The Purdues finally came ashore, accompanied by two servants, and
occupied the opposite end of the bungalow.
Purdue, retired capitalist, undoubtedly affluent, cherubic, in facial
appearance jolly, and with a bare pate to which still appended a
slightly curling fringe below his hat, laughed with you, but always
there came a shrewd glitter in his eyes when trade matters were
broached. The itching palm and a penchant for melons yet to be cut
were easily a part of his inherited tendency.
Mother Purdue, muchly inclined toward obesity and cynicism, was a
human interrogation point. Both children apparently loved the father
best and made of him a chum.
The elder married daughter, Mrs. Potter, was Wellesley finished, and a
growing replica of the mother. Her mouth had been spoiled at the
foolish age by a constant effort to produce dimples in her cheeks, but
matrimony and time had been kind and she was now quite sensible. But
sister Norma, a thin, frail slip of a girl--the undoubted makings of a
beautiful woman--appeared to have arbitrarily rejected the least
desirable tendencies of both parents, by the sacrifice of corpulence.
I was busy with final reports and paid little attention to the new
arrivals during the week that followed, but Byng, who ate with me
usually, said that they were having the time of their lives, and that
papa Purdue had evidently forgotten he had stump land for sale. Their
boat drew too much water to navigate the river above, and, at Purdue's
suggestion, the moonshiner's old flat-bottomed, square-end, scowlike
boat was cleaned out, and, after the motor was overhauled, was used by
them for frequent trips of inspection to their property above, a
tarpaulin being provided to protect them against the sun.
One mid-afternoon Byng rushed excitedly to the bungalow. He had
received a telephone message from the station, for me. It was from
headquarters:
"Sheriff reports your prisoners broke jail last night. Still at
large. Report details of escape, insist on posse, and do what
you can to apprehend."
"Didn't I tell ye? Didn't I tell ye?" he repeated, walking about the
room. "That damn sheriff is about half-moonshiner himself, and the old
jail would fall down if ye looked at it," he added excitedly.
"Where will these fellows strike for, Howard?" I asked, gathering up
my writing.
"You know Cracker moonshiners as well as I do, maybe. You know they
are like a she-bear, or a fox. The minute they're loose they go back
to their hole and cubs. They haven't had any moonshine and their
tongues are hanging fer it. I'll bet you them fellers are back to the
old still by this time, digging fer some they've hid and getting ready
to make more. They jest can't stay away. They think you've gone, an'
the sheriff'll let 'em alone. He always has."
"But they escaped last night. They must come thirty or forty miles, so
would not have quite time to be there now, would they?" Even as I
asked the question I was shedding white duck for my working clothes.
"Yes--that's so, but they'll be there before you can get there. What
are you going to do?"
"I think I'll try and beat the moonshiners to it and have things ready
for them. As long as you are sure they are going back I think they
ought to have a hearty welcome, Howard, don't you?" I asked, putting
on high-top boots and yanking my kit from under the bed which I
thought was used for the last time.
"Yes, sure, but ye got to take me along," he said, facing me,
delighted at the prospect.
"Howard, these men have likely picked up guns and may put up a nasty
fight. I will get them by some kind of strategy as I did before.
Besides, if I get it, that's why I am paid. You can't be spared so
well, for you are at the head of a business, by which a lot of people
live. You have guests here to look after, too," I urged.
He stopped at the window and soberly looked out across the river. Then
he walked to the other window, gazed over a long field of growing
cotton, a verdant green punctuation of a new era, a new life to him
and the whole section.
"An' you want me to stay an' let you go up there alone?" he asked in
an injured tone, somewhat in the same manner as he had requested me to
take him north five years before. I could see Mamma Purdue, out of
stays, sound asleep in a steamer chair at the other end of the
veranda, with Papa nearby examining critically the latest vital
statistics of Wall Street.
"No, siree--ye got to lemme go this time. Do you 'spose I'm going to
let any damn Cracker moonshiner get a drop on me with a long John,
when I got a gun down here that shoots a dozen times while he's
loadin'. Yes, I got guests, but you're the only one I can see now, and
I ain't going ter let you enter that swamp with three ag'in' ye. No,
sir, ye got to lemme go," he insisted vehemently.
"All right, Howard, get ready," I replied, seeing there was no use to
object. "When's flood water? We've got to have it to get up that creek
with a boat."
"She floods to-day at five. I know; for my schooner _Canby_ will cross
the bar then--inbound."
"As we will have less than two hours to get to the creek we must
hurry," I said. "But keep mum. If Mamma Purdue hears of it she will
think the whole family is going to be kidnapped or murdered," I added,
hurrying preparations.
"We'll have to go in that little skiff of your'n. The Purdue man went
out with the young wimmen a while ago in the other one."
"Get ready and be down at the mill as soon as you can."
"I'll be there in a jiffy," he said, hurrying away.
As I hastened out, Mamma Purdue's astonishment at my changed
appearance suddenly converted a waking yawn into an interrogation, but
my intercourse with the visitors had been limited to observation and
prevented inquiry.
Byng, again a woodsman in hunting outfit, brought out the oars and
helped the little electric motor skiff along. His great arms and back
delighted in action, as he lapsed into the silent wildness of a
woodsman hunter. He scanned the river banks unceasingly for signs of
the skulking moonshiners, and when we rounded the bend and passed the
spot where our camp was five years before we exchanged glances.
Silence was necessary. When about two miles from the creek we met the
flat-bottom boat, close to shore, in charge of the "Purdue man" as
Howard called him. The two girls were gathering lilies from over the
sides. Howard waved at them and, as we passed closely, warned them
not to go ashore at that point.
"Why did you do that?" I queried, for the shore had the usual
appearance except that it seemed to still have its full virgin growth
of thick gums and other soft woods the loggers did not yet want.
"That's Alligator Island. It's more'n a mile long, and they never cut
it over 'cause they said the gum logs were no good, but more'n likely
it's something else. I go there hunting, but wear heavy cowhide boots.
I can always get a turkey, find a bee tree, and a bear if I want one,
an' I've seen bob cats as big as houn' dogs," he told me in a
suppressed voice, but never relaxed his scrutiny of grass patches and
stumps along the shore on both sides.
After we passed into the creek he held his rifle at full cock and
faced ahead, the least movement of the high, slough grass was given a
piercing search the whole way up the narrowing creek to the old
still. Evidently the gang hadn't arrived there yet.
But Howard Byng's sixth sense, his knowledge of woodcraft and the
natives, especially moonshiners, prompted speed for he "just knew"
they would make a "bee line" for the old still. His feverish haste
indicated that he felt even more than he voiced. Some uprooted stumps
that commanded a good view of the still and the creek, too, would hide
us and make a good barricade.
We planted dynamite on both sides of the hole made by my last shot to
blow the place up, and we covered the small wires leading to us behind
the stumps.
I could see why Byng knew the men would come back. There was plenty of
shade and lumber, making reconstruction easy, and daylight inspection
revealed that my last shot had not quite demolished their outfit.
Howard insisted on getting out of sight as soon as possible. He acted
as though he could see them coming which recalled to my mind his
uncanny premonition when working for me as an "axe-man" five years
before. He found a place for his rifle and held it full cock, glancing
occasionally back of us, to prevent a possible surprise attack from
the rear. They must come from the river and the sun being behind us
was to our advantage if they came from the direction expected.
It wasn't long before Byng started up like a tiger gathering its feet
to spring. I could see nothing at first. The narrow creek we came up
was crooked as a corkscrew and was visible but a short distance
through high swamp grass. However, I soon saw what made him start and
his eyes turn to live coals. Something like a small pole or rifle
barrel, that was visible above the grass a half-mile away, moved
slowly but surely. Later I could see it was following the meanderings
of the creek. Then, as our eyes became accustomed, we could see two of
them.
"They've got a boat and are coming up the creek," he whispered between
set teeth, the knots again forming on the lower angle of his great
jaw.
It may be that he guessed the real truth before I did, and his blood
began to surge. Intensely excited, we watched the thin rifle barrels
follow the creek slowly, carefully, stealthily. Soon we noticed two
more, and could hear the muffled exhaust of a motor. I looked at Byng
and saw that he understood. He was again like a wild man, burning for
revenge, and he grew worse when the boat rounded the last bend in the
creek, revealing three outlaws in the boat in which we saw the Purdue
sisters but a short time before. The sun-protecting tarpaulin was torn
off, and it was the four supporting uprights that we saw moving above
the grass.
They came slowly, suspiciously watching every quarter like wild
animals. Byng's fingers moved so nervously about the trigger of his
rifle trained upon them that I reached over and touched his shoulder
warningly. I was afraid he would kill them, and moonshining, alone,
was no cause for that. He held himself in restraint through powerful
effort, and awaited signal from me. I could see that he had the same
sickening thought. What had they done with the two young ladies--his
guests?