CHAPTER XXXIII.A HAPPY ENDING.
It will be needless to dwell upon Bixby’s astonishment when confronted by my uncle. He turned all sorts of colors.
“I—I thought you were in New Mexico!” he gasped.
“I am glad I am not,” was my uncle’s reply. “Now, Nort, I want you to make a clean breast of this whole matter.”
“Will you help me in my case if I do?” he asked.
“I certainly won’t help you if you don’t,” was the reply. “Tell me all; and I will see to it that you have a lawyer when your case comes to trial.”
On the strength of this promise Norton Bixby told his story. It is too long to repeat here, but in substance was as follows:—
After leaving the New York penitentiary he had gone West, and there fallen in with my father, and with him gone to South Dakota, getting my parent to pay the expenses. My father had really fallenover a ravine, and lay at the bottom dead. Bixby had run from the spot in horror, and had never gone near the corpse again.
When he got back to Chicago he noticed my uncle’s arrival at one of the hotels through the newspapers, and he at once called upon him. Then came a letter from Yates, asking him to take a hand in the Bayport robbery; and knowing that Bayport was close to Bend Center, he had concocted the scheme to appear upon the scene as my uncle and guardian. There was not much to be gained by it; but the idea had fascinated him, and he had carried it out as is known.
“I was sure Enos had no intention of coming here,” he finished; “but I was mistaken.”
“It is funny I didn’t get any word from my father during the time you were with him.”
“He said he wasn’t going to write until he had good news. He was afraid of disheartening you.”
“And you never went back to bury him?” I went on, with a quiver in my voice.
“No, I couldn’t. When he went over, he let out a scream that seemed to freeze the very marrow in my bones. For a moment I couldn’t move. At last I looked over the edge of the rocks, and I saw he was all crushed and bruised.”
“But he must have been alive.”
“Not much. That fall was all of a hundred feet and on the bare rocks. I would have gone down; but it was such a lonely spot I got frightened, and simply ran away as hard as I could. That’s the plain truth.”
And Norton Bixby wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead.
I looked the man in the eyes, and could not help believe that in this particular the fellow spoke the truth.
But in my heart how I wished he had returned and made sure that my father was really dead! There might have been a spark of life remaining, and if so, prompt treatment might have given him back to me.
I bowed my head, and the tears began to well up in my eyes. Norton Bixby saw them, and turned away his head.
Then the jailer appeared.
“A man up-stairs wants to see you at once,” he said to me.
“Who is it?” I asked, drying my eyes.
“Didn’t give any name, sir.”
I went up to the court room. The man who wished to see me was standing near the door. I gave one look, paused to make sure thatI was not dreaming, and then rushed forward and threw myself into his arms.
I was not dreaming, and then rushed forward and threw myself into his arms.
The new-comer was my father.
“Father!”
It was the only word I could utter; but how much it told!
“Reuben!” he replied.
“I thought you were dead,” I went on, after a long embrace. “Norton Bixby said so.”
“I have been very near to death,” my father answered. “You have heard how I fell from the top of a ravine to the bottom?”
“Yes; Bixby just told the story.”
“Well, I must have lain there for a long time unconscious; for when I went down the sun was still shining, and when I came to all was dark.”
“And you were not hurt?”
“Indeed I was. My left ankle was broken, and something was wrong in my chest, not to say anything of the scratches I received, which covered my face and hands with blood.”
“And how did you escape?”
“It is a long story. When I regained consciousness, I could not walk; and it was hard work to crawl to the water to get a drink and bathe my ankle. I tried to call out; but the pain was too great in my chest.”
“And you were all alone?”
“Yes; and for three days. The pain was somethingterrible; and that, added to the loneliness of my position, gave me a fever, and I lost my mind.”
“And who rescued you?”
“A hunter named Thompson, and two others. They told me two weeks after, when I was recovering, that they had found me delirious near their camp, and had taken me in and sent off for a doctor. They could not find out who I was, and had done the best they could for me.”
“And then you came on?”
“Yes, after writing you a letter”—
“I never received it,” I put in quickly.
“So I heard at the Bend this morning. Oh, my son, I cannot tell you how glad I am to be back with you once more!”
“And I am glad, too, father,” I replied. “I trust we may never be separated again.”
We shook hands warmly, and a moment later my uncle appeared.
He was greatly astonished, but glad indeed to know that my father had had such a marvelous escape. Then Mr. Markham and Judge Green arrived, and all the stories were told over again.
Later on my father went down to see Norton Bixby. I do not know what took place at the interview, but I think it must have done Bixby much good, for ever after that he seemed a better man.
When court was called, Norton Bixby and Yates were bound over to await the action of the grand jury. As soon as this was done my uncle invited us all to dine at the hotel at his expense, and among the party were Mr. Markham and Ford. The latter nearly wrung my father’s hand off when they met.
After we had satisfied the inner man, my uncle unfolded his plans to my father. Mr. Markham became interested, and as a consequence, the original plan was much enlarged. My father agreed to sell off his mill property as soon as it could be done, and then the three were to purchase a large tract of land, and form a company for the purpose of raising cattle. I may as well add that Ford was promised a job as soon as all arrangements could be made.
The dinner mentioned above took place just six years ago. During the intervening time great changes have taken place. Norton Bixby and Yates were both sent to prison, the former for two and the latter for eight years. During that time Yates tried to escape, and as a consequence is still behind the bars.
Bixby came out four years ago. He has changed for the better, and is a good man on the ranch, where he is well away from the temptations of the city. Carney was given a year in the penitentiary, and I don’t know what has become of him.
The mill and the Catch Me were sold at goodprices, and then my father and I moved out to our new home. We have with us my uncle and Dan Ford, and we are not only happy, but we are likewise getting rich.
Mr. Markham and his family pay us a visit once a year, and he has not forgotten the promise made to further benefit me; for on my twenty-first birthday he presented me, in the name of his wife and son, with an eighth interest in the ranch, worth, at the lowest calculation, ten thousand dollars.
I like my new home a hundred times better than the old. Here I am free from the sneers of all such men as Mr. James Jackson, and I have the satisfaction of knowing that my work is going to accomplish something. I have a swift pony, a fine dog, and a good gun; I love my occupation—and all these things being so, what more is there to say but to bid my readers adieu?
THE END.