HOW THE HEELS WENT HOME WITHOUT SHOES AND STOCKINGS.
“THAT you, Hank?”
“Yes! Didn’t you know me? What in time made you leg it so? I couldn’t
hardly keep up with you!”
“I took you for old Peternot!” said the excited Jack. “I thought you got
off ahead of me.”
Upon that Hank laughed again. “I knew the squire would come out; I hid
by the quince-bushes till he showed himself, and then rushed out before
him.”
“What was that for?”
“To lead him a wild-goose chase, while Cub and Tug got away with the
money.”
“Where are they?” demanded the anxious Jack.
“Out of his reach,—that’s all I know. He didn’t foller us but a few
rods; the old chap’s so lame he can’t run wuth a cent. The idee of your
takin’ me for him!”
“Which way did they go? You know!” exclaimed Jack, who was in no mood
for laughing at this odd mistake.
“Mebby we shall fall in with ’em, crossin’ the pastur’,” said Hank. “Ye
needn’t be alarmed about your money, if we don’t. That’ll be safe.
Better keep that hid somewheres, till you’re ready to dispose on ’t; for
there’s no knowin’ what the old man may do. Leave that to me an’ Cub;
I’ll look out for your interest.”
“Tug has got my hat and shoes!” said Jack, in sore perplexity.
“He’ll keep ’em safe,” replied Hank. “Needn’t worry.”
“My stockings!” exclaimed Jack.
“Has he got them too?”
“No; I wish he had!” For now it occurred to him that the stockings,
which he certainly had on his feet before he jumped from the window,
must have come off in his captors’ hands when he escaped!
“No matter; money is all right; we can afford to lose a pair of
stockin’s or two,” was Hank’s consolatory remark.
He failed, however, to impress this cheerful view of the matter upon
Jack, who, bareheaded, barefoot, uncertain that he should ever see his
money again, felt anything but happy over the success of his rash
attempt.
Hearing a low whistle not far off, Hank said, “That’s them!” and
whistled in response. “One on ’em, anyhow,” as a single figure was seen
approaching. “Tug?”
“Hullo!” said Tug. “Where’s Cub?”
“Ain’t he with you?” said Hank. “I told ye to keep together!”
“I thought we’d better scatter, when the old man and the Dinks feller
come after us; one on ’em—I don’t know which ’twas—chased me ’bout a
quarter of a mile.”
“Where are my shoes?” said Jack.
“Your shoes?” echoed Tug.
“Yes! and my hat?”
“Your hat?”
“Yes! what have you done with ’em?” cried Jack, choking with impatience
and anger.
“O, to be sure! I believe I put ’em on the ground under the lilac-bush;
you was so long in the room, I got tired of holdin’ on ’em; and darned
if I didn’t forgit all about ’em!”
Jack was incensed at this negligence. “That’s the way you help a fellow,
is it?”
“Didn’t we help you?” said Hank. “You wouldn’t have got away at all if
it hadn’t been for me.”
“You!” retorted Jack; “if you had only caught me at first, when I was
getting out of the window, I shouldn’t have had any trouble! But you
waited till the old man got hold of me; and now I’ve lost hat and shoes
and stockings and money!”
Hank answered indignantly, “Won’t you believe me when I tell you your
money is all right? You sha’n’t be robbed of a dollar. I’m sorry about
the stockin’s; but your hat and shoes you can find, I suppose, jest
where Tug left ’em.”
“If Tug will go with me!”
“What’s the use of two goin’?” said Tug. “We’ll be lookin’ for Cub, and
meet you at the corner of the woods.” To this Hank agreed.
Seeing there was nothing else to be done, Jack ran back across the
pasture to Peternot’s garden, and was creeping up behind the
quince-trees, when he heard a voice, and saw a glimmer of light
approaching around the corner of the house. Then appeared Squire
Peternot, carrying a lantern, followed by his nephew Byron, armed with a
heavy club. They were looking along the ground and beating the
shrubbery. Jack didn’t know whether to run away, or lie flat on the
grass. While he was hesitating, he heard the old man say, “’Twas
robbery, downright robbery! House-breakin’,—a clear case! The rogues
have got off with their booty, but this ain’t the last on’t, they’ll
find!”
“State-prison job,” replied the nephew, “if I know anything about law.
The fact that a piece of property is in litigation don’t justify one
claimant in entering burglariously the premises of another claimant and
stealing said piece of property.”
“I’ll have out a s’arch-warrant,” Peternot declared, “and seize that
coin wherever it can be found. If the deacon’s boys are mixed up in’t,
they’ll find it’s a sorry business!”
Jack grew faint at heart, as he watched and listened. The men with the
lantern and club passed the window through which he had escaped, and
paused for a minute or more to examine the ground all about the
lilac-bush. They found footprints, but he heard nothing about either hat
or shoes. They then passed on, and the door closed behind them as they
entered the house.
Troubled with heavy misgivings, feeling that he would give almost
anything to be well out of this scrape, Jack rose and slunk away,
without attempting to solve the mystery of the hat and shoes. He was no
longer so anxious as he had been to get the money once more into his
possession; and finding Hank and Tug faithful to their appointment, he
said to them, “When you find Cub, hide the money, and keep it till you
hear from me.” And he told them of the threatened search-warrant.
Hank swore fidelity to Jack’s interest; and the wretched boy,—never more
wretched in mind, in all his checkered life, than at that hour,—parting
from the brothers on the border of the woods, hurried home, and reached
Deacon Chatford’s house just as the moon was appearing above the eastern
clouds. The windows were dark; the folks had all gone to bed, leaving
the kitchen door unfastened for him. He entered softly; but as he was
going up to his room, the voice of Mrs. Chatford called to him, “That
you, Jack?”
“Yes ’m.”
“What made you so late?”
“I didn’t think it was so late,” replied Jack; “I’m sorry if I’ve kept
you awake.”
“Never mind, if you have come home all right. It was thoughtful in you
to take off your shoes. I wasn’t asleep; I couldn’t help feeling anxious
about you.”
How kind, how good she was! Jack, filled with a sense of guilt and
dread, longed to go to her bedside and relieve his burdened heart by
confessing what he had done. But just then the deacon spoke, in the
impatient tone of one whose sleep had been disturbed: “Did you bolt the
door?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, get quiet as soon as you can. I want to sleep.”
And Jack went on up the dark stairway to his lonely bed.
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