_Nat’s Fortune_.
“Well, sir, I have slept all night in these woods alone and there has
no ghost been near to warn me that I had better quit my search and go
home,” said Nat, sitting up on his bed of boughs and rubbing his eyes.
“I reckon the ghosts all exist in that storekeeper’s imagination. Now I
must take a good look at that rock again, eat some crackers and cheese
and go down after that spade and pick-ax. By this time tomorrow I shall
be a rich man.”
Nat had often wondered how much there was of that money that was hidden
away, and he was always obliged to confess that he did not know. The
neighbors all insisted that old man Nickerson was “powerful rich,” and
acting upon this supposition he thought that about $5,000 would amply
repay him for all his trouble. That would get him a nice education, and
that was all that Nat asked for. He could then take care of himself.
Nat sprang off his bed, performed the hasty operation of washing his
hands and face in the brook, and not having any towel to wipe upon,
went up the bank toward the stone, shaking the water off his hands as
he went. The rock was all there; he was certain on that point. If he
had that spade and pick-ax in his hands he would soon know how much he
was worth. The only trouble with him now was, to dig it up, reach St.
Louis with it in some way or other and put it in the bank. Once there
he would like to see Jonas and Caleb get their hands upon it.
The next thing was breakfast, and that was very soon dispatched, and
then he tried to make himself a little more respectable to the persons
who met him on the way by brushing off his clothes and bringing some
pins into play to hide his rents. Then he stood up and looked at
himself.
“They will show anyway, I don’t care how I pin them,” said Nat, at
length. “Well, what’s the odds? Everyone knows how I lived there under
that man’s roof, and I can’t be expected to look any better. Maybe I
will look as well as the best of them one of these days.”
Nat’s first care was to hide Peleg’s gun and ammunition for fear
that some one might come along and appropriate them to his own use.
The whole thing was not worth two dollars, but still that would be
something for Peleg to lose. He would go frantic if he found that the
gun had been stolen. This done he was ready to leave his camp and he
took the near way through the bushes; and when they had closed up
behind him he could not help thinking how frightened Peleg was when he
came through there. He neither saw nor heard anything alarming, and
in a short time he climbed the fence and was out in the road. As luck
would have it a team was going by, and the man pulled up his horses and
offered him a ride.
“Going fur?” said he. “Well jump in.”
“Thank you,” said Nat “It’s about six miles to Manchester, and I
believe it is cheaper riding than walking.”
“What are you doing down there in old man Nickerson’s?” asked the man.
“Ain’t you the boy that lives with old man Keeler! I hear that old man
Nickerson is dead.”
“Yes sir. He just died a few days ago.”
“Well, how much did he leave old man Jonas’s wife! I hear he was
powerful rich.”
“I don’t know how much he was worth, but I don’t believe he left
anything.”
“Now that is mighty mean of him. He has some money somewhere, and the
man what finds it is rich as Julius Caesar.”
“I thought he must be worth $5,000 dollars,” said Nat.
“Oh, my! Say $15,000 or $20,000, and you will just about hit it. You
see some fellows living around here think that the rebels got it, but
the old man was too sharp for them. Then they got mad and burned his
house and left him out in the cold; and then Jonas took him in. Did he
leave Jonas anything!”
“No, I am quite sure he did not. Are there any ghosts down here in the
woods!”
“Naw. There are some fellows who have been up here a time or two, and
when they came back they told wonderful stories of what they had seen
back there in the timber. But there is nothing to it.”
Nat became silent after this and so did the man He began to be real
uneasy now, for there was a difference in the sum the old man had left
behind him. He drew a long breath every time he thought of the wide
gulf there was between $5,000 and $15,000 or $20,000, so much so that
the driver looked at him in surprise; but he had nothing to say for
which Nat was very thankful. In due time they arrived at Manchester,
and Nat, after thanking the man once more for his kindness, sprang from
the wagon and went into the store.
“Well, sir, I declare, if one of them boys hasn’t come back,” said the
storekeeper, hurrying forward to shake hands with Nat. “Did you see
any of them ghosts and what did they say to you!”
“I did not see one,” said Nat, with a smile. “I guess last night was
not their night to come out. Have you got my things handy?”
“Yes sir. They are right up here where I put them. But what has become
of your pardner?”
“You scared him out.”
“Do you mean that he has run away? Well, I am sorry for that,” said the
storekeeper, on receiving an affirmative nod from Nat.
“I am not sorry for it,” said Nat to himself. “It gave me just the
chance I was waiting for--to dig without his knowing it.”
Without waiting for the man to ask him any more questions Nat picked
up the things he had left behind, including the pick-ax and spade,
and turned to go out when the storekeeper evidently wanted some other
matters settled.
“You said yesterday that you were going up to them woods to look for
timber,” said he. “Now what do you want to do with those things!” he
went on, pointing to the spade and pick-ax.
“There are some other things we wanted to fix,” said Nat, without an
instant’s hesitation. “We are going to put in some crops there, and we
want to repair the old man’s fence which has become torn down during
the war.”
“Oh!” said the man, staring rather hard at Nat. “You will need an ax,
then.”
“That reminds me. I came pretty near forgetting it.”
Nat laid down his bundles again and the man turned to get the implement
he had spoken of, and while he was getting it down he kept his eyes
fastened on Nat’s face. But he said nothing more and saw him take his
purchases and leave the store.
“Now maybe that story will do and maybe it won’t,” said the man, as
he came out from behind the counter and watched Nat going along the
street. “There is something else that you want to dig for. I wonder if
it is the old man’s money?”
“They say that he had sights and gobs of it when he buried it to keep
it out of the hands of the rebels,” said a man who was seated in the
back part of the store, and who now came up to listen to what the
storekeeper had to say. “But the rebels didn’t get none of it. He hid
it where they couldn’t find it.”
“They say he is living up to Jonas Keeler’s,” said the first.
“Old man Nickerson is dead. He has been dead two or three days. It is a
wonder you had not heard of it.”
“Well, sir, that boy is going to dig for the money,” said the
storekeeper, doubling up his huge fist and bringing it down upon the
counter. “Now what be we going to do about it!”
“I don’t know of any other way than for me and you to go up there and
watch him while he digs for it,” said the customer, in a whisper. “When
he gets it dug up, we’ll just take it.”
“And what will the boy do?” asked the storekeeper.
“Oh, we can easy fool him. Let us play ghosts.”
That was something new to the storekeeper. He drew nearer to his
customer and the two whispered long and earnestly. At length they
seemed to agree upon a plan, for the customer went out and the
storekeeper went back to his place behind the counter.
“I let that fellow talk too much,” said Nat, as he walked hurriedly
away with his bundles in his arms. “He knows that I want to dig in the
ground, or else I wouldn’t have called for these things. I must get
back to my camp and go to work as soon as possible, or else I shall
have some one else on my back.”
Nat was now harassed by another fear and to save his life he could not
shake it off. That storekeeper at Manchester knew there was no such
thing as ghosts in the woods, he knew that Peleg had been frightened
away by the bare mention of such objects as might be around in the
event of their search proving successful, and how did he know but that
the storekeeper and some one like him, might take it into their heads
to come up and look into the matter. He was now more afraid of those
men than he was of Jonas and Caleb.
“I tell you it all depends upon getting my work done quick,” said Nat,
turning about and looking at the store. “That storekeeper will come up
there for fifteen or twenty--By gracious! I wish I had that money dug
up now.”
The longer Nat dwelt upon the matter the greater haste seemed necessary
and the longer the distance was to the Nickerson woods. He broke into a
dog trot before he was fairly out of sight of the city, and by the time
he climbed the fence that threaded the bushes he was nearly exhausted.
Everything there was just as he left it; but so out of breath was Nat
that he threw himself on his bed of boughs and heartily wished he
possessed the strength of a dozen men. At length he sprang up and went
to work. He must do something or else see his fortune slip through his
grasp. He cut the lever with which to move the rock, trimmed it off
neatly and catching up his pick-ax and spade he jumped across the brook
and made his way up the hill. Hastily clearing away the bushes that had
grown up around the rock he thrust his lever under one side of it, got
under the other end, and to his surprise the rock moved with scarcely
an effort on his part.
“Hail Columbia happy land!” gasped Nat, as he eased up for a moment on
the lever and surged upon it to obtain a new hold upon the rock. “The
thing moves, and that proves that it has been pried out of its bed
before. Come out here and let us see what’s under you.”
The rock was heavier than Nat thought it was, but by dint of sheer hard
work he finally succeeded in getting it out of its bed and moved away
so that he could use his spade. To have seen him go about his work one
would have thought he had an all day’s job before him and that he was
to ask for his pay when his work was done. Although his face was very
white and his hands trembled, he took a spadeful of earth before he
threw it out, and once, when he saw the perspiration gathering upon
him, he stopped, took off his hat and wiped his forehead ere he set in
again.
“I just know there is something here, but I will take it easy and
by the time I strike the money--but perhaps it isn’t money at all,”
murmured Nat, pausing in his exertions to see how much he had
accomplished. “Whatever there is, it has got to come out.”
Before Nat got down as far as he wanted to go he came to the conclusion
that Mr. Nickerson must have thought that he had plenty of time at his
disposal, for he dug down at least two feet before he struck anything.
But the earth was soft, in all these years it had not become packed at
all, and that showed that there had been somebody there before him.
At length his spade hit something hard--something which he could not
remove. He dug down by the side of it and then found that it was a
board which completely filled up the space. To get the dirt off of the
rest of the board was comparatively easy, and then Nat threw out his
spade, stepped to one side and placed his hands under it. The sight
that met his gaze was enough to deprive him of the little strength he
had left. The space below him was literally filled up with bags--small
bags, to be sure, but one of them was so heavy that when Nat came to
lift it from its place and put it out of the hole so that he could
examine it, he found that handling it was quite as much as he wanted to
do.
“Hail Columbia happy land!” said Nat again. “I am in luck for once in
my life. There is more than $5,000 in that bag.”
Nat followed the bag out of the hole, carefully untied the string with
which it was closed and he was astonished at what he saw. The bag was
filled with gold pieces, twenties and tens and fives down to ones. That
one bag alone must have contained almost the sum he had named.
“Now everything depends upon my quickness,” said Nat, seating himself
beside the bag and looking thoughtfully at the others. “What shall I
do with them now that I have got them? I must put them somewhere else.”
Nat went about this work as though he could see into the future and
knew what was going to happen there in his camp in less than ten
minutes. He sprang into the hole again and as fast as he could raise
the bags they came out on the earth he had shoveled up. Then he came
out and running into his camp seized Peleg’s valise and emptied the
contents upon the ground. It was better than nothing, although it would
not hold more than two bags. The other one he carried under his arm
and then began looking around for some place to hide them. It did not
matter much where he put them so long as they could effectually hide
the spot from curious eyes. At last he stopped before a huge log which
had a quantity of leaves piled against it. To scrape those leaves away
with his hands was an easy matter, and his bags were hastily put in,
and yet there was enough for three others. They were quickly stowed
away in the new place, and with the spade Nat made everything look as
natural as it did before.
The next thing was to fill up the hole and restore the rock to its
bed. It seemed to him that this was a task beyond his powers but
perseverance conquers all obstacles, and when it was done he threw
some leaves over the earth that was scattered around, put the branches
back in their place and then he was tired enough to sit down; but
there was still one thing that remained to be done. The contents of
Peleg’s valise had to be returned, and when this was done, without any
reference being made to the order in which his underwear was placed,
and his spade and pick-ax had been brought under the lean-to and the ax
hidden away in the bushes, Nat was ready to sit down and draw a long
breath of relief.
“Hail Columbia, happy land!” said he to himself. “It is better to be
born lucky than rich. There must be as much as thirty or forty thousand
dollars in those bags. It is mine, Mr. Nickerson told me that he had no
kith or kin to leave it to, and I will die before I will give it up. I
am quite willing that anybody should come in here and go all over the
woods, and if he did not see me hide the money he will have his trouble
for his pains.”
While this thought was passing through his mind he heard a sudden
rattling in the bushes behind him, and before he could start to
his feet to see who it was, the branches parted and Jonas Keeler’s
forbidding face came through. The face, half hidden by thick, bushy
whiskers, did not look much as it did when Nat last saw him. There was
an eager expression upon it, and his hands trembled so that he could
scarcely take his rifle down from his shoulder.
“Well, sir, we have found you at last,” said Jonas, with a grin.
“Yes sir, you have found me at last,” repeated Nat, sinking back upon
his bed of boughs again.
Just at that moment the bushes parted again and Caleb came out. He
seemed more eager than his father was. He looked all around to make
sure that there was no one else present, and then walked into the camp
as though he had a right to.
“Thank goodness here’s a gun,” said he, and the tenderness with which
he picked up his single barrel and looked it carefully over, would have
led one to believe that it was worth money. “Did you see anything to
shoot with it?”
“No,” replied Nat. “The woods were perfectly quiet last night.”
“Now, Nat, let us come to business at once,” said Jonas setting his
rifle down by the side of a tree and pushing back his sleeve. “Where is
the money that you have come here to dig up?”
CHAPTER XII.
_Two Brave Hunters._
“Ghosts,” said Jonas Keeler, leaning his back against the side of the
barn and crossing his legs. “I didn’t know that there was any around
here, although we used to hear and see plenty of them down in Pike
County where I lived when I was a boy.”
“Where did you go to find them, pap?” asked Caleb, who seemed to be
deeply interested in what his father had to say.
“We didn’t go anywhere to see them. They generally came to us, and they
came, too, just when we didn’t want to see them. We used to find them
in grave-yards; and now and then they would come into our barns and
houses. What did they do to you, Peleg? You need not be afraid to speak
of them here, because there ain’t no ghosts about.”
“They didn’t do anything to me,” answered Peleg, “cause why, I got
afraid and dug out.”
Peleg had been looking for a place to sit down, and when nothing else
offered he sat down on the floor of the barn and drew his feet under
him. His story was a long one and immensely thrilling. He said that he
and Nat did not hear anything out of the ordinary until they came to
Manchester, and then the storekeeper put them on their guard. He told
about the queer things he had heard while going through the bushes, and
then he came to the strange words Nat had used--“Here I am and there
I am” until Jonas began to look wild. But when he came to the tree on
the hillside which dropped its boughs when Nat called upon him, Jonas’s
face, which had thus far betrayed the deepest interest, suddenly gave
away to a smile, and he finally threw his head back against the barn
and broke out into a violent laugh.
“Now I will tell you what’s the fact; it is the truth and nothing
else,” stammered Peleg, who was lost in wonder. “I saw it with my own
eyes.”
“No doubt you did,” said Jonas, wiping his eyes to get rid of the
tears that held to them. “But don’t you know that that was the sign of
falling weather? If you don’t, you have lived in this country a good
while for nothing.”
“That’s what I tell him,” said Mr. Graves. “He has got so interested in
the ghosts that he is willing to believe he sees ghosts in everything.”
“Well, all I have to say is, let them that think differently go down
there and stay all night,” said Peleg. “I won’t do it for no man’s
money.”
“Did Nat feel afraid when you spoke of the ghosts?” asked Jonas.
“Naw. That boy ain’t afraid of anything. He even called after me when I
started for home to come back again, but I didn’t go.”
“Caleb, have you got them cows milked?” asked Jonas, getting upon his
feet. “Then you had better stir your stumps and we will go in and get
some breakfast. It is after grub time now, and I begin to feel hungry.”
“Well, Jonas, what are you going to do?” inquired Mr. Graves, who
somehow took this as a gentle hint that he had got through with their
conversation. “Are you going down there to see about that money?”
“Naw,” said Jonas; whereupon Caleb, who had gathered up a milk-bucket,
turned and looked at him with mouth and eyes wide open. “There ain’t no
money there. When Nat gets tired of looking for it he will come back.”
Mr. Graves acted as though he wanted to say something else, but Jonas
picked up a fork and began tossing about the fodder and paid no further
attention to him. He waited a minute or two, then motioned to Peleg,
put his rifle on his shoulder and went out. Jonas continued tossing
about the fodder until they were well on their way to the house, and
then stood the fork up where it belonged and called to Caleb in a
whisper:
“Say; do you believe all that boy said about ghosts?” said he.
“Yes. Don’t you?” said Caleb in surprise.
“No, I don’t. There may be some down there--I ain’t disputing that; but
Nat never used words to help him look for that money. Say, I am going
down there.”
“Oh, pap!” was all Caleb could say in reply.
“I am, and if there is money there, I will bet you he has found it.”
“But, pap, you said there wasn’t any there.”
“Don’t you see I said that just to keep old man Graves and his boy at
home? Hurry up and milk them cows and I will hitch up the horse.”
“Are you going with the wagon?”
“Course. It is easier to ride than it is to walk, and the first thing
we know--”
“Must I go with you?” said Caleb, almost ready to drop.
“Of course you are. I can’t go alone; and think of the money we will
have when we come back!”
“Well, pap, you can go and I’ll stay here. It ain’t safe to go. Peleg
has been down there and he said he would not go again for no man’s
money. I’ve got a heap of work to do--”
“Now, Caleb, you just shut up about the work you’ve got to do,” said
Jonas angrily. “You will have to go with me and that is all about it.
If Nat is not afraid of the ghosts, why should you be?”
“Yes; but you know how good Nat was to the old man when he was alive.
If I had been that way, I could have gone, too.”
Jonas evidently did not hear this last remark of Caleb’s, for he seized
the harness and went in to fix up the horse which did not look able to
travel twenty miles to save his life. But then that was the way that
Jonas’s stock all looked. In a few minutes he had the harness on and
led him out of the barn to hitch him to the wagon. It was just at this
time that Mr. Graves and his party were going outside the bars and his
wife was coming down the walk to meet him. She was coming with long
strides, too, as if she had something on her mind.
“Say, Jonas,” said she, as soon as she was near enough to make him hear.
“Well, say it yourself,” retorted Jonas. “I know all about it. I am
going down to old man Nickerson’s woods, me and Caleb are, and we are
going to have that money. Have you anything to say against it?”
“Oh, Jonas, don’t you know that there are ghosts down there?” said Mrs.
Keeler, almost ready to believe that the man had taken leave of his
senses to propose such a thing.
“Then that’s what his wife stopped in the house for,” said Jonas, and
he shouted out the words so that Mr. Graves could hear them. “What does
she know about ghosts? Now I heard all Peleg’s story, and I listened to
it as though I believed it; but if Nat is down there and can stay there
all night without the ghosts troubling him, why can’t other people do
it, too? There ain’t no ghosts there.”
“Do you really think so, Jonas?”
“I know it. You see by going with the horse we’ll get there in the
daytime, and everybody knows that ghosts can’t hurt you then. I will
make him get that money and then me and you will have good times.”
“But maybe Nat won’t do it. He would be a fule to tell you where that
money is hidden.”
Jonas was by this time engaged in hitching one of the traces to the
whiffletree of the wagon. He stopped in his work, leaned against his
horse which did not seem able to bear any weight but his own, and put
his hands into his pockets.
“That boy is a plumb dunce if he is going down there to find that
money and then give it up to you, who didn’t do the first thing toward
helping him,” continued Mrs. Keeler.
“What’s the reason Nat won’t give up the money to me?” demanded Jonas.
“Because you won’t have your switch handy.”
“I have my knife in my pocket, and I tell you that switches are as
handy down there in the woods as they be up here,” said Jonas, once
more turning to his work. “What did that old woman Graves have to say
to you?”
“Oh, she told the awfulest stories of what Peleg had seen,” said Mrs.
Keeler, moving up to be a little closer to her husband. “She told about
the heads and horns coming out of the bushes--”
“She made that all up out of her own head,” interrupted Jonas, who
became angry again. “Peleg did not see anything, because if he had, Nat
would have become frightened, too. Now is breakfast ready? I am just
crazy to be on my way to them woods. When you see us coming back, you
can just take them old caliker gowns of yours and bundle them into the
fire. You won’t have any more use for them.”
Mrs. Keeler tried to look pleased at this, but somehow or other she
could not help thinking of the work Jonas would have to do before she
could take those “caliker gowns” and tumble them into the fire. But
she did not say any more for she knew it would be useless. She led the
way toward the house to get breakfast ready, and Jonas followed with
the wagon. Caleb came along presently with the milk, and he was the
most sober one in the lot. He knew better than to refuse to go with his
father, for there was that switch down in the barn. It had not been
brought into use since his father threatened to apply it to Nat for
saying that he would not give up the shoes he had purchased, and Caleb
did not want to see it brought out for his benefit.
Jonas was evidently not at ease during breakfast, for he talked
incessantly about the money which he knew was there, and the way he was
going to induce Nat to show it to him.
“Just let me touch that switch to him once and see how quick he will
run to that place where the money is hidden,” said Jonas, with an
approving wink at his son. “He will go so fast that you can’t see him
for the dust. If he don’t do it, I have another thing that will get
next to him. I’ll tie him up and leave him there in the woods without a
bite to eat or a drop to drink, and see how long he will be in coming
to his senses.”
The breakfast being over there was nothing to detain them. Caleb got
up and took down his father’s rifle which he closely examined. With
that in his hands he was pretty sure that he could fight his way with
any ghost that came in his path.
“Put a double charge of powder in there and two bullets,” said Jonas.
“That’s the way I come it over a deer, and I will bet you if one of
them ghosts gets those balls in his head--Well, he will be a dead
ghost, that’s all.”
“You will let me carry the rifle, won’t you?” said Caleb.
“No, I reckon I had best carry it myself and you do the driving,” said
Jonas, stretching out his hand for the weapon. “You can drive that old
horse a heap faster than I can, and if I see one of those horns stuck
out from the bushes--”
“Now, Jonas, don’t talk that way,” whined Mrs. Keeler, casting uneasy
glances about the room. “There may be one of them here now.”
“Naw, there ain’t. There ain’t no ghosts in the world. If you are ready
Caleb, jump in. You will see us somewhere about sun-down.”
Jonas went ahead to lower the bars so that the wagon could drive
through, and then, paying no further attention to his wife, he climbed
to his seat, and Caleb cracked the whip and drove off.
“Hit the old fellow and make him go faster,” said Jonas. “We must get
there by sun up, and have plenty of time to do the work besides. If we
don’t, we have got to come home in the dark.”
This was all the encouragement that Caleb needed to make him keep up a
tremendous beating of the horse all the way to Manchester. The horse
suffered and did his best, but he did not seem to carry them over the
miles very rapidly; but at length, to Caleb’s immense relief, the
village appeared in sight. Of course the travelers were hungry and the
horse needed watering, and so they drew up before the store at which
Nat had purchased his things. Of course, too, the storekeeper knew
them; he knew everybody within a circle of twenty miles around, and
greeted them very cordially.
“Well, if there ain’t Jonas,” said he, briskly. “Are you going up to
the woods to see how Nat is getting on? He was in here an hour or so
ago, but I don’t see what he got those things for. He told me that he
was going to look at some timber, and he bought a pick-ax and spade.
Now what is he going to do with them?”
This was the same man who had waited on Nat when he was in the store,
and he was determined to find out what those digging implements were to
be used for. The customer whom he had consulted, was outside attending
to some necessary business and getting a team ready to go up to Mr.
Nickerson’s woods and find out, but he looked upon Jonas’s coming as a
most fortunate thing, and he hoped that by some adroit questioning he
could learn something; but he soon gave it up as a bad job.
“Now the boy doesn’t want a pick-ax and spade to find timber with, does
he?” continued the storekeeper. “He must be going to dig in the ground
with them, and I would like to know what he is after. He said he was
going to repair some fences; but I did not believe it.”
“Give me ten cents’ worth of crackers and ten cents’ worth of cheese,”
said Jonas, who wanted to get a little time to think about this matter.
“I believe we are going to have falling weather before long.”
“It looks like it now,” said the man, hurrying to fulfill Jonas’s
order. “We need rain badly. What did you say Nat wanted that spade and
pick-ax for?”
“Oh yes; he is going to fix some fences, and of course he needs a
spade to get the blocks in right,” said Jonas, who had been doing some
tremendous thinking while the storekeeper was getting out his crackers
and cheese. “I am going up to look at him and see that he does his work
right Yes, the old man is dead,” said he, in reply to a question. “And
if I can pay the tax rates on this place I shall have it.”
“Did he leave you anything?” asked the storekeeper. “I suppose that is
what you are looking out for.”
“I don’t know why I should look for that more’n anything else,” said
Jonas, in a tone of voice that showed the storekeeper that he did not
care to answer any more questions on this point. “The money was his
own, and he left it to whom he pleased.”
Having secured his crackers and cheese and the horse having drunk all
he could, Jonas and Caleb climbed into the wagon again and continued on
their way. At this moment the customer drove up with a team.
“It is no go, Eph,” said the storekeeper. “That’s Jonas in that wagon.
He did not say anything about money, but I will tell you what I think:
If the old man has left any money, he has got it hidden up there in the
woods. Let us wait until the boy comes down here and then go for him.”
“It beats the world how everybody seems to think that the old man had
left us some money,” said Jonas, as plainly as a mouthful of cracker
would permit. “Everyone seems to think that the old man had money, and
I believe he had, too. And it all rests with Nat. If he’s found it I
am going to know where it is. Hit him hard, Caleb, and make him go
faster.”
The six miles that lay between them and the village seemed to have
lengthened out wonderfully, but the old horse finally covered the
distance at last and drew up at the place where the boys had crossed
the fence to enter the bushes. There had been somebody through there,
that was plain; but Caleb’s eyes grew wild when he looked at the dark
masses of brush that lay before him; and even Jonas was not quite so
lively as he had been.
“I tell you it is mighty dark in there,” said the elder, getting his
rifle into shape for instant shooting. “Go ahead, Caleb.”
“Now I won’t do it,” said Caleb, seizing his father’s arm and trying to
push him toward the fence. “Give me the gun and I’ll go.”
But that gun was something that Jonas did not want to part with. He
felt safe when he had that weapon, and that was more than could be said
if Caleb had charge of it.
“Well, stay right close behind me and then nobody can hurt you,” said
Jonas, speaking two words for himself and one for Caleb. “Don’t run
away. The best way to fight these ghosts is to--”
“But, pap, you say there isn’t any,” Caleb reminded him.
“Now I don’t believe there is; but it is well to be on the safe side.
Come on, now.”
It was hard work for Jonas to screw up his courage to cross the fence,
but he finally did it at last. As soon as he was safe in the bushes
Caleb scrambled after him.
CHAPTER XIII.
_The Rabbit’s Foot._
Jonas and Caleb found it a hard task to work their way through those
thick bushes toward the back end of Mr. Nickerson’s dooryard. There had
been a path in former times, but it had been used so very seldom of
late that the briers and branches had grown over it until it was pretty
nearly obstructed. Caleb listened for the queer sounds that Peleg had
heard while going through there, but nothing attracted his attention
and he began to believe that there was nothing unusual in there. Jonas
worked his way ahead without saying anything, and finally pushed the
last bush aside and sprang out in full view of Nat’s camp. He cast
his eager eyes around to see if any of the money had been dug up, but
he could see nothing of it. Nat looked just like a hunter who was
enjoying a rest after a long day in the woods.
“Well, sir, we have found you at last,” were the first words Jonas
uttered. “Now where is the money that you have come to dig up?”
“What money?” inquired Nat, slowly rising to his feet.
“Aw! What money?” shouted Jonas, going under the lean-to, catching up
Peleg’s valise and shaking it to be sure that there was no money in it.
“I mean that money you have come here to dig up--the money that old man
Nickerson hid here during the war; the money that you have been drawing
on to buy him tobacco? Where is it?”
“You have the camp and you see everything that is to be seen,” said
Nat. “Where the money is I don’t know. Yes, I do know,” he added to
himself. “But I am going to keep it to myself.”
“Whoo-pee!” said Jonas again. “Did you come down here for nothing? I
know you didn’t; and I must know where that money is and all about it,
or there will be the worst whipped boy here in these woods that you
ever heard tell of. Once more and for the last time, I ask you where it
is.”
“You can just look around and find it for yourself,” replied Nat, who,
by gradually working his way around, had succeeded in getting between
Jonas and the bushes. “If Mr. Nickerson left any money I don’t know
where it is. He would not leave it up here in the woods for it to rot
all away and do nobody any good.”
“No, I don’t think he would do that. He thought too much of a dollar to
waste it in that way; but he could leave it up here in the woods and
tell you where to find it when he was through with it. Now, Nat, where
is it? Tell me, honor bright, and I will give you half of it; I will,
so sure as I stand here.”
“You must look around and find it, for I don’t know where it is,”
replied Nat; and the expression on his face showed that he was in
earnest in his decision to keep the hiding place of the money all to
himself. “If you find it you can have it all.”
“I’ll bet you I do, and you will go without shoes and clothes this
winter,” said Jonas, slipping his hand into his pocket and looking
around at the trees as if he were searching for a switch. “I made you
an offer and you won’t take it, and now I will look for myself; but
first you are going to have something to remember that offer by. What
do you find there, Caleb?”
“There ain’t nothing in Peleg’s valise because I have looked all
through it,” replied Caleb. “But here is something I can’t see into.”
As he spoke he passed the spade over to his father, running his fingers
through some dirt that still adhered to it.
“That spade has been used since it came up here, and if it could speak
it would tell you something about the money,” continued Caleb. “He has
dug it up and hid it away in another place.”
“Caleb, you are right” said Jonas, examining the spade. “Now where is
it? Caleb, you just keep an eye on him while I cut a switch. I will bet
you that he will tell all about it in less’n five minutes.”
“I can’t tell you about a thing that I don’t know,” said Nat.
“No; but you only think you have forgotten. A switch has a big means
of starting one’s intellect, and when you see that swinging over your
head, you will think faster than you do now.”
“Pap, I believe we are onto the track of the money at last,” said
Caleb, who seemed to have forgotten all about the ghosts. “Lay it onto
him good fashion, and we’ll go back home--by gracious! I wouldn’t take
ten dollars for my chance.”
The words seemed to encourage Jonas, who presently pulled down a big
bough and began to cut it loose. It was a large limb, larger than the
one he would have taken to beat his horse with, and while he used his
knife upon it, Caleb slipped around until he got on the outside of Nat,
that is between him and the bushes, and stood regarding him with a
smile of intense satisfaction.
“Don’t hit me with that thing,” said Nat, suddenly straightening up
until he seemed to grow larger and stronger than Caleb had ever seen
him look before. “If you do you will at ways regret it.”
“Oh, no, I won’t hit you with it,” said Jonas, with a sort of laugh
that sounded more like the growl of an enraged animal. “I’ll just wear
you out with it unless you tell me what has been going on here and all
about it. You know where that money is, and I am going to find out
before I let you go. You hear me?”
There was something about Nat that did not look exactly right to Caleb.
He thought that his father had undertaken a bigger job than he could
accomplish by endeavoring to force the boy to tell where his money was
hidden, and if he could work it some way so as to get “upon Nat’s blind
side” and coax him to tell what he wanted to know, why the way would be
so much the easier for them. He resolved to try it, but he did not have
time to try it all.
“Come now, Nat, you see how pap is going to lick you, don’t you?” said
he. “Now tell me where the money is and you will get off scott free.
Come now, Nat. Me and you has always been the best of friends--”
What else Caleb was going to say he did not have time to say it, that
is while he was standing erect. The place on which Nat was standing
was suddenly vacant, Caleb’s left arm received a wrench and his foot
a trip, and both of them sent him headlong into the bushes. A moment
afterward Nat dashed into the bushes and was out of sight in an instant.
“By gum!” said Caleb, slowly raising himself upon his elbow and gazing
in the direction Nat had taken. “Pap, he has got away.”
“_Well!_” exclaimed Jonas, who being concealed from view of the boys
had not seen Nat when he made his bold dash for freedom. “Has he run
away?”
“Yes, sir, he has run away; and he throwed me--”
Jonas came around the tree and found that Nat was not there. He glanced
all around in every direction but the boy he had hoped to try the
switch upon was somewhere else. Caleb was just crawling to his feet.
“And did you stand there and let him go?” demanded Jonas, and he half
raised the switch as if he had a mind to lay it over Caleb’s shoulders.
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
“You might as well try to stop a hurricane as to stop that fellow,”
said Caleb, holding one hand to his elbow. “I never saw a boy go so
before.”
“Well, now, catch him; catch him,” shouted Jonas. “Which way did he go?”
“Out there among the bushes; and pap, I just ain’t a-going in there
after him. Maybe he’ll get those ghosts on his side.”
Jonas, who had been on the point of rushing into the bushes in pursuit
of Nat, stopped when he heard those words and pulled off his hat and
dashed it upon the ground at his feet. Then Caleb saw that his father
was afraid of ghosts as he was himself. It was only his desire to
possess the money that had induced him to come there. Caleb stood
holding fast to his elbow and waiting to see what he was going to do
about it.
“Dog-gone such luck!” said Jonas.
“That’s just what I say,” replied Caleb. “Why did not the old man leave
his money to you or mam like he had oughter do? Now nobody won’t get
it.”
“Nobody except that miserable Nat,” sputtered Jonas. “I have a good
notion to use the switch on you for letting him go.”
“Well, pap, you would not make anything by that. I was talking to him
like a Dutch uncle, and the first thing I knew I was flat on my back,
and he was just going out of sight. I did not hear anything of him from
the time he struck the bushes. Do you hear him now?”
Jonas listened but all the sound he heard was the chirping of birds and
the faint sough of the wind as the breeze swept through the bushes.
Everything was as still as a graveyard; it seemed too still for the
woods. Jonas listened for a moment and then gathered up his hat and put
it on his head.
“Let’s go home,” whispered Caleb. “This ain’t no place for us.”
“That’s just what I was thinking of,” said Jonas, in the same cautious
whisper. “Let’s take everything he has got in his lean-to and dig out.
We shall have to hurry because it will be dark before we reach home.”
“I don’t believe in taking Peleg’s valise and gun back to him,”
observed Caleb. “He brought them out here and he can take them back.”
“Well, that is so,” said Jonas, who was busy picking up the spade and
pick-ax and such provisions as he could find. “But in the present
opportunity we want Peleg and his pap to believe that we were here. We
have got a fearful story to tell when we go back, and we want them to
believe us.”
“That is so, too; but, pap, we won’t go back through the bushes, will
we?”
“Not much we won’t,” exclaimed Jonas, as if he were surprised at the
mere mention of such a thing. “Nat’s in there, and who knows but what
he has got some of the ghosts to help him along?”
“I’ll bet you that is just what he did,” said Caleb, dropping the
armful of things which he had gathered up. “I did not hear hide nor
hair of him after he got into the bushes.”
Father and son were not long in picking up the things that were
scattered about the lean-to (they did not find the ax because that
was concealed in the bushes), and with them in their hands they beat
a hasty retreat from the camp, following the course that Peleg had
pursued when he was there on a former occasion. They reached the bars,
stopping now and then to cast furtive glances behind them, and when
they got fairly into the road their courage began to return to them.
“I will tell you just what is the matter with us,” said Jonas. “We have
not got a rabbit’s foot between us.”
“I do think in my soul that that’s what’s the matter,” said Caleb,
stopping short and looking at his father. “Do you reckon that Nat has
one of them?”
Now a rabbit’s foot is something that is held in high esteem by the
negroes at the South, and by some of the white people, too. Whenever
you kill a rabbit, take one of the feet off and put it into your
pocket; or, if you are already provided for in that respect, take the
foot and give it to some one who has not got any. Thus equipped you are
free from every danger. Ghosts can not disturb you, and if you have to
pass a graveyard or a house that is haunted after dark, it will see you
safely through. Beyond a doubt this was what was the matter with Jonas
and his son. They had thought of their rabbit’s feet when it was too
late to be of service to them. They were kept at home on the mantle
piece, snugly stowed away so that they could be seized at a moment’s
warning, and they had come away and never thought a word about them.
“Now did anybody ever hear of such luck?” said Jonas, in disgust. “I
have a rabbit’s foot and so have you; and by leaving them at home is
what has beaten us. We will go down there to-morrow or next day and see
what luck we shall have.”
“Do you reckon that Nat has one of them!” repeated Caleb, who was
greatly relieved to know what it was that had brought them such ill
luck. “Of course he had, or he never could have called upon them ghosts
to help him.”
“Dog-gone such luck,” repeated Jonas, who kept turning this matter over
in his mind. “He wouldn’t go away and leave his rabbit’s foot behind
when he was engaged in such business, would he? I tell you I am going
to keep it in my pocket wherever I go. It ain’t safe to be without it.”
It was a long way by the road to the place where they had left their
horse, and every step of the way they looked at the bushes fearful that
Nat would come out at them accompanied by one or more of the ghosts.
When they reached the wagon Jonas climbed in without any words, leaving
Caleb to turn the horse around, and to take care of his rifle which he
hastily handed to him.
“I think I will drive going back,” said he, “He is going toward home
now, and perhaps I can make him step pearter than you did.”
Caleb saw through his father’s little trick, but he gave in to it
without saying a word. He was going to have the handling of the rifle
now, and he breathed a good deal easier as he clutched the weapon and
seated himself on the seat beside Jonas. He did not care if Nat had
three or four ghosts to back him up. He was a sure shot with a gun, and
he was certain that there would be one ghost less in the country should
one show himself.
The old horse stepped out wonderfully under the new driver, and it was
not long before Jonas’s courage all came back to him and he could talk
about what happened there in Mr. Nickerson’s dooryard without shouting
himself hoarse.
“That there is what’s the matter with us, Caleb,” said he, turning on
his seat and greeting him with an approving wink. “It beats the world,
as long as I have lived in this country, that I did not think of that
rabbit’s foot before I left home. But we will try them again some
day--”
“It has got to be pretty soon too, pap,” interrupted Caleb. “Nat has
seen that money already. He has got it hidden somewhere else.”
“I believe you are right,” said Jonas, “or else how come that dirt
on his spade? And to think we had to give it up just on account of
not having that rabbit’s foot! These little things sometimes make big
changes in our affairs, Caleb?”
Caleb must have thought of this matter all the way home, but he
breathed a little easier when the ancestral roof came in sight. His
mother was there and she came down to the bars to lower them. As the
tired old horse entered the yard she looked at Jonas, but the latter
shook his head in a most discouraging manner.
“I just knew how it would be,” said she.
“And just on account of leaving that rabbit’s foot behind,” said Caleb.
“I noticed them, and I had a good notion to holler at you and tell you
to take them with you,” said Mrs. Keeler. “But I supposed that you
knew what you were doing.”
None of the family said anything more until they had got to the barn
and turned the horse out, and fed him with a handful of grass, and then
Jonas seated himself on a bucket, which he turned upside down, and
gave his wife a full history of the events that had happened to them
since they went away in the morning; that is he had the groundwork of
truth for its foundation, but there was many a little item which he
put in that occurred to him as he went along. Whenever he touched upon
anything which his wife found it hard to believe, he always appealed to
Caleb, and the latter never failed to corroborate all he said.
“And do you think that he got those spirits to help him when he went
into the bushes?” asked Mrs. Keeler.
“He did; else why didn’t he make some noise while he was going through
them?” asked Jonas, in reply. “He went along as still as a bird on the
wing. It was of no use for anybody to try to follow him. Well, that
is once we failed, but the next time we will fight him with his own
weapons. Caleb, don’t you forget those two rabbits’ feet the next time
we go.”
“You bet I won’t,” replied Caleb.
CHAPTER XIV.
_The Storekeeper in Action._
Nat’s heart was in his month because he did not believe he could escape
from Jonas, and Caleb so easily. The noise he necessarily made in
running through the bushes would naturally guide them in the pursuit,
and Jonas was noted for his lightness of foot, and Caleb also, for that
matter. But it was now or never. The switch was being prepared for him,
and in a few minutes more he would feel the full weight of Jonas’s arm;
and that it would fall by all his strength, Nat did not doubt in the
least.
“Here goes,” said Nat, to himself. “If I fail they can’t any more than
whip me, and if I get away--”
Nat did not wait to finish all the sentence that was in his mind. He
bounded from his place as if he had been set upon springs, a short
skirmish with Caleb who was overturned as easily as a child, and he was
safe in the bushes which closed up behind him, and the twigs in his
path seemed to give away before him on their own accord. He ran down
the path with all the speed he could command, jumped as far to the left
as he could and stretched himself out flat on the ground and waited to
see what was going to happen. By the merest accident he lay down not
ten feet from his camp, and consequently he was within full hearing of
their voices while they remained there.
“By gum!” said Caleb, slowly, as he picked himself up from the bushes
into which he had been thrown. “Pap, he has got away.”
He heard Jonas when he came around the trees and knew when he raised
the switch intending to use it on Caleb for not keeping guard over Nat.
He listened in the hope that Caleb would feel the full force of that
switch, for he had a long account against him and he did not think that
any blow he could have received would have been amiss.
“He has got my shoes,” said Nat to himself, and it was all that he
could do to refrain from speaking the words outright. “Give him a few
good licks to pay him for that.”
But we know that Jonas did not use the switch upon Caleb, but talked
with him about other matters. He knew when they examined the spade
again to find the dirt upon it, but all thoughts that they would pursue
him were turned into another channel by Caleb’s request: “Let us go
home. This is no place for us.” But there was another fear that came
over him just then. They were going home, but they intended to remove
everything there was in his camp, provisions and all, and leave Nat to
get along as best he could.
“Never mind; I’ve got my money in my hat,” said Nat, pulling off the
article in question and feeling of his roll of bills. “And even if he
robs me, what harm will it do? I have some more money stowed away, and
it is where nobody can find it.”
Nat lay there in his concealment and waited patiently for Jonas and
Caleb to get through with picking up the articles they wanted to take
with them and leave the camp. He knew they would not come back through
the bushes, but would go across the field and so steer clear of them.
He drew a long breath of relief, and finally raised himself upon his
knees as they passed out of the ravine, but still he did not think it
wise to show himself until the creaking of wheels, loudly proclaiming
their need of wagon grease, was heard, slowly at first, then increasing
in volume as the horse responded to the whip, and when it had died
away entirely he got upon his feet and made his way back to the camp.
Everything that could have been of use to him had disappeared.
“Now the next thing will be something else and what shall it be?” said
Nat, throwing himself upon his bed of boughs and turning the matter
over in his mind. “I can’t live without something to eat--that is plain
enough to be seen; and I don’t know about going down to Manchester for
more grub. Of course somebody there saw Jonas when he came through, and
what kind of an excuse will I make for coming back there after more
provisions! I have told so many lies lately that I want to keep out of
it now, if I can.”
For ten minutes Nat laid there trying to make up his mind what to do,
and then got up prepared for action. He wanted to see where he had
left his money, and then he would go on to Manchester and be governed
by circumstances. If Jonas had not stopped there to converse upon his
object of going to old man Nickerson’s fields, well and good. He would
purchase some new clothes, the first he had ever owned, enough crackers
and cheese to last him on his way to St Louis, come back to his camp
after dark, secure his money, and then the place which had known him so
long would know him no more forever. When be was away among strangers
and nobody knew who he was, he would be ready to begin his life over
again.
“That is what I will do,” said Nat, wending his way up the hill. “My
first thing must be to get some new clothes, or when I come to put that
money in the bank they will think right away that I have stolen it,
and there will be more trouble for me. I should not dare to send for
anyone here to prove who I am, for they would turn me out the biggest
rascal upon earth, so that they could get the money; so what should I
do? By George! I am not out of trouble yet.”
In a few minutes Nat arrived beside the log under which he had buried
Mr. Nickerson’s money, or rather he called it his own money now, and
everything looked just as it did when he left there. No one had been
near it. He threw some more bushes over the place, kicked some leaves
around it and then set out for Manchester. He felt his responsibility
and it is not right to say that he carried a light heart beneath his
jacket, for he did not. He began to see that there was a big difference
in wishing for money and having it. He found that it was some trouble
to take care of his treasure.
He shortly reached the road near the spot where Jonas and Caleb had
left their horse, but there was no one in sight. He climbed over the
fence and kept on his way, looking neither to the right hand nor the
left, so impatient was he to reach his journey’s end, and finally he
stood in the store where he had been several times before; but he did
not know what those two men in the back part of the store were talking
about. They looked up as Nat entered, and instantly a smile overspread
their faces and one of them hastened forward to greet him.
“Well, if here ain’t that smart looking boy again I don’t want a cent,”
said he, and he was so pleased to see Nat that he laughed all over.
“Say, Jonas and Caleb have just been here, and I would like to know
what made them leave in such a hurry. They did not see any ghosts, did
they!”
“No,” said Nat, in disgust. “Have you been treating them to some
stories, too? They left some work to do back at home, and went there to
attend to it. You scared one fellow out but you can’t scare me out.”
“I never was so sorry for anything in my life,” said the man. “I saw
that Peleg could be easily frightened, and so I started that ghost
story on him.”
“Have you got anything to eat in the store?” asked Nat, who did not
want to talk about the ghosts any more. “They took away all the
provisions I had.”
“Of course we have,” said the man briskly. “What do you want? Say. Did
you find that money you were looking for?”
“What money?” asked Nat, in surprise.
“Oh, come Nat, there is no use of your trying to play off on us in that
style,” said the storekeeper; and there was just a shade that darkened
his brow as if he were getting angry. “You went up there to dig up some
money, didn’t you, now?”
“I wish you would give me those provisions and let me go along back,”
said Nat, who did not much like the way the man eyed him. “I don’t know
anything about any money.”
“See here, Nat,” whispered the man, putting his face close to the boy’s
ear and holding his arm, “if you will tell me where that money is--”
“I tell you I don’t know anything about it,” declared Nat, pulling away
from the man’s grasp. “If you don’t want to sell me some grub, I will
go elsewhere.”
“Come with me; I want to see you,” whispered the storekeeper, retaining
his hold upon Nat’s arm and drawing him toward a side door.
“Say what you have got to say right here,” said Nat. “There is no
secret about it. I dug up no money while I was there, and I don’t care
who knows it.”
“But I don’t want that everybody should know what I am going to say to
you,” urged the man; and as if to add emphasis to his words he seized
the boy with both hands, fairly lifted him from the floor, carried him
through the side door which closed behind him. “Now will you listen to
what I have to say to you?” he added, with a wicked glitter in his eye.
“I have got you now, and here you are going to stay as long as I want
you.”
At this moment the door opened and the customer came in. He, too, was
in the plot if such it could be called, for he evinced no surprise at
what he saw.
“Is the way all clear?” asked the storekeeper.
“Yes; there is no one on the streets,” replied the customer. “Now what
be you going to do with him?”
“We’ll take him back in the storeroom and shut him up there,” was the
answer. “What do you think of that, my boy? There you will wait until
you are ready to reply to such questions as I ask you, with a big
bull dog to keep an eye on you. If you try to get out there won’t be
anything left of you in the morning.”
While the man was talking in this way he was dragging rather than
leading Nat toward the back part of the store, and at last halted in
front of a door where he released him, and began searching in his
pockets to find the key. It was dark in there, owing to the fact that
there were no windows to let in light upon the scene, and when he found
the key and inserted it into the lock, a growl followed by a deep-toned
bark came from the inside. The animal that uttered it must have been
fierce; that was easy enough to be seen.
“Now you see what you’ll get if you try to get away,” said the
storekeeper, throwing open the door. “I reckon you will think twice
before you come any of your tricks on Benny; hey, old dog.”
Nat’s heart seemed to stop beating. If there was anything in the
world that he was afraid of it was a savage dog. He looked at Benny,
and rightly concluded that “he would not come any of his tricks” on
that beast. He was the worst looking dog that Nat had ever seen. He
was small, but he had an immense head, and his under jaw stuck out so
that his teeth could be plainly seen. He was yellow all over except
his head, which was as black as if he had been painted, and he was
bob-tailed. He did not appear to be gratified by this intrusion at all.
He would hardly get out of his way when the man pushed him aside and
pointed to a box and told Nat to sit down there.
“I tell you I don’t know anything about that money,” said Nat, who was
quite alarmed at the idea of being shut in that room over night with
such a dog for a companion. “I will go up there with you and help you
dig for it; that is if you think it is in the ground.”
“Of course we know it is in the ground or else you wouldn’t need a
spade and pick-ax to throw it out with,” answered the storekeeper. “You
tell us where it is, and let us go up and dig for it.”
“I can’t tell you for I don’t know;” said Nat.
“Very well; then you can stay here until you find out,” said the man,
fiercely. “When you get so hungry and thirsty that you can’t stand it
any longer, you just yell and I will be around. Will you tell us?”
“I have already answered your question until I am tired of it,” said
Nat, seating himself on the box, with a determined look on his face.
“If I stay here until I die you won’t get anything else out of me.”
“Well, good-by,” said the man, moving toward the door. “We are going up
right now to look for it, and when we come back, perhaps we will tell
you how much we have made. Watch him, Benny. Keep an eye on him, and if
he goes near that window, just take him down and serve him the way you
did that burglar that got into the store last week.”
With this parting advice to his dog the storekeeper went out followed
by his customer, and Nat heard the key as it grated harshly in the
lock. He sat perfectly still, he was afraid to do otherwise, for, now
that his eyes became somewhat accustomed to the darkness, he could
see that the dog kept his position beside the door, and seemed to be
awaiting some move on his part. Once or twice he licked his huge jaw as
if he were tired of waiting.
“Well, sir, I am in for it now,” said Nat, running his eye along the
wall as if he were looking for that window of which the storekeeper
had spoken. “I would not be safer if I were shut up in jail. That
dog--Whew! I don’t want anything to do with him.”
The dog evidently knew what opinion Nat cherished toward him, for after
waiting in vain for him to make some advances, he came over to Nat and
laid his chin upon his knee. Nat could hardly keep from yelling when
he saw the dog advancing toward him, but when he reached the boy and
worked his nose as if he were trying to place his hand upon his head,
his heart gave a thrill of delight.
“Well, by gum!” said Nat, unconsciously making use of the same
expression that Caleb had used when Nat threw him headlong into the
bushes. “I believe the dog is friendly;” and he raised his hand and
placed it on the dog’s head.
Nat had never been more astonished in his life. The dog’s appearance
was against him; but that was as far as it went. He was a good, honest
dog in reality, and seemed to sympathize with Nat in his trouble.
“Benny, good Benny; I believe you are a good dog yet,” said Nat,
reaching down and patting the animal on the side. Benny not only
submitted to it, but when he saw that Nat was about to stop he worked
his nose again as if he meant him to continue. “I believe now that I
will try that window,” said Nat, a bright idea striking him. “Since
Benny is all right if I sit here, he will be all right if I move
around.”
Nat had by this time located the window, and he arose from his box and
moved toward it as though he had a perfect right there. Benny moved
with him, and did not raise any objections when Nat seized the staple
with which the window was fastened and exerted his strength to open
it. It was a heavy window, and was doubtless used for passing in and
out bulky goods that would take up too much room in the store; but it
yielded to Nat’s muscle at last, and by pushing it open a little way he
let a flood of light into his prison and could also see what there was
outside. He found that the opening gave entrance into a kind of stable
yard, bounded by a shed on one side, and by pushing it open a little
more, he saw that on the other side it ran down to the street. His
escape was now only the question of a few minutes had he cared to leave
at this time.
“Glory!” whispered Nat, closing and fastening the shutter and stooping
down to caress Benny. “I dare not try it now, for fear that that
storekeeper may be on the watch; but when it comes dark, we won’t stay
in this house any longer. Hail! Columbia happy land!”
Nat now felt at ease. He pulled off his hat, felt of his roll of
bills and then began to pat the dog and talk to him. He had certainly
determined on one thing and that was to take the dog with him. He had
some money, how much he did not know, and it would be the source of
immense relief to him to know that he had someone whose looks would
help him through.
“I will bet that there won’t be anybody pitch into me to see what I
have got with me, if he only takes one look at you,” said Nat, stroking
the dog’s head. “I never had a dog take up with me this way before. I
tell you, Benny, you came in just right.”
It must have been two o’clock by the time Nat was shut up in that
room, so he had six or seven hours of waiting to go through before the
storekeeper would come around again to see how he felt over telling him
where he had left that money. There was one thing about it: He would
not tell him; he would die first He kept repeating this resolution over
and over again until the sun went down, and it began to grow so dark in
his prison that he could not see his hand before him. An hour passed,
and then a key rattled in the lock, the dog gave one of his tremendous
barks and took his stand in front of the door, which presently opened
admitting somebody, it was so dark that he could not see a single
feature on him. But it was the storekeeper. He knew him as soon as he
spoke.
CHAPTER XV.
_Nat Wood, Gentleman._
“Hi there!” exclaimed the storekeeper, as he threw open the door and
stepped over threshold. “Keeping watch over him yet, ain’t you, Benny?
I told you it wouldn’t be safe for you to try to get away. Yes, here’s
some supper for you, Benny. Nat can’t have any until he gets ready to
talk to me. How do you come on, Nat?”
“About as comfortably as I can, kept here in the dark and with a savage
dog for a companion,” said Nat. “I wish you would take me out where it
is a little lighter.”
“I could not possibly think of it,” said the man, with a laugh. “You
think you are smart, don’t you! We know where that money was hidden,
and we have been up there and got it.”
It was lucky for Nat that the storekeeper had come in there without a
light, for the way these words were spoken fairly took his breath away.
This was something that he had not bargained for. He settled back on
his box trying to find something to lean against, and could not say
anything to save his life.
“What do you say to that, my boy?” asked the man. “You did not know
that we could find that money without asking you, did you?”
“Where--where did you find it?” stammered Nat, suppressing his
excitement, and it was all he could do to utter the words.
“Oh, we found it under a tree where the old man had left it,” said the
storekeeper, carelessly. “I tell you he must have gone down deep, for
we dug a trench there that was as deep as we were.”
Nat straightened up again and drew a long breath. If the storekeeper
told the truth, he had not yet found the money. He had not dug in the
place where it was concealed in the first instance, because he did not
say anything about the stone which needed a lever to pry it out of its
bed.
“Well, you have done more than I could do,” said he, after thinking a
moment. “You have the money--How much did you get?”
“Oh, about fifteen or twenty thousand dollars,” replied the man. “We
were in such a hurry that we didn’t stop to count it. But we have
enough to keep us without work as long as we live.”
“Now what is to hinder you from turning me loose?” asked Nat “I can’t
do you any more good by staying here.”
“I forgot to speak about that to my pardner,” said the man, who was
taken all aback by this proposition. “And he has gone away and I shan’t
see him for a week.”
“And are you going to keep me here all that time?”
“We might as well. You see we don’t want you to go up and tell Jonas
and Caleb about this thing, for they might make us trouble.”
“I’ll promise you that I shall not go near Jonas and Caleb. I want to
get as far away from Manchester as I can. You might give me something
to eat, any way.”
“Well, I will see what my pardner says about it. If you keep still--”
“Why, your partner has gone away,” said Nat.
“I mean when he comes back. It won’t take you long to stay here a week.
Now if you keep still--”
“Are you going to keep me a whole week without anything to eat?” asked
Nat, in surprise. “I can’t possibly live as long as that.”
“Maybe my pardner has not gone yet, and I can speak to him. Now if you
keep still, that dog would not pester you; but if you get up and go to
roaming around, he’ll pin you. Then you won’t tell me where the money
is--humph!”
This was another evidence that the man had not been near the place
where the money was supposed to be hidden. He came pretty near letting
the cat out of the bag that time. Nat did not say a word in reply. He
wanted the man to believe that he put faith in his story.
“Well, good-by. I shall not be in here before to-morrow morning; and if
you have anything to say to me--”
“What have I got to say? You have found the money, and what more do you
want?”
The man muttered something under his breath that sounded a good deal
like an oath by the time it got to Nat’s ears, turned on his heel and
walked out, slamming the door after him. Nat waited until the sound of
his footsteps had died away, then threw himself back on his box and
laughed silently to himself.