"Well, what'm I to git out of it if we're not pards?" Blott asked.
"We are partners in this, and you are to get one-third if you do as I
tell you," Burke answered.
"What'm I to do?"
"Nothing of any account. You are to stand beside the road and fire when
I do, and if one shot doesn't kill him, you are to keep on firing till
he is dead. Is that hard, Blott? It is just play."
"You won't kill him, though, if he throws up his hands an' we git what
we want?"
"Yes; he is to die whether he throws up his hands or not. That is the
understanding," Burke answered.
"Whose understandin'?"
"My understanding with my partner, and in this he is to have his way;
and why not?" Burke answered, in his soft voice.
"Great God! what does he want him killed for?"
"I don't know; but what does it matter? That is always the best way,
for it leaves one enemy the less."
"Yes, and I hang for't, like these dead men, while you go free, you
devil! No, I'll have nothin' to do with the murder. I didn't come here
to kill a man 'cause somebody I don't know wants it," Blott answered, in
a determined way.
"Don't talk foolishly, Blott; don't!" Burke replied, quietly, but with
such dreadful menace in his voice that I shuddered, hearing it.
"No, not a finger'll I raise agin the man, whoever he is," Blott
answered, doggedly. "Not a finger!"
"You will think better of it, Blott; but come into the cabin, though it
is a poor thing since the boys held it against the Regulators," Burke
answered, as if to turn the subject to pleasanter things.
"Were you one of 'em?" Blott asked, as if loath to go on.
"No; or how should I be here? I was late, you see, and when I stuck my
head out of the bushes there the cabin was afire, and our men holding up
their hands and crying for mercy."
"What happened then?" Blott asked.
"What would be likely to happen? The posse tied them hand and foot and
stood them in a row, and before you could count a hundred, had picked a
judge and jury. Others went and cut uprights and a crossbeam for the
gallows, and when the trial was over the thing was ready as you see it
now. After they had convicted the prisoners, every one had his say, but
not one peached. Then they strung them up; and when all were dead, they
dug holes, one under each man, and so dropped the five into their graves
and covered them up, and there they rot. But come, this is idle talk,
and we ought to be at work"; and partly following and partly pushing
Blott, the two disappeared within the cabin.
When they were gone I remained where I was, not knowing whether to fly
or lie still; but while thus deliberating, a ray of light fell across my
face, and hearing voices, I partly arose and peered through a crevice
into the building. A lantern stood on the rude bench that ran across
the room, and beside it Burke was busy with something he held in his
hand, while Blott sat a little way off, seemingly taking no interest in
what the other was doing. After a while, Burke bringing the object he
held near the lantern, I saw it was a pistol, its black barrel
glistening in the uncertain light like the body of a serpent.
"There, that will do, that will do. A beauty, too! and now for the
others," he exclaimed, as he fell to work on a second weapon, cleaning
and polishing it as he had the first. Afterward taking from his belt a
third and a fourth, he cleaned and loaded them as he had the others.
"There! I think I am ready for the Appletop gentleman; but how are your
pistols, Blott? In good shape, I hope?" he purred, looking up as if for
the first time.
"I don't know, an' I don't care, for I'll have nothin' to do with the
murder."
"Don't speak so roughly, Blott; don't, you shock me. But what are you
going to do, then?" Burke continued, keeping his eyes on his companion,
though the latter did not look in his direction any more than as if he
had not been present.
"What'm I goin' to do? I'm goin' to leave this cursed place," Blott
answered, standing up.
"Is that fair, Blott? Is it fair, after learning my plans? You would be
a witness against me, without being guilty, you know," Burke answered,
softly, taking a pistol in each hand. At this I thought to cry out, so
dreadful did Burke's movement appear and so unconscious was Blott of any
danger; but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth and my throat was
like the dust of the road. Paying no attention to the movements or
voice of the other, Blott answered, angrily, and as if secure in his own
house:
"You can go to the devil, Burke, if you like; I'll not betray you, but
you'll never lack for witnesses to hang you."
"You don't mean that, Blott! You don't, surely! Think again. There
will be no danger, and a lot of money to share. A lot, I say."
"You can't tempt me. I don't care about the risk, but I sha'n't be a
party to no cold-blooded murder. I didn't come here to engage in any
such fool business"; and he turned on Burke as if defying him.
"If you are not going to do as I wish, I will not help you longer, nor
give you liquor. I can't afford to keep a dead one in food and whisky,"
Burke went on in a whining voice, as if loath to act.
"Shut off the whisky, and be damned to you, if you wish! I may want a
drink bad enough to-morrer to kill a man, an' I shouldn't wonder if I
did; but I'm not feelin' that way to-night," Blott answered, sullenly.
"Then take that, you booby, you driveling idiot!" and Burke leveled a
pistol full at Blott's breast and fired. Too late the latter sought to
spring upon his enemy, but with the movement he threw up his hands, and
without cry or sound of any kind sank down upon the floor.
Burke, who had sprung to his feet, stopped short when he saw Blott waver
and fall. And thus he stood watching him, with his face half-revealed.
When some time had passed and Blott did not stir, Burke went to him, and
lifting his hand, let it fall to the floor.
"Dead, and so quick, too, the ass! But he would have it, and I could do
nothing less. Did he suppose I would let him go knowing what he did!
Well, well, you need not fear spooks longer, Blott, and I hope they will
find you better company than I have"; saying which, he stood
contemplating the fallen man as if reflecting on his fate. At last,
gathering himself together, he went on: "Lie there, you donkey! till I
come back, when a hole will put you out of sight. Better work alone
than with such a baby. Yes, yes, much better!" And his voice, which a
moment before had been like the cry of a wild beast, was now soft and
purring, as if with the occasion all feeling of anger had vanished from
his heart forever.
NOTE.--At the time of which Gilbert Holmes speaks, the inhabitants of
the Mississippi Valley were greatly harassed by outlaws; but these,
differing from the thugs of the East, were often men of education and
considerable culture, like Burke. Many of them were the sons of
merchants and clergymen and people of character, who thought to commence
in the West a better life, or continue their downward course with
greater license. These social outcasts were, in the end, driven from
the country, or exterminated by bands of Regulators organized by the
communities for that purpose. For many years, however, men were not safe
abroad, unless in companies or heavily armed, if thought to have money.
Horse-stealing was a common crime, and more surely punished with death
than murder, as is the case in all new countries. Notwithstanding this,
and contrary to what is generally thought, the community was, as a
whole, made up of the highest type of men and women; men and women who
spoke pure English and in the main were refined and well educated.
Coming to the new country, they gave up every comfort to better their
fortunes, enduring hardship with cheerfulness, in the prospect held out
of wealth and independence for their children, if not for
themselves.--THE AUTHOR.
*CHAPTER XXX*
*THE RIDE FOR LIFE*
When Burke had assured himself a second time that Blott was dead, he
reloaded his pistol and hurriedly left the cabin. Waiting till he was
gone, I crept to the corner of the building and watched him as he
crossed the open space and disappeared in the shadows of the trees.
Overcome, I had now but one desire, and that to leave this place of
death; and turning, I fled across the moonlit space, past the graves and
dangling ropes, to the woods beyond. Directing my course in the
direction I had been following, I made a wide detour that I might strike
the highway at the top of the hill instead of the bottom, as I had
thought. Reaching the road at last, worn out with fatigue, I threw
myself down, the better to regain my lost strength. As I lay
outstretched, I listened to catch, if I might, the report of Burke's
pistol. In vain, however; but perhaps the distance was too great; or
what if the traveler had not yet reached the valley! At the thought I
sprang to my feet and ran on, hoping I might yet be in time to warn him
of his danger. Stopping at intervals to listen, no sound reached my
ears save the moan of the wind and the far-off cry of some night-bird in
quest of its prey. At last, discouraged and worn out, I threw myself
down beside the road, careless of all else if I might only rest and
sleep.
As my face touched the ground, and ere I could close my eyes, there
struck upon my ear the far-off rhythmical beat of a horse's hoofs at
full gallop. Angry at being disturbed, I arose, but standing upright I
could hear it no more. Relieved, I lay down again; but no sooner had my
head touched the cool earth than the sound came to me once more, and now
nearer and deeper than before. There could be no mistake this time, and
rising to my feet, the steady pulse-beat of the galloping horse rose
full and clear on the still air, saying as in words, "Coming, coming,
coming!" Or some obstruction intervening, it would die away, calling
back, as in sad adieu, "Going, going, going!" Then the obstruction
cleared, or the ground hardening, it came again, clear and welcome as
before, "Coming, coming, coming!" Thus I stood trembling and impatient,
counting the hoof-beats as the horse came swiftly on. Surely this must
be the man I sought; and so believing, I braced myself and waited. As
the horse neared the spot where I stood half-hidden by the overhanging
trees, it shied at sight of me, but the rider, keeping control with one
hand, drew a pistol with the other, and would have fired had I not cried
out:
"Stop! stop! stop!"
Bewildered, he hesitated, but distrustfully, calling in fierce anger:
"Throw up your hands, and come into the light, or I will kill you!"
Hastening to do as he said, and the moon striking my face as I stepped
into the road, he lowered his pistol, crying out:
"My God, Gilbert!"
Recognizing Uncle Job's voice, I answered, but hardly above a whisper,
so overcome was I at seeing him.
"Great heavens! what are you doing here?" he went on, springing from his
horse; but I knew no more till I found myself lying in the road and he
bending over me.
"There, you are coming round; but, my God! how pale and wan you look,
and how torn your face! Have you been ill, or what is the matter?" he
asked, his voice choked and trembling.
"No, I'm all right," I answered; and indeed the sight of him filled me
with such happiness that my weariness left me ere I had finished
speaking.
"There! do not get up. Lie where you are, and when you are strong
enough you can tell me how it happens that you are here and alone, and
at this time of night," he replied, his face clouded with anxiety.
"I ran away to escape Moth; but I've something else to tell you," I
answered, remembering the tragedy at the cabin and Burke waiting beside
the road, "and it's about you," I went on, overcome by the recollection.
"There is no hurry to tell it," he answered, tenderly. "We can stay here
till morning for all the difference it will make; so calm yourself."
"There is need, though, for Burke is waiting by the road to kill you," I
answered, getting to my feet and striving to overcome my weakness.
"What is that you say? Some one waiting to kill me?" he asked, peering
into my face, as if he thought I had lost my senses.
"Yes; I heard them planning it in the cabin in Murderer's Hollow," I
answered, simply.
"Good heavens! what could have taken you there, Gilbert?" he asked, as
if still doubting what I said.
"I was crossing the valley, and reached the cabin as the robbers came
up," I answered, striving to make myself clear, "and seeing them first,
hid in the shadow of the hut."
"You said one before, and now you say two," he answered, as if the
discrepancy confirmed his thought that I was mad.
"There were two--Burke and Blott."
"Burke and Blott?"
"Yes; our Blott, and Burke, who robbed Mr. Singleton; but when Blott
refused to aid, Burke killed him."
"What is all this you are telling me, my poor boy?" he replied, his
voice shaking. "Surely you are dreaming."
"No, I'm not; and afterward Burke hurried away to wait your coming."
"Burke! What on earth can he be doing here, unless, indeed, he has been
driven from his home, and so turned outlaw. Did he know it was me?"
"I think not, for I never thought of you at all."
"How did he know I was coming this way to-night?"
"Some one in Appletop sent him word, he said."
"He only wanted to rob me. He could not have wished to kill me, unless
in revenge!" Uncle Job answered, inquiringly.
"Yes, both rob and kill you, and as it had been agreed between him and
the person in Appletop, he said."
Upon this I told Uncle Job all that I had heard and seen at the cabin.
When I had finished, he stood for a long time silent, asking himself
over and over again who it was that could have informed Burke of his
coming, or that desired his death, and wherefore, if, indeed, it was not
a ruse of Burke's to deceive Blott.
"I can't make it out," he said at last. "The river is too low for boats
to pass the rapids, so I had to come this way, and started late on
purpose to avoid highwaymen, for I have a lot of money with me."
"Burke knew all about it," I answered; "even the hour you were to
start."
"Then it is lucky I was delayed; but I have still time to pay my
respects to him, the villain!" he answered, throwing the rein over his
horse's neck.
"Time to do what?" I asked.
"To go on to the cabin and take or kill Burke, the cold-blooded
assassin!" he answered, grimly.
"No, no! You'll not do that, Uncle Job, surely!" I cried.
"Yes, I must have Burke, or know who it is that sent him word. My life
may depend upon it hereafter."
"He'll kill you! He's a devil, but soft and purring like a cat," I
answered, remembering Burke's way.
"I will not give him a chance. Besides, Blott may not be dead."
"I know he is, for his hand dropped like lead," I answered.
"Very likely, and deserves it for the company he was in; but pistols
don't always kill. You stay here," he went on, preparing to mount;
"there is no danger, and I will be back in an hour."
"No. If you're going, I'm going, too," I answered, determined not to be
alone again in this forest, so full of horrors.
"Well, do as you like. There will be no danger if we can reach the
place without being seen."
"That'll be easy enough, for the trees will hide us; but I wish you'd go
back to Appletop," I answered, full of forebodings.
"To be shot from a bush to-morrow? No! I must find out who it is that
seeks my life, if, indeed, there is any one save Burke himself."
"Burke'll never tell, I know he'll not," I answered, still hoping to
dissuade him.
"Well, I will get him, anyway, and that will make one enemy the less to
guard against," he replied, springing into the saddle.
Lifting me up behind him, he put spurs to his horse, and in a few
minutes we reached the top of the bluff. Turning into the forest, we
made our way to the grove back of the cabin, and here, fastening the
horse, we crept forward on our hands and knees to the rear of the hut.
Peering within, and everything being as I had left it, we made our way
into the dark inclosure. Closing the door, Uncle Job went to Blott,
bidding me keep a lookout for Burke; and this I could do through the
opening in the wall without in any way betraying our presence. Trying
first his pulse and then his heart, Uncle Job exclaimed at last:
"There is life in him, but whether he can be brought around or not is
another thing." Saying which, he got down on his knees and began to
beat the man's arms and chest, prying his mouth open at last, and
breathing into it, as if he would force life into the body whether or
no.
While thus engaged, Burke emerged from the shadows of the trees, and
upon my crying out, Uncle Job got up, and taking a pistol in each hand,
stationed himself in the middle of the room. Reaching the door, Burke
pushed it open, and doing so, stood outlined in the bright moonlight.
At this, and before he could enter or suspect our presence, Uncle Job
cried out in a terrible voice:
"Throw up your hands, Burke, or you are a dead man!"
Surprised, the robber stepped back, wavering, as if uncertain whether to
fly or grasp his weapons; but Uncle Job advancing, thrust his pistols
forward, calling out again:
"Quick! before I kill you!" And upon this, Burke, with a dreadful oath,
did as he was ordered.
"Thanks, Colonel, thanks!" Uncle Job went on, more quietly. "I had not
expected to meet you so soon again; but back up a little, will you?
There, that will do. Now, Gilbert, come and relieve him of his pistols.
There is no danger, lad, for I will kill him if he stirs so much as a
hair," he added, pressing the weapons close against Burke's breast.
Doing as I was told, I went to the robber, and taking his pistols, hid
them in the cabin. "We are getting on finely, Gilbert. Now see if he
has a knife. Don't be afraid." Obeying, I took from Burke a murderous
weapon, which I threw, with all my might into the surrounding weeds.
All this while the robber stood still, his eyes darting this way and
that, as a wild beast's might when suddenly brought to bay.
"Now, Colonel, I must trouble you to remove your coat. There, thank you!
Gilbert, take off his belt and strap his arms to his body," Uncle Job
went on, pleasantly, keeping his pistols all the while leveled upon
Burke. "Tighter, lad, tighter! Don't leave any slack. We are getting
on, Colonel, we are getting on; so don't be impatient. Now take my
belt, Gilbert, and bind his legs together in the same way. Harder, boy!
you don't half pull! There, that is better. I am sorry to do this,
Colonel, but assassins and those who murder without knowing why must be
carefully looked to," Uncle Job ran on in a chatty way, as if costuming
a friend and being desirous of doing it well, even at some personal
inconvenience. "Now, Colonel, I must ask you to lie down. There, so,
so! That will do; and let me advise you to keep still if you value your
life, for I am in a mood to kill you," Uncle Job added, soberly enough,
examining Burke's fastenings as he spoke, tightening them and turning
the belts about so that the buckles could not be reached.
To all that was said and done, Burke made no response, seeming to feel
that it was useless to make remonstrance. Indeed, his discovery and the
dead man lying in full view told him that to beg for mercy was a waste
of breath. When at last Uncle Job had things fixed to his liking, he
stopped, and looking at Burke, said:
"Now that we have some leisure, Burke, I should like to know how it
happens you are here, and an outlaw, for when I saw you last you were
about to return to Mississippi."
"Yes, and I should, except for your robbing me of my winnings, curse
you!" he answered, but mildly, and as if speaking to a friend.
"What difference did that make?" Uncle Job asked.
"All the difference in the world, for I could then have recouped myself,
but being under a ban I dared not go back empty-handed."
"Then it was for both gain and revenge that you were going to kill me
to-night?"
"Were you the man I was waiting for?" Burke asked, in surprise.
"Yes, and you knew it."
"No; for if I had I would have gone to Appletop to make sure of killing
you," Burke answered.
"I should have thought Blott's murder enough for one night," Uncle Job
answered, impatiently.
"That was nothing. He brought it on himself, the fool! And I should
have slept soundly for a week could I have killed you, too. That is the
way such things affect me," Burke replied, looking Uncle Job coldly in
the face.
"Have you no conscience?" the latter asked, out of all patience.
"Don't talk cant! Conscience is a matter of digestion. If that is good,
I sleep soundly; if not, a cricket will make me start with fear."
"Have you no mercy, either, Burke?" Uncle Job asked.
"No, not if it would rob me of a crumb or a drop of water I craved. It
is every one for himself as I look at it."
"You devil! You don't deserve to live."
"Yes, as much as you. We are both animals, only differently built. You
can live on vegetables, but I must have meat and plenty of it, and not
cooked too well, either."
"Well, all this leads to nothing; but I should like to ask you a
question, Burke, and if you are wise, you will answer it frankly," Uncle
Job responded.
"You can ask as many as you like, and I will do as I think best about
answering them, Mr. Throckmorton," the other replied, with a soft purr
in his voice, as if speaking to a comrade.
"What I want to know is, who told you I was to pass this way to-night,
if, indeed, any one told you?"
"Well, really, I should like to oblige you, but you will have to excuse
me," Burke answered, looking at Uncle Job as if it pained him beyond
expression to refuse his request.
"Then you refuse to tell?" Uncle Job replied, disappointment clearly
showing in his voice.
"Thank you, yes; I can't, really. And now may I ask you a question in
return?" Burke answered.
"Yes, but I will not promise to answer you," Uncle Job replied, shortly.
"Of course not, Mr. Throckmorton, of course not. It is nothing of
importance, anyway."
"Well, what is it, Burke?"
"It is this, if you don't mind. Who told you I was waiting by the
roadside for you?"
"I don't know that there is any harm in telling you, but I guess I had
better not," Uncle Job replied, glancing at me. "Perhaps it was the same
person who told you I was coming this way. Who knows? I will make a
bargain with you, though, Burke, if you have a mind. Answer my question
and I will answer yours."
To this Burke made no reply, shutting his mouth as if it concealed a
secret of the greatest value to him.
"Very well; we will say no more about it," Uncle Job continued. "Now,
Gilbert, if you will look after him, I will see if I can do anything for
Blott." And going into the cabin, he got down on his knees and
commenced to work over the fallen man as before. "His heart flutters
and there is life in him, if I only knew how to get at it, but that is
just where I fail," he exclaimed at last, rising to his feet. "We must
have a doctor, Gilbert, and quickly, if he is to be saved."
"A doctor!" I answered.
"Yes; and to get him we must go to Appletop."
"Blott will surely die before he could reach here," I answered.
"Perhaps not, if you were to go without loss of time," Uncle Job
replied, looking at me inquiringly.
"I'll not go," I answered, shortly, determined not to leave him alone
with Burke.
"Why not? No harm can come to you, and I am as safe here as in bed.
Besides, it may save Blott's life. You are not strong enough, though,
to stand the ride, I am afraid," he added, scanning my face.
"I'm all right, but I wouldn't know where to go," I answered.
"Oh, that will be easy enough. The road we came leads there, and you
can't miss it. In the middle of the town as you go forward there is a
park where all the roads meet, and at the end of the one you are
following there is a tavern, with a wide porch and green blinds. Stop
there and tell them what is wanted, and they will do the rest."
"I can't leave you here alone," I answered, nowise inclined to do as he
said.
"There is no danger; and how will I dispose of Burke if you don't go for
help?" he replied.
"All right, I'll go," I answered, seeing there was no other way.
"That is a brave lad! Tell them to send a surgeon and a man to aid.
There! not another word. The dapple-gray mare is as gentle as a lamb,
and will carry you like the wind"; and without saying more he went and
brought her to where I stood, and lifting me into the saddle, shortened
the stirrups and tightened the girth. "Don't spare her, my lad. She is
good for fifty miles, and a better horse you never had at Wild Plum, if
you have the strength to stand the ride."
"I'm as strong as an ox," I answered; "and you know I'm used to horses."
"Yes; but look well to the saddlebags, my boy, for the money is not
mine. Now be off, and God bless you!" he cried, stepping back and
waving me away.