THE RECOGNITION
Miss Stuart and Mr. Winthrop Latham did not arrive in North Adams the
next morning.
A little before noon, Miss Sallie telegraphed to Ruth: "Must see Indian
woman before we join you. Proof of child's identity required. Wait."
Ruth showed her telegram to the girls.
Barbara shook her head. "More of the work of Mrs. Latham and Reginald,"
she suggested.
Soon after the receipt of Ruth's telegram, the afternoon before, Miss
Stuart telephoned Mr. Winthrop Latham, "Will you please come to the hotel
to see me immediately?"
Now, Miss Sallie realized her difficult position. How was she to protect
the interests of Eunice without accusing Mr. Latham's relatives of evil
designs against the child?
She called up Naki in Pittsfield and told him to come to her hotel that
evening. "Naki can tell Mr. Latham what I cannot," Miss Sallie reflected.
"He can report the visit of Mrs. Latham and Reginald to the Indian squaw,
and can make Mr. Latham see his sister's intentions."
Mr. Latham arrived first for the interview with Miss Stuart. He looked
worn and tired.
"My 'Automobile Girls' have run off with Eunice!" Miss Stuart at once
informed him.
"Why should there be any running away with the child?" Mr. Latham asked
impatiently. "I could very easily have gone up to the wigwam in the
morning. I think, in many respects, it will be wisest to see the Indian
woman and child on their own ground. To tell you the truth, Miss Stuart,
I shall require positive proofs that this Indian girl is the child that
my brother's Indian wife carried away from our home years ago."
"Certainly, Mr. Latham," Miss Stuart replied quietly. "I entirely agree
with you; but I think it may be possible to secure such proofs."
"I have been talking to my sister and nephew of this child," Mr. Latham
continued. "They regard the idea that this little Eunice is the daughter
of my brother's wife as absurd. They recalled the fact that we were
positively assured of the child's death. They do not believe it possible
that the Indian relatives would not have claimed the child's fortune for
her. There were a number of educated Indians living in the town of
Stockbridge at the time. My brother's wife took refuge with them after
leaving us."
"Then, Mr. Latham," Aunt Sallie rejoined, "if the Indian grandmother
cannot give you satisfactory proofs of the child's parentage, possibly
you can find the additional proofs in Stockbridge."
Mr. Latham was silent. He had not been sorry to be persuaded by Mrs.
Latham and Reginald that Eunice was an impostor.
Naki knocked at the door.
"I would rather not see visitors, Miss Stuart," Mr. Latham declared. "I
am entirely upset by this present situation."
"It is only our Indian guide, Naki," Miss Sallie explained. "I sent for
him."
"Naki," Miss Sallie began, as soon as the man entered the room. "My niece
has taken Eunice away for a few days. She told me to ask you to go up to
the wigwam and bring the Indian woman down to your house again."
Naki shut his lips together. "The Indian woman will not return to my
house," he said.
"Why not?" Miss Stuart asked, angrily. "It is much better for her to be
with you. She will die up there."
"She wishes to die up there," Naki avowed.
"Nonsense!" retorted Miss Stuart. "We cannot let her suffer so because of
the child."
"She is afraid to come down the hill again," Naki continued. "She is
afraid of the law."
"Why should she be afraid of the law?" inquired Mr. Latham.
"I cannot tell," Naki replied; "but the woman who came to my house with
her son told the old squaw she must hide. If her secret was discovered
she would be sent to prison."
"What woman and her son came to your house to see this squaw?" asked Mr.
Latham.
Miss Sallie sat with her hands tightly clasped, scarcely daring to
breathe. She had not dared to hope that her plan would work out so well.
"I do not know the lady," said Naki sullenly. "But the young man was
Reginald Latham. He was on the hill the day Eunice was hurt. He went with
us to the Indian woman's wigwam. She was angry at his coming." Naki
paused.
Mr. Winthrop Latham was frowning and looking down at the pattern of the
carpet. Miss Stuart knew he realized that his sister and nephew were
playing a double game which, for the time being, he preferred to ignore.
"Good-night, Miss Stuart," said Mr. Latham, a few minutes later. "I shall
join you in the morning. If the Indian woman is at Naki's house, I will
see her there; if not, I shall go to her wigwam. Notwithstanding all that
has happened, she must have satisfactory proofs."
Miss Stuart knew Mr. Latham now suspected that both his sister-in-law and
nephew were convinced of Eunice's identity.
"Naki," Miss Sallie asked, "at daylight, to-morrow, will you go to the
old squaw's wigwam? Tell her that she shall not be punished," continued
Miss Stuart. "I am very sorry for her."
Naki was looking at Miss Stuart. His solemn face expressed surprise. "Do
you mean you have found out about Eunice?" he asked.
"Certainly, Naki," Miss Stuart rejoined. "If you have known Eunice's
story, and have not told it before, you have behaved very badly. Tell the
Indian woman to bring what proofs she has to convince Mr. Latham that
little Eunice is the child of her daughter."
"I will," Naki promised. "But I knowed of Eunice in another way. There is
a man in Stockbridge as knows who the child is. He was a preacher once.
He is part Indian, part white. He was with Eunice's mother when she died.
She told him about the child, but begged him to keep it a secret. The
Indian mother did not want the child to go back to the Lathams. She was
afraid they would be unkind to her baby. The man told me the story
several years ago."
Miss Sallie was deeply interested. "Naki, when you bring the squaw to
your house in the morning, go to Stockbridge. Then find the man who knows
the story of Eunice, and bring him, too."
"You can count on me," were Naki's last words.
The next morning Miss Stuart and Mr. Latham drove to Naki's home. Neither
Naki nor the Indian woman was there!
Naki had left for the wigwam before five o'clock that morning. It was now
ten. There was nothing to do but wait.
At eleven o'clock Miss Sallie sent her telegram to Ruth. At noon she and
Mr. Latham still waited. There was no sign of Naki or the squaw.
"Don't you think we had better go up to the wigwam?" Mr. Latham asked
impatiently.
"We cannot find our way there without Naki or one of my girls," Miss
Sallie answered.
"What do you think has happened?" Miss Stuart asked Ceally. Ceally shook
her head.
"Something is the matter," she declared, "or Naki would have been here
with the old woman hours ago."
What had become of Naki?
At daylight he reached the hilltop, but no sound of life came from the
silent tent.
Naki called to the Indian squaw. There was no answer. "I come to bring
you news of Eunice!" he shouted. Still no answer.
He stalked inside the wigwam. The tent was deserted. The Indian woman had
disappeared.
Naki was puzzled. He searched the woods near the tent.
Half way down the hill Naki came across a small wooden box, half covered
with leaves. Naki opened it. In it he found half a dozen pieces of old
jewelry, and an old fashioned daguerreotype of an Indian girl holding a
baby in her arms.
Naki had been born and brought up in the woods. He kept his eyes turned
to the ground, thinking to trace the footprints of Mother Eunice down the
hill. On her departure she had, as she thought, buried her box of
treasures. Then she had gone--where?
Naki discovered, midway on the hill, two pairs of footprints, which
seemed to indicate that two persons had lately started up the hill. But
they must have given up and gone down again.
Naki made up his mind to go at once to Stockbridge. Even though he could
not trace the squaw, the testimony of the man who had seen Eunice's
mother die, the box of jewelry Naki had found--these proofs of Eunice's
identity would convince even Mr. Winthrop Latham.
Miss Stuart and Mr. Latham were at luncheon when Ceally entered the room.
Miss Sallie knew, at once, something had happened.
"What is it, Ceally?" she asked.
"They have come!" said Ceally.
"Who?" Mr. Latham demanded.
"Naki, the Indian woman, and another man," was Ceally's reply. There was
a short pause, and then the two entered.
Naki spoke first. He explained that he had found the Indian woman at
Stockbridge when he had given her up for lost. Then she told in her own
way that she had made up her mind to return to Stockbridge and ask help
from the man who, alone, knew the story of her grandchild's parentage.
The old squaw had completely broken down. She said that she knew that it
was best for Eunice to be allowed to come into her inheritance. She said
she remembered that Barbara had told her of Mrs. Latham and Reginald's
wish to keep Eunice concealed. She finished by telling that midway on the
hill, in the early dawn, she had met Reginald Latham and his mother
climbing up to her tent. The old squaw, who was wise, had told Mrs.
Latham that there was one man in Stockbridge who could prove who Eunice
was and that she would go and implore him to keep the child's parentage a
secret. Mrs. Latham and Reginald were delighted, and urged the old woman
to go.
Mr. Latham listened quietly to Mother Eunice's story and to that of the
man from Stockbridge, who bore the old woman witness.
It was a simple story. The Indian grandmother thought her daughter had
been unhappy because of her marriage into the Latham family, believing
the girl had been persecuted because of her Indian blood. So she wished
to spare her grandchild the same fate.
Mr. Latham was entirely convinced. Eunice was his niece.
"Come," he said, finally, to Miss Stuart. "Let us be off to our girls!"
"Mother Eunice," he said solemnly, shaking the old squaw's hand, "I
promise to be good to your child. You shall not be separated from her.
But she must be educated as other girls are. Stay here with Ceally and
Naki."
The Indian woman bowed her head. She had given in forever when she
surrendered Eunice to "The Automobile Girls" the afternoon before.
But what about Eunice and her protectors? They had not dared to leave the
hotel for fear that Aunt Sallie and Mr. Latham might arrive in their
absence.
So the girls were waiting with the best patience possible, curled up in
the chairs and on the sofa. Barbara was reading aloud. Little Eunice had
fallen fast asleep on the bed.
Suddenly Miss Sallie and Mr. Latham walked in unannounced.
"Well, this is a cosy party!" declared Mr. Latham, smiling.
Bab dropped her magazine, Ruth sat up straight in her chair, while Mollie
and Grace nearly rolled off their sofa.
Their noise wakened Eunice, who sat up in bed with her cheeks flushed.
Her black hair was massed about her face. She wore a red dressing gown
that Ruth had bought for her the night before. She was so pretty that Mr.
Latham was moved by her appearance.
But Eunice was frightened when she saw Mr. Latham--he was the man who had
stared at her so strangely--he was the man who meant to steal her, so, at
least, Reginald Latham had told Eunice. The little girl began to cry
softly.
Mollie started up to go to Eunice, but she stopped at a frown from Miss
Sallie. Mr. Latham was approaching Eunice.
"I am not going to hurt you, Eunice," he declared. "Do I look like the
bogie man, who lives in the woods and comes to steal away naughty
children?"
Eunice shook her head. "There are no bogie men in the woods. Wood fairies
are all good."
"Well, I am no kind of fairy, Eunice. I am an uncle. Do you know what an
uncle is?" Mr. Latham inquired.
Eunice shook her head again.
"O Eunice, an uncle can be the nicest person in the world!" Mollie
exclaimed. "And that is what Mr. Latham is going to be to you. Kiss him,
and tell him you mean to be good."
Mr. Winthrop Latham and little Indian Eunice kissed each other shyly and
solemnly. But in that kiss their affection was sealed.
What Reginald Latham and his mother thought of the discovery of the
relationship between Eunice and Mr. Winthrop Latham may be easily
imagined. Eunice as his niece would undoubtedly inherit a large portion
of his fortune. And how was Reginald to be provided for? Bent on the
effort to conceal the relationship, Reginald and his mother had started
long before dawn to walk up to the grandmother's hut, and, as the old
squaw had explained, had met her on the side of the hill. They had tried
to induce her to give them the name of the man in Stockbridge who knew of
Eunice's parentage, but the old woman was obdurate. Failing in this,
mother and son had returned to their home.