TOM’S PLAN.
“There are one or two other things I should like to have you explain,
Tom,” said I, after a little pause. “Who stole Black Bess?”
“That is another act which you can lay to my charge,” replied my fellow
prisoner. “I knew by the way you fellows looked and acted that day that
it would be well for me to keep as far as possible out of your reach, so
after I landed from the canoe, fearing that you might jump on your
horses and follow me, I slipped around to your camp and stole the mare.
I brought her to this house and left her here, and Luke Redman has been
riding her ever since. He says she is the swiftest thing in the shape of
a horse he ever saw, and he is going to take her to Texas with him.”
“He shan’t do it,” said I. “I’ll follow him wherever he goes, and take
her away from him. She is my own private property, and I’ll not give her
up to any body. Do you know who burned our cotton gin?”
“Yes, Pete is the man. He did it to be revenged on your brother for
setting his dogs on him. By the way, don’t let him put his hands on you
if you can help it. He thinks you are Mark, and if he gets half a
chance, he’ll thrash you within an inch of your life. Among us all we
have kept the settlement in an uproar for the last few weeks, haven’t
we? Barney and I have been at the bottom of almost every thing that has
happened, and I am sorry enough for it now. If any one had told me two
months ago that I should ever come to this, I would not have believed
him. I have made an outlaw of myself. I can’t call any living person my
friend—not even my uncle, for he will never forgive me for what I have
done. If I could live over the last year of my life, I’ll bet you I
would have a very different record to show. My first care would be to
keep out of bad company. That is what has brought me where I am.”
For along time after this neither of us spoke. Tom looked down at the
floor, and I looked at him. He was thinking over his past life, and I
was wondering what the future had in store for him. I had at first been
utterly amazed when I found how low he had fallen, but I was not so now.
Knowing the life he had led for a long time past, it was unreasonable to
expect any thing else. One can not handle coals without getting his
hands black, and the longer the coals are handled the blacker the hands
become.
When Tom first began to associate with the Swamp Dragoons, one year ago,
he would have been greatly alarmed at the bare thought that he would
ever become so depraved as to commit a robbery. This state of things had
not been brought about in a moment—it was the work of months. One mean
act led to a second a little worse, another and another followed, and
now he was an outcast from home, and utterly friendless, for even Luke
Redman and the Swamp Dragoons had deserted him. He was learning by
experience that the way of the transgressor is always hard, and I did
not wonder that the future looked dark to him.
“You can’t imagine how heartily I always despised Duke Hampton,” said
Tom, suddenly. “I hated the very sight of him, and now I would give all
I ever hope to possess if I could be in his place. Every one thinks so
much of him. There is not a man, woman or child in the settlement who
does not put the most implicit faith in his word, or one who would
believe any thing mean of him.”
“And Duke deserves every particle of the confidence that is placed in
him,” said I.
“I know it. He never tries to build himself up by pulling others down,
and he is much too honorable and manly to say any thing behind your back
that he wouldn’t care to say to your face. If you should tell him a
secret, he wouldn’t lisp it to the best friend he has in the world. And
he is honest, too. Whenever you find a boy like that, you find one that
every body likes—except, perhaps, some fool like me whom no one on earth
cares for. Now then, I am going to get away from here. I’ll first make
amends for my misdeeds, as far as lies in my power, and then I’ll go off
where no one knows me and begin again. If there is any good in me, it
must come out. I’ll make a man of myself yet, and, in order to do it,
I’ll follow Duke Hampton’s example as nearly as I can.”
"‘A wrong confessed is half redressed,’ you know," said I. “Why don’t
you go home and tell your uncle just what you have told me? I would, if
I were in your place.”
“Don’t ask me to do that, Joe,” said Tom, decidedly. “I may come back
here one of these days, but I can’t think of staying now. Could I look
any body in the face after what I have done? Could you? But let’s talk
about something else. Our enemies must be asleep by this time, and if we
are going to get away from here, we must be about it.”
“Why, we are not going to make an attempt to escape in broad daylight,
are we?”
“Certainly we are; and the sooner we get to work, the better it will be
for us. Luke Redman intends to start for the river as soon as it grows
dark, and, what is more, he is going to take us with him. If we once
begin that journey, we’ll have no chance to get away, for he will tie us
hard and fast. It’s now or never. Come in here, Joe, and let us take a
look at things.”
In accordance with this request, I crawled through the opening into
Tom’s prison, and found that, in size and appearance, it was like my
own, with this simple difference: There was a window on one side of it,
and I was surprised to see that it was not secured with either bars or a
shutter.
“I don’t call this much of a jail,” said I. “What is there to hinder you
from climbing out of that window whenever you choose? I can’t imagine
why Luke Redman confined you here.”
“He didn’t intend to confine me,” replied Tom. “He only wanted to punish
me for talking back to him. When Barney came up with my dinner, he told
me that the reason his father had put me in this apartment was, that I
might keep a watch over you. If you began rummaging about, and
discovered the opening between the two rooms, I was to grab you and
alarm the house. You see, Luke Redman knew that you and I were not on
the best of terms, and thought I would do all in my power to prevent
your escape. He imagines, too, that I will stay just where he has a mind
to put me, and obey any orders he sees fit to issue; but I will show him
that he has reckoned without his host.”
As Tom ceased speaking, I thrust my head out of the window to take a
survey of the situation.
I found that the house stood in the center of a dense cane-brake, and
that it was built close against the side of a perpendicular bluff. There
was something peculiar in its construction that attracted my attention
at once. It was an ordinary log cabin, containing probably not more than
one room below, but the roof, instead of rising to a peak, sloped back
from the front of the building, the after end of the rafters resting
against the side of the cliff.
I noticed, too, that, although the rafters extended as high as the top
of our prison, they did not cover it; consequently, the rooms could not
have been in the house, but in the bluff. I wondered at this, and looked
toward Tom for an explanation.
“It was a freak of Luke Redman’s,” said he. “It is no uncommon thing for
him to be obliged to conceal himself for a month or two; and in order
that he might have a safe harboring-place, he built this house, which is
situated on an island in a part of the swamp that no one ever visits,
not even hunters. Not satisfied with this, he dug a hole in the hill,
and walled it up with planks to keep it from caving in. It is an
excellent place of concealment, for even if any of his enemies should
find the house, they might ransack it from top to bottom without
discovering these two rooms.”
“But they could see this window,” I suggested.
“Not from the ground,” replied Tom. “This grape-vine covers it
completely. We can see out, but no one can see in.”
I looked out again to complete the examination I had begun, and to
calculate our chances for escape. The first things I noticed were
several horses, my own and mother’s among the number, hitched to trees a
short distance from the house. They were all saddled, and the bridles
were slipped over their heads, showing that although Luke Redman and his
followers fancied themselves perfectly secure in their hidden fortress,
they had not neglected to make preparations for a hasty flight. A little
further on, Pete and his companions, who had brought the horses to the
island by some roundabout way, lay stretched out on their blankets
around a smoldering camp-fire, sleeping soundly after their hard ride of
the previous night. A pack of bloodhounds, probably eighteen or twenty
of them in all, lay curled up in the sun directly in front of the open
door of the cabin, from which there issued a chorus of terrific snores,
telling me that the robber and his young confederates were also
slumbering heavily.
I took in all these things at a glance, and my hopes fell to zero. If it
were dark, we might possibly succeed in making our escape; but how could
we lower ourselves from that window in broad daylight, walk past the
hounds, and go into the house among those sleeping desperadoes—for that
we would certainly be obliged to do if we expected to take the money
with us—and, lastly, secure possession of our horses and make off with
them, without arousing somebody?
“Tom,” said I, “your plan won’t work at all. It is positively foolhardy.
I believe I would rather stay here than run the risk of being torn in
pieces by those hounds.”
“I haven’t yet told you what my plan is,” replied Tom. “Those dogs will
not trouble you. They all know me, and I can go where I please about the
house, and they will not even look at me.”
“But they would follow your trail if they were put on it,” said I.
“Of course they would, and eat me up when they caught me. That’s their
nature. But I do not intend to give them the chance. I don’t ask you to
run any risks. We will lower ourselves out of the window by the
grape-vine, and you can stand at the foot of the bluff while I do the
work. I’ll go into the cabin and pass out the money to you, and also a
couple of guns; for I’ll tell you what’s a fact, Joe,” added Tom, with
emphasis, “if I once get that valise in my hands, I’ll never surrender
it. I’ll send it back to my uncle, where it belongs. When we have
secured the gold and weapons, we will start for our horses. We need not
stop to put the bridles on them, you know; we can ride them without.
Once fairly in the saddle, we can laugh at any thing in the shape of
horseflesh they can bring against us.”
“And at the hounds, too,” said I.
Tom’s enthusiasm must have been contagious, for almost before I knew it,
I found myself entering heartily into the spirit of his plans. They were
desperate, I knew, and the chances for carrying them out were small
indeed; but even that had a charm for me. If we failed, we could not be
in a much worse situation than we were now; and if we succeeded, Black
Bess and the eight thousand dollars were the prizes we would carry away
with us.
“If the dogs follow us, we can shoot them, you know,” I added.
“Certainly we can; and what’s more, we will. Will you stick to me and
never flinch?”
“You may depend upon it.”
Tom seemed satisfied with this assurance, for without saying another
word he crawled into the window, grasped the grape-vine, and quickly
disappeared from my view. While he was lowering himself to the ground, I
kept a good lookout, dividing my attention between the hounds and the
Indians at the camp-fire, and listening for any unusual sounds in the
cabin; but Tom accomplished the descent without disturbing any one, and
I crept out of the window and followed him.
In a few seconds I was standing by his side at the foot of the bluff,
and he was pulling off his boots, preparatory to entering the house.
“I stand in more fear of the Indians than any thing else,” he whispered,
with a hasty glance toward the camp-fire. “Their ears are sharper than a
hound’s, and, asleep or awake, they always keep them open. Have an eye
on them, and if you see one of them move, give one short, quick
whistle.”
I was really amazed at the calmness with which Tom spoke, and the
coolness and deliberation with which he acted. If I had been going into
that cabin among Luke Redman and his boys, I should have felt a good
deal of excitement and uneasiness; and, what is more, I should have
shown it; but my companion did not.
With the exception of a reckless glitter in his eye, and a resolute
scowl on his forehead, he was to all appearances the everyday Tom Mason.
What a pity it was, I thought, that he had not devoted himself to his
books, and spent less time in studying up plans for mischief. Such an
undaunted spirit, such a determination to overcome obstacles, if
exhibited in the line of study, or in any other laudable direction,
would have raised him to a high place among his fellows.
While I was moralizing, Tom nodded his head at me as if bidding me
good-by, and with a step that would not have awakened a cricket, moved
toward the house. One of the hounds must have scented him—he certainly
did not hear him—for he raised his head, gazed at Tom a moment with a
pair of sleepy-looking eyes, and was about to lie down again when he
discovered me.
His brute’s instinct must have told him that there was something wrong,
for he straightened up and uttered an angry growl, which aroused all the
other dogs at once. I thought it was all over with us, and that our
discovery was inevitable; but Tom was equal to the emergency.
“Keep still, you rascals!” he exclaimed, in a savage whisper. “Be off
with you! Clear out!”
The hounds had seen Tom so often that they had probably learned to look
upon him as one of their masters, for when he stooped suddenly as if to
pick up something with which to enforce his commands, they all scrambled
to their feet and slunk away into the cane-brake.