From an Unexpected Quarter
“It is downright ripping!” burst out Jack with explosive energy. Then he
dropped into sudden silence, and said never a word while Pam was guiding
the obstinate old horse as close to the door of the house as she could
persuade it to go. She stole a glance at him once, and was so awed by
the expression of his face that she turned her head quickly, for she
guessed he would not want her to know how he was feeling.
The horse had its own ideas about how close to the door of the house it
intended to draw the wagon, and being obstinate as a mule it planted its
fore feet wide apart in an attitude worthy of FitzJames when he cried:
“Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I”.
“If you were my horse you would have to come, but seeing you belong to
my neighbour it does not seem worth the trouble to make you,” said Pam,
giving in gracefully, determined not to let a small difference of
opinion between herself and the horse upset for her the joy of having
Jack reach Ripple safe and sound.
Sophy burst out of the door, coming at a run to welcome the traveller,
and chaffing Pam because she could not manage the stupid old horse.
“If it were merely stupid I could manage it fast enough,” replied Pam.
“It is so crafty, and I lose my temper in trying to circumvent it.” She
went round to the back of the wagon as she spoke, and started to haul
out the trunks which Jack had brought with him.
“What a lot of baggage for a boy!” cried Sophy. “Why, Jack, you must be
quite a dandy! How many dress suits have you brought with you?”
“Just you wait and see!” chuckled Jack, who had come out of his quiet
fit, and was ready to answer chaff with chaff, to laugh and see the
funny side of everything. “Of course I need football togs, and golfing
duds, a rowing rig-out, and another set of nautical clothes for when I
go out on my yacht. Then there are garments for sitting and for
standing, there are things to sleep in, a swimming outfit, a set of
go-to-meeting clothes, and—and a court dress, only I am afraid that
won’t be of much use in this part of the world, so any reasonable offer
will not be refused.”
“Don’t take any notice of him, Sophy,” said Pam, who was laughing at his
glib description of his fictitious wardrobe. “The boxes are crammed with
books, and things about the house that Mother thought he might as well
bring. I guess he has not many more clothes than what he is wearing, and
even those will be outgrown in a few months at the rate he is going on.
Shall we have a feed before I take the wagon back, or shall I drive the
horse and wagon back to Mrs. Buckle straight away?”
“Dinner is quite ready, and if you have it now I can get the dishes
washed while you are away,” replied Sophy.
“Have it now, by all means. I am almost hungry enough to start on eating
the old horse, although by the look of it the creature would be tough,”
said Jack. He ducked his head nearer to that of the animal, and worked
his jaws in a fashion so fierce and suggestive that the horse suddenly
started forward, drew the wagon close to the house door, and stopped
again, while the three laughed until the tears came, over the success of
Jack’s manœuvre.
They carried the luggage into the house, tied the horse to the
hitching-post and gave it a feed of hay, then went indoors to the dinner
which Sophy had ready for them. It was so warm that they had the door
wide open, letting in the sunshine, the scents of trees and flowers, and
the rippling notes of the bobolink in the big red maple near the house.
Oh! the forest was a delightful place on a day in early spring, and Pam,
stealing glances at Jack’s face, realized that behind the nonsense in
which he was indulging, he was fighting back a whole storm of emotion.
The two went off when the meal was over, to restore the horse and wagon
to Mrs. Buckle. When they came back there would be the afternoon
“chores” to get through, and a lot of other things which Pam had been
forced to neglect in order to reach Hunt’s Crossing in time to meet
Jack. Even then she had not reached the river until long after the boat
had passed. Last summer the boats up from Fredericton had done the
journey in the daytime, passing Hunt’s Crossing in the afternoon; now
they left the wharf of the city at midnight, and so reached the nearest
point for Ripple early in the day.
“Do we pass the fence that made all the trouble?” Jack asked, as the
horse moved away from the hitching-post, and broke into a shambling trot
when it found it had its head towards home.
“Yes, I will show you,” said Pam, and then they began to talk of the
mystery of their grandfather’s disappearance afresh.
“I can’t see why he needed to run away at all,” said Jack. “The two men
quarrelled, and started to fight, I expect, and for aught we know
Grandfather might have been as badly hurt as the other man. He might
even have crawled into the shelter of the trees to die. I say, Pam,
where was it the bones were found when you were sugaring? Anywhere near
here?”
“No, miles away in an opposite direction,” she answered. “Besides, you
forget the money which had been taken from Grandfather’s desk was found
with those remains. I thought, as you have done, that he might have
crept into the woods to die, and I tramped through the undergrowth in
every direction last fall; the police hunted too. But he has been seen
alive since then, you know.”
Jack nodded.
“I had forgotten that. I don’t suppose it is of any use for me to try to
spring new theories on to you, seeing that you have been on the spot,
and have had all the winter to think the matter round. You will have to
be patient with me when I start any extra silly idea about it. But I
can’t rest while we don’t know what has become of him. It does not seem
right to enjoy being here either, for it is his place, and not ours at
all.”
Pam nodded her head sadly.
“That is just how I feel about it. But there are two sides to think of,
and if we were not here just think how the place would go to ruin! We
are doing our best for him, and keeping the home together. If we can be
happy while we are doing it, so much the better for us, and our
happiness does not injure him if he is alive, nor is it any disrespect
to him if he has gone.”
Jack gave a non-committal grunt, and then sat in silence, staring at the
mighty trees which walled in the trail, or stood singly or in groups
here and there, the lesser growths crowding about the big trunks like
children round a mother’s knee.
“There is Mrs. Buckle, and that is her house,” Pam exclaimed presently,
as they emerged from the forest and began to cross the fields. “Is it
not strange that she has been one of my kindest friends?”
“Yes, it seems to me against nature,” he answered shortly. “It is one of
the things that make me think that perhaps after all Grandfather had no
hand in hurting Sam Buckle; for if he had, her instinct would have been
dead against her being friends with you. And a woman usually follows her
instinct, while a man trusts to his judgment. You need not laugh; I told
you I should be springing all sorts of silly theories upon you about
every ten minutes or so.”
“I am not going to laugh at you,” said Pam, turning a face that was
deeply troubled upon him. “But, Jack, if Grandfather did not hurt the
other man, why did he disappear? Where is he now? And why was his axe
found beside the poor fellow? Why, too, did Sam Buckle keep muttering
that it was his right?”
“I’m not a blooming detective!” growled Jack, who looked every bit as
troubled as his sister. “But this I do know, that there are mostly two
ways of explaining everything—a wrong way and a right. It is possible
that all, or nearly all, your reasonable explanations are wrong ones,
after all.”
“What solemn faces you have both got!” exclaimed Mrs. Buckle, as she
hurried to meet them. She told Jack that he was a great acquisition,
that the forest wanted young men more than it wanted anything, and that
she was very glad indeed to see him there.
“Thank you, ma’am: I am sure that I am very glad to be here,” said Jack
politely; and then he followed Mrs. Buckle round her small domain,
listening in interested silence to all she had to say about things. He
was as fond as most boys of talking and giving his opinion on this and
that. But he was up against a most complete ignorance of the things she
was discussing, so he had the sense to keep quiet until he knew
something about it all.
Then Pam came along from the barn, where she had been to unhitch the
horse; but because he was unwilling to go just yet, Jack pulled out his
watch to see the time.
“Why, Jack, I did not know that you had a watch!” cried Pam in surprise.
“Where did you get it from?”
“I bought it in St. John,” replied Jack. “Colonel Seaford came with
Mother to see me on board. He gave me a sovereign to do what I liked
with. Mother said I had better have a look round the second-hand shops
in St. John when I landed, to see if I could buy a watch with the money,
because she had not been able to get me one. I saw this priced at three
dollars, and so I bought it. It is a jolly good one to go, and it is a
fair size for the money.”
“What an old-fashioned watch!” cried Pam. “It looks good, though. See,
Mrs. Buckle, wouldn’t you say that it was a good one?”
Mrs. Buckle took the watch which Pam handed to her, and turned it over
in her hand. Pam noticed that she went very pale. Then she pressed the
spring that opened the back, and immediately uttered a startled cry.
“It is Sam’s watch that was stolen from him before he died!”
It was Pam’s turn to become white now. Her cheeks were colourless, and
her eyes dilated with fear as she gasped:
“How do you know? How can you be sure of a thing like that?”
Mrs. Buckle held the watch towards her with shaking hands.
“See that!” she whispered hoarsely. “Just down there by the keyhole—M.
P. That stands for Moses Pratt, which was my father’s name. He scratched
the initials there himself. Don’t you see how he boggled the loop of the
P? He said it was easy enough to do the strokes, it was the curves that
were the trouble. It is Sam’s watch. I would swear to it before any jury
in the Dominion. Do you see that mark there?—I mean the little dash by
the side of the name. That stands for my father’s marriage. The next
little dash means me; he put it there when I was born. His record of
blessings, he called it. Then the dot underneath was put when Mother
died; and when Father was dying he used to say he had been such a
fortunate man, for he had only one dot to two dashes!”
Mrs. Buckle broke down over her reminiscences, and sobbed aloud. Jack
looked supremely uncomfortable, just as if he would have liked to run
away. It was Pam who realized what had to be done.
“You must give her the watch.” The whisper was inaudible to the sobbing
Mrs. Buckle, but Jack heard it and made a wry face, which was not to be
wondered at. A boy’s first watch is mostly a treasured possession, and
Mrs. Buckle was only a stranger. He had not even lived in touch with the
tragic happenings of last fall, as Pam had done, so he was to be
forgiven his momentary unwillingness to yield the watch he had valued so
much. He was made of good stuff, though; for as Mrs. Buckle caught her
breath on an extra big sob, and looked up to put a request to him,
before she could utter one word of it he had thrust his hand out with a
hasty movement, and was saying hurriedly:
“You will keep the watch, of course. I had no idea that it had been
stolen. I am very glad that I have been able to bring it back to you.”
“Stolen!” cried Pam, aghast at the word. “Jack, Grandfather must have
taken it!”
“We can’t be sure of that. All the same, it was stolen, whoever did it,
seeing it was not his own,” said Jack with a sullen note in his voice;
and he was turning away in a great hurry, for the scene was too
emotional for him, when he knocked against a man who had come upon the
group without being noticed, and who was standing staring at the watch
in Mrs. Buckle’s hand.
“Hullo! I beg your pardon,” he said, expecting to be pulled up for his
carelessness.
The man took no notice of him, only stared at Mrs. Buckle, who, now
becoming aware of his presence, held the watch toward him, saying
eagerly:
“See here, Mose Paget, this boy, Miss Walsh’s brother from England, has
got my husband’s watch, and I knew it again directly. Isn’t it just
wonderful?”
The man shook his head slightly, then said in a gruff voice:
“I don’t see anything very remarkable about it myself. Everyone knows
that Wrack Peveril stole the watch from poor Sam, so what more natural
than he should give it to his grandson?”
Jack flamed with sudden wrath, and thrusting out his fist he shook it
within an inch of the tip of Mose Paget’s nose.
“Are you insinuating that my grandfather was a thief?” he asked; and Pam
shivered at the thrill in his quiet voice. He was one of the most
even-tempered people she knew, but when he did get roused he flared into
hotter anger than any of them.
Mose laughed in a casual fashion that was infinitely irritating, then
swung round with his back to Jack, as if the boy in his righteous anger
were a thing of no account at all. He addressed himself again to Mrs.
Buckle.
“I have come to say that I can’t take on that job we talked about. I
have had an offer to join a man out west, and he wants me to go
to-night.”
“But a bargain is a bargain,” expostulated Mrs. Buckle, who for the
moment forgot the miraculous finding of the treasured watch, while she
threshed out the matter in hand. “You said that you would see me through
the farmwork this summer, you agreed upon the price and everything, and
you can’t back out now.”
“Can’t I?” The man smiled in an ugly, aggravating fashion. “I guess, now
my chance has come to better myself, I am going to take it. It isn’t a
woman that is going to turn me when I have made up my mind. I should be
obliged if you would pay me what is owing, as I’ve to get down river
to-night, so as to catch the cars for the west to-morrow.”
Mrs. Buckle’s mouth set itself in lines of stern determination.
“I suppose I can’t force you to stay here and keep your word, but I can
do as I like about paying you, and not a cent-piece shall you have
before the end of the week. I am not used to paying every minute a lazy
man wants his money, and, being a lone woman, I don’t keep no hard cash
worth speaking of in the house, not being willing to have it stolen. If
you want to go down river to-night you will have to go without that
money, and I will pay it to Reggie—or are you going to take him with
you?”
“No, I can’t be bothered with a kid at my heels all day,” rejoined Mose
in a sulky tone. Hearing this, Pam felt again the swift repulsion for
the man that was so nearly detestation; and yet, as she told herself,
the man was not all bad, for had he not saved her life, and that at the
risk of his own?
“Well, you won’t have the money, that is flat. I have not got it in the
house for you,” said Mrs. Buckle; and then she burst into stormy
invective because of the way he was treating her, in going off in this
fashion and leaving her with the summer’s work on her hands.
Pam stepped a little closer to her as the man turned away.
“Never mind, dear Mrs. Buckle,” she said. “Jack and I will see you
through. We don’t know much, it is true; but we are strong and can work,
and we will take your land on as well as our own, so you will not be
left in the lurch.”
“Yes, we will see you through, never you fear!” put in Jack. Then he
burst out in a stormy fashion: “You are not going to believe that
Grandfather is a thief, Mrs. Buckle, or that I knew I had no right to
the watch?”
“Of course not. What a silly boy it is!” Mrs. Buckle looked up at the
sky, as if she were talking to someone above her head, and she took no
notice at all of Mose Paget, who hovered still in the background, as if
to see if there was any chance that she would pay up. “It is not at
Ripple that I shall look when I want to find the thief. Don’t you think
that I have sense enough to know an honest man when I see one?”
“Is it me you are wanting to call a thief?” burst out Mose, looking as
if he would do her an injury there and then, while his face was fairly
convulsed with anger.
Mrs. Buckle looked him over with a calm scorn that made him wince.
“I have always found you honest,” she said; then added, with a suspicion
of malice in her tone, “but then I have always believed that it was
opportunity that made the thief, and it is precious little opportunity
you have had in my house to be anything but an honest man.”
“You are right enough there!” retorted Mose with hearty spite. “Yours is
reckoned the meanest house in the township, and the stuff that is thrown
away would not keep a sparrow. The mice die from want of nourishment,
and the one or two rats that I have seen were just walking skeletons.
Talk about the tender mercies of a woman! Why, you are the meanest
creature alive!”
“Well, Amanda is fat enough even if the vermin are thin,” replied Mrs.
Buckle with a jolly laugh at being able to get the last word. Then she
said sternly: “Now, Mose Paget, if you are not going to keep your side
of the bargain, out you get, and that sharp, for I don’t allow no lazy,
idle vagabonds to sauce me twice. Now, then, get!”
For a moment Mrs. Buckle stared into the face of the furious man, while
he glared back at her; then, without another word, he swung round on his
heel and took the trail which led east to the river, although his home
was in the opposite direction.
“It looks funny, that it does!” Mrs. Buckle remarked as if talking to
herself, and seeming for the moment quite unaware of the others standing
near her. “Something has scared him pretty badly, or my name is not
Martha Buckle. I don’t believe he has seen anyone this morning. If any
stranger had been about the place surely I should have known about it.”
“Perhaps he had the offer made to him yesterday, only did not feel
disposed to take it then,” put in Pam. Then, mindful of the long time
they had been lingering, she said: “We must go now, Mrs. Buckle, but one
of us will be over to-morrow to see how you are getting on, and if you
want us before that, just send Amanda to Ripple to fetch us.”
“You can’t go yet; I must know about this,” said Mrs. Buckle, indicating
the watch in her hand. “Then I want to pay your brother the value of
it.”
“Oh, Jack would not take money for it!” cried Pam. “Especially after
that most hateful thing said by Mose Paget, about Grandfather having
stolen it and given it to Jack.”
“Of course I don’t want to be paid for what was not my own,” agreed
Jack; but he was sore at heart all the same, for he had valued that
watch very highly. It was such a substantial affair, and it made him
feel as if he were almost, if not quite a man.
Mrs. Buckle laughed.
“Do you think I am really as hard up as I would have Mose Paget
believe?” she asked, and her voice dropped to a cautious undertone. “It
is quite true I have almost no money in the house, and I have kept none
there ever since that mysterious theft from Ripple leaked out. But there
are other places in which to keep money. You tell me how much this watch
is worth to you, then go into the house and sit down while I find the
cash, do you hear?”
“Yes, but I am not going to do it,” said Jack hurriedly. “Come along,
Pam, it is time we were marching.”
The two marched off in spite of Mrs. Buckle’s protestations, and when
they were well on their way Jack turned to Pam, demanding: “What do you
think now?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she answered sadly.
“I think that you are all working on a wrong idea, and that poor old
Grandfather was as innocent as I am of any hand in hurting Sam Buckle!”
Jack’s voice had a confident, happy ring that was most inspiring. He had
a host of theories, too, and he treated Pam to so many of them on the
way back to Ripple that she arrived at home almost disposed to believe
he might be right; only the circumstantial evidence of the axe being
found near to Sam Buckle, and that other still more damaging fact of her
grandfather’s disappearance, were so hard to explain away.