A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST
The miser's wild and unexpected revelation was certainly a most
astonishing thing to Mont Gray. As we know, he had surmised that this
strange man knew much of the history of the past, and he had already
decided to put several questions to Max Pooler on the first available
opportunity. But such a statement as he had just heard took away his
breath, and he stared at the prostrate man, scarcely able to move.
Deb, too, was astonished, but, woman-like, paid more attention to the
effect upon the young man than to what was said.
"Oh, Mont, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed, catching him by the arm.
"What makes you so pale? What is that man talking about?"
"I can't say, exactly," he replied, in an oddly unnatural voice. "My
father's death is a mystery to me. This man can unravel it, I suppose,
if he will," he added, as he knelt down, and turned Pooler once more on
his back.
The face of the wounded man had lost all color, and his heart seemed to
have stopped beating.
"If we only had some water it might help him," said Mont. "Although I
can't make anything out of a case like this."
"There's a brook just outside," returned Deb. "Wonder if there is a cup
anywhere around?"
In one corner he found a can, such as is used in preserving vegetables.
It was empty, and, taking it outside, she washed it thoroughly, and
returned with it full of pure, cold water, with which they bathed the
wounded man's head.
"He is suffering more from the excitement than from the pistol shot,"
observed the young man, as he worked away.
"I suppose being surprised by those two men was the start of it,"
replied Deb.
The miser was rapidly regaining his color, and his forehead felt like
fire. Soaking the handkerchief in the can, the girl bound it over his
temples.
Presently Pooler grew restless. He did not open his eyes, but moved his
body from side to side uneasily.
"He is coming to," whispered Mont. "Perhaps you had better go outside.
He may become violent."
"Never mind if he does," replied the girl; "I think I ought to stay, and
I won't care so long as you are here," and then, as Mont gave her a
grateful smile, Deb suddenly blushed and turned away her face.
"My gold and silver! It's mine, all mine!" muttered Pooler to himself.
"Monterey Gray is dead, and it belongs to me, all, all, all!" He
gnashed his teeth. "Oh, why did I go on that accursed yacht--evil is
always sure to follow! My gold and silver! All mine!"
A long silence followed, broken only by the irregular breathing of the
exhausted man.
"He has passed into a stupor," said Mont. "How long it will last I
cannot tell."
Presently Meg returned, carrying a number of bottles and bandages.
"Brought all I could carry," she declared. "Hope there's what you want
there."
Deb looked over the list and fixed up a dose which Mont poured down the
wounded man's throat.
Meanwhile, Meg picked up the scattered coins and tied them up in the
various bags that lay upon the table. How much there was they could
form no estimate, but it would certainly run up to thousands of dollars.
Evidently, Max Pooler had not dreamed of being surprised while counting
over his hoarded wealth, and the demands of Mosey and Corrigan, who
probably had some hold upon the miser, had led to an immediate quarrel.
While Meg was still at work, Jack returned, somewhat flushed from
hurrying.
"We don't know what to do with those two men," he said, after taking a
look at Pooler, who still rested quietly. "That hired man is afraid of
his own shadow, and Mr. Farrell hardly thinks he can manage them alone."
"Suppose you go with them," suggested Mont. "I can get along here alone,
and when you come back you can bring a doctor."
The young man's idea was thought by all to be a good one.
"But what will you do?" asked the young machinist of his sister.
"I'll do whatever you say, Jack," was Deb's reply.
"I'll stay here, if it's best," put in Meg. "I ain't afraid of anything
on this island."
"Perhaps you had better remain, too, Deb," said Jack. "I'll be back
with the doctor just as soon as I can."
"Wonder if we can't get this man up to the cottage," put in Mont. "He'd
be much better off in his own bed than here."
"We can, but carrying may make his wound worse," returned the young
machinist.
"It isn't that which worries him the most. It's his money and his
conscience," declared the young man, as he eyed Pooler meditatively.
"Then come; we'll lock hands and make an armchair for him to ride in."
Not without considerable difficulty they raised the man between them.
He now uttered no sound, and his weight was that of a dead body.
Meg led the way, carrying the lantern which she had taken from the cave.
Deb brought up the rear, her overskirt weighted down by as many of the
bags of the coin as she could carry, which Jack advised should be taken
along.
It was a long and tedious walk, for the greater part in the dark. They
rested twice, and both Mont and Jack gave a sigh of relief when they
deposited their burden upon a temporary bed in the front room of the
cottage.
"There, now you'll have to get along the best you can," said the young
machinist. "I suppose Mr. Farrell is wondering what keeps me so long.
Good night all;" and off he went toward the shore.
Meg brought some extra blankets from the other beds, and Mont prepared a
resting place for the unconscious man, placing the wounded shoulder in
as comfortable a position as possible.
"You had both better try to secure a little sleep," he said to the two
girls. "I can get along alone. If I need help I will call you."
After some discussion both Deb and Meg retired to what had for many
years been the latter's resting place, a small chamber at one end of the
garret.
Mont kept a constant eye upon his strange patient, frequently
rearranging the pillow, and watching that the bandage did not slip from
the shoulder.
There was an anxious look in the young man's face as he moved about, and
it soon vented itself in a brief soliloquy.
"This man knows all about the past," he whispered to himself. "He knew
my father, and he knows uncle Felix, I must help him to recover and,
there----" he rubbed his hand over his forehead; "If I only knew the
truth!"
He noticed that the brow of the miser gradually grew hotter, and that
the man's restlessness increased every moment.
"I don't know of anything else I can do," said Mont to himself. "I hope
Jack will hurry back with the doctor."
It was not long before Max Pooler was tossing from side to side.
"My gold and silver," murmured the feverish miser. "My shining gold and
silver! You shan't take it away! It's mine. Ask Felix Gray if it
ain't."
Mont started.
"What did you say?" he asked bending low over the tossing form.
"Water, water!" moaned Pooler, paying no attention to the question.
"Give me a drink of water, I'm burning up!"
Mont took up the pitcher which Meg had filled at the spring, and held it
to his lips. The miser took one sip, and then pushed it from him.
"Ha! ha! you can't fool me!" he screamed. "You're in the water--the same
old face! Haven't I looked at it many a time from the deck of the Kitty?
But you're dead, yes dead, and you can't tell anything!" and he fell
back on the bed with a groan.
"You must keep quiet," said Mont, who, to tell the truth, was highly
excited himself; "you are wounded in the shoulder, and will fare badly
if you don't take things easy."
But Pooler either could or would not pay any attention to Mont's advice.
He kept muttering to himself--at one moment apparently in his right mind
and at the next talking at random.
"Who did you say you were?" he asked during a lucid interval.
The young man did not reply. He knew that under the circumstances to do
so would only excite the man.
"Oh, I know--Monterey Gray. But you're not. Monterey Gray is dead,"
and the miser chuckled.
"You are thinking of my father," said Mont finally.
Max Pooler glared at him.
"'Tain't so!" he cried, and then, after a pause: "Who was that other
young man?"
"My friend, Jack Willington."
"Willington!" gasped Pooler, rising up. "Both of them; and they have
come to take away the money! But Monterey Gray and Martin Willington
are both dead, and the gold and silver is mine! Didn't I tell you so
before? It is all mine!"