Joe Lorey was unhappy in his mountains. After the visiting party had
gone down from Layson's camp, and, in course of time, Layson himself had
followed them because of the approach of the great race which was to
make or mar his fortunes, the man breathed easier, although their coming
and the subsequent events had made, he knew, impressions on his life
which never could be wiped away. He hated Layson none the less because
he had departed. He argued that he had not gone until he viciously had
stolen that thing which he, Lorey, valued most: the love of beautiful
Madge Brierly. He brooded constantly upon this, neglecting his small
mountain farm, spending almost all his time at his illegal trade of
brewing untaxed whisky in his hidden still, despite the girl's continual
urgings to give up the perilous occupation before it was too late. He
had told her that he would, if she would marry him; now that she would
not, he told her surlily that he would continue to defy the law even if
he knew that every "revenuer" in the state was on his trail. He was
conscious that there was real danger; he believed that Layson knew about
the still and that the bitter enmity resulting from the fight which had
so nearly proved his death might prompt him to betrayal of the secret;
but with the stubbornness of the mountaineer he clung doggedly to his
illegal apparatus in the mountain-cave, kept doggedly at the illegal
work he did with it. It was characteristic of the man, his forbears and
his breed in general, that, now, when he knew that deadly danger well
might threaten, he sent more moonshine whisky from the still than ever
had gone from it in like length of time, either in his father's day or
his.
That his actual and only dangerous enemy was Holton, he did not, for an
instant, guess. He knew of not the slightest reason why this stranger
should include him in the hatred he had sworn he felt for Layson--that
hatred which, he had assured him, was as bitter as his own. He would
have been as much astonished as dismayed had he known that Holton's
almost instant action, upon arriving at the county-seat, had been to
make a visit to the local chief of the Revenue-Service--cautiously, at
night, for to be known as an informer might have cost his life at other
hands than Lorey's, would have made the mountain for far miles blaze
vividly with wrath against him.
So, defiant of the man he thought to be his foe, unconscious of the
hatred of the man who really was, Lorey was working in his still when a
small boy, sent up from a cabin far below, dashed, breathless, to him
with the news that revenue-men were actually upon their way in his
direction. He had scarcely time to put his fire out, hide the lighter
portions of his apparatus and flee to a safe hiding-place, nearby,
before, clambering with lithe skill and caution almost equal to his own
along the rocky pathways of the mountain-side, armed like soldiers
scouting in a hostile country, cool-eyed as Indians, hard-faced as
executioners, they actually appeared.
For a time, as Lorey watched their progress from his covert, he held his
rifle levelled, held his finger on its trigger, determined to kill them
in their tracks; and it was no thrill of mercy for the men or fear of
consequences to himself which saved their lives. It was rather that he
did not wish further to risk his liberty until he had had opportunity to
glance along the gleaming barrel of his rifle as it was pointed at Frank
Layson's heart.
After the men had gone he went back to his still to view the ruins they
had left behind them. His wrath was terrible. Madge, who had, of course,
learned what had happened almost instantly, for the still was scarcely
out of hearing of her cabin, tried vainly to console, to calm him. He
turned on her with a rage of which, in all her life among hot-tempered
mountaineers, she had never seen the equal, and chokingly swore
vengeance on the man who had given the information which had resulted
in the raid.
"They come straight to th' still," he told her, "never falterin', never
wonderin' if, maybe, they was on th' right path. Ev'ry inch o' th' hull
way had been mapped out for 'em, an' they didn't make a mis-step from
th' valley to th' very entrance o' th' cave. I'll git th' chap that
planned their course out for 'em thataway! I'll git 'im, Madge! I'll git
'im, sure!"
Her heart sank in her breast like lead. She knew perfectly whom Lorey
meant. She knew as perfectly that Layson never had informed upon the
moonshiner, but she also knew that Heaven itself could not, then,
convince the man of that.
"Who do you mean you'll git, Joe?" she faltered, hoping against hope
that she was wrong in her suspicions.
"You know well enough," he answered. "Who would I mean but that damn'
furriner, Frank Layson? He warn't satisfied with comin' here an'
stealin' you away from me! He had to put th' revenuers on th' track o'
th' old still that was my dad's afore me, an' has been th' one thing,
siden you, I've ever keered fer in my life."
"You're wrong, Joe," she insisted. "You're shore wrong. Frank Layson'd
never do a coward's trick like that!"
"He done it!" Lorey answered doggedly. "He done it, an' as there is a
God in Heaven he air goin' to pay th' price fer doin' it!"
With that he stalked off down the trail, his rifle held as ever in the
crook of his elbow, his brows as black as human brows could be.
For a time she sat there on a rock, gazing after him, half-stupefied,
with eyes wide, terror-stricken. What could a mere girl do to avert the
dreadful tragedy impending? Tireless as he was, she knew that he could
keep upon the trail for twenty-four hours without a pause, and that such
travelling, with the lifts which he would get from mountain teamsters,
would take him to the home of the man whose life he had determined to
snuff out at any hazard. Beside herself with fright for Frank, she sped
back to her cabin, took what food was ready-cooked and could be bundled
up to carry on the journey, put on her heaviest shoes and started for
the door. But, suddenly, the thought flashed through her mind that, even
as Joe Lorey was bound down the trails to meet his rival, so would she
be bound down them to meet her own. She could not bear the thought of
facing Barbara Holton, clad, as she was now, in rough, half-shapeless,
mountain-homespun. She made another bundle, larger than the one which
held her food, by many times, and, when she finally set off, this bundle
held the finery which she had so laboriously prepared in the mad hope of
rivaling the work of the bluegrass belle's accomplished city
dressmakers.
Down in the bluegrass home of the ancient Layson family all was
excitement in anticipation of the race which was to mean so much to the
fortunes of the young master of the fine old mansion which, with
pillared porticos and mighty chimneys, dominated the whole section.
Layson's heart was filled with confidence whenever he went to the
stables to view the really startling beauty of the lovely animal on
which his hope was pinned; it sunk into despair, when, seated in his
study in the house, away from her, he counted up the cost of all which
he would lose if she did not run first in the great race.
None but the Colonel, Miss Alathea and himself had an idea of the real
magnitude of the stakes dependant on Queen Bess. Upon the glossy
shoulders of the lovely mare rested, indeed, a great burden of
responsibility. If she won she would not only secure the large purse for
the owner, but be salable for a price which would enable him to take
advantage, fully, of the offer which the syndicate had made to develop
his coal lands. If she failed--well, the fortunes of the house of Layson
would be seriously shattered.
No wonder, then, that Uncle Neb, in whom his master's confidence was
absolute, had strict injunctions closely to guard the mare. The faithful
negro watched her with a vigilance which was scarcely less unremitting
in the daytime than it was at night when he slept upon the very straw
which bedded her.
Miss Alathea, intensely prejudiced against horse-racing and the gambling
which invariably goes with it, by the Colonel's wasted life and her own
ensuing loneliness, nevertheless prayed night and day that Queen Bess
would be victorious, for Frank had finally refused, point-blank, to let
her risk her fortune in the scheme for the development of his
coal-lands, and so, if the mare lost and the eastern firm refused to
purchase her at the large price which would enable him to join the
syndicate, his great chance would be gone. Perhaps not once in the
world's history had any maiden-lady, constitutionally opposed to betting
and the race-track, given as much thought to an impending contest
between horses on which great sums were certain to be won and lost, as
Miss Alathea did, these days.
And if Miss Alathea was excited, what should be said about the gallant
Colonel? Every day he visited the Layson place; every day he scrutinized
the mare with wise and anxious eyes; every day he from his soul assured
her owner and her owner's aunt that it was quite impossible that she
should lose; every day he cautioned Neb, her guardian, to let no human
being, whom he did not know and whom he and his master had not every
cause to trust implicitly, approach the splendid beast. Wise in the ways
of race-tracks and the unscrupulous men who have, unfortunately, thrown
the sport of kings into sad disrepute, he feared some treachery
continually.
Neb scarcely left the stable-yard, by day, unless the mare went with
him, by night he slept so that he could, by reaching out a wrinkled,
ebon hand, actually touch her glossy hide. He fed her himself with oats
and hay which he examined with the utmost care before they found her
manger or her rack; he watered her himself with water from a well within
the stable and guarded by locked doors, drawn in a pail which,
invariably, he rinsed with boiling water before he filled it up for her.
No drugs should reach that mare if _he_ could help it! None but himself
or his "Marse Frank" was under any circumstances permitted to get on her
back. If watchfulness could possibly preserve the mare unharmed and in
fine shape until the day of the great race, Neb plainly meant to see
that this was done. Even the amateur brass-band and glee-club into which
he had organized the stable-boys and other negro lads about the place,
and of which he acted as drum-major--the proudest moment of his life
were when he donned the moth-eaten old shako which was his towering
badge of leadership--must practice nowhere save within the stable-yard,
where he could train them and, at the same time, keep watchful eyes upon
Queen Bess' quarters.
The negroes, young and old, about the place, indeed, were wild with
their enthusiasm for the mare. The day before the race a delegation of
them, full of eagerness, met Neb as he came out of the stable.
"Say, Unc Neb," said one of them, "we-all's made a pool."
"Pool on de races?"
"Uh-huh! An' we-all wants to know jes' what we ought to put ouah money
on."
They well knew what he would say.
"Queen Bess, fo' suah," he answered, to their vast delight. "Queen Bess
ebery time. She's fit to run fo' huh life."
The boys accepted the suggestion with a shout, and he was about to enter
into one of the long dissertations on the strong points of his equine
darling, when he was informed that some stranger was approaching. He
peered down the road with his old eyes, but could not recognize the
visitor.
"Who is it?" he asked one of the black lads.
"Marse Holton."
"Marse Holton!" he repeated dryly. "Run along, now, honiest. Unc' Neb
gwine be busy. I won't hab dat ar Marse Holton pryin' round dat mare.
Hoodoo her fo' suah." He sidled to the stable door, and, careful to see
that his bent body hid the operation from the coming visitor, turned the
key in the big lock. The key he then slipped into his capacious trousers
pocket.
"Hello, Neb," said Holton, affably, as he came up.
"Ebenin', suh." Neb added nothing to this greeting and went
nonchalantly to a distant bench to sit down on it carelessly.
"I say, Neb," said Holton, "I expect to do a little betting, so I
thought I'd jest drop over and take a look at Layson's mare."
Neb sat immovable upon his bench. At first, indeed, he did not even
speak, but, finally, he looked at Holton calmly, took the key out of his
pocket, tossed it in the air, caught it as it came down, put it back
into his pocket and dryly said: "T'ink not, suh."
Holton, paying no attention to him, had gone on to the stable-door and
tried it. Finding it to be fast locked, he turned back toward the
darkey. "The door's locked, Neb," he said.
"Knowed dat afore, suh," Neb replied.
Holton was nettled by his nonchalance. "Open that door!" he ordered.
"Not widout Marse Holton's ohduhs, suh," Neb answered calmly.
"What do you mean?" demanded Holton, angrily.
"Jus' what I say, suh."
Holton made a slightly threatening movement toward him, but Neb did not
even wink.
"Don't git riled, suh--bad fo' de livuh, suh."
Holton, now, was very angry. "Look here," he said, advancing on the aged
negro angrily. "Do you dare insult a friend and neighbor of Mr. Layson?"
Neb slowly rose and answered with some dignity: "I dares obey Marse
Frank's plain ohduhs, suh. Dat mare represents full twenty-fi' thousan'
dolluhs to him" (Neb rolled the handsome figures lovingly upon his
tongue), "an' dere's thousan's more'll be bet on huh to-morruh." He
looked at Holton with but thinly veiled contempt. "Plenty men 'u'd risk
deir wuthless lives to drug huh."
"Oh, shucks!" said Holton, trying to control his temper because of his
great eagerness to get in to the mare. "She would be safe with me; you
know it."
"I knows Marse Frank hab barred ebery window an' sealed ebery doah but
dis one, an' gib me ohduhs to let no one in 'cept he is by. I stan's by
dem ohduhs while dere's bref in my ol' body."
Holton was infuriated. "It's lucky for you I'm not your master!"
"Dat's what I t'ink, suh."
"If you _was_ my nigger, I'd teach you perliteness with a black-snake
whip! I'll see what Layson'll say to such sass as you've gin me. Jest
you wait till you hear from him."
Neb was not impressed by the man's wrath. "Huhd from him afoah, suh. Oh,
I'll wait, I'll wait."
He went up to the stable-door, unlocked it and stood in the open portal.
Holton would have followed him, but Neb began to close the door.
"You'll wait, too, suh," said the negro, grinning, "on de outside,
suh."
He closed and locked the door on the inside.
Holton was beside himself with wrath. "Damn him! Damn him!" he
exclaimed. "Damn him and damn his proud young puppy of a master! I'll
ruin him! I'll set my foot on him and smash him, yet!"
Baffled, he walked down the drive.
"There's a way," he told himself. "It's bold and risky, but nobody'll
suspicion me. I've kept straight here in the bluegrass. The mountains
and all as ever knowed me thar are far away!"
But all who had known him in the mountains were not as far away as he
supposed. Even as he spoke a dusty, weary figure in worn homespun,
carrying a mammoth bundle, limping sadly upon bruised and blistered
feet, came through the shrubbery, approaching the great stables from the
far side of the big house-lot. Holton looked at this wayfarer with
amazement.
"Madge Brierly!" he cried. "Gal, what are you a-doin' here?"
"Don't know's I've got any call to tell you," Madge replied, almost as
much astonished at the sight of him as he had been at sight of her. Then
she smiled roguishly at him. "Maybe you'll find out, though."
"I tell you this ain't no place for you," he admonished her. "Lordy!
They takes up folks that looks like you, for vagrants. Take my advice,
turn back to the mountings."
She looked at him with that same smile, still unimpressed.
For no reason which he could have well explained the man was almost
panic-stricken in his keen anxiety to get the girl away from the old
Layson homestead and the possibility of meeting those who dwelt therein.
"Here, if you'll go," he added, and thrust his hand into his pocket,
"I'll give you money--money to help you on your way."
Still she smiled at him with that aggravating, meaning smile; that smile
which he could by no means fathom and of which she scarcely knew the
meaning. "No," she said, "I don't want your money. You couldn't hire me
to leave the bluegrass till I've seen Frank Layson."
Seeing that she was determined, unable to conjecture what she had come
down for, realizing, upon second thought, that it was most improbable
that she had any tale to tell of him, he reluctantly gave way. "As you
will, then," he said slowly. "But let me warn you that you won't be
welcome hyar. You'll learn the difference between the mounting and the
bluegrass folks. You'd better think it over and turn back."
"I'll not," said she.
As he walked disgustedly away she watched him curiously. "I wonder why
he is so sot on makin' me go back?" she mused. "Maybe he air right in
sayin' that I won't be welcome; but I'll do my duty, just th' same!"
Neb came out from the stable. The girl saw him with delight. "Dellaw!"
she said. "How tired I be! Howdy, Uncle Neb; howdy!"
"Sakes alive!" he cried. "It's de frenomenom, come down frum de
mountains! Howdy, honey, howdy!" He hurried toward her and saw that she
was near to tears from weariness and the strain of what she had gone
through and what she had to tell. "Why, chil', what's de mattuh?"
"Pebble in my shoe," she answered, and busied herself as if removing
one. "All right in a minute. This air a long way from th' mountings."
"Honey, you don't mean you _walked_!"
"Had to. Wings ain't growed, yet. Say; I've come to bring a word to Mr.
Frank. Is he to home?" She motioned toward the stable, which was the
finest building she had ever seen.
"Yes; but he don't lib dar, honey."
"Don't he? Who does, then?"
"Queen Bess."
"Queen Bess!" The girl was thunderstruck; her worry choked her. She knew
Frank owned a blooded mare, but did not know her name, and she had but
vaguely heard of queens. "Well--air she to home?"
"Yes; an' Marse Frank, an' Miss 'Lethe, an' Miss Barbara's comin', purty
soon, to see huh."
"Miss Barbarous!" said Madge, aroused by the mere mention of the girl
who, from the start, she had recognized, instinctively, as her real
enemy. It had been thought of her, alone, which had made her bear the
weary burden of the bundle on the long journey from the mountains. "I'd
like to fix a little, 'fore she comes. I got some idees o' fashion from
her, when she was up thar, an' I been workin' ev'ry minute I could
spare, since then, on a new dress. Ain't thar some place I can go to
fashion up before they come?"
The old negro was acutely sympathetic. He disliked Miss Barbara and
liked the mountain girl. His old black head, thick as it was, sometimes,
had quickly recognized the fact that Barbara regarded Madge as one to be
despised, humiliated, while his master treated her with much
consideration and thought highly of her. He did not like the daughter of
Horace Holton any better than he liked the man himself. If he could help
the mountain girl he would. The only place where she could possibly find
privacy, without going to the house, was in the stable with the
race-horse. He would have trusted no one else on earth with her; to
distrust Madge, however, did not once occur to him.
"Missy," he said slowly, "I reckon you can go right in dar wid Queen
Bess."
She was a bit appalled. "Maybe she wouldn't like it," she objected.
"She won't keer if you don't go too close."
"I'm kinder 'feared."
"Don't gib her no chance to kick. You's all right, den."
"Kick!" said the girl, amazed. Kicking did not seem to her to fit the
character of queens.
Neb unlocked the stable door. "Or bite," he added.
"Bite! Dellaw!" the girl exclaimed, still more amazed. How little she
had learned of royalty up in the mountains!
The aged negro threw the door wide open. "Go in, honey, now; go in," he
said.
"I'm skeered!" she said, and tiptoed to the stable door. She peered in
cautiously. Then she turned and faced him with much-puzzled eyes. "I
don't see nothin' but a hoss," she said.
"Uh-huh; dat's Queen Bess." Old Neb stood chuckling, looking at her.
"Queen Bess is Mister Frank's race-hoss!" she cried, delighted by the
revelation. "Well, now, I feel to home." She went into the stable with
her bundle, half-closed the door and then peeped out at Neb. "You won't
let any one come in?"
He held the key up reassuringly. "Don't you see I's got de key, honey?"
"I'd feel safer if I had that key myself," said she, and snatched it
from him. An instant later and the door was closed and locked on the
inside.
Neb was alarmed. He had disobeyed plain orders in letting her go in at
all. For him to let that key out of his possession was a further
violation which he feared to be responsible for. He pounded on the door.
"Open de doah, honey," he implored. "I mus' hab dat key!"
"All right," said she, "soon's I am dressed."
He fell back from the door dismayed. "De Lawd help me!" he groaned.
"What's I gwine ter do? An' I war so mighty firm 'bout dat key wid Marse
Holton!" He paced the space before the stable door in agitation. "But I
reckon she'll be t'rough befo' Marse Frank comes," he comforted himself.
She was not, though. While Neb still paced the stable yard in acute
worry, Frank, Miss Alathea, Barbara and Holton came toward him in a
laughing group. He almost fainted.
"Here we are, Neb," his master cried, "ready for a look at Queen Bess."
"Yessah, yessah, pwesently!" Neb stammered, and would have paled had
nature made provision for such exhibition of his feelings. "I jus'
nachelly hab got to speak to dem ar stable boys a minute, fust. Jus'
'scuse me fo' a minute, suh." He vanished hurriedly, hoping that by this
diversion he could gain a little time for Madge and for himself.
Layson gazed after him with some astonishment, then went and tried the
stable door. "Of course the door's locked," he explained, annoyed, "but
he'll be back here in a minute."
Miss Alathea smiled. The attitude of the young master toward the aged
negro often was amusing to her. She liked to watch the constant evidence
of that rare affection which formed an inseparable bond between them.
Suddenly she heard the crunching of a man's heavy footsteps on the
gravel, back of them. Turning, she saw that the newcomer was the
Colonel, and the Colonel in great haste. This was most impressive, for
the Colonel did not often hurry.
"Here comes the Colonel, Frank," she said, "and see how he is hurrying!"
"Something's up," her nephew answered, "when the Colonel hurries." Then,
as the horseman came up to them: "Why, Colonel, what's the matter?"
"A shock! A regular shock! As I came from Lexington, just now, I saw you
standing here, so I sent the boy on with the buggy and cut across to
meet you. Just as I passed the thicket by the spring I caught a glimpse
of a man, who then vanished like a ghost, but I swear that man was that
lank mountaineer, Joe Lorey, and that he tried to keep out of my sight."
"Joe Lorey!" Frank exclaimed. "What can he want down here?"
"Who knows? Maybe to finish the work he began in the mountains."
"More than likely," Holton ventured. "A rifleshot in the back, or a
match touched to a building."
"_I_ don't believe it," Frank said stoutly. "The man who laid down his
weapons to give me a fair, square fight, wouldn't stoop to things like
that."
"'Pears to me the man who fired that bomb 'u'd do most anythin'," said
Holton.
"That was in a fit of anger. Lorey swore to Madge that he thought better
of his impulse to do murder, stamped upon the burning fuse, and believed
that he had put it out, and I believe him."
He saw, now, that his aunt was badly frightened, and cautioned the other
men. "Not another word about him, now, at any rate, or Aunt 'Lethe won't
once close her eyes to-night."
"Well," said the Colonel, quite agreeing with him and hastening to
change the subject, "here's something much more interesting, anyway. A
letter from the Company. Looks official and important."
Frank took the letter, opened it and gazed at it in some dismay. "I
should think so," he exclaimed. "An assessment of $15,000 on my stock."
"Fifteen thousand devils!"
"No; fifteen thousand dollars."
The Colonel took the letter from his hand and looked at it with worried
eyes. "And you've got to meet it, Frank, or lose what you've put in."
Miss Alathea went to her nephew anxiously. "You'll sell Queen Bess, now,
won't you?" she implored. "You could pay it then. Best sell her."
The young man stood there, deep in worried thought. "If I were quite
convinced of the Company's good faith in everything, I'd risk it all,
even the loss of Woodlawn, my old home," he answered.
Neb now appeared from around a corner of the stable, evidently having
decided that the girl had had enough time for her toilet, or afraid to
wait another minute. His appearance created a diversion.
"Here, Neb," said Frank, "we've had enough nonsense. Let's see Queen
Bess, now."
Neb looked anxiously for signs that Madge was ready to see visitors, he
listened at the door. He saw no sign, he heard no signal. He was scared,
but he was faithful to his promise to the girl. He planted his old back
against the door. "Now de trouble am commencin'!" he assured himself.
Holton looked at him with a sour smile. "I hope," he said to Frank,
"that you'll have better luck nor me. Neb wouldn't open that door for
me."
"Dem was yo' ohduhs, suh," said Neb, appealing to his master.
"An' he was powerful sassy in the bargain," Holton went on, full of
malice, hoping to make Neb suffer for defying him.
Layson, however, much as he was now annoyed by the old darky's
hesitation about opening the stable door for him, himself, did not
propose to chide him for having kept his trust and held it closed to
others. "You mustn't mind Neb," he said to Holton. "He's a privileged
character around here. I had told him to admit no one, and, as usual, he
obeyed my orders blindly."
"Yes, suh," Neb declared, delighted, "went it blind, suh."
"His obedience," his master went on boastingly, "is really phenomenal.
He wouldn't open that door for anybody. He'd guard the key with his own
life." He turned to Neb. "Wouldn't you, now, Neb?"
Neb was disconcerted. It was true enough that from most people he
certainly would have guarded that key with his life. But at that moment
there was one within the stable from whom he had _not_ guarded it.
"Yes--yessah!" he said hesitantly. And as he said it he would have given
anything he had if he could have laid his hands upon that self-same key.
Frank smiled at him. "But I suppose you'll let _me_ have a look at her."
"Yes--yessuh--in a--in a minute, suh."
Layson was annoyed. "Why not at once?" He was beginning to be
frightened. Could something Neb was trying to hide have happened to the
mare?
"Bekase--bekase--" Ned stammered, "well, to tell de trufe, suh, bekase I
is afeared she ain't quite dressed."
"Not dressed! The mare not dressed! Have you lost your senses? Open that
door--quick!"
"Marse Frank, I cain't. I nachully jus' cain't."
Holton was enjoying this. "You see," he said, "he won't open it for
nobody. Not even for th' man as owns it an' th' mare behind it."
"Give me the key!" said Frank.
"De key--de key--" Neb stammered.
"I said the key!"
The old negro advanced pitifully. "Fo' de lawd, Marse Frank, I hasn't
got it!"
"He'd guard it with his life!" said Holton, with deep sarcasm.
"Where is it?" Frank demanded.
"In dar," said Neb, and pointed to the stable.
Layson, astonished and annoyed beyond the power of words by the old
negro's strange performance, fearful of the safety of his mare, entirely
puzzled, sprang toward the stable window and was about to pull himself
up by the ledge so that he might look in.
Neb seized him and pulled him from the aperture with a desperate agility
which strained his aged limbs. "Fo' de Lawd's sake, now, Marse Frank,"
he cried, "don't yo' dare look t'rough dat stable winder!"
Frank, now, was badly frightened. "Is there some one in there with Queen
Bess?" he asked.
"A young pusson to see you, suh," Neb admitted.
"And you let that person have the key?"
"No, suh; it were taken from me."
Layson was in panic. "Heaven knows," he exclaimed, "what can have
happened here!" He rushed to the stable door and pounded on it with his
fists. "Open at once, or I'll break in the door," he cried.
Neb, now, had gone up to the window and looked through it with desperate
glance. What he saw was reassuring. He turned back toward his master
smiling. "Hol' on, Marse Frank, de young pusson am a-comin' out," he
said.
"Well," said Layson, threateningly, "I'm ready for him." He braced
himself to spring upon some malefactor.
The door opened and Madge appeared before their astonished eyes, garbed
in a gown which she had fashioned after that which Barbara had worn up
in the hills.
"Madge!" cried Frank, amazed.
The Colonel, laughing, approached the girl with outstretched hand; Neb,
relieved, dived through the stable door; Miss Alathea, who had been
under a great strain while the dramatic little scene had been in
progress, dropped limply on Neb's bench.
Madge, with a retentive memory of the way Miss "Barbarous" had greeted
her back in the mountains, stepped toward that much-astonished maiden,
opened her red parasol straight in her face, and courtesied to the rest.
"Howdy, folks; howdy!" she said, happily.