INNOCENT OR GUILTY?
Paul could feel the farmer trembling as he happened to come in contact
with his person; and from this he guessed that Mr. Rollins had also
discovered the pile of money on the table.
Was Jo Davies, then, such a silly fellow as this? It did not seem
possible that anyone not a fool would rob his employer, and immediately
hurry home, to throw the stolen money before his dear old mother, with
some wonderful story of how he had found it on the road, perhaps, or had
it given to him by a millionaire whose horse he stopped on the highway,
when it was running away with a lady in the vehicle.
And somehow, from the few little glimpses Paul had caught of the young
fellow's face he rather liked Jo Davies. If, as seemed very likely, the
young man had been tempted to steal this money, it would cause Paul a
feeling of regret, even though he had not known there was such a being
as Jo Davies in the world half an hour before.
"Whoo! see the long green!" he heard Seth whisper. "Reckon he's gone and
done it, worse luck!" and from the words and the manner of his saying
them, Paul guessed that the speaker must have taken a fancy to Jo, as
well as himself.
The window happened to be shut, and so this whisper attracted no
attention on the part of those within the cottage. Indeed, they were so
given over to excitement themselves that they were hardly apt to notice
anything out of the common.
Paul could feel the farmer beginning to slip down, and it was easy to
understand that the sight of all that money made him want to rush
inside, to claim it, before the bold thief had a chance to hide his
plunder somewhere.
And this was the only possible thing that should be done. While Mr.
Rollins in the kindness of his heart might wish to spare the dear old
lady all he could, he dared not take any chances of losing sight of his
property.
"Come on, boys!"
That was quite enough, for when the other scouts heard Paul say these
three simple words they knew that there was going to be something doing.
And quickly did they proceed to fall in behind their leader and the
farmer.
Under ordinary conditions, perhaps, it might have occurred to the patrol
leader to throw some sort of guard around the cabin, so as to prevent
the escape of the desperate thief. He did not think of doing such a
thing now, for various reasons.
In the first place, one of the scouts could hardly hope to cope with
such a husky young fellow as the farmhand, if once he wanted to break
through the line.
Then again, it hardly seemed likely that Jo Davies would attempt to
flee, when his old mother was there to witness his confusion; in fact,
the chances appeared to be that he would brazen it out, and try to
claim that the money belonged to him. The door was close at hand, so
that it took only part of a minute for the eager farmer to reach the
means of ingress.
He did not hesitate a second, after having set eyes on all that alluring
pile of bank notes on the table, under the glow of the lamp.
And when he suddenly opened the door, to burst into the room, Paul and
the other scouts were close upon his heels, every fellow anxious to see
what was about to happen.
Of course the noise caused by their entrance in such a mass, was heard
by those in the room. Jo Davies sprang to his feet, and assumed an
attitude of defiance, one arm extended, as though to defend the little
fortune that lay there exposed so recklessly upon the table.
Possibly this was the very first time in all his life that he had
experienced such a sensation as fear of robbery. When a man has never
possessed anything worth stealing, he can hardly know what the feeling
is. So it must have been sheer instinct that caused Jo to thus stand on
guard, ready apparently to fight, in order to protect his property,
however recently it may have come into his possession.
No wonder that he felt this sudden alarm, to have the door of his home
rudely thrown open, and a horde of fellows fairly tumbling over each
other, in their eagerness to enter.
Then, the look of alarm seemed to pass away from the face of the young
fellow; as though he had recognized his employer. Paul wondered whether
this was real or cleverly assumed. He saw Jo actually smile, and
advancing a step, half hold out his hand toward Mr. Rollins.
But the farmer was looking very stern just then. He either did not see
the extended hand, or else meant to ignore it purposely, for he
certainly made no move toward taking it.
"I've got back, Mr. Rollins," Jo said, his voice rather shaky, either
from excitement, or some other reason; and he stared hard at Paul and
the other khaki-garbed scouts, as though puzzled to account for their
being there.
"So I see," replied the farmer, grimly.
"I hope you didn't hev too much trouble with the stock, Mr. Rollins," Jo
went on to say, in a half hesitating sort of way.
"Well, if I did, they are all safe and sound; perhaps you'd like to know
that now," the farmer went on to remark, a little bitterly.
Jo looked at him queerly.
"He either doesn't understand what that means, or else is trying to seem
ignorant," was what Paul thought, seeing this expression of wonderment.
"I'm glad to hear that, sure I am, Mr. Rollins," the other remarked,
slowly, "an' seein' as how you're dropped in on us unexpected like,
p'raps I ought to tell you what I meant to say in the mornin.'"
"What's that?" demanded Mr. Rollins, unconsciously edging a little
closer to the table where that tempting display of greenbacks could be
seen; just as though he began to fear that it might suddenly take wings
and fly away before he could put in a claim for his property.
"I've come in for a little windfall, sir," began Jo, proudly it
appeared.
"Looks like you had," grumbled the farmer, as he flashed his eyes again
toward the display so near at hand.
"And if so be you're of the same mind about that Thatcher farm, p'raps
we might come to terms about the same, sir. I guess you'd just as lief
sell it to _me_ as anybody else, wouldn't you, Mr. Rollins?"
"You seem to have a lot of money all of a sudden, Jo?" suggested the
farmer, in a hoarse tone, so that he had to clear his throat twice while
speaking.
"Yes, sir, that's so," declared the young farm hand, eagerly. "I never
dreamed of such grand good fortune as an old aunt of mine dying up in
Indianapolis, and leaving me all she had in bank. That's why I asked to
get off this afternoon, Mr. Rollins, so I could run over, and get what
was comin' to me."
The farmer was grinding his teeth a little; but so long as he believed
he saw all his stolen hoard before him, within reach of his hand, he
seemed able to control himself; he even waxed a trifle sarcastic, Paul
thought, when, looking straight at his hired man, he went on to say:
"Perhaps now, Jo, I might give a pretty good guess about the size of
this wonderful fortune you've come into so sudden-like. How would three
thousand sound to you, Jo? Is that about the figure now, tell me?"
Jo turned a wondering face toward his old mother.
"Well, did you ever hear the beat of that, maw?" he cried, "Mr. Rollins
has just guessed the size of my pile to a dollar, because it was just
three thousand old Aunt Libby left me--a few dollars over p'raps.
However did you know it, sir?" and he once more faced the sneering
farmer.
"I'll tell you, Jo," continued Mr. Rollins, coldly, "I happen to have
just had three thousand dollars in bills stolen from my house this very
night, by some rascal who first of all set fire to my stable and barn,
so that the missus and me'd be so taken up with saving our pet stock
we'd leave the farmhouse unguarded. Yes, and there _was_ a few dollars
more'n three thousand dollars, Jo. Queer coincidence I'd call it now,
wouldn't you?"
Jo turned deathly white, and stared at his employer. His eyes were round
with real, or assumed horror. If he was "putting on," as Seth would term
it, then this farm hand must be a pretty clever actor for a crude
country bumpkin, Paul thought.
"Oh! Jo, my boy, my boy, what does he mean by saying that?"
The little old lady had arisen from her chair, though she trembled so
that she seemed in danger of falling; but Paul unconsciously moved a
pace closer, ready to catch her in his arms if she swooned. But Jo,
quick as a flash, hearing her voice, whirled around, and threw a
protecting arm about her.
"It's all right, maw; don't you go and be afraid. I ain't done nawthing
you need to be fearful about. This money's mine! Set down again, deary.
Don't you worrit about Jo. He ain't agoin' to make your dear old heart
bleed, sure he ain't."
And somehow, when Paul saw the tender way in which the rough farm boy
forced the little old lady back into her chair, and caught the positive
tone in which he gave her this assurance, he seemed almost ready to
believe Jo _must_ be innocent; although when he glanced at the
money his heart misgave him again.
"Now, Mr. Rollins, please tell me what it all means?" asked Jo, turning
and facing his employer again, with a bold, self-confident manner that
must have astonished the farmer not a little. "I just come up from town
as fast as I could hurry, because, you see, I knew I was bringin' the
greatest of news to maw here. I did see a sorter light in the sky when I
was leavin' town, and thinks I to myself, that old swamp back of the ten
acre patch must be burnin' again; but I never dreamed it was the stable
and hay barn, sure I didn't sir."
The farmer hardly seemed to know what to say to this, he was so taken
aback by the utter absence of guilt in the face and manner of Jo.
Before he could frame any sort of reply the young fellow had spoken
again.
"You said as how you'd got all the stock out safe, didn't you, Mr.
Rollins? I'd just hate to think of Polly and Sue and the hosses bein'
burned up. Whatever d'ye think could a set the fire agoin'? Mebbe that
last hay we put in wa'n't as well cured as it might a been, an' it's
been heatin' right along. I meant to look into it more'n once, but
somethin' always came along an' I plumb forgot it."
Mr. Rollins looked at him, and frowned. He did not know how to answer
such a lead as this. He was growing impatient, almost angry again.
"Give me my money, Jo, and let me be going; I can't breathe proper in
here, you've upset me so bad," he said, holding out his hand with an
imperative gesture.
"But I ain't got no money of yours, Mr. Rollins," expostulated the
other, stubbornly. "I'm awful sorry if you've gone and lost your roll,
and I'd do most anything to help you find it again; but that money
belongs to me, and I don't mean to turn it over to nobody. It's goin' to
buy a home for me and maw, understand that, sir--your little Thatcher
place, if so be you'll come to terms; but some other if you won't.
That's plain, sir, ain't it?"
"What, do you have the nerve to stick to that silly story, after
admitting that this wonderfully gotten fortune of yours tallies to the
dollar with what has been taken from my house?" demanded Mr. Rollins,
acting as though half tempted to immediately pounce upon the treasure,
and take possession, depending on Paul and his scouts to back him up if
Jo showed fight.
"I sure do; and I know what I know, Mr. Rollins!" declared the farmhand,
with flashing eyes, as he pushed between the table and the irate farmer;
while his little mother wrung her clasped hands, and moaned pitifully to
see the strange thing that was happening there under her own roof.
It looked for a moment as though there might be some sort of a rumpus;
and Seth even began to clench his hands as if ready to take a prominent
part in the same; but as had happened more than a few times before when
the storm clouds gathered over the scouts, Paul's wise counsel
intervened to prevent actual hostilities.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Rollins," he called out. "This thing ought to be
easily settled, one way or another. You understand that queer things may
happen sometimes, and there is a chance that two sums of money may be
almost exactly alike. Now, if Jo here has inherited a nice little
fortune, he ought to be able to prove that to us by showing letters, or
some sort of documents. How about that, Jo?"
To the surprise, and pleasure as well, of the scoutmaster, Jo's face
immediately expanded into a wide grin, and he nodded his head eagerly.
"Say, maw, what did you do with that letter we had from the law firm
over in Indianapolis, tellin' me to come and claim my property, and to
bring along something to prove that I was the said Jo Albion Davies
mentioned in Aunt Selina's last will and testament? In the drawer, you
mean? All right, I'll get it; and let these gentlemen read the same. And
there's Squire McGregor as went up with me to identify me to the
lawyers, he'll tell you he saw me get this money from the bank, just
before they closed this arternoon. There she is; now read her out loud,
young feller."