BUMPUS CALLS FOR THREE CHEERS.
THE mountaineer was the first to speak.
"'Pears like I was interruptin' a leetle fambly reunion," he remarked,
drily.
At any rate, Thad noticed, there did not seem to be any great show of
anger in the actions or words of the man. Nor was he leveling that
terrible gun, which had doubtless brought consternation into the hearts
of more than one invading group of revenue officers in times past.
Indeed, Thad was rather inclined to think Old Phin looked remarkably
docile, as though his claws had been pulled, and he no longer felt that
the whole world was against him.
Mr. Quail, however, did not see things in this way. He was not aware of
the great change that had come about in the Dady family, that threatened
to remove from the Blue Ridge the most remarkable and picturesque figure
the region had ever known.
"I'm ready to make that promise you once put before me, Phin!" he cried
out, as if secretly fearing that harm might fall upon the head of his
venturesome boy, because of his braving the moonshiner's wrath by
searching out the secret Still.
"Hit's too late fur thet, Mistah Quail!" declared the other grimly.
"But surely you wouldn't think of changing your mind now?" said the
prisoner.
"Thet's jest what I done, suh," answered Phin. "Polly, I'se noticin' as
how yuh brung them byes up hyah tuh the old Still. Reckons as how yuh
never'd dared do thet same on'y foh what's cum ter pass."
"Reckons as how I wudn't, dad," replied the girl; who, somehow, did not
seem to display any particular fear of the stern parent, such as might
have been expected under the circumstances.
"Are you going to let me go free, Phin Dady?" demanded the prisoner,
hoarsely.
For answer the moonshiner stepped forward, and with a key he produced,
released the iron that had been fastened about the ankle of the one-time
revenue marshal.
"I give you the promise you wanted, Phin, and never will I tell a living
soul where the hiding-place of your Still lies," Mr. Quail declared,
trying to conceal his emotion as a brave man might.
"Thet's good o' ye, Mistah Quail," remarked the other, with one of his
dry chuckles that somehow Thad liked to hear.
"And more than that, Phin," continued the other, earnestly, "I agree
never again to enter these mountains in search of the men who live here,
and who believe they have a right to make this moonshine stuff as they
please, whether the authorities down in Washington let them or not. I've
resigned as a marshal, Phin. You and your friends will never have to
think of me again as an enemy. And I suppose then that the curious
public will never get the sight of this famous Still of yours, that I
boasted they would."
"Thet's whar yuh makes a mistake, suh," said the old man, with a wide
grin. "I reckons now as it's a gwine to be ther trade mark ter be used
on ther bottles. I be'n tole thet it ort ter help make sales, w'en they
knows the new medicine, made outen roots an' yarbs got in ther
mountings, an' wich cures all kinds o' shakes an' chills like magic, is
manufactured in ther same old Still as Phin Dady cooked moonshine stuff
foh nigh on ten hull yeahs."
"What's that?" exclaimed the late prisoner, while Polly laughed softly,
like one who sees a new life opening up before her.
Thad began to see glimpses of light. He remembered the strange words
used by the girl from time to time. Yes, there _had_ a change taken
place; things were never going to be the same as they had been in the
past. Accident had opened the eyes of the old mountaineer, and he had
discovered a way to make money, with the Government for, not against
him.
"W'y, yuh see," he began, rather clumsily; when Polly took the words
from his mouth, being so full of the subject that she just could not
hold in.
"He used ter make up a kind o' medicine w'enever we gut ther shakes, an'
it did the bizness the slickest yuh ever did see, suh," she started to
say. "Thar was a man as kim erlong heah, an' heerd 'bout hit. So he sez
as how he'd like ter take a bottle erlong, and hev it tested. W'ich they
done, an' writ as how it was sich a wonder thet p'raps dad, he cud
supply ther trade. An' on'y yist'day he done gits a letter, suh, as
binds ther bargain. Old Phin, he ain't agwine tuh make moonshine no
moah. We's ameanin' tuh go tuh town, jest as soon's we heahs from ther
people in Washington, as these drug men hes gone ter see. Yuh know hit
wudn't be nice if they sot on my dad as soon as he showed up, an' locked
him in prison, 'case as how he use ter make mounting dew on ther sly."
Crudely expressed as it was, Thad understood the whole story now. It
fairly took his breath away, it was so strange. To think of this gaunt
old mountaineer having discovered a medicine that was going to prove as
great a benefit to mankind as the stuff he had been hitherto
manufacturing was a curse! It was almost too wonderful for belief.
"Do you mean that the gentlemen who mean to handle the product of your
Still in the future are trying to get the authorities to wipe all the
past off the slate, and let your father start fresh?" asked Mr. Quail.
"Thems erbout hit, suh," Polly replied, nodding her head. "Hand we-uns
'spect ter live in town arter this, whar p'raps I kin wear a hat, an'
hev sum shoes as hain't big ernuff fur a man, an' git some larnin' in
school. Soon's as we knows, we reckons on movin'."
"And Phin Dady, perhaps I might be of assistance to you down at
Washington, once I get to a barber, and look something respectable,"
said the late prisoner.
"D'ye mean thet ye don't hold no grudge agin me foh what I done tuh ye?"
demanded the old moonshiner, evidently surprised.
"That's just what I mean," replied the other, heartily. "Outside of
keeping me a prisoner, and even that was partly my fault, you've not
been harder on me than one might expect. And I'm so happy now, with this
noble lad by my side, and the knowledge that my wife still lives, that I
couldn't bear you any ill feeling. I hope you'll be a big success in
your new business; and here's my hand, if you care to take it."
"Hurrah!" cried Bob, feeling like throwing up his hat when he saw the
two men, enemies for so long, shaking hands in a friendly way.
Thad himself had never felt so light-hearted. It seemed as though all of
their troubles had suddenly taken flight, and the future looked bright
indeed. This hike through the Blue Ridge had turned out ten times more
wonderful than any of them had ever dreamed, when the undertaking was
first discussed, away up in Cranford. It had given Bob back a father
whom he had believed was dead; and presently Bertha, too, would be taken
from the guardian who had no real legal right to her charge.
The Boy Scouts would be able to go back to their home town with a
feather in their hats, after accomplishing so many wonderful things.
But how were they going to get down to the faraway camp? Would Mr.
Quail, who must be weak on account of having been kept in the cavern so
long, be able to stand the rough trip? Perhaps, after all, they had
better stay there during the balance of the night, and wait for daylight
to come.
Thad was perfectly willing to leave all this to the gentleman himself;
and presently he became aware that they were even then discussing it.
His long and bitter association with those cold walls, and that Still,
must have given Mr. Quail a dislike for the sight of them; because he
expressed himself as only too willing to start down without delay.
"It's true that I'm not as strong as I might be right now," he admitted;
"but that weakness ought to pass away as I get the fresh air. Besides,
having my boy at my side will work wonders. Yes, please do not let my
condition keep us here one minute longer than is absolutely necessary."
And so they all started down. Since there was no longer any need for
secrecy, Polly carried the lantern along.
After all, it was not such very hard work. With a light to show them
what they had to avoid, and a pilot who knew every foot of the
mountainside, they made very fair progress indeed. Even Mr. Quail
declared he was getting stronger all the time, as he drew in big
quantities of the sweet mountain air, so different from that he had been
enduring so long, tainted with the fumes of the Still.
Once Polly halted, and drew their attention to a light far down.
"Thet's yer fire," was what she said, simply; and both Bob and Thad
allowed their gaze to fall upon the flicker with a sense of deep
satisfaction; for they knew that they were about to prove to be
messengers of good tidings to those tried and true comrades so anxiously
awaiting their return.
Thad forgot that his feet burned, and that his muscles cried out in
protest against such unusual exertion; the thing that had happened was
of so wonderful a nature that every time he thought about it he told
himself he ought to consider himself equal to the task of walking up and
down hill all the remainder of the night, without a single groan or
falter.
Now they were evidently drawing nearer the lower part of the mountain.
Glimpses they caught of the camp-fire told them this good news. Besides,
Thad really began to recognize his surroundings.
And he was not so very much surprised when Polly suddenly stopped and
pointing to the rock at her feet, remarked:
"Hit war right thar, dad, as I got cort by ther foot; an' on thet ledge
yonder ther cat squatted, agrowlin' and spittin' like the Ole Nick, and
meanin' tuh jump right on me. See, hyars a stick thet helped tuh beat
him off. An' as yuh knows, 'twar this same boy, Thad they calls 'im, as
dun fixed Uncle Cliff up, so's Nate an' Tom, they cud fotch him acrost
tuh ther doc. Reckon we ort tuh do all we kin ter show 'em ther Dady
fambly hes gut feelins."
"Shore we ort, gal, an' we's agwine tuh do thet same," declared Old
Phin.
"We don't doubt it," said Thad, more or less affected by these evidences
of gratitude on the part of the mountaineer and his daughter. "What I
did was only a little thing you know, that could hardly count."
"But hit saved Cliff's life, an' thet meant sumthin' foh him," the girl
continued, with a shake of her tousled head. "Come erlong, an' let's git
down thar. Reckons as how a cup o' coffee'd taste right good tuh yuh
dad."
"Coffee!" echoed Mr. Quail, as though the very sound of the word touched
his inmost feelings; "it'll seem like nectar for the gods just to smell
it again, after--but no matter, it was the best they had, and I oughtn't
to say anything."
All the same Thad noticed that his steps quickened a little, and he
seemed to sniff the air from time to time, as if in imagination he could
already catch a faint whiff of the treat in store for him.
As they drew closer to the camp Thad could see that some of the boys
were sitting there. Perhaps they had been too anxious to even try and
sleep; though he believed he knew of one at least who could never have
held out all this while, no matter how strong his determination.
Waiting until they had arrived within a certain distance, and there was
no evidence that any one had noticed the descending lantern, Thad gave
vent to a call. It was the bark of the fox, and used by the members of
the patrol as a signal in case they wished to communicate with one
another.
He saw the figures about the fire quicken into life. They seemed to
jump to their feet, and stare about them, as if unable to understand
what that call meant.
A little to the surprise of Thad his signal was repeated from a point
close by, and immediately Allan Hollister showed up. Undoubtedly the
Maine boy had been scouting around the borders of the camp, seeking to
guard against any surprise. He had watched the coming of the group with
the lantern, and guessed that two of them must be the missing comrades,
Thad and Bob.
When they all stalked into camp, the boys were thunderstruck to see Old
Phin and his daughter, apparently on the best of terms with their
comrades; and as for the tall man with the long hair and beard, they
could easily guess who he must be by the way Bob Quail clung to his
hand.
Then Bumpus called for three cheers, and they were given with a vim that
made the valley echo from side to side. Possibly some of those
moonshiner videttes must have started up, wondering what on earth could
be occurring in the camp of the Boy Scouts.
There was little chance that any of the boys would get a wink of sleep
during the remainder of that eventful night. Long did they sit there by
the revived fire, watching Mr. Quail drink his coffee, cup after cup,
and listening to the strangest story they had ever heard. Even when
finally, along about three in the morning, they were induced to lie
down upon their various beds of leaves and grass, sleep must have
utterly refused to visit their eyes, save in the case of Bumpus himself;
and he could drop into slumber in almost "any old position, even if he
were hanging by his heels," as Giraffe used to say.
And so the night passed away, and another morning found them, red-eyed
but joyful beyond compare; for they felt that their great hike among the
mountains had turned out to be the finest thing possible, both for their
comrade, Bob, and themselves.