The moonshiner stood there, pathetic in his beaten strength before them.
"They're huntin' me with dogs!" he said. "They're goin' to string me up
without justice or mercy!"
Madge hurried to his side. "Joe, they shan't do it!" she exclaimed, and
took his hand.
"It'll take more nor you to save me, little one," he said, and smiled
down at her pitifully. "There's no hope for me, now. That's why I've
come hyar, to say to you all, afore I die, that I am innocent o' firin'
th' stable." He threw back his shoulders and stood before them,
impressive and convincing. "Afore God, I am innocent!"
Frank looked at him with eyes which, as they gazed, altered their
expression. He had thought the man quite possibly guilty of a vicious
act--a foul attempt to burn a helpless animal in order to obtain revenge
upon the man who owned her. But as he gazed he could not doubt that he
was speaking simple truth. "Joe," he said impulsively, "I believe you!"
Joe turned to him with gratitude plain upon his face. "You believe
me--arter all that's passed?" He looked straight into the eyes of the
young man he had hated, with a searching, earnest gaze. "Then," he said,
after a second's pause, "I believe as what you said, that night, war
true. It war never you as ruined me." He held his hand out to the man
whom, not so long ago, he had wished, with all his heart, to kill.
Frank grasped it with a hearty grip, just as the terrifying baying of
the hounds approached the house.
"Frank, they're coming here!" the Colonel cried, excited.
Joe turned away from Frank, looking here and there like a hunted animal.
"Oh, it's hard to die afore I've met Lem Lindsay!" he said hopelessly.
It was quite plain that he considered his fate sealed.
Even as he spoke Holton and half-a-dozen others sprang to the broad
gallery which fronted the whole room. Holton was plainly the leader of
the party, for when he motioned all the others back, they obeyed his
signal without protest, while he, himself, peered eagerly in through a
wide, open window.
Frank, angered beyond measure by this bold intrusion, would have sprung
toward him, to attack him, had not the Colonel waved him back.
"Frank, my boy," said he, "keep cool, keep cool!"
As he spoke, without apology, Holton stepped through the window into
the room, itself.
"Layson," he said curtly, "I'm a committee o' one to ask if you'll turn
over that man, an' make no trouble." He jerked a thumb toward Joe.
Layson was wrathful at the man's intrusion; he had been impressed by
what the fugitive had said. "No," he answered, hotly. "Joe Lorey's in my
house, under my protection, and, by the eternal, you shan't lay a hand
on him!"
The Colonel smiled, delighted. "Kentucky blood!" he cried. "I'll back
you to a finish!"
He ranged himself by Frank, and Madge, as belligerent as either of them,
hurried, also, to his side.
"I'm with you, Colonel," she exclaimed, with the spirit of the
mountain-bred, "and we'll win ag'in, as we did once before!"
Joe saw this with distress. Layson's generosity had softened him. He
knew, perfectly, by this time, that Madge was not for him, and her
spirit in joining his defenders--the very men whom he had thought his
enemies--touched him deeply. The realization came to him with a quick
rush that he had wronged the bluegrass folk whom he had hated with such
bitterness. He looked first at those who wished to take him prisoner and
make him suffer for a crime of which he was not guilty, and then at his
defenders, who had every reason to doubt him, but still, without a
question, had accepted his own plea of innocence. He had already made
these people trouble. Now was his opportunity to save them from an
awkward situation and, perhaps, a perilous one. There might be shooting
if he offered to resist or let these good friends attempt to defend him.
That would endanger them, and, worse, endanger Madge. "I'll go. I don't
want to make no trouble," he said hastily.
Holton nodded with approval. He wished to take the man as quickly and as
simply as he could. Every complication which could be avoided would make
less probable discovery of the fact that he, himself, and not the
fugitive young mountaineer, was the real culprit.
"That's sensible," he said, "for them men, out thar, are bound to hev
you, by fair means or foul."
"Those men will listen to reason," Frank said with a determination which
disconcerted the ex-slave dealer. "They shall hear me!" He stepped
toward the open window. "Colonel, come with me." Without waiting for him
he stepped to the gallery outside.
The Colonel started to go also, but, seeing that Holton, too, was about
to hurry out, paused long enough to go up to him threateningly. "Don't
you dare to follow!" he warned him. "We'll play this hand alone." The
man fell back and the Colonel kept his eyes on him as, slowly, he joined
Frank on the gallery.
Holton's discomfiture lasted but a moment. As soon as the Colonel had
passed out of sight he got his wits back and looked threateningly at
Madge and the mountaineer. "We'll see about that," he declared
viciously, and, making a movement of his hand which indicated that he
must be armed, although he had not shown a weapon, so far, moved toward
another window which also opened on the gallery.
But he had not counted on old Neb. The darkey found in this emergency
the opportunity for which he had been waiting many years. Lapse of time
had never dulled his keen resentment of the blow the man had struck him;
now it was with keen delight that he stepped out of the shadow just
outside the window, with a carelessly held pistol in his hand, which
somehow appeared to cover Holton. "De Cunnel said you'd please stay
heah, suh," he said placidly; but the pistol gave his words an emphasis
which could not be mistaken.
Holton paled with rage, but did not take another forward step.
As he fell back Joe Lorey spoke. The murmur of the mob outside, incited,
he well knew, to hunger for his life, and the loud voices of the Colonel
and of Frank, raised in expostulation, made an accompaniment for what he
had to say to Holton, and that he still was in grave danger made his
attitude more menacing, his words more impressive.
"Yes," he said to Holton, while Madge gazed, spellbound, "you hold on.
I've a word to say to you."
"Say it, then, and say it quick," said Holton, trying to make his tone
contemptuous.
"I'll say it quick, and I'll say it plain. You know as it war never me
as fired that stable. You war there an' saw me leave afore th' fire.
It's yer place to cl'ar me. Why air you a-houndin' me to my death?"
Holton was uncomfortable. "Them men out thar believe ye guilty. It ain't
my work," he said.
The mountaineer was not deceived. He knew this man to be his enemy,
although he knew no reason for his hatred. "It's you as air settin' 'em
on," he said, "as you set me on Frank Layson when you told me that lie
ag'in him in th' mountings."
Madge had listened, speechless, during this dramatic scene, but stood
watching it, alert and ready to lend aid to her friend, if opportunity
arose. Now, at Joe's words, she started forward.
"Was it him as told you?" she inquired, amazed.
Joe did not answer her, but continued to face Holton and address him. "I
believed you," he went on, "because I thought you couldn't a-knowed o'
th' still except through him; but since he never told you, it air proof
to me that you have been in these here mountings, sometime, afore."
Strange suspicions were glittering from his hostile eyes as he faced the
now thoroughly alarmed man who, a moment since, had been the blustering
bully.
"I tell you I were never thar!" said Holton hurriedly.
"Then how did you know of th' cave an' the oak?" said Joe, accusingly.
The glitter of suspicion in his eyes was growing brighter every second.
"It's plain to me as how you've passed many a day thar in them
mountings. Thar's somethin' bound up in yer past as has egged you on
ag'in me. I wants to know what that thing is--I wants to know just who
an' what ye air!"
"It's easy enough to show who Horace Holton is," the man said,
blustering, but he was very ill at ease. "What do I care what you want?"
And then he made a slip. "You can't bring no proof--" he began, but
caught himself.
Madge had been watching him with new intentness. The excitement of the
moment may have sharpened the girl's wits, or, possibly, its hint of
peril may have brought to Holton's face some detail of expression,
which, during recent weeks, had not before appeared upon it.
"But I kin," she said, slowly. "I war right in what I thought when I
first saw you in th' mountings. I _had_ seen your face afore!"
"Don't you dare say that!" cried Holton, stepping toward her angrily.
The man who had been the accuser, was, strangely, now, quite plainly,
half at bay.
"That look ag'in!" the girl said, studying his face. "That look war
printed on my baby brain!"
"Silence, I say!" cried Holton, now badly frightened. He had not
counted on this recognition.
"Never!" the girl said boldly. She was certain, now, as she looked at
him, that the suspicion which had flashed into her mind was accurate.
Her cheeks paled and she stepped toward him with set face, clenched
hands. Every fibre in her thrilled with horror of him, every drop of
blood in her young body cried for vengeance on him. "I'll rouse th'
world ag'in ye!" she exclaimed, so tensely that even Lorey looked at her
with alarmed amazement. "I'll rouse th' world ag'in ye, for I'm standin'
face to face with my own father's murderer--Lem Lindsay!"
"Lem Lindsay!" said Joe, wonderingly, and then, with the expression on
his face of a wild-beast about to spring upon his prey: "At last!"
Holton shrank away from them in terror which he could not hide. His
bravado was all gone. He was, no longer, the accuser, but, with the
mention of that name, had changed places with Joe Lorey and become the
fugitive, shrinking, alarmed.
"'Sh! Don't speak that name!" he pleaded. He made no effort at denial.
There was that in the girl's eyes which told him that her recognition
had been absolute. "I've been hidin' it for years." He spoke pleadingly.
"Look hyar. I've got everythin' that heart can wish. Joe Lorey, I'll
save you from them men. I'll sw'ar I saw you leave the stable afore th'
fire begun." He moved his eyes from one of the accusing faces to the
other, terrified. "I'll make ye both rich if you'll never speak that
name ag'in!"
[Illustration: "I'M STANDIN' FACE TO FACE WITH MY OWN FATHER'S
MURDERER--LEM LINDSAY"]
"Your weight in gold would make no differ!" Joe cried menacingly. "Lem
Lindsay, it air Heaven's work that's given you into my hands!" He went
toward him slowly, menacingly, with his strong fingers working with
desire to clutch his shrinking throat. "It air Heaven's will as you
should meet your fall through Ben Lorey's son!"
Holton, desperate, gathered courage for a last effort to escape from the
net which he had woven to his own undoing. With a quick movement he drew
from his belt, where his long coat had concealed its presence, hitherto,
a gleaming knife, and, with it upraised, rushed at Joe viciously. "I'm a
free man, yet," he cried, "an' I'm a-goin' to stay free!"
Joe, alert, calm-eyed, cool-witted, waited for him with a hand upraised
to catch his wrist, with muscles braced to meet the fierce attack.
Madge rushed to the window, calling loudly: "Colonel! Mr. Frank!"
But Holton and Joe Lorey were, by that time, locked in a desperate grip
and struggling with the energy of men battling for their lives. Twisting
and straining, each striving with the last ounce of energy within him to
get the better of the other, they plunged across the room and out into
the hall.
Just as Frank and the Colonel hurried in, a shot was heard and then a
heavy fall. An instant later Joe came to the door.
"Heaven's will are done!" he said, quite simply.
Layson rushed toward him, but paused, aghast, looking off through the
open door. "Joe, you've killed him!" he exclaimed.
"An' I had a right!" said Joe, now strangely calm. "When he killed my
father it were ordained that he should fall by my hands. I ain't afeared
to stand my trial."
"The men outside have promised," Layson said, dismayed by this new and
terrible complication, "that you shall have a fair trial on the other
charge. They've gone, now, for the sheriff. But this charge," he looked
toward the door which led into the hall, "will be more serious!"
"I can clear him of 'em both," said Madge. "I'll sw'ar th' killin' was
in self-defense; I'll sw'ar that Holton owned, before me, that he saw
Joe leave th' stable afore th' fire."
"He saw him!" exclaimed Frank, astonished. "What was Holton doing
there?"
"Oh, don't you see?" said Madge. "He war your enemy--th' man as told Joe
th' lie ag'in you in th' mountings, th' man as tried to burn Queen
Bess."
The Colonel had entered, quickly, from the gallery, and stood listening,
amazed and fascinated. Now, after a moment's pause to think the matter
out, he advanced to Joe with outstretched hand. For the man who had
been guilty of that vile mischief he felt no regret, for the man who
had, in a fair fight and with good reason, shot him down, he felt full
sympathy. "Tried to burn Queen Bess!" he cried. "Joe, the jury'll clear
you without leaving their seats! Come, my boy--the sheriff's here, and
you will have to go with him; but don't you worry. I'll see you
through."
Joe stood, thinking, with bowed head and frowning brow. Suddenly he
looked up and cast his eyes about upon the company. "Before I goes, I
wants to say a word to Madge," said he, and turned to her with an
impressive earnestness. "Little one, don't you never fret about me, no
more." He took her hand and she gave it to him gladly. "I see, now, as
you was never made for me." He took a step toward Frank and led her to
him. "I see whar your heart is, an' I puts your hand in his." With bowed
head he relinquished the brown hand of the mountain-girl whom he had
loved since childhood, to the outstretched hand of the young
"foreigner," whom he no longer looked at with the hatred which had so
long thrilled his heart. "And--now I says good-bye. God bless you both!"
He went out, slowly, with the Colonel.
"Madge, he's right," said Frank, "this little hand is mine."
He would have clasped her in his arms, but, finally, she held him off.
"No, no," said she, "not till you know my secret. It was I who rode
Queen Bess,"
"You rode Queen Bess!"
The Colonel was re-entering the room. "But the world will never know
it," he said gallantly, "on the honor of a Kentuckian."
Frank's smile was radiant. "If it did, I should say: 'Here, Madge, in my
arms, is your shelter from the world.'" He drew her to him gently.
"Madge, my little wife!"