“MAMMY’S BOY”
Herbert Scott was not a coward--indeed, his errand, deep in the woods
above the Baring house on the afternoon when Colonel Thomas came to see
Elizabeth, proved him courageous.
His anonymous and unpleasant communications had not been threats or
warnings, but taunts. The mountaineers seemed to have come to the
conclusion that he was worth nothing, that he was a mere appendage
attached to the proverbial apron-string of his sister.
The taunts were never uttered when Elizabeth was within hearing.
Herbert, bending over a garden-bed, heard from the woodland a shrill
“Mammy’s boy! Mammy’s boy!” then a laugh. At first he had walked
directly toward the sound, but he never could see who had uttered it.
He knew, sometimes, that the speaker receded before him; there was
a rustle in the leaves and underbrush, and sometimes the call was
repeated at increasing distances. But more often, he could neither see
nor hear a living soul.
But now, on the afternoon when he had gone to look up the boundary
lines, the taunts changed to a more serious approach. Suddenly he found
himself looking into a gun-barrel. He recognized at once the holder of
the gun and stood still. He did not throw up his hands or make any sign
of surrender, but he felt the blood recede from his heart.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I want that paper,” answered Sheldon, sullenly and with determination.
There was also another quality in the thick tones--could it be fright?
Herbert was wholly mystified.
“What paper?”
“The paper the girl got from Old Mammy. Mammy’s holdin’ it up to tease
me! Mammy’s crazy; what she says won’t go, but we want the paper.”
“I don’t know anything about a paper.”
“You lie!” cried Sheldon.
A little of the blood returned to Herbert’s heart. He squared his
shoulders.
“I do not lie!”
“You’ve got it hidden somewhere to make trouble. Fork it out! We won’t
make no trouble for them that makes no trouble for us. She got the
road-maker to help her; one of them writ his name on it. Mammy brags
about it.”
Herbert was completely bewildered.
“I know nothing about it.”
“Well, then, you come with me an’ perhaps you’ll learn something.”
“My horse is tied over there.”
“Don’t worry about your horse. Come on.”
Herbert obeyed. There was no question as to the seriousness of
Sheldon’s intentions and there was no question about the deadly power
of his loaded gun. He led the way slowly and cautiously down through
the woods toward the house. Did he mean to corral Elizabeth also?
Even in his terror and despair Herbert hoped that Elizabeth was
not at home. Surely she could have no paper which belonged to these
desperadoes!
Before they reached the edge of the woods where they could look out on
the old house, two men met them. One was a shorter man than Sheldon
with glowering eyes and a black beard which made him look like a
pirate. Elizabeth would have recognized him as the “Black Smith” whom
Colonel Thomas had described. The other was “Bud.”
“She’s went off,” Black Smith announced. “She’s far down the road.”
“Come on,” ordered Sheldon. “We’ll find that paper.”
He marched Herbert into the kitchen and made him open the doors of
the cupboard. Then they went through the house, from cellar to attic.
Confident that he would find nothing, Herbert searched thoroughly.
Under Elizabeth’s bureau cover, he found the two warning papers. His
eyes blazed.
“I never saw these. I should think you’d be ashamed of yourselves, big
men trying to frighten a girl!”
“And a little mammy’s boy!” said Sheldon in an ugly tone.
Then Sheldon took from his pocket a stump of a lead pencil and another
piece of paper and wrote another bulletin.
“She’ll know what to do when she finds that,” said he. “Now march!”
Herbert went out the front door and round the house into the woods as
he was directed. At the wood’s edge, Black Smith fell in with them; the
other remained behind.
“What are you going to do with my sister?” demanded Herbert.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” answered Sheldon. “I want the paper,
I don’t want your sister. Wishin’ she’d come an’ take care of you, are
you, mammy’s boy?”
Herbert made no answer. Now Black Smith took a share in the
conversation.
“The mountain people don’t stand for no nonsense,” said he. “They ain’t
like the people of the plain. The people of the plain says one thing
and means another, while the mountain people says one thing and sticks
to it. The mountain people--”
“Shut up!” commanded Sheldon, whether in weariness of Black Smith’s
loquacity or because he thought silence best, it was hard to say. There
was a surprising sentimentality about Black Smith.
“You talk too much,” said Sheldon.
The three looked back. From their position they could see past the
corner of the house to a spot of color still vivid in the afternoon
light. Sheldon lifted his gun.
“Don’t do that!” cried Herbert.
But Sheldon only laughed. A bullet struck the spot of bright color and
the flag fluttered a little.
“Hit it!” said Sheldon with satisfaction.
“You rascal!” cried Herbert.
Sheldon laughed again as though pleased with himself.
“I shot at that rag many times,” said he. “Off with you! March!”
When they had penetrated into the deep woods, Herbert remembered poor
Joe.
“I told you that my horse is tied up there,” said he. “He can’t even
crop the grass.”
“We’ll settle him,” said Sheldon. To Herbert his tone was vicious.
Would they shoot the poor beast or torture him?
But Sheldon had no such cruel intention, although he lifted his gun at
sight of the old animal, now restless and whinnying.
“Oh, don’t!” cried Herbert.
The bullet did not touch the horse, but only the strap which held him.
Joe lifted head and heels. The quick motion tore the pierced bridle
through and Joe was gone, bounding over the rocks and through thickets
as though on a smooth race-course.
Once or twice Herbert was given directions to walk toward the right
or the left. Otherwise his captors did not speak. Black Smith had
evidently accepted reproof, for he said no more about the “mountain
people.”
Herbert began presently to stumble over stones and projecting roots. It
was now almost dark and his head was dizzy. They seemed after a while
to have stepped into a rough road, even a road upon which some work had
recently been done. If so, he was not being entirely separated from the
rest of mankind. Then a thought startled him. Sheldon had spoken of
road-makers in connection with this mysterious paper. There evidently
had been road-makers in the neighborhood. But Elizabeth could not have
come as far as this!
At last, when it seemed to Herbert that he had walked almost all
night, he began to hear voices, and in a moment saw a faint light. The
light was darkened, apparently, by the passing of an object before it.
Another man joined them, and still another.
“Sit down!” ordered Sheldon.
“Where?” asked Herbert.
Sheldon took him by the arm and guided him to what appeared to be the
doorway of a cabin. He sat down, breathing uncomfortably a heavy human
and canine odor which seemed to emanate from within the cabin. Sheldon
whistled and Herbert felt a panting creature pass him.
“Watch him!” ordered Sheldon.
Herbert heard the sound of retreating steps, of other growls, of voices
near at hand. One was a woman’s.
“You’ll bring destruction on yourselves!” she cried. “You’re plottin’
an’ plannin’ your own ruin an’ downfall! The State police won’t stand
the carrying off of men, they--”
The speech ended abruptly, almost as though a period had been put to it
by force.
Herbert heard Sheldon’s sharp “Shut up, Jinny!” and another whine
from Black Smith about the “mountain people.” Then he sat motionless,
hearing the heavy breathing of the watch-dog, though he could not see
him. When he stretched out his tired legs, the dog growled menacingly.
He had seen either this dog or one like him with Sheldon, a tall, gaunt
animal with a bristling collar of fur, and he had no intention of
risking an attack.
His eyes strained in vain to pierce the darkness, but he could see
nothing, not even the light. He surmised that there were tall trees
near by; he could hear the leaves stirring gently far above his head.
Even the voices had ceased to sound. Had his captors gone to bed, or
had they shut themselves in somewhere to discuss his fate?
Sometimes waves of weakness rushed over poor Herbert, but they were
not waves of fright. Elizabeth would long ago have found the paper and
would have gone for help. He believed that by morning he might expect
her. The summary treatment which he had received had wrought a change
in him. The high-handedness of his capture enraged him. He lifted his
head and said the words that Elizabeth had said weeks before, “They
shall not drive us away!” He had no affection for the house of John
Baring, and he shared but few of Elizabeth’s fond dreams of clearing
his grandfather’s name of its stain, but he would not be coerced in
this fashion. He despised the neighborhood which had for so long
tolerated these desperadoes.
He was mistaken about the flight of time. Twilight had seemed to come
early because the woods were thick and because it was cloudy, and the
journey had seemed hours long because of his weariness. It was not yet
eleven o’clock when Sheldon and Black Smith returned with the two other
men. Did these, together with the man left at the house, represent the
total able-bodied forces?
They carried with them old lanterns, made of tin and pierced with
holes, and they sat down in a semi-circle before the door of the cabin
or dog-kennel whichever it might be. Sheldon, who seemed to lead them
in everything, spoke first.
“Now, boy, we want that paper, an’ we believe there is one way to get
it. You write an’ tell your sis to send it up here. Then you can go,
prompt.”
Black Smith was, it seemed, like many orators, not to be permanently
suppressed.
“People have got to be learned that there’s no foolin’ with the
mountain people,” said he.
“I don’t know anything about any paper,” insisted Herbert. “My sister
didn’t tell me anything about a paper.”
“You don’t need to know anything about the paper,” said Sheldon. “We
tell you that the girl got a sworn paper from Mammy an’ Mammy’s out of
her head an’ she talks too much. She don’t know what she’s sayin’, but
a sworn lie holds for the truth.” He leaned forward and laid a scrap of
paper on Herbert’s knee. “You tell her that you’re here an’ that you’re
safe, an’ that she shall send the paper, then by morning you can go.”
“I can’t make her send it.”
Sheldon laughed.
“She’ll send it to get her baby boy!” said he.
The insulting words brought Herbert to his feet.
“She won’t do anything of the kind. She’s gone for help, long ago, I
can tell you that. Do you think she’ll sit down there and do nothing?
You don’t know her! We were told that the instant you gave us any
trouble we could have the constabulary come up here. They’ll wipe
you out! They’ve got your deeds recorded! They’ll punish you for the
present and the past.”
A dark figure appeared in the faint speckled circle of lamplight.
“I told you so!” said the woman’s voice, which Herbert had heard
before. “Destruction is waiting for us! Destruction from our airless
lives, according to the nurse, and destruction from the guns of the
soldiers.”
Sheldon rose muttering.
“Git out of here, Jinny!”
The woman moved backward.
“She’s exactly right,” said Herbert. “One of you has sense, anyhow!”
But Jinny’s tirade was not taken seriously by her kinsfolk. Sheldon
returned and sat down heavily.
“You don’t suppose, boy, that we left her free to run round over the
country, do you?”
Herbert shivered. Was a gun-barrel pointed also at Elizabeth?
Nevertheless, he did not believe that she would follow the dictation
of any gun-barrel. He saw the desperation of these outlaws on one side
and Elizabeth’s indifference to danger and her anger at injustice on
the other. There was also another element. Elizabeth would be wild
with fear for him. At that thought Herbert’s cheeks reddened in the
darkness. She would not expect him to be able to help himself!
“Write what we tell you,” said Sheldon, tapping him on the knee.
Herbert glanced down at the paper. The dark night, which seemed
actually to press down upon him, the encircling men, the den behind
him, the ferocious dogs lurking in the shadow--he was acutely conscious
of all. He had always been taken care of by Elizabeth, and now he
saw the words formed by his hand, “For my sake, Elizabeth, send them
whatever paper you have!”
But what paper was it? Why had she not told him about it? She had no
business to keep him in ignorance! What motive could she have had?
Then Herbert answered his own question. Elizabeth’s motive was never
a selfish one; she wished always to spare and defend him. Perhaps she
had thought that she had found a clue, and losing it, had not wished to
disappoint him. Perhaps she had come upon some fact which had ended all
her hopes. She had seemed quieter of late. Perhaps, on the other hand,
she had really found a clue, and by appealing to her to save him, he
would spoil everything.
He looked up. He believed again that, even in the dim light, he saw
fear in the scowling faces. What dreadful secrets this distant corner
of the mountain might hide! What crimes might have been committed here,
undiscovered, perhaps unsuspected! An old woman might well, in her
dotage, cry out facts at which her family would be terrified! The blood
now rushed through Herbert’s veins.
“You’ve told her what you want,” said he. “She’ll have to decide for
herself. I won’t write anything--not a word!”
There was an angry murmur. Black Smith began to declaim.
“You needn’t think the mountain people’ll stand for such talk,” said he
wildly. “You--”
“Shut up!” commanded Sheldon.
Then Sheldon himself uttered a sentence of more weighty import. He
accompanied it with a sharp stroke of his fist on Herbert’s knee.
“We can bury you in the grave with your gran’pappy, if that’s what you
want,” said he. “He was a betrayer.”
At that there came a cry from outside the circle. Again Jinny had come
close to the group in front of the cabin door.
“You’ll see destruction soon enough!” she warned.
Sheldon got to his feet and whistled. Two great dogs bounded toward him.
“Watch him!” he commanded.
At once he and his mates went off into the darkness.