A TRIP TO THE CABIN.
It was exactly a quarter of seven o’clock that night and Renfro with
his paper bag almost empty had just turned the corner into South
Washington Street when he ran plump--into Mary Dugan. She was puffing
as one who had been undergoing great exertion.
“Hello, Hooch!” she managed a casual greeting and then burst straight
into a monologue on the difficulties of her journey. She had hired her
sister to come over to the Horn house to serve the dinner, and the
sister had been late. Mary had boarded the wrong car and had had to
transfer on her way out and--
“But Mary,” Renfro exclaimed, “You’re too early! Something broke down
with the press, we got our papers late. I haven’t got a single new
subscriber and I have two more blocks to deliver.”
“On both sides of the street?” Mary’s question was direct.
“Sure!” Renfro was impatient.
“Then gimme me half of them,” Mary held out her hands on which were
gray cotton gloves and which looked like veritable apparitions in the
darkness. “Now don’t say I won’t know where to leave ’em. I know I
won’t. But we kin work skilful--can’t we? I’ll start right across the
street from you and you whistle at every house where I’m to stop.”
“Some girl, Mary Dugan,” Renfro began to count out papers into her
hands, “Now where did you learn--”
“Hooch Horn,” Mary interrupted him almost dropping her papers in her
eagerness to explain. “You aint learned yet half the clues I learned in
that detective course.”
The papers tumbled again, and would have fallen had not Hooch caught
them. “It’s them gloves,” Mary was quick to realize the impediments the
bulky cotton gloves were in the paper carrying art. Her right one came
off with a dash and was thrust into her coat pocket.
“Now gimme the part of the street you know best,” she commanded. “Your
whistler will be saved some that way.”
A wave of Renfro’s hand and Mary darted across the street. Without any
sign, or any communication except the keen whistles from Renfro, they
finished the two blocks in record breaking time. And then they met at
the end of the block.
“But I haven’t got any new subscribers, Mary,” Renfro hesitated, “I
made my daily quota out several days ago and I can’t break it, you
know.”
“And I made my rule agin’ bein’ late at choir practice several years
ago,” Mary’s alto voice was very dry, “but I’m thinkin’ this here
business is worth breakin’ anything. This here affair of our goin’ down
there tonight means either you miss your subscribers or I miss my choir
practice and--”
“Mary,” Hooch’s hand went on her arm. “Since you are so good a sport, I
can make up my subscribers Saturday and Monday.”
“You ought to be gettin’ them other subscribers from our own part of
town, Hooch,” Mary offered advice, “They’d be easier landed and--”
“But it doesn’t seem fair to get into some other fellow’s territory,”
Hooch began. “Now--”
Mary interrupted him in a determined voice. “Foolishness! Them
circulars you had at home said for you to go anywhere. If you had a
good route them other boys would be a comin’ to it mighty fast. And if
you have any business sense like the Horns all have, you’ll follow my
plan.”
“All right,” Renfro was very meek. Experience had taught him that it
was folly to argue with Mary. “We go down this road, Mary, down the
middle. It’s as slick as glass and I expect we’d better hold on to each
other. We don’t want any broken arms.”
Mary clutched Renfro’s arm with her mittened hand. Together they
slipped, they slid, then fumbled, and nearly fell on their way toward
the lane which marked the turning off place for the big house, and the
little shack.
The sky was clear, there were few trees along the road, and there was a
half moon. So Mary and Hooch had no trouble finding the best place to
scale the log fence. Mary refused all offers of help. She had climbed
rail fences when she was a girl and knew the exact art with which such
a crossing was effected. Moreover she added with emphasis that she “was
not an old lady yet by any manner of means.”
Still she had not counted on the rails being coated with ice. And no
sooner was she at the top of the fence than she was at the bottom on
the other side. Fortunately it was on the opposite side of the fence
she had landed and when Renfro scrambled over and stood beside her she
was on her feet again.
She held herself with dignity and Renfro realizing that there are some
things which it would cause a calamity to discuss was silent. She was
the first one to speak. “You go to the shack and I’ll go to the big
house,” she was the general again though great had been her fall. “It
would be suspicious looking to Captain Pete for me, a single maiden
lady to come knockin’ at his door this time of night.”
“Yes,” Renfro’s voice was meek. Mary never suspected that he was
literally holding his sides to keep from bursting into gales of
laughter.
“And,” Mary was all dignity again. “I don’t want any man to be buildin’
up false hopes on me. It is not Mary Dugan who has yet brought ruin to
a man from raisin’ their expectations and she don’t begin now with an
old time soldier.”
“No, Mary,” Renfro managed another sober response.
Just then there was a crackling and half roaring sound over in the
shrubbery of the orchard. Just as Mary and Renfro stopped and clutched
at each other a dark form came out with a rush and threw itself against
Renfro’s legs.
Mary stumbled, almost fell and then ejaculated a word which she had not
used since she had become a choir singer, but Renfro patted the big dog
and soothed him. “Lang Tammy, Lang Tammy,” he crooned, and then he felt
a broken strap on the dog’s neck, “they’ve had you tied up tonight and
you wanted to see me--didn’t you?”
“Whose dog is he?” Mary demanded with asperity, thinking that Renfro
had kept something from her.
But Renfro reminded her of the dog which had been with the old man whom
he suspected of being Captain Pete’s brother, and who he was sure knew
a great deal about the affair. “Yes, I remember,” Mary was the general
once again. “You’d better get rid of him if you can. Havin’ him with us
would be suspicious.”
Lang Tammy was tugging at Renfro’s bag. For a few seconds Renfro played
with him, and while he did Mary fumbled in her pocket. She dropped
something on the ice. “Some of my peppermints,” she explained. “My
Brother Sam--he allus says if you wants to be friends with a dog just
give him some candy.”
And then Renfro uttered a short, sharp command and Lang Tammy was back
in the orchard again. Renfro was aware that the big dog would not show
up again that night. The afternoon’s tying had offended him. And he
would stay away from the big house to get even with his master.
He watched the dark form in the orchard while they went up the lane,
and he took the opposite direction from the one in which the big house
lay. A few more rods of slipping and sliding and he and Mary arrived at
their place of parting. He gave her some instructions about making her
way around the big house.
“The main thing, Mary dear,” Renfro was solicitous again, “the main
thing is not to fall, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” there was a touch of humor in Mary’s voice, “Me father
used to say that I had the most trouble in keepin’ my head but tonight
it’s a case of whin me worst trouble is keepin’ me feet I’m thinkin’.”
And then they separated.
Renfro found Captain Pete’s door. The old man unbarred it, held high
his little old lamp with the blackened chimney, identified his visitor
and gruffly commanded him to come in. The rabbits were ready, but for
the life of him he couldn’t see any use of Renfro’s coming so late.
When he was young parents didn’t allow their sons to be out so late,
and--
“But I had to carry my paper route,” Renfro spoke pleasantly, and the
captain thawed to an extent.
When he went to wrap the rabbits in an old newspaper he muttered
something about being short on paper and Renfro brought his two extra
papers out of his bag. “Seeing you won’t be a regular customer without
being shown the advantage of a newspaper, Captain Pete,” Renfro smiled
a winning smile, “I’m going to sample you for a while as the boys say.
Every night I have an extra paper I’ll bring it down to you and soon
I’ll warrant you’ll be a regular customer. I always carry an extra so
that if I get a new customer, I can leave the paper right then.”
Pete shook his head. He muttered something about it being too far for
a boy to come alone. All of which only made Renfro more determined to
visit him. As he had declared the night before the actions of Captain
Pete were evident that though innocent himself perhaps, he was not
ignorant altogether about the kidnaping of Helen Wier.
Outside of the shack Renfro circled around to avoid suspicion, should
Captain Pete happen to open the door again, and worked his way back to
the meeting place he and Mary had appointed. He waited, he counted the
minutes, he fumed, he fretted and still no Mary arrived. He pulled out
his watch with its radio face and saw that it was a quarter after eight
o’clock.
“Mary won’t get to sing alto tonight,” he murmured to himself. “We’ll
get back to town just about the time it’s over.”
And then Mary came. She clutched at his arm. “I can’t be stoppin’ to
talk,” she was hurrying him toward the fence. “I’ve promised the leader
I’d get there in time to practice the Sunday anthem and I will keep me
promise too. You can go with me on the car, Hooch.”
“And say,” they were at the fence again, “I’ve got a few clues of my
own. And,” Mary put her foot on the first rail, “You help me all you
can. That falling down sort of affected my constitution, Hooch.”