Down the Ravine Part 14

The sulphurous odor grew stronger. Even Towse stopped short, and gazed at the shovel with a reprehensive sniff.

"Ker-shoo!" he sneezed.

And commenting thus, he turned abruptly and went hastily out, with a startled look and a downcast tail.

His sneeze seemed to break the spell of silence that had fallen on the little group.

"It be mighty nigh bodaciously changed ter cinders!" exclaimed Birt, staring in amaze at the l.u.s.treless contents of the shovel from which every suggestion of golden glimmer had faded. "What do it be, ef 'tain't gold?"

"Iron pyrites," said the professor. "'Fools' gold,' it is often called."

He explained to Birt that in certain formations, however, gold is a.s.sociated with iron pyrites, and when the mineral is properly roasted, this process serving to expel the sulphur, the fine particles of gold are found held in the resulting oxide of iron.

But the variety of the mineral discovered down the ravine he said was valueless, unless occurring in vast quant.i.ties, when it is sometimes utilized in the production of sulphur.

"I wonder," Birt broke out suddenly, "if the a.s.sayer won't find no gold in them samples ez Nate sent him."

The professor laughed. "The a.s.sayer will need the 'philosopher's stone' to find gold in any samples from this locality."

"Ye knowed then, all the time, ez this stuff warn't gold?" asked Birt.

"All the time," rejoined the elder.

"An' Nate hev got the steepest, rockiest spot in the kentry ter pay taxes on," resumed Birt, reflectively. "An' he hev sh.e.l.led out a power o' money ter the surveyor, an' sech, a'ready. I reckon he'll be mightily outed when he finds out ez the min'ral ain't gold."

Birt stopped short in renewed anxiety.

That missing grant! Somehow he felt sure that Nate, balked of the great gains he had promised himself, would wreak his disappointment wherever he might; and since the land was of so little value, he would not continue to deny himself his revenge for fear that an investigation into the priority of the mineral's discovery might invalidate the entry. Once more Birt was tortured by the terror of arrest--he might yet suffer a prosecution from malignity, which had hitherto been withheld from policy. If only the mystery of the lost grant could be solved!

The conversation of the elders had returned to the subject of the investigations around the "lick" and the terms for Birt's services.

As so much time had been consumed with the pyrites, the professor concluded with some vexation that they could hardly arrange all the preliminaries and get to work this afternoon.

"I dare say we had best begin to-morrow morning," he said at last.

"Birt can't go a-diggin' no-ways, this evenin'," put in the officious Rufe, who stood, according to his wont, listening with his mouth and eyes wide open, "'kase ez I kem home by the tanyard Jube Perkins hollered ter me ter tell Birt ter come thar right quick. I furgot it till this minit," he added, with a shade of embarra.s.sment that might pa.s.s for apology.

Birt felt a prophetic thrill. This summons promised developments of importance. Only a few hours ago he was discharged under suspicion of dishonesty; why this sudden recall? He did not know whether hope or fear was paramount. He trembled with eager expectancy. He seized his hat, and strode out of the house without waiting to hear more of the professor's plans or the details of the wages.

He had reached the fence before he discovered Tennessee close at his heels. He cast his troubled eyes down upon her, and met her pleading, upturned gaze. He was about to charge her to go back.

But then he remembered how she had followed him with blessings--how mercy had kept pace with her steps. He would not deny her the simple boon she craved, and if she were troublesome and in his way, surely he might be patient with her, since she loved him so! He lifted her over the fence, and then started briskly down the path, the st.u.r.dy, light-footed little mountain girl delightedly trudging along in the rear.

When he entered the tanyard no one was there except Jube Perkins and Andy Byers the tanner, lounging as usual on the wood-pile, and the workman, with scarcely less the aspect of idleness, dawdlingly sc.r.a.ping a hide on the wooden horse. Birt discerned a portent in the unwonted solemnity of their faces, and his heart sank.

"Waal, Birt, we-uns hev been a-waitin' fur ye," said the tanner in a subdued, grave tone that somehow reminded Birt of the bated voices in a house of death. "Set down hyar on the wood-pile, fur Andy an'

me hev got a word ter say ter ye."

Birt's dilated black eyes turned in dumb appeal from one to the other as he sank down on the wood-pile. His suspense gnawed him like an actual grief while Jubal Perkins slowly shifted his position and looked vaguely at Andy Byers for a suggestion, being uncertain how to begin.

"Waal, Birt," he drawled at last, "ez yer dad is dead an' ye hev got n.o.body ter see arter ye an' advise ye, Andy an' me, we-uns agreed ez how we'd talk ter ye right plain, an' try ter git ye ter jedge o'

this hyar matter like we-uns do. Andy an' me know more 'bout the law, an' 'bout folks too, than ye does. These hyar Griggs folks hev always been mis...o...b..ed ez a fractious an' contrary-wise fambly. Ef enny Griggs ain't aggervatin' an' captious, it air through bein'

plumb terrified by the t'others. They air powerful hard folks--an'

they'll land ye in the State Prison yet, I'm thinkin'. I wonder they hain't started at ye a'ready. But thar's no countin' on 'em, 'ceptin' that they'll do all they kin that air ha'sh an' grindin'."

"That air a true word, Birt," said Andy Byers, speaking to the boy for the first time in many days. "Ef they hev thar reason fur it, they mought hold thar hand fur a time, but fust or las' they'll hev all out'n ye ez the law will allow 'em."

Birt listened in desperation. All this was sharpened by the certainty that the mineral was only valueless pyrites, and the prescience of Nate's anger when this fact should come to his knowledge, and prudence no longer restrain him. His rage would vent itself on his luckless victim for every cent, every mill, that the discovery of the "fools' gold" had cost him.

"They'll be takin' ye away from the mountings ter jail ye an' try ye, an' mebbe ye'll go ter the pen'tiary arter that. An' how will yer mother, an' brothers, an' sister, git thar vittles, an'

firewood, an' corn-c.r.a.p an' clothes, an' sech--Rufe bein' the oldest child, arter you-uns?" demanded the tanner. "An' even when ye git back--I hate ter tell ye this word--n.o.body will want ye round.

They'll be feared ye'd be forever pickin' an' stealin'."

"But we-uns will stand up fur ye, bein' ez ye air the widder's son,"

said Byers eagerly. "We-uns will gin the Griggs tribe ter onderstand that."

"An' mebbe the Griggses won't want ter do nuthin', ef they hain't got no furder cause fur holdin' a grudge," put in the tanner.

"What be ye a-layin' off fur me ter do?" asked Birt wonderingly.

"Ter gin Nate's grant back ter him," they both replied in a breath.

"I hev not got it!" cried poor Birt tumultuously. "I never stole it! I dunno whar it be!"

The tanner's expression changed from paternal kindliness to contemptuous anger.

"Air ye goin' ter keep on bein' a liar, Birt, ez well ez a thief?"

he said sternly.

"I dunno whar it be," reiterated Birt desperately.

"_I_ know whar it be," said Byers. Birt gazed at him astounded.

"Whar?" he cried eagerly.

"Whar ye hid it," returned Byers coolly.

Birt's lips moved with difficulty as he huskily e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed "I never hid it--I never!"

"Ye needn't deny it. I ez good ez seen ye hide it."

Birt looked dazed for a moment. Then the blood rushed to his face and as suddenly receded, leaving it pale and rigid. He was cold and trembling. He could not speak.

The tanner scrutinized him narrowly. Then he said, "Tell him 'bout it, Andy. Tell him jes' ez ye tole me. An' mebbe he'll hev sense enough ter gin it up when he sees he air fairly caught."

"Waal," said Byers, leaning back against the wall of the smoke- house, and holding the knife idly poised in his hand, "I kem down ter the tanyard betimes that mornin' arter the storm. Both ye an'

Birt war late. I noticed Nate Griggs's coat hangin' thar in the shed, with a paper stickin' out'n the pocket, ez I started inter the smoke-house ter tend ter the fire. I reckon I mus' hev made consider'ble racket in thar, 'kase I never hearn nuthin' till I sot down afore the fire on a log o' wood, an' lit my pipe. All of a suddenty thar kem a step outside, toler'ble light on the tan. I jes' 'lowed 't war ye or Birt. But I happened ter look up, an' thar I see a couple o' big black eyes peepin' through that thar crack in the wall."

He turned and pointed out a crevice where the "daubin'" had fallen from the "c.h.i.n.kin'" between the logs.

"Ye can see," he resumed, "ez this hyar crack air jes' the height o'

Birt. Waal, them eyes lookin' in so onexpected didn't 'sturb me none. I hev knowed the Dicey eye fur thirty year, an' thar ain't none like 'em nowhar round the mountings. But I 'lowed 't war toler'ble sa.s.sy in Birt ter stand thar peerin' at me through the c.h.i.n.kin'. I never let on, though, ez I viewed him. An' then, them eyes jes' set up sech a outdacious winkin' an' wallin', an'