Jess of the Rebel Trail Part 35

"I don't want you to go to any trouble for me," Mrs. Grimsby remarked.

"But I feel that I must get on my way as soon as possible. Gabe may be home at any minute, and he will be very angry if I am not there when he comes."

"Don't you worry about Gabe," John a.s.sured her. "I shall settle with him if he makes a fuss when I am there,"

"Oh, but he will wait until you get away, and then he'll begin. He's a terrible man when he's angry, and he is angry most of the time when he's home. Be careful about marrying, Miss," and she turned to Jess.

"If you make a mistake and get the wrong man, you might as well put an end to your life at once. It will be better than slow torture through the years. I don't blame that poor girl who drowned herself rather than marry the man she didn't love. You have heard about it, I suppose. And they haven't found her body yet."

Jess tried not to show any sign of agitation at these words, but her hands trembled slightly. John noted this, so, pushing back his chair, he rose from the table.

"You must not judge all men by your husband, Mrs. Grimsby. Gabe is in a cla.s.s by himself, and I am sorry for you. Just make yourself as comfortable as you can here, and I shall hurry up with my work and get you home as soon as possible."

In about an hour John was ready, and Mrs. Hampton stood at the gate watching the car as it sped down the road. She was really glad to be alone, for the events of the afternoon had been of a disturbing nature.

She thought of Hettie and her trials. How astonished the poor woman would have been had she known the truth about Jess! She went back again in memory to that night at the hospital almost twenty years ago.

Hettie was a buxom girl then, full of life and animation, not much like the thin dragged-out creature of to-day. Twenty years! And the two babies, innocent p.a.w.ns in the unscrupulous bargain, had again drifted together as ardent lovers. What would they think if they knew the truth? In what light would they consider the woman who had taken part in the transaction? Her mind was in a tumult. She felt that it would be fatal to tell them. And yet she did want to claim the girl as her very own, that she might know a real mother's love.

Going back into the house, she took from a drawer the roll of bills Mrs. Grimsby had given her. She held it in her hand for a few minutes.

It was a part of the money she had paid for silence, and now it had come back. Hettie's honesty and n.o.bleness of soul touched her deeply.

With the crying needs of a large family how many a woman would have kept and used the money? What a temptation! Mechanically she counted the bills--seventy-five dollars. Gabe Grimsby must have been very drunk when he overlooked such a sum. How great would be his anger when he found that the money was not in the house upon his return from the city.

Replacing the roll in the drawer, Mrs. Hampton attended to some household duties. Then she went out upon the verandah to await the young people's return. She was glad to lean back in the chair and rest, for she was tired. The sun had gone down beyond the distant hills, and the long twilight was slowly waning. It was a beautiful evening, and the gentle breeze of the afternoon had sunk to rest with the sun. The smooth surface of the river caught and reflected the glory of departing day, while the trees along the sh.o.r.e stood clearly silhouetted against the silent river. There was peace upon water and land, broken only by the sweet song of a vesper sparrow, and the tingling of a bell from a distant pasture.

But to the woman sitting alone upon the verandah there was no peace.

Her heart and mind were in a tumult of conflicting emotion. She was thinking of the girl who had come so unexpectedly into her life and home. The silence and restraint of long years had at last reached their climax. A mother's pa.s.sionate love possessed her soul, and an intense affection for the child of her womb swept like an overmastering current through her very being. The girl was hers, she must keep her, and she was determined that no power on earth should take her from her.

She was suddenly aroused from her reverie by the sound of an auto upon the road. It drew up and stopped right in front of the gate. A man at once alighted and walked rapidly toward the house. Mrs. Hampton rose and met him just as he stepped upon the verandah. The visitor was a middle-aged man, of overbearing manner. He had not the courtesy to remove his hat in the presence of the woman, nor to take the big cigar he was smoking from his mouth. In an instant the thought flashed into Mrs. Hampton's mind that this was the man who had come to take away her daughter. She had been dreading his appearance, and now he was before her.

"I am Henry Randall," the man announced, "and I am looking for my daughter. Is she here?"

"Your daughter!" Mrs. Hampton replied. "Why are you searching for her here? Did she not drown herself?"

A heartless laugh broke from the man's lips, as he took the cigar from his mouth, and flicked off the ashes. He looked piercingly at the woman as if expecting to see her quail. But Mrs. Hampton's eyes never flinched for an instant. She was angry at the man's manner of approach, and when a quiet woman is aroused there is need for caution.

"Why don't you answer my question?" the man asked. "I want to know if my daughter is here? She didn't drown herself, though she deserves to be drowned for the way she has acted."

"No, your daughter is not here," Mrs. Hampton quietly replied.

"Not here!" Randall plainly showed his surprise. "Why, I was told that she came to your house."

"Then you were wrongly informed. Your daughter has never been inside my house."

"And you have not seen her?"

"No, I have never met her. You will have to search elsewhere."

"That is strange, madame, very strange. Didn't your son bring a girl here who was injured at the stone quarry?"

"That is quite true, sir. My daughter received a slight injury at the quarry, and it was she my son brought home."

The man frowned and bit savagely at his cigar.

"Confound it all!" he growled. "What am I to do?"

"Why not go to the quarry," Mrs. Hampton suggested. "You may learn something there."

"That is the only thing I can do, I suppose," and the man sighed.

"But, by the way, where is your son now? And your daughter, too, for that matter?"

"They went down the road but a short time ago. Didn't you meet them?

They were in a car."

"We met several cars, but I didn't see anything of your son. I know him quite well, for let me tell you, madame, he and my daughter are very fond of each other. I believe that he is the cause of all this trouble."

"I am surprised to hear you say such a thing, sir. Are you sure that my son lured your daughter away from home?"

"I am certain of it, and what is more, I intend to push this matter to the extreme limit of the law. I must see your son. When do you expect him back?"

"Sometime this evening. But when John and Betty go off in the car it is hard to tell when they will return. You will have time to go to the quarry. Most likely they will be home when you get back."

Mrs. Hampton tried to conceal her agitation as she waited to learn how the man would treat her suggestion. It was her only hope, and she watched him closely. She felt like a drowning person grasping at a straw. If she could get this man away, and if John and Jess would soon return, something yet might be accomplished.

"Well, I suppose I might as well go on to the quarry," Randall growled as he pulled out his watch. "I expected that my journey would end here, and by this time I would have that foolish girl safe under my care. I do not know what is coming over young people these days."

In another minute he was gone, and when the car had disappeared in a whirl of dust, Mrs. Hampton sank down upon the top step of the verandah and buried her face in her hands. She was trembling violently, and felt very weak. The ordeal through which she had just pa.s.sed had unnerved her. What was she to do? she asked herself. How was she to save her child? She lifted her head and listened intently, hoping to hear the purr of John's car. But no sound greeted her attentive ears, listen as she might.

Presently she aroused herself and rose quickly to her feet. An idea had come into her mind which stirred her to activity. Going at once into the house, she set busily to work both upstairs and down, and in less than a half hour she had several rolls of blankets and quilts lying on the hall floor, and two baskets filled with dishes and provisions. She was standing wondering what else she needed, when she heard John's quick step upon the verandah.

"Mother," he began, catching sight of her. Then he paused in amazement when he saw the bundles and baskets lying upon the floor. "What in the world are you going to do with these?" he asked. "Is anything the matter?"

In as few words as possible Mrs. Hampton explained the situation, and the urgency of speedy flight. "We must go to the lake, John, and hide Jess there. You don't want Mr. Randall to take her away, do you?"

"Indeed I don't," was the emphatic reply. "Oh, mother, it is good of you to do all this, and help us to keep Jess. We can go at once before Randall comes back."

Picking up the two bundles, he hurried out of the house, and was back again in a few minutes for the baskets.

"You lock up, mother," he said. "I will turn the car. We can explain everything to Jess on the way."

As they sped down the road, Mrs. Hampton explained the reason for their hurried flight. The girl was greatly pleased, and delighted at the idea of hiding in the wilderness.

"It is so good of you to help me in my trouble," she replied. "My father is a determined man, if he once gets his hands on me I shall be helpless. But suppose he finds out where I am?"

"It is hardly likely. But if he does you can leave everything to me."

For some distance they followed the main highway, and at length turned off upon a road leading back into the hills. This was little used, so John had to exercise the greatest care in handling the car. It was hard enough in day-time, but at night it was extremely difficult. He had to drive very slowly, and at times branches of trees sc.r.a.ped the sides of the car.

"This was once called 'The Rebel Trail,'" he explained to Jess after they had climbed a steeper hill than any they had yet encountered.

"What a funny name!" the girl replied. "How did it get such a name as that?"