HAROLD BIRD'S STRANGE TALE
Early in the morning the Rovers and their friends were ready to take
their departure. Dick came down in the garden at sunrise, and was
soon joined by Dora, and they took a short walk together.
"Oh, Dick, you must keep out of danger," said Dora. "Promise me you
will be careful!"
"I will be careful, Dora," he answered, as he looked down into the
depths of her clear eyes. "I will be careful--for your sake," he
added, in almost a whisper.
"If something sh--should happen to you!" she faltered.
"I'll take care of myself, don't fear, Dora," he made reply, and
then, as they were all alone he drew her up to him. "Dora, may I?"
he asked, softly and tenderly.
She did not answer, but looked up at him, innocently and confidingly.
He bent over and kissed her, and gave her hand a little squeeze.
"We understand each other, don't we, Dora?" he whispered.
"Of course we do," she whispered in return.
"And some day you'll be Mrs. Dick Rover?"
"Oh, Dick!"
"But you will be, won't you?"
"I--I--suppose--Oh!" And then Dora broke from Dick's hold, as Fred
Garrison and Hans Mueller appeared, around a bend of the pathway.
"Breakfast is waiting!" sang out Fred. "Hurry up, if we are to start
that search."
"All right," answered Dick.--"We'll be in right away."
"See, I vos bick me a peautiful roses," put in Hans Mueller, coming
closer. "Dick, of you ton't peen--vot you call him?--jealousness,
yah, I gif him to Dora," and he passed over the flower.
"Oh, thank you, Hans," replied Dora, and she placed the flower in
her hair. Then she gave Dick a look that meant a good deal, and they
understood each other perfectly, and both went in to breakfast feeling
very happy.
In the meantime Sam and Tom had been out on a side veranda with Grace
and Nellie. Tom was as full of fun as ever and kept the two girls in
a roar of laughter. Yet both girls grew serious when the time for
parting came.
"You look out for yourself," said Grace. "Remember, those men are
bad characters to meet."
"Yes, I shouldn't want you to get hurt for the world," added Nellie,
and when she shook hands with Tom there was something like a tear in
her eye.
Then came good-byes all around, and the carriage that was to take
Dick and the others to the town drove around to the door. The party
climbed in and in a moment more were off, the girls and ladies waving
their handkerchiefs and the boys swinging their caps and hats.
"Yo' boys dun take good care ob yo'selves," said Aleck, who stood
by, with a look of concern on his ebony face. "If yo' come back killed
dis coon will neber fo'give himself!"
"Come back as soon as you can!" called out Dora.
"Don't worry--we may be back in a day or two," answered Dick. But it
was destined to be many a long day ere the two parties should meet again.
Down at the riverside they found the launch in charge of a negro and
all ready for the start. The provisions were stored in two lockers
on board, and another locker held their firearms and some raincoats.
"Hurrah! Here is news," cried Dick, after perusing a telegram that
had been handed to him. "You'll remember I telegraphed to Benton,
the town below here. Well, here is word that the houseboat was seen
passing Benton yesterday at about five o'clock, and headed towards
the west shore. That ought to give us something to work on.
"It will," answered Harold Bird. "Come, the sooner we get started
the better."
All stepped aboard of the _Venus_, as the launch was named, and soon
the gasoline motor was buzzing away at a good rate of speed. Then
the power was turned on the screw, Harold Bird took his station at
the wheel, and away they sped from the landing and out onto the broad
Mississippi.
"Hurrah for a life on der oceans vafe und a ship on der rollings
deeps!" sang out Hans, who sat near the bow.
"Gosh, Hans is getting poetic!" said Tom. "That's right, Hansy, my
boy, keep it up and you'll soon put Songbird out of business."
"What I want to know is," came from Fred, "if we strike a sunken snag
is this launch safe?"
"As safe as any craft of her size," answered Harold Bird. "But I
shan't strike a snag if I can help it. I am not running at full speed,
and if you'll notice I am keeping where the water is fairly clear."
"Which isn't saying a great deal," came from Sam. "I never saw a
river as muddy as the Mississippi."
"I know one other stream that is worse, and that's the Missouri,"
said Harold Bird. "And as that flows into the Mississippi it makes
the latter almost as bad."
As soon as they were well on their way Dick brought out the firearms
which had been brought along, and examined them with care.
"You certainly have some fine weapons," said he, referring to the
pistols brought by Harold Bird. "Do you do much shooting--I mean with
a gun?"
"I never go shooting at all," was the young Southerner's reply, and
once again the boys saw that strange look of sadness come over his face.
"Funny, you wouldn't care to go out," said Songbird, carelessly.
"Must be quite some game around here."
"There is plenty of game, but--" Harold Bird heaved a deep sigh. "I
presume I may as well tell you my story, for you are bound to hear
it sooner or later," he went on. "About four years ago my father went
out hunting in the forest to the north of our plantation. He was out
with two friends, but about the middle of the day the party separated
and my father found himself alone. Then he saw something that to him
looked like a wildcat on a big rock. He fired quickly, and when he
drew closer he saw to his horror that he had shot and killed a man--an
old hunter named Blazen.
"The shock of the discovery made my father faint, and when the others
came up they found him working over the dead body of Blazen in a vain
endeavor to bring the hunter back to life. A doctor was called, but
nothing could be done for Blazen, for the shot had killed him instantly,
taking him squarely in the heart. Of course it was an accident, but
my father couldn't get over it. He raved and wept by turns, and at
last the doctors had to place him in confinement for fear that he
would try to do himself some injury. My mother was prostrated by the
news, and you can imagine how I felt myself."
"It was certainly terrible," said Dick, and the others nodded in silence.
"Blazen was an old bachelor, with no relatives, so there were few to
mourn over his death. We saw to it that he was given a decent burial
and advertised for his heirs, but nobody appeared. In the meantime
my father grew melancholy and the doctors thought he might become
insane. They advised a trip to new scenes, and my mother and I took
him to Europe and then to Kingston, Jamaica, where an old friend of
the family had a plantation. One day my father disappeared."
"Disappeared?" echoed Sam and Tom.
"Yes, disappeared utterly and forever. We hunted high and low for
him and offered a big reward for any information. It was useless. We
have never seen him or heard a word of him since."
"And what do you think became of him?" questioned Songbird Powell.
"I cannot imagine, excepting that he may have thrown himself into
the bay and drowned himself. He had a habit of going down to the
water and gazing out to sea by the hour."
"Too bad!" murmured Dick. "Mr. Bird, I sympathize deeply with you."
"And so do I," came from the other boys.
"The disappearance of my father made my mother ill and it was all I
could do to get her back home. There we procured the best of medical
skill, but it did little good. She had always had heart trouble and
this grew rapidly worse until she died, leaving me utterly alone in
the world."
Harold Bird stopped speaking and wiped the tears from his eyes. All
of his listeners were deeply affected. It was several seconds before
anybody spoke.
"I don't wonder you don't care to go hunting," said Sam. "I'd feel
the same way."
"I have never visited the forest since the time the tragedy took
place," answered Harold Bird. "At first I thought to sell off the
stretch of land to a lumber company, but now I have changed my mind,
and I intend to give it to the heirs of Blazen, if any appear."
"Is it a valuable tract?" asked Fred.
"The lumber company offered me twenty thousand dollars for it."
"If your father was drowned it is queer that you never heard anything
of his body," said Fred.
"Bodies of drowned people are not always recovered," answered the
young Southerner. "But he must have been drowned, for if he had been
alive we surely would have heard something of him. The reward we
offered set hundreds of people to hunting for him."
"It is certainly a mystery," said Dick. "I suppose you'd give a good
deal to have it cleared up.
"I'd give half of what I am worth," answered Harold Bird, earnestly.