TOM BEGINS HIS WANDERINGS.
"Joe, I will give this valise and gun into your care, and will thank you
to see that they are restored to their owners. I know you will do this
much for me, for it is the last favor I shall ask of you."
"I took the articles in question as Tom handed them to me, and when I
raised my eyes to look at him, he was gone. He had jumped past me,
dashed out of the passage, and disappeared into the bushes before I
could say a word to him."
And that was the last that Joe Coleman ever saw of Tom Mason for long
years to come. He was friendless and alone--how very much alone he never
knew until by skilful dodging he managed to get on the outskirts of the
body of settlers that were closing up around Luke Redman and his gang,
and found himself beyond the reach of capture. His face was very pale,
but he went about his business as though he knew what he was doing. It
was very strange that a boy who had servants to wait on him at every
turn--one to saddle his horse, another to black his boots, and still
another to serve up his lunch when he got hungry--should have been
willing to set off on an expedition by himself, but it showed that he
knew nothing of the world before him.
Having satisfied himself by the sound of the horns and the baying of the
dogs that he was out of danger, Tom paused long enough to transfer his
roll of money from his trousers pocket to his boot-leg. He had about
fifty dollars that was all his own, and as he did not wish to lose it,
he put it where he thought it would be safe, then straightened up,
listened for a moment to a faint, far-off note that came to his ears,
drew his hands swiftly across his eyes, and made the best of his way
toward the Mississippi River.
"That is my hound, and I'll bet it will be a long time before I shall
hear him give tongue in that fashion again," soliloquized Tom, as he
emerged from the cane and took a survey of the prospect before him. "I
may never hear him, but I shall always remember him."
As Tom came out of the cane he found himself on the verge of that swamp
over which, one short week previous, the water had stood to the depth of
fifteen feet; but Our Fellows had already ridden over it, with Sandy
Todd for a leader,--the boy who admitted that he "might be slow
a-walkin' an' a-talkin', but was not slow a-ridin',"--in their wild
chase after the Indians and after Luke Redman, the man who had stolen
Black Bess, and had managed in some way, they could not tell how, to
secure possession of the valise which contained General Mason's five
thousand dollars. The ridges were high and dry, and by following them
one could enjoy a pleasant ride, avoiding the water altogether; but the
trouble in Tom's case was the ridges ended either in the swamp at Dead
Man's Elbow, the place where they afterward captured Luke Redman, or
veered around until they ended in the very spot Tom did not want to go,
the town of Burton, which was the only place in the county that could
boast of a jail. It was dangerous to attempt to pass from one ridge to
another, for the bottom was covered with a bed of mud in which a
horseman would sink out of sight. Tom speculated upon this as he walked
along, and although he was positive that no very desperate attempt would
be made to capture him when it was found out that he was the guilty one,
he would have felt safer if he had left all sights and sounds of his
first wrong-doing far behind. How his uncle would scorn him when first
he found it out! And the negroes! Why, it wouldn't be long till it would
be all over the State.
"This is what comes of a rash attempt to have revenge on a boy who never
did me a thought of harm. Because I couldn't be the leader among Our
Fellows I had to go to work and get myself into worse trouble by it. Why
couldn't I have rested easy when I had nothing to worry about? But I
mustn't allow my thoughts to get the start of me right at the beginning,
for if I do, I shall come out at the little end of the horn. I wish I
had an axe, for I would soon get across. I shall never find my way to
the Mississippi as long as I stay on this side the bayou."
While Tom was talking to himself in this way, he stood upon the bluffs,
which, by drawing near to one another, had gradually left the low lands
behind and brought the two banks of the stream within twenty feet--a
bad-looking place, for it went far to remind Tom of Dead Man's Elbow. It
was his only chance to cross the stream. While he stood there, looking
at the dark, muddy water that flowed between him and liberty, that is,
between him and the Mississippi, and trying hard to determine what his
chances were of passing the night in his wet clothes with no means of
starting a fire, his attention was attracted by the very sound he wanted
to hear. He listened, and when the blows began to fall in regular order,
as if the woodman was warming at his work, he left the bluffs behind him
and turned and went into the woods.
"That's an axe," thought Tom, "and as nobody but negroes can be chopping
out here, I'll go up and get a bite to eat; for, now that I think of it,
I'm hungry. I must be ten miles from my uncle's now, and of course no
one down here has heard of that grip-sack business. To-morrow morning I
will make him cut a tree across the bayou."
Guided by the sound of the woodman's axe, Tom felt his way through the
cane (for by this time it was so dark in there that feeling was the only
sense he could go by), and presently came within sight of the chopper.
He was a jolly, good-natured negro, who seemed a little startled on
discovering Tom's approach, but speedily recovered himself when the boy
addressed him by saying:
"Hallo, Snowball! What are you doing so far out of the world?"
"Sarvent, sar. Well, sar, you see all dis timber here? My moster is
needin' some rail timber mighty bad, so he sends me out here every
Monday and I stays here until Saturday. Say, boss, what you doin' out
here? Ise you los'?"
"You haven't seen a gray horse, with saddle and bridle on, going by
here, have you?" asked Tom in reply.
"No, sar, I aint. Did he threw you?"
"Nor any hounds giving tongue?"
"No, sar, I aint. Ise dey de ones you is lookin' for, boss?"
"They're gone, and the best thing I can do is to follow after them on
foot," said Tom, looking around for a handy log to sit down on; for, now
that his tramp for the day was ended and he had somebody to talk to, he
began to realize that he was tired. "I believe I'll camp with you
to-night."
"Sarvent, sar. Cert'n'y, sar. Whar might you uns come from?"
"I came from the country about General Mason's place. Have you got
anything to eat?"
"Oh, yes, sar. Plenty of it, sar," said the negro, sticking his axe into
the log he was chopping and leading the way off through the bushes. "Dis
way, sar. I's often heared of folks up your way. Somebody up that a-way
been a-stealin' five thousand dollars."
Tom was thunderstruck. "Who brought that news here?" he asked.
"De niggers, dey brung it. You can't keep anything away from de
darkies."
"How far is General Mason's place from here?"
"Fifteen miles, or sich a matter."
"And did the darkies say who stole it?"
"Oh, yes, sar. Dey say that a youngster named Tom Mason--he's just about
your size, but you aint no thief, be ye?"
"Do I look like a thief?" enquired Tom.
"I aint a-sayin' you did, sar. I only say he was just about your size.
Then this Luke Redman,--you've heared of him, aint ye?--he got hold of
the money and tried to run away to Texas."
"Well, the old gentleman has got it now," said Tom, who plainly saw that
it wouldn't do to talk too freely with the darky on this subject,
because he knew too much. "They organized a big expedition and hunted
the man down and captured him."
"I am mighty glad to hear it, and I hope dey will throw dem as 'as got
it in jail so tight that dey won't never have time to think of five
thousand dollars. Now, sit down on that block of wood and I'll soon get
you something to eat. You see, there is two bunks here? One belongs to
my pardner, who is home now, sick with the rheumatiz. Moster is mighty
keerful of his niggers, and he don't like to have Pomp come down here
dat a-way, so he told him he must stay about the house and do light
chores until next week, when he will come down here to help me split
rails. Dere's a slice of bacon and some johnny cake for you. If you can
wait till I fix up the fire I will give you a cup of coffee."
"Does your master give you coffee?" asked Tom in surprise, for he could
not remember that his uncle ever so far forgot himself.
"'Course he does, sar, when we are splittin' rails; and sometimes"--here
the darky leaned over and whispered the words to Tom, as if he feared
that somebody would overhear them--"we take a handful now and then to do
the old woman. Hy-ya!"
Tom laughed as heartily as the negro did,--his laugh was catching,--but
said he would wait until the darky had his supper.
"Very well, den. You eat your lunch and I will go back to my
rail-splittin'. When you get through, just lay down in Pomp's bunk and
go to sleep. I'll have you up at seven o'clock."
The darky went out, and Tom, being left to himself, proceeded to look
about him. The cabin, which was built of rails, was barely large enough
to seat two men at the table; but it was tight, and as the most the
darkies had to do was to eat and sleep under it, it had plenty of room
in it. Besides, there was a bench beside the door, and when the darkies
were tired of working, that was the place for them to "loaf." By the
time he had made these observations his bacon and johnny cake were gone,
and he got up and crept into Pomp's bunk.
By the time he awoke it was pitch dark, save where the faint light from
the dying fire which the negro had kindled to cook his supper shone
through the open doorway. The terrific snores which came from the bunk
at his feet told him that the darky had long ago retired to rest, but he
was hungry, and he crept out of bed to see if anything had been left for
him. He found a pot of coffee and a huge chunk of bacon and johnny cake
waiting for him on the coals, and as the fire had not had time to burn
itself out, they were as warm as when they first were cooked. But by
certain signs which he discovered while disposing of the good things the
darky had provided for him, he found that he had been asleep longer than
he had thought, and that daylight was not far off, and finally the negro
started up from an apparently sound sleep, threw aside the blankets with
a frantic sweep of his arm, and sat up and looked about him.
"Hi! dere you is," said he. "I fix up dat fire fo' times during de
night, but you was sleepin' so soundly that I couldn't b'ar to waken you
up. Has you got plenty?"
"Plenty, thank you. It's about four o'clock, isn't it?"
The negro pulled himself entirely out of bed, put on his shoes, and went
out and looked about him. After looking in vain for several stars which
he ought to have found, but could not, he announced that his guest had
struck the hour pretty closely.
"Well, then, while you are cooking your own breakfast, couldn't you put
on a little mess for me? You see, I am not bound for my uncle's house
just now. I have to go down to the landing to meet the steamer _John
Clark_ there, and get a trifling sum of money that one of the passengers
will have ready for me."
"Why, boss, how is you going to get across de bayou?" asked the darky,
in surprise.
"If my horse had not thrown me, I could have ridden him across," replied
Tom. "But he had to start off on his own hook, and I shall have to do
the best I can on foot. For that money I must have."
"Dat's all right, sar. But I don't see how you are going to get across
de bayou."
"Don't you? Well, you just go ahead and cook me some breakfast and then
I'll show you. If you had lived in these woods as long as I have, you
would know that it is an easy matter to cut a tree across some parts of
the bayou."
Tom washed his hands and face in some muddy water he dipped up from the
stream that ran a short distance from the camp, dried them on his
handkerchief, and watched the negro as he went about his work. Now and
then, when he thought Tom was not looking at him, he would roll up his
eyes, taking in at one swift glance all the clothing he wore, from his
hat down to his boots. Tom was well enough acquainted with the negro
character to know that he had excited his suspicions in some way.
"If I keep on in this way, I shall excite the mistrust of everyone I
chance to meet," thought Tom, who wondered what he could have said that
had caused this sudden change in the darky's behavior. "I have shut him
up like an oyster, and not another thing can I get out of him. I shall
be with him over half an hour longer, and then he can do what he pleases
with his suspicions."
"Dat's a mighty slick rascal, dat feller," muttered the darky, as he
fished the bacon out of the frying-pan and placed it on to a clean chip.
"Dere's your breakfast, sar. I'll eat mine out here by this stump."
"Give me a cup of coffee," said Tom. "It is all I want."
The steaming beverage was placed before him. Tom thought of the great
world into which he was so soon to enter, and wondered if everybody in
it was going to treat him as this obscure darky had done. Texas was a
pretty good-sized empire, he had heard them say, and he believed it was
made up mostly of men who had gone there to get clear of the law, and
who had enough to think of to keep themselves out of trouble;
consequently they wouldn't bother their heads about a boy who had been
suspected of stealing five thousand dollars. When Tom had reached this
point in his meditations, the darky, who had evidently swallowed his
breakfast whole and rolled up in a piece of old gunny sack the supply he
intended Tom should take with him, handed the bundle to him with one
hand, and reached out for the axe with the other.
"Ise ready now if you is, sar."
This was all that passed between them. Tom got up, pointed out the path
he wished the negro to follow in order to reach the narrowest part of
the stream, which he had examined the day before, and fell in behind
him; and it is a noticeable fact that he kept the black in front of him
all the way to the stream. It is true that the man had no weapon but his
axe, but with such an article, if he could only get the start with it,
he could easily march him before his master, and that was the very place
he didn't want to go. Such things had been done, and Tom did not see why
they could not be done again. In a few minutes they reached the bank of
the bayou, and when the negro saw it, he leaned on his axe and shook his
head.
"You knows what you want to do, don't you, sar?" he asked.
"Yes, I know just what I want to do," replied Tom. "Cut down this tree
first."
The negro glanced at the top of the tree in order to see which way it
would fall, cut a few bushes out of his way, and went to work. A few
blows with the axe brought the tree down and it lodged on the opposite
bank. Two more trees were cut down and the bridge was completed.
"Good-by, Snowball," said Tom, extending his closed hand toward the
negro. "I don't want you to do this for nothing. Here's a dollar to pay
you for your trouble."
"I--I don't want it, sar," replied the darky, drawing back. "I hope dat
money won't sink you afore you get across de river, but I'm mighty jubus
about it."
"What money?"
"General Mason's five thousand dollars, sar."
"Do you suppose I have got that amount of money stowed away about me?
Why, man, it's a valiseful. This money is all honest."
"I can't help dat, sar. I can't shake hands with you, either. I would be
afraid it would take all the strength out of my arms so't I couldn't
split more rails."
"All right, then. You stand here on the bank and see me work my way
across. I bet you that all the money I have about my clothes will not
sink me if I do fall overboard."
As Tom spoke he stepped recklessly upon the bridge. We say "recklessly,"
because had he taken more pains to examine the fastenings on the
opposite bank he would have been more careful. He had nearly crossed the
bayou when the log on which he was walking tipped a little, and although
Tom made frantic efforts to save himself by seizing all the branches
within his reach, it set the whole structure in motion. There was a
"swish" of tree-tops, and in a moment more the bridge and Tom went into
the water together. The negro looked, but did not see him come up.
"Dar, now!" said he. "The money he had about his clothes was too heavy
for him to walk the bridge with."