THE HUNT FOR JACK.
"Marion, where is Jack?" asked Mrs. Ruthven, in the morning.
"I do not know, mamma."
"When did you see him last?"
"Just before he started for the stable last night."
Mrs. Ruthven was very much worried, and with good cause, as my readers
know. She sought out Old Ben, who had his shoulder bandaged.
"Ben, have you seen Jack?"
"No, missus, I aint."
"Is he around the stable or the barns?"
"Perhaps he is, missus. Ole Ben will go an' look, if yo' want it."
"Yes, Ben; I cannot imagine what has become of him."
Old Ben hurried off, and Mrs. Ruthven went upstairs to wait upon George
Walden, who had now developed a raging fever.
"It is very odd what has become of Jack," said the lady of the
plantation. "He never went off like this before."
It was fully half an hour before Old Ben came back. The colored man
looked much worried.
"Can't find him nowhar, missus," he said. "An' dat dar guerrilla is
gone, too."
"The man who was shot while trying to steal the horses?"
"Yes, missus."
"Then something must be wrong. Didn't you find any trace at all of
Jack?"
"Not de slightest, missus. Old Ben looked eberywhar, too--'deed I did,
missus."
"I do not doubt you, Ben. But this is terrible. Jack must be somewhere."
"Dat's so, too, missus."
"Were there any signs of violence about?" asked Marion. "Any--any blood,
for example?"
"Some blood at de stable. Miss Marion. But I rackon dat was from de
shootin' ob dat dar guerrilla."
Marion heaved a deep sigh, and Mrs. Ruthven shook her head slowly. Here
was fresh trouble, more painful than any that had gone before.
"The guerrilla couldn't go off alone, could he?" asked Marion.
"Jack said he was quite seriously wounded, Marion. Still, the rascal may
have been playing possum with Jack, and stolen off on the sly."
"If he was strong enough to do that, perhaps he took Jack with him to
keep the boy from sounding an alarm."
"You may be right. We must find the boy if we can."
Slowly the day wore away, and no tidings came to the plantation. Toward
evening St. John put in an appearance.
"The soldiers have cleared out," he said. "There isn't a regiment of any
sort within a dozen miles."
"I am glad of it," answered Mrs. Ruthven, and then continued quickly,
"Have you seen anything of Jack?"
"Do you mean to-day?"
"Yes."
"No, I haven't seen him since he made such a mess of it up at our house,
putting out the fire," growled the spendthrift.
"It's a wonder you didn't put out the fire yourself," put in Marion
sharply. She did not like talk against her brother.
"I--I was sick, sicker than anybody supposed," stammered St. John. "Had
I been at all well, things would have gone on very differently, I can
assure you."
"Then you haven't seen or heard of Jack," said Mrs. Ruthven. "He has
been missing since last night."
"No, I haven't seen him--and I don't want to see him. He insulted me and
made trouble between me and my mother."
"On account of the fire?"
"Yes. He thinks he is a regular lord of creation, he does," went on St.
John hotly. "He wants dressing down, Aunt Alice."
"I cannot believe Jack has done anything very wrong."
"He is a nobody, and puts on altogether too many airs."
Mrs. Ruthven would not listen to this talk, and changed the subject by
asking him what had brought him over from his home.
"I was asked to come over and see if you had any of the Yankee wounded
here."
"Who sent you?"
"Colonel Bromley of our army."
"No, we have only Confederates here."
"How many?"
"Five. Four of them are doing very well, you can tell the colonel, but
the fifth was hurt when our house was struck by a cannon ball, and he is
now in a high fever."
"All right, I'll tell him."
"Have you joined the army at last?" questioned Marion curiously.
"Not exactly, but I told the colonel I would help him in any manner that
I could," answered St. John, and hurried away for fear of being
questioned further.
The truth of the matter was that the fire had brought on a bitter
quarrel between St. John and his mother, and the parent had insisted
that the son overcome his cowardice and do something for his country.
St. John had demurred in vain, and had at last gone to the Confederate
headquarters and offered his services; but as a civilian, not as a
soldier.
When the young man was gone Mrs. Ruthven and Marion had Old Ben and the
others make another search for Jack, and this hunt lasted far into the
night.
But it was of no avail; our hero had disappeared as utterly as if the
earth had opened and swallowed him.
"Mamma, do you think it possible that the Yankees captured him?" was the
question Marion put.
"Not unless Jack left home during the night, Marion. And what would
cause him to leave without telling us that he was going?"
"That is true. Jack wouldn't do anything to cause us anxiety."
"It is a great mystery," sighed Mrs. Ruthven.
Later a negro, living on the mountain side, came down to the plantation
and asked to see the lady of the house.
"I was t'inkin' yo' would be wantin' ter know wot became o' Master
Jack," said the colored man, who rejoiced in the name of Columbus
Washington.
"What do you know of him?" asked Mrs. Ruthven quickly.
"I seed him early dis mornin', missus--away up in the mountains."
"The mountains? Alone?"
"No, missus--he was a prisoner."
"Of the Yankees?"
"De men wot had him was dressed as Confed'rates, missus."
"You did not know them?"
"No, missus."
"And you are certain that Jack was held a prisoner?"
"Oh. yes, missus, fo' one ob de men said he would shoot if de boy tried
to git away from him."
Mrs. Ruthven clasped her hands in despair.
"A prisoner! Did you speak to him?"
"No, no! I was afraid to show myself. De men was armed an' I wasn't--an'
I didn't want to git in no trouble."
"Where were they taking Jack?"
"I can't say as to dat. I met dem on the ole mill trail near de blasted
tree."
"You saw nobody else around?"
"No, missus."
"It is very strange why Jack should be carried off in this fashion. I
wish you had followed them and seen what became of my boy."
"Perhaps I kin follow dem by de trail, missus. Ise putty good at dat."
"Then do so by all means, and I will reward you for your work."
"T'ank yo,' missus; yo' was always de lady to remember poor niggers."
"If you wish, you can take Old Ben with you. He is good at trailing,
too."
So it was arranged, and half an hour later Old Ben and Columbus
Washington were on their way. Both knew the mountains thoroughly, and
lost no time in getting to the spot where Jack had last been seen.
Then began a hunt for the trail, and this discovered, both went on once
more, little dreaming of the surprise in store for them.