MY UNCLE ENOS
John Stumpy gave a smile of triumph. As for myself, I stood aghast.
Mr. Aaron Woodward had committed deliberate perjury, or at least,
something that amounted to the same thing. He had positively declared
that John Stumpy was at his house at the time of the robbery of Widow
Canby's house, and could not, therefore, be the guilty party.
It was easy to guess that in this statement it was his intention to
screen his partner in iniquity. To be sure, he had been forced to take
the position by Stumpy himself, but once having taken it, I was
morally certain he would not back down.
His action would make it harder than ever for me to clear myself and
bring the tramp to justice. His word in a court of law would carry
more weight than mine or my sister's, and consequently our case would
fall to the ground.
I was glad that Dick Blair could testify concerning my whereabouts and
the scene in the dining room directly after the robbery. The merchant
knew nothing of Blair's presence on the occasion--at least I imagined
so from his conversation--and might, by saying too much, "put his
foot in it."
But now my mind was filled with only one thought. The three men
intended to take me to the Darbyville jail. I was to be ignominiously
dragged back to the prison from which I had escaped.
Once again in Ezekiel Booth's custody I was certain he would keep so
strict a guard over me that further breaking away would be out of the
question. Perhaps Judge Penfold would consider me so dangerous a
prisoner as to send me to the county jail for safe keeping, in which
case it would be harder than ever for me to clear myself or see Kate.
For an instant I meditated taking to my legs and running my chances,
but this idea was knocked in the head by Farmer Decker grasping me by
the collar.
"Maybe he might take a notion and run away," he explained. "He did it
once, you say."
"A good idea to hold him," said Mr. Woodward. "Have you finished
hitching up?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you room for him?"
"I might put in another seat."
"Do so. And hurry; the rain has slackened up a bit, and we may reach
Darbyville before it starts again."
The extra seat was soon placed in the carriage. Then the farmer
procured a couple of rubber blankets.
"All ready now," he said. "How shall we sit?"
"You and Mr. Stumpy sit in front. I and the boy will occupy the back
seat. Come, Strong, get in."
For an instant I thought of refusing. The merchant had no right to
order me. But then I reflected that a refusal would do no good, and
might do harm, so without a word I entered the carriage.
The others were not slow to follow. Then Farmer Decker chirruped to
Billy, and we rolled out of the farm yard and down the road.
But little was said on the way. I was busy with my own thoughts, and
so were Mr. Woodward and Stumpy. The farmer asked several questions,
but the merchant said he would learn all he wished to know at the
judge's office, and this quieted him.
About five o'clock in the afternoon we rolled into Darbyville. While
crossing the Pass River the sun had burst through the clouds, and now
all was as bright and fresh as ever.
Judge Penfold's office was situated in the centre of the principal
business block. When we arrived there we found a number of men
standing about the door, no doubt discussing my escape, for they
uttered many exclamations of surprise on seeing me.
Chief among them was Parsons, who looked pale and worried.
"Roger Strong!" he exclaimed. "Where have you been?"
"Took a walk for my health," I replied as lightly as I could, though
my heart was heavy.
"Well, I guess we'll make sure it shan't happen again," he returned.
"Hi, there, Booth! Here's your prisoner come back!"
In a moment the carpenter appeared upon the scene.
"You rascal, you!" he cried in angry tones. "A fine peck of trouble
you've got yourself into!"
"What's all this about?" asked a heavy voice from the stairs, and
Judge Penfold stood before me.
"I have brought your prisoner back, judge," replied Mr. Woodward.
"So I see. Well, Strong, what have you to say for yourself? Do you
know breaking jail is a serious offence?"
"I don't know anything about it. I know I was locked up for nothing at
all, and I escaped at the first chance offered."
"There was no chance offered at all, judge," broke in Booth, fearful
of having a reflection cast upon his character. "He just went and
ripped the hull floor up, that's what he did."
"Silence, Booth! Come upstairs and we will hear the particulars."
In a moment we were in Judge Penfold's office. I was told to take a
seat on a bench, with Booth on one side of me and Parsons on the
other.
Then Mr. Woodward introduced John Stumpy as a friend from San Antonio,
Texas, and the two told their story, corroborated at its end by Farmer
Decker, who trembled from head to foot at the idea of addressing as
high a dignitary as Judge Penfold.
"What have you to say to this, Strong?" I was asked.
In a plain, straightforward way I told my story from beginning to end,
told it in a manner that did not fail to impress nearly every one in
the court-room but the judge and my accusers.
Of course Mr. Woodward and John Stumpy stoutly denied all I said, and
their denial carried the day.
"Until we can have a real trial I will send you back to jail," said
Judge Penfold.
"Why don't you send John Stumpy to jail, too?" I asked. "He is as much
accused as I."
"We have only your word for that."
"Then let me send for my sister Kate and Dick Blair."
Judge Penfold rubbed his chin reflectively.
"I think I'll have to put you under bonds," he said to John Stumpy.
"Why so? The boy's word doesn't amount to anything," put in Mr.
Woodward.
"Only a matter of form, Mr. Woodward. I will make it a thousand
dollars. Will you go his bondsman?"
"Of course he will," said John Stumpy, hastily. "Won't you?"
The merchant winced. "I--I guess so," he stammered. "But it's a
strange proceeding."
In a few moments, by the aid of two other men, the bond was made out.
"I will make your bail a thousand dollars also," said Judge Penfold,
turning to me. "I suppose it's quite useless though," he added
sarcastically.
"Not quite so useless as you might think," exclaimed a hearty voice
from the rear of the court-room.
I thought I recognized the tones, and turned hastily. There beside my
sister Kate stood my uncle, Enos Moss, of whom I have already spoken.
He was a grizzly bearded sea-captain of seventy, with manner and
speech suggestive of the brine.
Breaking from Parsons and Booth, I ran to meet him. He shook both my
hands and then clapped me on the shoulder.
"Cast up on a lee shore, are you, Roger?" he exclaimed. "And the wind
a-blowing a hurricane."
"Yes, I am," I replied, "and I'm mighty glad you've come, Uncle Enos."
"Just dropped anchor in time," he went on. "Judge Penfold, do you
remember me?"
"You are Carson Strong's brother-in-law, I believe?" replied the
judge.
"You've hit it. Captain Enos Moss, part owner and sailing master of
the Hattie Baker, as trim a craft as ever rounded the Horn. Been away
for three years, and now on shore to stay."
"You're not going on any more voyages?" I queried.
"No, my hearty. I've made enough to keep me, and I'm getting too old
to walk the quarter-deck. Besides, I've heard of your father's
troubles from Kate, and I reckon they need sounding."
"Indeed they do."
"Well, now about your difficulty. A thousand-dollar bond, eh. It's
pretty stiff, but I guess I can stand it."
"Thank you, sir," was all I could say.
"Don't say a word. Didn't your father put in a good word for me when I
was a-courting your aunt that's dead and gone--God bless her! Indeed,
he did! And I'll stand by you, Roger, no matter how hard the gale
blows."
"Then you don't think I'm guilty?"
"What! a lad with your bearing a thief? Not much. The people in this
village must be asleep--not to know better'n that?"
"Ahem!" coughed Judge Penfold, sternly. He considered my uncle's
remarks decidedly impertinent. "Are you able to go his bail?" he
asked.
"Reckon I am. I've just deposited ten thousand dollars in the bank
here, and I've got twenty and more in New York. How will you have
it--in cash?"
"A conditional check, certified, will do," replied Judge Penfold,
shortly.
What he meant had to be explained, and then we all went to the
banker's office. My uncle's account was found to be as he had stated,
and about ten minutes later my bond was signed and I was at liberty to
go where I pleased until called upon to appear.
Mr. Aaron Woodward and John Stumpy apparently did not relish the turn
affairs had taken. But I paid no attention to them, and the business
over, I hurried off with my sister and my newly arrived uncle.
"Did you find the statement?" I asked of Kate, as soon as we were out
of hearing of the crowd.
"No, Roger, I looked and looked, but it wasn't anywhere, either at the
tool house or on the way to Judge Penfold's."
"Have you heard from Mrs. Canby yet?"
"Yes, she is coming home."
"Does she blame me for what has happened?"
"She doesn't say."
"Never mind, Roger. We'll stick up for you," put in Uncle Enos,
kindly.
I was considerably disturbed. What if Mrs. Canby should consider me at
fault?
As we drew near to the cottage, I saw a lady standing by the gate,
watching our approach. It was the Widow Canby.