Rayton: A Backwoods Mystery Part 33

"What in thunder would he be doing out there?"

"That's what we must find out," said the captain. "Perhaps he was drunk and didn't know where he was going. Or perhaps he was bound for Blue Hill station to catch a train. Heaven only knows!"

"How is the road?"

"Very fair, as far as I went."

"Then I'll hitch the horses into the sled, and we'll light out on his trail," said the trapper.

And that is what happened. Goodine and Doctor Nash set off at a brisk trot in the sled, taking Captain Wigmore along with them as far as his own gate. He gave them some exact information as to the place where he had picked up the knife. He said that he was sorry that he could not go along with them, but he was an old man and very tired. So they drove on without him. Several teams had been hauling timber and cordwood that way since the snow, so the road was in very good condition.

They reached the spot--or as near it as they could tell--where Wigmore claimed to have found the knife, and spent half an hour in searching the woods on both sides of the road. Needless to say, they found no further trace of Mr. Banks. Then they went on all the way to Blue Hill Corner and the railway station. The distance was fourteen miles--fourteen long miles. At the village and the station they made inquiries, but no one there had seen the big New Yorker. He had not left by the morning train.

They remained to dinner at Blue Hill Corner, searched the surrounding country after dinner, then set out on the homeward road, making frequent stops to hunt about in the woods. It was close upon sunset when they reached Samson's Mill Settlement. d.i.c.k Goodine was depressed, and Doctor Nash was in a bad temper.

"Darn this country, anyway!" exclaimed Nash. "It's full of a lot of savages--and crooks. And what's to become of my practice if I have to spend all my time hunting round for Banks? To h.e.l.l with it!"

Early in the afternoon of the same day, Nell Harley received an unexpected visit. It was from Maggie Leblanc. Jim was away, still searching for the lost New Yorker, and Kate was busy in the sewing room upstairs.

"I wanter tell'e somethin' very particular," said Maggie, in a faint voice and with a flurried manner. "Let me tell ye all by yerself. It--it be mighty particular."

"Is it about Mr. Banks? Do you know where he is?" asked Nell anxiously.

"No, it ain't about him," replied Maggie Leblanc. "I don't know nothin'

about him."

Nell led the way to the sitting room, and motioned her visitor to a chair by the fire.

"Has--has anything happened to--Mr. Rayton?" she asked.

Maggie shook her head. "No! No! It is about me--an' d.i.c.k Goodine." She brushed her eyes furtively with the back of her hand. "I liked d.i.c.k,"

she continued unsteadily; "but he didn't seem to care. Then I--begun to feel's if I hated him. I knew him an' Davy Marsh was bad friends, so I begun to try to get d.i.c.k inter trouble with Davy--an' maybe with the law. After Davy's canoe upsot in the rapids that day, I went an' found the broken pole in the pool, an' fixed an end of it so's it looked like it had been cut halfway through. Then I put it up on a rock so's it would be found.

"I knowed folks would think d.i.c.k done it because he an' Davy wasn't good friends, an' he was the last man Davy seen afore he started upstream that day. d.i.c.k helped Davy to load the canoe. Then--then _I_ sot fire to Davy's camp. But when d.i.c.k said as how he didn't fire the camp nor cut the pole, most every one seemed to believe him. I was feelin' different about d.i.c.k by that time--mighty sorry I tried to hurt him. But I was afeared to tell anybody what I done. Davy Marsh is that mean an' small, he'd have the law on me. Then Mr. Rayton, he got shot--an' then Mr.

Banks, he got lost; an' this mornin' d.i.c.k Goodine up an' tells yer brother, an' Doc Nash, an' a whole bunch more, as how it was him shot Mr. Rayton."

"Yes. Jim told me of it. He mistook Mr. Rayton for a deer," said Nell.

"But some folks don't believe as how he took him for a deer," said Maggie. "It's the talk all over the settlement now--an' old Captain Wigmore, he be makin' a terrible story of it all. He has started up talk about what happened to Dave Marsh ag'in. He's makin' it look 'sif d.i.c.k done everything--an' like 'sif he done something to Mr. Banks, too.

An' there be plenty of fools in this settlement to listen to him. So I'm tellin' ye the truth about who sot fire to Davy Marsh's camp. Davy don't know it himself. He says d.i.c.k done it--when d.i.c.k ain't lookin'. But I done it--an' 'twas me doctored that piece of canoe pole that broke by accident first of all--an' I'm willin' to swear to it on the book!"

"You need not swear it to me," said Nell Harley. "I believe what you have told me--every word of it--though it is a terrible thing! And I believe whatever d.i.c.k Goodine says. What can I do to help d.i.c.k?"

"I guess you like d.i.c.k pretty well," said Maggie Leblanc, with a swift, sidewise glance of her black eyes. "An' d.i.c.k likes you. That's why I got mad at him, an' Wigmore an' some other folks say that's why he shot at Mr. Rayton."

"Surely not!" cried Nell, in distress. "How can he say such things? Oh!

I am growing to detest that old man--with his everlasting smile. As for d.i.c.k--why, he scarcely knows me. And he is Reginald's friend. And he knows--of course he knows--that--that Reginald and I--love each other."

Maggie Leblanc nodded her head vigorously and smiled.

"Don't you fret yerself," she said. "If he don't know it, then I'll tell him."

Her eyes clouded again instantly. "I guess ye can help d.i.c.k by just tellin' yer brother Jim what I told ye. Then he'll stand up fer d.i.c.k--him and Mr. Rayton will--an' what old Cap'n Wigmore says won't harm him much, I guess."

"I will tell him. He will be on d.i.c.k's side, of course," said Nell. And then, "But why is Captain Wigmore trying to get d.i.c.k into trouble? What has he against d.i.c.k?"

"Maybe he's just tryin' to keep folks from lookin' too close at his own doin's," said Maggie.

Nell Harley nodded, but said neither yes nor no. The thought was in her own mind. Captain Wigmore, the recent troubles and mysteries, and the marked cards had been a.s.sociated in her thoughts of late.

Jim Harley got home in time for supper. He told of a fruitless search; and then Nell told of Maggie Leblanc's amazing confession. Jim sighed as if with sudden relief. After a minute of reflective silence, he said: "But, still, the accidents followed the cards--except in this last case.

How are we to explain that--and the cards themselves? First, it was Davy Marsh, and then Rayton; but the card was never dealt to Mr. Banks!"

"Which shows that your foolish old curse is going all wrong," said his wife.

"Reginald does not believe in the curse--and neither do I," said Nell.

"Whoever did the injuries, and whoever dealt the cards, the injuries have followed the dealing of the cards," said Jim gloomily.

"Except in this last case," said his wife. "It looks to me as if Fate, or whatever you call it, is getting itself mixed up."

After supper, Jim, and his wife, and sister, all went over to see Reginald Rayton. A fresh force of men had taken up the hunt for Mr.

Banks, and parties had started for every village and settlement within a radius of thirty miles. The Harleys found Reginald in the sitting room, in company with d.i.c.k Goodine and Doctor Nash. Rumor of old Wigmore's campaign against the trapper had already reached them, and they were talking it over. Nash was bitter.

"The old devil tried to put it on me," he said, "and maybe he would have succeeded if d.i.c.k hadn't confessed. Just wait till I see him! d.i.c.k shot Rayton; but it was Wigmore himself who fired Marsh's camp--yes, and who's at the bottom of many more of these tricks!"

Then Nell Harley told them what Maggie Leblanc had confessed to her. The silence that followed the story was broken by d.i.c.k Goodine.

"She told you that!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "She told it herself? To save me? Where is she now?"

He was about to leave the room when the door opened and he was confronted by Captain Wigmore.

CHAPTER XX

THE CHOSEN INSTRUMENT OF FATE

Mr. Banks and Timothy Fletcher stood in Captain Wigmore's hall, breathing quietly and straining eyes and ears. All was silent. All seemed safe. Banks opened the door. The little porch was empty. He stepped across the threshold, followed closely by the staggering Fletcher. They pushed open the door of the porch, and stumbled out of that horrible house, into the frosty moonshine, onto the crisp snow. No lurking danger confronted them. They were free.

"Thank G.o.d!" cried Harvey P. Banks, hysterically.

The air was bitterly cold, and the two fugitives were without overcoats.

They were so overjoyed to find themselves free men again, however, that they felt no discomfort from the gnawing of the frozen air. The little servant clung to the big sportsman; and so they moved down the narrow path and through the gate onto the highway.

"He's played his last dirty trick on me--or any one else," mumbled Fletcher. "I've stood 'im too long--too long! Now, he'll go back where he come from--the grinnin' snake!"

He leaned heavily on Banks' arm and laughed shrilly.