CHAPTER XV
THAT night Patsy was awakened by a hand on her arm, an excited voice in her ear.
“Patsy, Patsy!� whispered Anne. “Wake up! I’ve something to tell you. Wake up and listen. I can’t wait till morning. Oh, Patsy! I know how we are going to find out Dick’s secret!�
“What? How?� Patsy was wide awake at once.
“We’ve failed and failed; it did almost seem as if he could outdo us. Oh, he would have held it over our heads the rest of our lives!�
“But how——� interrupted Patsy.
“We—it came to me in a flash—we are going to course him,� said Anne.
“Course him?� Patsy made the words an amazed question.
“As we did the bees,� Anne explained. “We’ll follow him as far as we can see him; and then we’ll take up his course from that place next time; and so on, till we get to Redville or the end of the world—wherever he goes!�
“I don’t see how we’ll manage it,� said Patsy.
“Oh, yes you do! Or you will when I tell you from A, B, C to X, Y, Z,� Anne exclaimed impatiently. “You see, Pats, we’ve got to watch him and follow him.�
“We’ve tried that dozens of times,� was Patsy’s despondent interjection.
“Will you listen to me? I say we’ll follow him. He nearly always goes by Larkland, to get a pigeon; then he comes back to the public road and he goes up Jones’s hill. We know that, for we’ve followed him that far. Well! Next time we see him getting ready to go, we’ll stroll to the mill and stop, as if we just meant to visit Cousin Giles; then, while Dick’s at Larkland, we’ll run along and hide in the pines where he gave us the slip that first time. You remember?�
Patsy emphatically did.
“And then we’ll follow him. He’ll not be expecting us there, and we’ll be careful to keep out of recognizing distance. If he gets away, we’ll come back home and not let him know we followed him. And the next time, we’ll race ahead and hide at the place where we lost sight of him, and follow him from there.�
“Oh! I see!� said Patsy. “We are to course him just like the bees.�
“Oh! you see; at last!� laughed Anne. “Maybe we’ll find out the very first time; or we may haveto follow him again and again. Oh, it’ll be lots and loads of fun!�
The girls were on tiptoe with impatience, and rejoiced mightily when they saw Dick put a candle into his pocket the next Saturday afternoon. They went at once to the mill; presently they saw him take the path to Larkland, and they ran ahead and dived into the pine woods where he had hidden on that well-remembered April day. Half an hour later, Dick came whistling along the road, and they crept from their hiding place and followed at a cautious distance for about three quarters of a mile; then they lost sight of him at a turn of the Old Plank Road. Anne stopped.
“Come on,� said Patsy, keen on pursuit. “There aren’t any paths here; of course he went on down the road.�
“He may have turned off in the woods,� said Anne. “The thing to do is to course him, follow him as far as we see him. Oh, it’s such fun!�
“It certainly is,� agreed Patsy. “We’ve followed him a long way. Why, we’re over two miles from The Village. It’s out here somewhere in the Big Woods that Solomon Gabe lives.�
“Oh! the old ‘cunjer’ darky the others are so afraid of?� asked Anne.
“Yes. And his son Cæsar is one of the desertersthey’re looking for. Oh, Anne! suppose we should walk up—zip, bang!—face to face with a real deserter?�
“Nonsense! Everybody says those men went to New York or somewhere; they wouldn’t dare come back here, where people know them. Now, Pats-pet, next time Dick starts off, we’ll run ahead and come here and—oh, Patsy! that clump of chinquapin bushes will make a splucious hiding place.�
“If he sees us, we can just be looking for chinquapins. Anne, this was a splendid plan of yours.�
“It certainly was,� agreed Anne. “Oh! I do hope next time we’ll get there—wherever it is—and find out Dick’s secret.�
A few days later, they followed Dick again. He went toward Larkland, and they hid in the chinquapin bushes as they had planned. And there they stayed, weary hour after hour. No one passed except a negro man who went slinking down the road.
“Anne,� whispered Patsy, “that man looks like—I believe it is—Cæsar!�
“Any darky you saw would look like Cæsar to you, now he’s a deserter,� giggled Anne. “You don’t see anybody that looks like Dick, do you?�
“No; and don’t let’s wait any longer. We’reso crazy to find out about Dick we’re getting to be real slackers in Red Cross and gardening.�
They “went by� Larkland, and there they found Dick, busy stretching wire and driving staples, helping Cousin Mayo wire in a new pigeon cote.
The next Saturday was perfect outdoor weather, with blue skies and crisp air that invited one to the gorgeous October woodlands. Early in the afternoon, Anne, who was spending the day with Alice Blair, came running to The Roost.
“Patsy! Patsy! Where’s Patsy?� she called.
“I sent her to carry Mrs. Hight some wool,� said Mrs. Osborne. “She’ll be back in an hour or so.�
“Oh, dear!� Anne exclaimed. “I can’t wait. Tell her I’ve gone—she knows where—aboutthe secret. Tell her to follow to the last place, please, Cousin Miranda. She’ll understand. I must run.�
Away she sped, to pass the mill while Dick was at Larkland and get to the chosen covert on the Old Plank Road. Near the mill the mail hack passed her, with passengers that excited a sensation when they came to The Village. They were the sheriff and a deputy with two of the negro deserters, Bill and Martin Toole.
“Where d’you catch them?� asked Mr. Blair, neglecting his mail bags.
“Not so far from you folks,� answered the sheriff. “Lewis Jones saw two men sneaking ’round that old sawmill place in the Big Woods; he came and told me, and Tom Robson and me went and nabbed these fellows. We’ve brought them here to jail to-night; to-morrow we’ll deliver them to army folks.�
Just then Mrs. Red Mayo Osborne came in, hurried and anxious looking.
“Will,� she called to Mr. Blair, “have you seen Anne Lewis this afternoon?�
“Not since directly after dinner,� he answered. “She passed the post office then.�
“Yes,� said Mrs. Osborne. “She came running in and asked for Patsy. Patsy was away, at the Hights’, and Anne ran off, saying Patsy would know where she was going. As soon as Patsy came home, she followed, but she came back half an hour ago; she had looked and looked, and seen no sign of Anne—on the Old Plank Road, where she expected to find her.�
“Anne ought not to wander off that way,� said Mr. Blair.
“Indeed not,� agreed Mrs. Osborne.
“I’d send the boys to look for her,� suggested Mr. Blair.
“They’ve gone,� said Mrs. Osborne. “David and Steve and Dick. It’s Dick that made me so uneasy. When Patsy came back and found him at home, she asked him where Anne was. He said he hadn’t seen her. And Patsy said she had followed him, as far as the Old Plank Road, she was sure; and farther. He looked startled, positively frightened. And he asked what color her dress was; and when I said blue, a blue gingham, he said, ‘Oh, I’m afraid I saw her!’ He was off like a shot before I could ask a question. He seemed so upset and excited that—well, it frightened me.�
“Nonsense, Miranda!� laughed Mr. Blair. “You let your imagination run away with you. Anne ought not to roam the woods alone, but she is safe, perfectly safe.�
Dick had, as his mother said, gone hurriedly in search of Anne. He did not share Mr. Blair’s feeling of security; he was uneasy, alarmed.
On his way to the Old Sterling Mine that afternoon, he had seen two negroes going up the path from the creek toward the mine. He crept into the bushes and followed a little way, but the undergrowth was so straggling that he could not get near them. One of the negroes was Solomon Gabe, he was sure; the other negro, a stout, youngish figure, had his back toward him andwas screened by bushes. Dick caught only a word here and there of their mumbled speech—“hide,� “get away,� and oaths and oaths.
He crept back to the road, and then, to avoid Isham Baskerfield whose oxcart was going up the hill, he went down the creek and cut through the woods. He ran to Larkland to tell his Cousin Mayo what he had seen and heard. The house was shut up. Perhaps he would find Cousin Mayo in The Village.
And so Dick ran home—to be greeted by the news that Anne was off alone somewhere; had followed him, Patsy said, along the Old Plank Road. Then he remembered something that filled him with vague terror; if that were Anne, and she should wander to the Old Sterling Mine, and encounter those men—— He turned and ran to seek her. It was nearly dark when he came to Isham’s cabin. The old negro was on the porch with his wife, who was talking in a rapid, excited voice.
“Hey, Unc’ Isham!� Dick called. “Have you seen Anne?�
The man started and the woman was suddenly silent.
Dick called again; then he sprang over the fence and started toward the cabin.
Lily Belle said something sharply to Isham,who turned and said: “Hey? Why, it’s little Marse Dick. Was you calling me?� and hobbled down the path.
“Have you seen Miss Anne Lewis?�
“See who? What you say, Marse Dick? Laws, I’m gittin’ deef!�
“Anne, Anne Lewis,� Dick said impatiently. “Which way did she go?�
“How I know which way she go? I ain’t see her,� mumbled Isham.
“What!� Dick said sharply. “I saw you going up the road in your cart, and she was there at the top of the hill—in a blue dress.�
Isham looked terribly confused. Then he said: “Was that her? Was that Miss Anne? My old eyes ain’t no good nowadays. I knowed somebody passed me, but I was studyin’ ’bout my business, an’ I ain’t took no noticement who ’twas.�
“But I thought she stopped and spoke to you,� said Dick. “It looked like—— Didn’t she speak to you?�
As Dick became uncertain, Isham grew positive. “Who? Miss Anne? I don’t riccermember her speakin’ to me. Naw, Miss Anne ain’t spoke to me.�
After all, Dick was not sure it was Anne. He had only seen a far-off figure in blue. He thought—he was not certain—it paused by Isham’s cart.He had not thought of Anne then, but now the conviction grew that it was she; and he was curiously disturbed by Isham’s manner, though he was sure the old negro would not hurt Anne.
Perhaps she had gone back, straying in the woods to get chinquapins, and was now safe at home. Oh! surely she was at home. Twilight was deepening. He would go home. He started back, examining the road closely. There in the sand were footprints, slim little tracks, Anne’s footprints!
So itwasAnne that Isham had met. Why did he say he had not seen her? And why did he look so confused, frightened?
All the tracks led in one direction. There were no homeward-going footprints. Anne had passed this way, but she had not gone back. Where was she now? Did Isham know?
Dick ran to the cabin. No one was in sight, and door and shutter were closed; but—for it was now dusk—he caught glimpses of flickering firelight. He was just about to bang on the door when he heard a voice,—not Isham’s and not Lily Belle’s. He peeped through a knothole. There was a man sitting at the table. His back was turned. Dick crept to the side of the cabin and looked through a crack. Now Lily Belle was between him and the man. Isham threw a lightwoodknot on the fire and the blaze flared up. And Lily Belle moved. The man was Cæsar Gabe, the deserter!
This news ought to go at once to The Village. But Anne! He could not go back without one effort to find her. He ran down the road to the ford. There he stopped. After listening intently and hearing nothing but the usual wood noises, he took out the candle he had brought for his mining, lighted it, and looked about. There, on the soft, damp ground, the footprints were distinct; and they went, not up the road, but along the path toward the mine.
Dick blew out the candle, squared his shoulders, and started up the hill. If Anne had gone to the Old Sterling Mine, if she had encountered the deserter—
Close to the mine he lighted his candle and saw rough, heavy tracks and again that slim little footprint.
Should he go into the mine to search for her? Or should he hurry back for help—not because of the danger to himself, but because he only could guide aright the search for Anne; and to tell about the deserter.
As he stood there, trying to decide what was best to do, he heard—he thought he heard—a faint cry. Anne? Was it Anne? Was shethere, in terror, in danger? He forgot his sober second thoughts about going back for help. Anne there in need! He must go to her.
He scrambled down the ladder and stumbled along the tunnel to the main room, not daring to light his candle. There was no glimmer in the darkness before him, and now he heard no sound; perhaps he had never heard anything, had just imagined he had. He lighted his candle and examined the ground, but he could not distinguish footprints, Anne’s or others. Was he wasting precious time here, when he ought to be on the way home to give the alarm?
Anyway, he would go on to the second tunnel.
There, about the height of his head, was something hanging on one of the rough timbers that supported the roofing. It was a piece of blue ribbon, the gay bow that he had seen on Anne’s hair. He sprang forward, in certainty and terror now, going straight to the pit at the end of the tunnel. He stumbled against something and almost fell; it was the ladder that some one had pulled out of the pit. He pushed it to the edge, slid it in, and scrambled down.
As he reached the bottom, his arm was clutched, so suddenly that his hand was jerked upward and his candle was extinguished. For a second he was frozen with terror, awaiting heknew not what—a pistol at his brow, a knife at his throat.
And then to him, expecting any terrible thing, came a dear, familiar voice. “Oh, Dick! Dick!� gasped Anne. “I was so scared! I didn’t dare look or move! And when I saw it was you—— Oh! I thought no one would ever come. I thought they were coming back to kill me!�
“They? Who?�
“I don’t know. They threw a hat over my face from behind and blindfolded me. Then they put me here.�
“Let’s get away, quick as we can,� said Dick. “I saw two men here this afternoon. That’s why I went back.�
They climbed out of the pit and hurried along the tunnel.
Anne giggled hysterically. “O Dick!� she said. “I did find out your secret. I said I would, and I did. But—I wish I hadn’t!�
He started to answer, and then—they were now at the foot of the ladder—he stopped in terror. He heard voices. The men were returning.
“They’ve got us,� he said.
“Go on, go on,� gasped Anne. “Let’s get out anyway.�
“We’d just meet them,� replied Dick.
“Oh, come on out!� Anne said desperately. “Don’t let them kill us in this awful hole.�
“A hole!� Dick exclaimed. “Oh! there’s one. Come here!�
He caught Anne by the arm and pulled her along the tunnel, into the main room, to the pit into which he had fallen on his first visit to the mine.
“Here’s a hole,� he explained in a rapid whisper; “behind this pile of dirt. Wait a sec till I move these poles. Now! Grab that pole and slip in. Feel for the log with your feet. There!�
Instead of following Anne, he poised on the crosswise timber.
“Hold the candle a minute,� he said. “Quick! And steady!�
He dragged back the poles he had pulled aside.
“Put out the light,� he said. “I’ll stay here and watch. If they don’t step on the poles, they’ll never find us.�
“Oh, Dick! If——�
“Hush! They’re coming!�
They crouched down in silence, listening fearfully to the footsteps and voices that came nearer and nearer. Three men, the foremost one carrying a lantern, stopped in the main room of the mine. Dick saw them clearly; they were Solomon Gabe, Cæsar, and Isham.
Solomon Gabe was moaning over and over: “Uh, my boy! Dey’ll git you, dey’ll git you! My boy! my boy!�
Cæsar spoke with impatient harshness: “Shet up! Is all yore senses wandered off, so you can’t see nothin’ but chain gangs an’ gallowses? I tell you, I’m goin’ to git off. If you’d got any spondulix from dat white man dat said he had gallon tin buckets o’ money—— Well, I’m gwine in dat post office to-night. I’m bleeged to have money. Den dat daybreak train.�
“What you drug me here for?� asked Isham’s frightened voice. “I got nothin’ to do wid you an’ yore desertin’. You come to my house an’——�
“You reckon I was gwine to stay here an’ starve?� snarled Cæsar.
“An’ makin’ me tell dat lie ’bout not seein’ Miss Anne,� grumbled Isham. “When dey finds out——�
“If you tell on me I’ll kill you, if it’s my last livin’ act,� Cæsar said fiercely.
“Uh, I ain’t gwine to tell; I ain’t nuver gwine to tell,� promised Isham, hastily. “But it don’t need me. Thar’s Miss Anne. What c’n you do to——�
“Kill her,� said Cæsar.
“Uh, my boy! my boy! Trouble! trouble!� moaned his father.
“Cæsar! Cæsar!� Isham’s voice was shocked and deprecating.
“Killin’ is saftest,� insisted Cæsar. “If you-all’s feered, leave it to me.�
“Naw! naw!� protested Isham. “Boy, if you do a killin’—— I know dese here white mens. Dey’re mighty soft an’ easy-goin’ long as you don’t make ’em mad. But if harm comes to dat gal, dey’ll grub thar way down to hell wid thar bare hands to git de man dat done it. You’ll nuver git away. I—I’ve heerd bloodhounds run,� he quavered.
Cæsar cowered. “You want to turn her loose, to start a search an’ git me cotch?� he asked sullenly.
“Naw. Just left her in dat hole awhile,� said Isham. “She don’t know yore name or nomernation. An’ ’fore folks find her, you’ll be gone.�
Cæsar thought it over. “Well,� he agreed. “If she stays thar two-three days—— Le’s take a look ’round to make shore thar ain’t no way she c’n climb out.�
“Thar wa’n’t nothin’ but de ladder, an’ you done took it out,� said Isham.
“Le’s make shore. If she come here to de openin’, folks mought hear her.�
Cæsar, followed by Isham and Solomon Gabe, went down the tunnel toward the pit.
Anne clutched Dick’s arm. “They’ll miss me and find us here,� she whispered. “Let’s get out. Let’s run.�
“Too near. Not time enough. Sh-sh!� Dick answered hurriedly.
Even then the negroes were coming back, in great excitement.
“Who put dat ladder thar? Who got her out?� Isham was saying wildly over and over.
“Come on!� Cæsar was urging, between oaths. “We got to ketch her ’fore she gits to de Village. Hit’s her life now; or mine!�
“Yas, yas! An’ I’ll stan’ by you!� Old Solomon Gabe ended with an awful, sobbing shriek.
Anne and Dick, cowering in the hole, felt as if wild, bloodthirsty beasts were on their trail. The fierce voices, the hurrying feet were close at hand. But they passed by. They went toward the ladder. And then voices and footsteps died away in the distance.