REUBEN HAS THRILLING EXPERIENCES.
REUBEN was well pleased with his change of quarters. He liked old
Samuel, and had no doubt that he should get on with him. The gatehouse,
though small, was clean and bright, for Samuel's married daughter
either came herself or sent some one each day to attend to the house
and cook the old man's dinner. Reuben liked his room, which looked into
the yard, and thought it a great improvement on his attic in the noisy,
crowded house, where the lodgers were continually quarrelling. He wrote
his mother a cheerful letter, telling her how much better off he was,
for he knew that the news would gladden her heart.
Reuben began to feel glad himself once more. Things were altogether
brighter in his life. Mr. Akenside spoke kindly to him whenever they
met, and even Savage, though many a sign showed that in his heart he
liked Reuben no better than before, treated him with less severity.
Reuben hoped that his worst troubles were over.
Reuben's only regret in leaving his lodging was that he would in
future see less of Kate, who, in her rough way, still showed herself
friendly to him, and whom he was anxious to befriend in any way that
he could. He believed that the girl had better thoughts and feelings
than she would suffer to appear. She was regarded at the factory as an
incorrigibly bad girl, always in mischief, and it was wondered that she
did not get her dismissal, for she was often insolent to Mr. Savage,
and made no secret of the fact that she hated him and loved to give him
trouble.
But, away from the factory, Reuben sometimes saw Kate under another
aspect. She liked to talk to him, and would often ask questions about
his home life, in which she seemed much interested. Now and then Reuben
would read her bits out of his mother's letters,—hurriedly written
letters they were, and very queerly spelt, but full of a mother's love,
a mother's tender anxiety about her son's welfare. Kate evidently liked
to hear these. But she would sigh when Reuben had finished, and a look
of sadness would flit across the face which was usually aglow with
mischievous mirth.
Reuben had not been long at the gatehouse, when one day—it was a day he
never forgot—as he was passing along a passage between the workshops,
he heard proceeding from one of them, shrill, awful cries for help.
He recognised the voices as those of women, and flew to the rescue.
Dashing into the midst of a group of terrified girls, he perceived that
one of them had become entangled by her clothes in the machinery, and
was being drawn to certain death.
In a moment Reuben had his arms around the girl, and tried desperately
to release her. But unaided, he was powerless to extricate her, and
he too might have been drawn into the power of the swift, relentless
machine, if the cries of the girls had not brought other men to the
spot, who by main force dragged the poor creature out. It was a
horrible sight. Her clothes were in shreds, and her flesh was terribly
torn and mangled. It seemed impossible that she could survive such
injuries; but without delay a stretcher was procured, and she was borne
away to the hospital.
Not till this was done did Reuben learn that the sufferer was Kate
Barnaby, the wild, rough girl in whom he had become interested. The
accident was a sad consequence of her own lawlessness. It was against
the rules for women to touch these machines, or even to enter the room
where they were, the danger of their clothing becoming entangled in the
machinery being so great. But Kate, in one of her reckless moods, had
been tempted to disobey if she dared, and had defiantly ventured to
approach and even attempt to work one of the machines in the absence of
the workmen, with a result which the giddy girls who had led her into
this mischief would never forget.
Reuben was shocked and unnerved by the terrible sight. It was all
he could do to keep from sobbing aloud as the women did. No one who
had witnessed the accident thought it possible that Kate could live.
A sense of horror and gloom oppressed all the workers in the large
factory, as they discussed with painful eagerness the event. Nothing
else was talked about, and all were glad when the hour of closing came.
As they passed out of the gates, quite a number of the "hands" turned
in the direction of the hospital, that they might inquire there as to
Kate's condition. Reuben was of the number. It was a great relief to
him to learn that the surgeons did not consider the case hopeless. But
he returned to the gatehouse with his heart heavy with anxiety, and
that night he tossed to and fro on his bed and could not sleep, whilst
the horrible scene which had shocked him kept renewing itself before
his mental vision.
At last, finding the attempt to sleep vain, he rose and went to his
window. It was about five in the morning, but still dark, and no
wind was stirring. As Reuben pressed his hot forehead against the
window-pane, he perceived to his astonishment a light moving unsteadily
at the farther end of the yard. Now here, now there it was, then he
lost sight of it, then a few minutes later it appeared again.
Reuben began to tremble with a vague terror. What could it mean? Some
one surely was moving about the yard who had no business to be there.
How was it that the faithful watchdog, which ranged the premises at
night, had given no alarm? Watching closely, Reuben began to fancy that
he could see forms moving stealthily in the darkness. All his senses
now on the alert, he became aware of dull, muffled sounds from time to
time. Something apparently was wrong, and he must discover what.
Hurriedly drawing on his clothes, he prepared to go forth, but at the
door of his room he paused and hesitated, in doubt whether it would be
well to rouse old Samuel. He went back to the window. The light was no
longer visible, but still he fancied he could hear sounds as of some
one stirring in the yard. Yet it all seemed so dream-like that Reuben
was by no means sure that he was not the victim of some delusion, the
result of his over-strained nerves and sleepless night. He resolved,
though not without tremor, that he would slip into the yard, and
ascertain whether there was any one there before he awoke old Samuel.
The sound of the old man's heavy breathing was reassuring to Reuben as
he crept downstairs. He began to hope that he had disquieted himself
about nothing. But as, having quietly opened the house door, he stepped
into the yard, he saw the light again, Reuben's heart beat fast as he
crept along towards the spot at which it had appeared.
Presently the sound of subdued voices reached his ear. There were men
moving at the end of the yard, but he was not yet near enough to hear
what they were saying.
It was lighter out of doors than it had seemed from the window. As he
advanced, Reuben saw to his astonishment that a cart and horse stood
before one of the buildings. It was that in which the metal goods, when
finished, were temporarily stored. Reuben could not imagine how the
cart could have been driven into the yard after the gates were closed.
He moved on, feeling like one in a dream.
As he came up to it, he saw that the horse's hoofs were muffled to
prevent its tread being heard. The next moment he perceived that the
storehouse door stood open, and that some one within was handing out
goods to a man who stood at the back of the cart, and was hurriedly
packing them into it.
Reuben shrank back against the wall, trembling in every limb. Here were
thieves indeed, and they were doing their work in a wholesale way.
But the discovery inspired him, excited and overwrought as he was,
with such terror, that he cowered against the wall, close to the cart,
unable to move forward or back.
The next minute the man at the cart said, in a low, cautious tone to
his confederate within, "I say, Nat, it's getting late. We'd best be
off before it grows any lighter."
The man within appeared to assent. A few more things were handed out,
then a few moments later Reuben heard the sound of the storehouse door
being closed and locked.
The next minute a man carrying a lantern passed in front of Reuben. The
lad held his breath, and vainly tried to squeeze himself closer to the
wall. Then to his amazement he saw that the man was none other than Nat
Savage. For a moment Reuben had the idea that all was right, and he was
there on lawful business. But the darkness, the stealth, the haste told
another story.
It was easy now to explain how they gained admittance to the works.
Savage had keys that would open every gate or door on the premises.
He was trusted with everything. And this was how he rewarded the
confidence placed in him!
Following at Savage's heels was the watchdog belonging to the premises.
Reuben knew that Savage had trained this dog to do anything he told
him. He would not bark if his master bid him be still. But the dog knew
Reuben well also, and now, to the lad's dismay, he bounded towards him,
giving a low whine of delight.
[Illustration: "WE ARE NOT BURGLARS!"]
Instantly, Savage turned and flashed the light of his lantern upon
Reuben.
"You here!" exclaimed the man, his face white with fear, his form
trembling visibly. Then, in ungovernable passion, he broke out, "But
I'll teach you to spy upon me; I'll give you a lesson."
And he raised his hand to strike Reuben. Ere he could do so, his arm
was seized by his companion, whom Reuben now recognised as a little old
man, with a mean, cunning face, whom he had occasionally seen in the
yard talking with Savage.
"Gently, gently," whispered this man; "don't make a noise. You forget
the old man. Tell him it's all right."
Savage took the hint, recovered himself and said more quietly, though
his manner still betrayed agitation, "You need not be alarmed, Reuben
Roy. We are not burglars. It is all perfectly right, I assure you. Now
you have seen who is here, you can go back to your bed. Only remember,
please, that I do not wish this talked about. Give me your word that
you will say nothing of this to any one."
But Reuben was silent. He was by no means satisfied that all was
perfectly right, and, though he dreaded Savage's violence, he would not
promise to keep silence, when he believed it was his duty to speak of
what he had seen.
"Why don't you speak?" asked Savage angrily. "Don't you hear me?
Promise that you will name this to no one. Come, I am not to be trifled
with, I can tell you. Promise to hold your tongue, or it will be the
worse for you."
"I will not promise," said Reuben bravely, though his voice shook as he
spoke. "I am bound to tell Samuel what I have seen. If it is all right,
as you say, you need not surely mind his knowing."
"You are to tell no one. I warn you, Reuben Roy, that I am in deadly
earnest. Breathe a word of this to any one, and it will be the worse
for you. Now, will you promise?"
Reuben shook his head. And, remembering how he had withstood him on a
previous occasion, Savage became possessed by an impotent rage that
drove him almost beside himself. He rushed at Reuben with clenched
fist, but the young fellow, springing on one side, evaded the blow.
At the same instant, however, the other man stepped forward, and by a
cunning movement of his foot, tripped Reuben up, causing him to fall
heavily to the ground.
As he fell, his head struck against an angle of the wall with such
force that the blow stunned him. He lay there motionless till the full
light of day shone upon his white, upturned face.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]