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Produced by Al Haines. | |
[Illustration: Cover] | |
[Illustration: "I'LL TRY MY BEST," REPLIED JACK, TAKING UP HIS KIT OF | |
TOOLS.] | |
A Young | |
Inventor's Pluck | |
OR | |
THE MYSTERY OF THE | |
WILLINGTON LEGACY | |
BY | |
Arthur M. Winfield, | |
Author of "THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL," | |
"THE MISSING TIN BOX," "SCHOOLDAYS OF | |
FRED HARLEY," etc. | |
NEW YORK -- AKRON, O. -- CHICAGO | |
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. | |
1901 | |
COPYRIGHT, 1901, | |
BY | |
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. | |
INTRODUCTION | |
_My Dear Boys and Girls:_-- | |
"A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK" relates the adventures of a wide-awake | |
American lad of a mechanical turn of mind, who suddenly finds himself | |
thrown upon his own resources and compelled to support not only himself, | |
but likewise his sister. | |
Jack Willington's path is no easy one to tread. The bank in which the | |
sister and brother have their little store of money deposited fails, and | |
with this comes the shutting down of the tool works in which our hero is | |
employed. To add to the lad's troubles, there is a large fire in the | |
town and the youth is accused of incendiarism. | |
But Jack and his sister Deb are not without friends, and the fact that | |
the boy is an inventor and has almost ready the model of a useful and | |
valuable invention, aids him to secure his release, and then he goes | |
forth to run down his enemies and to solve the mystery connected with a | |
rich family legacy. | |
Generally speaking, life in a factory town is thought to be dull and | |
monotonous, whereas the truth is, that it is usually full of interest | |
and not devoid of excitement of a peculiar kind. In this tale I have | |
tried to picture life in such a place truthfully, with all of its lights | |
and its shadows, and I hope that my story will prove more or less | |
instructive in consequence. | |
Affectionately your friend, | |
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD. | |
CONTENTS | |
CHAPTER I. | |
THE SHUT DOWN | |
CHAPTER II. | |
FOR THE SAKE OF HOME | |
CHAPTER III. | |
A RESULT OF A FIRE | |
CHAPTER IV. | |
BAD NEWS FOR DEB | |
CHAPTER V. | |
FINDING BAIL | |
CHAPTER VI. | |
HOME ONCE MORE | |
CHAPTER VII. | |
INTO THE RIVER | |
CHAPTER VIII. | |
SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL | |
CHAPTER IX. | |
MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE | |
CHAPTER X. | |
DRIVEN FROM HOME | |
CHAPTER XI. | |
ON THE RIVER ROAD | |
CHAPTER XII. | |
JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION | |
CHAPTER XIII. | |
OVER THE FALLS | |
CHAPTER XIV. | |
MAX POOLER'S MEG | |
CHAPTER XV. | |
THE MISER OF THE ISLAND | |
CHAPTER XVI. | |
ON BOARD THE "KITTY" | |
CHAPTER XVII. | |
MEG TO THE RESCUE | |
CHAPTER XVIII. | |
DEB AT THE MILL | |
CHAPTER XIX. | |
IN CORRIGAN'S POWER | |
CHAPTER XX. | |
MONT TELLS HIS STORY | |
CHAPTER XXI. | |
CORRIGAN MAKES A MOVE | |
CHAPTER XXII. | |
HEAPS OF MONEY | |
CHAPTER XXIII. | |
THE MISER'S TREASURE | |
CHAPTER XXIV. | |
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST | |
CHAPTER XXV. | |
CHASING ANDY MOSEY | |
CHAPTER XXVI. | |
PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE | |
CHAPTER XXVII. | |
"LOVE YOUR ENEMIES"--CONCLUSION | |
ILLUSTRATIONS. | |
"I'll try my best," replied Jack taking up his kit of tools . . . | |
Frontispiece | |
"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, hardly looking up | |
Jack was soon as busy as a bee, putting the machines in running order | |
and overhauling other farming implements | |
"Been tellin' sthories about me!" he exclaimed. "Sayin' I sthole yer | |
match-box an' set foire to old gray's house! Oi'll fix ye!" | |
With a quick spring he gave the young man a push that sent him spinning | |
over backward | |
The body came within his reach, and leaning over, he stayed its progress | |
"Did you really go over them falls?" she continued, jerking her thumb in | |
the direction | |
The miser of the island had lost his balance, and after vainly clutching | |
the air to save himself, had floundered into the water and mud below | |
"I mean just this," replied Corrigan, catching her by the arm, "you are | |
my prisoner and must do as I say" | |
With a strong push of his powerful arm, he sent the man flying into a | |
corner | |
A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK | |
CHAPTER I. | |
THE SHUT DOWN | |
"Oh Jack! how blue you look!" | |
"I feel blue, Deb," answered Jack Willington, as he entered the door of | |
his modest home and gave his sister the brotherly kiss he knew she was | |
expecting. | |
"Is there something the matter up at the tool works, Jack?" | |
"Yes, Deb. The works are going to shut down." | |
"To shut down?" repeated the girl, her eyes wide open in affright, for | |
she knew only too well what such a calamity meant. "When will they | |
close?" | |
"To-morrow. In fact we have quit on the regular work already." | |
"And how long will the shut-down last?" | |
"Nobody knows. I asked Mr. Johnson--he's the foreman, you know--and he | |
said he thought a month or six weeks, but he wasn't sure." | |
"A month! Oh, Jack, it's an awfully long time!" | |
And Deb Willington's face grew very grave. | |
"I know it is--longer than I care to remain idle, even if I could afford | |
to, which I can't. But that's not the worst of it." | |
"No?" | |
"No; they didn't pay us for the last two weeks' work." | |
"Why not?" | |
"Johnson said that they wanted to pay off every man in full, and that | |
the figuring would take several days." | |
"And you won't get any money till then?" | |
"Not a cent. My private opinion is that the company is in some sort of | |
a financial difficulty, and only want to gain time. Mont didn't have a | |
word to say about it when I asked him, and, I imagine he knows a good | |
deal about his uncle's affairs." | |
Deb cast down her eyes in a meditative way. | |
"To-morrow is rent day," she said, after a pause. | |
"I know it. I've been thinking of it all the way home. How much have | |
we got toward paying the six dollars?" | |
"Three dollars and a half." And Deb brought forth the amount from her | |
small purse. | |
"Humph! I don't see what's to be done," mused Jack, as he removed his | |
hat and sat down. "Mr. Hammerby will have to wait for his money." | |
"Will he?" | |
"I don't see what else he can do. But, aside from that, three dollars | |
and a half won't keep us a month. I'll have to look elsewhere for | |
work." | |
Deborah and John Willington were orphans. Their father had died some ten | |
years before. He had been a strong, industrious and ingenious | |
machinist, of a quiet nature, and at his demise left his wife and two | |
children with a small property, which, however, was subject to a | |
mortgage of several hundred dollars. | |
His widow found it no easy matter to get along. Jack was but seven years | |
of age and Deb five, and, of course, could do little or nothing, except | |
occasionally to "help mamma." | |
Mrs. Willington in her reduced circumstances had taken in sewing, and | |
also opened a school for little children, and by these means had earned | |
a scanty living for her family. | |
But it was not long before the strain began to tell upon the brave | |
woman. She was naturally delicate, and grew weaker slowly but surely, | |
until, eight years later, she quietly let slip the garment she was | |
making, folded her hands, and peacefully went to join her husband in the | |
Great Beyond. | |
Deb and Jack were terribly startled when the sad event occurred. They | |
were utterly alone in the world. It was true that there were distant | |
relatives upon their mother's side, but they had always been too proud | |
to notice the Willington family, and now made no attempt to help the | |
orphans. | |
Shortly after the mother's funeral, the mortgage on the homestead fell | |
due, and as it could not be met, the place went under the auctioneer's | |
hammer. | |
Realty in Corney, as the factory town was called, was not booming at the | |
time, and, as a consequence, when all the costs were paid, only one | |
hundred dollars and the furniture remained as a start in life for the | |
two children. | |
They had no home, no place to go. What was to be done? | |
A kind neighbor spoke of adopting Deb, and another obtained for Jack a | |
job in the Tool Company's works. | |
But the two would not separate. When Jack mentioned it, Deb sobbed and | |
clung to him, until he declared that she should remain with him no | |
matter what happened. | |
At this time Jack earned eight dollars a week, and had the prospect of a | |
raise. With this amount they rented three rooms for six dollars a | |
month, and Deb, young as she was, took upon herself the important duties | |
of housekeeping. | |
Things moved crudely at first, but it was so nice to be together, to | |
work for one another, that, excepting for their recent bereavement, | |
which still hung as a heavy cloud over their lives, they lived as | |
happily as "two bugs in a rug." | |
Jack thought the world of his sister Deb. He was a rather silent | |
fellow, with a practical turn of mind, not given overmuch to fun making, | |
and his sister's bright and cheerful way was just what was needed to | |
lift his mind out of the drudge-rut into which it was wont to run. | |
He spent all his evenings in her company, either at home or, when the | |
weather was fine, in strolling around Corney, or in attendance upon some | |
entertainment that did not cost much money, and which gave Deb keen | |
enjoyment. Sometimes, when he got the chance, he would do odd jobs at | |
his bench on the sly, and then, with the extra money thus earned, would | |
surprise Deb by buying her something which he knew she desired, but | |
which their regular means would not afford. | |
Jack was now earning twelve dollars a week and they lived much more | |
comfortably than before. During the past three years they had saved | |
quite a neat sum, but a month of severe illness for Deb had now reduced | |
them to their original capital of one hundred dollars, which was | |
deposited in the Mechanics' Savings Bank of Corney--a sum that both had | |
decided should not be touched unless it became absolutely necessary. | |
Young as he was, Jack understood the machinist's trade thoroughly. He | |
took a lively interest in his work, and the doing of jobs on his own | |
account had led him to erect a small workbench at home. | |
Here he often experimented upon various improvements in machinery, | |
hoping at some time to invent that which might bring him in a | |
substantial return. | |
One of his models--a planing machine attachment--was nearly completed, | |
and this had been considerably praised by Mr. Benton, a shrewd | |
speculator in inventions of various kinds. | |
"I'm afraid we'll have to draw part of that hundred dollars from the | |
bank," observed Jack as the two were eating the neat supper Deb had | |
prepared. "I hate to do it, but I don't see any way out of it." | |
"It does seem a shame, after we've kept it so long," returned his | |
sister. "But do as you think best. Only, Jack, dear, please don't | |
worry. It will all come out right in the end." | |
Her brother had laid down his knife and fork and was resting his chin on | |
his hand in deep meditation. | |
"You're right, Deb," he exclaimed starting up, "and I ought to be | |
thankful for what we have got, especially for having such a good little | |
sister to ease things up." | |
"Say, Jack," suddenly began Deb, struck with an idea, "you are so handy | |
with the tools, why don't you open a little shop of your own? Wouldn't | |
it pay?" | |
Jack's face brightened more than it had for many a day. | |
"I'm glad you said that," he replied. "I've often thought of it. But I | |
hated to give up a certainty like my wages for----" | |
"Yes, but now----" began Deb. | |
"One misfortune gives me a chance to tempt another." He gave a sorry | |
little laugh. "Is that what you mean?" | |
"You'll get along--never fear." | |
"There ought to be a chance, true enough. I could sharpen tools, repair | |
lawn mowers and bicycles, and mend all sorts of things. There is no | |
such shop in Corney as yet, and it ought to pay." | |
"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb, with great interest. | |
"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into shape to do small | |
work. I have most of the tools, and would only need a lathe and one or | |
two other things--that I could get second-hand." | |
"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's conclusion; "to-morrow | |
morning, go down to the bank and draw out seventy-five dollars. Then | |
we'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and try your luck." | |
"Yes, but----" | |
"No buts, Jack; I'm willing to put up with whatever comes--bad luck as | |
well as good. I'm sure you'll succeed." | |
"If your good wishes count for anything, I certainly shall," exclaimed | |
Jack, earnestly. "I think I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month, | |
or, maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with living rooms | |
attached, which would be cheaper than hiring two places." | |
"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't have to go so far for | |
dinner, and I could attend to customers while you were away." | |
The pair talked in this strain for over an hour. His sister's sanguine | |
way of looking at the matter made the young machinist feel as if perhaps | |
the shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and might prove the | |
turning point to something better than they had ever before known. | |
The next morning, for the first time in several years, Jack had | |
breakfast late. It was soon over, and then he put on his good clothes | |
and started for the bank. | |
The streets were thronged with idle men. The Corney Tool Company | |
employed nearly a thousand persons--in fact, it was by far the principal | |
factory in the place--and to have all these employes thrown out of work | |
was a calamity discussed by everyone. | |
The Mechanics' Savings Bank had been organized by Mr. Felix Gray, the | |
owner of the tool works, who presided over both places. He was a man of | |
fifty, with an unusually sharp and irritable disposition. | |
As Jack approached the bank he noticed a large crowd collected in and | |
around the building. | |
"I suppose, as they can't get their pay, they want to withdraw some of | |
their savings," was his thought as he drew nearer. | |
An instant later a queer cry came from the interior of the bank, and it | |
was quickly taken up by those outside. | |
"What is it?" asked the young machinist, of a bystander. | |
"They've suspended payment," was the short reply. | |
"What!" gasped Jack, in horror. "You don't mean it?" | |
But at the same time the crowd cried out loudly, in angry tones: | |
"The bank's burst! She's gone up for good! No money for the poor man! | |
We can all starve!" | |
CHAPTER II. | |
FOR THE SAKE OF HOME | |
"Can this be possible? Has the bank really burst?" | |
Over and over Jack asked himself the question. Then the words of the | |
crowd echoed and re-echoed through his ears. Yes, the bank had | |
suspended payment. There was no money for him--no money for anyone! | |
"It's too bad!" he groaned. "What will Deb say?" | |
The thought of his sister gave him another pang. Without money and | |
without work, how could he continue to take care of her? | |
"Oh! Jack, me b'y, not wan pinny av me two hundred dollars will they | |
give me at all," exclaimed Andy Mosey, a fellow-workman, bitterly. | |
"How did it happen?" asked the young machinist. | |
"No wan knows. Oi guess old Gray is in a toight hole, an' is usin' the | |
bank's money to get him out." | |
Andy Mosey was a heavy-set Irishman, with a bloated, red face and fiery | |
hair and beard. His work brought him into daily contact with the young | |
machinist, but Jack did not like the man, first on account of his | |
drinking habit, and secondly, because he suspected the Irishman of | |
having stolen from the pocket of his jumper a silver match safe--a | |
highly-valued Willington heirloom. | |
"It's a bad business, and no mistake." | |
The speaker was Dennis Corrigan, a pattern maker. He was a | |
brother-in-law to Mosey, but much more educated, and somewhat refined in | |
appearance as well. | |
"Yes, indeed," returned Jack. | |
"How do they expect us to live if they don't pay us our wages or let us | |
draw our savings either?" | |
"Old Gray will pay dearly fer this," put in Andy Mosey, with a wicked | |
look in his eye; "oi'll vow he'll be moighty sorry for this day's worruk | |
ere long." | |
Jack elbowed his way up the bank steps and into the building. The | |
cashier's window was closed, and behind the glass this notice was pasted | |
up: | |
"_Depositors are hereby notified that owing to the unexpected run upon | |
this bank, no further payments will be made until the more available | |
assets are converted into cash._" | |
The crowd were all talking loudly and excitedly, and Jack tried in vain | |
to obtain definite information concerning the cause for the suspension. | |
At length, sick at heart, he returned to the sidewalk, where Andy Mosey, | |
the worse for several glasses of liquor, again addressed him. | |
"Not wan pinny av me two hundred dollars, Jack, me b'y!" he repeated in | |
a heavy voice; "an' they call it a free counthry! Sure it's only free | |
fer rich people to rob the poor!" | |
"It's rough," replied Jack. | |
"Old Gray will pay dearly fer it, mark me wurruds!" | |
"What will you do?" | |
"Never moind, Jack, me b'y! Thrust Andy Mosey to get square wid the | |
ould villian!" | |
Jack retraced his steps homeward with slow and unwilling steps. All his | |
bright hopes of the past hour had been dashed to naught. No money meant | |
no start in business, and with a thousand men idle what chances were | |
there of finding employment? | |
"If I had a few dollars in my pocket I might try some other town," he | |
thought. "But without some money, it's hard lines, sure enough." | |
Jack would not have felt it so much had he been alone, but with Deb | |
depending upon him, his responsibility seemed more than doubled. | |
Their home was on the second floor of a large apartment house standing | |
upon one of the side streets of Corney. As Jack ascended the stairs he | |
heard talking in the kitchen. | |
"Wonder who is here? Visitors of some kind," he thought. | |
Entering, the young machinist found Mr. Hammerby, the house-agent, in | |
earnest conversation with Deb. | |
Mr. Hammerby was a short, dapper business man, small in form, and a | |
person of few words. | |
"Yes, I never allow a rent day to go by," he was saying. "People who | |
hire from me must expect to pay promptly." | |
"But sometimes people fall ill, and get behind----" began Deb. | |
"True, but that's not my fault, and I never--ah, here is your brother at | |
last. Good morning, Mr. Willington." | |
"Good morning, Mr. Hammerby," returned Jack, soberly, and with a sinking | |
heart. "You came for the rent, I suppose." | |
"Yes, sir, always prompt, you know," replied the agent, rubbing his | |
hands together. | |
"I told him you had just gone to get the money," put in Deb. | |
"I--I'm sorry, but I can't pay you today," said Jack, as calmly as he | |
could, but with a worried glance at his sister. | |
"Oh, Jack, what has happened?" burst out Deb, growing pale. | |
"The bank has stopped payment." | |
"And you expected to get your money from that place?" asked Mr. | |
Hammerby. | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Your sister told me you had gone out for it, but did not tell me | |
where." | |
"Can't you get any money, Jack?" asked Deb, catching his arm. | |
"Not a cent." | |
The tears started in the girl's eyes. Here was indeed a blow. | |
"Well, I'm sorry, but I must have the rent," said Mr. Hammerby, firmly. | |
"I can't pay it," replied Jack. "If I had the money, nothing would | |
please me more. But I haven't got any pay for the past two weeks' work, | |
and I have but three dollars and a half, and that we must keep for | |
living purposes." | |
"Humph! When do you propose to pay?" | |
"In a few days. Just as soon as I get my money from the factory." | |
"That won't suit me. If I don't have my money by to-night I'll serve | |
you a three-days' notice to quit." | |
It may seem strange that Mr. Hammerby should be so hard upon his | |
tenants, but the truth was, he understood more of the factory and the | |
bank affairs than was generally known. | |
He was well aware that it would be a long time before cash could be had | |
at either place. | |
"But surely you wouldn't turn us out for being behind just this once!" | |
exclaimed Jack. "We have paid promptly for three years." | |
"I can't make any allowance. It's pay or leave. I might have got more | |
than you pay for these rooms, but I let you have them at a low figure | |
because I thought you would be prompt." | |
"But Mr. Gray owns this building," put in Deb, eagerly; "surely he will | |
not allow his own workmen, to whom money is due, to be put out." | |
"He doesn't bother his head about it," returned Mr. Hammerby, with | |
assumed dignity. "He expects me to obey orders, and those orders are to | |
collect or give notice." | |
"Well, I haven't the money," repeated Jack. | |
"I'll step in in the morning," went on the agent, "and then it's money | |
or notice. Good day." | |
And without further words Mr. Hammerby left the apartment. The minute | |
the door was closed Deb burst into tears. | |
"They will set us into the street!" she sobbed. "Was ever a person so | |
cruel before! Oh, Jack, what shall we do? What shall we do?" | |
Jack sank into a chair without replying. His mind was busy trying to | |
devise some means of averting the blow that appeared so imminent. Though | |
it cut him to the heart to see his sister so distressed, he could offer | |
her no comforting hope. | |
"I'm going up to see Mr. Gray," he said, finally, "I'll tell him just | |
how the matter stands. I don't believe if he knew the particulars that | |
he would let Mr. Hammerby put us out." | |
"If he did he'd be the hardest-hearted man in Corney," declared Deb, | |
between her sobs. | |
For Jack to think, was to act, and in a few seconds he was ready to | |
depart. | |
"Shall I go along?" asked his sister, hesitatingly. | |
"I guess not. You can meet me at the corner if you like," replied Jack. | |
Mr. Gray's residence was situated in the fashionable part of the town. | |
It was an elegant establishment throughout, and Jack was not a little | |
awed by the sumptuous surroundings. | |
He was ushered into the hall, and found himself among half a dozen | |
others, all awaiting an interview with the manufacturer. | |
It was fully half an hour before he was told to enter the library. He | |
found Mr. Felix Gray seated at a desk which was deep with letters and | |
documents. | |
The manufacturer was a stout man of fifty, with a certain sullen, | |
bull-dog cast of countenance. | |
"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, hardly looking up. | |
[Illustration: "WELL, SIR, WHAT IS IT?" HE ASKED, HARDLY LOOKING UP.] | |
In a brief but clear manner Jack stated his case. Mr. Gray hardly heard | |
him out. | |
"Mr. Willington," he said sharply, "I never interfere with my agents' | |
doings. They have entire charge. Besides, it would be folly for me to | |
make your case an exception. If I did so, any other tenant might ask | |
the same privilege." | |
"Yes, but if you would only give me an order for some of the money due | |
me, or for my savings----" began the young machinist, growing desperate. | |
Mr. Gray drew himself up. | |
"You must get that in the regular way," he returned coolly. "I never | |
make exceptions to my rules. Good morning." | |
And before he could realize it, Jack was out on the street again with | |
bitter defeat written in every line of his handsome face. | |
CHAPTER III. | |
A RESULT OF A FIRE | |
At the corner Jack met Deb, whose anxiety had caused her to follow him | |
close to the Gray mansion. | |
"My! how long you've been!" she exclaimed, and then with a keen glance | |
into his face: "Did he---- Did he----" | |
"He said he couldn't do a thing, that it was all in the agent's hands," | |
burst out Jack, "He is meaner than mean. He will let that man put us | |
out even when he owes us more than the amount of the rent. Well, it may | |
be law, but it isn't justice and he shall not do it!" | |
And the young machinist shut his teeth in grim determination. | |
"If you can't get the money from the bank, I suppose you can't go into | |
business for yourself," said Deb, when they reached home. | |
"That's true enough. Before the shut-down I might have borrowed money, | |
but now I guess all our friends need every cent they have." | |
"Can't we raise some?" Deb's eyes wandered around the apartment. Jack | |
gave a dry little laugh. | |
"Not on this stuff," he replied. "But we're not reduced to that yet." | |
He walked over to where the model he was working on stood. "Wish this | |
was finished. I believe I can make a neat sum out of this invention." | |
"How long will it take to complete it?" | |
"Can't tell. It depends on one's ideas. But I'm going out." | |
"Where?" | |
"To look for work." | |
In a moment Jack had descended to the sidewalk. He found the streets | |
swarming with people, and as he had before thought, with a thousand men | |
idle, what chance was there of getting work? Finding that every place | |
in Corney was full he determined to try Redrock, another manufacturing | |
town, situated on the Camel Falls river, several miles below the present | |
place. The road between the two places followed the river bank. As Jack | |
trudged along close to the water, he heard a sudden cry for help. | |
Looking ahead he saw that one of the rear wheels of a wagon had come | |
off, and the driver, horses and vehicle were all in danger of being | |
dumped into the stream. It was but a moment's work for the young | |
machinist to rush up, and by catching the horses' heads, to turn them in | |
such a way that the turnout righted itself in the center of the road. | |
"Thank you, young man!" exclaimed the aged farmer, who was driving, as | |
he sprang to the ground. "That was a narrow escape, and no mistake." | |
"Your wagon is pretty well damaged," observed Jack as he examined the | |
shattered axle. | |
"Well, troubles never come singly." replied Farmer Farrell, for such | |
was his name. "This morning something got into the patent rake so it | |
wouldn't work; then the grindstone got cranky, and now this. But thanks | |
to Providence, I'm safe. I reckon I'll have to go back for the other | |
rig, though. Going my way?" | |
"Yes, sir. I'm bound for Redrock to look for work." | |
As the two walked along, Jack related what had happened in Corney. | |
"Well, I declare! I'm lucky any way," declared Farmer Farrell, "I got | |
my money out of the bank a month ago. It's too bad, though, for you. | |
What did you say you were?" | |
"I'm a machinist," replied Jack, and then suddenly: "Perhaps I can fix | |
up your patent rake and your grindstone. I'll do a good job and won't | |
overcharge you." | |
To this Farmer Farrell, who was taken by Jack's appearance, agreed, and | |
a few minutes later led the way up a lane to a well-stocked farm. | |
Down in the barn the young machinist found the things that needed | |
repairing. He looked everything over carefully. | |
"I'll bring my tools to-morrow and fix them up," he said. "If I get | |
work in Redrock I'll do the work early in the morning or after I quit." | |
"And the cost?" | |
"About five or six dollars." | |
"Cheap enough. Go ahead." | |
"I will. I'll be on hand early in the morning and do a good job," | |
replied Jack. | |
The young machinist met with no success at Redrock, and returned in an | |
hour to Corney. Deb was pleased to hear that some work, at least, had | |
been procured. | |
"It will pay the rent anyway," said Jack, "and that's something. | |
Perhaps, too, it may get me some more jobs like it." | |
"That's so," replied Deb, her face brightening. | |
In the evening Jack worked on his model. But he went to bed at ten | |
o'clock, so as to be up early the next morning. | |
"Jack! Jack! Wake up!" | |
It was Deb's voice from the next room that aroused him in the middle of | |
the night. | |
"There is a big fire over on the hill," she continued, "just look out of | |
the window." | |
But Jack was already up. | |
"You're right!" he replied. "It's a whopper, too!" he continued, as the | |
flames shot skyward, making all as bright as day. "I'll have to go," he | |
added. | |
"Must you?" | |
"Certainly, it's my duty to serve." | |
For Jack was a duly enlisted member of the Corney Volunteer Fire | |
Department. | |
He hurried into his clothing as rapidly as possible, and jumped down the | |
stairs three at a time. | |
"Don't get hurt!" called Deb after him. | |
The engine house was but a few blocks away. When Jack arrived there, he | |
found that the machine had been dragged out into the street but no | |
further. | |
"Why don't you catch hold?" he called to a crowd of men who stood on the | |
sidewalk. | |
"It's old Gray's house!" exclaimed one man, "and it can burn to the | |
ground for all I care." | |
"He don't help us; now let him help himself," put in another. | |
"Oh, pshaw! It won't do any good to act that way!" said Jack. "Come, | |
catch hold like men." | |
Jack was naturally a leader, and when he grasped the rope three other | |
young fellows followed, and in a moment the engine was on its way. | |
"It's too bad it's Mr. Gray's house," thought the machinist. "It will | |
make him harder-hearted than ever." | |
He gave no thought as to how the conflagration had originated, and did | |
his best to get the engine to the spot. | |
But, as has been stated, the place was up hill, and by the time they had | |
made their way along the unpaved road, the fire had gained such headway | |
that it was useless to pour water on the burning building, and all | |
attention was directed to saving the adjoining property. | |
The heat was intense, and Jack, who was often at the nozzle of the hose, | |
suffered greatly from this and the smoke. | |
In an hour the fire was declared under control, and a little later the | |
order came to take up the hose and go home. | |
Jack worked with a will. He had done his duty, and now he was anxious | |
to return, tell Deb all about it, and get to bed again. | |
While helping to wind the hose upon its carriage, he was suddenly | |
approached by Mr. Gray, accompanied by a stranger. | |
"There he is!" were Mr. Gray's first words, addressed to the stranger. | |
The man laid his hand upon Jack's shoulder. | |
"I want you," he said, quietly. | |
"What for?" asked Jack. | |
"I arrest you for setting fire to Mr. Gray's house," was the startling | |
reply. | |
"Arrest me!" exclaimed the young machinist. "What do you mean? I never | |
set fire to any one's house." | |
"Oh, yes, you did," put in the manufacturer. "Only you didn't expect to | |
be caught." | |
"It's false, I----" | |
"It's true. You shall suffer heavily for this night's work," went on | |
Mr. Gray, bitterly. "We'll see if the law allows tenants who won't pay | |
their rents to set their landlords' houses on fire! Watch him Parker, | |
don't let him escape you!" | |
"Mr. Gray, I never----" began Jack. | |
"Come along," broke in the officer, roughly. "You can do your talking in | |
the morning." | |
And without further words Jack was marched off to the Corney jail. | |
CHAPTER IV. | |
BAD NEWS FOR DEB | |
After her brother Jack had gone, Deb stood by the window a long time, | |
watching the progress of the fire. She beheld the flames shoot up, | |
heard the shrill whistle of the engines, and the shouts of the firemen, | |
and finally saw the light subside. | |
She opened the window, and from the conversation of the passers-by she | |
learned that it was Mr. Felix Gray's mansion that had been burned. | |
The little bronze clock upon the kitchen shelf struck four. | |
"Jack will be returning soon," she thought, "and he'll be awfully tired, | |
too." | |
An hour passed. She had put on a loose wrapper and sat in the rocker, | |
moving gently forward and backward. Presently the curly head began to | |
nod, and after one or two feeble attempts to rouse up, Deb sank calmly | |
into the land of dreams. | |
When she awoke, she found it was broad daylight, and the tread of many | |
feet upon the pavement outside told that work had already begun. | |
"Eight o'clock!" exclaimed the girl. "What can keep Jack so long?" | |
Then the thought struck her that her brother had returned and retired | |
without waking her, but a glance revealed the empty bed. | |
Deb's face blanched a trifle as the idea crossed her mind that maybe | |
something had happened, after all. Fires were such dreadful things, | |
with falling chimneys and half-burned staircases, and Jack was so | |
daring, and so ready to risk his life for the benefit of others. | |
"I'll go down to Mrs. Snitzer's and find out about it," was her | |
conclusion, and locking the door she descended the stairs. | |
Mrs. Snitzer was a German woman, who, with her husband and three | |
stalwart sons, occupied the floor below. She was a stout, kindly-faced | |
woman of about fifty, had been Deb's neighbor for a year, and took a | |
genuine interest in the girl and her brother. | |
"Your brudder no got home yet from der fire?" she said, after Deb had | |
stated the object of her morning call; "I thought der fire vas out long | |
ago. Mine boys come home, and vent to ped again, aput five o'clock. Da | |
don't work now, so da say: 'Mudder, ve take a goot sleep for vonce in | |
our lifes;'" she added, with a broad smile. | |
"Jack's out of work, too," said Deb, soberly. | |
"Yah? Vat a shame! Nefer mind, it don't last forefer. Come, have some | |
coffee mit me. My man ist gone out for the baber. He come back soon." | |
The good woman set out one of her low chairs, and knowing that Mrs. | |
Snitzer's invitations were genuine, the girl sat down, and allowed | |
herself to be helped to a bowl of the steaming beverage, accompanied by | |
several slices of sugared zweibach. | |
Just as the two were finishing Mr. Snitzer came in, paper in hand. | |
His face grew troubled upon seeing Deb. | |
"I vas sorry for you," he said, approaching her. | |
"Sorry for me?" repeated the girl, with a puzzled look. "Why, Mr. | |
Snitzer?" | |
"Gracious! Didn't you hear?" returned the man, dropping his paper in | |
astonishment. | |
"Hear what?" faltered Deb. | |
Mr. Snitzer spoke in German to his wife, who jumped to her feet. | |
"Nein! nein!" exclaimed the woman, vehemently. "He nefer done dot--nefer | |
in his whole life!" | |
And then as gently as possible Mrs. Snitzer related how Jack had been | |
accused by Mr. Felix Gray of setting fire to the mansion, and was now | |
languishing in the town jail. | |
Deb's outburst was dreadful to behold. She threw herself upon the old | |
German woman's breast and sobbed as if her heart would break. Her | |
Jack--her own dear brother, in prison! The only one she had in the wide | |
world taken away from her, and sent to a criminal's cell! It was too | |
horrible to realize. | |
"How cruel of them to do it!" she moaned. "And he is innocent, too. He | |
was home when the fire broke out;" and she shook her head in despair. | |
"Of course he didn't do it," said Mr. Snitzer. "All der men say so. | |
Jack vas as steady as anypody. I dink it vas some of der hot-headed men | |
vas guilty." | |
"So don't cry, my dear girl," added Mrs. Snitzer, sympathetically. "It | |
vill come out all right by der end;" and she took one corner of her | |
clean gingham apron and wiped the tear-stained cheeks. | |
"Where is the--the jail?" asked Deb presently, in a low voice. | |
Mr. Snitzer described its location. | |
"You don't vas going there!" exclaimed the German woman. | |
"Yes, I am," declared the girl, resolutely, with a sudden, strong look | |
in her beautiful eyes. | |
"But it vas a terrible bad blace," Mrs. Snitzer ventured to remark. | |
"I don't care," replied Deb. "I won't mind going where Jack is. I must | |
see if I can't do something for him." | |
Deb ran up stairs. Her heart was full of fear, and beat wildly. | |
She exchanged her wrapper for a suitable dress, and arranged her hair. | |
As she was adjusting her hat, there was a knock on the door, and | |
thinking Mrs. Snitzer had come up, she bid the person enter. | |
"Ah, just in time, I see!" was the exclamation, made in Mr. Hammerby's | |
voice. | |
Deb's face clouded even more than before. | |
"Oh, dear, you here?" she ejaculated in vexed tones. | |
"Yes; on hand, as I always am," replied the agent, removing his hat. "I | |
suppose you are ready with the rent?" | |
"No, I haven't the money," replied Deb. Somehow it was all she could | |
manage to say. | |
"Your brother was unable to raise the amount?" | |
"He hasn't had time to try." | |
"I'm sorry, but as I said before 'business is business,' and I'll have | |
to serve the notice," and drawing a paper from his pocket, Mr. Hammerby | |
handed it over. | |
It was a regular notice drawn up in due form, demanding that in three | |
days they quit the place. | |
Deb read it, but in her excitement did not notice that the avaricious | |
agent had dated it one day back. | |
"And must we leave in three days?" she faltered. | |
"Most assuredly--unless you raise the cash." | |
"But where will we go?" continued the girl hopelessly. | |
"That's for you to decide," was the answer. Mr. Hammerby had gone | |
through so many "scenes," as he termed them, that the evident suffering | |
of the person he addressed did not affect him. | |
"But we haven't got anywhere to go," burst out Deb. | |
"Well, that's not my fault, is it?" | |
"No, but----" | |
"Then it's pay or leave," was the cold reply. | |
"What's up now, Mr. Hammerby?" asked a quiet voice from the hallway. | |
It was the nephew of the tool manufacturer who had come. His name was | |
Monteray Gray--the Monteray being generally shortened to Mont. He was a | |
young man of twenty, and kept the books for the shipping department of | |
the tool works. | |
"What, Mr. Gray, is that you?" exclaimed the agent, taken back at the | |
sudden interruption. "Oh, it's only the same old story of no money for | |
the landlord," he added. | |
Mont looked at Deb. He knew both her and Jack very well. | |
"I am sorry to hear it," he said, with a pained face. | |
"It's all because of the shut-down at the factory," explained Deb, who, | |
for a purely womanly reason wanted to set herself right with the young | |
man. | |
In a few short words she made him acquainted with the situation. | |
Involuntarily Mont's hand went down in his pocket, and then he suddenly | |
remembered that he had no money with him. | |
"See here, Mr. Hammerby," he said, "you had better take this notice | |
back. There is no doubt that you will get your money." | |
"Can't do it," replied the agent, with a decided shake of the head. | |
"But my uncle would never consent to having them put out," persisted the | |
young man. | |
"Mr. Gray's orders are to give notice to any one who doesn't pay," | |
returned Mr. Hammerby, grimly; "I'm only doing as directed." | |
"But this is an outrage!" exclaimed Mont. "My uncle virtually owes Mr. | |
Willington twenty odd dollars, and here you intend to put him out for a | |
few dollars rent." | |
"You can see your uncle about it, if you wish. I shall stick to my | |
orders." | |
"Then you won't stop this notice?" | |
"No." | |
"Very well," replied Mont, quietly. | |
"I'm hired to do certain things, and I'm going to do them," continued | |
the agent. "Besides, I just heard this morning that this fellow is | |
locked up for setting fire to your uncle's house. I should not think | |
that you would care to stick up for him," he went on. | |
"But I do care," returned the young man, with a sudden show of spirit. | |
"He is a friend of mine, and I don't believe him guilty." | |
"Humph! Well, maybe. It's none of my business; all I want is the rent, | |
and if they can't pay they must leave," said Mr. Hammerby, bluntly. | |
"Good morning," he continued to Deb, and without waiting for more words, | |
turned and left the apartment. | |
"I am sorry that my uncle has such a hard-hearted man for his agent," | |
observed Mont to Deb with a look of chagrin on his face. | |
"So am I," she replied, and then suddenly; "Oh, Mont, Jack is----" | |
"I know all about it," he interrupted. "I've just been down to see him. | |
He gave me this note for you," and Mont handed the note to Deb. | |
CHAPTER V. | |
FINDING BAIL | |
Jack hardly realized what arrest meant until he heard the iron door | |
clang shut, and found himself in a stone cell, scarcely six feet square, | |
with nothing but a rough board upon which to rest. | |
He sat down with a heart that was heavier than ever before. The various | |
misfortunes of the day had piled themselves up until he thought they had | |
surely reached the end, and now, as if to cap the climax, here he was | |
arrested for the burning of a place that he had worked like a beaver for | |
two hours to save. | |
He wondered how Mr. Felix Gray had come to make the charge against him. | |
He could think of no reason that could excite suspicion, saving, | |
perhaps, his rather hasty words in the tool manufacturer's library the | |
afternoon previous. | |
"I suppose he thinks I did it out of revenge," thought the young | |
machinist; "but then there are men--like Andy Mosey, for instance--who | |
have threatened far more than I. Guess I can clear myself--by an alibi, | |
or some such evidence." | |
Nevertheless, he chafed under the thought of being a prisoner, and felt | |
decidedly blue when Deb entered his mind. What would his sister think | |
of his absence, and what would she say when told what had happened? | |
"Maybe I can send her word," he said to himself, and knocked loudly upon | |
the door. | |
The watchman was just asleep on a sofa in an adjoining room and did not | |
hear him. | |
Failing to attract attention in this way, Jack began to kick, and so | |
vigorously did he apply his heels that he awoke the sleeper with such a | |
start that he came running to the spot instantly. | |
"Can I send a message home?" asked the young machinist. | |
"Not till morning," was the surly reply; "is that all you want?" | |
"Yes. Isn't there any way at all?" persisted Jack. "I have a sister | |
who will worry over my absence." | |
The man gaped and opened his eyes meditatively. | |
"You might if you was willing to pay for it," he replied, slowly. | |
"I have no money with me," replied Jack, feeling in his pockets to make | |
sure. | |
"Have to wait till morning then," was the short reply, and the young | |
machinist was once more left alone. | |
He was utterly tired out, and in the course of half an hour fell into a | |
troubled slumber, from which he did not awaken until called. | |
"Some one to see you," were the watchman's words, and the door opened to | |
admit Mont Gray. | |
Mont was a tall, thin young man. He had a large brow, deep, dark eyes, | |
and a strangely earnest face. He was quiet in his way, attended | |
punctually to his office duties, and was on much better terms with the | |
hands at the tool works than his uncle had ever been. He was the only | |
son of Mr. Felix Gray's youngest brother, who had died a widower some | |
twelve years before--died, some said, and put out of the way, others | |
whispered. That there was some mystery connected with those times was | |
certain. Rumor had it that Felix Gray had crowded his brother out of | |
the business in which he originally owned a half share. This | |
transaction was followed by Monterey Gray's sudden disappearance. Felix | |
Gray gave it as his opinion that his brother had departed for Australia, | |
a place of which he had often spoken. | |
Young Mont--he was named after his father--had been taken to live with | |
his uncle, who kept bachelor's hall in fine style. | |
The boy got along as best he could under the sharp guardianship of Mr. | |
Felix Gray, who, as soon as he could, placed Mont at one of the desks, | |
where he was now allowed to earn his board and four dollars a week. | |
His position at the tool works brought him into daily contact with Jack; | |
and, during the past two years, a warm friendship had sprung up between | |
them. He knew all about the young machinist's ambition, and had spent | |
many an evening at the Willingtons' apartments watching Jack work, and | |
chatting to Deb, with whom, as is known, he was on good terms. | |
"Hello, Mont!" exclaimed Jack, "what brings you here? Did your uncle | |
send you?" | |
"Send me!" said the young man. "No, indeed! he doesn't even suspect I'm | |
here; if he did he would raise a row, sure." | |
"Then you don't believe I'm guilty?" began Jack, somewhat relieved. | |
"Humph! Nonsense! I only wonder uncle Felix thinks so," returned Mont. | |
"It seems to me that the evidence of a match safe is a mighty slim one." | |
This was news to the young machinist. | |
"Why, what about a match safe?" he asked. | |
"Didn't you hear?" was Mont's question, in surprise. "They found a | |
match safe with your last name on it, in the basement." | |
Jack sprang up in astonishment. | |
"Was it a small silver safe, with a bear's head on one side, and a | |
lion's on the other?" he asked. | |
"Yes; then it is yours?" | |
"Yes, it's mine. But I haven't seen it for nearly a month," burst out | |
the young machinist. "I missed it out of my pocket, and suspected Andy | |
Mosey of having taken it, though I could not prove it. But I see it all | |
now. Mosey was speaking of revenge up at the bank yesterday morning, | |
and he has done the deed, and used my property to throw suspicion on | |
me." | |
"But he wouldn't do such a mean thing unless he had a grudge against | |
you," remarked Mont. | |
"He has several of them. More than once, when he was drunk, and came | |
interfering around my work, I threatened to report him. Besides, I have | |
the job he always thought his son Mike should have." | |
"I see. But can you prove that he had the safe?" | |
"I don't think I can. But I believe I can prove that I lost it, and was | |
home when the fire started?" | |
"Does Deb know you are here?" asked Mont, suddenly. | |
"Not unless some one else has let her know. Will you take her a note?" | |
"Certainly; I was going to suggest that very thing. I intended to call | |
on her." | |
Jack took the sheet of paper that Mont supplied and wrote a few words of | |
cheer to his sister. | |
"I'll tell her the particulars," said the young man, as he pocketed the | |
letter. "Is there anything else you want done?" | |
"Nothing now. Maybe there will be later on." | |
"I'll do what I can for you," continued Mont, "even if my uncle doesn't | |
like it;" and he stepped out of the cell. | |
Half an hour later Jack was brought out for examination. The court room | |
was crowded with the now idle men, and many were the expressions of | |
sympathy for the young machinist, and denunciation for Mr. Felix Gray's | |
hasty action. | |
The tool manufacturer himself did not appear. The officer who made the | |
arrest said that the excitement of the past two days had made the | |
plaintiff quite ill. | |
The hearing was a brief one. The match safe was the only evidence | |
produced against Jack, and as he had no means of proving his innocence | |
then and there, it was decided to hold him to wait the action of the | |
grand jury, three weeks later. Bail was fixed at one thousand | |
dollars--a sum that was thought amply sufficient to keep any one from | |
becoming his bondsman. | |
Meanwhile, Mont had delivered the note, as already recorded, and while | |
being led out of the court room, Jack recognized the young man in the | |
crowd, and an instant later found Deb at his side. | |
"Oh, Jack!" was all the poor girl could say, and clinging to his arms, | |
she began to sob outright. | |
To see Deb cry made the young machinist feel worse than did his | |
incarceration. He drew his sister to one side--away from the public | |
gaze, and comforted her the best he could. | |
But the thought of going to prison was too terrifying to be subdued. | |
"Three weeks before they will hear what you have to say!" she exclaimed. | |
"If you could only find that Mosey!" | |
"But he has left," put in Mont; "I tried everywhere to find him. Maybe | |
you can get bail." | |
"I can't get it while I'm in prison," returned Jack, gloomily. | |
"I'll take you anywhere you wish to go," said the under-sheriff, who had | |
him in charge. He was a married man, had daughters of his own, and | |
Deb's anguish went straight to his heart. | |
Jack thought a moment. "Perhaps I might get Mr. Benton to go on my | |
bond," he said. | |
The man he referred to was the wealthy speculator who had examined the | |
model and praised the invention. | |
"But he would want security. Perhaps I'd have to sign over my rights to | |
him," he continued with a sigh. | |
"It would be a shame to do that," said Mont. "You expect so much from | |
the patent." | |
"But you wouldn't lose it unless you ran away," put in Deb; "and of | |
course you're not going to do that." | |
Jack gave another sigh. | |
"I'll go and see him anyway," he said. | |
CHAPTER VI. | |
HOME ONCE MORE | |
A little later Jack and Mont separated, and in company with the | |
constable, the young machinist called on Mr. Benton at the Coney House. | |
The speculator listened attentively to Jack's story. He was shrewd, a | |
close reader of human nature, and thought he saw a chance of securing a | |
bargain or of placing the embryo inventor under obligation to him. | |
"Tell you what I'll do," he said. "Give me a paper securing to me your | |
invention if you don't turn up at the proper time, and I'll go your | |
bond, providing----" and here Mr. Benton paused. | |
"What?" asked Jack eagerly. | |
"Providing you give me a half interest in it now." | |
Jack staggered back. | |
"A half interest?" | |
"That's what I said." | |
"But, sir----" | |
"You haven't got to accept my offer if you don't wish to," was the | |
apparent indifferent reply. | |
Had he thought only of himself Jack would have refused. To give up that | |
for which he had worked for years was terribly hard. | |
But Deb, dear Deb, what would become of her if he did not accept? | |
"I'll do it," he said, shortly. And then, with a sudden thought: "But | |
you must give me a money consideration." | |
"How much?" asked the man of means. | |
"One hundred dollars." Jack knew Mr. Benton would offer less. | |
"Too much! I'll give you twenty-five." | |
"No; a hundred." | |
"Make it fifty. I can't spare a cent more. Besides, the thing may not | |
be worth a dollar." | |
"Or several thousand," put in Jack. "But I accept the offer." | |
"Very well. I'll pay you the money to-morrow. I'm short to-day." | |
Knowing that with all his sharp business practice Mr. Benton was a man | |
of his word, the young machinist did not object to waiting for his cash. | |
In his excitement he forgot all about Mr. Hammerby and the rent that | |
must be paid. | |
It was fully an hour before the necessary papers were drawn up and | |
signed, and then with hasty steps Jack made his way home. | |
Deb met him at the door, and at once he had to give her the particulars | |
of what had been done. | |
"Never mind, anything is better than having you in prison," she said | |
when he had finished. "And it may be just as well to have Mr. Benton for | |
a partner now as to give him the chance of getting the whole thing later | |
on." | |
Deb was delighted to learn that they were to receive fifty dollars in | |
cash the next day. | |
"I'll be so glad to get rid of that horrid agent," she declared, and | |
showed Jack the notice to quit. | |
In looking it over he discovered that it had been dated the day before. | |
"The mean fellow!" he exclaimed. "He thinks to get us out one day | |
sooner than the law allows. Won't he be astonished when I pull out the | |
roll of bills and pay him?" | |
In anticipation of the money soon to be received, and in honor of Jack's | |
release, Deb prepared quite an elaborate dinner. | |
It nearly took her breath away when she discovered that the outlay | |
footed up to nearly a dollar--a large sum for them. But then her | |
brother did delight in cutlets, with potatoes and green corn, and | |
somehow the table wouldn't have looked complete without some stewed | |
prunes and a pudding-dessert--the latter just fixed to tickle Jack's | |
palate. | |
During the meal Mont slipped in, and was compelled to sit down with | |
them. He was delighted to see the young machinist free, but shook his | |
head over the price that had been paid for liberty. | |
"What do you intend to do now?" he asked. | |
"Find Andy Mosey, if I can, and have him arrested," replied Jack. "It | |
is the only way, I believe, that I can clear myself." | |
"It isn't likely you will find him," remarked the young man. "He will | |
no doubt keep shady for a while." | |
"I shan't look for him to-day, excepting to strike a clue," was the | |
young machinist's reply. | |
After the meal was finished, and Mont had gone, Jack announced his | |
intention to do the repairs that he had promised Farmer Farrell. | |
"I might as well do them at once," he said to Deb, "it will be several | |
dollars in pocket, and we need all the money we can get now. If this | |
case goes to trial I'll have to hire a lawyer, and they charge heavily." | |
"So, I've heard," replied Deb, "but I wouldn't mind that if only you get | |
free." | |
"I'll try my best," replied Jack taking up his kit of tools. | |
"When will you be back?" she asked as he started to go. | |
"I can't say. It depends on the job. Don't worry if it is late." | |
"All right; I'll keep the supper warm till you come." | |
So young, and yet a perfect housekeeper! | |
"She'll make some fellow a good wife one of these days," said Jack to | |
himself as he strode along. | |
It was a fine day, and the walk by the river side was a delightful one, | |
but the young machinist scarcely noticed the surroundings. His mind was | |
busy with the numerous difficulties that had risen round him, and he | |
endeavored to lay out a definite plan of action by which to extricate | |
himself. | |
When he arrived at the farm, he found his acquaintance of the previous | |
day hard at work on the patent rake, which he had taken almost entirely | |
apart. | |
"Just in time, young man!" exclaimed farmer Farrell, wiping the | |
perspiration from his brow; "I thought, seeing as how you didn't come | |
this morning, I'd see what I could do myself. But the job's a leetle | |
too much for me. I've got the pesky thing apart and can't put two | |
pieces together again." | |
"That's because you don't understand machinery and haven't the tools," | |
replied the young machinist, and taking off his coat, he set to work at | |
once. | |
He picked out the worn screws and bolts and substituted the new ones | |
which he had brought. Then he sorted out the various parts in their | |
proper order, and examined each critically. | |
"This bit of iron that guides the pressure spring is warped," he | |
remarked. "Did the rake pull hard when the left side was lower than the | |
right?" | |
"Yes, and squeaked, too." | |
"Then, that's the cause of it, and all the oil in the world wouldn't | |
help it." | |
"Can you fix it?" asked the farmer, anxiously. | |
"I can if I can get a hot fire," replied Jack. | |
"I'll start it up at once," returned farmer Farrell, and he disappeared | |
into the house. | |
When he had the fire well under way, Jack heated the part, and gave it | |
the proper shape. Then he put the machine together, adjusted it | |
carefully, and oiled the parts. | |
"Guess it's all right now," he said, lifting it over. | |
"We'll soon see," returned the farmer. Going to the barn he brought out | |
one of the horses and hitched him to the machine. Then he mounted the | |
seat and drove up and down the field several times. | |
"Works like a charm!" he declared. "You understand your trade and no | |
mistake. How much for the job?" | |
This question was a stickler to Jack. He did not wish to ask too much, | |
and he could not afford to ask too little. | |
"They would charge you three dollars at the machine shops," he said. | |
"Then I suppose that's what it's worth," continued the farmer. He was a | |
whole-souled man, and was taken by Jack's outspoken manner. "But | |
there's the other things to do yet," he continued. | |
"I know it; so we'll put this job at two dollars," said the young | |
machinist. | |
"Never mind, I'm satisfied to pay three," laughed farmer Farrell. "Come | |
into the barn; I've found quite a lot of stuff that needs doctoring, and | |
I want you to put everything in first-class shape." | |
"I'll do my best." | |
Farmer Farrell led the way, and Jack was soon as busy as a bee, putting | |
the machines in running order and overhauling other farming implements. | |
[Illustration: JACK WAS SOON AS BUSY AS A BEE, PUTTING THE MACHINES IN | |
RUNNING ORDER AND OVERHAULING OTHER FARMING IMPLEMENTS.] | |
"Why didn't you stop this morning?" asked the farmer, presently. He had | |
intended going reaping, but Jack's handy use of tools interested him and | |
made him linger. | |
In an easy manner that did not interfere with his work, the young | |
machinist narrated the particulars of what had occurred to detain him. | |
"Well, now, that beats all! Trouble piling right up on top of ye! | |
Wonder if I don't know this Mosey," continued the farmer, reflectively. | |
"Is he a short man with a red beard?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Didn't he use to work over to Redrock?" | |
"I believe he did." | |
"Then I reckon I do. He's a bad egg. I used to sell the company he | |
worked for hay for packing, and Mosey used to weigh it. Several times, | |
when I was sure it was correct, he reported short, and when I spoke to | |
him about it, he said it would never be right until I made it right with | |
him, or, in other words, paid him for his good will." | |
"How did it turn out?" asked Jack, interested in the story. | |
"Oh, I spoke of it to the owners, but they believed his side of the | |
story, and I lost their trade. But, all the same, he was discharged a | |
month later for being drunk. If I ain't mistaken, I saw him pass early | |
yesterday morning." | |
"I just wish I could lay hands on him," returned the young machinist; "I | |
don't believe he would keep out of the way if he wasn't guilty." | |
"Maybe I'll see him," said the farmer. "If I do I'll watch him, and let | |
you know." | |
It was close on to six o'clock when Jack finished the work. During the | |
afternoon he had done jobs for which he asked five dollars, and farmer | |
Farrell, who knew that he would have been charged twice as much in the | |
town, paid the bill without a murmur. | |
Ten minutes later, with his kit under his arm, and the new five-dollar | |
bill tucked safely in his vest pocket, the young machinist started for | |
home. | |
The sun was setting, and the road, shaded for its greater part by large | |
trees, was growing dark rapidly. | |
About midway of the distance to Corney stood an old mill, abandoned | |
several years before, whose disused water-wheel still hung idly over the | |
swiftly flowing river beneath. | |
It was a ghostly looking structure, and having the reputation of being | |
haunted, was seldom visited, except by adventurous tourists and by | |
amateur photographers, who remained at a safe distance to take views of | |
the really picturesque locality. | |
As Jack passed the mill, he saw a man approach from the opposite | |
direction. Judge of his astonishment when he recognized the individual | |
as Andy Mosey! | |
He had seen the young machinist at the same instant, and turning rapidly | |
from the road, he darted to one side of the mill. | |
For a second Jack stood still, hardly able to move. But he quickly | |
recovered, and dropping his kit, which was heavy, he started in pursuit. | |
"He shall not escape me," he resolved. "He is larger than I, but I am | |
not afraid to meet him face to face." | |
There was a large shed attached to the mill, and entering this, the | |
young machinist looked carefully around to see if he could find any | |
trace of the man. But a brief search assured him that the place had not | |
been disturbed for months. | |
Passing through the partly open door, he entered the lower floor of the | |
mill, and found himself in the presence of Dennis Corrigan, Mosey's | |
brother-in-law. | |
"What do you want here?" demanded Corrigan, springing up from the bench | |
upon which he had been seated. | |
Jack could hardly form a proper reply. With two men against him, he | |
realized that he was in a bad fix. | |
"Why, I didn't know that you were here, Corrigan," he began. "I | |
thought----" | |
Jack never finished the sentence. He heard a noise behind him, but | |
before he could turn to see what it was, he received a cruel blow on the | |
head, and then all became a dark, terrible blank. | |
CHAPTER VII. | |
INTO THE RIVER | |
Slowly and painfully, with a dull ache in his head, and an uncertain | |
look in his eyes, Jack returned to his senses. A thin stream of blood | |
trickled down his neck, and putting up his hand he felt a large lump | |
under the hair. | |
"It must have been Mosey who struck me," was his first thought as he | |
gathered his scattered faculties together. "Well, thank God, he didn't | |
kill me." | |
It was some time before he felt any desire to rise, and when he finally | |
did so, he found himself weaker than he had anticipated. | |
"The coward!" was the young machinist's comment. "To strike me | |
unawares. I knew he disliked me, but hasn't he wronged me enough | |
already?" | |
Jack did not know--nor, indeed, could he have understood--the bitter | |
hatred the Irishman bore him. | |
The only pride of Andy Mosey's life was his bull pup and his son Mike, | |
and to have the young machinist occupying a position he thought his son | |
should have, had always been more than this hot-tempered fellow was | |
inclined to bear. | |
The place in which Jack found himself was totally dark, whether because | |
it had no windows, or because it was night, he could not tell. | |
He groped around, and seeing a ray of light coming up from beneath, | |
applied his eye to what proved to be a knot-hole in the floor. | |
He was surprised to find the river flowing directly below, and knew at | |
once that he was in the lowest part of the old mill, opposite the | |
ancient wheel. | |
"They must have carried me here," he said to himself. "I wonder how | |
long ago?" | |
He felt his way along the walls, and at last reached the door. He was | |
on the point of lifting the latch, when it was thrown open, and by the | |
the rays of a lantern that at first dazzled him, he saw himself | |
confronted by Dennis Corrigan and Andy Mosey. | |
"So ye'v cum to yer sinses at last, have ye?" was Mosey's greeting, as | |
he set down the lantern. "Ye wint down moighty easy, so ye did." | |
"I'd like to know what right you have to treat me in this shameful | |
manner," demanded Jack, indignantly. | |
"Never moind," returned the Irishman; "it will teach ye a lesson not to | |
tell lying stories about me." | |
"I haven't said anything but what I believe to be true," replied Jack, | |
pointedly. | |
"Sure, now, is that raly so? Well, ye can suffer for thinking wrong," | |
continued Mosey. "Oi niver----" | |
"Oh, stop your everlasting jaw!" broke in Corrigan, who was more | |
practical in his way than his brother-in-law. "Never mind what you've | |
done, and what you haven't done. The question is, what are we to do | |
with the boy, now he's here?" | |
The Irishman scratched his head. | |
"It won't do to let him go," he said. | |
"Suppose we search his pockets," suggested Corrigan. | |
Jack uttered an exclamation. | |
"What do you mean?" he demanded; "you wouldn't dare?" | |
Corrigan laughed. The young machinist did not yet know that this man | |
was at heart a thorough villain. | |
"Wait and see," he remarked, coolly. "Put your back to the door, Andy, | |
and don't let him escape." | |
Corrigan was a heavily built and powerful man, and in his present | |
condition Jack knew that he was no match for such an opponent. | |
"What do you want?" asked the young machinist. | |
"Want to see what you have with you. Come, show up." | |
Jack's head still ached from the rough treatment it had received. He | |
did not wish to court another such blow, and so did as demanded. | |
A knife, ten cents, the five-dollar bill farmer Farrell had given him, | |
and a copy of his agreement with Mr. Benton were all the articles of | |
value that he carried. | |
"Here's something for you, Andy," observed Corrigan, tossing over the | |
ten-cent piece. "The price of a drink." | |
Corrigan quietly slipped the five-dollar bill into his own clothes. | |
Then opening the agreement, he held it near the lantern and read it | |
carefully. It seemed to interest him greatly, and muttering something | |
to himself, he shoved it into the inside pocket of his coat. | |
"Do you intend to rob me outright?" exclaimed Jack, whose blood boiled | |
at such treatment. | |
"If that's what you call it, I suppose we do," was Corrigan's reply. | |
The young machinist was now becoming more used to the situation, and he | |
determined to submit no longer. He noticed that Mosey had unconsciously | |
moved to one side, and watching his chance, he sprang for the door. | |
But Corrigan was too quick for him, and with a reach of his long arm he | |
caught the young machinist by the collar, and held him until Mosey had | |
again reached the door. | |
Jack's grit was up and he wrestled with all his strength. He caught his | |
antagonist by the waist, and literally threw him to the floor. | |
"Hit him. Andy, hit him!" screamed Corrigan, trying to regain his feet. | |
Mosey approached Jack with the same stick he had used in the first | |
encounter. The young machinist caught the blow upon the left arm, and | |
retaliated by landing one square from the shoulder on the Irishman's | |
nasal organ. He did not believe in pugilism, but knew something of the | |
art of self-defense; and used his knowledge to good advantage. | |
He followed up the first blow by another, and had just gained the door | |
for the second time, when Corrigan, with a vile exclamation, seized the | |
heavy brass lantern, and swinging it over his head, brought it down with | |
all force upon Jack's neck. | |
The blow half stunned the young machinist, and before he could recover | |
he was on his back, with Corrigan on top of him. | |
"Phat shall we do?" asked Mosey in bewilderment. Jack's unexpected | |
attack had surprised and dismayed him. | |
"Get that rope upstairs," gasped Corrigan, who was well-nigh winded; | |
"we'll bind him so tight that he won't give us any more trouble." | |
The Irishman disappeared for a few moments. | |
When he returned he held a stout cord in his hand, with which the two | |
bound the young machinist securely, hands and feet. | |
"We'll leave him here for the present," said Corrigan, when they had | |
finished their work. "Come on," and taking up the lantern, which in | |
spite of its rough usage still remained lit, he led the way up stairs | |
followed by Mosey. | |
"Well, I'm in a pretty fix, and no mistake," was Jack's mental decision | |
when alone. "So far, my exertions to gain freedom haven't amounted to | |
anything. But if they think that I'm going to give up already, they are | |
mistaken." | |
He tugged at the cords, and by a strong effort managed, though not | |
without painful squeezing, to pull his feet free. | |
His hands, however, were placed altogether too closely to allow of a | |
similar proceeding, and he endeavored to find some means of cutting the | |
fastening. | |
He remembered that the latch of the door was a rusty one, and rough on | |
its lower side. Walking over to this, he began to rub the cord along | |
the edge in the hope of severing it, but the improvised saw--if it might | |
be called such--was not a handy tool, and half an hour passed before he | |
made any material progress. | |
"It's mighty slow work," he said to himself: "but it's bound to wear | |
away sooner or later." | |
Presently a heavy step sounded outside on the stairs, and a moment later | |
Andy Mosey pitched into the room. | |
He was in a sad state of intoxication, and his face was red with anger. | |
"Been tellin' foine sthories about me!" he exclaimed. "Saying I sthole | |
yer match-box an' set foire to old Gray's house! Oi'll fix ye!" | |
[Illustration: "BEEN TELLIN' FOINE STHORIES ABOUT ME!" HE EXCLAIMED. | |
"SAYIN' I STHOLE YER MATCH-BOX AN' SET FOIRE TO OLD GRAY'S HOUSE! OI'LL | |
FIX YE!"] | |
He held a heavy stick in his hand, and as he spoke he brought it down | |
with full force on Jack's head. The young machinist went down like a | |
shot. | |
"Tellin' loies about me!" continued Mosey, as he dragged the half | |
senseless body to the water's edge. | |
"Help! Help!" cried Jack, in a feeble voice. | |
But his cries were of no avail, and the next instant the young machinist | |
was being swept by the rushing tide down the stream, to the roaring | |
falls below. | |
CHAPTER VIII. | |
SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL | |
Deb grew anxious when seven o'clock came and Jack did not put in an | |
appearance. Under ordinary circumstances, she would not have minded it, | |
but the events of the past two days combined to make her worry more than | |
usual. She sat by the window, watching the stream of people returning | |
from work, and then, when it was half after the hour, put on her hat and | |
descended to the street below. | |
She walked slowly in the direction of the Redrock road, in hope of | |
meeting her brother. At the end of three blocks, she came face to face | |
with Mont Gray, who had just been finishing up some accounts at the tool | |
works. | |
"Where are you going, may I ask?" he said, with a smile. | |
"To meet Jack," replied Deb. "He ought to be home by this time." | |
"Perhaps the work took longer than he expected," observed the young man. | |
"You know he hates to leave a job until it's done." | |
"Oh, I know that. But I wish he would come, anyway; I can't bear to | |
have him away now." | |
"Depend upon it, he can take good care of himself," added Mont. "Come, | |
shall I walk home with you?" | |
"I suppose I might as well go," returned the girl, slowly, and turned | |
back. "Oh, I'm so awfully nervous," she added. | |
"Your troubles have been too much for you," he answered, kindly. "They | |
would have been for almost any one." | |
Though Mont's capital was, as we know, rather limited, he was anxious to | |
help Deb and Jack all he could. Yet he hardly knew how to broach the | |
subject. | |
"Did you--did Mr. Hammerby call again?" he asked, hesitatingly. | |
"Yes, and gave us a three days' notice to quit," replied the girl. | |
"He----" | |
"He shall not put you out!" exclaimed the young man, vehemently. "It's | |
an outrage! It's bad enough for my uncle to believe your brother | |
guilty, but to put you out----" | |
"But we are not going," continued Deb. | |
"I don't blame you. If I can help you----?" he began. | |
"No, you don't understand," returned Deb, quickly. "It's real good of | |
you to offer help, but we don't need it," and she told him of the money | |
Mr. Benton was to pay over on the following morning. | |
"I'm glad to hear you're going to get some cash out of that man," | |
remarked Mont. "Although even so, he made a sharp bargain with Jack." | |
A few minutes later they reached the house. | |
"Will you come up?" asked Deb. | |
"I haven't time," he replied. "I've got to do an errand for my uncle. | |
Maybe afterward, if I have a chance I'll take a look for Jack, and come | |
up with him." | |
"Oh, I wish you would," she returned, "I know it's dreadfully silly for | |
me to be so easily worried, but I can't help it." | |
"Oh, it's all right, I suppose. If I was in his place maybe I'd like to | |
be worried about, too," and away went Mont, whistling quite a merry air. | |
The young girl entered the kitchen and lit the lamp. It was now | |
half-past eight, and as the people of the neighborhood were hard | |
workers. who retired early, the streets were comparatively quiet. | |
She left the supper dishes upon the table, and putting some extra coal | |
into the stove, set the tea and other things so that they might keep | |
warm. | |
It was a dreary evening for her. She did not care much to read--actual | |
life interested her far more than books--and now all her thoughts were | |
centered on Jack. | |
"It's a pretty long walk from that farmer's place," she kept saying to | |
herself. "But he will come soon, oh, he must come soon." | |
Her reflections were broken by hearing an unknown step upon the stairs, | |
followed by a sharp rap at the door. | |
Hardly knowing whom to expect at this hour of the night, she bade the | |
person enter. | |
The newcomer was Dennis Corrigan! | |
Deb did not know the man. She had seen him on the streets, but though | |
he was fairly well dressed, she was not taken by his general appearance. | |
"Does Jack Willington live here?" asked Corrigan, with a hasty glance | |
around the kitchen, to see who might be present. | |
"Yes, sir," replied Deb, and then realizing that the man might have news | |
for her, she continued quickly: "Did he send you?" | |
"Yes, Miss. He said I was to get a model that he had here." | |
This assertion surprised the girl. What in the world could Jack want | |
with his model this time of night? | |
"Where is my brother?" she asked. | |
Corrigan was not prepared to answer this question. | |
"He is--down the street," he stammered. | |
"Where?" | |
"Why--down in McGlory's saloon." | |
This reply was a fatal blunder for Corrigan, who by a little scheme of | |
his own, had proposed to get the model into his possession without any | |
difficulty. | |
"In McGlory's saloon!" repeated Deb, in amazement. "Why, Jack doesn't | |
drink." | |
"Oh, yes, he does--once in a while," replied Corrigan, glibly. | |
"You're mistaken!" returned Deb, sharply. "What does he want the model | |
for?" | |
She was growing a trifle suspicious. The article in question was | |
valuable, and just now doubly so. | |
"I don't know what he's going to do with it. Got it handy?" | |
Involuntarily Deb glanced over to where the model stood covered with a | |
cloth. She regretted the action an instant after, for Corrigan's eyes | |
watched her closely. | |
"How far is that saloon from here?" she asked. | |
"Only a few blocks." | |
"Queer he didn't come for it himself." | |
"He was too busy. He asked me to go for him, and sent this paper as an | |
order. He said you'd know all about it," replied Corrigan, and he | |
handed out the agreement he had stolen from Jack. | |
Deb recognized the paper at once. Jack must certainly have given it to | |
the man, and yet, for a reason she could not explain, she felt that all | |
was not right. | |
One thing she remembered; her brother had repeatedly cautioned her not | |
to let outsiders examine the model under any plea. To place it, | |
therefore, in a stranger's hands seemed a risk she did not care to | |
assume. | |
"What's the matter?" asked Corrigan, as Deb still hesitated. "Ain't it | |
all right?" | |
He was growing uneasy, fearful of being interrupted just at the moment | |
when the prize was almost within his grasp. | |
"I would rather have my brother come for it himself," said the girl | |
finally. | |
"He can't come; he's too busy," persisted the intruder. | |
"It wouldn't take long to get it if he is only a few blocks away." | |
"Yes, but he doesn't want to leave. He has a chance of selling it to a | |
man for big money, and he's afraid the man may back out if he leaves | |
him." | |
Deb was sorely perplexed. The man might be speaking the truth, in which | |
case she did not for the world wish Jack to lose the chance of striking | |
a bargain. | |
"So I'll take it right along at once," continued Corrigan, stepping over | |
to where the model stood. | |
But, at this instant, a bright idea came into the girl's head. She knew | |
that she could trust Mr. Snitzer, or one of his sons, and was sure that | |
any one of them would do her a favor willingly. | |
"You need not take so much trouble," she exclaimed, stepping between the | |
man and the model. "Just leave the address of the place, and I will send | |
it up at once." | |
This was a staggerer for Corrigan, and he knew not how to answer. | |
"No, I'll take it myself," he replied, roughly. | |
His words sent a dreadful chill to Deb's heart. In an instant she | |
realized the man's true object, and her own helpless condition. | |
"What do you mean?" she cried in terror. | |
"I mean that if you won't give me the model I'll take it." | |
The words had hardly been uttered before Deb gave a terrible scream. | |
"Stop your noise!" hissed Corrigan, jumping to her side, and clapping | |
his hand over her mouth. | |
The girl struggled to escape, but she was as a feather in this powerful | |
fellow's arms, and half fainting, she felt herself borne into the next | |
room, and the door locked upon her. | |
Then she heard Corrigan pick up the model, and hurry down the stairs and | |
out of the house. | |
CHAPTER IX. | |
MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE | |
"Help! Help!" | |
"Vas is dot?" exclaimed Mrs. Snitzer, who had been dozing in the rocking | |
chair awaiting her son's return. | |
"Sounds like some von vas in troubles," replied her husband, from the | |
sofa. | |
Both sprang to their feet and hurried to the door. | |
Mrs. Snitzer had scarcely opened it when a man rushed past her and out | |
of the front hall-way. | |
"Help! Help!" | |
"It vas Deb, for sure!" cried the German woman, and she ascended the | |
stairs as fast as her portly form would permit, closely followed by her | |
husband. | |
It took but a moment to pass through the kitchen and unlock the door of | |
the adjoining chamber. They found Deb half dead from fright, and vainly | |
endeavoring to escape. | |
"Oh, Mrs. Snitzer, a man has just stolen Jack's model!" gasped the poor | |
girl. "He ran down stairs." | |
"Ve saw him," put in Mr. Snitzer. "I go me after him," he continued, | |
hurrying off as rapidly as his legs would move. | |
"Oh, what will Jack say when he hears that it's gone!" moaned Deb. | |
"Tell me apout it," said the kindly German woman. | |
She took the excited girl in her arms, and stroking the soft, curly | |
hair, tried to calm Deb as best she could. | |
In a nervous voice the girl told her story. She was on the verge of | |
hysterics, and it was only Mrs. Snitzer's quick sense of comprehension | |
that enabled her fully to understand the situation. | |
In about ten minutes Mr. Snitzer returned. The look upon his face told | |
plainly that he had failed in the pursuit. | |
"It vas no use," he said, "I couldn't see nodding of him;" and he | |
dropped into a chair exhausted. | |
Deb's grief was hard to witness. It was bad enough to have Jack away, | |
but to have some one steal his precious model, the idea of his life, was | |
too dreadful to contemplate. | |
"I shall never get over it," she sobbed; "I ought to have been more | |
careful!" | |
Mrs. Snitzer let her cry it out. Experience had taught her that it | |
would do no good to check the flow of tears. She motioned her husband | |
to leave, while she herself made preparations to stay all night. | |
As the hours wore on Deb for a while forgot the model in her anxiety | |
concerning Jack's welfare. As long as she could remember, her brother | |
had never remained away over night, and whether by premonition or | |
otherwise, she was positive something dreadful had happened. | |
With the first break of day she was on the watch. She prepared no | |
breakfast, nor did she touch that which the German woman generously | |
offered. | |
Deb wandered up and down the street for two hours. | |
Still no Jack. | |
She visited the neighbors. Had this one seen him? No. Perhaps that | |
one had? Not since yesterday morning. | |
Suddenly she grew very pale, and with faltering steps approached the | |
jail. | |
The doorkeeper greeted her with evident surprise. | |
"What brings you here this morning?" he asked. | |
"My brother has been missing since last night," replied Deb, in a | |
choking voice, "and I thought that perhaps you had--had locked him up | |
again!" | |
"Why, no. Haven't seen him since he left," replied the man. "Missing, | |
eh!" He gave a low whistle, "Hope he hasn't jumped his bail." | |
"What do you mean?" | |
"Run away to escape trial." | |
"Jack wouldn't do that." | |
"Can't tell. Fellows do unexpected things sometimes. So you don't know | |
where he's gone?" | |
"No." | |
The doorkeeper reflected for a moment. | |
"Didn't he accuse somebody else of being the cause of the fire?" he | |
asked. | |
"Yes, sir; he was almost certain it was done by a man named Mosey." | |
"And I believe this Mosey couldn't be found?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Then maybe your brother has a clue, and is on the man's track." | |
This put the affair in a new light. | |
"Perhaps you are right," said Deb, slowly. | |
"Guess I am. Hope so, anyway." | |
"Thank you." | |
The girl breathed more freely when she got to the street. There was a | |
good deal of consolation in what the doorkeeper had said. | |
She walked over toward the tool works, and saw Mont at one of the | |
windows. A second later the young man came out with a packet of | |
letters. | |
"I've just finished what remained of the work," he said. "Now I won't | |
have hardly anything to do until we start up again." | |
He was surprised to learn that Jack had not yet put in his appearance. | |
"The doorkeeper must be right," he observed reflectively. "Who it was | |
though, that stole the model, I can't imagine. Tell you what I'll do. | |
I'll post these letters, and then walk out to that farmer's place and | |
find out what I can." | |
When Deb returned home she found a man and a boy in the hall, waiting | |
for her. | |
"Are you Miss Willington?" asked the man, politely. | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Then I'm sorry, but unless you are able to pay the rent that is due, I | |
have orders to put you out of the house." | |
Deb shrunk back in horror. | |
"Out of the house?" she repeated! | |
"Yes, ma'am, Mr. Hammerby served you with a three days' notice to quit, | |
I believe?" | |
"He did--two days ago." | |
"Three days----" | |
"No, only two." | |
"Will you please let me see the paper?" | |
"He dated it a day back," explained Deb. | |
The man shrugged his shoulders. | |
"If he did, you should have complained of it at the time. I am a | |
constable, and we people always go by the paper. I'm sorry to disturb | |
you." | |
"Where will you--you put us?" faltered the girl, with a white face. | |
"Set your goods in the street," was the matter-of-fact reply. The | |
constable was old in the service, and many cruel scenes had hardened his | |
heart. | |
"Into the street!" wailed the poor girl. | |
"That's what I said, unless, of course, you can raise the eight dollars | |
that's due." | |
"I haven't it now. But my brother expected to get fifty dollars from a | |
man for an interest in an invention of his." | |
"When?" | |
"To-day. But my brother is away." | |
"Can't you get it?" | |
"Perhaps I can," replied Deb, hesitatingly. "I'll try, anyway. Will you | |
wait till I come back?" | |
"Certainly," replied the constable, and he took a chair, and began to | |
read the morning paper that he had brought with him. | |
While Deb was getting ready for her urgent errand, there was a noise | |
outside, and Mr. Benton himself appeared. | |
"Where is your brother?" he demanded, without any preliminary | |
salutation. | |
"I don't know, sir," replied the girl, her breath almost taken away by | |
the suddenness of the question. | |
"They told me he was missing," continued the speculator. "I suppose | |
that you have the model safe?" | |
"No, sir. It was stolen last evening." | |
Deb began to cry again. Mr. Benton caught her arm roughly. | |
"I don't believe a word you say!" he exclaimed, in harsh tones. "It's | |
only a plot to do me out of my rights! But it won't work, understand | |
that, it won't work. Either you must produce the model, or else I'll | |
have you arrested for fraud!" | |
CHAPTER X. | |
DRIVEN FROM HOME | |
Deb looked at Mr. Benton in horror. It was only after several seconds | |
that she fully realized the terrible accusation which he had brought | |
against her. | |
"A plot!" she faltered. "What do you mean?" | |
"Only this," continued Mr. Benton, "your brother has run away to escape | |
trial, and he has taken the model with him. You have helped him to do | |
this. But it won't work. I pay my way, and a bargain's a bargain. If | |
I have to pay the thousand dollars, I'll have the model or I'll know the | |
reason why." | |
"But how do you know Jack has run away?" | |
"If he hasn't, where is he?" | |
"He went to a job in the country yesterday morning and hasn't returned | |
yet." | |
"And you expect me to believe that story?" sneered the speculator. | |
"It's the truth," replied Deb, bursting into tears. "I'm sure Jack will | |
come back. The model was stolen by a man who said my brother had sent | |
him for it." | |
"And are you positive that your brother did not send him for it?" | |
"Almost, sir, because the man ran away with it when I promised to send | |
it by some one else." | |
"Humph! Well, we'll see; I'll let the matter rest until to-morrow, and | |
then we'll have a settlement." | |
With these words Mr. Benton pulled his hat more tightly than usual over | |
his small, round head, and tripped down the stairs and out of the | |
building. | |
Deb's heart sank like a clod. Her last hope was gone. She had counted | |
on getting help from the speculator, and the result had been directly | |
the opposite. | |
"Rec'on you won't get anything out of him," was the constable's grim | |
comment. He had listened in silence to the brief interview, and now | |
arose to continue his disagreeable but necessary duty. | |
"Isn't there any way at all of having this thing stopped?" asked the | |
girl, bitterly. | |
"No; unless you get the money," was the man's reply, and pulling off his | |
coat, he took up a couple of chairs, and marched down stairs. | |
Deb jumped up and followed him. Her heart beat wildly, and something in | |
her throat nearly choked her. What could she do? Her thoughts ran to | |
Mrs. Snitzer. She knew the kind German woman needed money as much as | |
any of the tool works people did, but perhaps she could give some help, | |
or offer some advice. | |
She flew to the door of her neighbor's apartments, and knocked eagerly. | |
No answer came, and then she knocked more loudly than ever. | |
Suddenly she remembered that Mrs. Snitzer had signified her intention of | |
taking her whole family to her brother's farm for a few days, and | |
possibly until the end of the shut-down. | |
"It's no use, they're all gone!" she sighed. "There is no help to be | |
had!" | |
Meanwhile the constable worked rapidly. In his time he had been in | |
situations where the neighbors had interfered with him, and he wished to | |
get away as soon as possible. | |
Soon there was quite a respectable stock of furniture and other | |
household effects piled upon the sidewalk. Deb packed up the smaller | |
stuff as fast as she could--the china and crockery in baskets, and the | |
clothing and linen in the two old family trunks. Truth to admit, the | |
constable did not hurry her a bit more than he could help. | |
Presently Deb went below to see that no one should walk away with some | |
of their belongings. Her eyes were red and swollen, and a more wretched | |
girl could not have been found in all Corney. | |
As she sat down on one of the upturned wash tubs she wondered what she | |
was to do. She had no neighbors, and with the exception of the Snitzers | |
they were all strangers to her--they on their part deeming her "stuck | |
up," and perhaps rejoicing to see her placed in her present humiliating | |
position. | |
The wild hope of Jack's return came constantly to her mind, and twice | |
she ran down to the corner vainly straining her eyes to catch sight of | |
his well-known form. | |
"If I had only accepted Mont's aid," she thought, "I wonder where I | |
could find him?" | |
Presently the constable brought down the very last of the goods, and | |
locking up the rooms, went away. | |
"Why, Deb, I declare, I didn't know you were going to move. You didn't | |
say anything of it last Sunday. How lucky I came before you were gone! | |
or, perhaps, how unlucky to come when you are all upside down. Never | |
mind, go right ahead, and don't pay any attention to me. It's an awful | |
job, isn't it? I haven't experienced moving in ten years, but I | |
remember well that I didn't get straightened out for two months, and | |
then it took twice that long to get accustomed to the new place. Where | |
did you say you were moving to?" | |
And having thus delivered herself in one breath, the speaker, a | |
middle-aged lady, who wore blue glasses, and was slightly deaf, took | |
Deb's hand in a quick, nervous grasp, and peered into the care-worn | |
face. | |
"Oh, Miss Parks, we are not moving at all!" cried out the girl, laying | |
her head on her Sunday-school teacher's shoulder. | |
"Glad I called?" queried Miss Parks, misunderstanding her. "Well, now, | |
seeing things as they are, I didn't expect it. But, maybe I can help | |
you. I'm not overdressed, so just tell me what to do, and I'll go right | |
to work. Hasn't the truck-man come yet?" | |
"We--are--not--moving," repeated Deb, putting her mouth close to Miss | |
Parks's ear. | |
"No? Why--why--then something dreadful has happened, all your furniture | |
out here on the sidewalk, with the dust a-blowing on 'em. What is | |
it--fire? That's a dreadful thing. Even if things are not burned up, | |
the smoke gets in 'em, and you can't get it out." | |
"It isn't fire," returned the unhappy girl, "it's because we can't pay | |
the rent." | |
"Oh, dear!" Miss Parks was all sympathy at once. "I thought your | |
brother was doing pretty well now," she added. | |
"So he was. But the tool works have shut down, and we can't get a cent | |
from the bank." | |
The elderly maiden caught at the words. | |
"The bank! Isn't it awful. They wouldn't give me mine, yesterday, and | |
I wanted it the worst way, too. But tell me about your trouble." | |
In a few words, spoken as plainly as possible, Deb poured her tale into | |
the lady's ear. | |
"I heard about your brother being arrested for the fire," remarked Miss | |
Parks. "But I didn't believe it. Mr. Long says Jack is such a good | |
fellow, and such an excellent scholar." | |
"I'm glad you think so," burst out the girl. "Oh, Miss Parks, if people | |
only knew Jack as well as I do, they wouldn't say such horrid things | |
about him." | |
"Well, dear, we all have our trials, and must ask Him to help us bear | |
them," replied the elderly maiden, with sincere piety. "But about the | |
rent. How much is it?" | |
"Six dollars." | |
"Not much, truly. But it's more than I have, or I'd pay it in a minute. | |
Have you any money at all?" | |
"Not over three dollars." | |
Miss Parks drew out her pocketbook, and examined the contents. | |
"Just a dollar," she exclaimed. "I declare we are both poor, with money | |
in the bank, too." She paused a moment in deep thought. "I'll tell you | |
what you might do." | |
"What?" asked Deb, eagerly. | |
"Move your things down to my house. I'll let you have the back bedroom | |
and attic, and when you're settled we'll see what is to be done. Jack | |
will be back before a great while, I'm certain." | |
Miss Parks was entirely alone in the world. The house that she occupied | |
was her own, left her by an invalid uncle, whom she had nursed | |
constantly during the last four years of his life. She was a | |
dress-maker, and a lady's companion, and earned a fair living--a goodly | |
portion of which found its way to charity and the church--for she was a | |
devout Christian, and an earnest worker in the cause. | |
"Oh, thank you!" cried Deb, a heavy weight taken from her mind. "But | |
won't it be inconvenient for you?" | |
"Not a bit. In fact I think I'll enjoy company." | |
"Then I'll accept your offer," continued the girl, "And I think it is | |
real good of you to let me come." | |
Miss Parks bent down and kissed the tired cheeks. | |
"You're a good girl, Deb," she said. "You don't deserve such a trial as | |
this." | |
A little later a truckman was engaged who speedily transferred the | |
household goods to Deb's new home. | |
CHAPTER XI. | |
ON THE RIVER ROAD | |
Mont Gray hastened to the Corney postoffice with all possible speed. | |
For his own sake, as well as for Deb's he wished to dispatch his | |
business as quickly as possible, so as to devote the remainder of the | |
day to hunting up Jack. | |
He was afraid that something out of the ordinary had befallen his | |
friend. He had not wished to add to Deb's already deep anxiety, but he | |
knew Jack too well to imagine that the young machinist would willfully | |
keep his sister in ignorance of his whereabouts. | |
This feeling upon the young man's part might not have been so strong had | |
all other surroundings been more tranquil. But since the shut-down at | |
the tool works the air had been filled with murmurs of | |
dissatisfaction--augmented largely by the suspension of the bank, and | |
everywhere there prevailed a vague feeling that something was about to | |
happen. | |
One thing was certain. Not a single one of his employes were satisfied | |
with Mr. Felix Gray's management, and there were plenty of hot-headed | |
men who wished him joy over his burnt mansion. | |
It did not take Mont long to post the letters, and then he struck out at | |
once for the Farrell place. | |
It was a glorious morning, bright and clear, and when he reached the | |
Redrock road he found the birds singing as merrily as could be. | |
In spite of the unpleasant things that had happened, Mont felt | |
wonderfully light-hearted, the secret of which was that he was doing | |
something for Deb--a service which he knew she would appreciate, and one | |
which, therefore, he was more than willing to do. | |
As the young man walked along the river bank whistling cheerily to | |
himself he espied a man coming toward him. | |
A moment later he recognized the individual as Andy Mosey. | |
"Wonder what he is doing out here," said Mont to himself. "Perhaps the | |
prison keeper was right, and Jack is on his track--may be watching his | |
chance to get evidence to convict him." When the discovery took place | |
Mont was at a spot where the road ran close to the bank, and here he | |
waited for the Irishman to come up. | |
As Mosey approached, it was easy to see that he had been drinking | |
heavily. In truth it was but the continuance of his potations of the | |
previous day. | |
"He had better take care, or he'll go over the bank, sure," was the | |
young man's mental observation, as he watched the reeling form. | |
As Mosey drew nearer Mont noticed that his eyes were deeply sunken, and | |
that despite the drink, his face looked pale and haggard. | |
"Possibly he is worried over his wrongdoings," thought Mont, hitting | |
more truth than he imagined. "It's a pity such a strong fellow can't | |
keep from liquor." | |
The Irishman shuffled directly toward Mont, without apparently noticing | |
him. | |
"Hello," exclaimed the young man, sharply. "Where bound?" | |
The Irishman started up in surprise. | |
"Where you--hic--goin'?" he asked. | |
"I'm looking for Jack Willington. Have you seen him?" | |
Mosey gave a shudder. The remembrance of that awful scene in the old | |
mill still hung in his mind. | |
"No--hic--no," he answered hastily. "Oi haven't see the b'y for two | |
days," and he gave a lurch outward. | |
"Take care!" exclaimed Mont. "If you tumble over that bank you'll never | |
get out again." | |
The Irishman drew as far away as possible from the water. | |
"You're roight, Mont, me b'y," he mumbled. "It's sure death, and | |
no--hic--foolin'." | |
"So you're certain that you haven't seen Jack?" continued Mont. "He has | |
been out here I know." | |
The effect of his last words was a truly astonishing one. With a cry of | |
drunken rage, Mosey sprang toward him, his eyes blazing with fury. | |
"Ye can't come it over--hic--me!" he shouted. "Ye think ye're schmart, | |
but yo're left this--hic--toime." | |
"What do you mean?" ejaculated Mont. | |
The extraordinary change in the Irishman's manner nearly dumbfounded | |
him. | |
"Ye know well enough." | |
"Then you have seen him?" exclaimed the young man. "Oh, I see. He | |
knows a thing or two about you, and----" | |
"He don't know--hic--nothin',--now," hiccoughed the Irishman. The | |
liquor had muddled his brain. | |
"What!" gasped Mont, with a sudden sense of horror. "You--you----" he | |
began. | |
He was standing with his heels against a small rock that overhung the | |
bank. | |
"Ye can foind out fer--hic--yerself!" snarled Mosey, and with a quick | |
spring he gave the young man a push that sent him spinning over | |
backward. Mont tried to catch hold of the rock, but the smooth surface | |
slipped from under his hands. He grasped the small bushes--they came | |
out by the roots. He felt himself going down--down;--the glint of the | |
sunshine upon the water sparkled in his face and then? | |
[Illustration: WITH A QUICK SPRING HE GAVE THE YOUNG MAN A PUSH THAT | |
SENT HIM SPINNING OVER BACKWARD.] | |
Mosey got down flat on the rocks and crawling to the edge, peered over | |
the bank. He saw Mont's hat rise to the surface, and float swiftly | |
along with the bounding stream. | |
"He's gone!" he muttered, hoarsely, after waiting for further signs of | |
his victim. "Gone to the bottom!" | |
He crawled back to the middle of the road, and arose to his feet. | |
The awful occurrence had for the time sobered him, and he moved forward | |
without a stagger. | |
"Bad worruk Oi'm doin'!" he muttered to himself. "Phat will Dennis say?" | |
The thought of his brother-in-law's possible condemnation of his actions | |
made him shiver. He turned and slowly retraced his steps from whence he | |
had come. He had not quite reached the spot when Corrigan's voice | |
sounded in his ear. | |
"Where have you been?" he demanded. | |
"Oi thought Oi'd go to Corney, but Oi changed me moind," was Mosey's | |
reply. | |
"Good thing you did. They want you up there." | |
"Phat for?" | |
Mosey had stopped at the door, and now looked at his brother-in-law | |
sharply. | |
"Oh, for setting fire to Gray's house," said Corrigan, with a laugh. | |
"Oh, Oi thought----" the Irishman suddenly checked himself. "Say, Oi | |
didn't see ye on the road," he continued. | |
"I came up by the back way," replied Corrigan. | |
"Phy?" | |
Corrigan made no reply. To tell the truth, he did not wish Mosey to | |
know that he had stolen Jack's model, and that precious article was now | |
safely hidden in the loft of the mill. | |
"Phy don't ye answer me question?" continued Andy Mosey. | |
"Oh, I thought I'd try the other way for a change," said Corrigan, as | |
lightly as possible. "How is the young fellow?" he continued, changing | |
the subject. | |
"He's--he's gone," faltered Mosey. "He--he had a mishap, and fell into | |
the wather." | |
"Drowned?" | |
"Yes." | |
Corrigan gave a whistle of surprise. He was on the point of asking the | |
particulars, but suddenly changed his mind. | |
"Well, I'm glad he's out of the way," he declared. | |
Mosey walked into the mill, and sat down on a bench, the picture of fear | |
and misery. Corrigan did not pay any further attention to him, but went | |
upstairs and examined the model he had stolen. | |
"It is a beautiful piece of work!" was his mental comment, "and if I | |
only work it right I'll make a neat stake out of it!" he added as he hid | |
it away again. | |
CHAPTER XII. | |
JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION | |
Meanwhile how had Jack fared? | |
His last cry for help had been cut short by his plunge into the river. | |
With his hands still bound tightly behind him, he felt himself sink many | |
feet, and then a few seconds later he regained the surface, and shook | |
the water from his face. He found that the swiftly flowing tide had | |
carried him several rods from the old mill, and well out toward | |
mid-stream. | |
"I'm surely lost!" he said to himself with a shudder. "The falls are | |
not more than a quarter of a mile below, and when I reach there----" | |
A shiver finished the sentence. In time past he had heard of several | |
persons being carried over, and not one had lived to tell the story. | |
What hope was there then for him? | |
He remembered that half way to the falls the stream narrowed | |
considerably where the tide rushed with a roar that was deafening, and | |
there were several huge rocks. Perhaps, if he could gain one of these, | |
when morning came he might devise some means of escape. | |
He tried his best to slip off the cord from his wrists, which was the | |
same cord that had been fastened to his feet, and which now dragged a | |
considerable distance behind him. But the hemp was water soaked, and | |
cut into his flesh until it bled. | |
On and on he was carried. It seemed that every instant the speed | |
increased. It was useless to cry out--no one was near, even if indeed, | |
his voice should reach the shore. His mind was filled with countless | |
anxious thoughts. What would his friends think of his absence? What | |
would Mont say? What would Deb do if he was lost? | |
Thinking of his dear sister was more painful than aught else, and he | |
uttered a sincere prayer that his life might be spared, for her sake, if | |
not for his own. | |
Presently, through the gloom came the noise of the water as it washed | |
over and around the rocks below. | |
He lifted his head as high as possible, and strained his eyes to get a | |
view of the situation, but water and foam were alone in sight. | |
Nearer and nearer he was now drawing. The water bubbled all around. | |
Then like a flash a black object loomed to the right. | |
He struggled with all his power to gain it. Kicking and plunging, his | |
side struck a rock. | |
He tried to grasp it, but it slipped. Another and still another passed. | |
The water surged on all sides. | |
Suddenly his feet touched bottom. He threw himself with all his force | |
against the current. | |
"Now or never!" were his thoughts. "For home and Deb!" | |
He flung his body to one side where a sharp rock stuck out of the water | |
but a few inches, and, half turning, he threw his arm partly over it. | |
His feet were swept from under him, and as the cord upon his wrists | |
still refused to part, his shoulder was nearly dislocated by the strain | |
that was thus brought to bear. | |
Beside the sharp rock was another, and drawing a long breath, he | |
gradually worked his way until he lay flat upon its surface. | |
This new resting place was not more than seven feet in length by three | |
in width, yet to Jack it seemed a perfect island, so much more | |
preferable was it to the cold water of the stream. | |
The young machinist lay quiet for a long time. | |
He was utterly exhausted, and it was no easy task to recover the wind | |
that had been knocked out of him. | |
After a while, he turned over and sat up. He was afraid to try | |
standing, fearful of losing his footing. | |
In the semi-darkness he calculated that the rocks leading to either | |
shore were fully fifteen or twenty feet away--a distance which, in such | |
a place as this, was as bad as a mile, so far as reaching them was | |
concerned. | |
"If it was only a little lighter I might throw out the rope and catch | |
fast somewhere," he said to himself. "As it is, I suppose I'll have to | |
wait till morning." | |
But waiting was far from agreeable. Had he been sure of eventually | |
escaping, it would have been different, but the doubt of this rendered | |
his mind extremely uneasy. | |
Nearly an hour passed. It grew darker, and one by one the stars came | |
out. | |
Ceaselessly the water tumbled and roared, as if it knew not the meaning | |
of rest. | |
As we know, he had had but little sleep the night before, and now he was | |
fagged out. Several times his eyes closed and his head nodded, but he | |
always came to his senses. | |
"It will never do to go to sleep here?" he exclaimed. "Guess I'll try | |
shouting. It will keep me awake, if nothing else." | |
He used his lungs to their full capacity, yet his voice was no stronger | |
than the bleating of a lamb in a hurricane. | |
"No one will ever hear me," was his dismal comment, and then he stopped. | |
Another hour slowly passed. | |
To Jack it seemed like an age. He was getting benumbed by the cold | |
water, and his limbs were stiff and sore. How long would it last? How | |
long could it last? | |
Another hour! | |
It must surely be morning soon--he had been there certainly a full night | |
already. Why didn't it grow light? | |
His eyes closed for a moment--more from exhaustion than sleep--and then | |
they closed again. | |
Why, what was this? | |
Here he was safe at home! There was the supper table waiting, and Deb, | |
in her neat, white apron, pouring out the tea! Now they sat down | |
together and began to eat, when, hold up--there was a fire somewhere. | |
Was it in their home? Yes, it must be for the fireman was at the window | |
with a hose--and it was Mr. Gray! The water struck Jack in the ear. | |
"Help! help! I----" | |
The young machinist awoke in horror. He had slipped from the rock, and | |
was again being madly whirled down the stream! | |
Oh! the agony of that moment! Why had he allowed himself to fall | |
asleep? | |
Nothing but certain death now stared him in the face! | |
In the dim dawn he looked ahead and saw the line of white that marked | |
the last of the breakwater above the awful descent. | |
"I'm gone, sure!" he sighed. "Good-by to home and Deb!" | |
On he swept with ever-increasing speed. The lofty brink was only a | |
hundred feet away--now it was seventy-five--now fifty! | |
With a terrible cry he flung himself back, as if to ward off that which | |
was inevitable. | |
Stop--what was this? The cord that was dragging behind him tightened; | |
it grew tighter still--it stopped his progress! | |
"If it only holds!" was his one thought. | |
He waited, and looked back to see how the hemp had become fastened, but | |
the surface of the water was without a break. | |
It held, and as it gradually tightened more and more, there slowly arose | |
to the top, the limb of a huge tree that had probably been carried down | |
the stream by the spring freshet. | |
The knot at the end of the rope had dragged itself fast in a notch | |
between two of the smaller branches, and before it could loose itself, | |
Jack caught the larger branch, and locked his feet tightly around it. | |
His weight threw the tree still more on its side, and this placed him | |
high and dry several feet above the surface, and about a rod above the | |
falls! | |
The position was a terrifying one. It made him dizzy to look at the | |
boiling water as it fell, and the vortex below was awful to contemplate. | |
"I suppose this tree won't stick fast forever," he thought, "and even if | |
it does, how can I ever hope to reach shore from here?" | |
How long he remained in this trying position, with life on one side, and | |
death on the other, Jack never knew. He clung fast as never before, and | |
to secure himself still further, tied the rope fast to the tree and to | |
his own body. | |
It was now broad daylight. Surely some one passing on either shore | |
would see and assist him. | |
But hour after hour dragged along, and no one came. It was getting | |
toward noon, and the sun sent a glare all over the sparkling water. | |
What was this dark object that was floating so rapidly toward him? | |
A man! | |
The young machinist uttered an exclamation. The body came within his | |
reach, and leaning over, he stayed its progress. | |
[Illustration: THE BODY CAME WITHIN HIS REACH, AND LEANING OVER, HE | |
STAYED ITS PROGRESS] | |
The form was limp and motionless, the eyes closed. | |
Jack turned it over. | |
"Mont Gray!" he shrieked. "Oh, Mont, Mont, are you dead?" | |
CHAPTER XIII. | |
OVER THE FALLS | |
Jack was never so amazed in his life as when he discovered that the | |
pale, senseless form that he had dragged upon the tree beside him was no | |
less a person than his friend, Mont Gray. But at that moment, he did | |
not stop to question how the young man had gotten into a position | |
similar to his own. His one thought was whether or not his friend was | |
alive. | |
He placed the body as comfortably as possible on the fork of the tree, | |
and then watched eagerly for some sign of life. | |
There was a cut upon Mont's brow, and presently a few drops of blood | |
oozed from the wound, and trickled down his cheek. | |
Jack took this as a good sign, and he was not mistaken, for a few | |
seconds later the young man gave a deep sigh, and slowly opened his | |
eyes. | |
"Where am I?" he asked, faintly. | |
"Here with me, Mont," replied the young machinist, bending over him. | |
"Don't you know me?" | |
"Jack!" was the low response. "Oh, how my head hurts! Where are we?" | |
"On the river." | |
"We are?" Mont attempted to rise, but Jack pushed him back. "Oh, I | |
remember now!" he continued, shuddering. | |
"Remember what?" asked the young machinist, eagerly. | |
"The push Mosey gave me over the bank. My head struck a rock, and I | |
don't know what happened after that. Where did you say we are?" | |
"In the middle of the river, just above the falls." | |
"How in the world did we get here? Oh, I see! You came out to rescue | |
me!" | |
"No, I didn't. Mosey pitched me from the old mill last night, and I've | |
been in the water ever since. I saw your body floating along, and | |
without knowing who it was, caught hold and landed you here." | |
"You've saved my life," exclaimed Mont, fervently. "I'll never forget | |
that, Jack!" | |
"I don't know whether I've saved your life or not," returned the young | |
machinist, seriously. "It depends on whether we can reach shore or not; | |
we are close to the falls, and liable to go over at any minute." | |
Mont pulled himself to a sitting position. | |
"Better take care!" cried Jack, "or you'll fall off. I am tied fast, | |
and you are not. Here, take this end of the rope and bind yourself." | |
"Never mind. I'm all right now," replied the young man, as he viewed | |
the situation. "It is a tight scrape, and no mistake," he added. | |
"Wonder how this tree is wedged fast? Must be between the rocks." | |
"Yes, and it won't hold fast forever," returned Jack. | |
"We must reach shore, if possible, without delay." | |
"Easier said than done. Now if we had a rope----" | |
"Will this do?" | |
"No; it isn't long enough. Hello! something's giving way already!" | |
At that instant the trunk of the tree quivered, and moved a foot or so | |
nearer the falls. | |
"Hold fast for your life!" Jack called; "perhaps it has broken loose!" | |
He had hardly uttered the words before the tree snapped its fastenings | |
and swept toward the falls. | |
"Give me your hand, Mont," continued Jack, in a loud voice, seeing that | |
his friend could not secure a good hold. | |
But before the young man could comply the tree turned over, and both | |
were immersed. | |
In another instant, the willow, for such it was, had reached the brink. | |
Here it hesitated for a moment, and then with a sharp sound it dove over | |
the madly boiling mass into the maelstrom below! | |
The noise was terrific. Jack held on, closing his eyes, and forgetting | |
everything. | |
He felt himself go down, down--and still further. The water rang in his | |
ears, and many colors flickered in his mind's eye. The pressure from | |
above was tremendous. | |
Ten seconds passed. He felt his senses leaving him. Mont's body bumped | |
against him, and unconsciously he threw his own body partly around that | |
of his friend. | |
Then all became a dim, dark uncertainty. The willow did not remain | |
under the falls long. The rush of water soon forced it out into the | |
stream below, and once there, it shot along, bearing upon its topmost | |
branches two human bodies. | |
It drifted in mid-stream, gradually diminishing its speed, until an | |
island stopped its further progress. | |
It struck upon a sandy shore, and the upper end swung gently around, | |
catching fast in some overhanging bushes. | |
The bright sun shone down upon the scene as tranquilly as ever. Its | |
warm rays apparently revived Jack, for, with a deep shudder--like one | |
awakening from a horrible dream--the young machinist opened his eyes and | |
endeavored to take in the situation. | |
He felt as if he had been pulled and beaten until not a spot was left in | |
his body that did not ache. The rope was gone from his wrists, hands and | |
face were cut, and his clothing was torn in a dozen places. | |
Yet he did not mind all this. He had a certain sense of security--a | |
knowledge that he had passed through a great peril in safety--that more | |
than outbalanced his present sufferings. | |
Suddenly he thought of Mont. He started up to discover his friend lying | |
near, his face deadly white, and his head hanging over the branch like a | |
lump of lead. | |
Jack saw that they were close to shore--where, he did not know nor care, | |
and gathering all his remaining strength, he clasped Mont in his arms, | |
and made a leap for solid ground. | |
He reached the shore, deposited his friend's body on the grass, and | |
then, unable longer to stand, sank down beside the young man. | |
The moments dragged wearily along. Jack felt himself growing stronger, | |
and by pure grit he arose and turned all his attention to Mont. | |
"Looks as if he was dead!" was the young machinist's awful thought. "I | |
never saw a drowned man, but he is fearfully quiet. Yet, if there's a | |
spark of life left in him, I'll fan it up if I kill myself doing it." | |
He knelt down, and taking off Mont's coat, unloosened his collar. Then | |
he rolled him on his back, raising the lower part of the body as high as | |
possible, which caused the water to run from Mont's mouth in a stream. | |
After this he moved his friend's arms backward and forward to induce | |
respiration, and was rewarded presently by seeing the young man give a | |
gulp and a gasp for breath. | |
"Thank heaven for that!" ejaculated Jack. "It's a good sign," and with | |
strengthened hopes he continued his efforts. | |
It was fully half an hour before Mont came to himself and sat up. He, | |
too, was bewildered at the situation. | |
"Where are we?" he asked, after a long silence, in which both sought to | |
regain their strength. | |
"I think we are on Blackbird Island," replied Jack, slowly. "That is | |
just below the falls, you know." | |
"Did we drift here?" | |
"I suppose so. I don't know any more than you. I came to my senses on | |
the tree only a little while ago." | |
Mont rolled over on his back and drew a long breath. | |
"I'm tremendously tired," he explained. "Do you know anything of this | |
place?" | |
"I have often heard of it, but was never here before. I wonder if | |
anyone lives here?" | |
"Don't know. It looks rather wild." | |
"Tell you what we'll do," said Jack. "We'll rest here in the sun for a | |
while and let our clothes dry, and then explore the place and see what | |
means we can find of reaching the mainland." | |
Mont agreed, and making themselves as comfortable as possible, the two | |
boys rested for over an hour, each in the meantime relating to the other | |
his experience. | |
"Mosey is a bad egg," was Mont's conclusion; "I suppose he thinks that | |
he has sent us both to our death," and then he told Jack about the | |
stolen model. | |
The young machinist was much worried. | |
"It must have been Corrigan," he said, as he arose, and put on his coat. | |
"I wonder what he expects to do with such booty?" | |
"Sell it if he can," replied the young man. "Hello!" he exclaimed, as he | |
happened to glance up. "Here comes some one. A girl, I declare! What | |
is she doing in this wilderness?" | |
CHAPTER XIV. | |
MAX POOLER'S MEG. | |
The girl who approached was a tall, gaunt creature, certainly not over | |
ten years of age, yet with a knowing look of worldly experience in her | |
pinched face and furtive black eyes. | |
She was sparingly dressed in an ill-fitting calico gown of ancient | |
pattern. Her feet were bare and on her head rested a dilapidated | |
sunbonnet. She carried a large pail on one arm, and made her way to a | |
gushing spring but a few feet away from where Jack and Mont were | |
reclining. | |
She started back in surprise upon seeing the pair, and as they sprang to | |
their feet she made a hasty move as if to retreat. | |
"Don't run away, please," called out Jack. "We won't hurt you." | |
Thus reassured, the overgrown child--for she was naught else--stopped | |
short, shyly swinging the empty pail from one hand to the other. | |
"Who're you?" she asked abruptly, as the young machinist came up. | |
"I'm Jack Willington, and this is my friend, Mont Gray." | |
"How'd you come here?" was the second question, asked as abruptly as the | |
first. | |
"We had the misfortune to be carried over the falls," replied Jack. | |
The girl tossed her pretty, but by no means clean nose, in the air. | |
"Them falls?" she asked, pointing her long, thin finger to the mighty | |
volume of water up the river. | |
"Yes." | |
She gave a contemptuous snicker. | |
"You can't stuff no such stories down me!" she ejaculated. "Them falls! | |
You couldn't live a minnit in 'em! Think I believe such lies?" | |
"It's the truth, whether you believe it or not," put in Mont, "We were | |
on that tree"--he pointed it out--"and that saved us. See, our clothes | |
are still wet." | |
The girl was silent, more convinced by their genteel appearance, than by | |
what was said, that she was being told the truth. | |
"What is your name?" asked Jack, curiously. He had never met such a | |
unique character before. | |
"Meg," was the laconic reply. | |
"Meg? Meg what?" | |
"No, not Meg what; only Meg." | |
"But what is your other name?" | |
"Hain't got none." | |
"Oh, but you must have," put in Mont. He, too, was becoming interested. | |
"Never did--leastwise, never knowed it, anyway," and Meg grew sober for | |
a moment. | |
"Do you live here?" asked Jack. | |
"Yep." | |
"Alone?" | |
"Nope. I live with Mr. Pooler." | |
"Who is he?" | |
The girl eyed the young machinist in surprise. | |
"Why, I thought everybody knew him," she said. "He's the man who owns | |
this island." | |
"What, the whole of it?" exclaimed Mont, in astonishment. | |
"Yep." | |
"And you live here with him?" continued Jack. | |
"Yep. Have always." | |
"Any one else here besides you and him?" | |
"Not now. His wife used to, but she died last winter." | |
"I suppose you keep house for him?" | |
"Yep." | |
A faint smile accompanied the monosyllable this time. | |
"It's rather hard work for a girl like you," Jack remarked. | |
Meg tossed back her head. | |
"Hard! 'Tain't nothing; cookin' and cleanin' ain't. It's garden work | |
that's tough. Look at them hands." She dropped the pail and held them | |
up. "Been blistered lots of times hoein' and diggin'." | |
"It's too bad," cried the young machinist, indignantly. "It ain't fair | |
to make you work like a slave." | |
"What would you do if you was me?" asked the girl, with a hungry, | |
searching look in her eyes. | |
For a moment Jack was nonplused. | |
"I don't know," he replied, slowly; "I might, though, if I thought over | |
it. Are you a relative of his?" | |
"Not's I know." | |
"How long have you been here?" | |
"Ever since I can remember. I didn't mind it so much when Mrs. Pooler | |
was alive, but since she died I hate it;" and Meg grated her teeth | |
tightly together. | |
"Where is the house?" asked Mont. | |
"Over yonder, through the trees." | |
"Do you think you can get us something to eat?" continued the young man. | |
"We have been out since yesterday, and I'm as hungry as a stray dog." | |
The girl hesitated. | |
"We will pay you for it," Mont went on, feeling for his purse, which, | |
luckily, still remained in his pocket. | |
"Guess I can," said Meg, finally. "Pooler ain't home; he went to the | |
mainland this morning. Did you really go over them falls?" she | |
continued, jerking her thumb in the direction. | |
[Illustration: "DID YOU REALLY GO OVER THEM FALLS?" SHE CONTINUED, | |
JERKING HER THUMB IN THE DIRECTION.] | |
"Yes, indeed we did. It was a terrible experience," replied the young | |
man with a shudder. | |
"Must be. Never heard of 'em comin' out alive--'em as goes over, I | |
mean." | |
"We are not anxious to try it again," Jack put in. | |
The "house" consisted of a dilapidated cottage of two rooms and an | |
attic, almost wholly covered by grape vines. Meg led the way around to | |
the back, and motioned them to a bench under a big tree. | |
"Better stay out here. It's cooler and nicer," she said. "I'll fetch a | |
table;" and in a few seconds she had done so, and placed it before them. | |
"Don't take too much trouble," said Mont; "we are hungry enough to | |
tackle almost anything." | |
"'Tain't no trouble--leastwise, not if there's money in it. Pooler | |
worships money." | |
"Is he rich?" asked Jack. | |
"Don't ask me!" replied Meg. "I've often heard the men say he was rich, | |
but I never see any money." | |
"Doesn't he give you any?" | |
"Not a cent. Say, how will coffee and bread, with some pickerel do? I | |
can get them ready in a few minutes." | |
"First-rate," replied Mont. | |
"Then just wait;" and Meg disappeared within the cottage. | |
"Quite a smart lass," remarked Jack when they were alone. | |
"Awfully wild, though," returned Mont; "I would like to see this Pooler. | |
Something runs in my mind concerning him--I can't exactly tell what." | |
"I shouldn't wonder but what he misuses that girl awfully," added Jack, | |
with a shake of his head. | |
It was not long before Meg returned with quite a substantial meal for | |
both. She set the things before them, and then stood by, ready for | |
further orders. | |
"What does Mr. Pooler do for a living?" asked Mont, while eating. | |
"Nothin' 'cept run his farm here," replied the girl. "He's gettin' | |
kinder old." | |
"He is a farmer, then?" | |
"Yep. That is, now. He used to work in the tool works at Corney." | |
"He did?" exclaimed Mont, with interest. "I work there. How long ago | |
was this?" | |
"I don't know exactly. I heard Mosey and him talkin' 'bout it." | |
Jack dropped his knife and fork in astonishment. | |
"Whom did you say?" he ejaculated. | |
"Mosey," repeated Meg. "Do you know him?" | |
"I think I do. Is his first name Andy?" | |
"Yep." | |
"Well, I'm stumped!" declared the young machinist. "Yes, I know him," he | |
continued bitterly. "And he'll know me, too, when we meet again." | |
Jack meant all his manner implied. His blood boiled at the thought of | |
the Irishman, and the cowardly treatment he had received at the mill. | |
"Does Mosey come here often?" he asked. | |
"Not lately. He used to, him and two or three more. But I oughten to | |
tell you all this! Pooler'll beat me if he finds it out." | |
"Not if I'm around!" replied Jack, stoutly. "But we will not mention | |
what you have told us." | |
"Wish you wouldn't. But I don't care anyhow; I'm gettin' tired, and | |
sha'n't stay much longer." | |
"What will you do?" asked Mont. | |
"Run away," was the quick reply. | |
"Where to?" | |
"I don't know, and I don't care, either. Any place is as good as this, | |
I reckon." | |
"Perhaps you can find some sort of a home in Corney," suggested the | |
young machinist. "You seem to be quite handy. I will help you if I | |
can." | |
"And so will I," put in Mont. | |
"I could do better if I had half a chance," asserted Meg, tapping the | |
ground with her foot. | |
"May I ask what other men visit Mr. Pooler?" inquired the young man, | |
after a pause. | |
"A man by the name of Corrigan sometimes comes with Mosey." | |
"Corrigan!" | |
Jack and Mont uttered the name together. Here was certainly news. Yet | |
they never dreamt of what was coming. | |
"Any one else?" asked Jack. | |
"A man used to come sometimes at night. Pooler thought I never saw him, | |
but I did--and heard who he was, too." | |
"What was his name?" asked Mont, with just the slightest tremor in his | |
voice. | |
"Mr. Gray--Felix, Pooler called him." | |
Mont looked at Jack in deep perplexity. | |
"There is surely a mystery here," he said. | |
"You are right," returned the young machinist; "and who knows but what | |
it may concern both of us?" | |
At this juncture Meg uttered an exclamation. | |
"There's a boat comin' over!" she cried. "I guess it's Pooler gettin' | |
back!" | |
CHAPTER XV. | |
THE MISER OF THE ISLAND | |
Meg's conjecture was correct. It was Mr. Max Pooler who was the sole | |
occupant of the rowboat that was fast approaching the island. | |
He pulled a quick stroke, and two minutes brought him to the shore, | |
where, beaching his craft, he jumped out, and walked rapidly toward the | |
cottage. | |
He was a thin, sallow-complexioned man, with a low forehead and sunken | |
gray eyes. The expression upon his face, especially around his mouth, | |
was a pinched and hard one. | |
He viewed Jack and Mont in surprise, not unmixed with disapproval, and | |
turned to the girl for an explanation. | |
"How is this, Meg?" he asked, in a shrill, disagreeable tone of voice. | |
"Whom have you here?" | |
"Two young men that drifted over the falls," replied the girl, who was | |
somewhat startled by his sudden coming. "I found 'em down by the | |
spring, all tuckered out." | |
"Over the falls!" Max Pooler's face showed his incredulity. "Never | |
heard of it afore! When did it happen?" | |
"We can't tell exactly," replied Jack. "We became unconscious, and came | |
to about an hour or so ago." | |
"Humph!" The master of the island glanced at the table, where a good | |
portion of the food still remained. "Pretty good dinner you're givin' | |
'em, Meg," he continued. | |
The girl was silent. She evidently did not like Max Pooler's remark, | |
and stood biting her finger nails in vexation. | |
"We are willing to pay for what we've had," broke in Mont. "We were so | |
hungry that we couldn't wait till we got back to town, and so persuaded | |
this--this young lady to provide something for us." | |
Max Pooler looked relieved. | |
"Ah, that's all right then," he said, rubbing his hands together in | |
satisfaction. "Pay for what you get and owe no man, has always been my | |
motto, and I find it a very excellent one, too. Tell me something of | |
your adventures. And, by the way, is there anything else you wish?" | |
"No, I'm done," replied the young machinist. | |
He was thoroughly disgusted with the man's mean manner, though he did | |
not object to paying for what they had had. | |
But Mont entered readily into conversation. He had eyed Max Pooler | |
keenly from his arrival, and noticed every action of the man. He | |
briefly related the particulars of what had happened on the river. For | |
obvious reasons he did not mention how either Jack or he had fallen into | |
such a position, nor did he mention any names. | |
"Awful! terrible! truly remarkable!" were Max Pooler's comments. "But | |
did you see 'em?" he continued, in a tragic whisper. | |
"See whom?" asked Jack, who was somewhat taken back by this sudden | |
change in the man's manner. | |
"Why, the ghost in the falls," replied Max Pooler, earnestly, "It is the | |
spirit of a man who went over one night." | |
Jack laughed. | |
"We did not see it," he replied. "Besides, I don't believe in them." | |
"Oh, but this is a ghost sure, I've seen him myself many a time in the | |
moonlight." | |
"Maybe you saw the man go over, and imagined the rest," suggested Mont. | |
"Did you know him?" | |
"Oh, no!" replied Max Pooler, starting. "No, indeed, I only heard it | |
was so. But the ghost is there. Sometimes it comes on the island!" | |
"The man must be a little off on this subject," thought Jack, as he | |
watched Max Pooler's manner. | |
"I guess there is too much water here to allow of any spirits," said | |
Mont, by way of a joke. | |
"Never mind, I know what I know," replied Max Pooler, with a shake of | |
his head. "You were mighty lucky to get through safely." | |
"I'll admit that," returned Jack, rising from the table. | |
Mont also arose, and looked first at the man and then at the girl. | |
"If you tell me what we owe you, I'll pay it," he said. | |
Meg was silent. Had she had her own way she would have charged nothing. | |
"Everything considered, I guess it's worth a quarter apiece," said Max | |
Pooler. "Provisions are frightfully high." | |
"I'm well satisfied," replied Mont; and taking out his purse, he | |
withdrew a half dollar, and handed it over. "I am very much obliged to | |
you," he added to Meg. | |
Max Pooler's eyes sparkled as they rested upon the shining silver. He | |
grasped the coin eagerly, and after examining it, stowed it carefully | |
away in his bosom. | |
There was a pause. Now that he had their money, the owner of the island | |
was evidently anxious to have them take their departure. Both Jack and | |
Mont wished to see more of this old man, but neither could frame a | |
plausible excuse for remaining. | |
"I suppose your friends will be anxious 'bout you," remarked Max Pooler, | |
by way of helping them off. | |
Jack's thoughts instantly reverted to Deb, and he said no doubt they | |
would. | |
"But we have no boat," he added, suddenly. "Can you lend us one?" | |
"Only got the one I use," replied the old man, shortly. | |
"I can take 'em over," put in Meg, eagerly. "'T won't take long." | |
"We will pay you for the use of the boat," added Jack. | |
The mention of pay immediately altered the matter in Max Pooler's eyes. | |
"I'll do it for another quarter," he said. "Times are hard and one must | |
make his living." | |
Jack made no reply. The closeness of the man disgusted him, and he paid | |
the amount without a word. | |
Meg led the way toward the beach. Their backs were scarcely turned | |
before Max Pooler disappeared in the cottage. | |
"The mean miser," burst out the girl, when they were beyond hearing, | |
"He's itchin' to put that seventy-five cents along with the rest of his | |
money! Hope you don't blame me for what he's done. Wouldn't have cost | |
you a cent if I'd have had my way!" | |
"We were very thankful to get something," said Mont, "and were perfectly | |
willing to pay for it, too." | |
Jack was silent. He half wished that Meg, interesting as she was, was | |
not present. He wished to talk with his friend over the odd news that | |
the last half hour had brought them. He was half inclined to question | |
the young girl further, but did not wish to excite her suspicion, and | |
was diplomatic enough not to get at it excepting in the direct way. | |
Of one thing he was certain; there was a good deal below the surface | |
that did not yet show, and he determined that he would not drop the | |
matter until he had learned what it was. | |
"Did you ever hear of a wrecked yacht around here?" suddenly asked Mont | |
of Meg. | |
"Nope--that is," she hesitated. "What makes you ask that?" | |
"Oh, I only wanted to know," replied the young man, apparently | |
unconcerned. | |
"Pooler said I was never to speak of it," returned Meg. "He thinks I | |
don't know where it is, but I do." | |
"Show it to us, will you?" asked Mont, eagerly. | |
Meg shrank back. | |
"It's haunted!" she exclaimed. "Besides, Pooler would kill me if he | |
found it out." | |
"We'll never tell him, will we, Jack?" | |
"Certainly not," replied the young machinist, to whom this new move was | |
only another mystery. | |
"Besides, we intend to be your friends, you know," continued Mont. | |
"Well, then, come on," replied Meg, finally. "I don't care if he likes | |
it or not. 'Taint a very nice place though." | |
"Never mind. We can't find any worse or more dangerous places than we | |
have already gone through." | |
Meg picked her way along one bank of the island for nearly a quarter of | |
a mile. Jack and Mont followed closely. | |
The ground was covered with a rank growth of reeds and rushes, and in | |
many places was damp and slippery. | |
At last they reached a deep cave that ran directly between a cluster of | |
twisted and bending willows. The spot was at the upper end of the | |
island, and in full view of the falls. | |
Here, half hidden by the tall, undergrowth, rested the hull of a | |
dismantled yacht, bearing upon her weather-beaten stern the | |
half-obliterated name: | |
"KITTY." | |
CHAPTER XVI. | |
ON BOARD THE "KITTY" | |
"Hello!" exclaimed Jack, in astonishment. "I never knew such large craft | |
came here." | |
"It's really haunted," replied Meg. "Mustn't go near it." | |
The young machinist laughed. | |
"Seems to me everything is haunted around here," he said, "Were you ever | |
on board?" | |
"Nope, Pooler would kill me if I went. He's terrible when he's mad;" | |
and Meg shook her head as the memory of past trials arose in her mind. | |
Meanwhile Mont had gone on ahead, and now, not without some difficulty, | |
reached the deck of the stranded vessel. Jack followed him, leaving the | |
girl behind. | |
"Don't be long, please," called out Meg; "I don't like to stay here, and | |
besides, I've got to get back, you know." | |
"We will stay only a few minutes," replied the young machinist. | |
Mont had walked aft, and picking his way over the odds and ends that | |
littered the deck, Jack joined him. | |
"Jack, do you know what I believe?" asked the young man, when they were | |
out of Meg's hearing. | |
"What?" | |
"I believe that this yacht was once my father's," replied Mont, | |
earnestly. "His was named the Kitty, and was last seen on this river, | |
above Corney. He used it to cruise around the lakes in." | |
"Yes, but that was above the falls," returned Jack. "You don't | |
mean----" he began. | |
"Yes, I do. The water was higher years ago, and I'm convinced that his | |
boat was caught in the stream and went over the falls." | |
Jack stepped back in astonishment. | |
"But he could never live through it," he cried. | |
"He was never seen after that," returned the young man, gravely, "Yet we | |
came out alive," he added. "If he was on the boat he might have | |
escaped." | |
Mont led the way carefully down the half-rotten companion way into the | |
cabin below. | |
There the air was foul and stifling. It was totally dark, but Jack | |
stumbled around until he found a small window and threw open a shutter. | |
A curious sight met their gaze. The place looked as if it had been left | |
immediately after a struggle, although this might have been caused by a | |
violent movement of the craft. A big armchair lay upset in one corner, | |
with a pile of books in another. On the table lay a pile of written and | |
printed papers, some of which had been swept to the floor, and were | |
covered with the ink from an upturned bottle, which, however, had dried | |
years before. Dust, mold and cobwebs were everywhere. | |
Jack picked up some of the written matter and brushing off the dust | |
tried to read it. | |
"It seems to be an agreement," he said to Mont, who was looking over his | |
shoulder. "An agreement about an invention, that----" | |
"It is my father's handwriting!" exclaimed the young man, in an | |
unnatural voice; "I could tell it in a thousand." | |
Jack turned the document over. | |
"I guess you're right," he said. "It seems to relate to some | |
improvement in making tools." He looked at the title. "Gracious me!" | |
"What is it?" cried Mont. | |
"It is drawn up between the Gray Brothers of the first part, and Martin | |
Willington of the second!" | |
"And Martin Willington----" began the young man. | |
"Martin Willington was my father!" ejaculated the young machinist, in | |
great surprise. | |
At that instant both heard Meg's voice calling loudly. | |
"Better clear out. Here comes Pooler, and that Andy Mosey is with him!" | |
Jack and Mont were startled by the unexpected cry from Meg. Both were | |
thoroughly absorbed in the document which the former had picked up from | |
the floor, and for an instant neither caught the full meaning of the | |
girl's announcement. | |
"Andy Mosey!" repeated the young machinist, looking up from the agitated | |
reading of that faded manuscript. "How in the world did he get here?" | |
"Heaven only knows!" ejaculated Mont. "Affairs seem to be all mixed, | |
and I give it up. One thing is certain: he and Pooler are close | |
friends." | |
"Or else have a mutual interest at stake," was Jack's comment. "Just as | |
we two seem to have here," he continued, folding up the paper and | |
putting it in an inside pocket. | |
"You're right. But what brings Mosey up to this end of the island?" | |
"Perhaps he thinks to find one or both of our bodies," suggested the | |
young machinist. | |
"Did you hear me?" called out Meg again. "Pooler and Mosey are comin', | |
and they've both got guns! Better skip out!" | |
Meg's language was forcible even if not well chosen. In her anxiety to | |
do her two friends a good turn, she had overcome her dread of the | |
so-styled haunted craft, and approached to within a few feet of the | |
side, so that her shrill voice sounded plainly. | |
"It's a shame to leave these things here," said Mont, as he too, stuffed | |
several papers in his pockets. "This boat was undoubtedly my father's | |
property, and I believe I'm entitled to whatever is here." | |
"Certainly you are," replied Jack. "As it is, I intend to come back | |
myself. But we can't do much, now, and if those two men see us they may | |
make it very unpleasant, to say the least." | |
"Wish we were armed. This is the first chance I have ever had of | |
learning the true state of my father's affairs, and how he died, and I | |
don't want to leave until I have sifted the matter thoroughly." | |
Mont was already on the companionway, and Jack quickly followed him. | |
"It's queer that Pooler should know that this stranded boat is here, and | |
yet not touch a thing on board," remarked the young machinist. "He | |
seems to be so close, it's a wonder he hasn't carried all the stuff | |
away." | |
"You don't remember that he thinks this is haunted," replied Mont. | |
Jack laughed. | |
"Do you believe that yarn?" he asked. | |
"Not altogether; yet the man is certainly a strange fellow." | |
Meg was eagerly awaiting them on the shore. | |
"I don't see Mosey and Pooler," said Jack, as he stepped to the rail and | |
looked over. | |
"They're comin' through the woods," explained the young girl, hurriedly; | |
"I just saw 'em through the clearing ahead." | |
"What brings them here?" asked Mont. | |
"Don't know. Pooler comes only once in a great while, and I never knew | |
that Mosey to go anywhere but to the cottage." | |
"Well, what shall we do?" asked the young man, turning to Jack. | |
"Better get out of his way," suggested Meg. "He's a wicked man when he's | |
mad, and he'll be the maddest man in the district if he catches you two | |
on this boat." | |
"Suppose we go below and hide," replied the young machinist. "It ought | |
to be an easy thing to do so on such a craft as this." | |
"Just the idea!" exclaimed Mont. "How slow of me not to think of it." | |
"But how about the girl?" | |
"Ain't you goin'?" asked Meg impatiently. | |
"No; we intend to hide on board," replied Jack. "We were just thinking | |
about you. I hope you won't tell Mr. Pooler where we are?" | |
"Not unless you want me to." | |
"Which we certainly do not." | |
"Suppose you go back to the boat, and get it ready," replied the young | |
machinist after a moment's thought. "We may wish to leave in a hurry." | |
"All right." | |
"I can trust you?" he added, with a smile. | |
"Trust me? Just you try me, that's all!" and with a toss of her head, | |
Meg darted away into the bushes, and was lost to sight. | |
At the same instant Mont caught hold of Jack and dragged him behind the | |
cabin. | |
"I just saw Mosey and this Pooler through those trees yonder!" he | |
exclaimed. "They'll be here in another moment!" | |
"Let's go below at once. We want to get the 'lay of the land,' and | |
secure the best place we can," returned the young machinist, leading the | |
way back to the cabin. | |
They found several staterooms, all but one of which were locked. The | |
open one seemed to be as inviting a place as any, and this they entered, | |
closing the door carefully behind them. | |
They were none too soon, for hardly had they settled in the place before | |
they heard the two men clamber on board. | |
The newcomers were evidently having a spirited confab, but as the deck | |
was thick, not a word could be heard below. Their heavy boots sounded | |
up and down the planking several times, and then the two in hiding heard | |
them come down into the cabin. | |
"You must have been mistaken," Max Pooler was saying; "I know they were | |
on the island, but the girl rowed 'em to the mainland half an hour ago." | |
"Oi say no," replied Mosey. "Oi seen them coming over here from me | |
boat. But why should they be on the island at all?" he continued with | |
apparent indifference. | |
"They fell in the river and went over the falls." | |
"And lived? Come now, Max----" | |
"They say so, anyway. Of course I didn't believe the story. I guess | |
they're only a couple of young tramps," said the master of the island. | |
"But if they are still hanging around I want to know it." | |
"Tramps!" burst out the Irishman. "Phat are ye talkin' about? Do ye | |
mane to say ye don't know who they are?" | |
"Why no," replied Max Pooler in surprise. | |
He had tried the doors of two of the staterooms, and was now walking | |
toward the others. | |
"Well, thin, let me tell ye, one was Jack Willington, whose father got | |
up that machinery years ago----" | |
"What!" | |
"And the other wan was Monteray Gray's son." | |
The miser of the island uttered a loud cry. | |
"You are fooling!" he said, excitedly. | |
"No, I ain't." | |
"Why, I thought his son was dead, that he--he died here," continued Max | |
Pooler, with a white face. | |
Mosey laughed, a cold, hard laugh. | |
"Max, me b'y, ye can't kill that lad. If ye'd go out into the worruld | |
more ye'd larn more. Now his father----" | |
The miser of the island grasped the Irishman fiercely by the shoulder. | |
"Stop there!" he commanded; "I won't have it--remember that--I won't | |
have it!" | |
CHAPTER XVII. | |
MEG TO THE RESCUE | |
The last part of Mosey and Max Pooler's conversation would no doubt have | |
greatly interested Jack and Mont had they heard it, but the truth was | |
that as soon as they saw the two men preparing to search the place, they | |
immediately sought for some means to escape. | |
In one corner of the stateroom they found a small door leading by a | |
narrow passage to what, for the want of a better name, may be termed the | |
forecastle. Why it had been put there was not apparent--except, | |
perhaps, to allow a direct communication between the captain and the | |
men, but nevertheless, they used it, and when Max Pooler spoke so | |
sharply to Mosey, the two in hiding had again regained the deck, and did | |
not hear the short quarrel that followed. | |
"Where to now?" asked Mont, "We can't stay here, that's certain." | |
"There is Meg with the boat!" exclaimed Jack, pointing down the shore. | |
"Wonder if we can get her to come alongside without them finding it | |
out?" | |
"We can try," replied the young man, and taking out his handkerchief, he | |
waved it vigorously. | |
In an instant the young girl caught the signal, and came rowing up. | |
"Where are they?" she asked, anxiously. | |
"Down below," replied Jack in a whisper. "Don't make a noise or they | |
will hear you." | |
"All right. Jump in, both of you." | |
Mont and Jack were not slow in taking her advice. Both scrambled over | |
the rotten rail, and into the boat, which fortunately was rather roomy. | |
"Shall I take the oars?" asked the young machinist, who, though not an | |
expert, could still handle the oars fairly well. | |
"Nope. I can row better'n either of you. Off we go!" And with one | |
quick stroke this slender girl sent the craft far out on the water. | |
Before she had time to take a dozen strokes Max Pooler appeared upon the | |
deck closely followed by Mosey. | |
The surprise was great on both sides, and for an instant nothing was | |
said or done. | |
"Come back, Meg!" called out Max Pooler, rushing to the rail as soon as | |
he had recovered from his astonishment. "Come back, or it will be the | |
worse for you!" | |
"I'm goin' to row 'em over to the shore," replied the young girl. "It's | |
just what I started to do." | |
The master of the island stamped his foot in rage. "You little good for | |
nothing! Bring that boat back without another word!" | |
Meg continued to row without replying. | |
"Do you intend to mind me?" screamed Max Pooler. "If you don't, as sure | |
as I live I'll shoot you!" and he drew up his gun as he spoke. | |
"Hold up!" shouted Mont, fearful of harm coming to the girl. "We'll | |
come aboard." | |
"No we won't!" put in Meg, with a strong show of spirit, "I said I'd | |
take you to the mainland, and I'll keep my word, shootin' or no | |
shootin'!" | |
Max Pooler pulled back the hammer of the gun he carried. Seeing the | |
action Jack jumped up and placed himself directly in front of the girl. | |
"Thanks," said Meg. "It's mighty good of you to try to save me, but I | |
don't want you to run such a risk. I've got to have it out with him | |
sooner or later, and now is as good a time as any," and she placed | |
herself again in range. | |
"Did you hear what I said?" called Max Pooler, leaning over to make | |
himself heard: "I'll give you just five seconds to turn that----" | |
Crack! | |
As I have stated, the guardrail on the yacht was rotten, and under the | |
unusual weight, it gave way with a crash. | |
Splash! | |
The miser of the island had lost his balance, and after vainly clutching | |
the air to save himself, had floundered into the water and mud below! | |
[Illustration: THE MISER OF THE ISLAND HAD LOST HIS BALANCE, AND AFTER | |
VAINLY CLUTCHING THE AIR TO SAVE HIMSELF, HAD FLOUNDERED INTO THE WATER | |
AND MUD BELOW.] | |
"Hello!" exclaimed Jack. "There's an accident that's lucky for us." | |
"He'll have all he can do to take care of himself," remarked Mont. | |
"Serves him right," put in Meg, with a laugh. She had not taken the | |
whole affair very seriously. "Maybe it'll cool his blood." | |
The three saw Mosey rush to Max Pooler's assistance, and then, without | |
waiting to see the outcome of the mishap, the girl again bent to the | |
oars, and sent the boat flying onward. | |
"What do you intend to do?" asked Jack of Meg, as they neared the shore. | |
"You can't very well go back. I'll help you if I can." | |
"I don't know," replied the young girl, in perplexity. "I've had enough | |
of life over there." | |
"Suppose you go over to Farmer Farrell's with us, I think he will board | |
you for a few days anyway, and in the meantime you can find out what's | |
best to do." | |
"I ain't got no money." | |
"We'll make that all right," replied the young machinist. "But didn't | |
Pooler ever pay you anything?" | |
"Pay me? Don't catch him giving out a cent if he can help it. All I | |
got was these duds--'em as was left when his wife died." | |
"Not much, certainly," put in Mont, surveying the tattered and patched | |
dress. | |
"Other folks earn money, and I guess I can, too, if I try," continued | |
Meg, as she ran the boat up the accustomed beaching place. | |
"Certainly you can," declared Jack. | |
"And have a better living than you had at the island," added the young | |
man. | |
It was growing dusk when they stepped ashore. Meg tied the boat fast and | |
left the oars on the seats, certain that the craft would not remain | |
uncalled for long. | |
It was but a short walk to Farmer Farrell's place. They found him | |
driving home the cows, and on the doorstep, joined by his wife, the two | |
honest people listened to what Jack and Mont had to say about themselves | |
and Meg. | |
The girl stood in the background, much of her former shyness having | |
returned. At the conclusion of the tale, Mrs. Farrell took her hand | |
warmly. | |
"Poor child! you've had a hard time of it, truly!" she said, "But you | |
sha'n't have any more trouble--at least, not for the present, eh, | |
father?" | |
"No, we can keep her easily enough," replied her husband. "You want | |
help, Martha, summer coming on, with all the extra work." | |
"And we'll pay you, too," continued Mrs. Farrell. | |
"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Meg. "You 're real kind. Maybe I can't do | |
things just right, but I guess I can learn, and you needn't give me a | |
cent till I do." | |
"Then, that's settled," said Jack, somewhat pleased at having the matter | |
so easily arranged. | |
"If only Pooler don't make me go back." | |
"You say you're no relation of his?" asked Mont. | |
"Not's I know. He always called me a picked-up." | |
"Then just let him try it," put in Farmer Farrell, grimly. "I know the | |
man well. He pretends to own Blackbird Island, but he hain't got no | |
more title 'n I have." | |
"And maybe I can get you a few dresses from my sister, and----" began | |
Jack. | |
"Well, there, by Jinks!" exclaimed Farmer Farrell, jumping up from the | |
step upon which he had been sitting. "I almost forgot it, being so | |
interested in your story. Your sister was here looking for you." | |
"Deb!" Jack was indeed astonished, and so was Mont. "What did she want | |
here? Looking for me?" | |
"Yes; she's had a terrible time. Your model's stolen, and she's been | |
put out of the house for not paying the rent." | |
The news startled the young machinist. In the excitement he had | |
forgotten all about Mr. Hammerby and the quit notice. | |
"Did she say where she had moved to?" he asked anxiously. | |
"No, she was in too much of a hurry. She was frightened half to death | |
on account of your being missing." | |
"No doubt of it. Poor Deb! Her troubles are as bad as ours," remarked | |
Mont. | |
"Which way did she go?" was the young machinist's question. | |
"Toward home again," said Farrell; "I wanted her to stay the worst way | |
when I found out who she was, but she wouldn't think of it." | |
"Maybe we can overtake her," suggested Mont. | |
"We'll try, anyway," returned Jack. | |
He was much worried over the fact that Deb had been compelled to vacate | |
the old home; and then he suddenly remembered that all of his money had | |
been stolen by Corrigan. | |
"Without a home and without money," he thought dismally. "Well, thank | |
God, my life has been spared, and, as Deb said, 'maybe it will all come | |
out right in the end.'" | |
Yet his heart was by no means light, as Mont and he set out for Corney. | |
CHAPTER XVIII. | |
DEB AT THE MILL | |
The apartments which the kind-hearted Miss Parks allowed Deb to have | |
were small but pleasant, and the bright sunshine that strolled in the | |
back windows did much toward brightening up Deb's naturally lively | |
disposition. | |
By the aid of the energetic elderly maiden the furniture from the former | |
Willington rooms was quickly set to rights, a good part of it being | |
stored in the garret until--when? | |
Deb asked herself that question many times as she sat on the edge of the | |
bed, after Miss Parks had gone below. | |
"If Jack was only here," she sighed. "Where can he have gone? I will | |
never, never believe he has run away, no matter what Mr. Benton or the | |
others say. Something has surely happened to him." | |
It was not long before she decided to start on a regular search for her | |
brother, and going down stairs she told Miss Parks of her intention. | |
"Well, dear, do just as you think best," was that lady's reply. "Where | |
do you intend to go?" | |
"I shall visit that farmer's place first," replied the girl. "Perhaps | |
they can give me some information." | |
"I hope so. But have a cup of tea before you leave?" | |
"Thank you; I really don't care for it." | |
"Oh, but you must," insisted the good lady. "It will do you a heap of | |
good. Just the thing to quiet your nerves." | |
Rather than displease her friend, Deb finally consented; and spent ten | |
minutes in the back parlor, sipping the elderly maiden's favorite Young | |
Hyson. | |
The girl was soon on her way. Farmer Farrell was well known throughout | |
the district, and it did not take her long to reach his place. | |
She was thoroughly dismayed to learn that Jack had started for home at | |
sundown the day before. | |
Not knowing where to go or what to do next, she retraced her steps | |
toward Corney. She was in no hurry, and wandered in deep and painful | |
contemplation, to one side of the road. | |
Near the old mill she stumbled over a bundle that lay in the grass near | |
a tree. Without thinking, she was about to step over it, when something | |
about the cloth covering attracted her attention, and picking it up, she | |
was amazed to find that it was Jack's kit, wrapped in his overalls! | |
"How in the world did that get here!" she exclaimed, and then turned | |
deathly white, as a horrible suspicion crossed her mind: "Oh, it could | |
never be! no, no, no, no!" | |
She dropped the bundle and ran down to the water's edge. The spot was | |
just below the mill, and in a little cove, where the river was | |
comparatively quiet. | |
Nothing was to be seen--nothing but the sparkle of the sun, and the | |
waving shadows cast by the trees overhead. | |
"It's awfully lonely here," she said to herself. "If Jack came here----" | |
She was startled to see the shadow of a man close beside her. Looking | |
up she gave a slight scream as she recognized the tall form of Corrigan. | |
She did not know that the man had been watching her for some time, | |
revolving in his mind what he should say about Jack if asked any | |
questions. | |
He advanced to her with a smiling face, ignoring entirely the way he had | |
treated her the previous evening. | |
"Got tired of waiting for Jack to get back?" he asked. | |
Deb was too much alarmed to offer a reply at once. | |
"Yes--I am," she stammered. | |
"Thought you would be. He ought to have sent you word," continued | |
Corrigan. "He sold the model I took, just as I told you he would," he | |
added. | |
"Where is he?" asked the girl, thrown off her guard by the villain's | |
cool manner. | |
"Around here somewhere. He's been here and over to Redrock twice since | |
yesterday. He got the contract to fix up the machinery in this old | |
mill. The man who bought it wants the job done as soon as possible, so | |
he went right to work. I'm helping him on the drawing. I'm a | |
draughtsman, you know." | |
Deb did not know, nor was she aware that Corrigan's statement was purely | |
fictitious. | |
"Where is Jack now?" she asked, turning over the plausibility of the | |
story in her mind. | |
"Just went up the stream a ways, to catch the true drift of the tide," | |
replied Corrigan. "He thinks they will get more power if the wheel is | |
shifted around. Better come in the place and wait for him." | |
Deb hesitated. In spite of all the man was saying, she hated to trust | |
him. Yet, if he was speaking the truth, certainly her treatment of him | |
the previous evening had not been right at all. | |
"There are some benches inside," continued the fellow; "you are tired, I | |
can see, and the rest will do you good. Jack will land at the bottom | |
room." | |
Rather reluctantly Deb followed the man into the building. | |
"Here you are," he said, pulling a bench from the wall, and motioning | |
her to a seat. "You mustn't think I bear you a grudge for what you did | |
last night," he continued, pleasantly. | |
The girl sat down without replying. The spot was near an open window, | |
and she strained her eyes to catch sight of any craft that might be | |
coming toward the mill. | |
"Perhaps after all, it's all right, and I'm a silly goose to be so | |
worried," she thought; "it's just like Jack to take hold of the first | |
job that comes to hand. For all I know his silence may be caused by his | |
good luck." | |
Yet when she remembered about being locked in and, later, turned out of | |
their home, she concluded it was a serious matter, and wondered what her | |
brother would say to that. | |
It was fast turning to twilight, and the evening sun cast long | |
flickering rays across the rapid stream. Had her mind been tranquil, Deb | |
would have enjoyed the scene greatly, but now her one thought was upon | |
the boat she hoped would speedily appear. | |
"Object to smoking?" asked Corrigan, after a brief spell of silence. | |
"Oh, no, smoke as much as you please," replied the girl. | |
Corrigan filled his pipe, and lighting it, sat down. He was by no means | |
a dull man, and to carry out his hastily formed deception, he began | |
making a few apparent calculations on a bit of paper which he held upon | |
his knee. | |
He was waiting for Mosey to return from Blackbird Island. He expected | |
that his brother-in-law would see Max Pooler, and transact some private | |
business that interested the three, and from which he expected to | |
receive a neat sum of money. Several times Deb turned to watch Corrigan. | |
"He seems sincere enough," she kept saying to herself, yet at the bottom | |
of her heart her uneasiness increased. The man hardly knew what to do. | |
On the impulse of the moment he had detained Deb, thinking that he might | |
in some way make her shield him from the punishment he knew he richly | |
deserved, yet now he was not sure he could manage her. | |
A quarter of an hour, a very long quarter to Deb, passed. | |
"My brother ought to be in sight," she said. "He ought to stop working. | |
It is getting late." | |
"Maybe he's struck a new idea," replied Corrigan. "You know he hates to | |
give up unless a point is settled." | |
Deb knew that this was true of Jack. But might not her brother go | |
straight home, without returning to the mill? | |
"I guess I'll go up the road to meet him," she said, rising. | |
Corrigan stepped over to the door. "No, you must stay here," he | |
replied, decidedly. | |
"Why--why, what do you mean!" exclaimed Deb, turning pale. | |
"I mean just this," replied Corrigan, catching her by the arm, "you are | |
my prisoner, and must do as I say." | |
[Illustration: "I MEAN JUST THIS," REPLIED CORRIGAN, CATCHING HER BY THE | |
ARM, "YOU ARE MY PRISONER AND MUST DO AS I SAY."] | |
CHAPTER XIX. | |
IN CORRIGAN'S POWER | |
For the moment after Corrigan made his assertion that Deb must do as he | |
said, the terrified girl could not speak. She stared at the man in | |
terror. | |
"Wha--what do you mean?" she gasped at last. | |
"You heard what I said," he answered coolly. "I want no nonsense from | |
you either." | |
"But--but--what are you treating me so for?" | |
"That's my business, Miss Willington." | |
"And I must consider myself your prisoner?" she added, growing more pale | |
than ever. | |
"That's it." | |
"You have no right to keep me here." | |
"Perhaps not, but you must remember that might makes right in some | |
cases." | |
"Where is my brother Jack? I do not believe that you have told the | |
truth about him." | |
"If you don't believe me, why do you want me to answer your questions?" | |
he returned with a wicked grin on his unshaven face. | |
"You have harmed Jack in some way--I am sure of it!" | |
"No, no! To tell you honestly I haven't the least idea where he is," | |
said Corrigan hastily. | |
Under no circumstances did he wish to stand for the crimes which his | |
brother-in-law had committed. As it was, he felt that he had enough to | |
answer for on his own account. | |
There was an awkward pause after this. Then of a sudden Deb started to | |
scream, but he quickly clapped his hand over her mouth. | |
"None of that!" he said, roughly. "If you won't be quiet, do you know | |
what I'll have to do?" | |
"I guess you are mean enough to do almost anything!" burst out poor Deb. | |
"I'll have to gag you, that's what. I won't have you yelling for help, | |
remember that!" | |
"But I do not wish to remain here!" insisted Deb, desperately. | |
"Oh, pshaw! I won't hurt you. Sit down and keep quiet." | |
But the girl could not compose herself and began to walk up and down the | |
mill floor. She wished to get to the door and edged in that direction, | |
but Corrigan quickly headed her off. | |
"You come with me," he said, presently. "I ain't going to trust you | |
down here any more." | |
"I shan't go a step with you," she answered, vehemently. "O, Mr. | |
Corrigan, please let me go! Please do!" And she clasped her hands and | |
held them out toward him. | |
"Don't cut up so, Miss Willington. As I said before, I shan't harm a | |
hair of your head. But I must make you stay here for a while. Now come | |
with me." | |
"But where do you wish me to go?" | |
"There is a loft overhead. I must lock you up there, but only for a | |
little while." | |
"But why are you doing this?" | |
"As I said before, that must remain my business. Come." | |
She shook her head. | |
"I--I cannot!" she cried, and began to weep. | |
Muttering something under his breath the villain caught her by the arms, | |
just as he had caught her when he had come for the model, and in a trice | |
he was carrying her up to the loft. She struggled as best she could but | |
this availed her nothing. | |
"Now you keep quiet, or I'll surely gag you," he said, as he set her | |
down on the dusty floor. "If you start up any kind of a racket it will | |
be the worse for you." | |
Having thus delivered himself, Corrigan went below again, closing the | |
door to the loft behind him and fastened one of the bolts which was | |
there to hold it in place. | |
Left to herself, Deb stood dazed for a moment in the center of the | |
floor. Then she tottered to an empty box standing near and sank upon | |
this, the picture of misery and despair. | |
What should she do? What could she do? | |
Over and over she asked herself the questions, but without reaching a | |
satisfying answer. She was the prisoner of a wicked man, and to get | |
away from him appeared impossible. | |
The loft was very dusty, and from overhead hung huge cobwebs full of | |
dirt and spiders. It was quite dark, for the only window was a little | |
affair overlooking the river and the four tiny panes of this were thick | |
with grime, the accumulation of years. | |
At last she arose, and with a long-drawn sigh made her way toward the | |
window. It was nailed fast and could not be raised, so she had to | |
content herself with scraping some of the dirt from the glass and | |
looking through the spots thus afforded. | |
She could see but little, and nothing which gave her satisfaction. | |
Below her was the broad and swift-flowing river, and beyond was a grassy | |
bank, backed up by brush and tall trees. No boat was in sight, nor any | |
human being. | |
She listened attentively, and not hearing Corrigan began to wonder if he | |
had left the building. | |
"If he has I must escape somehow," she told herself. "I wonder if I | |
can't pry open that door?" | |
She knelt over the door and tried it with her bare hands. But this was | |
not sufficient, and getting up she looked around for something which | |
might prove useful to her. In a corner of the loft rested a rusty iron | |
bar, somewhat sharpened at one end. She brought this forth and after | |
inspecting it felt certain that it would prove just what was needed. | |
Approaching the trapdoor she called out softly: | |
"Mr. Corrigan! Mr. Corrigan, are you down there?" And then, receiving | |
no answer, she went on: "Mr. Corrigan, I must speak to you. Won't you | |
please listen?" | |
Still the silence continued, and now her heart arose within her. He | |
must certainly have gone away, and if that was so, now was her time to | |
escape! | |
Trembling with anxiety, Deb began to work away on the door with the iron | |
bar. At last she got the end of the bar in the crack of the door, and | |
then she began to pry the door upwards. At first it refused to budge, | |
but suddenly the bolt gave way and then the door came open with ease. | |
She was at liberty, or at least liberty was within her grasp, and with | |
her heart thumping madly in her breast, she began to descend to the | |
floor below, bar in hand. Once she thought she heard a noise outside | |
and stopped short. What if that awful man should be coming back! But | |
the noise ceased and was not repeated, and she went on and soon stood at | |
the spot where he had first made her a prisoner. | |
The door to the roadway was open, and poor Deb could hardly resist the | |
temptation to fly forth at the top of her speed. But then she | |
remembered that Corrigan might be within easy distance of the mill. If | |
that was so, and he caught sight of her, he would surely make after her. | |
"I must watch my chance, and if he is around, I must get away on the | |
sly," was what she told herself. Curiously enough, while up in the | |
loft, she had not discovered Jack's model, which was tucked away out of | |
her sight. | |
With bated breath she tiptoed her way to the open doorway and peered | |
forth. No one was in sight on the road, nor at the water's edge near | |
the mill. All was as silent as a tomb, save for the distant rushing of | |
the water over the rocks. | |
Waiting no longer, Debt left the mill and started for the road. She was | |
still terribly frightened and ran on as if some great demon was after | |
her trying to clutch her shoulder. In her agitation she did not notice | |
a tree root growing in her pathway, and catching her foot in this, she | |
pitched headlong on the stones and grass. | |
It was a cruel fall, and as she fell she could not keep back a cry of | |
alarm, followed by one of pain, for her elbow was hurt not a little. | |
At the cry there was a crashing in the bushes overlooking the river at a | |
point above the mill, and a moment later Corrigan appeared. He had gone | |
out on a point of land to see if he could catch sight anywhere of Andy | |
Mosey. | |
"What! did you get away?" he roared. | |
"Let me go!" screamed Deb. "Oh, my elbow! Let me go!" | |
"Let you go nothing!" he answered, and caught hold of her once more. | |
"Come back with me! Come back this minute!" | |
"No, no!" she moaned. "I--I don't want to go back!" | |
"But you shall go back," he answered. And despite her struggles he | |
lifted her into his arms once more and returned with her to the mill. | |
CHAPTER XX. | |
MONT TELLS His STORY | |
As Jack and Mont journeyed on the way to Corney, the young machinist | |
noticed that the young man was rather silent, and when spoken to replied | |
only in monosyllables. | |
"I suppose he's speculating about those papers and the stranded yacht," | |
thought Jack. "Perhaps they will be valuable to him when he comes to | |
settle up with his uncle. I'd just like to know what interest father | |
had in that tool machinery. Perhaps the patent is still ours, or a | |
royalty on it. As soon as I find Deb, and things are settled a bit, I'm | |
going to investigate the whole subject." | |
Jack's surmise concerning Mont was correct. | |
"What do you think of my uncle?" asked the young man, after a long | |
period of silence. | |
"What do I think of him?" asked the young machinist in turn. "In what | |
way?" | |
"Why, as to his dealings with people in general." | |
"Well, I--I really, Mont, I don't want to say anything that will hurt | |
your feelings," stammered Jack, not wishing to be harsh with so dear a | |
friend, and yet determined to speak only the truth. | |
"Never mind my feelings. Just speak your mind." | |
Jack was silent a moment. | |
"I think he's outrageously mean and close!" he burst out. "He doesn't | |
treat you, nor any one else in the tool works fairly! He's the hardest | |
master to work for in the town!" | |
The young machinist could be blunt when the occasion demanded, and he | |
did not mince matters now. | |
"I guess you are right," replied Mont, shaking his head affirmatively. | |
"And yet----" he hesitated. | |
"What?" | |
"I hardly dare say what is in my mind, Jack. But I want a friend's | |
advice." | |
"And I'll give it willingly." | |
"And keep the matter to yourself?" | |
"Certainly, if you wish it." | |
"Then I've got this to say about my uncle, Felix Gray," declared Mont. | |
"He is either treating me first-rate--which I don't believe--or else he | |
is the worst scoundrel in Corney!" | |
Jack was dumfounded. | |
"The worst scoundrel in Corney?" he repeated almost breathlessly. "You | |
surely don't mean it!" | |
"Yes, I do," replied the young man, decidedly. | |
"Don't think I say so hastily. I've thought over the matter a long | |
time. Things can't go on as they have much longer, and when the break | |
comes, I want somebody to know my side of the story." | |
"Yes, go on." | |
"In the first place, you must remember that Mr. Gray is not my full | |
uncle. He and my father were only half brothers, so we are not so | |
closely connected as people imagine." | |
"That's so," replied Jack, trying to catch a glimpse of what his friend | |
was driving at. | |
"My father was ten years younger than his step-brother," continued Mont, | |
slowly. "He was quite well off, having been left considerable money by | |
an old aunt, who always took a great interest in him. My uncle Felix | |
induced him, shortly after receiving his inheritance, to locate at | |
Corney, and both became equal partners in the tool works." | |
"On your father's capital?" | |
"So I imagined; his brother putting his experience and command of trade | |
against my father's money." | |
"Then you really own a half interest in the works!" exclaimed Jack, in | |
surprise. | |
"So I always believed. But listen. My father died suddenly, it was | |
said. I returned home in time to hear his will read. In this, his | |
property, without being specified, was left to me as the only surviving | |
member of the family, with Felix Gray as the sole executor and my | |
guardian." | |
"It was a good deal to trust in his hands." | |
"I suppose my father had unlimited confidence in his brother. I trusted | |
him, too, and continued at school for three years longer. | |
"When seventeen years old I returned home, and asked him if I was not | |
old enough to take an active position at the works, and then he offered | |
me my present clerkship, and astonished me by asserting that my father | |
had squandered most of his wealth by extravagant living, and that | |
several hundred dollars was all there was remaining of my share." | |
"And you think?" began the young machinist, who was beginning to see | |
through the situation. | |
"What would you think, Jack?" asked the young man, earnestly. "My | |
father lived well--owned the yacht we just left, and all that--but was | |
on the whole, I've been told, a prudent man. Now you know my uncle, what | |
do you make of the matter?" | |
"Did Mr. Gray ever offer to let you examine the accounts?" | |
"Only those at the tool works, but not the private ones at home." | |
"Then, to say the least, he is certainly not acting as a guardian | |
should," declared Jack. "And I think you would be perfectly justified | |
in demanding an examination." | |
"That's your honest opinion?" | |
"It is, Mont. If he is acting right he won't mind it, and if he isn't, | |
why the sooner you find it out the better. From my own experience I am | |
sure he would stoop pretty low to increase his wealth or position." | |
"Yes, but that--that----" hesitated the young man, his face flushing. | |
"I know what you mean," replied Jack quickly. "To deprive you of what's | |
yours is a crime punishable by imprisonment, and you hate to have such a | |
thing connected with any one in your family. But it's not your fault, | |
and you ought to have your rights." | |
"Yes, but the publicity?" faltered Mont. | |
"Oh, pshaw! you don't owe the public anything!" exclaimed the young | |
machinist, somewhat impatiently, so anxious was he to see Mont get his | |
rights. "Perhaps the affair can be settled privately." | |
"I wish it could," returned the young man eagerly. "I would sacrifice a | |
good deal to have it done in that way." | |
Mont's nature was a shrinking one. Had he been less diffident it is | |
probable that he would have demanded an account from Mr. Felix Gray long | |
before this. | |
"How will you approach your uncle?" asked Jack. "Have you any proofs to | |
show that all is not right?" | |
"I think I have. During the fire I helped carry out a desk from the | |
library, and the other fellow let his end fall, and burst open one of | |
the drawers. The contents rolled out on the ground, and in putting the | |
papers back I came across a bundle marked with my father's name. I was | |
at first going to put it with the rest, but as matters stand, changed my | |
mind, and pocketed it. I took it down to the office, but haven't been | |
able to examine it, except in a general way. And then those documents | |
from the yacht----" | |
"Here they are," replied Jack, producing them. "You have some, too." | |
"Yes, quite a bundle." | |
Mont undid them, and tried to read some of the faded manuscript. | |
"It's too dark to see much," he observed. "If I'm not mistaken, my | |
father wrote everything that is here." | |
"It's queer that Pooler should leave all those things on the yacht | |
undisturbed," returned the young machinist. "One would think that such | |
a man as he would have ransacked the boat from stem to stern." | |
"He certainly must have a reason,", said the young man. "Or else--I've | |
been thinking--he may be a little off in his mind. Did you notice what | |
a restless look his eyes had?" | |
"Yes, as if he expected to be nabbed by some one." | |
"What Mosey and Corrigan and my uncle do there beats me." | |
"And then the yacht. Was your father on board when he died?" | |
"I don't know. I always supposed he was at home, and never asked about | |
it." | |
Both felt that for the present at least, the solution of this question | |
was beyond their power to reach, and they lapsed into silence. | |
They were now near the old mill, and remembering the kit he had dropped | |
when he discovered Mosey, Jack made a search for it. | |
"What are you looking for?" asked Mont. | |
"My tools I dropped--gracious, listen!" | |
A shrill, girlish voice penetrated the air, and fairly struck him to the | |
heart. | |
"Help! Jack! Help!" | |
"It's Deb!" he ejaculated. "She's in trouble!" and he ran toward the | |
old building, closely followed by Mont. | |
It took but a few seconds to reach the place. The door was tightly | |
closed, but with one heavy kick the young machinist burst it open. | |
They were astonished at the sight within. | |
There was Corrigan--his red face redder than ever with rage--and in his | |
arms, her hair flying, and her dress plainly showing the effects of her | |
terrible struggle for liberty, was poor Deb! | |
CHAPTER XXI. | |
CORRIGAN MAKES A MOVE | |
Both Jack and Mont had had surprising adventures in plenty, but both of | |
them agreed that none of them equaled the present one. | |
The noise in the room prevented Corrigan from hearing their entrance, | |
and it was not until Jack's strong hand grasped his arm that he realized | |
the sudden intrusion, and let go his hold upon Deb. | |
As for the poor girl, she was too exhausted to speak, but with a glad | |
look of recognition, sank back in a faint, supported by Mont, who sprang | |
forward to prevent her from falling to the floor. | |
"You miserable coward!" exclaimed the young machinist, his blood boiling | |
at a fever heat. "What do you mean by holding my sister in this way?" | |
With a strong push of his powerful arm he sent the man flying into a | |
corner. It was lucky that he had no weapon in his hands, or Corrigan's | |
career might have received a severe set back. | |
[Illustration: WITH A STRONG PUSH OF HIS POWERFUL ARM, HE SENT THE MAN | |
FLYING INTO A CORNER.] | |
"Are you hurt?" asked Mont of Deb, as the girl presently opened her | |
eyes, and gave a little gasp. | |
"I--I think not," she replied, slowly. "Oh, how glad I am that both of | |
you came when you did!" | |
"What brought you here?" asked the young man. | |
"I was looking for Jack." | |
Meanwhile Corrigan had risen to his feet, and stood in a corner, his | |
chagrin at being caught showing itself plainly upon his face. Jack | |
faced him, his hand clenched, ready to strike instantly, if necessary. | |
"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" demanded the young | |
machinist. | |
Corrigan offered no reply. The sudden turn in affairs was something he | |
could not understand. He bit his lip and tried to put on a bold and | |
careless front, but the effort was a failure. | |
"He stole your model, Jack!" cried Deb. | |
"So I heard," replied her brother. "What have you done with my | |
property?" he added to Corrigan. | |
"I haven't anything of yours," was Corrigan's cool reply. "It's all a | |
mistake." | |
"No, it isn't, Jack; it's the truth," reiterated the girl earnestly. | |
"You went into my house and took that model by force," continued the | |
young machinist. "You see, I know all about it, so you might as well | |
give up the thing at once." | |
While speaking, Jack had unconsciously stepped to one side. With a | |
sudden movement Corrigan slipped past him, and made for the open door. | |
But the young machinist was on the alert, and before the man could | |
realize it, he was sprawling on the floor, with Jack on top of him. | |
By intuition, he appeared to feel that it would be useless to struggle, | |
and so lay perfectly still. | |
"I've a good mind to bind you, hands and feet," said Jack. "Close that | |
door, will you, Mont?" he added to his friend. | |
"Will you let me go if I give up the model?" panted Corrigan, who began | |
to feel the weight of Jack's heavy body upon his chest. | |
"I don't know. But you've got to give it up, anyway." | |
"I suppose it's hidden here," put in Mont. "That's probably the reason | |
he's hanging around the place." | |
"Wherever it is you will never find it without being told," broke in | |
Corrigan. | |
For well-known reasons he was anxious to get away. | |
"Oh, let him go, Jack!" exclaimed Deb. "I don't care, now I've got | |
you--and Mont"--the last words with a grateful look at the young man, | |
that caused him to blush. Jack thought the matter over carefully. He | |
was not of a vindictive nature, and bore no personal ill-will against | |
Corrigan. | |
"What do you think of it?" he whispered to Mont. | |
"Might as well let him go if he gives up your property," replied the | |
young man. "It would be rather hard for us to manage him." | |
"Then give up the model and you can leave," said the young machinist to | |
Corrigan. "But I never want you to come around me again." | |
"Give me your word on letting me go if I give it up?" asked the man, | |
with an eager look. | |
"Yes." | |
"Come on, then." | |
Corrigan led the way to the upper room of the mill. The little party of | |
three entered. | |
"There it is," said the man, pointing to a corner; "you will find it up | |
there, back of that large beam," and he pointed to an angle in the roof, | |
about eight feet from the floor. | |
"Give me a boost up, Mont," exclaimed Jack. | |
The young man caught him by the hips, and held him up as best he could. | |
"It's here, sure enough!" cried the young machinist, and from out of a | |
dim recess he brought forth the model, covered with dust and cobwebs. | |
So interested were the two that they did not notice Corrigan back out | |
from the room and close the door behind him. | |
"I'm glad it's safe!" exclaimed Jack, as he placed the precious burden | |
upon the floor. | |
"I was afraid--Hello--what's that?" | |
The creak of a bolt not used before sounded in his ears, and in an | |
instant he noticed the closed door. | |
"He's gone!" ejaculated Mont, in astonishment. | |
The young machinist sprang to the door and shook it vainly. | |
"Trapped, by Jinks!" he exclaimed. "Here, quick! we'll break it down!" | |
With all force both threw themselves against the wooden barrier. | |
Unfortunately the door was an old-fashioned one, thick and solid, and it | |
stood firm. | |
"We're caged and no mistake!" cried the young man, nearly breathless | |
from his repeated exertions. "Hist! Listen!" | |
Pale as a sheet, Jack did as bidden. | |
There was a struggle going on below. They heard Deb shriek several | |
times. | |
"Great heavens, what is he doing?" continued Mont. | |
"We must get out," exclaimed Jack determinedly. | |
"Now! One, two, three!" | |
Bang! | |
The door groaned. It bent out at the bottom, but still held its own. | |
"Try it again! Now!" | |
Bang! Crash! | |
A thin split through one of the panels, but that was all. Jack jumped | |
over to the model. | |
"What are you going to do?" asked Mont, perplexed. | |
"Cut our way out," was the reply. | |
Taking a small screwdriver from his pocket, the young machinist loosened | |
one of the sharp knives of the miniature planer. As he did so there | |
came a scream from beyond the road. | |
Jack was again back to the door. How rapidly the chips flew! Hurrah! | |
he had made a hole through! | |
He put in his finger. | |
"Can you reach the bolt?" asked the young man anxiously. | |
"Not quite!" | |
Again the chips flew. The hole grew larger. | |
"Here, Mont, try your hand. It's smaller than mine." | |
The young man did so. With a painful squeeze he pushed through the | |
opening, and catching the bolt by his thumb, drew it back. | |
Jack then opened the door, and rushing out, jumped down the steps four | |
at a time. | |
"Come on!" he called back to Mont, who was vainly endeavoring to release | |
his hand. "I think he's gone down the road." | |
The young machinist was not long in reaching the outside. But once | |
there he came to a full stop. | |
Neither his sister nor Corrigan were anywhere to be seen! | |
In a few seconds Mont appeared, the back of his hand bleeding from the | |
scratch it had received. | |
"Where are they?" he gasped, tying his handkerchief over the wound. | |
"Blessed if I know!" exclaimed Jack. | |
He ran to a bend in the road, and then back again. Not a soul to be | |
seen anywhere! | |
Meanwhile, the young man examined the river bank. All was quiet and | |
undisturbed. The sun had set fully an hour before, and the twilight, | |
especially under the trees, was fast deepening. | |
"We can't trace them in the dark," remarked Mont, as they stopped for | |
consideration. | |
"We've got to do it," declared the young machinist; "I'm going to find | |
Deb if it takes a week." | |
"Then I'm with you, Jack. Come on." | |
"It runs in my mind that they must have taken that road," said Jack, as | |
he pointed to the one that led down the river. | |
"Well, we might as well take that as any other," returned Mont. "He | |
must certainly have carried her in his arms, and--well, I declare! | |
Isn't that her hair ribbon?" and he picked up a streamer of brown from | |
the road-side. | |
Jack examined it. | |
"You're right," he replied, "We are on the direct way to overtake them. | |
Come!" | |
Both started on a run. They soon passed the falls, and came to a clear | |
spot on the bank of the river. | |
Mont uttered a cry. | |
"Look! Look!" he exclaimed, pointing out in mid-stream. "There they | |
are in a boat; Corrigan is making for Blackbird Island!" | |
CHAPTER XXII. | |
HEAPS OF MONEY | |
Mont was right. Far out on the fast-darkening waters of the stream was | |
a small rowboat, with Corrigan at the oars, and poor Deb huddled up on | |
the stern seat. | |
Jack's heart sank within him. | |
"He's out of reach," he groaned. "Oh, what fools we were to let him | |
dupe us at the mill." | |
"I suppose he was afraid to trust us to let him go," said the young man. | |
"Can't we do something?" he asked, disconsolately, as he stepped to the | |
top of a rock to get a better view. | |
"Come down!" cried Jack, pulling him by the coat. "It's no use letting | |
him know that we have tracked him so far, or he'll do his best to | |
mislead us." | |
"That is so," returned the young man, and he hurried into shelter. "I | |
suppose he intends to join Mosey and Pooler." | |
"It's a good thing he didn't know we had been to the island," said Jack. | |
"Suppose we take Meg's boat and follow?" he added, suddenly. | |
"We would never be able to cope with those three men. If we had arms it | |
might be different. But we haven't as much as a toy pistol." | |
"Never mind, I'm going," was Jack's reply, and he made for the cove | |
where the craft had been left. | |
"Then I'm with you," Mont returned, and he followed. | |
At the water's edge both gave a cry of disappointment. | |
The boat was gone! | |
"Of course, Corrigan took it," said the young machinist. "He knew this | |
was the place to look for Pooler's boat." | |
Mont shook his head dubiously. | |
"I guess you're right. What's to be done now?" he asked, slowly. | |
Jack cudgeled his brain for an instant. | |
"I'll look around. There must be other boats. Of course we haven't any | |
right to take them, but we can't stand on ceremony in a case like this." | |
He ran down the beach and soon came to a tiny craft tied to a fallen | |
tree. | |
"Just the thing," he exclaimed, untying the boat and jumping in. "Tell | |
you what to do, Mont. I'll row out and keep them in sight, while you | |
run over to Farmer Farrell's for assistance. Get him to come, and other | |
help, too, if you can, and row directly for the landing. If you don't | |
find me there, fire a pistol shot, and I'll come as soon as I can." | |
This hurried arrangement was agreed upon, and Mont made for the lane | |
that led to the farmer's homestead. | |
Jack shipped the oars, and tired as he was, pulled manfully out into the | |
stream. The other boat was no longer in view, but he had carefully | |
noted the direction it had taken, and now headed exactly the same way. | |
He pulled for five minutes or more, and then looked ahead. | |
He was chagrined to find that the other craft was still out of sight. | |
Resuming his seat, he redoubled his efforts, sending the spray flying in | |
all directions. | |
Presently the island loomed up before him, and straining his eyes, he | |
sought for some signs of his sister and her abductor. | |
But though he looked in all directions, and even rowed a considerable | |
distance up and down the irregular shore, not a thing was revealed. | |
"Well, I'm stumped!" was his rather slangy but forcible exclamation. | |
"I'm positive they're not far off, and how I can be slipped in this | |
fashion gets me! Wonder if he has gone up to the cottage?" | |
Jack ran the boat up the beach and landed. It was now very dark, and he | |
had no little difficulty in finding the right direction. | |
Finally he struck the path, and three minutes' walk brought him to the | |
clearing. A bright light was burning in the cottage living-room, and | |
cautiously approaching one of the side windows, he peeped in. | |
At the table, his head nodding sleepily, sat Mosey, with a glass and | |
bottle close at hand. | |
"He must be alone," thought the young machinist. "Wonder where Pooler | |
is?" | |
In his disappointment, he was about to return to the shore, when the | |
door leading to the garret stairway opened, and Corrigan appeared. | |
He did not utter a word, but closing the door behind him, he locked it | |
carefully. | |
Jack was pleased to see him. He instantly surmised that Deb had been | |
brought to the place, and was at the present instant probably locked up | |
in the room above. | |
He was bound to rescue her at all hazards, and looked around for some | |
available weapon with which to defend himself if the occasion required. | |
A small axe lay near the doorstep, and he picked it up. It was ah ugly | |
looking thing, and he felt better when he had it where it could be | |
brought into instant use. Both of the men were desperate | |
characters--one of them had tried to take his life--and he was resolved | |
to run no more risks. | |
"Oi suppose we can't go back to Corney any more," remarked Mosey, as he | |
took the bottle and helped himself freely. "Ye'll be up fer stealin' | |
and----" | |
"You'll be up for something worse," finished Corrigan, with a forced | |
laugh. "You're right, Andy. The place is getting too hot to hold us. | |
We'll have to clear out soon, I'm afraid. Where is Max?" | |
"Gone to the cave." | |
"What for?" | |
"Oi don't know, leastwise he thinks Oi don't." | |
"Which means that you do," remarked Corrigan, suggestively. | |
Mosey unclosed one eye with great deliberation. | |
"Oi do that," he replied slowly. | |
"Do you think it's money, Andy?" asked the other, as he seated himself | |
on the edge of the table. | |
"It's not anything else, Dennis, me b'y," was the reply. | |
"How much do you expect to get from him?" | |
"Not one cint. Oh, but he's a close-fisted miser. Oi know him!" and | |
the Irishman rubbed his chin savagely. "He owes me many a dollar, so he | |
does!" | |
"Suppose we take what we ought to have by force," whispered Corrigan. | |
He was slightly pale and his lips twitched nervously. | |
"Oi'm wid ye," replied Mosey, rising to his feet. "Oi was thinkin' of | |
the same thing myself. Max is no good any more. Come on!" | |
With an uncertain step the Irishman moved toward the door. In an | |
instant Jack stepped behind the opposite side of the building. | |
Corrigan followed his brother-in-law out, and both walked toward the | |
woods on the right. | |
The young machinist watched them out of sight and then ran into the | |
cottage. | |
Unlocking the stairway door, he mounted the steps hastily. | |
"Deb! Deb!" | |
"Oh, Jack! is that you?" came a voice from the darkness. | |
"Yes. Where are you?" | |
"Here, over here, this way!" | |
Groping his way along the rafters, the young machinist soon held his | |
sister in his arms. In a trice he cut the straps with which Corrigan | |
had bound her. | |
"Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly. | |
"Oh, no, but I was awfully frightened!" declared the girl. She was | |
trembling like a frightened fawn, and clung to him closely as he carried | |
her down the ladder and into the open air. | |
"We'll go over to the shore," said Jack; "I think Mont is there. He was | |
to follow me." | |
When they reached the edge of the water, they found that the young man | |
had just landed. He was accompanied by Farmer Farrell, one of the hired | |
men, and Meg, who had insisted upon coming along to show the way. | |
In a few words Jack introduced Deb, and related what had occurred. | |
"And now I believe these men mean harm to this Max Pooler," he said in | |
conclusion. "If I knew the way to the cave I'd follow them at once." | |
"I know the way," put in Meg. "Pooler thinks I don't, but I found it | |
out one rainy night by followin' him." | |
"And will you show us?" asked Jack, eagerly. | |
"Yep, if you want me to," replied the young girl. "Come on. 'Taint | |
far." | |
"Hurry up, then. I have a feeling that every minute is valuable." | |
Meg led off at once, Jack and Mont following first, with Farmer Farrell | |
close behind, and Deb helped along by the hired man, who lagged | |
considerably, having no desire to expose himself to possible harm. | |
"'Taint very pleasant," said Meg, as they journeyed over rocks and | |
stumps, and through a copse of thick undergrowth, and then over a | |
shallow stream. | |
Quarter of a mile brought them to a ravine, near the center of the | |
island. | |
"Here we are!" exclaimed the young girl. "There's the mouth of the | |
cave." | |
She pointed to a huge rock, split directly in the center. Without an | |
instant's hesitation, Jack entered, followed by the rest. | |
Bang! | |
A pistol shot rang out ahead! | |
"They've shot him, sure?" exclaimed the young machinist, darting | |
forward. | |
A turn in the passage brought him to a small square chamber hollowed out | |
of the rock, and furnished with a table and two chairs. | |
He was utterly bewildered by the scene before him. | |
On either side of the small opening stood Mosey and Corrigan, the former | |
with a smoking pistol in his hand. Between them lay Max Pooler, a wound | |
in his shoulder. | |
But the scene upon the floor of the cave was what riveted Jack's | |
attention. There, scattered in every direction, were gold and silver | |
coins, amounting to many thousands of dollars. | |
CHAPTER XXIII. | |
THE MISER'S TREASURE | |
As he stood in the cave on Blackbird Island, Jack thought he must be | |
dreaming--the smoke and shining gold and silver all dancing before his | |
eyes. | |
Mechanically he moved forward and grasped hold of the pistol in Mosey's | |
hand. The Irishman was so astonished that he relinquished the weapon | |
without an effort. | |
"Stand right where you are!" commanded Jack, and he pointed the pistol | |
so that it was nearly in range of both men. | |
"Cornered!" cried Corrigan, as he looked toward the cave entrance, now | |
blocked by Farmer Farrell and his hired man, "and at the last minute, | |
too." | |
Meanwhile, Mont had gone down on his knees, and was bending over the | |
prostrate form of Max Pooler, who was bleeding profusely from the wound | |
in his shoulder. | |
Picking up one of the heavy cloth bags that had contained a part of the | |
scattered coin, the young man clapped it hastily over the bleeding spot, | |
tying it in position with his handkerchief--an action which checked the | |
flow considerably. | |
"My gold! My precious gold and silver," shrieked Pooler, never deigning | |
to notice the effect of Mosey's hasty shot. "Put it back; put it back | |
in the bags! Oh, don't let them take it! It's mine! All mine!" he | |
whined. | |
"Never mind," put in Jack. "Don't worry. What's yours shall remain | |
yours. Guess we have them safe, eh, Mr. Farrell?" he continued. | |
"Looks so," replied the sturdy farmer. "Anyway, I reckon I can keep 'em | |
from going through this door--the pesky critters!" and, with his gun | |
ready for use, the farmer stationed himself in the middle of the | |
passageway, with Deb, Meg and the hired man behind him. | |
"What's the cause of this row?" asked Jack, hardly knowing how to | |
proceed, the whole affair having happened so unexpectedly. | |
He looked at Corrigan and then at Mosey, but both of these discomfited | |
individuals remained silent. | |
"They were trying to rob me of my gold and silver," cried Pooler, "But | |
they sha'n't do it!" he added, vehemently. "It's mine, all mine." | |
With his restless eyes rolling wildly, the miser--for Max Pooler was | |
naught else--reached out his uninjured arm, and clutching the pieces of | |
money within reach, stowed them away in his bosom. | |
"Better keep quiet," suggested Mont, placing his hand on the bandaged | |
shoulder. "Your wound may be more serious than you think." | |
Max Pooler started. | |
"Do you--you think so?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. | |
"Not being a doctor, I can't say anything certain. It depends on what | |
direction the bullet took." | |
"Can I do anything?" put in Deb at this juncture. She had pushed her | |
way past the farmer, and now stood by the young man's side. | |
"I guess not, Deb," Mont replied. "We haven't much at hand in the shape | |
of hospital supplies," he added, soberly. | |
"Suppose we try to get him up to the house," suggested Farmer Farrell, | |
without removing his eyes from the two who had caused all the mischief. | |
"I won't leave my gold and silver!" howled the miser. "Leave me here. | |
Never mind my arm; it will soon get well. Only take those two men | |
away." | |
Max Pooler struggled to his feet. The movement caused him intense pain, | |
and he uttered a sharp groan. | |
"We can't do as he wishes," said Jack to Mont. "He might die, and we | |
would never forgive ourselves." | |
"I know it," replied the other. "But it will be a hard matter to | |
separate him from his money. Besides what shall we do with Mosey and | |
Corrigan?" | |
"That's a sticker. If we had a rope I 'd bind them tighter than they | |
ever bound me." | |
"There's a rope in that chest," put in the miser, who overheard the last | |
remark. "Tie 'em up--don't let 'em get away." | |
"It's sorry ye'll be for sayin' that," exclaimed Mosey. "Oi'll | |
tell--hic--all----" | |
Corrigan caught him by the arm. | |
"Shut up!" he whispered in his ear. "Can't you see Max is excited? Let | |
him cool down. You will be getting us into a heap of trouble presently." | |
The rope in the chest was long and heavy, and Jack picked it up with | |
considerable satisfaction. | |
"You first, Mosey," he said, "and none of your fooling, mind." | |
"That's all roight, Jack, me b'y. Oi'll not run a shtep. | |
Never--hic--moind the rope," returned the Irishman in his oiliest tones. | |
"I won't trust you, Mosey," returned the young machinist firmly; and, | |
assisted by Mont, he tied the man's hands behind him, and his feet in | |
such a manner that he could barely take a walking step. | |
"Now your turn," said Jack to Corrigan. | |
"What are you going to tie me for?" asked that individual in pretended | |
surprise. "I didn't shoot him." | |
"Perhaps not, but you were perfectly willing to have him shot. Come, | |
quick. I'm not going to argue all night." | |
Corrigan saw that Jack's patience was exhausted, and that the young | |
machinist was not to be trifled with. He submitted without another | |
word. | |
"Well, what's to do now," asked Farmer Farrell, when the job was | |
finished. | |
"Suppose we row them over to the mainland and march them to Corney," | |
suggested Jack. "It's half-past eight now. We can reach there by ten." | |
"I'll get my wagon, and we can drive over," returned the farmer. "But | |
what of this man here? We can't leave him." | |
"Carry him up to the cottage," put in Meg, who had thus far been a | |
silent spectator of what was passing. "There's medicine there, lots of | |
it. It came from----" | |
Max Pooler glared at the girl. | |
"Shut up, will you?" he snarled. "How many times have I got to tell you | |
to make you mind?" | |
"You can say what you please," replied the girl boldly, "and I will, | |
too. I've left the island for good, and don't care what you do." | |
The miser turned pale with rage. | |
"What!" he cried, harshly. "Leave me! Why, you good for nothin'----" | |
In his anger he raised his wounded arm as if to strike. Jack sprang | |
forward to defend the young girl. | |
But his caution was unnecessary, for at the same instant Max Pooler gave | |
a sharp gasp of pain, and wavering backward and forward for a second, | |
fell heavily to the floor. | |
Deb and Meg both gave a shriek, Jack and Mont turned the wounded man | |
over on his back. | |
"Is he--he dead?" asked Deb. She was white, and trembled all over. | |
"No, only exhausted," replied Mont, after applying his ear to the | |
miser's breast. "His passions hold him completely under control." | |
"Then he is to be more pitied than blamed," said the girl, | |
sympathetically. | |
The wound had again commenced to bleed. Mont adjusted the bandage that | |
had become displaced, but this seemed to do little good. | |
"I will run to the cottage, and get anything you want," put in Meg, | |
gazing with softened features at the unconscious form. | |
"All right," replied Mont, and he named several things which he thought | |
might be used to advantage. "And don't forget plenty of linen, and some | |
cotton if you have it," he added. | |
The young girl started off at once, and soon disappeared in the | |
darkness. | |
Meanwhile the two prisoners were growing restless. | |
"Guess me and the man can march the pesky critters down to the boat," | |
said Farmer Farrell, who was weary of watching the pair. "That is, if | |
you don't mind going through the woods with us," he continued to Jack. | |
"Certainly, I'll go," answered the young machinist. "Will you stay | |
here, Deb?" | |
"Yes, I may be needed," replied the girl. "We'll have to dress the | |
shoulder when Meg returns." | |
A moment later the party started off, Mosey and Corrigan in the center, | |
with the hired man behind. | |
Hardly had they left ere Max Pooler returned to his senses, and sitting | |
up, suddenly looked around. | |
"Gone?" he ejaculated. "Did they leave my money? Did they leave me my | |
shining gold and silver?" | |
"Yes, it's all there, so don't worry," replied Mont gently. "You must | |
keep quiet; it is bad for your shoulder when you move." | |
Max Pooler lay back, and eyed the young man suspiciously. | |
"You talk as if you meant well," he said, "but no one can be trusted | |
nowadays. Who are you?" | |
"Oh, never mind that," replied the young man, "just keep quiet." | |
"But I want to know your name," persisted the wounded man. | |
"My name is Monterey Gray." | |
The miser leaped to his feet, his teeth clenched, and his eyes rolling | |
frightfully. | |
"It's a lie!" he shrieked. "Monterey Gray is dead!--died years ago! He | |
died on the yacht! I saw him. Oh, you can't fool me! His ghost is in | |
the falls, but he is dead; and his gold and silver--oh, you can't fool | |
me! This ain't his; it's mine, all mine!" | |
CHAPTER XXIV. | |
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST | |
The miser's wild and unexpected revelation was certainly a most | |
astonishing thing to Mont Gray. As we know, he had surmised that this | |
strange man knew much of the history of the past, and he had already | |
decided to put several questions to Max Pooler on the first available | |
opportunity. But such a statement as he had just heard took away his | |
breath, and he stared at the prostrate man, scarcely able to move. | |
Deb, too, was astonished, but, woman-like, paid more attention to the | |
effect upon the young man than to what was said. | |
"Oh, Mont, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed, catching him by the arm. | |
"What makes you so pale? What is that man talking about?" | |
"I can't say, exactly," he replied, in an oddly unnatural voice. "My | |
father's death is a mystery to me. This man can unravel it, I suppose, | |
if he will," he added, as he knelt down, and turned Pooler once more on | |
his back. | |
The face of the wounded man had lost all color, and his heart seemed to | |
have stopped beating. | |
"If we only had some water it might help him," said Mont. "Although I | |
can't make anything out of a case like this." | |
"There's a brook just outside," returned Deb. "Wonder if there is a cup | |
anywhere around?" | |
In one corner he found a can, such as is used in preserving vegetables. | |
It was empty, and, taking it outside, she washed it thoroughly, and | |
returned with it full of pure, cold water, with which they bathed the | |
wounded man's head. | |
"He is suffering more from the excitement than from the pistol shot," | |
observed the young man, as he worked away. | |
"I suppose being surprised by those two men was the start of it," | |
replied Deb. | |
The miser was rapidly regaining his color, and his forehead felt like | |
fire. Soaking the handkerchief in the can, the girl bound it over his | |
temples. | |
Presently Pooler grew restless. He did not open his eyes, but moved his | |
body from side to side uneasily. | |
"He is coming to," whispered Mont. "Perhaps you had better go outside. | |
He may become violent." | |
"Never mind if he does," replied the girl; "I think I ought to stay, and | |
I won't care so long as you are here," and then, as Mont gave her a | |
grateful smile, Deb suddenly blushed and turned away her face. | |
"My gold and silver! It's mine, all mine!" muttered Pooler to himself. | |
"Monterey Gray is dead, and it belongs to me, all, all, all!" He | |
gnashed his teeth. "Oh, why did I go on that accursed yacht--evil is | |
always sure to follow! My gold and silver! All mine!" | |
A long silence followed, broken only by the irregular breathing of the | |
exhausted man. | |
"He has passed into a stupor," said Mont. "How long it will last I | |
cannot tell." | |
Presently Meg returned, carrying a number of bottles and bandages. | |
"Brought all I could carry," she declared. "Hope there's what you want | |
there." | |
Deb looked over the list and fixed up a dose which Mont poured down the | |
wounded man's throat. | |
Meanwhile, Meg picked up the scattered coins and tied them up in the | |
various bags that lay upon the table. How much there was they could | |
form no estimate, but it would certainly run up to thousands of dollars. | |
Evidently, Max Pooler had not dreamed of being surprised while counting | |
over his hoarded wealth, and the demands of Mosey and Corrigan, who | |
probably had some hold upon the miser, had led to an immediate quarrel. | |
While Meg was still at work, Jack returned, somewhat flushed from | |
hurrying. | |
"We don't know what to do with those two men," he said, after taking a | |
look at Pooler, who still rested quietly. "That hired man is afraid of | |
his own shadow, and Mr. Farrell hardly thinks he can manage them alone." | |
"Suppose you go with them," suggested Mont. "I can get along here alone, | |
and when you come back you can bring a doctor." | |
The young man's idea was thought by all to be a good one. | |
"But what will you do?" asked the young machinist of his sister. | |
"I'll do whatever you say, Jack," was Deb's reply. | |
"I'll stay here, if it's best," put in Meg. "I ain't afraid of anything | |
on this island." | |
"Perhaps you had better remain, too, Deb," said Jack. "I'll be back | |
with the doctor just as soon as I can." | |
"Wonder if we can't get this man up to the cottage," put in Mont. "He'd | |
be much better off in his own bed than here." | |
"We can, but carrying may make his wound worse," returned the young | |
machinist. | |
"It isn't that which worries him the most. It's his money and his | |
conscience," declared the young man, as he eyed Pooler meditatively. | |
"Then come; we'll lock hands and make an armchair for him to ride in." | |
Not without considerable difficulty they raised the man between them. | |
He now uttered no sound, and his weight was that of a dead body. | |
Meg led the way, carrying the lantern which she had taken from the cave. | |
Deb brought up the rear, her overskirt weighted down by as many of the | |
bags of the coin as she could carry, which Jack advised should be taken | |
along. | |
It was a long and tedious walk, for the greater part in the dark. They | |
rested twice, and both Mont and Jack gave a sigh of relief when they | |
deposited their burden upon a temporary bed in the front room of the | |
cottage. | |
"There, now you'll have to get along the best you can," said the young | |
machinist. "I suppose Mr. Farrell is wondering what keeps me so long. | |
Good night all;" and off he went toward the shore. | |
Meg brought some extra blankets from the other beds, and Mont prepared a | |
resting place for the unconscious man, placing the wounded shoulder in | |
as comfortable a position as possible. | |
"You had both better try to secure a little sleep," he said to the two | |
girls. "I can get along alone. If I need help I will call you." | |
After some discussion both Deb and Meg retired to what had for many | |
years been the latter's resting place, a small chamber at one end of the | |
garret. | |
Mont kept a constant eye upon his strange patient, frequently | |
rearranging the pillow, and watching that the bandage did not slip from | |
the shoulder. | |
There was an anxious look in the young man's face as he moved about, and | |
it soon vented itself in a brief soliloquy. | |
"This man knows all about the past," he whispered to himself. "He knew | |
my father, and he knows uncle Felix, I must help him to recover and, | |
there----" he rubbed his hand over his forehead; "If I only knew the | |
truth!" | |
He noticed that the brow of the miser gradually grew hotter, and that | |
the man's restlessness increased every moment. | |
"I don't know of anything else I can do," said Mont to himself. "I hope | |
Jack will hurry back with the doctor." | |
It was not long before Max Pooler was tossing from side to side. | |
"My gold and silver," murmured the feverish miser. "My shining gold and | |
silver! You shan't take it away! It's mine. Ask Felix Gray if it | |
ain't." | |
Mont started. | |
"What did you say?" he asked bending low over the tossing form. | |
"Water, water!" moaned Pooler, paying no attention to the question. | |
"Give me a drink of water, I'm burning up!" | |
Mont took up the pitcher which Meg had filled at the spring, and held it | |
to his lips. The miser took one sip, and then pushed it from him. | |
"Ha! ha! you can't fool me!" he screamed. "You're in the water--the same | |
old face! Haven't I looked at it many a time from the deck of the Kitty? | |
But you're dead, yes dead, and you can't tell anything!" and he fell | |
back on the bed with a groan. | |
"You must keep quiet," said Mont, who, to tell the truth, was highly | |
excited himself; "you are wounded in the shoulder, and will fare badly | |
if you don't take things easy." | |
But Pooler either could or would not pay any attention to Mont's advice. | |
He kept muttering to himself--at one moment apparently in his right mind | |
and at the next talking at random. | |
"Who did you say you were?" he asked during a lucid interval. | |
The young man did not reply. He knew that under the circumstances to do | |
so would only excite the man. | |
"Oh, I know--Monterey Gray. But you're not. Monterey Gray is dead," | |
and the miser chuckled. | |
"You are thinking of my father," said Mont finally. | |
Max Pooler glared at him. | |
"'Tain't so!" he cried, and then, after a pause: "Who was that other | |
young man?" | |
"My friend, Jack Willington." | |
"Willington!" gasped Pooler, rising up. "Both of them; and they have | |
come to take away the money! But Monterey Gray and Martin Willington | |
are both dead, and the gold and silver is mine! Didn't I tell you so | |
before? It is all mine!" | |
CHAPTER XXV. | |
CHASING ANDY MOSEY | |
Jack's thoughts were busy as he hurried toward the shore, where he | |
expected to meet farmer Farrell and the two prisoners. | |
"Pooler acts mighty queer to say the least," he told himself. "I can't | |
make it out at all, excepting that I think we are on the edge of some | |
discovery of importance." | |
It was dark under the trees, and he had to pick his way along as best he | |
could. Once he lost the path and came close to running into a small | |
brook flowing halfway across the island. | |
Never for a moment did he imagine that either of the two prisoners could | |
get away from the farmer and his hired man. | |
But in this he was mistaken. | |
Corrigan was too tightly bound to help himself, but not so Andy Mosey. | |
The Irishman had been so near complete intoxication that it had not been | |
deemed necessary to make his bonds extra strong. | |
But finding himself a close prisoner had sobered Mosey a good deal and | |
long before the shore was gained he made up his mind to escape if he | |
possibly could. | |
With a cunning that he had heretofore failed to exhibit he began to act | |
as if he was more intoxicated than usual. | |
"Look out, or you'll go down!" was the warning of the farmer. "And if | |
you do go down you can pick yourself up, for I shan't help you, | |
excepting with a kick." | |
"Oi know me way," was Mosey's unsteady reply. "Oi'm comin'. Don't ye | |
worry about me." | |
Just as the vicinity of the shore was gained Mosey slipped the bonds | |
from first one hand and then the other, taking care that not even his | |
brother-in-law should see him, for he was now thinking of saving himself | |
only. | |
"Come, don't drag," came from farmer Farrell. "I am not going to stay | |
here all night." | |
"Sure, an' Oi sthepped in a hole, the ould b'y take the luck!" | |
spluttered Mosey. "Oi'm comin' jhust as fast as Oi can!" | |
The farmer moved on and so did Corrigan and the hired man. Farmer | |
Farrell had cautioned the hired man to keep an eye on Mosey, but the job | |
was not at all to the fellow's taste and he was thinking of nothing but | |
to get back home, where he had left a comfortable bed in the barn. | |
At last Mosey thought he saw his opportunity and dropped further behind | |
than ever, acting as if he had lamed his foot. Then of a sudden he | |
darted behind some trees and crashed away through some bushes. | |
"Hi! stop!" roared farmer Farrell. "Stop, or I'll fire on you!" | |
To this Andy Mosey made no reply, but increased his speed, so that he | |
was soon quite a distance from the island shore. The farmer gazed | |
around in dismay, first at Corrigan and then at his hired man. | |
"Go after him, you dunce!" he cried to the hired man. "I must watch | |
this rascal. Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on the other fellow?" | |
"And I did, sir," was the weak answer. "He ran off before I knew it." | |
"Well, after him, I say! Don't stand there like a block of wood!" | |
"He--he may take it into his head to shoot me," faltered the hired man. | |
"He hasn't any pistol, we disarmed him," returned the farmer, | |
frantically. "Are you going after him or not?" | |
"I'll go, sir," said the hired man, and hurried off as far as the bushes | |
into which Mosey had first disappeared. But by that time the Irishman | |
was a good hundred yards away, and running as rapidly as his limbs would | |
carry him. | |
In the bushes the hired man came to a halt. He pretended to look around, | |
but he did not venture a step further. | |
"Do you see him?" called out farmer Farrell. | |
"No, sir." | |
"Why don't you follow him up?" | |
"I don't know where he went to." | |
"He went up the shore. Quick, follow him, or I'll discharge you | |
to-morrow morning." | |
Thus threatened the hired man started up the shore and then moved in the | |
direction of the cottage, having a notion that Mosey might move in that | |
direction, although he might have known better. A minute later he heard | |
footsteps and came to a halt with his heart in his throat. | |
"If he attacks me I'm a goner!" he groaned, and then saw that it was | |
Jack and not Mosey who was approaching. | |
"O, sir, he's got away!" he cried, with a feeling of relief when he | |
recognized the young machinist. | |
"Got away? Who?" questioned Jack, quickly. | |
"The rascal named Mosey." | |
"When?" | |
"Just a few minutes ago, sir--when we were almost to the boat." | |
"What of Corrigan?" | |
"Mr. Farrell is watching him." | |
"But Mosey was bound?" | |
"I know it, sir. But he got away anyhow, and ran like a deer up the | |
shore." | |
"Then he can't be far off," exclaimed Jack. "Were you after him?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"But if he went up the shore----" | |
"I was a-thinking he might turn toward the cottage." | |
"No, he didn't come this way." | |
"Then he must have gone that way." | |
"We must catch him," cried Jack, earnestly. "He has done too many wrong | |
deeds to be allowed to escape in this fashion. Come on, follow me." | |
The young inventor pushed forward and the hired man came after him, but | |
at what he considered a safe distance in the rear. Soon Jack was | |
running up the shore at a point where there was a wide open field, which | |
Pooler had once used for growing wheat. | |
As the young machinist came out on the edge of the field he saw a dark | |
form just leaving the open space at the opposite side. The form was | |
that of Mosey. | |
"Stop, Mosey!" he cried, loudly. "Stop, it will be best for you!" | |
The cry from Jack alarmed Andy Mosey more than ever, and he tried to run | |
with increased speed. But his first burst had been almost too much for | |
him, and he was panting loudly for breath. | |
"Sure an' Oi can't make it afther all," he panted. "Bad cess to Jack | |
Willington fer followin' me! Oi wisht Oi had me pistol. Oi'd soon be | |
afther sthopin' his game!" | |
But Mosey had nothing more than a sharp stone, which he had picked up in | |
the field, and at present he saw no way of using this, for Jack was too | |
far off. | |
Feeling that he could not run much further, he looked around for some | |
place where he might hide. A gnarled tree with low-spreading branches | |
was not far away and to this he went and began to climb the trunk with | |
all possible speed. Soon he was some distance from the ground and then | |
he stretched himself on a limb and remained quiet. | |
Crossing the field at his best speed, Jack darted in among the trees and | |
peered around sharply. Of course he could see nothing of Mosey, and he | |
moved on for a distance of a hundred feet or more. Then he came back | |
and stood directly under the tree in which the Irishman was hiding. In | |
the meantime the farmer's hired man came to a halt in the middle of the | |
field, ready to run at the first sign of danger. | |
"Mosey!" called Jack. "Mosey, you might as well give yourself up. You | |
are bound to be caught sooner or later." | |
He listened, but no reply came back. Then Jack walked around the tree. | |
Now had the Irishman kept quiet he might have escaped the young | |
inventor, but his success at getting away made him extra bold, and not | |
knowing that the farm hand was near he resolved to do Jack a great | |
injury. Bringing the sharp stone from his pocket, he took careful aim | |
at Jack's head and let drive with all the force he could command. | |
Had the stone landed as intended the young inventor might have been | |
killed, but as it was, on the instant that Mosey threw the missile Jack | |
took a step forward, thinking to go on another hunt for the Irishman. | |
Consequently the stone merely grazed his shoulder, doing hardly any | |
damage. | |
Much startled, Jack leaped forward and then turned around. He did not | |
know exactly where Mosey was, but resolved to put on a bold front. | |
"So that is where you are!" he cried. "Do you want me to put a bullet | |
through you?" | |
"Bad luck to yez!" growled Mosey, much crestfallen. "No, don't shoot | |
me, Jack, me b'y. It--it was all a mistake. I thought ye was the | |
farmer, upon me wurrud." | |
"Do you surrender?" | |
"Yis, yis!" Andy Mosey had a wholesome fear of being shot, and he could | |
not see whether Jack had a pistol or not. | |
"How many more rocks have you up there?" | |
"Nary a wan, Jack, Oi only had the wan, upon me honor." | |
"Then jump down here, and hold your hands over your head. If you try to | |
play me another trick I'll shoot you sure." | |
With a groan Andy Mosey descended to the ground, and then held his hands | |
over his head. | |
"Now turn around and march the way you came. And don't you dare to look | |
back," continued the young inventor. | |
"But, Jack, me dear b'y----" | |
"I am not your dear boy, Mosey, and I won't stop to parley with you." | |
"But, Jack, I didn't----" | |
"Stop it I say, and march. Or do you want to be in the fix Pooler is | |
in?" | |
"No, no! I'll march, Jack; don't shoot!" And without further ado Andy | |
Mosey set off for the shore, with Jack behind him, and the farm hand | |
bringing up at a safe distance to one side. Presently the farm hand ran | |
ahead, to tell farmer Farrell of how matters now stood. | |
As soon as the hired man had disappeared Andy Mosey tried to argue | |
again. | |
"It's Corrigan's doin's----" he began. | |
"Mosey, we won't talk now," said Jack at last, for he saw that the | |
Irishman's head was not as clear as it might have been. "If you want to | |
argue you can do it when we are in the boat." | |
"But you'll be afther listenin' to me Jack, me b'y?" pleaded Mosey. | |
"Perhaps." | |
"I want to be friends wid ye." | |
"You have a strange way of showing it." | |
"It's the liquor, Jack, me b'y--bad cess to it." | |
"Why don't you leave liquor alone then, Andy?" | |
"Sure, an' it would be a good job done if I had niver touched a drap." | |
"You've spoken the truth there." | |
"If Oi iver git out av this hole Oi'll soign the pledge, so Oi will." | |
"You might do worse." | |
"Say the wurrud, Jack, me b'y, an' Oi'll soign it to-morrow," went on | |
Mosey, thinking he was winning the young inventor over. | |
"I'll say nothing more at present, Andy, excepting that I want you to | |
get along to the shore, without further delay." | |
"But Jack, if Oi----" | |
"Not another word. March!" | |
And then the march to the boat was resumed. | |
CHAPTER XXVI. | |
PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE | |
It did not take Jack and Mosey very long to reach the shore. They found | |
Farmer Farrell, gun in hand, stalking up and down impatiently. He had | |
ordered Corrigan into the row-boat, and was lecturing him and the hired | |
man at the same time. | |
"You've been a mighty long while coming," he remarked, as the dim rays | |
of the smoky lantern fell upon the young machinist's face. | |
"I couldn't help it," replied Jack, and he briefly related what had | |
occurred to detain him so long. | |
They embarked at once. The young machinist set out to do the rowing, | |
but was stopped by the farmer, who directed Tim, the hired man to take | |
the oars. | |
"You're tired enough," said Farmer Farrell. "Besides, we must keep a | |
close eye on these two, or they'll be up to their pesky tricks afore we | |
know it." | |
Tim pulled a good stroke. He was anxious to get out of such dangerous | |
company and be safe in his bed in the barn loft once more. | |
"Isn't there some way we can fix this matter up?" asked Corrigan, after | |
a long period of thoughtful silence. | |
"What do you mean?" asked Jack. | |
"Why, buy ourselves off." | |
"No, sir, not a bit of it," returned the young machinist, decidedly. | |
Corrigan winced. The prospect of going to prison was not a particularly | |
inviting one. | |
"Oi say, Jack, me b'y, if we give up yer model will ye be easy on us?" | |
put in Mosey, who did not know that that precious bit of property had | |
already been recovered. | |
"I have it already," replied Jack; "I don't intend to be any harder on | |
you than you deserve," he continued. "You tried to take my friend's | |
life as well as mine, and also to set fire to Mr. Gray's house, and by | |
using the match-safe which belonged to me, cast suspicion on my | |
character, which has not yet been cleared away." | |
"Who can prove I set foire to Felix Gray's place?" demanded the | |
Irishman, blusteringly. His tongue was clearer than it had been, but | |
his head was as muddled as ever. | |
"Perhaps I can." | |
"Ye can't, no how." | |
"Well, we'll see, and it will go hard with you unless you can prove | |
otherwise." | |
"Oi didn't do it. It was Dennis's work," howled Mosey, breaking down | |
completely. "Oi found the box and gave it ter him, and he kept it. | |
Didn't he stale the model, too, and run away wid yer sister? Oi niver | |
harmed a soul, save when I was in liquor," he whined. | |
"It's a lie!" shouted Corrigan, in a rage. Had he been free he would | |
have struck down his confederate. | |
"It ain't, it's true, every worrud of it," responded Mosey, doggedly. | |
"Ye always got me to do yer dirty worruk, and now yer want me to stand | |
all der blame. But Oi won't do it. Oi'll turn Queen's evidence first." | |
"If you turn state's evidence you may save yourself a heap of trouble," | |
put in Farmer Farrell. | |
"Oh, Oi'll do it, just mind me, if Oi don't," replied the Irishman, | |
quickly. He was thoroughly cowed, and his one thought was how to best | |
evade the clutches of the law. | |
"You mean dog!" interrupted Corrigan, bitterly. "You shall pay dearly | |
for this;" and he grated his teeth together in rancor. | |
"I don't think you will be able to harm him for a good while," sagely | |
remarked Farmer Farrell. | |
Corrigan became silent at once, and as each one was busy with his own | |
thoughts, the rest of the trip was accomplished without further words. | |
On reaching the shore the party repaired at once to Farmer Farrell's | |
place where Tim, glad to be home again, hitched up the team to the old | |
family wagon. | |
"Is there a doctor anywhere near?" asked Jack; "I promised to send one | |
over to the island." | |
"Dr. Melvin lives just up the road," replied the farmer. "We'll stop | |
and tell him, and Tim can row him over. Do you hear, Tim?" | |
"Yes, sir," replied the farm hand. "To-morrow morning will do, I | |
suppose." | |
"To-morrow morning!" repeated the farmer, in surprise. "No, indeed, | |
right away. And if you can't get Dr. Melvin, go over to Dr. Dell's and | |
take him straight to Pooler's cottage. Tell him that the man has a | |
bullet in his shoulder." | |
Much as he disliked the job, the hired man did not dare to complain; so | |
with a heavy sigh he set off on his errand, traveling through the dark | |
as fast as his heavy boots would permit. | |
The family wagon contained two seats. Farmer Farrell took the front | |
one, with Mosey beside him, while Jack, with Corrigan, sat in the rear, | |
and then the horses were started on the road to Corney. | |
"We will stop at the old mill and get my model," said Jack, on the way. | |
At the old structure everything was dark and deserted. | |
"Say, Oi'll go along wid ye," said Mosey, as the young machinist | |
dismounted from his seat. "There's something there Oi want to show ye." | |
Corrigan wished to interfere, but Jack, who believed that the Irishman | |
was now really inclined to render assistance, would not let him. | |
"There are some papers that belong to Mr. Gray. Dennis stole them when | |
the house was burning," said Mosey, when he and Jack were alone. "Oi | |
can't read, but Dennis said they'd be worth money to us some day." | |
"Where are they?" asked Jack, with interest. | |
"Will you be aisy on me if Oi tell ye?" asked Mosey. | |
"Perhaps I will." | |
"Oi'll trust ye," replied Mosey. "They're up stairs, under the flure." | |
They ascended the stairs, and taking up a board that Mosey pointed out, | |
Jack drew out a small, oblong packet. | |
"I can't read it now," said the young machinist. "Come along. If the | |
contents are valuable I'll see that you get full credit for giving it | |
up." | |
He put the packet in his pocket, and taking up the model, made the | |
Irishman precede him down to the wagon. They were soon on the way | |
again, the precious model safely stowed away in the front of the | |
vehicle. | |
"I guess Mr. Benton will be rather surprised when he learns the true | |
state of affairs," thought Jack to himself. "But his treatment of Deb | |
was shameful, and I shall tell him so." | |
As they passed an old barn near the outskirts of the town all heard a | |
loud cry, the scuffle of many feet, and then the door of the place burst | |
open. | |
"Hello, what's all this?" exclaimed Jack. "Some one in trouble!" | |
Through the open doorway sprang a tall man. He was but partly dressed, | |
and one side of his face bore a thick coating of black. He ran directly | |
toward the road, and was followed by a dozen or more men wearing masks. | |
Seeing the wagon he made for it as fast as his legs would carry him. | |
"Save me, save me!" he gasped. "Get me away from these villains, and I | |
will pay you well!" and in frantic haste he clambered over the wheel and | |
into the front of the vehicle. | |
"What's the trouble!" asked Farmer Farrell in astonishment, while Jack | |
took up the gun. | |
"They want to tar and feather me!" was the panting reply. "See they | |
made a beginning;" and the excited individual held his face up to view. | |
"Mr. Gray!" ejaculated the young machinist. | |
He had not time to say more, for at that instant Corrigan, taking | |
advantage of the excitement, hit Jack under the chin with his head, and | |
then leaped to the ground. In doing so he fell, but picked himself up | |
quickly, and hopped as fast as he could down the road. | |
A second later the wagon was surrounded by the masked men, all armed and | |
gesticulating wildly. | |
"Give him up, Willington!" they yelled. "Give up Gray, or we'll tar and | |
feather the lot of you!" | |
CHAPTER XXVII. | |
"LOVE YOUR ENEMIES"--CONCLUSION | |
It was a thrilling scene, the brawny men, their intended victim, the | |
would-be rescuers, all in confusion. | |
One of the masked men attempted to pull Mr. Felix Gray to the ground, | |
but the tool manufacturer held fast to the front seat. | |
"Stop that!" roared Farmer Farrell. | |
"We want that man!" called out a person in the mob. | |
"No, no! Save me! save me!" cried Mr. Gray, frantically. | |
"We will not give him up," exclaimed Jack. "It's a shame to treat a dog | |
in this fashion!" | |
"He threw us out of work. He won't give us our money. He wants to | |
starve us and our families," called out several. | |
"Listen!" yelled Jack, as loud as he could. "Some of you know me. I | |
work in the tool works; I haven't got my money, and need it as badly as | |
any of you. But I say you'll never gain anything by acting this way. | |
Let Mr. Gray go." | |
"We want him and we're going to have him," exclaimed the man at the | |
wagon, grimly, and he renewed his efforts to pull the tool manufacturer | |
from the seat. | |
"You shall not," replied Jack, determinedly, and raising the gun, he hit | |
the man a sharp blow upon the hand, which made him instantly release his | |
hold. | |
"Go for 'em, fellows!" the man howled out, shaking the injured member in | |
evident pain. | |
The crowd began instantly to close in upon the wagon. Mosey, in the | |
excitement, tried his best to gain the ground, but Farmer Farrell had | |
taken the precaution to tie the Irishman's feet fast to the iron foot | |
rest, and he was unable to stir. | |
"We must get out of this!" exclaimed Jack to the farmer. "Start up the | |
horses. Quick!" | |
Farmer Farrell needed no further urging. Reaching over Mr. Gray's body, | |
he pulled up the reins, and struck first one and then the other of the | |
horses with his whip. | |
With a bound the animals leaped forward. The man who had held a grip | |
upon the tool manufacturer's foot lost it, and slipped under the | |
vehicle--the hind wheel passing over his leg. | |
The crowd uttered a loud cry, but were too late to stop the sudden | |
movement. One of the men caught hold of the tailboard of the wagon, but | |
a threatening shake from the young machinist's gun made him drop to the | |
ground. | |
On they went, Farmer Farrell making the horses do their very best. | |
Suddenly a pistol shot rang out, and Mosey gave a cry of pain. | |
"Oi'm shot!" he cried, falling backward upon Jack. "They've murdered | |
me, so they have!" | |
"Where are you hit?" asked the young machinist anxiously. | |
"In the soide. Oi'm dy--in'----" | |
Another pistol shot interrupted his speech. | |
"Gitting kinder hot," cried the farmer. "Let me have the gun. Here, | |
hold the reins," and he gave them to Jack and took the weapon. "We'll | |
see what a dose of buckshot will do." | |
Bang! | |
The report was followed by several cries from behind. | |
"That'll teach the pesky critters a lesson," observed the farmer, as he | |
resumed the reins. | |
Even as he spoke, they saw a flash in the darkness to one side of the | |
road, followed instantly by the crack of a revolver. | |
"I'm struck!" exclaimed Mr. Gray. "The villain has hit me in the | |
shoulder!" | |
"Is it bad?" asked Jack in horror. | |
"No, only a flesh wound, I guess," and the tool manufacturer drew a | |
sharp breath. "Drive on, don't stop!" | |
The command was not needed. The team was now in full gallop, and three | |
minutes brought them into the heart of the town. | |
"Straight home," replied Mr. Gray, in return to a question from Jack as | |
to where he should be taken. "And bring Mosey along, the doctor can | |
attend us both." | |
This was done, and the family physician pronounced the Irishman's wound | |
quite serious. | |
"Yours will heal rapidly," he said to the tool manufacturer. "But your | |
right arm will never be as good as it was. That workman may recover, | |
but it will take months." | |
The sun was just rising when Jack, after a breakfast that Farmer | |
Farrell's wife had compelled him to eat, took the boat and rowed over to | |
Blackbird Island. | |
Deb saw him coming and rushed out of the cottage to meet him. | |
"Oh, Jack, such a time as we've had!" she sobbed. "The doctor is here, | |
and that Pooler just died." | |
"Pooler dead?" ejaculated the young machinist, in amazement. | |
He entered the back room. The doctor and Meg were there, the girl's | |
eyes swollen from crying. | |
"Where is Mont?" he asked. | |
Meg pointed to the other door. | |
"He's in there too," she said, in a quivering voice. | |
Jack entered the front chamber. Max Pooler's body lay on the cot, | |
covered with a white sheet. Beside it, on a low stool, with his face | |
buried in his hands, sat Mont. | |
The young man's countenance was full of emotion. He took the young | |
machinist's hand in his own, and pulled the covering from the dead face | |
before them. | |
"Listen, Jack," he said in a low voice, "I want to tell you an awful | |
secret. Before this man died, he confessed that he murdered my father. | |
He was very penitent, and he--he asked me to forgive him." | |
"And you----" began Jack. | |
"I did forgive him. It was hard, but how could I refuse a dying man?" | |
"You did right," returned the young machinist. "But, oh, Mont, I'm so | |
sorry for you! Did he tell you how it came about?" | |
"Yes. He used to be my father's clerk, and avarice led him to steal. | |
By some means he imagined my father knew of his doings, and was about to | |
have him arrested. Half crazed by this fear, he went on board my | |
father's yacht one night and cast her adrift while my father was | |
sleeping in the stateroom. The yacht went over the falls, and turned up | |
where we found her." | |
"And your father?" | |
"Was found dead in the cabin. He said my uncle suspected him, but as | |
Mr. Felix Gray was trying to rob me of my share of the tool works | |
property, he turned the tables, and threatened not only to expose him, | |
but to implicate him in the murder as well. My uncle has been paying | |
him money for years to keep him quiet, but part of this went to Mosey | |
and Corrigan as 'hush money,' so Pooler said. | |
"It's a strange story," mused Jack. | |
"But that isn't all," continued Mont. "Before he died Pooler proved to | |
me that about one-half of his treasure belonged really to you." | |
"To me!" ejaculated the young machinist, in utter astonishment. | |
Mont nodded. | |
"Yes, to you," he said. "Pooler said my father held it in trust for | |
your father, who was not a good hand at investing money. The amounts | |
were the proceeds of several valuable inventions." | |
"Then we are both rich," returned Jack, with a broad smile. "I am glad | |
of it, for Deb's sake!" he added, brightly. | |
A little later the young machinist related what had happened on the | |
river road the night before. | |
"And now we'll have the whole affair straightened out," he concluded. | |
"I believe your uncle has had all the ups and downs he cares for, and | |
will let you have your own without much opposition." | |
"I trust so," replied Mont. "I do not care, as I said before, to make | |
the thing public, but it has gone far enough, and both of us must have | |
our rights." | |
"And then I must get the fire and the model matters squared up and go to | |
work on a bigger scale," added Jack. "I declare I've had adventures | |
enough in the past four days to last me a lifetime!" | |
Five years have passed since the above words were spoken. Mont is now | |
the sole owner of the Corney Tool Works, and the Mechanics' Savings Bank | |
is once again a flourishing institution. Mr. Felix Gray has relinquished | |
all rights to both, and is content to pass the remainder of his days in | |
helping his nephew along the road to fortune. | |
Mosey recovered, and is now a steady workman. He has signed the pledge, | |
and intends to stick to it. Corrigan was never heard of after his jump | |
from the wagon, and no one has ever taken the trouble to find out what | |
became of him. | |
Jack is now superintendent at the tool works, and besides his salary, | |
draws a handsome royalty from his father's and his own inventions. | |
Through Mr. Benton--who was profuse in his offers of help when he | |
learned the true state of affairs--the patent of the improved planer was | |
sold for four thousand dollars, of which half came to the young | |
machinist. | |
Deb--Jack's best girl--is now Mrs. Monterey Gray, and though she lives | |
in one of the finest mansions of the town, is still the true and | |
faithful little housekeeper she always was. Meg, upon whom Mont has | |
settled a neat sum, lives with her, and Miss Parks is a frequent and | |
welcome visitor at the place. | |
A few weeks ago, while visiting at Corney, I met Deb driving out to | |
Farmer Farrell's place, and asked her how her brother was getting on. | |
"Jack? Why, I declare you'd hardly know him, he's so awfully tall! And | |
he's got a beard all over his face. Business is splendid, but then Jack | |
always said that any one who did right, and stuck to his work, would get | |
along!" | |
And Deb is right. Do you not think so, gentle reader? | |
*** |