ON SEPARATE ROADS.
About four o’clock in the afternoon, Susan went up to the door of the
loft and unlocked it.
Emile was sitting at the top of the flight of steps that led to the
roof, and immediately ran down towards her. Before he could say a word
she called out to him,--
“You can come down now. Phœnix Poole, the boy who thrashed you the
other day, is coming, and he will be in the house in a minute. You can
talk to him till Mr. Philip comes back.”
Emile rushed past her without a word. He dashed down-stairs, along the
hall, and out of the front door. His horse, which had been fed and
watered by Susan and Jenny, was still standing by the post where he had
hitched him.
Quickly untying him, Emile jumped into the buggy and drove away. The
horse, who for a long time had been impatient to go, trotted gayly,
and Emile, who was much more impatient than the horse, whipped him up
to make him trot still faster.
When Phil and Chap left the cabin of the negro woman, who had seen a
man walking northward along the road which passed her house, they rode
for some time before they heard of the man again. Then they met a boy
in a wagon, who said he had seen such a man, but he was walking in the
field, and he had not taken much notice of him.
There were few houses near the road, but before very long they came to
one where a woman was washing clothes in a side-yard. She said she had
seen a man pass by, but she wasn’t certain whether he had a bundle or
not, and could not just then remember whether it was this morning or
yesterday morning that she saw him. She had been washing both mornings,
and it might have been the day before that he passed.
There was little encouragement in this, but still the boys pushed on,
fully convinced that if they found Mr. Berkeley at all, it would be
by using their own eyes, and not those of other people. There was a
probability that he had passed along this road, and on this they must
act.
A little before noon they stopped in a shady place and ate their
luncheon, while their horses made a meal from the grass at the side of
the road. Starting again, after the animals had had a sufficient rest,
they soon reached a place where the road forked.
Phil knew this part of the country pretty well, having ridden over
it with his uncle, and he explained to Chap that the roads, which
separated here to go around an extensive piece of woodland, came
together again a few miles above. On each branch-road there were
several houses where inquiry should be made. He therefore proposed
that Chap should take the left-hand road, while he took the one to
the right, and whoever reached first the point where the roads joined
should wait for the other. This was agreed to, and each boy set out on
his separate way.
Chap made several inquiries, without result, and after a time he came
to a barn and farm-yard by the roadside. He stopped, and was just about
to call out to a boy in the barn, when he suddenly opened his eyes and
mouth in amazement.
On a log at the other end of the barn-yard sat the man with the black
straw hat. He was talking to a man who was mending a horse-rake.
Chap jumped from Kit’s back, tied him to the fence, and ran into the
barn-yard.
“Hello!” he cried. “Who on earth would have expected to see you here?”
Mr. Alexander Muller, of 340 Sixth Avenue, New York, turned round
quickly on hearing Chap’s voice.
“Well!” he exclaimed, rising from the log; “I certainly did not expect
to see you, either. Did you come to meet me?”
“I didn’t know you were on the road,” said Chap.
“I expected to see you to-morrow,” said the other, “but came here first
to attend to some business. By the way, why did you write me such an
astounding note--and on a postal-card, too?”
“Why, you gave me the card,” Chap said.
“Yes; but I did not expect anything so exceedingly confidential and
startling to be written on it. It came to my boarding-house while I was
away, and was put upon the dining-room mantel-piece. I am sure every
boarder in the house read it, and I feel that I have since been looked
upon as head conspirator in some terrible plot. What on earth did you
mean by it? I could not suppose it was anything important, but I really
had the curiosity, as I was coming to this part of the country anyway,
to go to you and see what it was.”
The man who had been mending the horse-rake having gone into the barn,
Chap and Mr. Alexander Muller seated themselves on the log, and the
former told the whole story of the trouble about the mortgage, and of
Mr. Berkeley’s note, and of the present search after him.
“These things are no secret,” said Chap; “and, as I know you want to
find Mr. Godfrey, perhaps you will help us. And if you can’t do that
you may be of good in some other ways. For money must be raised, if
Mr. Berkeley isn’t found soon, and if you tell what you know about the
treasure on the sunken ship, perhaps some one will advance some funds.”
Mr. Muller smiled, and then he said,--
“I wish very much to see Mr. Berkeley, but, from what you tell me,
there must be other people who wish to see him even more than I do. I
imagine it will be of no use for me to go over to his place just now.”
“It might be of a great deal of use,” said Chap, “especially if you
would see the lawyers and Mr. Welford, and tell them a part, at least,
of what you know.”
Mr. Muller laughed and shook his head.
“I shan’t open my business before any of those people,” he said. “You
will understand when all is revealed. But I expect to be in this part
of the country for some time, and if I get on Mr. Berkeley’s track I’ll
help to find him.”
“That would be capital,” cried Chap. “You must be good at that sort of
thing.”
“Oh, splendid!” said Mr. Muller.
“And if you should find him,” said Chap, “don’t forget to tell him all
about the mortgage affair; and let him know that if he doesn’t hurry
home he might as well stay away altogether, for everything he has will
be sold. And now I must get on. I’ve been here too long.”
Bidding Mr. Muller a hasty good-by, Chap mounted Kit and rode rapidly
away. A short distance above this barn-yard the road turned to the
right towards the main road, which it joined about half a mile away;
but it also branched just here a little to the left, and Chap, who was
riding very fast, and whose mind was full of the interview with the
man with the black straw hat, did not notice the right-hand turn, but
kept on the branch-road to the left, which led down into a wide valley
and joined the main road at last three miles farther on. Chap made no
more stops for information, and when, after a hard gallop, he reached
the junction with the main road, he thought it was the point at which
he had agreed to meet Phil, although it was in reality several miles
beyond.
Phil, on his road, heard nothing of any solitary traveller, and he
became convinced that unless Chap had found some clue, the sooner they
retraced their steps and tried some other track the better.
He kept on, however, to the point of meeting, and was not surprised at
not seeing Chap, for he expected to have to wait for him, as his friend
was a great fellow for having long discourses with people.
The road here was bordered on both sides by thick woods, and there was
not a house in sight. Phil had learned from his uncle how to hobble a
horse, which he now proceeded to do, and allowed Jouncer to graze on
the plentiful grass by the roadside.
Then he thought he would try and get a shot at something with Old
Bruden. He was sure the gun was loaded, although he had forgotten
that fact when he started with it in the morning, and it would be a
good thing to get the loads out of it, which might as well be done by
shooting something as in any other way.
Perhaps he could get a crack at some big bird in these woods. He tried
both barrels with the ramrod, and found they each contained a very
heavy load. He had forgotten who last loaded the gun, but supposed it
was some of Chap’s work, who believed in plenty of powder and shot.
He then put on a couple of caps and strolled about for some little
time, but found nothing to shoot at. Returning to the junction, he
leaned the gun against a tree and gazed down the other road, hoping to
see Chap coming. Then, as he walked about, whistling, his attention was
attracted by an apple hanging on a tree near the road.
Years before, there had been a house in the little clearing here, and
there were a few old apple-trees still growing about the spot.
Phil could not find anything to throw at this apple, which looked as if
it was ripe enough for a boy, but it was not far above him, and might
be hooked down. He thought of the ramrod of the gun, and getting it,
soon jerked the apple from its twig.
It was not a very good apple, but Phil ate it with relish, and thought
he would very much like to have another. There was no more fruit on
that tree, and so, ramrod in hand, he went rambling about looking for
another tree and another apple.
When Emile Touron left Hyson Hall, there was a good deal remaining of
the long summer afternoon, and as he knew he would have to pay for the
horse for the whole day, he determined to get all the good out of him
that he could. Besides, he felt too angry to go back to his lodgings.
He would rather be alone and have a horse to shout at and cut with a
whip. As for eating, he had forgotten all about it.
Instead, therefore, of turning into town, he drove along the road
which led to the north, and which Phil and Chap had taken that morning.
He drove rapidly, and did not intend to return to town until he had had
a good day’s use of the horse.
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