WHAT THE SABBATH BROUGHT
"Now I know how it was that Antonio disappeared that time when Aunt
Sally and Ephraim heard him outside the pantry window!" cried Jessica,
exultingly; and seeing the gentleman's puzzled expression, told of the
scene within the cold closet and of the mocking answer "Forty-niner"
had received, when he said he was determined to find out Antonio's
retreat. Then she bade her friend stoop again and see for himself how
easy it was for one at the rear of the house, where the pantry was, to
slip into this cactus tunnel and be utterly hidden from anybody who
would search from that side.
They saw, also, that the broken branches had been thrown under the
open foundation of the kitchen, leaving no sign of the ruin that had
been done.
"A clever scamp, indeed! And any other sort of plant would have
withered at the top and led to discovery. But not this; for the
verdure has evidently long been gone from this part of the hedge,"
observed Ninian.
"Oh, yes! This end has been dead for a great while, yet my mother
would not have it removed. It would have lasted maybe forever in just
that way; and Antonio knew how we prized it. Oh, dear! I do believe he
is as wicked as the 'boys' say, though I hate to think that of
anybody." "Surely, you have had proof enough of his evil doings, even
without these later fantastic developments. You must never trust that
man, little girl, should he again try to make you."
"I think he won't bother me. Why should he?" asked she, in some
surprise, for her friend's tone had been most impressive. "Why should
you imagine that?"
"I don't know myself, exactly why. It just 'happened' into my head. By
the way, captain, did you send me all of the specimen of copper that
you had?"
"Oh, no, indeed! My mother thought best not. We sent you only a little
bit, cut from the larger one Pedro dug. Let's go into the office and
I'll open the safe and show you the rest. Do you know anything about
such mines and stuff?"
"I do know something about ores and minerals, my dear, for before I
was a newspaper man I was a clerk in the office of an expert in such
matters. I should greatly like to see your sample," he answered,
readily.
So she led the way at once and took the key from a desk drawer, which
anybody might have opened, and Ninian remarked:
"What an insecure place for a safe key! Yours is certainly a most
confiding household."
"Oh, it's not a very safe safe, anyway," she answered, laughing; "and
who would want to open it? It's Ephraim's really, though I don't think
he's ever been near it since he came home. Isn't it a great, clumsy
key? But my father told me that there are safes much, much larger and
stronger than this which are opened by very small keys. Odd, isn't
it?" As she spoke she was down upon her knees in front of the strong
box and trying with all her small strength to turn the lock; and after
watching her for a moment the reporter laughed, and suggested:
"Suppose you just merely pull at the knob. It looks to me as if the
thing were already opened, for the door isn't tight; or is that
protruding edge of it a part of the general crudeness?"
Jessica obeyed, pulling with such unnecessary force that the safe flew
open and he fell backward, laughing.
But Mr. Sharp did not laugh. In view of what had been told him he was
afraid the thing had been tampered with, and watched in silence while
the little girl thrust her hand into the safe and felt all about, her
face lengthening as she did so; but again, suddenly brightening, when
she exclaimed:
"Oh, my mother must have done that! There was all the money in here
that was left after Elsa got her own share. The first nights two of
the 'boys' slept in the house to watch, 'cause mother was afraid we
might lose it again. Then, since 'Forty-niner' got home only he has
slept here, and he generally 'bunks' on the lounge in this very
office. That's what it is, what it must be. My mother has worried
about Antonio, and has taken the money and the piece of copper away
and put them somewhere else. Well, never mind. She'll show it to you
as soon as she comes back; and now, what shall we do next? Would you
like to ride?"
Ninian passed his hand across his brow in mild perplexity. An instant
conviction had seized him that here was another feature of the
mysteries pervading this peaceful ranch; and though he as instantly
frowned upon his own suspicion, it would remain to torment him.
However, he said nothing further to disturb Jessica's composure, and
readily agreed that a ride would be delightful, though he added,
grimly:
"I'm so lame and stiff already from yesterday's horseback exercise
that I feel older than Ephraim. I expect a 'hair of the same dog' is
the best cure, and wish now I had made time, back there in town, to
get used to a saddle. I never found it convenient, though, and poor
Nimrod missed his outings even more than I did, I fancy. It certainly
is a glorious day for a canter, as almost all our days are."
"It's nice, too, when the rains come. We do things indoors then
that we never do all the rest of the year. My mother plays and sings
half the time, 'cause then she can't go poking around all over the
ranch, like she does now. In the evenings the 'boys' all come in and
tell stories or do their best to amuse us. We were always happiest,
too, when Pedro came, and when my father was here he coaxed him
and he came often. Now--he'll never come again!" she finished, with
an irrepressible burst of grief, which she as quickly suppressed,
for she saw that it saddened her guest as well; and she had been
reared in the spirit of hospitality that makes the stranger glad
even at the cost of one's own impulses.
So she added, with a smile that seemed all the brighter because of the
tears still glistening on her long lashes:
"I'll bring you some books out here and you can rest in the hammock
while I run and have the horses saddled. Buster isn't as fast as
Nimrod, but he'll go now and then as if he were a colt. I hope this
will be one of his fast times, don't you? I love to ride fast!"
Ninian smiled rather grimly, answering:
"Just at present, from the state of my poor muscles, I fancy I'd
prefer a gait as slow as Buster's ordinary one. But if I stay the week
out, I mean to learn a thing or two about that fine beast of mine."
"A week or two! Why, you're to be here till after Christmas, anyway,
and that's a fortnight off. I wish--oh, I wish you would live here
always!"
From his delightful resting place in a hammock that was "stretched
just right," and which commanded one of the loveliest views in the
world, he looked afield and wished so too. Fond as he was of his own
active city life, this broad outlook appealed to him most strongly;
yet he shook off the longing that assailed him to pass his days in the
country and opened the book Jessica had brought. He was soon absorbed
in its pages and forgot the errand upon which the child had gone,
till, after a long time, as it proved, Ned stole bashfully up and
pushed a scrap of paper into his down-hanging hand.
"Hello, youngster!" cried the gentleman, sitting up. "What's this?"
The child's timidity banished at the first sound of the visitor's
voice. Mr. Sharp reading, with his spectacles on, and Mr. Sharp
speaking in that hail-fellow-well-met manner were two different
people. Besides that, Ned's shyness was not his strongest feature,
though it cropped out now and then to the astonishment of his family.
Also, he was fresh from the hands of Aunt Sally and his catechism
lesson, into which she had adroitly forced a hint of the conduct due
toward a "wise man, that can write printin'." Supposing it to be a
production of the little fellow's own, Mr. Sharp delayed the reading
of the crumpled epistle he had received and continued his talk with
its bearer; who presently forgot his Sunday manners, and reproachfully
demanded that "printing press you promised."
"'Cause if I had it I'd be just as smart as you, you know."
"Smartersyou!" cried the echo, clasping Ned's neck with that choking
affection of his.
Ned turned upon his other self and pummeled him well, declaring:
"No, you wouldn't neither, Luis Garcia! 'Twouldn't be your printing
press, and you can't spell cat backwards! So, there!"
"Cat backwards, dogboycat," gurgled Luis, in a rapture of mere
existence.
Ninian laughed at the comical pair, finding them infinitely diverting;
and was only brought back to his immediate duty by the insistence of
the small messenger, who demanded:
"Why don't you read your letter? I should think anybody what makes
newspapers could read a little girl's letter."
"That's a fact; I'll see if I can;" and accordingly spread out the
scrap of wrapping paper, which had not been very smooth to start with
and had suffered further ill treatment at Ned's hand. The note
required a second reading before he could fully comprehend its
meaning, which he then found sufficiently startling to send him
stableward in hot haste. The message was from the little captain, and
was worded thus:
"dear mister sharp please excuse me i must go to a Dyeing man and i
Mustnt Tell Who cause if my mother was Home I Wood and she wood say
yes. She always helps dyeing folks and sick ones one the boys will go
and he can ride Moses or prince Which he likes. I guess marty so i
Cant right any more the paper is so littul and i cant Stay."
"JESSICA."
This had been written with a coarse blue pencil, evidently picked up
in the stable or workroom; and to the reporter's inquiries, put to the
first ranchman he met, there seemed no satisfactory answer. The man in
question had not seen Jessica since service, and the men's quarters to
which Ninian hurried, were almost deserted. Sunday was their own, so
the "boys" spent much of it afield, hunting or visiting on neighboring
ranches. Yet a further search revealed John Benton, in his own room,
reading; and to him the visitor again put the question of Jessica's
probable whereabouts, and showed the letter.
The carpenter was on his feet instantly, a look of apprehension
deepening the lines of his earnest face; and running to the door he
shouted to a stable boy who was crossing the space before the old
adobes:
"Natan! Natan!"
The youth paused, hesitated, yet came no nearer; and John repeated his
summons, with an imperative "Here!" Then muttered an explanation to
the reporter: "Another of those no-account Greasers; same kind as the
Bernals and hired by top-lofty when, he was in charge. Works well
enough but----"
By this time Natan had slouched forward and stood stolidly awaiting an
expected as well as merited reproof, because of stalls imperfectly
cleaned and harnesses left in other than their own places; for John
was orderly to the last degree and a very martinet in disciplining his
subordinates. However, it was no neglect of duty that was now to be
scored, but a question was fairly hurled at the young groom and in a
voice sharp with anxiety:
"Natan, did you saddle Buster just now?"
"But yes," answered the lad, greatly relieved.
"Where is he? And Nimrod?"
"Nimrod is at the 'house' horse block, is it not? Si. Groomed to the
highest, and a beauty we're all glad to see back where he belongs."
"Your opinion wasn't asked. Where is Buster?"
"Where the captain wills. I know not, I," with a shrug of his lean
shoulders.
"Did she mount him?"
"Why else should he be saddled, no?" returned the groom, with an
insolent laugh.
John's temper flamed and he turned away with a disgusted snort,
meaning to seek information elsewhere on a case he felt permitted no
delay. But Ninian was cooler, if equally suspicious that Natan was
concealing something that should be known; so, laying his hand not
unkindly upon the youth's shoulder, he said:
"If you know anything of this, where Miss Jessica has gone and with
whom, or if alone, it will be worth your while to tell me and at once.
I'm pretty good pay for seasonable articles," he finished, in his
journalistic manner.
He had taken a dollar from his pocket and was carelessly tossing it
from hand to hand, nor was he disappointed when Natan fixed his black
eyes greedily upon the coin. Still the lad said nothing, only
pondered in his own dull mind which of two masters it would benefit
him most to serve; and annoyed by this hesitation, Ninian hazarded a
guess:
"Oh, well, if you prefer to work for Antonio Bernal, it's all one to
me."
Natan's mouth flew open and his eyes grew wild:
"You know it, then, already, you?"
"I know many things," was the sententious answer.
"But it is a pity, yes. The so fine man and such a rider. He will ride
no more, poor Antonio, si."
Ninian's blood ran chill, yet he asked, still quietly, though
foreseeing evil he dared not contemplate:
"Who brought the word?"
"Ferd, the dwarf," came the reply, as the dollar exchanged owners.