CHASING ANDY MOSEY
Jack's thoughts were busy as he hurried toward the shore, where he
expected to meet farmer Farrell and the two prisoners.
"Pooler acts mighty queer to say the least," he told himself. "I can't
make it out at all, excepting that I think we are on the edge of some
discovery of importance."
It was dark under the trees, and he had to pick his way along as best he
could. Once he lost the path and came close to running into a small
brook flowing halfway across the island.
Never for a moment did he imagine that either of the two prisoners could
get away from the farmer and his hired man.
But in this he was mistaken.
Corrigan was too tightly bound to help himself, but not so Andy Mosey.
The Irishman had been so near complete intoxication that it had not been
deemed necessary to make his bonds extra strong.
But finding himself a close prisoner had sobered Mosey a good deal and
long before the shore was gained he made up his mind to escape if he
possibly could.
With a cunning that he had heretofore failed to exhibit he began to act
as if he was more intoxicated than usual.
"Look out, or you'll go down!" was the warning of the farmer. "And if
you do go down you can pick yourself up, for I shan't help you,
excepting with a kick."
"Oi know me way," was Mosey's unsteady reply. "Oi'm comin'. Don't ye
worry about me."
Just as the vicinity of the shore was gained Mosey slipped the bonds
from first one hand and then the other, taking care that not even his
brother-in-law should see him, for he was now thinking of saving himself
only.
"Come, don't drag," came from farmer Farrell. "I am not going to stay
here all night."
"Sure, an' Oi sthepped in a hole, the ould b'y take the luck!"
spluttered Mosey. "Oi'm comin' jhust as fast as Oi can!"
The farmer moved on and so did Corrigan and the hired man. Farmer
Farrell had cautioned the hired man to keep an eye on Mosey, but the job
was not at all to the fellow's taste and he was thinking of nothing but
to get back home, where he had left a comfortable bed in the barn.
At last Mosey thought he saw his opportunity and dropped further behind
than ever, acting as if he had lamed his foot. Then of a sudden he
darted behind some trees and crashed away through some bushes.
"Hi! stop!" roared farmer Farrell. "Stop, or I'll fire on you!"
To this Andy Mosey made no reply, but increased his speed, so that he
was soon quite a distance from the island shore. The farmer gazed
around in dismay, first at Corrigan and then at his hired man.
"Go after him, you dunce!" he cried to the hired man. "I must watch
this rascal. Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on the other fellow?"
"And I did, sir," was the weak answer. "He ran off before I knew it."
"Well, after him, I say! Don't stand there like a block of wood!"
"He--he may take it into his head to shoot me," faltered the hired man.
"He hasn't any pistol, we disarmed him," returned the farmer,
frantically. "Are you going after him or not?"
"I'll go, sir," said the hired man, and hurried off as far as the bushes
into which Mosey had first disappeared. But by that time the Irishman
was a good hundred yards away, and running as rapidly as his limbs would
carry him.
In the bushes the hired man came to a halt. He pretended to look around,
but he did not venture a step further.
"Do you see him?" called out farmer Farrell.
"No, sir."
"Why don't you follow him up?"
"I don't know where he went to."
"He went up the shore. Quick, follow him, or I'll discharge you
to-morrow morning."
Thus threatened the hired man started up the shore and then moved in the
direction of the cottage, having a notion that Mosey might move in that
direction, although he might have known better. A minute later he heard
footsteps and came to a halt with his heart in his throat.
"If he attacks me I'm a goner!" he groaned, and then saw that it was
Jack and not Mosey who was approaching.
"O, sir, he's got away!" he cried, with a feeling of relief when he
recognized the young machinist.
"Got away? Who?" questioned Jack, quickly.
"The rascal named Mosey."
"When?"
"Just a few minutes ago, sir--when we were almost to the boat."
"What of Corrigan?"
"Mr. Farrell is watching him."
"But Mosey was bound?"
"I know it, sir. But he got away anyhow, and ran like a deer up the
shore."
"Then he can't be far off," exclaimed Jack. "Were you after him?"
"Yes, sir."
"But if he went up the shore----"
"I was a-thinking he might turn toward the cottage."
"No, he didn't come this way."
"Then he must have gone that way."
"We must catch him," cried Jack, earnestly. "He has done too many wrong
deeds to be allowed to escape in this fashion. Come on, follow me."
The young inventor pushed forward and the hired man came after him, but
at what he considered a safe distance in the rear. Soon Jack was
running up the shore at a point where there was a wide open field, which
Pooler had once used for growing wheat.
As the young machinist came out on the edge of the field he saw a dark
form just leaving the open space at the opposite side. The form was
that of Mosey.
"Stop, Mosey!" he cried, loudly. "Stop, it will be best for you!"
The cry from Jack alarmed Andy Mosey more than ever, and he tried to run
with increased speed. But his first burst had been almost too much for
him, and he was panting loudly for breath.
"Sure an' Oi can't make it afther all," he panted. "Bad cess to Jack
Willington fer followin' me! Oi wisht Oi had me pistol. Oi'd soon be
afther sthopin' his game!"
But Mosey had nothing more than a sharp stone, which he had picked up in
the field, and at present he saw no way of using this, for Jack was too
far off.
Feeling that he could not run much further, he looked around for some
place where he might hide. A gnarled tree with low-spreading branches
was not far away and to this he went and began to climb the trunk with
all possible speed. Soon he was some distance from the ground and then
he stretched himself on a limb and remained quiet.
Crossing the field at his best speed, Jack darted in among the trees and
peered around sharply. Of course he could see nothing of Mosey, and he
moved on for a distance of a hundred feet or more. Then he came back
and stood directly under the tree in which the Irishman was hiding. In
the meantime the farmer's hired man came to a halt in the middle of the
field, ready to run at the first sign of danger.
"Mosey!" called Jack. "Mosey, you might as well give yourself up. You
are bound to be caught sooner or later."
He listened, but no reply came back. Then Jack walked around the tree.
Now had the Irishman kept quiet he might have escaped the young
inventor, but his success at getting away made him extra bold, and not
knowing that the farm hand was near he resolved to do Jack a great
injury. Bringing the sharp stone from his pocket, he took careful aim
at Jack's head and let drive with all the force he could command.
Had the stone landed as intended the young inventor might have been
killed, but as it was, on the instant that Mosey threw the missile Jack
took a step forward, thinking to go on another hunt for the Irishman.
Consequently the stone merely grazed his shoulder, doing hardly any
damage.
Much startled, Jack leaped forward and then turned around. He did not
know exactly where Mosey was, but resolved to put on a bold front.
"So that is where you are!" he cried. "Do you want me to put a bullet
through you?"
"Bad luck to yez!" growled Mosey, much crestfallen. "No, don't shoot
me, Jack, me b'y. It--it was all a mistake. I thought ye was the
farmer, upon me wurrud."
"Do you surrender?"
"Yis, yis!" Andy Mosey had a wholesome fear of being shot, and he could
not see whether Jack had a pistol or not.
"How many more rocks have you up there?"
"Nary a wan, Jack, Oi only had the wan, upon me honor."
"Then jump down here, and hold your hands over your head. If you try to
play me another trick I'll shoot you sure."
With a groan Andy Mosey descended to the ground, and then held his hands
over his head.
"Now turn around and march the way you came. And don't you dare to look
back," continued the young inventor.
"But, Jack, me dear b'y----"
"I am not your dear boy, Mosey, and I won't stop to parley with you."
"But, Jack, I didn't----"
"Stop it I say, and march. Or do you want to be in the fix Pooler is
in?"
"No, no! I'll march, Jack; don't shoot!" And without further ado Andy
Mosey set off for the shore, with Jack behind him, and the farm hand
bringing up at a safe distance to one side. Presently the farm hand ran
ahead, to tell farmer Farrell of how matters now stood.
As soon as the hired man had disappeared Andy Mosey tried to argue
again.
"It's Corrigan's doin's----" he began.
"Mosey, we won't talk now," said Jack at last, for he saw that the
Irishman's head was not as clear as it might have been. "If you want to
argue you can do it when we are in the boat."
"But you'll be afther listenin' to me Jack, me b'y?" pleaded Mosey.
"Perhaps."
"I want to be friends wid ye."
"You have a strange way of showing it."
"It's the liquor, Jack, me b'y--bad cess to it."
"Why don't you leave liquor alone then, Andy?"
"Sure, an' it would be a good job done if I had niver touched a drap."
"You've spoken the truth there."
"If Oi iver git out av this hole Oi'll soign the pledge, so Oi will."
"You might do worse."
"Say the wurrud, Jack, me b'y, an' Oi'll soign it to-morrow," went on
Mosey, thinking he was winning the young inventor over.
"I'll say nothing more at present, Andy, excepting that I want you to
get along to the shore, without further delay."
"But Jack, if Oi----"
"Not another word. March!"
And then the march to the boat was resumed.