CHAPTER XXXII.A WELCOME ARRIVAL.
I could hardly believe the evidence of my senses. This tall, well-dressed gentleman my uncle! It was welcome news indeed.
“You are my uncle?” I repeated slowly.
“Yes. I haven’t been to the Bend in years; but you must have heard of me, Reuben?”
“I have heard of you. But—but”—
“Where is your father?”
“Father is dead.”
“What! dead! and I never heard of it! How long since?”
“Several weeks, I believe. I am not sure, sir.”
“Not sure? Did he not die here?”
“No, sir; he died in South Dakota, where he went to hunt for some good spot to locate a mill.”
“Well, this is indeed news. I wish I had heard of it before. I just came from Chicago.”
“While you were there did you meet Norton Bixby?” I asked quickly.
“Yes. But how do you know that?”
“He is here now, under arrest.”
“Indeed. Norton, I know, is a bad fellow. He is a second cousin on the Norton side.”
“He came to the mill and introduced himself as Enos Norton, and said he had been appointed my guardian by my father, who had lost his life by falling over a ravine. Now he is in jail for the robbery of a number of diamonds.”
“The rascal! I know he has been in jail before in New York State. So he pretended to be myself. Reuben, you did not think much of your uncle, I guess.”
“I must say I did not.”
“I think you will find me a different sort of fellow. I just arrived on the stage-coach, and the driver did not tell me any of the news. I thought it rather queer to find the mill deserted, and was just on the point of starting for the Bend when you came along.”
I invited my real Uncle Norton into the mill at once, and as he said he was somewhat hungry, I bustled around to get supper, meanwhile telling him of all that had occurred.
“It sounds like a perfect romance,” he said, when I had finished. “I never dreamed that Nort would dare to do such a thing. I remember that he asked me much about the Bend; but I thought it was only through curiosity. On the last day he was with me he borrowed twenty dollars.”
“Didn’t he know you might turn up here?”
“Probably not. At the time we were together I was planning to go to New Mexico. He, no doubt, thinks I am there at this moment.”
“He’ll be surprised to see you.”
“No doubt. But such a thorough rascal as he has proved himself to be is better in jail than out of it.”
I soon had supper prepared, and my uncle sat down and ate heartily. I could not touch a mouthful. The rapid turning of affairs had completely unsettled me.
“We must have a talk with Nort to-morrow, and find out all the particulars of your father’s death,” went on my real uncle. “I am not at all satisfied with the story he has told to you. If I remember rightly your father was a very careful man.”
He stopped suddenly, and then changed the subject, asking me how I got along at the mill, and if business was good.
“I came partly to offer your father an interest in a ranch I am on the point of buying in New Mexico,” he said, when I had related how matters stood. “I know the Bend is a dull place, and I have got an opening where I think you would do very well.”
“I would be glad to leave the Bend,” I replied.“I think I could do better in some new and lively place.”
My uncle gave a laugh.
“I don’t know as a ranch is such a lively place; but it will give you a chance to make money.”
“Then that’s lively enough for me,” I returned.
We spent the evening in getting acquainted. I found Mr. Norton a splendid, whole-souled man, and took to him immediately; and I was glad to note that this feeling seemed to be reciprocated.
On the following morning we started for Bend Center at an early hour. Almost the first person we met was Constable Pointer, who had just come over from Bayport.
“What luck?” I asked.
“We’ve got the diamonds!” he replied; “and the Catch Me too.”
“You mean that you didn’t catch Avery?”
“We caught him, but he gave Captain Harley the slip in Loadhead. We hope to get him to-day.”
But I may as well add right here that Avery was never captured, nor was he ever heard from after that day.
I introduced my uncle to Pointer, and also to Ford, who came up while we were talking. The mill-hand was highly pleased as well as astonished to meet the stranger.
“Good fellow, I guess,” he whispered to me. “Beats the bogus Norton all to bits!”
“You are right, Dan,” I returned.
It did not take my real uncle long to pick up some old acquaintances, who soon recognized him. All wondered that they had been deceived, and they attributed it to the similar family appearance that was common to both men.
Then we sailed over to Bayport, and made our way to the court-house. Judge Green was not yet present; but when the matter was explained, the jailer readily consented to allow Mr. Norton to interview the prisoner who had so misrepresented himself.