idea that he might attempt to draw a weapon one of the men +took hold of him, but Murrell was nerveless to his touch; his +face had gone a ghastly white and was streaked with the markings +of terror. + +"Well, by thunder!" cried the man in utter amazement. + +Murrell looked into Hues' face. + +"You--you--" and the words thickened on his tongue becoming an +inarticulate murmur. + +"It's all up, John," said Hues. + +"No!" said Murrell, recovering himself. "You may as well turn me +loose--you can't arrest me!" + +"I've done it," answered Hues, with a laugh. "I've been on your +track for six months." + +"How about this fellow?" asked the man, whose pistol still +covered Ware. Hues glanced toward the planter and shook his +head. + +"Where are you going to take me?" asked Murrell quickly. Again +Hues laughed. + +"You'll find that out in plenty of time, and then your friends +can pass the word around if they like; now you'll come with me!" + +Ware neither moved nor spoke as Hues and his prisoner passed back +along the path, Hues with his hand on Murrell's shoulder, and one +of his companions close at his heels, while the third man led off +the outlaw's horse. + +Presently the distant clatter of hoofs was borne to Ware's +ears--only that; the miracle of courage and daring he had half +expected had not happened. Murrell, for all his wild boasting, +was like other men, like himself. His bloodshot eyes slid around +in their sockets. There across the sunlit stretch of water was +Betty--the thought of her brought him to quick choking terrors. +The whole fabric of crime by which he had been benefited in the +past or had expected to profit in the future seemed toppling in +upon him, but his mind clutched one important fact. Hues, if he +knew of Betty's disappearance, did not connect Murrell with it. +Ware sucked in comfort between his twitching lips. Stealing +niggers! No one would believe that he, a planter, had a hand in +that, and for a brief instant he considered signaling Bess to +return. Slosson must be told of Murrell's arrest; but he was +sick with apprehension, some trap might have been prepared for +him, he could not know; and the impulse to act forsook him. + +He smote his hands together in a hopeless, beaten gesture. And +Murrell had gone weak--with his own eyes he had seen it--Murrell +--whom he believed without fear! He felt that he had been +grievously betrayed in his trust and a hot rage poured through +him. At last he climbed into the saddle, and swaying like a +drunken man, galloped off. + +When he reached the river road he paused and scanned its dusty +surface. Hues and his party had turned south when they issued +from the wood path. No doubt Murrell was being taken to Memphis. +Ware laughed harshly. The outlaw would be free before another +dawn broke. + +He had halted near where Jim had turned his team the previous +night after Betty and Hannibal had left the carriage; the marks +of the wheels were as plainly distinguishable as the more recent +trail left by the four men, and as he grasped the significance of +that wide half circle his sense of injury overwhelmed him again. +He hoped to live to see Murrell hanged! + +He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had +been unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a +swift gallop, but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and, +startled by the sound, looked up. A moment later the horseman +drew rein at his side. + +"Ware!" he cried. + +"How are you, Carrington?" said the planter. + +"You are wanted at Belle Plain," began Carrington, and seemed to +hesitate. + +"Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--" stammered Ware, and +gathered up his reins with a shaking hand. + +"You've heard, I take it?" said Carrington slowly. + +"Yes," answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. "My God, Carrington, +I'm heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!" he fell +silent mopping his face. + +"I think I understand your feeling," said Carrington, giving him +a level glance. + +"Then you'll excuse me," and the planter clapped spurs to his +horse. Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that +Carrington had not moved from the spot where they had met. + +At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the +place. They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of +their sympathy. The planter listened with an air of such abject +misery that those who had neither liked nor respected him, were +roused to a sudden generous feeling where he was concerned, they +could not question but that he was deeply affected. After all +the man might have a side to his nature with which they had never +come in contact. + +When he could he shut himself in his room. He had experienced a +day of maddening anxiety, he had not slept at all the previous +night, in mind and body he was worn out; and now he was plunged +into the thick of this sensation. He must keep control of +himself, for every word he said would be remembered. In the +present there was sympathy for him, but sooner or later people +would return to their sordid unemotional judgments. + +He sought to forecast the happenings of the next few hours. +Murrell's friends would break jail for him, that was a foregone +conclusion, but the insurrection he had planned was at an end. +Hues had dealt its death blow. Moreover, though the law might be +impotent to deal with Murrell, he could not hope to escape the +vengeance of the powerful class he had plotted to destroy; he +would have to quit the country. Ware gloated in this idea of +craven flight. Thank God, he had seen the last of him! + +But as always his thoughts came back to Betty. Slosson would +wait at the Hicks' place for the man Murrell had promised him, +and failing this messenger, for the signal fire, but there would +be neither; and Slosson would be left to determine his own course +of action. Ware felt certain that he would wait through the +night, but as sure as the morning broke, if no word had reached +him, he would send one of his men across the bayou, who must +learn of Murrell's arrest, escape, flight--for in Ware's mind +these three events were indissolubly associated. The planter's +teeth knocked together. He was having a terrible acquaintance +with fear, its very depths had swallowed him up; it was a black +pit in which he sank from horror to horror. He had lost all +faith in the Clan which had terrorized half a dozen states, which +had robbed and murdered with apparent impunity, which had +marketed its hundreds of stolen slaves. He had utterly collapsed +at the first blow dealt the organization, but he was still seeing +Murrell, pallid and shaken. + +A step sounded in the hall and an instant later Hicks entered the +room without the formality of knocking. Ware recognized his +presence with a glance of indifference, but did not speak. Hicks +slouched to his employer's side and handed him a note which +proved to be from Fentress. Ware read and tossed it aside. + +"If he wants to see me why don't he come here?" he growled. + +"I reckon that old fellow they call Judge Price has sprung +something sudden on the colonel," said Hicks. + +"He was out here the first thing this morning; you'd have thought +he owned Belle Plain. There was a couple of strangers with him, +and he had me in and fired questions at me for half an hour, then +he hiked off up to The Oaks." + +"Murrell's been arrested," said Ware in a dull level voice. +Hicks gave him a glance of unmixed astonishment. + +"No!" he cried. + +"Yes, by God!" + +"Who'd risk it?" + +"Risk it? Man, he almost fainted dead away--a damned coward. +Hell!" + +"How do you know this?" asked Hicks, appalled. + +"I was with him when he was taken--it was Hues the man he trusted +more than any other!" Ware gave the overseer a ghastly grin and +was silent, but in that silence he heard the drumming of his own +heart. He went on. "I tell you to save himself John Murrell +will implicate the rest of us; we've got to get him free, and +then, by hell--we ought to knock him in the head; he isn't fit to +live!" + +"The jail ain't built that'll hold him!!" muttered Hicks. + +"Of course, he can't be held," agreed Ware. "And 'he'll never be +brought to trial; no lawyer will dare appear against him, no jury +will dare find him guilty; but there's Hues, what about him?" He +paused. The two men looked at each other for a long moment. + +"Where did they carry the captain?" inquired Hicks. + +"I don't know." + +"It looks like the Clan was in a hell-fired hole--but shucks! +What will be easier than to fix Hues?--and while they're fixing +folks they'd better not overlook that old fellow Price. He's got +some notion about Fentress and the boy." Mr. Hicks did not +consider it necessary to explain that he was himself largely +responsible for this. + +"How do you know that?" demanded Ware. + +"He as good as said so." Hicks looked uneasily at the planter. +He knew himself to be compromised. The stranger named Cavendish +had forced an admission from him that Murrell would not condone +if it came to his knowledge. He had also acquired a very proper +and wholesome fear of Judge Slocum Price. He stepped close to +Ware's side. "What'll come of the girl, Tom? Can you figure +that out?" he questioned, sinking his voice almost to a whisper. +But Ware was incapable of speech, again his terrors completely +overwhelmed him. "I reckon you'll have to find another overseer. +I'm going to strike out for Texas," said Hicks. + +Ware's eyes met his for an instant. He had thought of flight, +too, was still thinking of it, but greed was as much a part of +his nature as fear; Belle Plain was a prize not to be lightly +cast aside, and it was almost his. He lurched across the room to +the window. If he were going to act, the sooner he did so the +better, and gain a respite from his fears. The road down the +coast slid away before his heavy eyes, he marked each turn; then +a palsy of fear shook him, his heart beat against his ribs, and +he stood gnawing his lips while he gazed up at the sun. + +"Do you get what I say, Tom? I am going to quit these parts," +said Hicks. Ware turned slowly from the window. + +"All right, Hicks. You mean you want me to settle with you, is +that it?" he asked. + +"Yes, I'm going to leave while I can, maybe I can't later on," +said Hicks stolidly. He added: "I am going to start down the +coast as soon as it turns dark, and before it's day again I'll +have put the good miles between me and these parts." + +"You're going down the coast?" and Ware was again conscious of +the quickened beating of his heart. Hicks nodded. "See you +don't meet up with John Murrell," said Ware. + +"I'll take that chance. It seems a heap better to me than +staying here." + +Ware looked from the window. The shadows were lengthening across +the lawn. + +"Better start now, Hicks," he advised. + +"I'll wait until it turns dark." + +"You'll need a horse." + +"I was going to help myself to one. This ain't no time to stand +on ceremony," said Hicks shortly. + +"Slosson shouldn't be left in the lurch like this--or your +brother's folks--" + +"They'll have to figure it out for themselves same as me," +rejoined Hicks. + +"You can stop there as you go by." + +"No," said Hicks; "I never did believe in this damn foolishness +about the girl, and I won't go near George's--" + +"I don't ask you to go there, you can give them the signal from +the head of the bayou. All I want is for you to stop and light a +fire on the shore. They'll know what that means. I'll give you +a horse and fifty dollars for the job." + +Hicks' eyes sparkled, but he only said + +"Make it twice that and maybe we can deal." + +Racked and tortured, Ware hesitated; but the sun was slipping +into the west, his windows blazed with the hot light. + +"You swear you'll do your part?" he said thickly. He took his +purse from his pocket and counted out the amount due Hicks. He +named the total, and paused irresolutely. + +"Don't you want the fire lighted?" asked Hicks. He was familiar +with his employer's vacillating moods. + +"Yes," answered Ware, his lips quivering; and slowly, with +shaking fingers, he added to the pile of bills in Hicks' hand. + +"Well, take care of yourself," said Hicks, when the count was +complete. He thrust the roll of bills into his pocket and moved +to the door. + +Alone again, the planter collapsed into his chair, breathing +heavily, but his terrors swept over him and left him with a +savage sense of triumph. This passed, he sprang up, intending to +recall Hicks and unmake his bargain. What had he been thinking +of--safety lay only in flight! Before he reached the door his +greed was in the ascendant. He dropped down on the edge of his +bed, his eyes fixed on the window. The sun sank lower. From +where he sat he saw it through the upper half of the sash, +blood-red and livid in a mist of fleecy clouds. + +It was in the tops of the old oaks now, which sent their shadows +into his room. Again maddened by his terrors he started up and +backed toward the door; but again his greed, the one dominating +influence in his life, vanquished him. + +He watched the sun sink. He watched the red splendor fade over +the river; he saw the first stars appear. He told himself that +Hicks would soon be gone--if the fire was not to be lighted he +must act at once! He stole to the window. It was dusk now, yet +he could distinguish the distant wooded boundaries of the great +fields framed by the darkening sky. Then in the silence he heard +the thud of hoofs. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE KEEL BOAT + + +"PRICE " began Mahaffy. They were back in Raleigh in the room +the judge called his office, and this was Mahaffy's first +opportunity to ease his mind on the subject of the duel, as they +had only just parted from Yancy and Cavendish, who had stopped at +one of the stores to make certain purchases for the raft. + +"Not a word, Solomon--it had to come. I am going to kill him. I +shall feel better then." + +"What if he kills you?" demanded Mahaffy harshly. The judge +shrugged his shoulders. + +"That is as it may be." + +"Have you forgotten your grandson?" Mahaffy's voice was still +harsh and rasping. + +"I regard my meeting with Fentress as nothing less than a sacred +duty to him." + +"We know no more than we did this morning," said Mahaffy. "You +are mixing up all sorts of side issues with what should be your +real purpose." + +"Not at all, Solomon--not at all! I look upon my grandson's +speedy recovery as an assured fact. Fentress dare not hold him. +He knows he is run to earth at last." + +"Price--" + +"No, Solomon--no, my friend, we will not speak of it again. You +will go back to Belle Plain with Yancy and Cavendish; you must +represent me there. We have as good as found Hannibal, but we +must be active in Miss Malroy's behalf. For us that has an +important bearing on the future, and since I can not, you must be +at Belle Plain when Carrington arrives with his pack of dogs. +Give him the advantage of your sound and mature judgment, +Solomon; don't let any false modesty keep you in the background." + +"Who's going to second you?" snapped Mahaffy. + +The judge was the picture of indifference. + +"It will be quite informal, the code is scarcely applicable; I +merely intend to remove him because he is not fit to live." + +"At sun-up!" muttered Mahaffy. + +"I intend to start one day right even if I never live to begin +another," said the judge, a sudden fierce light flashing from his +eyes. "I feel that this is the turning point in my career, +Solomon!" he went on. "The beginning of great things! But I +shall take no chances with the future, I shall prepare for every +possible contingency. I am going to make you and Yancy my +grandson's guardians. There's a hundred thousand acres of land +hereabout that must come to him. I shall outline in writing the +legal steps to be taken to substantiate his claims. Also he will +inherit largely from me at my death." + +Something very like laughter escaped from Mahaffy's lips. + +"There you go, Solomon, with your inopportune mirth! What in +God's name have I if I haven't hope? Take that from me and what +would I be? Why, the very fate I have been fighting off with +tooth and nail would overwhelm me. I'd sink into unimportance +--my unparalleled misfortunes would degrade me to a level with the +commonest! No, sir, I've never been without hope, and though +I've fallen I've always got up. What Fentress has is based on +money he stole from me. By God, the days of his profit-taking +are at an end! I am going to strip him. And even if I don't +live to enjoy what's mine, my grandson shall! He shall wear +velvet and a lace collar and ride his pony yet, by God, as a +gentleman's grandson should!" + +"It sounds well, Price, but where's the money coming from to push +a lawsuit?" + +The judge waved this aside. + +"The means will be found, Solomon. Our horizon is lifting--I can +see it lift! Don't drag me back from the portal of hope! We'll +drink the stuff that comes across the water; I'll warm the +cockles of your heart with imported brandy. I carry twenty +years' hunger and thirst under my wes-coat and I'll feed and +drink like a gentleman yet!" The judge smacked his lips in an +ecstasy of enjoyment, and dropping down before the table which +served him as a desk, seized a pen. + +"It's good enough to think about, Price," admitted Mahaffy +grudgingly. + +"It's better to do; and if anything happens to me the papers I am +going to leave will tell you how it's to be done. Man, there's a +million of money in sight, and we've got to get it and spend it +and enjoy it! None of your swinish thrift for me, but life on a +big scale--company, and feasting, and refined surroundings!" + +"And you are going to meet Fentress in the morning?" asked +Mahaffy. "I suppose there's no way of avoiding that?" + +"Avoiding it?" almost shouted the judge. "For what have I been +living? I shall meet him, let the consequences be what they may. +To-night when I have reduced certain facts to writing I shall +join you at Belle Plain. The strange and melancholy history of +my life I shall place in your hands for safe keeping. In the +morning I can be driven back to Boggs'." + +"And you will go there without a second?" + +"If necessary; yes." + +"I declare, Price, you are hardly fitted to be at large! Why, +you act as if you were tired of life. There's Yancy--there's +Cavendish!" + +The judge gave him an indulgent but superior smile. + +"Two very worthy men, but I go to Boggs' attended by a gentleman +or I go there alone. I am aware of your prejudices, Solomon; +otherwise I might ask this favor of you." + +Mr. Mahaffy snorted loudly and turned to the door, for Yancy and +Cavendish were now approaching the house, the latter with a meal +sack slung over his shoulder. + +"Here, Solomon, take one of my pistols," urged the judge hastily. +"You may need it at Belle Plain. Goodby, and God bless you!" + +Just where he had parted from Ware, Carrington sat his horse, his +brows knit and his eyes turned in the direction of the path. He +was on his way to a plantation below Girard, the owner of which +had recently imported a pack of bloodhounds; but this unexpected +encounter with Ware had affected him strangely. He still heard +Tom's stammering speech, he was still seeing his ghastly face, +and he had come upon him with startling suddenness. He had +chanced to look back over his shoulder and when he faced about +there had been the planter within a hundred yards of him. + +Presently Carrington's glance ceased to follow the windings of +the path. He stared down at the gray dust and saw the trail left +by Hues and his party. For a moment he hesitated; if the dogs +were to be used with any hope of success he had no time to spare, +and this was the merest suspicion, illogical conjecture, based on +nothing beyond his distrust of Ware. In the end he sprang from +the saddle and leading his horse into the woods, tied it to a +sapling. + +A hurried investigation told him that five men had ridden in and +out of that path. Of the five, all coming from the south, four +had turned south again, but the fifth man--Ware, in other words +--had gone north. He weighed the possible significance of these +facts. + +"I am only wasting time!" he confessed reluctantly, and was on +the point of turning away, when, on the very edge of the road and +just where the dust yielded to the hard clay of the path, his +glance lighted on the print of a small and daintily shod foot. +The throbbing of his heart quickened curiously. + +"Betty!" The word leaped from his lips. + +That small foot had left but the one impress. There were other +signs, however, that claimed his attention; namely, the +bootprints of Slosson and his men; and he made the inevitable +discovery that these tracks were all confined to the one spot. +They began suddenly and as suddenly ceased, yet there was no +mystery about these; he had the marks of the wheels to help him +to a sure conclusion. A carriage had turned just here, several +men had alighted, they had with them a child or a woman. Either +they had reentered the carriage and driven back as they had come, +or they had gone toward the :fiver. He felt the soul within him +turn sick. + +He stole along the path; the terror of the river was ever in his +thoughts, and the specter of his fear seemed to flit before him +and lure him on. Presently he caught his first glimpse of the +bayou and his legs shook under him; but the path wound deeper +still into what appeared to be an untouched solitude, wound on +between the crowding tree forms, a little back from the shore, +with an intervening tangle of vines and bushes. He scanned this +closely as he hurried forward, scarcely conscious that he was +searching for some trampled space at the water's edge; but the +verdant wall preserved its unbroken continuity, and twenty +minutes later he came within sight of the Hicks' clearing and the +keel boat, where it rested against the bank. + +A little farther on he found the spot where Slosson had launched +the skiff the night before. The keel of his boat had cut deep +into the slippery clay; more than this, the impress of the small +shoe was repeated here, and just beside it was the print of a +child's bare foot. + +He no longer doubted that Betty and Hannibal had been taken +across the bayou to the cabin, and he ran back up the path the +distance of a mile and plunged into the woods on his right, his +purpose being to pass around the head of the expanse of sluggish +water to a point from which he could later approach the cabin. +But the cabin proved to be better defended than he had foreseen; +and as he advanced, the difficulties of the task he had set +himself became almost insurmountable; yet sustained as he was by +his imperative need, he tore his way through the labyrinth of +trailing vines, or floundered across acre-wide patches of green +slime and black mud, which at each step threatened to engulf him +in their treacherous depths, until at the end of an hour he +gained the southern side of the clearing and a firmer footing +within the shelter of the woods. + +Here he paused and took stock of his surroundings. The two or +three buildings Mr. Hicks had erected stood midway of the +clearing and were very modest improvements adapted to their +owner's somewhat flippant pursuit of agriculture. While +Carrington was still staring about him, the cabin door swung open +and a woman stepped forth. It was the girl Bess. She went to a +corner of the building and called loudly: + +"Joe! Oh, Joe!" + +Carrington glanced in the direction of the keel boat and an +instant later saw Slosson clamber over its side. The +tavern-keeper crossed to the cabin, where he was met by Bess, who +placed in his hands what seemed to be a wooden bowl. With this +he slouched off to one of the outbuildings, which he entered. +Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by, then he came from the shed and +after securing the door, returned to the cabin. He was again met +by Bess, who relieved him of the bowl; they exchanged a few words +and Slosson walked away and afterward disappeared over the side +of the keel boat. + +This much was clear to the Kentuckian: food had been taken to +some one in the shed--to Betty and the boy!--more likely to +George. + +He waited now for the night to come, and to him the sun seemed +fixed in the heavens. At Belle Plain Tom Ware was watching it +with a shuddering sense of the swiftness of its flight. But at +last the tops of the tall trees obscured it; it sank quickly then +and blazed a ball of fire beyond the Arkansas coast, while its +dying glory spread aslant the heavens, turning the flanks of the +gray clouds to violet and purple and gold. + +With the first approach of darkness Carrington made his way to +the shed. Hidden in the shadow he paused to listen, and fancied +he heard difficult breathing from within. The door creaked +hideously on its wooden hinges when he pushed it open, but as it +swung back the last remnant of the day's light showed him some +dark object lying prone on the dirt floor. He reached down and +his hand rested on a man's booted foot. + +"George--" Carrington spoke softly, but the man on the floor gave +no sign that he heard, and Carrington's questioning touch +stealing higher he found that George--if it were George--was +lying on his side with his arms and legs securely bound. +Thinking he slept, the Kentuckian shook him gently to arouse him. + +"George?" he repeated, still bending above him. This time an +inarticulate murmur answered him. At the same instant the woolly +head of the negro came under his fingers and he discovered the +reason of his silence. He was as securely gagged as he was +bound. + +"Listen, George--it's Carrington--I am going to take off this +gag, but don't speak above a whisper--they may hear us!" And he +cut the cords that held the gag in place. + +"How yo' get here, Mas'r Ca'ington?" asked the negro guardedly, +as the gag fell away. + +"Around the head of the bayou." + +"Lawd!" exclaimed George, in a tone of wonder. + +"Where's Miss Betty?" + +"She's in the cabin yonder--fo' the love of God, cut these here +other ropes with yo' knife, Mas'r Ca'ington--I'm perishin' with +'em!" Carrington did as he asked, and groaning, George sat +erect. "I'm like I was gone to sleep all over," he said. + +"You'll feel better in a moment. Tell me about Miss Malroy?" + +"They done fetched us here last night. I was drivin' Missy into +Raleigh--her and young Mas'r Hazard--when fo' men stop us in the +road." + +"Who were they, do you know?" asked Carrington. + +"Lawd--what's that?" + +Carrington, knife in hand swung about on his heel. A lantern's +light flashed suddenly in his face and Bess Hicks, with a low +startled cry breaking from her lips, paused in the doorway. +Springing forward, Carrington seized her by the wrist. + +"Hush!" he grimly warned. + +"What are you doin' here?" demanded the girl, as she endeavored +to shake off his hand, but Carrington drew her into the shed, and +closing the door, set his back against it. There was a brief +silence during which Bess regarded the Kentuckian with a kind of +stolid fearlessness. She was the first to speak. "I reckon +you-all have come after Miss Malroy," she observed quietly. + +"Then you reckon right," answered Carrington. The girl studied +him from beneath her level brows. + +"And you-all think you can take her away from here," she +speculated. "I ain't afraid of yo' knife--you-all might use it +fast enough on a man, but not on me. I'll help you," she added. +Carrington gave her an incredulous glance. "You don't believe +me? What's to hinder my calling for help? That would fetch our +men up from the keel boat. No--yo'-all's knife wouldn't stop +me!" + +"Don't be too sure of that," said Carrington sternly. The girl +met the menace of his words with soft, fullthroated laughter. + +"Why, yo' hand's shakin' now, Mr. Carrington!" + +"You know me?" + +"Yes, I seen you once at Boggs'." She made an impatient +movement. "You can't do nothing against them fo' men unless I +help you. Miss Malroy's to go down river to-night; they're only +waiting fo' a pilot--you-all's got to act quick!" + +Carrington hesitated. + +"Why do you want Miss Malroy to escape?" he said. + +The girl's mood changed abruptly. She scowled at him. + +"I reckon that's a private matter. Ain't it enough fo' you-all +to know that I do? I'm showing how it can be done. Them four +men on the keel boat are strangers in these parts, they're +waiting fo' a pilot, but they don't know who he'll be. I've +heard you-all was a riverman; what's to hinder yo' taking the +pilot's place? Looks like yo' was willing to risk yo' life fo' +Miss Malroy or you wouldn't be here." + +"I'm ready," said Carrington, his hand on the door. + +"No, you ain't--jest yet," interposed the girl hastily. "Listen +to me first. They's a dugout tied up 'bout a hundred yards above +the keel boat; you must get that to cross in to the other side of +the bayou, then when yo're ready to come back yo're to whistle +three times--it's the signal we're expecting--and I'll row across +fo' you in one of the skiffs." + +"Can you see Miss Malroy in the meantime?" + +"If I want to, they's nothin' to hinder me," responded Bess +sullenly. + +"Tell her then--" began Carrington, but Bess interrupted him. + +"I know what yo' want. She ain't to cry out or nothin' when she +sees you-all. I got sense enough fo' that." + +Carrington looked at her curiously. + +"This may be a serious business for your people," he said +significantly, and watched her narrowly. + +"And you-all may get killed. I reckin if yo' want to do a thing +bad enough you don't mind much what comes after," she answered +with a hard little laugh, as she went from the shed. + +"Come!" said Carrington to the negro, when he had seen the cabin +door close on Bess and her lantern; and they stole across the +clearing. Reaching the bayou side they began a noiseless search +for the dugout, which they quickly found, and Carrington turned +to George. "Can you swim?" he asked. + +"Yes, Mas'r." + +"Then go down into the water and drag the canoe farther along the +shore--and for God's sake, no sound!" he cautioned. + +They placed a second hundred yards between themselves and the +keel boat in this manner, then he had George bring the dug-out to +the bank, and they embarked. Keeping within the shadow of the +trees that fringed the shore, Carrington paddled silently about +the head of the bayou. + +"George," he at length said, bending toward the negro; "my horse +is tied in the woods on the right-hand side of the road just +above where you were taken from the carriage last night--you can +be at Belle Plain inside of an hour." + +"Look here, Mas'r Ca'ington, those folks yonder is kin to Boss +Hicks. If he get his hand on me first don't you reckon he'll +stop my mouth? I been here heaps of times fotchin' letters fo' +Mas'r Tom," added George. + +"Who were the letters for?" asked the Kentuckian, greatly +surprised. + +"They was fo' that Captain Murrell; seems like him and Mas'r Tom +was mixed up in a sight of business." + +"When was this--recently?" inquired Carrington. He was turning +this astonishing statement of the slave over in his mind. + +"Well, no, Mas'r; seems like they ain't so thick here recently." + +"I reckon you'd better keep away from the big house yet a while," +said Carrington. "Instead of going there, stop at the Belle +Plain landing. You'll find a raft tied up to the shore, it +belongs to a man named Cavendish. Tell him what you know. That +I've found Miss Malroy and the boy, tell him to cast off and +drift down here. I'll run the keel boat aground the first chance +I get, so tell him to keep a sharp lookout." + +A few minutes later they had separated, George to hurry away in +search of the horse, and Carrington to pass back along the shore +until he gained a point opposite the clearing. He whistled +shrilly three times, and after an interval of waiting heard the +splash of oars and presently saw a skiff steal out of the gloom. + +"Who's there?" It was Bess who asked the question. + +"Carrington," he answered. + +"Lucky you ain't met the other man!" she said as she swept her +skiff alongside the bank. + +"Lucky for him, you mean. I'll take the oars," added Carrington +as he entered the skiff. + +Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel +boat became distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by +a backward stroke of the oars. + +"Hello!" he called. + +There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as +he sent the skiff forward. He felt that he was risking all now. + +"What do you want?" asked a surly voice. + +"You want Slosson!" quickly prompted the girl in a whisper. + +"I want to see Slosson!" said Carrington glibly and with +confidence, and once more he checked the skiff. + +"Who be you?" + +"Murrell sent you," prompted the girl again, in a hurried +whisper. + +"Murrell--" And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud. + +"Murrell?" cried the voice sharply. + +"--sent me!" said Carrington quickly, as though completing an +unfinished sentence. The girl laughed nervously under her +breath. + +"Row closter!" came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as +he was bidden. Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a +lantern was raised aloft and by its light they looked him over. +There was a moment's silence broken by Carrington, who asked: + +"Which one of you is Slosson?" And he sprang lightly aboard the +keel boat. + +"I'm Slosson," answered the man with the lantern. The previous +night Mr. Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and +elevating influence of corn whisky, but now he was his own +cheerless self, and rather jaded by the passing of the hours +which he had sacrificed to an irksome responsibility. "What word +do you fetch from the Captain, brother?" he demanded. + +"Miss Malroy is to be taken down river," responded Carrington. +Slosson swore with surpassing fluency. + +"Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him! +You can get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about +it right--I've done it lots of times." Not understanding the +significance of Slosson's allusion to his own matrimonial career, +Carrington held his peace. The tavern-beeper swore again with +unimpaired vigor. "You'll find mighty few men with more +experience than me," he asserted, shaking his head. "But if you +say the word--" + +"I'm all for getting shut of this!" answered Carrington promptly, +with a sweep of his arm. "I call these pretty close quarters!" +Still shaking his head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang +ashore and mounted the bank, where his slouching figure quickly +lost itself in the night. + +Carrington took up his station on the flat roof of the cabin +which filled the stern of the boat. He was remembering that day +in the sandy Barony road--and during all the weeks and months +that had intervened, Murrell, working in secret, had moved +steadily toward the fulfilment of his desires! Unquestionably he +had been back of the attack on Norton, had inspired his +subsequent murder, and the man's sinister and mysterious power +had never been suspected. Carrington knew that the horse-thieves +and slave stealers were supposed to maintain a loosely knit +association; he wondered if Murrell were not the moving spirit in +some such organization. + +"If I'd only pushed my quarrel with him!" he thought bitterly. + +He heard Slosson's shuffling step in the distance, a word or two +when he spoke grufy to some one, and a moment later he saw Betty +and the boy, their forms darkly silhouetted against the lighter +sky as they moved along the top of the bank. Slosson, without +any superfluous gallantry, helped his captives down the slope and +aboard the keel boat, where he locked them in the cabin, the door +of which fastened with a hasp and wooden peg. + +"You're boss now, pardner!" he said, joining Carrington at the +steering oar. + +"We'll cast off then," answered Carrington. + +Thus far nothing had occurred to mar his plans. If they could +but quit the bayou before the arrival of the man whose place he +had taken, the rest would be if not easy of accomplishment, at +least within the realm of the possible. + +"I reckon you're a river-man?" observed Slosson. + +"All my life." + +The line had been cast off, and the crew with their setting poles +were forcing the boat away from the bank. All was quietly done; +except for an occasional order from Carrington no word was +spoken, and soon the unwieldy craft glided into the sluggish +current and gathered way. Mr. Slosson, who clearly regarded his +relation to the adventure as being of an official character, +continued to stand at Carrington's elbow. + +"What have we, between here and the river?" inquired the latter. +It was best, he felt, not to give Slosson an opportunity to ask +questions. + +"It narrows considerably, pardner, but it's a straight course," +said Slosson. "Black in yonder, ain't it?" he added, nodding +ahead. + +The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike +expanse behind. In the silence, above the rustling of the trees, +Carrington heard the first fret of 'the river against its bank. +Slosson yawned prodigiously. + +"I reckon you ain't needing me?" he said. + +"Better go up in the bow and get some sleep," advised Carrington, +and Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the +cabin and stumbled forward. + +The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness +as the keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the +beat of the Kentuckian's pulse quickened. Would he find the raft +there? He glanced back over the way they had come. The dark +ranks of the forest walled off the clearing, but across the water +a dim point of light was visible. He fixed its position as +somewhere near the head of the bayou. Apparently it was a +lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the +sky-line. + +From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon. +Suddenly he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep. The +tavern-keeper sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without +speaking. + +"Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?" cried +Slosson, addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he +snatched up his rifle. + +"That's what I'm trying to make out," answered Carrington. + +"Hell!" cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder. + +What seemed to be a breath of wind lifted a stray lock of +Carrington's hair, but his pistol answered Slosson in the same +second. He fired at the huddle of men in the bow of the boat and +one of them pitched forward with his arms outspread. + +"Keep back, you!" he said, and dropped off the cabin roof. + +His promptness had bred a momentary panic, then Slosson's +bull-like voice began to roar commands; but in that brief instant +of surprise and shock Carrington had found and withdrawn the +wooden peg that fastened the cabin door. He had scarcely done +this when Slosson came tramping aft supported by the three men. + +Calling to Betty and Hannibal to escape in the skiff which was +towing astern the Kentuckian rushed toward the bow. At his back +he heard the door creak on its hinges as it was pushed open by +Betty and the boy, and again he called to them to escape by the +skiff. The fret of the current had grown steadily and from +beneath the wide-flung branches of the trees which here met above +his head, Carrington caught sight of the starspecked arch of the +heavens beyond. They were issuing from the bayou. He felt the +river snatch at the keel boat, the buffeting of some swift eddy, +and saw the blunt bow swing off to the south as they were plunged +into the black shore shadows. + +But what he did not see was a big muscular hand which had thrust +itself out of the impenetrable gloom and clutched the side of the +keel boat. Coincident with this there arose a perfect babel of +voices, high-pitched and shrill. + +"Sho--I bet it's him! Sho'--it's Uncle Bob's nevvy! Sho', you +can hear 'em! Sho', they're shootin' guns! Sho'!" + +Carrington cast a hurried glance in the direction of these +sounds. There between the boat and the shore the dim outline of +a raft was taking shape. It was now canopied by a wealth of pale +gray smoke that faded from before his eyes as the darkness +lifted. Turning, he saw Slosson and his men clearly. Surprise +and consternation was depicted on each face. + +The light increased. From the flat stone hearth of the raft +ascended a tall column of flame which rendered visible six pygmy +figures, tow-headed and wonderfully vocal, who were toiling like +mad at the huge sweeps. The light showed more than this. It +showed a lady of plump and pleasing presence smoking a cobpipe +while she fed the fire from a tick stuffed with straw. It showed +two bark shanties, a line between them decorated with the +never-ending Cavendish wash. It showed a rooster perched on the +ridge-pole of one of these shanties in the very act of crowing +lustily. + +Hannibal, who had climbed to the roof of the cabin, shrieked for +help, and Betty added her voice to his. + +"All right, Nevvy!" came the cheerful reply, as Yancy threw +himself over the side of the boat and grappled with Slosson. + +"Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!" cried Hannibal. + +Slosson uttered a cry of terror. He had a simple but sincere +faith in the supernatural, and even with the Scratch Hiller's big +hands gripping his throat, he could not rid himself of the belief +that this was the ghost of a murdered man. + +"You'll take a dog's licking from me, neighbor?" said Yancy +grimly. "I been saving it fo' you!" + +Meanwhile Mr. Cavendish, whose proud spirit never greatly +inclined him to the practice of peace, had prepared for battle; +Springing aloft he knocked his heels together. + +"Whoop! I'm a man as can slide down a thorny locust and never +get scratched!" he shouted. This was equivalent to setting his +triggers; then he launched himself nimbly and with enthusiasm +into the thick of the fight. It was Mr. Bunker's unfortunate +privilege to sustain the onslaught of the Earl of Lambeth. + +The light from the Cavendish hearth continued to brighten the +scene, for Polly was recklessly sacrificing her best straw tick. +Indeed her behavior was in every way worthy of the noble alliance +she had formed. Her cob-pipe was not suffered to go out and with +Connie's help she kept the six small Cavendishes from risking +life and limb in the keel boat, toward which they were powerfully +drawn. Despite these activities she found time to call to Betty +and Hannibal on the cabin roof. + +"Jump down here; that ain't no fittin' place for you-all to stop +in with them gentlemen fightin'!" + +An instant later Betty and Hannibal stood on the raft with the +little Cavendishes flocking about them. Mr. Yancy's quest of his +nevvy had taken an enduring hold on their imagination. For weeks +it had constituted their one vital topic, and the fight became +merely a satisfying background for this interesting restoration. + +"Sho', they'd got him! Sho'--he wa'n't no bigger than Richard! +Sho'!" + +"Oh!" cried Betty, with a fearful glance toward the keel boat. +"Can't you stop them?" + +"What fo'?" asked Polly, opening her black eyes very wide. + +"Bless yo' tender heart!-you don't need to worry none, we got +them strange gentlemen licked like they was a passel of children! +Connie, you-all mind that fire!" + +She accurately judged the outcome of the fight. The boat was +little better than a shambles with the havoc that had been +wrought there when Yancy and Carrington dropped over its side to +the raft. Cavendish followed them, whooping his triumph as he +came. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE RAFT AGAIN + + +Yancy and Cavendish threw themselves on the sweeps and worked the +raft clear of the keel boat, then the turbulent current seized +the smaller craft and whirled it away into the night; as its +black bulk receded from before his eyes the Earl of Lambeth spoke +with the voice of authority and experience. + +"It was a good fight and them fellows done well, but not near +well enough." A conclusion that could not be gainsaid. He +added, "No one ain't hurt but them that had ought to have got +hurt. Mr. Yancy's all right, and so's Mr. Carrington--who's +mighty welcome here." The earl's shock of red hair was bristling +like the mane of some angry animal and his eyes still flashed +with the light of battle, but he managed to summon up an +expression of winning friendliness. + +"Mr. Carrington's kin to me, Polly," explained Yancy to Mrs. +Cavendish. His voice was far from steady, for Hannibal had been +gathered into his arms and had all but wrecked the stoic calm +with which the Scratch Hiller was seeking to guard his emotions. + +Polly smiled and dimpled at the Kentuckian. Trained to a +romantic point of view she had a frank liking for handsome +stalwart men. Cavendish was neither, but none knew better than +Polly that where he was most lacking in appearance he was richest +in substance. He carried scars honorably earned in those +differences he had been prone to cultivate with less generous +natures; for his scheme of life did not embrace the millennium. + +"Thank God, you got here when you did!" said Carrington. + +"We was some pushed fo' time, but we done it," responded the earl +modestly. He added, "What now?--do we make a landing?" + +"No--unless it interferes with your plans not to. I 'want to get +around the next bend before we tie up. Later we'll all go back. +Can I count on you?" + +"You shorely can. I consider this here as sociable a +neighborhood as I ever struck. It pleases me well. Folks are up +and doing hereabout." + +Carrington looked eagerly around in search of Betty. She was +sitting on an upturned tub, a pathetic enough figure as she +drooped against the wall of one of the shanties with all her +courage quite gone from her. He made his way quickly to her +side. + +"La!" whispered Polly in Chills and Fever's ear. "If that pore +young thing yonder keeps a widow it won't be because of any +encouragement she gets from Mr. Carrington. If I ever seen +marriage in a man's eye I seen it in his this minute!" + +"Bruce!" cried Betty, starting up as Carrington approached. "Oh, +Bruce, I am so glad you have come--you are not hurt?" She +accepted his presence without question. She had needed him and +he had not failed her. + +"We are none of us hurt, Betty," he said gently, as he took her +hand. + +He saw that the suffering she had undergone during the preceding +twenty-four hours had left its record on her tired face and in +her heavy eyes. She retained a shuddering consciousness of the +unchecked savagery of those last moments on the keel boat; she +was still hearing the oaths of the men as they struggled +together, the sound of blows, and the dreadful silences that had +followed them. She turned from him, and there came the relief of +tears. + +"There, Betty, the danger is over now and you were so brave while +it lasted. I can't bear to have you cry!" + +"I was wild with fear--all that time on the boat, Bruce--" she +faltered between her sobs. "I didn't know but they would find +you out. I could only wait and hope--and pray!" + +"I was in no danger, dear. Didn't the girl tell you I was to +take the place of a man Slosson was expecting? He never doubted +that I was that man until a light--a signal it must have been--on +the shore at the head of the bayou betrayed me." + +"Where are we going now, Bruce? Not the way they went--" and +Betty glanced out into the black void where the keel boat had +merged into the gloom. + +"No, no--but we can't get the raft back up-stream against the +current, so the best thing is to land at the Bates' plantation +below here; then as soon as you are able we can return to Belle +Plain," said Carrington. + +There was an interval broken only by the occasional sweep of the +great steering oar as Cavendish coaxed the raft out toward the +channel. The thought of Charley Norton's murder rested on +Carrington like a pall. Scarcely a week had elapsed since he +quitted Thicket Point and in that week the hand of death had +dealt with them impartially, and to what end? Then the miles he +had traversed in his hopeless journey up-river translated +themselves into a division of time as well as space. They were +just so much further removed from the past with its blight of +tragic terror. He turned and glanced at Betty. He saw that her +eyes held their steady look of wistful pity that was for the dead +man; yet in spite of this, and in spite of the bounds beyond +which he would not let his imagination carry him, the future +enriched with sudden promise unfolded itself. The deep sense of +recovered hope stirred within him. He knew there must come a day +when he would dare to speak of his love, and she would listen. + +"It's best we should land at Bates' place--we can get teams +there," he went on to explain. "And, Betty, wherever we go we'll +go together, dear. Cavendish doesn't look as if he had any very +urgent business of his own, and I reckon the same is true of +Yancy, so I am going to keep them with us. There are some points +to be cleared up when we reach Belle Plain--some folks who'll +have a lot to explain or else quit this part of the state! And I +intend to see that you are not left alone until--until I have the +right to take care of you for good and all--that's what you want +me to do one of these days, isn't it, darling?" and his eyes, +glowing and infinitely tender, dwelt on her upturned face. + +But Betty shrank from him in involuntary agitation. + +"Oh, not now, Bruce--not now--we mustn't speak of that--it's +wrong--it's wicked--you mustn't make me forget him!" she cried +brokenly, in protest. + +"Forgive me, Betty, I'll not speak of it again," he said. + +"Wait, Bruce, and some time--Oh, don't make me say it," she +gasped, "or I shall hate myself!" for in his presence she was +feeling the horror of her past experience grow strangely remote, +only the dull ache of her memories remained, and to these she +clung. They were silent for a moment, then Carrington said: + +"After I'm sure you'll be safe here perhaps I'll go south into +the Choctaw Purchase. I've been thinking of that recently; but +I'll find my way back here--don't misunderstand me--I'll not come +too soon for even you, Betty. I loved Norton. He was one of my +best friends, too," he continued gently. "But you know--and I +know--dear, the day will come when no matter where you are I +shall find you again--find you and not lose you!" + +Betty made no answer in words, but a soft and eloquent little +hand was slipped into his and allowed to rest there. + +Presently a light wind stirred the dead dense atmosphere, the +mist lifted and enveloped the shore, showing them the river +between piled-up masses of vapor. Apparently it ran for their +raft alone. It was just twenty-four hours since Carrington had +looked upon such another night but this was a different world the +gray fog was unmasking--a world of hopes, and dreams, and rich +content. Then the thought of Norton--poor Norton who had had his +world, too, of hopes and dreams and rich content-- + +The calm of a highly domestic existence had resumed its +interrupted sway on the raft. Mr. Cavendish, associated in +Betty's memory with certain earsplitting manifestations of +ferocious rage, became in the bosom of his family low-voiced and +genial and hopelessly impotent to deal with his five small sons; +while Yancy was again the Bob Yancy of Scratch Hill, violence of +any sort apparently had no place in his nature. He was deeply +absorbed in Hannibal's account of those vicissitudes which had +befallen him during their separation. They were now seated +before a cheerful fire that blazed on the hearth, the boy very +close to Yancy with one hand clasped in the Scratch Hiller's, +while about them were ranged the six small Cavendishes sedately +sharing in the reunion of uncle and nevvy, toward which they felt +they had honorably labored. + +"And you wa'n't dead, Uncle Bob?" said Hannibal with a deep +breath, viewing Yancy unmistakably in the flesh. + +"Never once. I been floating peacefully along with these here +titled friends of mine; but I was some anxious about you, son." + +"And Mr. Slosson, Uncle Bob--did you smack him like you smacked +Dave Blount that day when he tried to steal me?" asked Hannibal, +whose childish sense of justice demanded reparation for the +wrongs they had suffered. + +Mr. Yancy extended a big right hand, the knuckle of which was +skinned and bruised. + +"He were the meanest man I ever felt obliged fo' to hit with my +fist, Nevvy; it appeared like he had teeth all over his face." + +"Sho--where's his hide, Uncle Bob?" cried the little Cavendishes +in an excited chorus. "Sho--did you forget that?" They +themselves had forgotten the unique enterprise to which Mr. Yancy +was committed, but the allusion to Slosson had revived their +memory of it. + +"Well, he begged so piteous to be allowed fo' to keep his hide, I +hadn't the heart to strip it off," explained Mr. Yancy +pleasantly. "And the winter's comin' onat this moment I can feel +a chill in the air--don't you-all reckon he's goin' to need it +fo' to keep the cold out,' Sho', you mustn't be bloody-minded!" + +"What was it about Mr. Slosson's hide, Uncle Bob?" demanded +Hannibal. "What was you a-goin' to do to that?" + +"Why, Nevvy, after he beat me up and throwed me in the river, I +was some peevish fo' a spell in my feelings fo' him," said Yancy, +in a tone of gentle regret. He glanced at his bruised hand. +"But I'm right pleased to be able to say that I've got over all +them oncharitable thoughts of mine." + +"And you seen the judge, Uncle Bob?" questioned Hannibal. + +"Yes, I've seen the judge. We was together fo' part of a day. +Me and him gets on fine." + +"Where is he now, Uncle Bob?" + +"I reckon he's back at Belle Plain by this time. You see we left +him in Raleigh along after noon to 'tend tosome business he had +on hand. I never seen a gentleman of his weight so truly spry on +his legs--and all about you, Nevvy; while as to mind! Sho--why, +words flowed out of him as naturally as water out of a branch." + +Of Hannibal's relationship to the judge he said nothing. He felt +that was a secret to be revealed by the judge himself when he +should see fit. + +"Uncle Bob, who'm I going to live with now?" questioned Hannibal +anxiously. + +"That p'int's already come up, Nevvy--him and me's decided that +there won't be no friction. You-all will just go on living with +him." + +"But what about you, Uncle Bob?" cried Hannibal, lifting a +wistful little face to Yancy's. + +"Oh, me?--well, you-all will go right on living with me." + +"And what will come of Mr. Mahaffy?" + +"I reckon you-all will go right on living witli him, too." + +"Uncle Bob, you mean you reckon we are all going to live in one +house?" + +"I 'low it will have to be fixed that-a-ways," agreed Yancy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE JUDGE RECEIVES A LETTER + + +After he had parted with Solomon Mahaffy the judge applied +himself diligently to shaping that miracle-working document which +he was preparing as an offset to whatever risk he ran in meeting +Fentress. As sanguine as he was sanguinary he confidently +expected to survive the encounter, yet it was well to provide for +a possible emergency--had he not his grandson's future to +consider? While thus occupied he saw the afternoon stage arrive +and depart from before the City Tavern. + +Half an hour later Mr. Wesley, the postmaster, came sauntering up +the street. In his hand he carried a letter. + +"Howdy," he drawled, from just beyond the judge's open door. + +The judge glanced up, his quill pen poised aloft. + +"Good evening, sir; won't you step inside and be seated?" he +asked graciously. His dealings with the United States mail +service were of the most insignificant description, and in +personally delivering a letter, if this was what had brought him +there, he felt Mr. Wesley had reached the limit of official +courtesy and despatch. + +"Well, sir; it looks like you'd never told us more than +two-thirds of the truth!" said the postmaster. He surveyed the +judge curiously. + +"I am complimented by your opinion of my veracity," responded +that gentleman promptly. "I consider two-thirds an enormously +high per cent to have achieved." + +"There is something in that, too," agreed Mr. Wesley. "Who is +Colonel Slocum Price Turberville?" + +The judge started up from his chair. + +"I have that honor," said he, bowing. + +"Well, here's a letter come in addressed like that, and as you've +been using part of the name I am willing to assume you're legally +entitled to the rest of it. It clears up a point that off and on +has troubled me considerable. I can only wonder I wa'n't +smarter;" + +"What point, may I ask?" + +"Why, about the time you hung out your shingle here, some one +wrote a letter to General Jackson. It was mailed after night, +and when I seen it in the morning I was clean beat. I couldn't +locate the handwriting and yet I kept that letter back a couple +of days and give it all my spare time. It ain't that I'm one of +your spying sort--there's nothing of the Yankee about me!" + +"Certainly not," agreed the judge. + +"Candid, Judge, I reckon you wrote that letter, seeing this one +comes under a frank from Washington. No, sir--I couldn't make +out who was corresponding with the president and it worried me, +not knowing, more than anything I've had to contend against since +I came into office. I calculate there ain't a postmaster in the +United States takes a more personal interest in the service than +me. I've frequently set patrons right when they was in doubt as +to the date they had mailed such and such ƒ letter." As Mr. +Wesley sometimes canceled as many as three or four stamps in a +single day he might have been pardoned his pride in a brain which +thus lightly dealt with the burden of official business. He +surrendered the letter with marked reluctance. + +"Your surmise is correct," said the judge with dignity. "I had +occasion to write my friend, General Jackson, and unless I am +greatly mistaken I have my answer here." And with a fine air of +indifference he tossed the letter on the table. + +"And do you know Old Hickory?" cried Mr. Wesley. + +"Why not? Does it surprise you?" inquired the judge. It was +only his innate courtesy which restrained him from kicking the +postmaster into the street, so intense was his desire to be rid +of him. + +"No, I don't know as it does, judge. Naturally a public man like +him is in the way of meeting with all sorts. A politician can't +afford to be too blame particular. Well, next time you write you +might just send him my regards--G. W. M. de L. Wesley's +regards--there was considerable contention over my getting this +office; I reckon he ain't forgot. There was speeches made, I +understand the lie was passed between two United States senators, +and that a quid of tobacco was throwed in anger." Having thus +clearly established the fact that he was a more or less national +character, Mr. Wesley took himself off. + +When he had disappeared from sight down the street, the judge +closed the door. Then he picked up the letter. For along minute +he held it in his hand, uncertain, fearful, while his mind +slipped back into the past until his inward searching vision +ferreted out a handsome soldierly figure--his own. + +"That's what Jackson remembers if he remembers anything!" he +muttered, as with trembling fingers he broke the seal. Almost +instantly a smile overspread his battered features. He hitched +his chin higher and squared his ponderous shoulders. "I am not +forgotten--no, damn it--no!" he exulted under his breath, +"recalls me with sincere esteem and considers my services to the +country as well worthy of recognition--" the judge breathed deep. +What would Mahaffy find to say now! Certainly this was well +calculated to disturb the sour cynicism of his friend. His +bleared eyes brimmed. After all his groping he had touched hands +with the realities at last! Even a federal judgeship, though not +an office of the first repute in the south. had its dignity--it +signified something! He would make Solomon his clerk! The judge +reached for his hat. Mahaffy must know at once that fortune had +mended for them. Why, at that moment he was actually in receipt +of an income! + +He sat down, the better to enjoy the unique sensation. Taxes +were being levied and collected with no other end in view than +his stipend--his ardent fancy saw the whole machinery of +government in operation for his benefit. It was a singular +feeling he experienced. Then promptly his spendthrift brain +became active. He needed clothes--so did Mahaffy--so did his +grandson; they must take a larger house; he would buy himself a +man servant; these were pressing necessities as he now viewed +them. + +Once again he reached for his hat, the desire to rush off to +Belle Plain was overmastering. + +"I reckon I'd be justified in hiring a conveyance from Pegloe," +he thought, but just here he had a saving memory of his +unfinished task; that claimed precedence and he resumed his pen. + +An hour later Pegloe's black boy presented himself to the judge. +He came bearing a gift, and the gift appropriately enough was a +square case bottle of respectable size. The judge was greatly +touched by this attention, but he began by making a most +temperate use of the tavern-keeper's offering; then as the +formidable document he was preparing took shape under his hand he +more and more lost that feeling of Spartan fortitude which had at +first sustained him in the presence of temptation. He wrote and +sipped in complete and quiet luxury, and when at last he had +exhausted the contents of the bottle it occurred to him that it +would be only proper personally to convey his thanks to Pegloe. +Perhaps he was not uninspired in this by ulterior hopes; if so, +they were richly rewarded. The resources of the City Tavern were +suddenly placed at his disposal. He attributed this to a variety +of causes all good and sufficient, but the real reason never +suggested itself, indeed it was of such a perfidious nature that +the judge, open and generous-minded, could not have grasped it. + +By six o'clock he was undeniably drunk; at eight he was sounding +still deeper depths of inebriety with only the most confused +memory of impending events; at ten he collapsed and was borne +up-stairs by Pegloe and his black boy to a remote chamber in the +kitchen wing. Here he was undressed and put to bed, and the +tavernkeeper, making a bundle of his clothes, retired from the +room, locking the door after him, and the judge was doubly a +prisoner. + +Rousing at last from a heavy dreamless sleep the judge was aware +of a faint impalpable light in his room, the ashen light of a +dull October dawn. He was aware, too, of a feeling of profound +depression. He knew this was the aftermath of indulgence and +that he might look forward to forty-eight hours of utter misery +of soul, and, groaning aloud, he closed his eyes, Sleep was the +thing if he could compass it. Instead, his memory quickened. +Something was to happen at sunup--he could not recall what it was +to be, though he distinctly remembered that Mahaffy had spoken of +this very matter--Mahaffy, the austere and implacable, the +disembodied conscience whose fealty to duty had somehow survived +his own spiritual ruin, so that he had become a sort of moral +sign-post, ever pointing the way yet never going it himself. The +judge lay still and thought deeply as the light intensified +itself. What was it that Mahaffy had said he was to do at +sun-up? The very hour accented his suspicions. Probably it was +no more than some cheerless obligation to be met, or Mahaffy +would not have been so concerned about it. Eventually he decided +to refer everything to Mahaffy. He spoke his friend's name +weakly and in a shaking voice, but received no answer. + +"Solomon!" he repeated, and shifting his position, looked in what +should have been the direction of the shake-down bed his friend +occupied. Neither the bed nor Mahaffy were there. The judge +gasped he wondered if this were not a premonition of certain +hallucinations to which he was not a stranger. Then all in a +flash he remembered Fentress and the meeting at Boggs', something +of how the evening had been spent, and a spasm of regret shook +him. + +"I had other things to think of. This must never happen again!" +he told himself remorsefully. + +He was wide-awake now. Doubtless Pegloe had put him to bed. +Well, that had been thoughtful of Pegloe--he would not forget +him--the City Tavern should continue to enjoy his patronage. It +would be something for Pegloe to boast of that judge Slocum Price +Turberville always made his place headquarters when in Raleigh. +Feeling that he had already conferred wealth and distinction on +the fortunate Pegloe the judge thrust his fat legs over the side +of his bed and stood erect. Stooping he reached for his clothes. +He confidently expected to find them on the floor, but his hand +merely swept an uncarpeted waste. The judge was profoundly +astonished. + +"Maybe I've got 'em on, I don't recall taking them off!" he +thought hopefully. He moved uncertainly in the direction of the +window where the light showed him his own bare extremities. He +reverted to his original idea that his clothes were scattered +about the floor. + +He was beginning to experience a great sense of haste, it was two +miles to Boggs' and Fentress would be there at sun-up. Finally +he abandoned his quest of the missing garments and turned to the +door. To say that he was amazed when he found it locked would +have most inadequately described his emotions. Breathing deep, +he fell back a step or two, and then with all the vigor he could +muster launched himself at the door. But it resisted him. +"It's bolted on the other side!" he muttered, the full measure of +Pegloe's perfidy revealing itself to his mind. + +He was aghast. It was a plot to discredit him. Pegloe's +hospitality had been inspired by his enemy, for Pegloe was +Fentress' tenant. + +Again he attacked the door; he believed it might be possible to +force it from its hinges, but Pegloe had done his work too well +for that, and at last, spent and breathless, the judge dropped +down on the edge of his bed to consider the situation. He was +without clothes and he was a prisoner, yet his mind rose +splendidly to meet the difficulties that beset him. His greatest +activities were reserved for what appeared to be only a season of +despair. He armed himself with a threelegged stool he had found +and turned once more to the door, but the stout planks stood firm +under his blows. + +"Unless I get out of here in time I'm a ruined man!" thought the +judge. "After this Fentress will refuse to meet me!" + +The window next engaged his attention. That, too, Pegloe had +taken the precaution to fasten, but a single savage blow of the +stool shattered glass and sash and left an empty space that +framed the dawn's red glow. The judge looked out and shook his +head dubiously. It was twelve feet or more to the ground, a +risky drop for a gentleman of his years and build. The judge +considered making a rope of his bedding and lowering himself to +the ground by means of it, he remembered to have read of captives +in that interesting French prison, the Bastille, who did this. +However, an equally ingenious but much more simple use for his +bedding occurred to him; it would form a soft and yielding +substance on which to alight. He gathered it up into his arms, +feather-tick and all, and pushed it through the window, then he +wriggled out across the ledge, feet first, and lowering himself +to the full length of his arms, dropped. + +He landed squarely on the rolled-up bed with a jar that shook him +to his center. Almost gaily he snatched up a quilt, draping it +about him after the manner of a Roman, toga, and thus lightly +habited, started across Mr. Pegloe's truck-patch, his one thought +Boggs' and the sun. It would have served no purpose to have gone +home, since his entire wardrobe, except for the shirt on his +back, was in the tavern-keeper's possession, besides he had not a +moment to lose, for the sun was peeping at him over the horizon. + +Unobserved he gained the edge of the town and the highroad that +led past Boggs' and stole a fearful glance over his shoulder. +The sun was clear of the treetops, he could even feel the +lifeless dust grow warm beneath his feet; and wrapping the quilt +closer about him he broke into a labored run. + +Some twenty minutes later Boggs' came in sight. He experienced a +moment of doubt--suppose Fentress had been there and gone! It +was a hideous thought and the judge groaned. Then at the other +end of the meadow near the woods he distinguished several men, +Fentress and his friends beyond question. The judge laughed +aloud. In spite of everything he was keeping his engagement, he +was plucking his triumph out of the very dregs of failure. The +judge threw himself over the fence, a corner of the quilt caught +on one of the rails; he turned to release it, and in that instant +two pistol shots rang out sharply in the morning air. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE DUEL + + +It had been with no little reluctance that Solomon Mahaffy +accompanied Yancy and Cavendish to Belle Plain; he would have +preferred to remain in Raleigh in attendance upon judge Price. +Intimately acquainted with the judge's mental processes, he could +follow all the devious workings of that magnificent mind; he +could fathom the simply hellish ingenuity he was capable of +putting forth to accomplish temporary benefits. Permitting his +thoughts to dwell upon the mingled strength and weakness which +was so curiously blended in Slocum Price's character, he had +horrid visions of that great soul, freed from the trammels of +restraint, confiding his melancholy history to Mr. Pegloe in the +hope of bolstering his fallen credit at the City Tavern. + +Always where the judge was concerned he fluctuated between +extremes of doubt and confidence. He felt that under the urgent +spur of occasion his friend could rise to any emergency, while a +sustained activity made demands which he could not satisfy; then +his efforts were discounted by his insane desire to realize at +once on his opportunities; in his haste he was for ever plucking +unripe fruit; and though he might keep one eye on the main chance +the other was fixed just as resolutely on the nearest tavern. + +With the great stake which fate had suddenly introduced into +their losing game, he wished earnestly to believe that the judge +would stay quietly in his office and complete the task he had set +himself; that with this off his hands the promise of excitement +at Belle Plain would compel his presence there, when he would +pass somewhat under the restraining influence which he was +determined to exert; in short, to Solomon, life embraced just the +one vital consideration, which was to maintain the judge in a +state of sobriety until after his meeting with Fentress. + +The purple of twilight was stealing over the land when he and his +two companions reached Belle Plain. They learned that Tom Ware +had returned from Memphis, that the bayou had been dragged but +without results, and that as yet nothing had been heard from +Carrington or the dogs he had gone for. + +Presently Cavendish and Yancy set off across the fields. They +were going on to the raft, to Polly and the six little +Cavendishes, whom they had not seen since early morning; but they +promised to be back at Belle Plain within an hour. + +By very nature an alien, Mahaffy sought out a dark corner on the +wide porch that overlooked the river to await their return. The +house had been thrown open, and supper was being served to +whoever cared to stay and partake of it. The murmur of idle +purposeless talk drifted out to him; he was irritated and +offended by it. There was something garish in this +indiscriminate hospitality in the very home of tragedy. As the +moments slipped by his sense of displeasure increased, with +mankind in general, with himself, and with the judge--principally +with the judge--who was to make a foolish target of himself in +the morning. He was going to give the man who had wrecked his +life a chance to take it as well. Mahaffy's cold logic dealt +cynically with the preposterous situation his friend had created. + +In the midst of his angry meditations he heard a clock strike in +the hall and counted the strokes. It was nine o'clock. Surely +Yancy and Cavendish had been gone their hour! He quitted his +seat and strolled restlessly about the house. He felt deeply +indignant with everybody and everything. Human intelligence +seemed but a pitiable advance on brute instinct. A whole day had +passed and what had been accomplished? Carrington, the judge, +Yancy, Cavendish--the four men who might have worked together to +some purpose had widely separated themselves; and here was the +duel, the very climax of absurdity. He resumed his dark corner +and waited another hour. Still no Carrington, and Yancy and +Cavendish had not come up from the raft. + +"Fools!" thought Mahaffy bitterly. "All of them fools!" + +At last he decided to go back to the judge; and a moment later +was hurrying down the lane in the direction of the highroad, but, +jaded as he was by the effort he had already put forth that day, +the walk to Raleigh made tremendous demands on him, and it was +midnight when he entered the little town. + +It can not be said that he was altogether surprised when he found +their cottage dark and apparently deserted. He had half expected +this. Entering, and not stopping to secure a candle, he groped +his way up-stairs to the room on the second floor which he and +the judge shared. + +"Price!" he called, but this gained him no response, and he +cursed softly under his breath. + +He hastily descended to the kitchen, lighted a candle, and +stepped into the adjoining room. On the table was a neat pile of +papers, and topping the pile was the president's letter. Being +burdened by no false scruples, and thinking it might afford some +clue to the judge's whereabouts, Mahaffy took it up and read it. +Having mastered its contents he instantly glanced in the +direction of the City Tavern, but it was wrapped in darkness. + +"Price is drunk somewhere," was his definite conclusion. "But +he'll be at Boggs' the first thing in the morning--most likely so +far gone he can hardly stand!" The letter, with its striking +news, made little or no impression on him just then; it merely +furnished the clue he had sought. The judge was off somewhere +marketing his prospects. + +After a time Mahaffy went up-stairs, and, without removing his +clothes, threw himself on the bed. He was worn down to the point +of exhaustion, yet he could not sleep, though the deep silence +warned him that day was not far off. What if--but he would not +let the thought shape itself in his mind. He had witnessed the +judge's skill with the pistol, and he had even a certain +irrational faith in that gentleman's destiny. He prayed God that +Fentress might die quickly and decently with the judge's bullet +through his brain. Over and over in savage supplication he +muttered his prayer that Fentress might die. + +He began to watch for the coming of the dawn, but before the +darkness lifted he had risen from the bed and gone downstairs, +where he made himself a cup of wretched coffee. Then he blew out +his candle and watched the gray light spread. He was impatient +now to be off, and fully an hour before the sun, set out for +Boggs', a tall, gaunt figure in the shadowy uncertainty of that +October morning. He was the first to reach the place of meeting, +but he had scarcely entered the meadow when Fentress rode up, +attended by Tom Ware. They dismounted, and the colonel lifted +his hat. Mahaffy barely acknowledged the salute; he was in no +mood for courtesies that meant nothing. Ware was clearly of the +same mind. + +There was an awkward pause, then Fentress and Ware spoke together +in a low tone. The planter's speech was broken and hoarse, and +his heavy, bloodshot eyes were the eyes of a haunted man; this +was all a part of Fentress' scheme to face the world, and Ware +still believed that the fires Hicks had kindled had served his +desperate need. + +When the first long shadows stole out from the edge of the woods +Fentress turned to Mahaffy, whose glance was directed toward the +distant corner of the field, where he knew his friend must first +appear. + +"Why are we waiting, sir?" he demanded, his tone cold and formal. + +"Something has occurred to detain Price," answered Mahaffy. + +The colonel and Ware exchanged looks. Again they spoke together, +while Mahaffy watched the road. Ten minutes slipped by in this +manner, and once more Fentress addressed Mahaffy. + +"Do you know what could have detained him?" he inquired, the +ghost of a smile curling his thin lips. + +"I don't," said Mahaffy, and relapsed into a moody and anxious +silence. He held dueling in very proper abhorrence, and only his +feeling of intense but never-declared loyalty to his friend had +brought him there. + +Another interval of waiting succeeded. + +"I have about reached the end of my patience; I shall wait just +ten minutes longer," said Fentress, and drew out his watch. + +"Something has happened--" began Mahaffy. + +"I have kept my engagement; he should have kept his," Fentress +continued, addressing Ware. "I am sorry to have brought you here +for nothing, Tom." + +"Wait!" said Mahaffy, planting himself squarely before Fentress. + +"I consider this comic episode at an end," and Fentress pocketed +his watch. + +"Scarcely!" rejoined Mahaffy. His long arm shot out and the open +palm of his hand descended on the colonel's face. "I am here for +my friend," he said grimly. + +The colonel's face paled and colored by turns. + +"Have you a weapon?" he asked, when he could command his voice. +Mahaffy exhibited the pistol he had carried to Belle Plain the +day before. + +"Step off the ground, Tom." Fentress spoke quietly. When Ware +had done as he requested, the colonel spoke again. "You are my +witness that I was the victim of an unprovoked attack." + +Mr. Ware accepted this statement with equanimity, not to say +indifference. + +"Are you ready?" he asked; he glanced at Mahaffy, who by a slight +inclination of the head signified that he was. "I reckon you're +a green hand at this sort of thing?" commented Tom evilly. + +"Yes," said Mahaffy tersely. + +"Well, listen: I shall count, one, two, three; at the word three +you will fire. Now take your positions." + +Mahaffy and the colonel stood facing each other, a distance of +twelve paces separating them. Mahaffy was pale but dogged, he +eyed Fentress unflinchingly. Quick on the word Fentress fired, +an instant later Mahaffy's pistol exploded; apparently neither +bullet had taken effect, the two men maintained the rigid +attitude they had assumed; then Mahaffy was seen to turn on his +heels, next his arm dropped to his side and the pistol slipped +from his fingers, a look of astonishment passed over his face and +left it vacant and staring while his right hand stole up toward +his heart; he raised it slowly, with difficulty, as though it +were held down by some invisible weight. + +A hush spread across the field. It was like one of nature's +invisible transitions. Along the edge of the woods the song of +birds was stricken into silence. Ware, heavy-eyed Fentress, his +lips twisted by a tortured smile, watched Mahaffy as he panted +for breath, with his hand clenched against his chest. That dead +oppressive silence lasted but a moment, from out of it came a cry +that smote on the wounded man's ears and reached his +consciousness. + +"It's Price--" he gasped, his words bathed in blood. and he +pitched forward on his face. + +Ware and Fentress had heard the cry, too, and running to their +horses threw themselves into the saddle and galloped off. The +judge midway of the meadow roared out a furious protest but the +mounted men turned into the highroad and vanished from sight, and +the judge's shaking legs bore him swiftly in the direction of the +gaunt figure on the ground. + +Mahaffy struggled to rise, for he was hearing his friend's voice +now, the voice of utter anguish, calling his name. At last +painful effort brought him to his knees. He saw the judge, +clothed principally in a gaily colored bed-quilt, hatless and +shoeless, his face sodden and bleary from his night's debauch. +Mahaffy stood erect and staggered toward him, his hand over his +wound, his features drawn and livid, then with a cry he dropped +at his friend's feet. + +"Solomon! Solomon!" And the judge knelt beside him. + +"It's all right, Price; I kept your appointment," whispered +Mahaffy; a bloody spume was gathering on his lips, and he stared +up at his friend with glassy eyes. + +In very shame the judge hid his face in his hands, while sobs +shook him. + +"Solomon--Solomon, why did you do this?" he cried miserably. + +The harsh lines on the dying man's face erased themselves. + +"You're the only friend I've known in twenty years of loneliness, +Price. I've loved you like a brother," he panted, with a pause +between each word. + +Again the judge buried his face in his hands. + +"I know it, Solomon--I know it!" he moaned wretchedly. + +"Price, you are still a man to be reckoned with. There's the +boy; take your place for his sake and keep it--you can." + +"I will--by God, I will!" gasped the judge. "You hear me? You +hear me, Solomon? By God's good help, I will!" + +"You have the president's letter--I saw it " said Mahaffy in a +whisper. + +"Yes!" cried the judge. "Solomon, the world is changing for us!" + +"For me most of all," murmured Mahaffy, and there was a bleak +instant when the judge's ashen countenance held the full pathos +of age and failure. "Remember your oath, Price," gasped the +dying man. A moment of silence succeeded. Mahaffy's eyes +closed, then the heavy lids slid back. He looked up at the judge +while the harsh lines of his sour old face softened wonderfully. +"Kiss me, Price," he whispered, and as the judge bent to touch +him on the brow, the softened lines fixed themselves in death, +while on his lips lingered a smilc that was neither bitter nor +sneering. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +A CRISIS AT THE COURT-HOUSE + + +In that bare upper room they had shared, the judge, crushed and +broken, watched beside the bed on which the dead man lay; +unconscious of the flight of time he sat with his head bowed in +his hands, having scarcely altered his position since he begged +those who carried Mahaffy up the narrow stairs to leave him alone +with his friend. + +He was living over the past. He recalled his first meeting with +Mahaffy in the stuffy cabin of the small river packet from which +they had later gone ashore at Pleasantville; he thanked God that +it had been given him to see beneath Solomon's forbidding +exterior and into that starved heart! He reviewed each phase of +the almost insensible growth of their intimacy; he remembered +Mahaffy's fine true loyalty at the time of his arrest--he thought +of Damon and Pythias--Mahaffy had reached the heights of a +sublime devotion; he could only feel enobled that he had inspired +it. + +At last the dusk of twilight invaded the room. He lighted the +candles on the chimneypiece, then he resumed his seat and his +former attitude. Suddenly he became aware of a small hand that +was resting on his arm and glanced up; Hannibal had stolen +quietly into the room. The boy pointed to the still figure on +the bed. + +"Judge, what makes Mr. Mahaffy lie so quiet--is he dead?" he +asked in a whisper. + +"Yes, dear lad," began the judge in a shaking voice as he drew +Hannibal toward him, "your friend and mine is dead--we have lost +him." He lifted the boy into his lap, and Hannibal pressed a +tear-stained face against the judge's shoulder. "How did you get +here?" the judge questioned gently. + +"Uncle Bob fetched me," said Hannibal. "He's down-stairs, but he +didn't tell me Mr. Mahaffy was dead-" + +"We have sustained a great loss, Hannibal, and we must never +forget the moral grandeur of the man. Some day, when you are +older, and I can bring myself to speak of it, I will tell you of +his last moments." The judge's voice broke, a thick sob rose +chokingly in his throat. "Poor Solomon! A man of such tender +feeling that he hid it from the world, for his was a rare nature +which only revealed itself to the chosen few he honored with his +love." The judge lapsed into a momentary brooding silence, in +which his great arms drew the boy closer against his heart. +"Dear lad, since I left you at Belle Plain a very astonishing +knowledge has come to me. It was the Hand of Providence--I see +it now--that first brought us together. You must not call me +judge any more; I am your grandfather your mother was my +daughter." + +Hannibal instantly sat erect and looked up at the judge, his blue +eyes wide with amazement at this extraordinary statement. + +"It is a very strange story, Hannibal, and its links are not all +in my hands, but I am sure because of what I already know. I, +who thought that not a drop of my blood flowed in any veins but +my own, live again in you. Do you understand what I am telling +you? Your are my own dear little grandson--" and the judge +looked down with no uncertain love and pride into the small face +upturned to his. + +"I am glad if you are my grandfather, judge," said Hannibal very +gravely. "I always liked you." + +"Thank you, dear lad," responded the judge with equal gravity, +and then as Hannibal nestled back in his grandfather's arms a +single big tear dropped from the end of that gentleman's +prominent nose. + +"There will be many and great changes in store for us," continued +the judge. "But as we met adversity with dignity, I am sure we +shall be able to endure prosperity with equanimityonly unworthy +natures are affected by what is at best superficial and +accidental. I mean that the blight of poverty is about to be +lifted from our lives." + +"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?" +asked Hannibal. + +The judge regarded him with infinite tenderness of expression; he +was profoundly moved. + +"Would you mind saying that again, dear lad?" + +"Do you mean we ain't going to be pore any longer, grandfather?" +repeated Hannibal. + +"I shall enjoy an adequate competency which I am about to +recover. It will be sufficient for the indulgence of those +simple and intellectual tastes I propose to cultivate for the +future." In spite of himself the judge sighed. This was hardly +in line with his ideals, but the right to choose was no longer +his. "You will be very rich, Hannibal. The Quintard lands--your +grandmother was a Quintard--will be yours; they run up into the +hundred of thousand of acres here about; this land will all be +yours as soon as I can establish your identity." + +"Will Uncle Bob be rich too?" inquired Hannibal. + +"Certainly. How can he be poor when we possess wealth?" answered +the judge. + +"You reckon he will always live with us, don't you, grandfather?" + +"I would not have it otherwise. I admire Mr. Yancy--he is simple +and direct, and fit for any company under heaven except that of +fools. His treatment of you has placed me under everlasting +obligations; he shall share what we have. My one bitter, +unavailing regret is that Solomon Mahaffy will not be here to +partake of our altered fortunes." And the judge sighed deeply. + +"Uncle Bob told me Mr. Mahaffy got hurt in a duel, grandfather?" +said Hannibal. + +"He was as inexperienced as a child in the use of firearms, and +he had to deal with scoundrels who had neither mercy nor generous +feeling--but his courage was magnificent." + +Presently Hannibal was deep in his account of those adventures he +had shared with Miss Betty. + +"And Miss Malroy--where is she now?" asked the judge, in the +first pause of the boy's narrative. + +"She's at Mr. Bowen's house. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Cavendish +are here too. Mrs. Cavendish stayed down yonder at the Bates' +plantation. Grandfather, it were Captain Murrell who had me +stole--do you reckon he was going to take me back to Mr. Bladen?" + +"I will see Miss Malroy in the morning. We must combine--our +interests are identical. There should be hemp in this for more +than one scoundrel! I can see now how criminal my disinclination +to push myself to the front has been!" said the judge, with +conviction. "Never again will I shrink from what I know to be a +public duty." + +A little later they went down-stairs, where the judge had Yancy +make up a bed for himself and Hannibal on the floor. He would +watch alone beside Mahaffy, he was certain this would have been +the dead man's wish; then he said good night and mounted heavily +to the floor above to resume his vigil and his musings. + +Just at daybreak Yancy was roused by the pressure of a hand on +his shoulder, and opening his eyes saw that the judge was bending +over him. + +"Dress!" he said briefly. "There's every prospect of trouble +--get your rifle and come with me!" + +Yancy noted that this prospect of trouble seemed to afford the +judge a pleasurable sensation; indeed, he had quite lost his +former air of somber and suppressed melancholy. + +"I let you sleep, thinking you needed the rest," the judge went +on. "But ever since midnight we've been on the verge of riot and +possible bloodshed. They've arrested John Murrell--it's claimed +he's planned a servile rebellion! A man named Hues, who had +wormed his way into his confidence, made the arrest. He carried +Murrell into Memphis, but the local magistrate, intimidated, most +likely, declined to have anything to do with holding him. In +spite of this, Hues managed to get his prisoner lodged in jail, +but along about nightfall the situation began to look serious. +Folks were swarming into town armed to the teeth, and Hues +fetched Murrell across country to Raleigh--" + +"Yes?" said Yancy. + +"Well, the sheriff has refused to take Murrell into custody. +Hues has him down at the court-house, but whether or not he is +going to be able to hold him is another matter!" + +Yancy and Hannibal had dressed by this time, and the judge led +the way from the house. The Scratch Hiller looked about him. +Across the street a group of men, the greater number of whom were +armed, stood in front of Pegloe's tavern. Glancing in the +direction of the court-house, he observed that the square before +it held other groups. But what impressed him more was the +ominous silence that was everywhere. At his elbow the judge was +breathing deep. + +"We are face to face with a very deplorable condition, Mr. Yancy. +Court was to sit here to-day, but judge Morrow and the public +prosecutor have left town, and as you see, Murrell's friends have +gathered for a rescue. There's a sprinkling of the better +element--but only a sprinkling. I saw judge Morrow this morning +at four o'clock--I told him I would obligate myself to present +for his consideration evidence of a striking and sensational +character, evidence which would show conclusively that Murrell +should be held to await the action of the next grand jury--this +was after a conference with Hues--I guaranteed his safety. Sir, +the man refused to listen to me! He showed himself utterly +devoid of any feeling of public duty." The bitter sense of +failure and futility was leaving the judge. The situation made +its demands on that basic faith in his own powers which remained +imbedded in his character. + +They had entered the court-house square. 'On the steps of the +building Betts was arguing loudly with Hues, who stood in the +doorway, rifle in hand. + +"Maybe you don't know this is county property?" the sheriff was +saying. "And that you have taken unlawful possession of it for +an unlawful purpose? I am going to open them doors-a passel of +strangers can't keep folks out of a building their own money has +bought and paid for!" While he was speaking, the judge had +pushed his way through the crowd to the foot of the steps. + +"That was very nicely said, Mr. Betts," observed the judge. He +smiled widely and sweetly. The sheriff gave him a hostile glare. +"Do you know that Morrow has left town?" the judge went on. + +"I ain't got nothing to do with judge Morrow. It's my duty to +see that this building is ready for him when he's a mind to open +court in it" + +"You are willing to assume the responsibility of throwing open +these doors?" inquired the judge affably. + +"I shorely am," said Betts. "Why, some of these folks are our +leading people!" + +The judge turned to the crowd, and spoke in a tone of excessive +civility. "Just a word, gentlemen!--the sheriff is right; it is +your court-house and you should not be kept out of it. No doubt +there are some of you whose presence in this building will sooner +or later be urgently desired. We are going to let all who wish +to enter, but I beg you to remember that there will be five men +inside whose prejudices are all in favor of law and order." He +pushed past Hues and entered the court-house, followed by Yancy +and Hannibal. "We'll let 'em in where I can talk to 'em," he +said almost gaily. "Besides, they'll come in anyhow when they +get ready, so there's no sense in exciting them." + +In the court-house, Murrell, bound hand and foot, was seated +between Carrington and the Earl of Lambeth in the little +railed-off space below the judge's bench. Fear and suffering had +blanched his unshaven cheeks and given a wild light to his deeply +sunken eyes. At sight of Yancy a smothered exclamation broke +from his lips, he had supposed this man dead these many months! + +Hues had abandoned his post and the crowd, suddenly grown +clamorous, stormed the narrow entrance. One of the doors, borne +from its hinges, went down with a crash. The judge, a fierce +light flashing from his eyes, turned to Yancy. + +"No matter what happens, this fellow Murrell is not to escape--if +he calls on his friends to rescue him he is to be shot!" + +The hall was filling with swearing, struggling men, the floor +shook beneath their heavy tread; then they burst into the +court-room and saluted Murrell with a great shout. But Murrell, +bound, in rags, and silent, his lips frozen in a wolfish grin, +was a depressing sight, and the boldest felt something of his +unrestrained lawlessness go from him. + +Less noisy now, the crowd spread itself out among the benches or +swarmed up into the tiny gallery at the back of the building. +Man after man had hurried forward, intent on passing beyond the +railing, but each lead encountered the judge, formidable and +forbidding, and had turned aside. Gradually the many pairs of +eyes roving over the little group surrounding the outlaw focussed +themselves on Slocum Price. It was in unconscious recognition of +that moral force which was his, a tribute to the grim dignity of +his unshaken courage; what he would do seemed worth considering. + +He was charmed to hear his name pass in a whisper from lip to +lip. Well, it was time they knew him! He squared his ponderous +shoulders and made a gesture commanding silence. Battered, +shabby and debauched, he was like some old war horse who sniffs +the odor of battle that the wind incontinently brings to his +nostrils. + +"Don't let him speak!" cried a voice, and a tumult succeeded. + +Cool and indomitable the judge waited for it to subside. He saw +that the color was stealing back into Murrell's face. The outlaw +was feeling that he was a leader not overthrown, these were his +friends and followers, his safety was their safety too. In a +lull in the storm of sound the judge attempted to make himself +heard, but his words were lost in the angry roar that descended +on him. + +"Don't let him speak! Kill him! Kill him!" + +A score of men sprang to their feet and from all sides came the +click of rifle and pistol hammers as they were drawn to the full +cock. The judge's fate seemed to rest on a breath. He swung +about on his heel and gave a curt nod to Yancy and Cavendish, +who, falling back a step, tossed their guns to their shoulders +and covered Murrell. A sudden hush grew up out of the tumult; +the cries, angry and jeering, dwindled to a murmur, and a dead +pall of silence rested on the crowded room. + +The very taste of triumph was in the judge's mouth. Then came a +commotion at the back of the building, a whispered ripple of +comment, and Colonel Fentress elbowed his way through the crowd. +At sight of his enemy the judge's face went from white to red, +while his eyes blazed; but for the moment the force of his +emotions left him speechless. Here and there, as he advanced, +Fentress recognized a friend and bowed coolly to the right and +left. + +"What does this ridiculous mockery mean?" he demanded harshly. +"Mr. Sheriff, as a member of the bar, I protest! Why don't you +clear the building?" He did not wait for Betts to answer him, +but continued. "Where is this man Hues?" + +"Yonder, Colonel, by the captain," said Betts. + +"I have a warrant for his arrest. You will take him into +custody." + +"Wait!" cried the judge. "I represent Mr. Hues. I desire to see +that warrant!" + +But Fentress ignored him. He addressed the crowded benches. + +"Gentlemen, it is a serious matter forcibly to seize a man +without authority from the courts and expose him to the danger of +mob violence--Mr. Hues will learn this before we have done with +him." + +Instantly there was a noisy demonstration that swelled into a +burst of applause, which quickly spent itself. The struggle +seemed to have narrowed to an individual, contest for supremacy +between Fentress and the judge. On the edge of the railed off +space they confronted each other: the colonel, a tall, +well-cared-for presence; the judge shabby and unkempt. For a +moment their eyes met, while the judge's face purpled and paled, +and purpled again. The silence deepened. Fentress' thin lips +opened, twitched, but no sound came from them; then his glance +wavered and fell. He turned away. + +"Mr. Sheriff!" he called sharply. + +"All right, Colonel!" + +"Take your man into custody," ordered Fentress. As he spoke he +handed the warrant to Betts, who looked at it, grinned, and +stepped toward Hues. He would have pushed the judge aside had +not that gentleman, bowing civilly, made way for him. + +"In my profound respect for the law and properly constituted +authority I yield to no man, not even to Colonel Fentress," he +said, with a gracious gesture. "I would not place the slightest +obstacle in the way of its sanctioned manifestation. Colonel +Fentress comes here with that high sanction." He bowed again +ceremoniously to the colonel. "I repeat, I respect his +dependence upon the law!" He whirled suddenly. + +Cavendish--Yancy--Carrington--I call upon you to arrest John +Murrell! I do this by virtue of the authority vested in me as a +judge of the United States Federal Court. His crime--a mere +trifle, my friends--passing counterfeit money! Colonel Fentress +will inform you that this is a violation of the law which falls +within my jurisdiction," and he beamed blandly on Fentress. + +"It's a lie!" cried the colonel. + +"You'll answer for that later!" said the judge, with abrupt +austerity of tone. + +"For all we know you may be some fugitive from justice! Why, +your name isn't Price!" + +"Are you sure of that?" asked the judge quickly. + +"You're an impostor! Your name is Turberville!" + +"Permit me to relieve your apprehensions. It is Turberville who +has received the appointment. Would you like to examine my +credentials?--I have them by me--no? I am obliged for your +introduction. It could not have come at a more timely moment!" +The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress contemptuously. Once more +he faced the packed benches. "Put down your weapons!" he +commanded. "This man Murrell will not be released. At the first +effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits--we have sworn it +--his plotting is at an end." He stalked nearer the benches. +"Not one chance in a thousand remains to him. Either he dies +here or he lives to betaken before every judge in the state, if +necessary, until we find one with courage to try him! Make no +mistake--it will best conserve the ends of justice to allow the +state court's jurisdiction in this case; and I pledge myself to +furnish evidence which will start him well on his road to the +gallows!" The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still nearer +the benches. Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the +part he was being called upon to play flowed through him like +some elixir; he felt that he was transcending himself, that his +inspiration was drawn from the hidden springs of the spirit, and +that he could neither falter nor go astray. "You don't know what +you are meddling with! This man has plotted to lay the South in +ruins--he has been arming the negroes--it--it is incredible that +you should all know this--to such I say, go home and thank God +for your escape! For the others"--his shaggy brows met in a +menacing frown--"if they force our hand we will toss them John +Murrell's dead carcass--that's our answer to their challenge!" + +He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they +still covered him. He was thinking of Mahaffy--Mahaffy, who had +said he was still a man to be reckoned with. For the comfort of +his own soul he was proving it. + +"Do you know what a servile insurrection means?--you men who have +wives and daughters, have you thought of their fate? Of the +monstrous savagery to which they would be exposed? Do you +believe he could limit and control it? Look at him! Why, he has +never had a consideration outside of his own safety, and yet he +expects you to risk your necks to save his! He would have left +the state before the first blow was struck--his business was all +down river--but we are going to keep him here to answer for his +crimes! The law, as implacable as it is impartial, has put its +mark on him--the shadow in which he sits is the shadow of the +gallows!" + +The judge paused, but the only sound in that expectant silence +was the heavy breathing of men. He drew his unwieldy form erect, +while his voice rumbled on, aggressive and threatening in its +every intonation. + +"You are here to defend something that no longer exists. Your +organization is wrecked, your signals and passwords are known, +your secrets have become public property--I can even produce a +list of your members; there are none of you who do not stand in +imminent peril--yet understand, I have no wish to strike at those +who have been misled or coerced into joining Murrell's band!" +The judge's sodden old face glowed now with the magnanimity of +his sentiments. "But I have no feeling of mercy for your +leaders, none for Murrell himself. Put down your guns!--you can +only kill us after we have killed Murrell--but you can't kill the +law! If the arch conspirator dies in this room and hour, on +whose head will the punishment fall?" He swung round his +ponderous arm in a sweeping gesture and shook a fat but +expressive forefinger in the faces of those nearest him. "On +yours--and yours--and yours!" + +Across the space that separated them the judge grinned his +triumph at his enemy. He had known when Fentress entered the +room that a word or a sign from him would precipitate a riot, but +he knew now that neither this word nor this sign would be given. +Then quite suddenly he strode down the aisle, and foot by foot +Fentress yielded ground before his advance. A murderous light +flashed from the judge's bloodshot eyes and his right hand was +stealing toward the frayed tails of his coat. + +"Look out--he's getting ready to shoot!" cried a frightened +voice. + +Instantly by doors and windows the crowd, seized with +inexplicable panic, emptied itself into the courthouse yard. +Fentress was caught up in the rush and borne from the room and +from the building. When he reached the graveled space below the +steps he turned. The judge was in the doorway, the center of a +struggling group; Mr. Bowen, the minister, Mr. Saul and Mr. +Wesley were vainly seeking to pinion his arm. + +"Draw--damn you!" he roared at Fentress, as he wrenched himself +free, and the crowd swayed to right and left as Fentress was seen +to reach for his pistol. + +Mr. Saul made a last frantic effort to restrain his friend; he +seized the judge's arm just as the latter's finger pressed the +trigger, and an instant later Fentress staggered back with the +judge's bullet in his shoulder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE END AND THE BEGINNING + + +It was not strange that a number of gentlemen in and about +Raleigh yielded to an overmastering impulse to visit newer lands, +nor was it strange that the initial steps looking toward the +indulgence of their desires should have been taken in secrecy. +Mr. Pegloe was one of the first to leave; Mr. Saul had informed +him of the judge's declared purpose of shooting him on sight. +Even without this useful hint the tavern-keeper had known that he +should experience intense embarrassment in meeting the judge; +this was now a dreary certainty. + +"You reckon he means near all he says?" he had asked, his fat +sides shaking. + +"I'd take his word a heap quicker than I would most folks," +answered Mr. Saul with conviction. + +Pegloe promptly had a sinking spell. He recalled the snuffing of +the candles by the judge, an extremely depressing memory under +the circumstances, also the reckless and headlong disregard of +consequences which had characterized so many of that gentleman's +acts, and his plans shaped themselves accordingly, with this +result: that when the judge took occasion to call at the tavern, +and the hostile nature of his visit was emphasized by the +cautious manner of his approach, he was greatly shocked to +discover that his intended victim had sold his business overnight +for a small lump sum to Mr. Saul's brother-in-law, who had +appeared most opportunely with an offer. + +Pegloe's flight created something of a sensation, but it was +dwarfed by the sensation that developed a day or so later when it +became known that Tom Ware and Colonel Fentress had likewise fled +the country. Still later, Fentress' body, showing marks of +violence, was washed ashore at a wood-yard below Girard. It was +conjectured that he and Ware had set out from The Oaks to cross +the river; there was reason to believe that Fentress had in his +possession at the time a considerable sum of money, and it was +supposed that his companion had murdered and robbed him. Of +Ware's subsequent career nothing was ever known. + +These were, after all, only episodes in the collapse of the Clan, +sporific manifestations of the great work of disintegration that +was going forward and which the judge, more than any other, +perhaps, had brought about. This was something no one +questioned, and he quickly passed to the first phase of that +unique and peculiar esteem in which he was ever after held. His +fame widened with the succeeding suns; he had offers of help +which impressed him as so entirely creditable to human nature +that he quite lacked the heart to refuse them, especially as he +felt that in the improvement of his own condition the world had +bettered itself and was moving nearer those sound and righteous +ideals of morality and patriotism which had never lacked his +indorsement, no matter how inexpedient it had seemed for him to +put them into practice. But he was not diverted from his +ultimate purpose by the glamour of a present popularity; he was +able to keep his bleared eyes resolutely fixed on the main +chance, namely the Fentress estate and the Quintard lands. It +was highly important that he should go east to South Carolina to +secure documentary evidence that would establish his own and +Fentress' identity, to Kentucky, where Fentress had lived prior +to his coming to Tennessee. + +Early in November the judge set out by stage on his journey east; +he was accompanied by Yancy and Hannibal, from neither of whom +could he bring himself to be separated; and as the woods, flaming +now with the touch of frost, engulfed the little town, he turned +in his seat and looked back. He had entered it by that very +road, a beggar on foot and in rags; he was leaving it in +broadcloth and fine linen, visible tokens of his altered +fortunes. More than this, he could thrust his hands deep down +into his once empty pockets and hear the clink of gold and +silver. The judge slowly withdrew his eyes from the last gray +roof that showed among the trees, and faced the east and the +future with a serenely confident expression. + +Betty Malroy and Carrington had ridden into Raleigh to take leave +of their friends. They had watched the stage from sight, had +answered the last majestic salute the judge had given them across +the swaying top of the coach before the first turn of the road +hid it from sight, and then they had turned their horses' heads +in the direction of Belle Plain. + +"Bruce, do you think judge Price will ever be able to accomplish +all he hopes to?" Betty asked when they had left the town +behind. She drew in her horse as she spoke, and they went +forward at a walk under the splendid arch of the forest and over +a carpet of vivid leaves. + +"I reckon he will, Betty," responded Carrington. Unfavorable as +had been his original estimate of the judge's character, events +had greatly modified it. + +"He really seems quite sure, doesn't he?" said Betty. + +"There's not a doubt in his mind," agreed Carrington. + +He was still at Belle Plain, living in what had been Ware's +office, while the Cavendishes were domiciled at the big house. +He had arranged with the judge to crop a part of that hopeful +gentleman's land the very next season; the fact that a lawsuit +intervened between the judge and possession seemed a trifling +matter, for Carrington had become infected with the judge's point +of view, which did not admit of the possibility of failure; but +he had not yet told Betty of his plans. Time enough for that +when he left Belle Plain. + +His silence concerning the future had caused Betty much thought. +She wondered if he still intended going south into the Purchase; +she was not sure but it was the dignified thing for him to do. +She was thinking of this now as they went forward over the +rustling leaves, and at length she turned in the saddle and faced +him. + +"I am going to miss Hannibal dreadfully--yes, and the judge, and +Mr. Yancy!" she began. + +"And when I leave--how about me, Betty?" Carrington asked +unexpectedly, but he only had in mind leaving Belle Plain. + +A little sigh escaped Betty's red lips, for she was thinking of +the Purchase, which lay far down the river, many, many miles +distant. The sigh was ever so little, but Carrington had heard +it. + +"I am to be missed, too, am I, Betty?" he inquired, leaning +toward her. + +"You, Bruce?--Oh, I shall miss you, too--dreadfully--but then, +perhaps in five years, when you come back--" + +"Five years!" cried Carrington, but he understood, something of +what was passing in her mind, and laughed shortly. "Five years, +Betty?" he repeated, dwelling on the numeral. + +Betty hesitated and looked thoughtful. Presently she stole a +surreptitious glance at Carrington from under her long lashes, +and went on slowly, as though she were making careful choice of +her words. + +"When you come back in three years, Bruce--" + +Carrington still regarded her fixedly. There was a light in his +black eyes that seemed to penetrate to the most secret recesses +of her heart and soul. + +"Three years, Betty?" he repeated again. + +Betty, her eyes cast down, twisted her rein nervously between her +slim, white fingers, but Carrington's steady glance never left +her sweet face, framed by its halo of bright hair. She stole +another look at him from beneath her dark lashes. + +"Three years, Betty?" he prompted. + +"Bruce, don't stare at me that way, it makes me forget what I was +going to say! When you come, back--next year--" and then she +lifted her eyes to his and he saw that they were full of sudden +tears. "Bruce, don't go away--don't go away at all--" + +Carrington slipped from the saddle and stood at her side. + +"Do you mean that, Betty?" he asked. He took her hands loosely +in his and relentlessly considered her crimsoned face. "I reckon +it will always be right hard to refuse you anything--here is one +settler the Purchase will never get!" and he laughed softly. + +"It was the Purchase--you were going there!" she cried. + +"No, I wasn't, Betty; that notion died its natural death long +ago. When we are sure you will be safe at Belle Plain with just +the Cavendishes, I am going into Raleigh to wait as best I can +until spring." He spoke so gravely, that she asked in quick +alarm. + +"And then, Bruce--what?" + +"And then--Oh, Betty, I'm starving--" All in a moment he lifted +her slender figure in his arms, gathering her close to him. "And +then, this--and this--and this, sweetheart--and more--and--oh, +Betty! Betty!" + +When Murrell was brought to trial his lawyers were able to +produce a host of witnesses whose sworn testimony showed that so +simple a thing as perjury had no terrors for them. His fight for +liberty was waged in and out of court with incredible bitterness, +and, as judge and jury were only human, the outlaw escaped with +the relatively light sentence of twelve years' imprisonment; he +died, however, before the expiration of his term. + +The judge, where he returned to Raleigh, resumed his own name of +Turberville, and he allowed it to be known that he would not be +offended by the prefix of General. During his absence he had +accumulated a wealth of evidence of undoubted authenticity, with +the result that his claim against the Fentress estate was +sustained by the courts, and when The Oaks with its stock and +slaves was offered for sale, he, as the principal creditor, was +able to buy it in. + +One of his first acts after taking possession of the property was +to have Mahaffy reinterred in the grove of oaks below his bedroom +windows, and he marked the spot with a great square of granite. +The judge, visibly shaken by his emotions, saw the massive +boulder go into place. + +"Harsh and rugged like the nature of him who lies beneath it--but +enduring, too, as he was," he murmured. He turned to Yancy and +Hannibal, and added + +"You will lay me beside him when I die." + +Then when the bitter struggle came and he was wrenched and +tortured by longings, his strength was in remembering his promise +to the dead man, and it was his custom to go out under the oaks +and pace to and fro beside Mahaffy's grave until he had gained +the mastery of himself. Only Yancy and Hannibal knew how fierce +the conflict was he waged, yet in the end he won that best earned +of all victories, the victory over himself. + +"My salvation has been a costly thing; it was bought with the +blood of my friend," he told Yancy. + +It was Hannibal's privilege to give Cavendish out of the vast +Quintard tract such a farm as the earl had never dreamed of +owning even in his most fervid moments of imagining; and he +abandoned all idea of going to England to claim his title. At +the judge's suggestion he named the place Earl's Court. He and +Polly were entirely satisfied with their surroundings, and never +ceased to congratulate themselves that they had left Lincoln +County. They felt that their friends the Carringtons at Belle +Plain, though untitled people, were still of an equal rank with +themselves; while as for the judge, they doubted if royalty +itself laid it any over him. + +Mr. Yancy accepted his changed fortunes with philosophic +composure. Technically he filled the position of overseer at The +Oaks, but the judge's activity was so great that this position +was largely a sinecure. The most arduous work he performed was +spending his wages. + +Certain trifling peculiarities survived with the judge even after +he had entered what he had once been prone to call the Portal of +Hope; for while his charity was very great and he lived with the +splendid air of plenty that belonged to an older order, it +required tact, patience, and persistence to transact business +with him; and his creditors, of whom there were always a +respectable number, discovered that he esteemed them as they were +aggressive and determined. He explained to Yancy that too great +certainty detracted from the charm of living, for, after all, +life was a game--a gamble--he desired to be reminded of this. +Yet he was held in great respect for his wisdom and learning, +which was no more questioned that his courage. + +Thus surrounded by his friends, who were devoted to him, he began +Hannibal's education and the preparation of his memoirs, intended +primarily for the instruction of his grandson, and which he +modestly decided to call The History of My Own Times, which +clearly showed the magnificence of his mind and its outlook. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE PRODIGAL JUDGE *** + +This file should be named proju10.txt or proju10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, proju11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, proju10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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