CHAPTER XI
A TIMELY RESCUE
Feeling that a real tragedy had come into the little girl’s life, as great as perhaps she would ever experience, for Mrs. Lombard fully realized how strong was the tie between Denise and this well-beloved pet, and also realizing that which, unhappily, few do realize, that childhood’s trials and sorrows are fully as keen for the time being as the trials and sorrows which visit us later in life, although, blessed provision of providence, less enduring. Had not a beneficent Father so ordained it there would be no childhood, for we should be old men and women while still in our teens.
Stepping quickly to her little daughter’s side, Mrs. Lombard put her arm about her and said, “Come into the sitting-room, darling, and let mother tell you all about it. I had thought to spare you the anxiety, for we are confident that all will end well, but now that you have heard so much you would better know the truth.”
Trembling from sympathy, Pokey had drawn near and taken one of Denise’s hands, and now stood beside her “pooring” it and looking into her eyes as though beseeching her not to be quite heart-broken. Hart, with contrition stamped upon his handsome, boyish face, had crept up the stairs, and was looking in at the door. Drawing Denise beside her upon the couch, Mrs. Lombard said in her calm, soothing voice:
“When John went to the stable Monday morning Ned was not there. At first we thought that he had managed to run away, but later we were convinced that he could not have gone voluntarily, and a thorough search has been instituted. Thus far it has been fruitless, but Hart has just reported that one of the detectives whom papa has pressed into service has seen one of the men whom we now know to have been connected with the circus, and has further learned that which surprises us not a little, that Ned once belonged to another branch of this very circus. Indeed, that he and Sinbad, the big black horse with whom he so promptly renewed his acquaintance, were formerly ring companions, and performed tricks together. All this papa’s men have discovered, and also that about a year before Ned became yours, the circus then being in financial straits, Ned was sold, very much to the regret of the proprietor. When more prosperous days returned, they tried to find him, but could not, and not until they chanced to come to Springdale did they ever see their clever little trick pony again. Then this manager recognized him from the odd mark upon his right temple, and sent a man down to see if he could buy him back again, but John sent him to the right-about with a word of advice. Then Ned vanished, and, naturally, our first thought flew to the circus. But Ned is not with it, nor yet with the main body of it, for papa has sent everywhere. If they have taken him they have surely hidden him somewhere till the excitement shall pass, and they think it safe to bring him upon the scene far from this section of the country. There, my dear little girl, is all the truth, and you understand better than any one else can, how very sorry I am to be forced to tell it to you,” and Mrs. Lombard held Denise close to her and tenderly kissed her forehead.
Denise had not opened her lips but had grown whiter and whiter as the story was told. The hand which lay in Pokey’s was icy, and the eyes, which had never once been removed from her mother’s face while she was speaking, had the look of a terrified animal’s.
Not a sound was heard in that room for a few moments save the ticking of the little clock upon the mantel, and then Denise asked in a strange, hard little voice:
“You say that the man was seen up near Hook Mountain?”
“Yes!” burst in Hart. “He had rowed across the river, they think, and was prowling along the shore in a great big boat. Patsy Murphy was out on the river fishing and saw him, and told Mr. Stevens when he got back.”
“Mamma, could he take Ned in a boat?” asked Denise.
“He might do so if the boat were a very large one and Ned so tied that he could not struggle.”
“Hart,” she cried suddenly, the big brown eyes filling with a fire which boded ill for any one minded to take Ned from her, “do you remember that wild little path we once came upon on Hook Mountain when you and I were trying to find a short cut over to the lake one day? It led around the curve of the mountain, and seemed to end, but when we forced our way through the underbrush it led down to an old brick-yard dock. We said at the time that it would be a splendid place to play Captain Kidd and bury a treasure, for nobody would ever think of scrambling way round there.”
“Of course I remember,” cried Hart, catching her excitement, although as yet he hardly knew why.
“Have you hunted there?”
“No! I never once thought of that place.”
“Please go quick, and take Sailor. Give him something of Ned’s to smell of and then say: ‘Find Ned, Sailor; find him!’ and he will know just what you mean, because that is what I always say to him when he and Ned and Tan and I play hide-and-seek, as we often do when we are alone. I would go, too, but somehow I don’t feel very well, and I—guess—I’ll—lie—” and the voice dwindled off into nothingness, as poor little nearly-heartbroken Denise drew a long sigh and quietly dropped into her mother’s arms, for the time being oblivious of her loss and grief.
Raising her hand in warning to the terrified children, Mrs. Lombard laid the limp little figure upon the couch, and began administering restoratives with grandma, who, at the first sign of distress, had appeared upon the scene to help. Pokey promptly sat down at the foot of the couch and, taking Denise’s feet in her arms, proceeded to bedew them with tears, begging them piteously to “oh, please get better right off, and she would go herself to find Ned for them.”
Hart fled, dashing from his eyes the tears that had sought to disgrace him, and muttering an excited, “Dod blasticate that circus! Wish the hanged old thing had never showed up in Springdale! I’ll go up to that place before I’ve lived another minute, and if Ned is anywhere in the mountain, I’ll have him or bust the whole shebang. Wish I could catch that man, I’d smash his head for him sure as guns! I’d—I’d—Why didn’t we think of Sailor before! That girl’s got the longest head for a girl, and if Pinto doesn’t just hustle this time!” and with his thoughts upon the gallop, Hart rushed across the lawn, calling to Sailor, who was always ready to follow, and five minutes later was tearing up the road toward Hook Mountain with Sailor bounding on ahead of him.
Meantime Denise had come to her senses, but was limp as a little rag, for she had not yet recovered from the effects of her terrible stings, and the news had been as a thunderbolt to her. But Mrs. Lombard was a wise nurse, and presently had the satisfaction of seeing her patient succumb to the gentle influence of hyoscyamus, and slip away into dreamland. Then, motioning to Pokey to leave the room, she drew the shades, and followed her, saying to the distressed girl:
“Something tells me that Ned will come home to-day, and that Hart and Sailor will find him. So run out into the sunshine and keep a sharp watch, dearie, and be ready to report at the first sign of good news.”
Pokey, with Beauty Buttons close upon her heels, went downstairs, and out into the grounds, making her way from force of habit to the Birds’ Nest. But the place was so deserted and silent that she gave a little shiver and turned away from it, to wander aimlessly about with her thoughts filled with Denise and Ned. Hardly knowing what she did, she walked out of the grounds and turned toward the road which Hart had so lately galloped over, and began walking along it.
Meanwhile Hart had passed through the village, and was galloping toward Hook Mountain. Before long he came to the point at which the main road turned aside to wind its way by a circuitous route over the mountain, and this was the only way known to the ordinary traveler to reach the fairy-like lake which lay in the lap of the mountain. But not so to the children, who had scoured the country for miles in every direction. A little path which seemed to end at the edge of an adjoining field did not end there at all, but made its way through the undergrowth, up, down, in, and out until it finally scrambled over to the other side of the steep cliff, at whose base years before a small dock had been built for the accommodation of a long-since-dismantled brick-yard. Stopping at the entrance to the path, Hart called Sailor to him and, taking from under his arm the saddle-cloth of Ned’s saddle, said to the dog: “Here, old boy, see this? Smell it good, it’s Ned’s, Ned’s! Find him, Sailor, find him! That’s a good dog!”
If ever an animal’s eyes spoke, Sailor’s did then, for, giving Hart one comprehensive glance from those big brown eyes, so full of love and faith, he began to bark and caper about like a puppy. Then Hart started Pinto forward, and he and Sailor began their search. On and on they went, furlong after furlong measured off behind them, brushed by overhanging boughs, stumbling through the tangled undergrowth, and repeatedly stopping to call and listen; Hart telling Sailor to bark for Ned, and the deep bark waking the echoes of the silent woods. As though he understood what they were doing, Pinto, too, would often join in with a loud neigh, but no responsive neigh could be heard. Nearly three hours had slipped away since Hart left Mrs. Lombard, and the boy was beginning to lose hope, when they came upon the old dock, and Sailor uttered a low growl, as, with hair bristling, he walked toward it in that peculiar manner a Newfoundland dog advances upon his enemy—a sort of “Come on and face me fairly and squarely” air. Hart drew rein and called, while down his boyish spine crept a wee bit of a chill, for he was far from home, and entirely defenseless. But there was no sign of living thing, and, thinking that Sailor must have been mistaken, Hart called to him, and went on into the wood again. Had he been able to see the lower side of the old dock he might have discovered a large flat-bottomed boat tied close under an overhanging shed of it, while, from beneath the rickety boards peered a pair of steely eyes which watched his every movement. Hart was indeed in greater peril than he suspected, for this man would be the richer by a considerable sum of money if he carried out successfully the dastardly scheme of the one who offered the money to him, and to sit hidden there and see his plans balked before his very eyes, unless he resorted to far worse villainy than that already afoot, was a sore temptation.
With hair still bristling, and an occasional admonitory growl, Sailor stalked very slowly after Hart, looking back from time to time to guard against trouble from the rear. They reached the point where the path wound its way up the jagged rocks, and where they had been forced to pause when he and Denise explored it before, and a feeling of despair began to settle upon him, for it seemed utterly hopeless to look further. Sailor stood panting beside Pinto, evidently trying to ask, What next? when suddenly he supplied the answer himself for, putting his head close to the ground, he gave one long sniff, and then uttered a joyous bark and dashed into the woods. As it was almost impossible for Pinto to make way through the tangle, Hart slipped from his back, and tore after Sailor. Just as he did so, Sailor barked again, and far off in the distance a faint whinny answered him. “Gee whillikens, Christmas! If that ain’t Ned’s whinny, I’m a bluefish!” shouted Hart, and the next moment he almost tumbled into a little dell at the bottom of which a sight greeted him that made him throw his cap into the air and simply yell. In a little cleared space, firmly tied to a tree, a dirty old blanket strapped upon him, and the remains of his last meal scattered upon the ground near him, stood little Ned, with Sailor licking his velvety nose and whining over him as though he were a lost puppy. The next second Hart had his arms around Ned’s neck, laughing, talking, asking questions as though he were speaking to a human being who could answer if he only would. And Ned very nearly did, for the little fellow’s joy was pathetic to witness. When Hart had somewhat calmed down, he discovered how Ned had been led into his hiding-place, for at the other side of it from the one he had entered there were distinct traces of hoof-marks, and Hart lost not a second more in untying the rope which held him and leading him out that way. This path came out upon the wood-path somewhat below the point where Pinto had been waiting, but, at Hart’s call, Pinto came picking his way down the path and was greeted by his old friend with a joyous neigh. They had not gone far when Sailor gave signs of anger, and, without a moment’s warning, sprang upon a man who suddenly barred their progress.