AN UNJUST ACCUSATION
They had not gone far when the rain burst upon them. They stuck to the
woods to avoid meeting Maw Hoover on her way home, and as the first big
drops pattered down among the trees Zara called a halt.
"It's going to rain mighty hard," she said. "We'd better wait here and
give it a chance to stop a little before we cross the clearing. We'll
get awful wet if we go on now."
Bessie, shivering with fright, and half minded, even now, to turn back
and take any punishment Maw Hoover chose to give her, looked up through
the trees. The lightning was flashing. She turned back--and the glare of
the burning woodshed helped her to make up her mind to stay with Zara.
As they looked the fire, against the black background of the storm, was
terrifying in the extreme.
"You'd never think that shed would make such a blaze, would you?" said
Zara, trembling. "I'd like to kill that Jake Hoover! How did he set it
on fire?"
"He must have been watching me all the time when I was trying to help
you to get out," said Bessie. "Then, when I was nearly done, he called
to me, and then he began throwing the burning wood at me. He knows I
hate that--he's done it before. I can always get out of the way. He
doesn't throw them very near me, really. But two or three times the
sparks have burned holes in my dress and Maw Hoover's been as mad as she
could be. So she thinks anyhow that I play around the fire, and she'd
never believe I didn't do it."
"The rain ought to put the fire out," said Zara presently, after they
had remained in silence for a few moments. "But I think it's beginning
to stop a little now."
"It is, and the fire's still burning, Zara. It seems to me it's
brighter than ever. And listen--when it isn't thundering. Don't you hear
a noise as if someone was shouting back there?"
Zara listened intently.
"Yes," she said. "And it sounds as if they were chopping with axes, too.
I hope the fire hasn't spread and reached the house, Bessie."
Bessie shivered.
"I hope so, too, Zara. But it's not my fault, anyhow. You and I know
that, even if no one believes us. It was Jake Hoover who did it, and
he'll be punished for it some time, I guess, whether his maw ever finds
it out or not."
They waited a few minutes longer for the rain to stop, and then, as it
grew lighter, they began to move on. They could see a heavy cloud of
smoke from the direction of the farmhouse, but no more flames, and now,
as the thunder grew more and more distant, they could hear shouting more
plainly. Evidently help had come--Paw Hoover, probably, seeing the fire,
and rushing up from the fields with his hired men and the neighbors to
put it out.
"Zara," said Bessie, suddenly, "suppose Jake was telling the truth?
Suppose they have taken your father away? You know they have said things
about him, and lots of people believe he is a bad man. I never did. But
suppose they really have taken him, what will you do?"
"I don't know. Stay there, I suppose. But, Bessie, it can't be true!"
"Maybe they wouldn't let you stay. When Mary Morton's mother died last
year and left her alone, they took her to the poorhouse. Maybe they'd
make you go there, too."
"They shan't!" cried Zara, her eyes flashing through her tears. "I--I'll
run away--I'll do anything--"
"I'm going to run away, myself," said Bessie, quietly. She had been
doing a lot of thinking. "No one could make me work harder than Maw
Hoover, and they'd pay me for doing it. I'm going to get as far away as
I can and get a real job."
Zara looked at Bessie, usually so quiet and meek, in surprise. There
was a determined note in Bessie's voice that she had never heard there
before.
"We'll stick together, you and I, Zara," said Bessie. "I'm afraid
something _has_ happened to your father. And if that's so, we'd better
not go right up to your house. We'd better wait until it's dark, and go
there quietly, so that we can listen, and see if there's anyone around
looking for you."
"But we won't get any supper!" said poor Zara. "And I'm hungry already!"
"We'll find berries and nuts, and we can easily find a spring where we
can drink all we want," said Bessie. "I guess we've got to look out for
ourselves now, Zara. There's no one else to do it for us."
And Bessie, the meek, the quiet, the subdued, from that moment took
command. Always before Zara had seemed the plucky one of the two. She
had often urged Bessie to rebel against Maw Hoover's harshness, and it
had been always Bessie who had hung back and refused to do anything
that might make trouble. But now, when the time for real action had
come, and Bessie recognized it, it was she who made the plans and
decided what was to be done.
Bessie knew the woods well, far better than Zara. Unerringly she led the
way to a spot she knew, where a farm had been allowed to drift back to
wild country, and pointed out some cherry trees.
"Some berries aren't good to eat, but I know those cherries," said
Bessie. "They used to be the best trees in the whole county years
ago--Paw Hoover's told me that. Some believe that they're no good now,
because no one has looked after the trees, but I know they're fine. I
ate some only the other day, and they're ripe and delicious. So we'll
have supper off these trees."
Zara, as active as a little cat, climbed the tree at once, and in a
moment she was throwing down the luscious fruit to Bessie, who gathered
it in her apron and called to Zara when she had picked enough of the
big, round cherries.
"Aren't they good, Zara? Eat as many as you want. They're not like a
real supper of meat and potatoes and things like that, you know, but
they'll keep us from feeling hungry."
"They certainly will, Bessie. I'd never have known about them. But then
I haven't lived long enough in the country to know it the way you do.
I've been in cities all my life."
"Yes, and if we get to the city, Zara, you'll know lots of things and be
able to tell me all about them. It must be wonderful."
"I suppose it is, Bessie, but I never thought of it that way. It must
have been because I was used to everything of that sort. When you see
things every day you get so that you don't think anything about them. I
used to laugh at people from the country when I'd see them staring up at
the high buildings, and jumping when an automobile horn tooted anywhere
near them."
"I suppose it must have seemed funny to you."
"Yes, but I was sorry when I came out here and saw that everyone was
laughing at me. There were all sorts of things I'd never seen or thought
about. I'm really only just beginning to get used to them now. Bessie,
it's getting pretty dark. Won't the moon be up soon?"
"Not for an hour or two yet, Zara. But it is dark now--we'd better begin
walking toward your house. We want to get there while it stays dark, and
before the old moon does get up. It'll be just as bright as daylight
then, and they'd be able to see us. I tell you what--we want to keep off
the road. We'll go through the woods till we get a chance to cut through
Farmer Weeks' cornfield. That'll bring us out behind your place, and we
can steal up quietly."
"You'd think we'd been doing something wrong, Bessie. It seems mighty
mean for us to have to sneak around that way."
"It's all right as long as we know we haven't done anything that isn't
right, Zara. That's the chief thing. If you do right, people will find
it out sooner or later, even if they think at first that you're bad.
Sometimes it takes a long time, but Paw Hoover says he's never known it
to fail that a bad man gets found out sooner or later."
"Then Jake Hoover'd better look out," said Zara, viciously. "He's lied
so much, and done so many mean things that you've got the blame for,
that he'll have an awful lot to make up for when he starts in. What
would Paw Hoover do to him if he knew he'd set the woodshed on fire,
Bessie?"
"I don't know. He'd be awful mad. He hasn't got so awful much money, you
know, and he needs it all for the farm. But Maw Hoover thinks Jake's all
right. She'd find some excuse for him. She always does when he does get
found out. That happens sometimes, you know. He can't always make them
think I've done it."
"I guess maybe that's why he's so mean, Bessie. Don't you think so?"
"Shouldn't wonder, Zara. I don't believe he stops to think half the
time. Here we are! We'll cut through the fence. Careful as we go
through--keep to the lanes between the stalks. We mustn't hurt the
corn, you know."
"I'd like to pull up every stalk! These people 'round here have been
mean and ugly to my father ever since we came here."
"That isn't right, though, Zara. It won't do you any good to hurt them
in return. If you do wrong, too, just because they have, you'll be just
as bad as they are."
"Oh, I know, but they've said all sorts of awful things, and if they've
put him in prison now--" She stopped, with a sob, and Bessie took her
hand.
"Cheer up, Zara. We don't know that anything of that sort has happened
yet, and, even if it has, it will come out all right. If your father
hasn't done anything wrong, they can't punish him. He'll get a fair
trial if he's been arrested, and they can't prove he's done anything
unless he has, you know."
"But if they lied about him around here, mightn't they lie the same
afterward--at the trial, Bessie? I'm frightened; really I am!"
"Hush, Zara! There's your house, and there's a light! That means there's
someone there. I hope it's your father, but it might be someone else,
and we mustn't let them hear us."
The two girls were out of the cornfield now, and, crossing a little
patch of swampy land, came to the little garden around Zara's house,
where her father had planted a few vegetables that helped to feed him
and Zara.
The house was little better than a cabin, a rough affair, tumbled down
in spots, with a sagging roof, and stained and weather-worn boards. It
had no second floor at all, and it was a poor, cheap apology for a
dwelling, all around. But, after all, it was Zara's home, the only home
she knew, and she was so tired and discouraged that all she wanted was
to get safely inside and throw herself down on her hard bed to sleep.
"Listen!" whispered Bessie, suddenly.
From the room into which the kitchen led there came a murmur of voices.
At first, though they strained their ears, they could make nothing out
of the confused sounds of talk. But gradually they recognized voices,
and Bessie turned pale as she heard Paw Hoover's, easy for her to know,
since his deep tones rumbled out in the quiet night. Zara recognized
them, too, and clutched Bessie's arm.
"My father isn't there!" she whispered. "If he was, I'd hear him."
"There's Farmer Weeks--and I believe that's Jake Hoover's voice, too,"
said Bessie, also in a whisper.
Then the door was opened, and the two girls huddled closer together,
shivering, afraid that they would be discovered. But it seemed that Paw
Hoover had only opened the door to get a little air, since the night was
very hot after the storm. About them the insects were making their
accustomed din, and a little breeze rustled among the treetops. But,
with the door open, they could hear what was being said plainly enough.
"I ain't goin' to wait here all night, Brother Weeks," said Paw Hoover.
"Got troubles enough of my own, what with the woodshed settin' fire to
the house!"
"Oh!" whispered Bessie. "Did you hear that, Zara? It was worse than we
thought."
"Huh!" said Weeks, a rough, hard man, who found it hard to get men to
work when he needed them for the harvest every summer, on account of his
reputation for treating his men badly.
"I allus told you you'd have trouble with that baggage afore you got rid
of her, Paw! Lucky that she didn't burn you out when you was all
asleep--I say," said Jake.
Bessie listened, every nerve and muscle in her body tense. They blamed
her for the fire, then! Her instinct when she had run away had been
right.
"I swan, I dunno what all possessed her," said Paw Hoover. "We give her
a good home--but Jake here seen her do it, though he was too late to
stop her--hey, Jake?"
"That's right, Pop," said Jake. "She didn't know I was aroun' anywhere.
Say, you ought to have her pinched for doin' it, too."
"I dunno--she's only a youngster," said Paw. "I guess they wouldn't hold
her responsible, somehow. But say, Brother Weeks, I hate to think of
that little Zara runnin' roun' the woods to-night. She ain't done
nothin' wrong, even if her paw's a crook. An' now they took him off,
who's a-goin' to look out for her?"
"I'll drive her over to the poor-farm when she turns up," said Weeks.
"Then they'll take her, an' apprentice her to someone as wants a girl to
work aroun' his place, like. Bind her over till she's twenty-one, and
let her work for her keep. I might take her myself--guess 'twouldn't
cost such a lot to feed her. She's thin--reckon she ain't ever had much
to eat here."
Bessie, feeling the tremor in Zara's rigid body at this confirmation of
her worst fears, put her hand quickly over her friend's mouth, just in
time to check a cry that was rising to her lips.
"Come, Zara," she whispered, gently. "We'll have to look out for
ourselves. Come, we'll get away. We mustn't stay around here."
And, holding Zara's arm, she led her away. For a long time, until Bessie
judged that it was safe to return to the road, they kept on through the
woods. And, when they came out on the road, the moon was up.
"The world's a beautiful place after all, Zara," said Bessie. "It can't
be so bad when everything's so lovely. Come on, we'll walk a little
further, and then we'll come to a place I know where we can sleep
to-night--a place where wood cutters used to stay. No one's there now,
and we'll be dry and safe."
"I'm not afraid if I'm with you, Bessie," said Zara.