EBEN ATTENDS TO GRIMSBY
During the conversation Eben bad been a silent listener. But his mind
was very busy, and he was doing some serious thinking. Randall
appealed to him. He knew that he was a prominent business man, and he
liked the brusque way he talked. When, however, he learned that the
Hamptons had carried off Jess, his heart filled with anger and
jealousy. He truly surmised where they had gone, for he knew how fond
John was of the cabin in the wilderness, and it would be the most
likely place where he would take the girl for safe keeping. He thought
of his encounter with the two down on the shore, and his eyes glowed
with a fierce light. He was no match for John in an open fight, he was
well aware, so he must use other means.
As he listened to Randall, and watched his every movement, the idea
flashed into his mind that this was the man to deal with John Hampton.
He longed to see the two together, and, unobserved, watch the
encounter. What fun it would be, and how great the satisfaction to
witness the defeat of his rival! That they would fight if they met, he
had not the slightest doubt, for to his mode of thinking that was the
only way to settle such a dispute.
When Randall at length left the house, Eben slipped quietly and quickly
out after him. He was by the side of the car just as the owner was
taking his seat and giving orders to the chauffeur. Randall saw the
dim figure loom up by his side, and demanded who he was and what he
wanted.
"It's only me," Eben explained.
"And who's me?" was the curt query.
"Eben, the captain's son."
"Well, what do you want?"
"I want a drive down the road. Will ye take me?"
"No, I can't. I'm in a hurry. Get away from the car. I don't want to
be bothered with anyone."
He spoke to the chauffeur, and at once the engine began to hum. But
Eben was not to be thus defeated. He jumped upon the running board,
and thrust his head into the car, almost into Randall's face.
"Ye'll take me if I tell ye where yer daughter is, won't ye?" he roared.
"Do you know?" Randall shouted.
"Y'bet I do."
"All right, then, get in," and Randall pushed open the door.
In a twinkling Eben was by his side, the door was slammed to, and the
car was purring on its way.
"Well, where is my daughter?" Randall asked.
"I believe she's on Island Lake. D'ye know where that is?"
"No, I don't. Where in the devil is it?"
"Back in the hills. The Hamptons have a cabin there on an island.
Their coal mine is on the shore on the other side."
"Oh, I know. I've fished in that lake, though I haven't been there for
several years. What makes you think my daughter's there, boy?"
"Guess it's about the only place John 'ud take her. He's mighty fond
of that cabin, an' would live there all the time if he could. Most
likely Mrs. Hampton's gone along, too."
Randall made no reply, but sat lost in thought. Eben enjoyed the
drive. It was no nice to roll smoothly along in the big, luxurious
car. He nestled back in the easy seat, and gave himself up to the
enjoyment of the moment. Some day he would have a car of his own just
like this, with a chauffeur to look after it.
"You must be happy, Mister," he at length remarked.
"Happy!" Randall roused from his reverie with a start, and
straightened himself up with a jerk. "What makes you think I'm happy?"
"'Cause you've plenty of money, an' own a car like this."
Randall laughed outright, although there was no mirth in his laughter.
"And so you think money makes a man happy, eh?'"
"It should. Why, ye kin buy what ye like."
"Look here, boy," and Randall's voice became more gentle than Eben had
ever heard it. "Money won't buy happiness. It will provide one with
many things, I acknowledge. But it won't buy the great things of life,
and that is where it fails a man in his time of need. Do you think I
am happy?"
"No, I guess yer not, sir, from what I've seen of ye."
"You're right, boy, you're right. I'm not happy, and I have money.
But, there, why am I talking this way to you?"
"Mebbe, I know," Eben replied. "Yer thinkin' of yer daughter, an' what
she's done. Isn't that it?"
"It is. How can a man be happy when his only daughter has run away
from home?"
"An' why did she run away, sir?"
"Why? Why?" Randall paused, and stared straight before him.
There was no more time to continue the conversation, for they were now
almost at Grimsby's house whither Eben was bound. He asked the driver
to pull up and let him out. The car soon stopped in front of the
place, and Eben opened the door and stepped out.
"Thank ye, sir, fer the drive," he said.
"Oh, that's all right," Randall replied. "And you feel quite sure that
my daughter is on Island Lake?"
"I wouldn't be a bit surprised. Where else would John take her?"
"It is reasonable and worth looking into, anyway. And say, there's a
boat out there, isn't there?"
"Yes, John has a good one."
"But suppose it's on the island if I should want it?"
"Oh, jist holler, an' if he doesn't know who ye are, he'll row over fer
you. But most likely John will come back in the mornin', so he'll have
to bring the boat over. Ye see, he'll have to go home to look after
the stock. If ye happen to be around the lake when he's home, most
likely ye'll be able to git the boat."
"A good idea," Randall replied. He then spoke to the chauffeur, and in
another instant the car was away.
Eben stood for a few minutes staring through the darkness down the road.
"I wonder if he'll go to Island Lake?" he mused. "If he does, Gabe
needn't go, an' so he won't want me. I'd rather be hidin' around in
the bushes to see the fun. I'd like to see John an' Randall in a
stand-up fight, I surely would. But mebbe it'd be better fer John to
go back to the island an' not find his sweetheart. Say, it 'ud be
great to watch him ramp an' tear around."
A cry of pain and fright from the house nearby startled him. Wheeling
sharply around, he saw that the front door was open and the form of a
woman was falling down the rickety steps. Surprised beyond measure,
Eben hurried forward until he reached the prostrate woman. She was
moaning and sobbing bitterly, and making no effort to rise.
"What's the matter?" Eben asked, bending over her. "Are ye hurt?"
"Yes, yes," the woman wailed. "He hit me, and kicked me out of the
house."
"Who did?" Eben straightened himself up, while his hands clenched hard.
"Who hit ye?"
"Gabe, of course. But don't go in; he might kill you. He's in a
terrible rage."
With a bound Eben was through the door and into the house. The room
was a sight to behold. Chairs and tables were upset, broken dishes
were lying on the floor, and several frightened, half-dressed children
were huddled in one corner. In the middle of the room stood the master
of the house, his moon-like face red with anger. He retreated a few
steps as Eben appeared.
"Did you do that?" the latter demanded, shaking his right fist
menacingly before Grimsby.
"Yes I did," was the surly reply. "And it's none of your d----
business what I do in my own house. Get out of this."
Eben's only reply was to seize Gabe by his coat collar, and yank him
suddenly forward. Then he shook him as a dog would shake a rat, while
Grimsby filled the house with his howls of distress. He was a
veritable coward at heart, and in Eben's hands he was as helpless as a
child.
"Ye'll kill me, ye'll kill me!" he wailed. "Fer God's sake, let up."
"I want to kill ye," his captor roared. "Yer not worth livin'. Take
that, an' that, an' that."
Eben had lost complete control of himself now. The fury of his passion
was let loose, and he shook and thumped his victim unmercifully.
Grimsby's fear increased to terror, and he made frantic efforts to free
himself. He even fought and bit, but all in vain. Eben held him firm,
and at last pinning him with his body upon the floor he began to deal
blow after blow upon the victim's face and head.
There is hardly the shadow of a doubt but that Eben would have killed
Gabe there and then, so intense was his rage. But at this critical
moment Mrs. Grimsby caught him by the arm and attempted to pull him
away from her husband.
"Don't kill him, don't kill him," she pleaded. "Be careful what you
are doing."
This appeal brought Eben somewhat to his senses, and his hands relaxed.
He hesitated for a few seconds, and then rose slowly to his feet.
"He ought to be killed," he growled. "He's a brute."
"I know, I know," the woman agreed. "But you mustn't do it. It would
be murder, and you would be hung."
A grim smile overspread Eben's face, as he stepped back, and folded his
arms.
"Well, then, s'pose you kill him," he suggested. "He tried to kill
you, so it's better fer you to do it first."
"No, no," the woman protested. "There must be no killing here. Get
up, Gabe," she ordered, touching her husband with her foot. "You must
be thoroughly ashamed of yourself by this time. Maybe this will knock
some sense into your head."
Very reluctantly the defeated man drew himself up to his knees, and
then staggered to his feet. His face was swollen where Eben's fists
had fallen, and his eyes were wild with fear. He edged away from his
antagonist, and kept as close as possible to his wife.
"Don't let him touch me again," he begged. "He's not a human being,
but the devil in the form of a man. I never saw anything like him."
"Don't be such a coward," his wife chided. "If you behave yourself he
won't hurt you."
"Indeed I won't," Eben agreed. "But look here, Gabe Grimsby, if ye
ever lay hands on yer wife agin, an' I hear of it, I'll come an' tear
ye to pieces. D'ye call yerself a man to hit a woman, an' her yer
wife?"
"But she provoked me," Gabe defended.
"What did she do?"
"She stole my money; that's what she did."
"You're a liar," his wife charged. "It wasn't your money, anyway. I
merely took it back to where it belongs."
"Ye did?" Gabe snarled. "So that's where ye were, eh? Why didn't ye
tell me that before?"
"I didn't have to, Gabe Grimsby. If you'd acted like a man when you
came home, I might have told you. But, no, when you got here and found
that I was away, instead of staying with the children you went off to
the store. Then when you did come home and found that supper was not
ready because I just got back, you began to act like a demon. If it
hadn't been for Eben here, I don't know what would have happened to me."
"An' he hit ye fer that?" Eben asked in surprise.
"Yes, for that, and because of the money."
"What money?"
"Hush-money; that's what it was. He dragged it out of Mrs. Hampton,
that's what he did, the villain. She paid him to keep silent."
The light of understanding dawned in Eben's eyes, and he even smiled.
"It had to do with the girl, eh?" he queried. "Mrs. Hampton paid Gabe
to say nuthin' about her, I s'pose. She wants to keep her hidden from
her dad. I came here in his car, and I tell ye he's mighty mad."
"Has he found her?" Grimsby asked, forgetting in his interest his
battered face.
"Naw, he hasn't found her. But he will, though, if you don't git a
hustle on. He knows where she is."
"He does! Where?"
"Oh, it's no use tellin' you. What can you do? You'll be in bed
to-morrow nursin' yer face."
"No, I won't. Just tell me where that girl is, an' I'll send word to
the city this very night."
"Why should I tell ye, Gabe? Ye don't deserve to be told after what ye
did to yer wife."
"I swear I'll never do such a thing again, Eben. I lost my head, an'
didn't realise what I was doing.
"H'm, I guess ye nearly lost yer head when I got hold of ye. If it
hadn't been fer yer wife here I'd had yer head off by this time. But
come along outside, an' we'll talk this matter over. Them kids ought
to be in bed," and he motioned to the weary children over in the
corner. "Good-bye, Mrs. Grimsby; jist send me word if Gabe hits ye
agin. I'll fix him fer sure next time. Come along, Gabe, I want to
have a talk with ye."