JIMMIE AND TEDDY MISS A MEAL
"I was scared to come up until I heard your voice," the old lady
said, as she came close to Ned. "I didn't know you were only a boy."
The woman appeared to be very old. Her hair was white and her lean
face was wrinkled and leathery with time and storm and exposure to
the winds of the hills. Still, old as she seemed to be, she walked
alertly, with the swinging grace of the true mountain woman. She was
very plainly dressed in a one-piece gown of dark calico. Her head was
not covered at all, and the white hair took on a tinge of gold from
the distant campfire. Her black eyes were sharp, yet kindly in
expression.
"Good evening, mother," Ned said, removing his cap as he greeted the
old lady, "we didn't expect to meet ladies here. Do you live in this
locality?"
"Quite a step," the old lady said, in a gentle, hesitating tone,
"quite a bit down the slope is where I live. I wanted to know what
the fire meant, and so I came up. You don't mind my being here, do
you?"
"Glad to have you come!" Ned responded, truthfully. "If you care to
come up to our camp we'll be glad to give you a cup of tea and
whatever else you want."
"I'll be glad to get a cup of tea," the woman declared. "We don't get
tea up here in the mountains--not very often. We don't have the money
to pay for it, and, then it is such a long way to go after it. Yes,
I'll go with you."
Ned noted that the woman did not speak the dialect of the mountains.
He wondered how long she had lived there, and if she lived alone. She
did not long leave him in doubt on these points, for she seemed
anxious to talk.
"I'm Mary Brady," she said, as they ascended the slope toward the
fire. "I came here years ago with my husband, Michael Brady, to live
in peace. Mike was a good man when he was himself, but the saloon men
of New York were always after him when he had any money. We came here
to be rid of them."
"That was the correct thing to do, it strikes me," Ned said, for want
of something better, as she seemed to expect some friendly comment.
"I don't know," she went on. "We meant it for the best--but there was
the moonshine! I didn't know about the moonshine when we came here.
All I thought of was to get away from Houston street! He fell one day
and they brought him home dead."
Ned was strangely interested in this simple life history. The poor
old woman living there, probably alone and in want, after such an
ending to a hopeful plan!
"And you kept on here?" he asked. "Why didn't you go back to the
city?"
"There was the boy," she answered. "He was ten when we came here. I
didn't want him to get the thirst! After Mike died I lived here to
keep him in the good path. He is a good boy, but when he was twenty
they got him, too--the moonshiners!"
"And he left you?" asked Ned.
"He said he couldn't make anything of himself here, so he went to
Washington. He's never come back, though I've always kept a home for
him, and never ceased to look for him. He writes me now and then that
he's coming home, but he doesn't come! When I saw your fire I thought
he might be with you."
By this time they were at the camp, and Mary Brady was presented to
the boys and made comfortable by the fire, with tea and canned fruit
before her. She enjoyed the lunch immensely and looked the gratitude
she did not speak.
"When did you hear from your boy last?" asked Frank, by way of
keeping the conversation going. "Did he write from Washington? Was it
to Washington you said he went?"
"It was Washington," was the reply. "He wrote me a month or more ago
that he would be here with friends in June. I thought he might be
with you. He has been married since he left home, and has a child,
though his wife is dead."
"And he said he was thinking of bringing the child here?" asked Ned,
glancing significantly at Frank. "Did he say that in his last
letter?"
"Yes, that he was thinking of bringing the boy here. It is only a
mite of a boy--not more than seven years old, he said. I'm anxious
for him to come."
Jack and Oliver gathered closer about the old lady in order to hear
every word that was spoken. One brought her more tea and the other
filled the sauce dish with peaches. Ned motioned to them to remain
silent.
"And so you expect him to drop down on you any time?" Ned asked.
"Yes, my son and the boy. He's a cute little chap, Mike says. Mike
was named for his father, and the lad's name is Mike, too. I'm
anxious for him to get here. And I'm wondering whether he's light and
blonde, with brown hair and blue eyes like his father, or dark, like
my side of the family.
"What do you make of it?" Jack whispered to Oliver.
"What do I make of what?" demanded the other.
"Of the old lady and her three Mikes?" replied Jack, scornfully.
"Have you been asleep all this time?"
"I was waiting for you to express an opinion," Oliver declared. "Do
you think it possible that they would change the name of a prince of
the royal blood to Mike?"
"So you've caught on, at last!" whispered Jack. "Do you really think
we've tumbled on a streak of luck at the send-off?"
"I don't know," was the hesitating reply. "We'll have to cultivate
this old lady."
"Sure thing!"
"Did she say where her cottage is?" asked Oliver, directly. "We ought
to verify her story, it seems to me. I'd like to hear Ned's opinion!"
"Do you remember what she said about Mike II. having blonde hair and
blue eyes?" asked Jack, presently.
"Sure!" was the answer. "That made me sit up and take notice. It
brought back to my memory the light brown hair on the bloody blade of
the shears."
"Same here," announced Jack. "If this Mike II. comes here we'll have
to find out if he has a cicatrice on the right thumb and a scar on
the head, a scar which might have been brought about by a pair of
shears thrown by a frightened maid in the city of New York!"
"Think of a crown prince being called Mike!" chuckled Oliver.
"Ned didn't say it was a crown prince!"
"He might just as well have said it! He didn't dispute me when I
asked if it was a crown prince who had been abducted."
"If Jimmie and Teddy don't return soon," Jack said, changing the
subject, "we'll have to start the Boy Scout Camera Club out looking
for them."
"They'll be back when they get hungry!" laughed the other.
But Jimmie and Teddy were still away when the moon rose over the
ridge to the east. Mrs. Brady was still by the campfire. She appeared
to delight in the companionship of the boys. Having lived alone for
years, she would have been delighted at any companionship whatever,
but the boys were full of life and vitality, they were sympathetic,
and, besides, they were from her old home--New York!
As the moon showed her round face over the summit of the range to the
east she arose and stretched out a withered hand to Ned.
"I'm going," she said. "I've had a pleasant evening. You don't know
how much it has been to me to sit here and talk with you! If you'll
come down to my cabin some day I'll try to make it pleasant for you!"
"Some day," laughed Ned. "What do you say to my going right now? Of
course I've got to see you home! Couldn't think of letting you go
away alone."
"I've walked these mountains night and day for more than twenty
years," faltered the old lady, "and I'm not afraid now!"
"You don't object to my going?" asked Ned.
"I'm awful glad to have you go," was the reply. "But you'll find it a
long walk, there and back," she added.
"If it is too far for me to walk back," Ned laughed, "you may give me
a bunk on the floor! Anyway, I'm going to see you home!"
As the boy spoke he beckoned to Frank to step to one side with him.
"Of course this looks all straight, on the face of it," he said, when
the two were alone together, "but one can never tell. We've got to be
pretty careful, for we are in a strange country, and are here for a
purpose which may be resented by the mountaineers. We can't afford to
take any chances."
"Do you suspect the old lady?" asked Frank, in amazement.
"I don't know what to think," was the hesitating reply. "The first
night we spend in a permanent camp, up she comes with a story about a
son being about to bring in a boy of seven for her to mother! Then,
as if that wasn't enough of a bait for us to snap at, she goes on to
say that the son is blonde, with light brown hair and blue eyes.
Looks like we were being led on!"
"You bet it does," Frank replied. "Jimmie and Teddy have disappeared,
and this may be a frame-up, and so I wouldn't go off alone with her.
And, look here," Frank went on, "do you believe Uncle Ike would have
kicked, and screamed, and made a row generally, if only this old lady
had approached him? Do you, now?"
"She might have frightened him," Ned replied, "for he may not be used
to women. Still, she may have had some one with her! I was thinking
that Uncle Ike sounded a warning on slight cause," he added.
"Well, if I were you, I wouldn't go away alone with her," advised
Frank. "Let me go with you if you insist on going."
"Of course I've got to go now," Ned went on. "I've promised her, and
she is expecting me to go. But I'll tell you what you may do. You can
wait until I have gone some distance and then follow on behind, not
so as to be seen by any other person trailing us, but still close
enough to be available in case of trouble."
"All right," Frank agreed. "I'll keep back far enough to see any one
who might be following the two of you! I wish Jimmie was here! He'd
be just the one to go with me. And there's always something doing
when Jimmie is around!"
"I'm worried about those boys!" Ned answered. "I'm going to keep a
sharp lookout for them, all the way to the cabin."
"There's something wrong," Frank hastened to say. "They never would
have remained away from camp like this. And without supper, too!
Jimmie is particular to be on hand when it comes to eating time.
There! There's Uncle Ike talking in his sleep! I wonder what's eating
him now? Shall I go and see?"
"No," Ned said, hastily, seizing Frank by the arm. "Don't even look
in that direction. Watch Mrs. Mary Brady!"
The old woman's face was turned toward the spot where the mules were
staked out, her figure was straight, tense, alert. She appeared to be
listening and watching for some agreed-upon signal from the corral.
Ned moved over toward her cautiously.
Once the old woman moved, involuntarily, toward the mules, but she
drew back in a moment and stood, waiting, with her eyes on the boys,
now in a little group not far from the spot where she stood.