The Hills of Refuge Part 33

"Well, go back now, Mike, and I'll be in to see you to-night. It may be as late as eleven o'clock, but I'll not fail. Wait up for me. There are many things to be inquired about, but first that other business must be attended to."

"About the young lady, sir?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there, Mr. Charles, and I'll be guarded in my conduct, you may be sure. I'll get directions from you later. Come straight to my room, sir."

"One other question, Mike, before you go." Charles lowered the hoe which he had put on his shoulder and leaned on it.

"Did the--the thing I did at the bank harm my brother financially? Is he still employed there? You see, I was afraid that, on my account--"

"Oh, that is all over with, sir. Your brother, if anything, stands higher than ever. You see, that was due to your uncle James."

"To Uncle James!"

"Yes, sir. You know he came home from Europe very soon after you left.

He took a high hand at the bank--bought up all the floating stock and only recently was made the president. I have hoped, sir, that, that being the case, the charges against you would be dismissed. You see, I know, Mr. Charles, and they must know, that you were unconscious of what you were doing. I myself have seen you, sir, when you were in a condition that--"

"Well, never mind that," and Charles seemed to shrink within himself, shouldered his hoe, and turned. "We'll talk it all over at the hotel to-night."

On reaching the house he found that the family and the guest had already supped. He went into the dining-room and sat in his accustomed place. He heard voices from the veranda, and knew that Mary, her father, and Frazier were seated there. Aunt Zilla brought his supper, and he apologized for his delay.

"Dat's all right, Mr. Brown." She smiled significantly. "Young Miss done tol' me dat you was doin' er favor fer 'er. You could stay till daybreak, fer all I care--she is in so much trouble. My Gawd! ef you des could 'a' looked at 'er while she was settin' eatin' 'side dat low rapscallion ter-night, you'd 'a' pitied 'er like I done do. I could 'a'

poured de scaldin' coffee down his thick bull neck fum behind when I fetched it in. Why, you kin tell fum de looks of 'im dat his money is all he got! Huh! I say!"

She vanished through the door of her sanctum, letting it shut with a bang that shook the wooden part.i.tion.

Presently Charles was conscious of the entry into the room of some one whose step was soundless. It was Mary. She fairly crept into the circle of lamplight from the unlighted hall and sitting-room. Sinking into the chair next to his, she whispered:

"I slipped away. I had to. I couldn't wait to know. Did you find out what--who--"

She was at a loss for words, and he smiled rea.s.suringly. "It was all a mistake. The man Kenneth saw was looking for me. He is an old friend from up North, and a trusty one. He acted oddly, but--but he is rather eccentric, and he was somewhat afraid that I might not want to see him."

"Oh! then it wasn't a detective?"

"No, only an old friend of mine whom I have not seen for some time. I'm sorry it caused you such a fright."

"That doesn't matter." Mary rose, her eyes on the door leading to the veranda. She stood as if listening. The alternate mumbling of two masculine voices came in on the sultry air. She sighed, looked down at Charles, and he saw that the light of relief which had illumined her face had already died down.

"That is out of the way," she whispered, as if to herself in part, "but something almost as bad has come."

"You mean--?" He stood up to keep her company, and saw her sweep her eyes furtively toward the door again.

She nodded as if he had finished a remark that she fully understood.

"Albert says that the doctors held another consultation just before he left Carlin this afternoon. They decided that Tobe must be removed to-morrow night at the latest. He came to tell me and to drive me to town with him in the morning."

"And you are going to--allow _him_ to furnish the money?"

She nodded again, her face averted. "I've tried everywhere, and so has father. This is no time for sentiment. I shall do my duty."

There was a sound of steps approaching through the hall. There was no mistaking that careless, bl.u.s.tering stride. With a startled, almost frightened expression, Mary whirled toward the kitchen and disappeared just as Frazier entered the sitting-room. An instant later and Frazier would have seen the two together.

"I was looking for Miss Mary," he said, and he glowered on Charles, who had resumed his chair and taken up his knife and fork. Charles thought with lightning swiftness. He did not want to give the man the slightest information, so with a steady, contemptuous stare he simply made no answer.

His manner and silence fairly stunned Frazier, who, in default of anything else to do, simply glared at him for a moment and then turned back toward the veranda. Charles was glad he had taken the course he did, the next moment, for he heard Mary's voice on the veranda speaking to her father. She had slipped out at the kitchen door and had hastily made her way over the gra.s.s back to the front.

Charles finished his supper and, having nothing just then to do, he started up to his room. He intended to go to the village as soon as he could leave the house unnoticed, and that meant waiting till the family and the guest had retired. As he was ascending the stairs he heard the angry voice of Frazier raised above a normal tone.

"He simply glared at me when I spoke, sneered and didn't open his lips.

Now I tell you that if it hadn't been here in your house, Mr. Rowland, I'd have given him a licking that he would remember all his life--a common, roustabout circus tramp acting in such a high and mighty way with me!"

Charles heard Rowland's faint voice in response, but failed to catch his words. It was ten o'clock before he heard the others go to their rooms, and he waited half an hour afterward before stealing down the stairs and starting on his walk to the village.

CHAPTER XXI

The following morning Charles went to his work after breakfasting alone.

Aunt Zilla said the others were not yet up. From his corn-field he saw Frazier lead his horse up to the gate and hitch it to his buggy, which had been left there. Presently Mary came out, and was a.s.sisted into the vehicle. Frazier attentively tucked the lap-robe about her feet, waved a parting hand to Rowland at the gate, and they drove away. The buggy seat was a narrow one and the couple had to sit close together. Frazier, in a very loutish way, had dropped his right foot over the edge of the buggy, and it was swinging to and fro close to the wheels, like a pendulum.

"I want to warn you and your father both against that fellow," he was saying to the thought-immersed girl, who, pale and rigid, sat by his side. "I am sure there is something crooked about him. He has all the earmarks of a suspicious character. I have helped my brother in several detective cases and I never saw a man I suspected more. It is not all groundless, either, little girl. You see, the last time I was here to stay all night I heard him coming in away after midnight, slipping up the stairs with his shoes in his hand, and this morning between two and three he did the same thing. The first time I stopped him with my gun in my hand, but this morning I let him pa.s.s. I intend to give him plenty of rope and watch him. Some suspicious characters were connected with the circus he left, and my frank opinion is that this Brown dropped off here, and is working on your place merely as a blind to cover up some shady game."

"You say you heard him come in this morning between two and three?" Mary said, wonderingly. "Are you not mistaken?"

"No. The truth is I thought I heard him go out about eleven, but was not sure, so I left my door slightly ajar. I am a light sleeper when I want to be, and I heard him at the front door and watched him creep up the stairs without his shoes again. A fellow like that may stare at me and not answer a decent question, but it won't pay him. He doesn't know who he is fooling with."

Mary said nothing. She was wondering what could have taken Charles out at that hour. Finally she thought of the old friend he had mentioned and decided his going out must have been connected with him. But--again she found herself perplexed--why had the "old friend" acted so strangely the preceding day? Why had he hidden in the thicket for so many hours before approaching Charles, and why had he waited for the darkness to fall before accomplishing his purpose? It was queer, very queer, but not for a moment did she doubt that all was as it should be. She found herself actually too miserable to attempt a defense of Charles against Frazier's insinuations. After all, what could be of importance beyond the object of her mission to the village that morning? Frazier had said that he would go to the bank as soon as they reached Carlin and get the necessary money. Whether the life of the wounded man might be saved was very doubtful at best, but one thing seemed settled beyond recall, and that was her marriage to the man by her side. Could it be possible? she kept asking herself, to the thudding accompaniment of the horse's hoofs; yes, yes, it was now inevitable. She was glad, vaguely glad, that Frazier forebore mentioning the subject during the drive. He evidently felt that after the price had been paid she would be ready to complete the bargain. She was beginning to feel herself a slave, but she was a haughty, uncringing one, and well knew the value of what she was giving.

They were entering the village. He told her it was nine o'clock and the bank would be open for business. He could, by going only a short distance out of his way, drop her at Keith's house. How would she like to stop and tell Tobe the good news while he went on to the bank for the money?

It was just what she desired, for she shrank from being seen at the bank on such business. The president, at least, would understand and make mental, if not open, comments. So at the gate of the cottage Frazier left her, promising to come back very soon.

No one was in sight about the place, though the front door was open, and as she entered the gate she heard the grinding tread of thick-shod feet on the boards of the floor within.

The buggy was disappearing down the street as she timidly reached the door. She stood there a moment, and then summoned up the courage to rap on the lintel.

"Go see who it is, Ma," she heard Tobe say. "Maybe they are here already."

Then Mrs. Keith appeared. Her facial expression was more cheerful than it was the day before, her form more erect and confident. She was even courteous in her unlettered way.

"Come in, come in," she said, smiling. "Tobe, it is Miss Mary. He is daft about you, Miss Mary; he hasn't talked about a thing since you left but the sweet way you acted and spoke yesterday. He has a lot to tell you, but I reckon you have heard by this time. News spreads like fire in dry broomsedge in a little place like this."

"I have heard nothing new," Mary answered, wonderingly.

"You say you haven't? Well, everybody else has, here in town, I'll bet a horse. Tobe, she hain't heard. You tell her. He can do it to the queen's taste." Mrs. Keith laughed in a chuckling way.