LUCK RIDES THE STORM
Beneath the shadow of the coming storm the forest gloom deepened to
velvet blackness. Suddenly a tongue of lightning licked the
tree-tops and a crash of thunder shattered the stillness. A few
heavy rain-drops spattered on the branches above the heads of the
waiting three. Billy and Maurice, a strange terror tugging at their
heart-strings, waited for old Harry to give the word forward. But
Harry seemed to be in no great hurry to voice such command. Fear had
gripped his superstitious soul and the courage loaned him from the
squat demijohn was fast oozing away.
Above, the blue-white lightning zig-zagged and the boom of the
thunder shook the earth. A huge elm shivered and shrieked as if in
agony as a darting tongue of flame enwrapped it like a yellow
serpent, splitting its heart in twain.
Billy found himself, face down, on the wet moss. Maurice was tugging
at his arm. The stricken tree had burst into flame, beneath the
ghostly light of which path, creek and pine-grove stood out
clear-limned as a cameo against a velvet background. Billy noted
this as he sat dazedly up. He and Maurice were alone; old Harry had
vanished.
"He's gone," Maurice answered his chum's look. "Took to his heels
when the lightnin' struck that elm. The shock knocked us both down.
He was gone when I come to."
Billy grinned a wan grin and pressed his knuckles against his aching
eyes. "So's my milk-snake," he said. "Guess I spilled him out o' my
pocket when I fell. Gee! that was a close call. Say, Maurice, ain't
it queer though? I was feelin' mighty scared an' trembly afore that
bolt fell, but now I feel nervy enough to tackle any ghost. How
'bout you?"
"By gosh! that's jest how I feel, Bill. That lightnin' knocked all
the scare plumb out o' me. I don't like these no-rain sort of
thunderstorms though," he added. "They're always slashin' out when
they're least expected."
"Well, the lightnin' part of this un's about past us, Maurice. But
the rain's comin'. Guess that ol' elm's done fer. She's dead,
though, else she wouldn't burn like that. By hokey!" he broke off,
"will you look here?"
He picked up something that glittered in the firelight, and held it
up for his chum's inspection.
"Old Harry's fairy arrer," gasped Maurice. "Oh say, Bill, ain't that
lucky? He must have lost it in his scramble to get away."
"Likely. Now I move we go right over into that ha'nted grove. What
you say?"
Maurice swallowed hard, "I'm blame fool enough fer anythin' since I
got knocked silly by that bolt," he answered, "so I'm game if you
are."
"Watch out!" warned Billy, grasping him by the arm and jerking him to
one side, "that struck elm is goin' to fall." A rainbow of flame
flashed close before the boys, as the stricken tree crashed across
the path, hurling forth a shower of sparks as it came to earth. Then
inky darkness followed and from the black canopy which a moment ago
had seemed to touch the tree tops the rain fell in torrents.
"Bill, Oh Bill! where 'bouts are you?" Maurice's voice sounded
muffled and far away to his chum's ears.
"I'm right here," he answered.
"Gollies! but ain't it dark? I can't see anythin' of you, Bill."
"Ner me, either. I guess we'll have to give up the hunt fer t'night,
Maurice. Anyways, we don't know jest how to work ol' Harry's fairy
arrer."
"No, we'll have to find out. Say, Bill, where 'bouts is the path?"
"Gee! how am I to know; it's right here somewheres, though."
"I guess I've found it, Bill. Come over close, so's I kin touch you,
then we'll be movin' 'long. Hully gee! but I'm wet. Got both them
charms safe?"
"Right here in my two fists, Maurice."
"Well, hang to 'em tight till we get away from this ha'nted grove.
Ghosts don't mind rain none--an' he's liable t' be prowlin' out.
Say, can't y' whistle a bit, so's it won't be so pesky lonesome?"
Billy puckered up his lips, but his effort was a failure. "You try,
Maurice," he said, "I can't jest keep the hole in my mouth steady
long enough t' whistle."
"Gosh! ain't I been trying," groaned Maurice. "My teeth won't keep
still a'tall. Maybe I won't be one glad kid when we get out 'a here."
For half an hour they groped their way forward, no further words
passing between them. The heavy roar of the rain on the tree tops
made conversation next to impossible. The darkness was so dense they
were forced to proceed slowly and pause for breath after bumping
violently against a tree or sapling. They had been striving for what
seemed to both to be a long, long time to find the clearing when
Billy paused in his tracks and spoke: "It's no use, Maurice. We're
lost."
Maurice sank weakly down against a tree trunk, and groaned.
"I guess we've struck into the big woods," Billy informed him.
"Anyways, the trees are gettin' thicker the further we go."
"Gee! Bill, there might be wolves an' bears in this woods," said
Maurice, fearfully.
"Sure there might but I guess all we kin do is take our chance with
'em."
"Well, I'd rather take a chance with a bear than a ghost, wouldn't
you Bill?"
"Betcha, I would. Say Maurice," he broke out excitedly, "there's a
light comin' through the trees. See it? It's movin'. Must be
somebody with a lantern."
"I see it," Maurice replied in guarded tones. "Bill, that light's
comin' this way, sure as shootin'."
"Looks like it. Wonder who it kin be? Maybe somebody lookin' fer
us."
The two boys crouched down beside a great beech. The light, which
had not been a great distance from them when first sighted, was
rapidly approaching. Billy grasped his chum's arm. "Look," he
whispered, "there's two of 'em."
"I see 'em," his friend whispered back. "Gosh! looks as though
they're goin' to tramp right onto us."
However, the night-roamers of the forest did not walk into them.
Instead they came very close to the boys and halted. The man who
carried the lantern set it down on the ground and spoke in gruff
tobes to his companion, a short, heavy-set man with a fringe of black
beard on his face.
"I tell you, Jack, we'll hide the stuff there. It'll be safe as a
church."
"I say no, Tom," the other returned, surlily. "It won't be safe
there. Somebody'll be sure to find it."
The other man turned on him angrily. "Who'll find it?" he retorted.
"Don't be a fool, Jack. You couldn't pull anybody to that place with
a loggin' chain. It's the safest spot in the world to hide the
stuff, I tell ye. Besides, the boat orter be in in a few days, and
we kin slip the stuff to Cap. Jacques without the boss ever knowin'
how far we've exceeded his orders."
"All right," gruffly assented his companion, "if you're so cock sure,
it suits me all right. Come on; let's get out of this cussed woods.
Remember we've got some work before us tonight."
The man named Tom picked up the lantern and moved on, cursing the
rain and the saplings that whipped his face at every step. His pal
followed without a word.
The boys waited until the lantern's glow grew hazy through the
slackening rain, then they sprang up and followed. Three-quarters of
an hour later the trees began to thin. Unwittingly the strangers had
guided them into the clearing.
As they reached the open the rain ceased altogether. High above a
few pale stars were beginning to probe through the tattered clouds.
The men with the lantern were rapidly moving across the stumpy
fallow, towards the causeway.
"Will we foller 'em, Bill?" asked Maurice eagerly.
Billy shook his head. "I'd sort o' like to," he said, slowly, "jest
to find out what game they're up to, but I guess if we know what's
good fer us we'll go home an' take off these wet duds. Hard lookin'
customers, wasn't they?"
"Hard, I should say so! I'll bet either one of 'em 'ud murder a hull
family fer ten cents. Say, Bill, maybe they're pirates; you heard
what they said about a boat, didn't you?"
"Yep, I heard, but they ain't pirates, 'cause they didn't have no
tattoo marks on 'em, er rings in their ears; but whoever they are
they're up to no good. They're aimin' to hide somethin' somewheres,
but jest what it is an' where they intend hidin' it there's no way of
tellin'; so come on, let's get movin'."
In silence they made their way across the clearing to the road.
"Say, Bill," said Maurice, as they paused to rest on the top rail of
the fence, "do you 'spose we best tell our dads about seein' them
men?"
"Naw, can't you see if we told our dads that, they'd want 'a know
what you an' me was doin' out in Scroggie's bush in the rain, at that
hour of the night? No siree, we won't say a word 'bout it."
"Then s'posin' we try an' find out something 'bout 'em fer ourselves,
eh?"
"Say, you give me a pain," cried Billy. "Don't you 'spose we've got
all we kin do ahead of us now?"
"Findin' Scroggie's money an' will, you mean?"
"Sure. Now shut up an' let's get home. I expect Ma'll be waitin' up
to give me hail Columbia, an' I guess you won't be gettin' any
pettin' from yourn, either."
"I know what I'll be gettin' from mine, all right," said Maurice,
moodily. "Say, Bill," he coaxed, "you come along over by our place
an' smooth things over fer me, will you? You kin do anythin' with
Ma."
"No," said Billy, "I got to be movin' on."
"But I'll get an awful hidin' if you don't. I don't mind an ordinary
tannin' but a tannin' in these wet pants is goin' to hurt like fury.
They're stickin close to my legs. I might as well be naked an' Ma
she certainly does lay it on."
Billy laughed. "All right, I'll come along, but I ain't believin'
anythin' I kin say to your Ma'll keep you from gettin' it."
The boys slid from the fence, then leaped back as something long and
white rose from behind a fallen tree and, with a startled snort,
confronted them.
"Gollies!" ejaculated Billy. "It's a hog. I thought, first off, it
was a bear."
Maurice peered out from behind a tree. "Well, I'll be jiggered!" he
exclaimed. "It's our old sow. She's been lost fer nigh onto two
weeks, an' Dad's been huntin' fer her everywhere."
"That so? Then we'll drive her home."
"Aw, say, Bill," protested Maurice, "I'm tired an' wet as a
water-logged plank. Let her go. I'll tell Dad, an' he kin come
after her tomorrow."
"No, we'll drive her home now. I guess I know what's best. Get on
t'other side of her. Now then, don't let her turn back!"
Maurice grumblingly did his share of the driving. It was no easy
task to pilot that big, rangy sow into the safe harbor of the Keeler
barnyard but done it was at last.
"Ma's got the light burnin' an' the strap waitin' fer her little
boy," chaffed Billy as they put up the barn-yard bars.
Maurice, who had climbed the fence so as to get a glimpse of the
interior of his home through a window, whistled softly as his eyes
took in the scene within.
"Say, Billy," he cried, "your Ma an' Pa's there."
"Gee whitticker!" exclaimed Billy. "I wish now I hadn't promised you
I'd come in. All right, lead on. Let's get the funeral over with."
Without so much as another word the boys went up the path.
"If I don't see you ag'in alive, Bill, good bye," whispered Maurice
as he opened the door.
Mrs. Keeler, who was doing her best to catch what her neighbor was
saying, lifted her head as the two wet and tired boys entered the
room.
"There they be now," she said grimly. "The two worst boys in Scotia,
Mrs. Wilson."
"I believe you, Mrs. Keeler," nodded her friend. "Now then, where
have you two drowned rats been tonight, Willium?"
Cobin Keeler, who was playing a game of checkers with Billy's father,
cleared his throat and leaned forward like a judge on the bench,
waiting for the answer to his neighbor's question.
"We got----" commenced Maurice, but Billy pinched his leg for silence.
"I got track of your lost sow, Mr. Keeler, when I was comin' home
from the store tonight," he said. "Least-wise I didn't know it was
your sow but Maurice told me about yours bein' lost. So after Mrs.
Keeler went to give Mr. Spencer a call down we hired Anse to look
after the preservin' an' went out to try an' track her down."
Maurice, who had listened open mouthed to his chum's narration,
sighed deeply. "We had an awful time," he put in, only to receive a
harder pinch for his pains.
"But you didn't see her, did ye?" Cobin asked eagerly.
Disregarding the question, Billy continued: "The tracks led us a long
ways, I kin tell you. We got up into the Scroggie bush at last an'
then the rain come."
"But we kept right on trackin--" put in Maurice, eagerly. "After the
stars come out again, of course," explained Billy, managing to skin
Maurice's shin with his boot-heel, "an' we found her--"
"You found her?" cried Cobin, leaping up.
"Jest half an hour ago," said Billy.
"Good lads!" cried Cobin heartily, "Ma, hear that? They found ol'
Junefly. Wasn't that smart of 'em, an' in all that rain, too."
"Who'd you say was agoin' to soon die?" Mrs. Keeler put her hand to
her ear and leaned forward.
"I say the boys found the old sow, Ma!" Cobin shouted.
"They _did_?" Mrs. Keeler turned towards Billy and Maurice, her face
aglow. "An' was that what they was adoin'? Now I'm right sorry I
spoke harsh. I am so. Ain't you, Mrs. Wilson?"
"Oh, I must say that Willium does do somethin' worth while, once in a
long while," returned her neighbor, grudgingly. "But Anson, now--"
Mrs. Keeler broke in. "Anson, humph! Why, that boy had the nerve to
say that I should give him ten cents fer watchin' the kettle while
them two dear boys was out in the storm, huntin' fer Pa's sow. I
give him a box on the ear instead an' sent him home on the jump.
Maybe I was a bit hasty but I was mad after havin' to give that old
Caleb Spencer a piece of my mind fer sendin' me sawdust instead of
groceries. I guess he won't try that ag'in."
Billy moved towards the door. "I'd best be gettin' home," he said,
"I'm awful wet."
"Stay all night with Maurice," invited Mrs. Keeler. "You an' him kin
pile right into bed now and I'll bring you both a bowl of hot bread
and milk."
Billy glanced at his mother.
"You kin stay if your want to, Willium," she said, "only see that you
are home bright and early in the mornin'. Your Pa'll want you to
help hill potaters."
She stood up. "Well, Tom, if you and Cobin are through with the game
don't start another. It's late an' time all decent folks was home
abed."
Snug in Maurice's corn-husk bed in the attic, the boys lay and
listened for the door to open and close. Then Maurice chuckled.
"Gee! Bill, I could'a knocked your head off fer makin' me help drive
ol' Junefly home but now I see you knowed what you was doin'. Holy
smoke! I wish't I was as smart as you."
"Go to sleep," said Billy drowsily.
Half an hour later when Mrs. Keeler carrying two bowls of steaming
bread and milk ascended the stairs Billy alone sat up to reach for it.
"Is Maurice asleep?" whispered the woman.
Billy nodded.
"Well, you might as well have both bowls then. I don't like to see
good bread an' milk wasted."
She set the bowls down on the little table beside the bed, placed the
lamp beside them, then leaning over tucked the blankets about the
boys.
"No use tryin' to wake Maurice," she said as she turned to go. "As
well try to wake the dead. Remember, you boys get up when I call
you."