HOW THE AFFAIR ENDED.
The deliberations of the committee lasted several hours. Ratke
convinced his associates that the horses were hidden in the swamp,
and that, consequently, the roads surrounding that portion near which
the animals disappeared should be watched. The supervision of these
roads, which had an extent of eight miles, was divided between the
five members of the committee. Each member was to find enough men
systematically to guard the part apportioned him.
Montcalm cleverly secured the division extending eastward from
Takum's. He also obtained permission of the major to engage his
hands. Avoiding Sheppard and Wrengell, he secured the services of
Daggett, Brown, Thompson, and that still more valuable acquisition,
Archer, whom he promised some blankets and cigars and instructed to
pass the night as comfortably as possible.
In some bushes near the road Montcalm left the blankets which he had
promised Archer. At Break o'Day he hired two topers whom he found in
Dr. Rorus' drugstore.
Jimmy Martin and old John Davis, the men whom he engaged, were
chronic inebriates. They were harmless as doves, but not wise as
serpents. They worked much of the time by the day, and money they
valued solely as a means by which liquor was obtained. They accepted
the offer of the committee-man, because it necessitated no hard work
and because it promised better remuneration than common labor.
Montcalm knew that criticism would be made on his action in engaging
such inefficient sentinels, but he was in a desperate strait which
required the use of desperate expedients. It was possible for him in
a measure to avert suspicion. In the presence of three listeners he
refused their request to be supplied with whisky, saying that they
must remain sober during the night. Moreover, he told them that, if
they took a drop of the beverage with them, he should secure other
help.
At dusk he posted his guards. Commencing at the point where his
division joined that of Ratke, he placed his men in the order named:
Martin, Davis, Archer, Takum, Thompson, Brown, Daggett.
These were, as he afterward claimed, all the sentinels whom he could
procure, Archer's position was near a creek, the laggard waters of
which were moving toward the first of a chain of lakes connected with
the Huron River, Near him and leading toward the highway was an old
road which had been used in the transportation of poles from the
interior of the swamp.
"Here," said Montcalm, drawing the blankets from some alder bushes
where they were concealed, "you will have a comfortable time."
"I hope so," said Archer. "Planting corn is hard work when you drive
it."
"If you hear any disturbance," ordered Montcalm, "you call me. You
need not stay on your feet continually. Once an hour, or once every
two hours, you can go to the bridge and back. But do not let any one
know that you are favoring your legs in the least."
"No, I won't," assured Archer. "Folks don't seem to realize that a
laboring man gets tired. You spoke something about some cigars, Mr.
Montcalm."
"So I did," said Montcalm, handing him a half-dozen of the desired
gifts, which had a superior flavor to which Archer was unaccustomed.
"I must go and look to Takum. Do you think he will do his duty?"
"Well, I don't know," replied Archer. "The trouble with Phleet Takum
is, he's lazy. He'll never set the North River afire."
"How are you feeling?" asked Montcalm, as he joined Takum.
"Not very bumkum," answered the subordinate. "I was nigh scart to
death las' night, I thought they was a-comin' right into the house
an' goin' to drag me out. They'd hang a feller sure if they got their
claws on him."
"You are right," said Montcalm. "But they will not get their claws on
us."
"How be we goin' to help ourselves?" queried Takum. "They'll hunt the
swamp to-morrer, and they'll have them horses as sure as preachin'."
"We will look to that," said Montcalm,
"I know what we can do," said Philetus. "You an' me can take 'em out
up toward Will Archer. He'll be to sleep in an hour, an' thunder an'
lightin' won't wake him. He's too lazy to stand for a sign-post."
"We will let them stay for the present," replied Montcalm. "I want
you to do an errand for me."
"'Tain't far to go, is it?" asked Philetus. "Ever since las' night
I've been afraid o' my shadder."
"Up past Wallace's," said Montcalm, taking two quart bottles from his
pocket. "Carry these bottles under your jacket, just as you did the
chicken. Give one of them to Davis and one to Martin. But do not say
that I sent them. Make them believe that you came without my
knowledge, and that I would not like it if I knew it. Be particular
about this."
"Yes," assented Philetus. "But what are you goin' to do with the
horses? They'll find them to-morrer as sure as preachin'."
"The first thing to be done," said Montcalm, "is to go with the
whisky bottles. You must do exactly as I tell you now. I was patient
with you last night, but I will stand no more such work. I want you
to go there and get back as soon as you can. Remember, this is no
time to steal chickens."
"I ain't had no hankerin' to since las' night," responded I Takum
gloomily. "Gosh all Friday! I wish I was out o' this. It seems to me
I'd git them horses away."
"You recollect that I often had to warn you about talking too much,"
said Montcalm. "Do what I tell you and no more. Go with the bottles,
come back and stay here."
"Yes," answered Philetus, "they won't nobody hear a yip out o' me,
only Jimmy an' ole John an' you."
After satisfying himself that his threats and the fear of popular
vengeance had impressed Takum with the necessity of caution, Montcalm
went to his post, which was east of the swamp. He held a short
conversation with each of several neighbors who passed him. Leaning
over the broken-down gate in front of the unattractive house, he
talked a few minutes with Wallace, who complained of the rough
treatment which he had received from the band in pursuit of the
horse-thieves. The hour of eleven was approaching when he proceeded
toward the sentinels whom he had placed at the extremity of his
division. Old John was standing in an attitude of meditation by the
fence, with his hands grasping the top rail and his body unsteadily
waving about. Unconscious that he was watched, he staggered to a jug
and emptied a quart of liquid, a part into his throat, a greater
portion down his shirt collar. With more volume than melody floated a
song from Jimmy Martin, which showed that Philetus had faithfully
performed his errand. Montcalm on his return stopped at Wallace's
house and knocked. There was no light inside, but the door shortly
opened and he was admitted.
"I was tired and I went to bed," said Wallace. "I'll light the lamp.
Ab, get up."
The cord bedstead in the chamber groaned, and in a few minutes Ab
appeared.
"We'll take a turn at seven up," said Wallace. "Draw up your chair,
Montcalm."
"Count me in, too. Pa," said a large, rawboned, masculine looking
girl, whose freckled face pushed through the opening door of an
adjoining bedroom.
"Jule," exclaimed Wallace, "who told you to get up?"
"I told myself," replied Julia. "If there's any fun, I'll have my
share, and don't you forget it."
"Those windows ought to be darkened," remarked Montcalm. "If I should
be seen here, I might be accused of neglecting my duty."
"Here, you, Ab," exclaimed Julia, grabbing her brother by the
shoulders and jerking him backward from his chair, "run upstairs and
get a quilt."
"Don't be too smart, Jule," warned Wallace. "You may get set back a
peg. That girl's a trump," he said to Montcalm, as Julia disappeared
in another room. "I wish Ab was like her. If she was a boy, they'd
have to stand 'round for her. She and Ab don't always agree. They
fight like cats and dogs, and Jule is about enough for him."
"Now, Ab," whispered Julia, meeting that individual in his descent
from the stairs, "don't you take that old quilt in there for Mr.
Montcalm to see. It ain't fit. You get the cat's-paw."
"I don't know nothin' about any cat's-paw," said Ab, aloud. "You
can't make any cat's-paw of me."
"Hatefulness," replied Julia, giving him a push and running up the
stairs.
Julia brought down the cat's-paw and lugged out the best quilt from
the spare bedroom. These she put over the windows, and at Montcalm's
suggestion looked about for something to fill the keyhole of the
back-door. Passing by carpet rags and old clothing, she went to her
box of choicest finery, and from it selected a red ribbon which she
stuffed into the keyhole, taking pains to leave an end of it hanging
down for her visitor's inspection.
"You and me can beat pa and Ab at seven-up. Can't we, Mr. Montcalm?"
she said, smoothing the pendent strip of silk.
"They was rough on us last night," said Wallace, shuffling the cards
with dexterity. "It beat all how they tore around. They marked the
house all up with rocks, and turned the horses loose, and run the
buggy out. They hit one of the wheels against something and cracked
two of the spokes, and maybe three. It's a good thing they went just
as they did. If they hadn't, one of them would have got a lead pill."
"Ab," cried Julia, "quit looking over my hand, or your ears'Il catch
a warmin'."
"Shut up," growled Wallace, his looks betraying an admiration which
the severity of his language did not imply. "That's a girl such as
you don't often see, Montcalm. She's helped Ab an' me a good deal.
She's worked out for almost every one. She understands about the
houses and barns and horses, and how late the folks say up. That
comes real handy."
"You bet I can help," put in the masculine Julia. "If anybody where I
worked got up to watch pa and Ab, I'd rattle things around in the
house so they could hear. Clubs is trumps, Trace. Ab, you look out or
you'll get your chops slapped."
"You have engaged in a very profitable business, Mr. Wallace," said
Montcalm.
"You can't tell me anything about the business," said Wallace. "The
time I went on the raid over in Eaton I just got away with my life.
They caught the horse and just missed me. The first thing after I go
into it again, my house is stoned and my property destroyed. Oh, I've
had experience enough."
"This venture is likely to be more profitable," asserted Montcalm.
"You have already received twenty dollars."
"I've earned it too," replied Wallace. "Hacking away at them
tamaracks and wading out to get to 'em ain't any fun. I noticed you
didn't do much of it. It was small pay I got."
"It was better than raising wheat at a dollar a bushel," said
Montcalm.
"No one but fools will grow wheat," returned Wallace. "I can get it
easier from barns than from the ground. I won't have my ribs smashed
by plow-handles to raise provender for some bloated bondholder. The
capitalists have got it all their own way, and they wouldn't give a
cent to keep us from standing to death. The laboring man has got to
look out for himself. The rich ones won't look out for him. You can
take five bushels of wheat from three or four bins, and it won't be
noticed, but when you take a horse, there's an everlasting pow-wow."
"You can get your provisions that way," said Montcalm, "but you will
want money for other things."
"Yes, Pa," cried Julia. "And I want some dresses and rings, and you
promised me a breastpin."
"Oh, yes, you want," grumbled Wallace--"you want a good deal, but you
won't get it. Montcalm, hadn't you better pay me for them jugs of
cider that you had me take to Jimmy and old John? That's worth thirty
cents a gallon--sixty cents."
"All right," answered Montcalm, as he felt in his pocket for some
silver. "It is right that you should have it."
Presently Montcalm arose and stated his intention to leave.
"Not yet," said Julia, "not till you play another game of euchre. Pa
and Ab are ahead of us now."
"It is impossible for me to stay longer," replied Montcalm.
"Now, we'll see," said Julia. "If I don't let you go, it ain't
impossible."
"You must excuse me this time," said Montcalm.
"No, you don't," cried the unfeminine Julia, making a spring toward
him and throwing her arms about him as he moved to the door.
"Smack him, Jule," said Wallace, and the daughter obeyed.
Montcalm, feeling very foolish and thinking that for once his
flattery had brought him not the most pleasant results, writhed from
her grasp and fled from the house.
"You'll come again, will you?" demanded Julia.
"Yes, I certainly shall," answered Montcalm.
"When?" asked Julia--"next Sunday night?"
"I cannot promise," said Montcalm. "I will come as soon as possible."
"If you don't come then, there'll be a racket," said Julia; and with
this warning she shut the door.
"That'll make a fine woman for somebody," said Wallace. "Wouldn't she
be the boss for a night-raider?"
"Perhaps," said Montcalm, "if he wished to get married. Ab, go up and
see how Jimmy and old John get along, while I take a turn through the
swamp."
Montcalm, as he had expected, found Archer wrapped in the shelter of
some bushes, oblivious to hi surroundings. His visit to Takum
convinced him that he need have no fears concerning the faithfulness
of that subordinate.
"Oh, Mr. Montcalm," whispered Philetus, "I ought to tell you
somethin'. Will you be mad if I talk?"
"By no means," answered Montcalm. "Talk on. Phleet."
"There's some one a-gittin' ready to muckle us," said Philetus. "I
heard 'em a-talkin' together down yonder, an' they went in the
tamaracks."
"I will go and see," said Montcalm.
His trip was far from satisfactory. There remained not one of the
hired men who had been stationed along the road. He refrained from
relating his discovery to the Wallaces, who, he feared, might be
intimidated by the revelation.
"They're as quiet as they can be," remarked Ab, as the three men met.
"That whisky and cider together laid 'em right out."
"We must hurry," said Montcalm. "We have no time to lose."
They took an angling course toward the swamp. When they reached the
tamaracks they commenced to remove the sharpened trees in the manner
which had so surprised Philetus. This road was shorter than the one
which led to the hiding-place of the animals from the opposite side.
It extended to an open strip, in the center of which ran the creek,
whose banks were overflowed. A distance below was a boat which
reached nearly across the stream. The men got into the boat. Montcalm
pushed once with the paddle, and they stopped on the opposite shore.
Twenty minutes later and they were untying the stolen Billy and
Madge T.
The horses, apparently willing to leave the loneliness of their
retreat for a common equine habitation, gave little trouble until
they came to the creek, where they snorted and stood with their feet
braced, yielding only to the persuasion of some long whips.
The creek crossed, they were led out, both at once, by the three men.
Wallace suggested that Ab should rearrange the newly cut path while
he and Montcalm attended to the stolen beasts, but the more prudent
superior would not consider the proposition. With his own hands he
replaced most of the trees and moved others which the Wallaces did
not place to suit him. He scattered brush and fallen trees
plentifully along the route, not, he said, so much for the purpose of
covering the signs of travel as of inducing the searchers to keep
away from the disguised road by going around the obstacles.
"Maybe you're in love with this work, but I ain't," said Wallace, as,
after leaving the tamaracks, he was tramping through the water, which
reached above his boot tops. "This is fun. I suppose about to-morrow
night the crowd'll come along and tear down my bam and burn my shanty
over my head."
"We have no expectation of getting caught," replied Montcalm,
expressing a confidence which he did not feel. "We had better go as
silently as we can. Probably we and the guards are the only ones in
the neighborhood who are astir, but it is best to use caution."
Had Montcalm acquainted the Wallaces with the facts communicated by
Takum he might have been in his extremity deserted by his help, whose
selfishness would have allowed no consideration for him to endanger
their safety or that of their property. For this reason he encouraged
them and quieted their fears, using tactics exactly opposite to those
which he employed in the management of Philetus.
"Ah," said Wallace, when they had arrived at his barn, "go in and get
that crank on the girt."
Ab soon returned, bringing a crank and an iron bar to which was
attached a short chain. Wallace took the bar and inserted one end of
it in a comer of the barn, while the other protruded through a post
which was set near. In front of the barn was a long stack of hay,
which appeared to rest on the ground. Montcalm in the mean time had
laid down some straight, smoothly hewn rails, thus forming a tramway
between the post and the end of the stack. Raising some locks of the
dried marsh grass, he fastened an end of a short rope to either side
of a car which supported the stack. Then he joined the short ropes to
a longer one, which he connected with the chain by a hook, and next
he set the crank on an iron bar. Montcalm and Wallace turned the
handle of this contrivance, when the stack trundled slowly forward
and stopped within a few feet of the post.
"There," said Wallace. "That's all I'll turn. I won't break my back
over a crank."
The removal of the stack exposed to view a pit which had been dug
underneath the barn. So carefully performed had been the work of
excavation that, when the entrance of the cellar was covered by the
hay, its existence would not have been suspected by one unacquainted
with the secret; and neither about the barnyard nor in sight of it
was visible a trace of the dirt, the transfer of which must have
occupied some weeks.
"That work was well done," observed Montcalm.
"Thanks and compliments is cheap," answered Wallace. "I wish I had
what pay I ought to have. I'll never work so cheap again."
The horses did not fancy entering the underground stable. The colt
hung back, braced his feet, and was induced to go in only by the use
of the whip, or as Wallace termed it, "the persuader."
The stack was pushed to its first position without the help of a
lever, as the ground ascended toward the post.
"You had better get into the house," observed Montcalm. "You may be
seen by some prowlers."
Montcalm visited the drunken guards from Break o'Day. He shook them,
broke their bottles and jugs and complained bitterly of their
neglect. While he was still shaking and lecturing Martin, he heard a
long-drawn yell, which, as he instantly surmised, proceeded from
Archer. With many misgivings he sped toward the spot from which the
disturbance issued. Justice was on his track. Takum's only guaranty
of trustworthiness was his fear; Wallace cared for self alone, and
here was a new trouble, which he could barely locate, much less
define. In front of Wallace's barn he met Archer, who was much
excited.
"They've gone," said Archer. "They've got away with the horses."
"How do you know?" asked Montcalm, with an apprehension which he
succeeded in hiding.
"Because I saw 'em," replied Archer, "and I thought I'd come up here
and tell you."
Montcalm soon decided on his course of action. He would tell the
Wallaces of Archer's disclosure, and prepare, when necessity
demanded, to flee from the danger which menaced him.
"Where did the horses go?" he inquired.
"Up the road," answered Archer. "Up the road!" ejaculated Montcalm in
astonishment. "Yes," said Archer, "they come out of the old road in
the swamp where they used to haul fence-posts through."
Montcalm, relieved, though perplexed, left Archer on his beat and
went to the station of Philetus, which was deserted. He called
loudly, but two or three minutes elapsed before a faint response came
from the swamp. Making his way through the tamaracks, which at that
point were large and comparatively far apart, he found Takum, who was
coming to meet him.
"Oh, Mr. Montcalm!" exclaimed Philetus, "somebody got 'em and'
they'll find us! We're gone up! Great Augustus! I'm a goin' to
Californy!"
"We are all right," consoled Montcalm. "Did you not expect that I
would get the horses? If I had not taken them from the swamp, we
would surely have been found out."
"Was that all?" said Philetus. "I heard somebody a-comin' through
that road, an' I thought they'd found the horses. They raised a great
hellaballoo an' run up this way. I didn't think you'd make such a
noise, but it ain't none o' my bisness, an' I won't talk about it."
"Get back to your post," said Montcalm. "You must let no one suspect
that you were frightened."
In the road Montcalm discovered the horses' tracks, and, following
them along the highway, which was quite deserted, he ascertained to
his surprise that they led to Ratke's barns.
As he was passing the club-house on the way to the family dwelling,
his attention was arrested by the sound of voices and laughter, and
as he stopped, he overheard the words of Daggett, who was saying:
"Didn't we have a time of it waking him, though? I poked him with a
pole two minutes before he give a grunt. But he flew around lively
enough after he did get up."
By nine o'clock in the forenoon a body of men and boys, to the number
of two hundred, had assembled at Ratke's. Carrying a variety of arms,
including, rifles, shotguns, revolvers, rusty swords and muskets with
bayonets attached, they proceeded in a body to the swamp, where they
separated in order to facilitate their search.
The old men stayed on the hard land, while the younger portion of the
crowd, among which were a few boys, struck out boldly for the
tamaracks. But their ardor, as well as their persons, was dampened by
the water, which for the greater part of the year encircled the great
swamp, and against which, at that time, the highest rubber boots were
an imperfect protection. The water poured over the boot-tops of the
men. The brush scratched the bare legs of the boys, who had rolled up
their trousers. All were annoyed by the bushes, which in many places
were so thick that vision was limited to a distance of a few feet.
One by one, wet, tired and discouraged, the searchers returned to the
up-land, asserting that a horse would not venture where they had
been, and that no one but old Ratke would have imagined the thing.
With their zeal for the capture of the thieves considerably lessened,
they returned to their homes, disgusted with their own folly in being
drawn into any scheme projected by the inventor of the New Jerusalem.
Jimmy Martin and old John Davis boasted of how they secured the
liquor in spite of Montcalm's precautions. This was an incident of
the hunt at which the people laughed heartily, and Montcalm was glad
to be subjected to ridicule instead of suspicion.