“What’s got into the pack of us? Seems if we’d lost our gumption. After all, couldn’t anything have happened likelier, so far forth as I see. John Benton, you light off Moses and help this man into your saddle. He’ll ride home and I’ll walk alongside, whilst you tramp on to Marion. There’s a mare there, named Jean. She was offered to me, but I was in a hurry and didn’t accept. However, the offer is due to hold good for any of our folks. Light, I tell you. Marty’s about played out.”
Indeed, the respite came none too soon. The worst injury the gardener had sustained was, apparently, of the head, and a terrible dizziness rendered his progress on foot almost impossible. He would not have been able to accomplish this much of the journey, save for the continual help of Ephraim, who was himself burdened with the heavy pack and unwilling to relinquish it.
John stepped down and swung his fellow ranchman up to Moses’ back; then placed the bundle before the rider, turned the animal’s head toward Sobrante, and chirruped:
“Giddap! Home’s the word!”
Moses needed no second urging, but was off at a gallop, leaving the others to discuss the situation a bit further, and Ephraim to follow at his leisure.
There was little more to be said, however, and soon each was pursuing diverging routes and each at his swiftest pace.
At Marion, John had the mail pouch unlocked and examined, and was satisfied that some letters had been tampered with. These contained orders for house supplies and had been accompanied by checks, as was evident from the wording of the orders. The 118 checks had been removed, and this fact proved to the carpenter that the hand of Antonio Bernal was in the matter, because the late manager might indorse them without arousing the bank’s suspicion, as nobody else could.
Yet there was one thing he did not mention, even to the postmaster; and that was the package which Jessica’s letter to Ninian Sharp had spoken of. This had disappeared entirely. The fact troubled him more than the loss of the checks, for he could stop the payment of these, but whether the little captain had sent the whole of their only specimen of the copper to her city friend or not was a serious question.
However, he did what he could; and almost for the first time in his life used the telegraph as well as the post. To pay for his long and rather ambiguous messages he borrowed money of the mystified Aleck McLeod; and the local operator found himself busier than he had ever been since the establishment of the office.
The other sad business that had brought him to the town was also transacted; and by the time all was arranged John was very glad to avail himself of Jean’s services, slow though she was. Upon her sedate back he arrived at Sobrante, just as the sun was setting, and found that the household had temporarily forgotten their grief for Pedro in their rejoicing over Ephraim.
“It’s an up and a down in this world,” quoth Aunt Sally, spreading and admiring the brilliant bits of calico which “Forty-niner” had given her. “Life ain’t all catnip anyway you stew it. Them that laugh in the morning gen’ally cry before night, and vicy-versy. But, Gabriella, do, for goodness’ 119 sake, just fetch out that queer kind of stick that old Indian made a sort of graven image of and show it to Mr. Ma’sh. It’s a curiosity, being so old, if it ain’t no more. Worth cherishin’, anyhow, ’count of him that give it. I always did admire keepsakes of the departed.”
Mrs. Trent smiled, though sadly, and Jessica asked:
“May I get it, mother?”
“Surely. For safety I put it on the top of the tallest bookcase, behind the files of newspapers. You’ll likely have to take the little library ladder to reach it; and when you’ve shown it, put it back in exactly the same spot. It’s doubly valuable now, and could not be replaced.”
The little captain had scarcely once relinquished the hand of her beloved sharpshooter, since he appeared before them all, and now led him, as if he were another happy playmate, to the designated place. But when she had reached it, mounted the ladder and carefully felt all over the top of the case, even moving the files in order to examine it the better, she could not find the metal-pointed staff.
Standing on the floor beneath, Ephraim watched her face growing sober and disappointed, as she exclaimed:
“It’s gone! It’s completely gone!”
“It has, dearie? Well, maybe your mother forgot and put it somewhere else. The likeliest thing in the world to happen, with her mind so upset as it has been. We’ll go back and ask her. Don’t fret. Probably it wasn’t of much account, anyway.”
“Oh! but, dear Ephraim, it was! It could point the way to our big fortune that’s to be dug out of the ground!”
“What? What is that you say, child? Nonsense. We don’t live in the days of witchcraft, and that’s what such a performance would mean.”
Yet when they had returned to Mrs. Trent and related their misadventure he was startled by hearing that sensible woman tragically exclaim, in contradiction to his own assertion:
“Lost! Then Sobrante is certainly bewitched!”
“Thank my stars, I haven’t lost my faculty of doing two things to once, nor seein’ a dozen!” cried Aunt Sally, as if in response to Mrs. Trent’s exclamation. Then she rose so hastily that her beloved “pieces” fell on the floor and her spectacles slid from the end of her nose, their habitual resting place. “There never was witches on this ranch before, and I reckon I can deal with a few of them that’s here now. Edward Trent, Luis Garcia! Where you goin’ at? Hey? Hear me? Come right straight back to me this minute, if you know what’s good for yourselves!”
All were surprised by this outburst and awaited its result with curiosity.
The two little boys had been suspiciously quiet on the farther end of that long porch where the household practically lived. Mrs. Trent had glanced their way, occasionally, but supposed them to be engrossed by the patent whistle and top which had been found in Ephraim’s pack, neatly marked with their respective names. Yet one could not eat tops nor whistles, and their elbows had been seen, from the rear, to move in a suggestive manner.
“They’re eatin’ somethin’ all this time. I wonder what!” had been Mrs. Benton’s private reflection. But when Jessica came back with her report of the lost wand, the elbow action had suddenly ceased; 122 and, after what appeared to be a brief whispered consultation, they had slunk away down the path, Ned trying to help Luis hide something within his blouse, though not, apparently, succeeding.
At the sound of Aunt Sally’s voice, indeed, they dropped the box they had been secreting and burst into a paroxysm of giggling, as was their customary receipt of her chiding. The giggle was always destined to end in tears, but this never prevented its recurrence.
“Neddy Trent! If that bad little Garcia boy is doing wrong, it’s no need you should be naughty, too. Come back here and show poor auntie what you’ve got in your blouses.”
Wheedling had no more effect than scolding, for with one hug of each other’s necks, the children scampered onward, leaving their spoils behind them.
Then Jessica followed to see what this might be, and exclaimed, in some surprise:
“Candy! Where did it come from?”
Now, it happened that such sweets, except of homemade manufacture and on rare occasions, were forbidden the lads, because they were always made ill by them. That is, Luis suffered and Ned was not allowed anything his playmate could not share. All the ranchmen knew Mrs. Trent’s wishes on the subject and heretofore none had ever gone against them. Who had done it now?
Of course, suspicion instantly pointed to “Forty-niner,” who indignantly denied that he had brought, or even thought of bringing, anything home which his beloved mistress did not wish there.
“Doesn’t anybody trust me any more about anything?” he concluded, wistfully.
The accusation had come from Mrs. Benton, but Gabriella hastened to soothe the sharpshooter, saying:
“We’re making mountains out of mole hills, I fear. There, Aunt Sally, never mind. They have left so much behind them on the path that they can hardly have eaten enough to harm them, anyway. Let them go, please.”
But the good woman would not drop the subject. Her sharp eyes had not been given her for nothing, and her son always asserted that if his mother had been a man she would have made a first-class detective. Panting and puffing in her haste and curiosity, she hurried to the spilled confections and carefully picked them up; then returned to the porch, significantly holding forth, upon her palm, a specimen of what she had discovered.
“Needn’t tell me I didn’t smell peppymint! Them’s them peppymint rounds with chocolate outsides that I never seen nobody eat, on this ranch, ’cept Antonio Bernal. They ain’t kept in the store to Marion, and the storekeeper used to send for ’em to Los Angeles, ’specially for his one customer. I know, Antonio offered me some, time and again, on my other visits, but I always thanked him polite and said no. I never did lay out to eat a snake’s victuals, and that’s what his’n was.”
“Oh, what a woman you are, Aunt Sally!” laughed Ephraim.
“Thank you. I hope I be; enough of one, anyhow, to see through a millstone, when there’s a hole in it. But you’ve come back so peart and sassy, sharpshooter, 124 I reckon I best go steep you a fresh dose of picra. After I’ve learnt all them tackers can tell.”
“Please, don’t be stern with them, Aunt Sally,” protested the mother. “Whatever they’ve done is but natural. It would be too much to expect them to refuse such a treat if it were offered them, and, maybe, John brought it to them.”
“John? My boy, John? After the raisin’ he had! Well, you’re on the wrong track there and I’m on the right one. Antonio Bernal, or some feller sneak of his, has been here at Sobrante, and you needn’t touch to tell me he hasn’t. Wait; I’ll find out now!” she ended, in triumph, and again the others were obliged to laugh, though Mrs. Trent’s brief mirth closed with a sigh, which Jessica heard and understood.
“Oh! don’t you fear, mother, dear. Aunt Sally wouldn’t hurt either of them, really; and, indeed, I don’t know who would keep them in order if she didn’t try. What mischief one can’t think of the other does, and I’ll run after her and see the thing out. Who knows but that they can tell us something about the missing staff?”
The runaways had made a detour by way of the kitchen, and adjoining the kitchen was the “cold closet,” which was the refuge they sought, and where already were stored some of the Christmas goodies. This closet had but one door and a securely shuttered window, and once the door was gained by the pursuer she would have the small miscreants in a trap. This she had seen and this it was which had given her that triumphant expression.
The captain also gained the pantry door just after it had closed behind Mrs. Benton and her prisoners, 125 and to her repeated request to be admitted, received the enigmatical answer:
“Time enough when I’ve pumped these little cisterns dry.”
“Are the children in there with you?”
“Certain.”
“You won’t hurt them, will you? Please don’t punish them to-day. I can’t bear it.”
To which the grim jailer responded:
“You go along back to ‘Forty-niner,’ Jessie darlin, and be happy. We’re all mighty comfortable in here and lots of good victuals, if so be we get hungry. Plenty to drink, too, for I just brought in a crock of fresh water to cool my eggs in. I’ve got my knittin’ work and am as happy as an oyster. Go back, for I ain’t ready to talk yet. When I am I’ll come out and bring these naughty children with me.”
So Jessica returned to her old friend’s side; and in listening to his talk about the hospital and the friends she had made there for herself, as well as about Mr. Ninian Sharp and the lawyer, Morris Hale, the evening quickly passed and bedtime came.
When the ranch mistress rose to say good-night, she went to the still closed door of the closet, and asked:
“Aren’t you coming out now, Aunt Sally?”
The old lady opened the door and pointed complacently to a distant corner of the roomy apartment where, upon a pile of soft blankets that had been stored within, lay the two little boys, sound asleep and the picture of innocent comfort.
“There, Gabriella, you see they’re all right. I wouldn’t hurt a hair of their bonny heads, not for 126 another ranch as fine as this one. But here them and me stay till I worm the truth out of ’em about that candy and that magic staff. Where that candy come from that there staff has gone. You hear me and believe me. Oh, I know what I know! Good-night. Don’t you worry. Me and them is all right, as I said, and my head’s level. I went to sleep a-watchin’ t’other time, but I shan’t this. There’s more in my mind than nonsense. This chair is as comfortable as a lounge. I slipped out and got it from the settin’-room when you all was talkin’ so lively, just now, and we’re fixed. I may come out before daylight and I may stay till doomsday; but come I shan’t a single step, not to please even you for whom I’d do and dare a good deal, and don’t you doubt it, but when my mind is sot it’s sot, and sot it is this minute, an don’t you dast to let on to John Benton, or that sassy boy’d plague the very life out of me, and you go right along to your own bed and take Jessie with you, and–––”
But Mrs. Trent stayed to hear no more. When Aunt Sally got started on such a harangue as this, exhaustion of breath was her only limit. The lady did not anticipate more than an hour’s further imprisonment of the children, if so long, and was sure that they would be even tenderly cared for, no matter what their misdemeanors, if she did not herself interfere. Yet daylight came and found the odd trio still behind that closed door, and it opened only at breakfast time; when, leading two very penitent-looking small boys and herself wearing the air of a Roman conqueror, Mrs. Benton emerged from her seclusion upon an expectant household.
“Well, Aunt Sally, haven’t you ‘wormed’ them, as you promised? Poor little tackers! they’ve lost their pride and spirit, and I love them. Come to 127 sister, darlings, and get your morning hugs!” cried Jessica, as they appeared. Ephraim, close at hand, winked at them solemnly and held up behind Mrs. Benton’s back two most alluring marbles. But they did not wink in response, nor give more than a furtive smile, as they reluctantly dragged along under their guardian’s forcible guidance. Her route was direct to the watering trough where, without ado, she promptly stripped, bathed and rubbed dry, each shivering little figure. Then she reclothed and led them back to the kitchen, placing them in high chairs beside the big deal table, while she proceeded to cook their oatmeal and serve it to them, with a bad-as-you-are-you-shan’t-starve sort of air which would have amused Jessica, had she not so heartily pitied her playmates.
After a time she could endure the sight no longer, but sped to Ned’s chair and clasped him fondly in her arms.
“What is the matter, brotherkin? Tell sister, do. Is it nothing but that miserable candy? What else have you done to make auntie so angry with you?”
Ned’s bosom heaved and a mighty sob burst forth. But he instantly repressed this sign of weakness, though unfortunately, not soon enough to prevent Luis from echoing it with redoubled intensity.
Now nothing so quickly restores the self-possession, even of grown-ups, as the sight of another’s collapse; and no sooner had Luis given vent to his emotion than Ned’s spirit returned to him. Throwing back his pretty head, with an air of unconquerable resolution, he reached forth and pounded his mate smartly on the back.
“You, Luis Garcia, what you crying for? Isn’t none of your staffs, anyway.”
“Ain’t my old staffs, ain’t,” sobbed the “echo,” for such he was often nicknamed.
“Then you needn’t cry, you needn’t. I ain’t crying, I ain’t. Hate old Aunt Sally. Hate ’Tonio. Hate Ferd. Hate everybody. Give me my breakfast, old Aunt Sally Benton!”
“Hate Bentons!” agreed Luis, and flung his arms about his little tyrant’s throat till he choked from outward expression whatever more might have issued thence.
“Ned! Why, Ned! I never, never knew you so naughty! Do tell me; what has happened?”
Mrs. Benton glared at the culprit over her down-dropped spectacles in a truly formidable manner, but the result was only a settled stubbornness which nothing moved.
Seeing that pleading was hopeless, at present, and that Ned was in one of his dogged fits, Jessica quietly walked away and began to help in the preparation of the elder people’s meal, as her mother liked to have her do.
Meanwhile, Aunt Sally waited upon the children, piling their saucers with the tasty porridge, moistened with Blandina’s yellow cream and plentifully sprinkled with sugar. They were healthy and unused to grief, and the palatable food soon restored their good humor. They seemed to forgive their venerable tormentor and fell to their accustomed scrimmage with the utmost enjoyment; and this was pleasanter for all concerned. However, even when they had eaten all they could and were ready for outdoors and their morning fun, their plans were nipped in the bud. Aunt Sally had a spare hand for each of them and conducted them firmly to the 129 dining room and a place upon its lounge, while the family took their own food in what comfort they could.
This was not so great Mrs. Trent’s eyes would wander to the unhappy pair––for they were once more gloomy and unsubdued––and old Ephraim cast many glances thither, entreating by silent signals that they should repent of whatever sin they had committed and be restored to favor.
The meal past the family rose and, from her pocket, Mrs. Benton produced two long strips of cloth, one of which she fastened about each child’s wrist, leaving its other end to tie to her own apron belt.
Then she turned to the mother, whose tears were beginning to fall, and said, severely:
“Gabriella, if I didn’t love you as well as I love myself and better, I’d let these children go and no more said. But they’ve done that no punishin’ won’t reach, though maybe they’ll give in after a spell. I shan’t hurt ’em nor touch to; but I shall keep ’em tied to me till they tell me what I’m bound to know. So that’s all. You’ve got enough on your hands, with this funeral business and all that’ll come, and however we’re goin’ to feed another lot of visitors so soon after them others, I declare I don’t see. And me with these tackers tied to my apron strings, the way they be!”
Mrs. Trent rose and left the room and Jessica slowly followed. Neither of them could quite understand Aunt Sally’s present behavior, nor why she should wish to bother herself with two such hindrances to the labor which must be accomplished.
But Ephraim lingered. He simply could not endure the sight of the little ones’ unhappiness, and 130 quietly slipping a knife from his pocket he coolly cut their leading strings, caught them up in his strong arms and limped away before their captor had discovered her loss.
But he put his head back inside the doorway to call out, reassuringly:
“Begging pardon, Mrs. Benton, I’ll ‘spell’ you on the ‘worming out’ business and promise they shan’t leave my care till I hand ’em back to you thoroughly ‘pumped.’ Come along, laddies. I’ve a mind to visit every spot on this blessed ranch and––upon one condition––I’ve a mind to take you with me. Want to hear?”
“Yes. What is it?” demanded Ned, already very happy at the exchange of jailers.
“Only that you must explain what all this row and rumpus is about with Aunt Sally.”
Standing at the top of the steps, with one foot outstretched, old “Forty-niner” paused and steadily regarded the small face above his shoulder.
Ned returned the gaze with equal steadfastness, as if he were pondering in his troubled mind the best course to pursue. Then, because he might think more clearly so, he lifted his serious gaze to the distance; and, at once, there burst from his quivering lips a cry of fear:
“Oh, I see him! I see him! He’s coming, like he said––to kill me––to kill me! I dassent––I dassent!”
“Eels couldn’t have done that slicker!” commented Ephraim, in surprise. For, behold! his arms were empty and the flash of twinkling legs along the garden path pointed whither his charges had fled. “Here they were and here they aren’t, and whatever scared them that way is more than I can see.”
Indeed, though he shaded his eyes with his hand and made a prolonged examination of the outlook, nothing different from ordinary was visible; and, after a moment’s reflection, he sought Aunt Sally and reported:
“Well, Mrs. Benton, I ’low I’m doomed to that dose of picra, for I––I––– You see–––”
“Ephraim Ma’sh, where’s them children?”
“That’s just exactly what I’d like to know myself, neighbor.”
“Huh! You needn’t go ‘neighborin’’ me, if that’s all you’re worth. Tryin’ fool capers like a boy, ain’t you? Think it was terr’ble clever to cut strings that I’d took the trouble to tie and then settin’ them youngsters free. Well, all I have to say is that you’ve done more harm than you can undo in a hurry, and that’s the true word,” retorted the indignant matron, beating a bowlful of eggs as she would have enjoyed beating him just then.
Ephraim crossed the kitchen and laid one hand on her shoulder, saying:
“Come, Sally, let’s quit chasing about the bush. There’s something more in this nonsense than appears, and if you’re a true and loyal friend to this family I’m another as good. Two heads are better than one, you know–––”
“Even if one belongs to a silly old feller like you? H’m Ephraim, you’re right! There is somethin’ more’n shows outside. That candy was a bait, a trap, a lure, a––anything you choose; and I do hope the little fellers are safer’n I fear they be. If I catch ’em again, for their good–––My suz! Here they’re comin’ back of their own free will and wonder ain’t ceased!”
Indeed, as swiftly as they had scampered away, the lads were returning and burst into the kitchen, crying with what little breath they had left:
“Aunt Sally, lock me up! Lock us up tight! Quick––quick! I seen him! He’ll do it! My mother says Antonio always does do things, he does! Quick, quick!”
“Lock up, quick!”
Ned and the echo swung round behind the matron’s capacious person and rolled themselves in the folds of her full skirt, which performance hid them from the view of anyone outside and as effectually interfered with her movements.
But she had now caught something of their excitement, and their appeal to her protection had promptly banished her last trace of anger against them.
“So I will, lambies, so I will. You just keep on a steppin’ backwards and I’ll do it, too, and first we 133 know we’ll get to that nice pantry where we stayed last night. I’ve got the key to that, even if ’tis rusty from not bein’ often used, and I’ll defy anybody to get it away from me.”
Still beating her eggs as if nothing uncommon were happening, the housewife retreated toward the door in question, and slipping one hand behind her opened it without turning her head. She was instantly relieved of the drag upon her skirts, and quietly shut the door again upon her self-imprisoned charges. Then she drew a long breath, and exclaimed:
“Well, sharpshooter, what do you think of that?”
“Looks as if you couldn’t have been so very hard on them, else they’d never come back.”
“I ain’t a-flatterin’ myself. That was a ‘Hobson’s choice.’ But–––”
“But they must have been badly frightened to have done it.”
“Yes, Ephraim, they are, and I am. I’m so stirred up I don’t know whether I’ve beat these eggs all one way, like I ought, or forty-’leven different ones, like I ought not. I’m flustered. I’m completely flustered, and that ain’t often my case.”
“Picra!” sympathetically suggested the old man.
Aunt Sally’s eyes snapped, and she smiled grimly, as she retorted:
“Picra’s good for them ’at need it. That’s you, not me. It ain’t a medicine for in’ards so much as ’tis for out’ards. I mean, it’s better for the body than ’tis for the mind, and it’s my mind that’s ailin’ me! Besides, doctors never take their own doses.”
“You know it yourself! I thought your mind was failing you, but–––”
“No such thing. I said, or I meant to say, I was troubled in it. That’s all; and if you’re a mite of a man you’ll try and help me unravel this tangle and quit foolin’. Just step into that closet with me and maybe the tackers’ll tell you themselves. I’d rather you heard it first hand, anyway.”
Wun Lung, sifting flour in one part of the kitchen, and Pasqual scrubbing a kneading board at the sink, both paused and eyed the strange proceedings with curiosity if not displeasure; for not only had the children been bestowed within the “cold closet,” but Aunt Sally and Ephraim had, also, followed and locked themselves out of sight and hearing.
The pantry was absolutely dark, until Mrs. Benton found a candle and lighted it; then she pointed to the chair she had occupied during the night, mutely inviting “Forty-niner” to be seated. He declined the proffered courtesy, so she sat down herself, and it amused him that she had not once stopped that monotonous whisking of the eggs, though by this time the dish was heaped with their frothy substance.
“The cake you make of them should be light enough,” he remarked, with a smile.
“You’re right. There’s such a thing as overbeatin’––everything. Well, laddies, we’re all back in here together again, and auntie wants you to tell Mr. Ma’sh where you got that candy; who give it to you; what for; where you saw that sneaky snake, Antonio Bernal; what you’ve done with the staff wand; and all the rest of it? ‘Forty-niner’ is a man and a gentleman–––”
“Here the sharpshooter bowed profoundly, acknowledging the compliment with a humorous expression; 135 but the matron continued as if she had not observed him:
“You see, I know all about it, even if you wouldn’t tell. I’m one has eyes on the back of my head and on its top, too, I tell you, so you needn’t try to think I don’t see what’s going on, for I do.”
The faces of her small listeners showed utter amazement; then with one of his flashlike movements Ned sprang to the back of her chair and passed his hand rapidly all over her gray curls.
“Where are they, Aunt Sally? I can’t find ’em. I never saw ’em in all my life, and do––do, please, show them to me!” he implored.
Luis scrambled up the other side, and echoed:
“Never show ’em in m’life!”
“That’s all right. I don’t keep ’em in exhibition, but they’re there all the same.”
“Sally Benton!” expostulated Ephraim. “Don’t tell them wrong stories.”
“But it isn’t a wrong story; it’s a right one. If they’re not real, actual eyes, there’s something in my head takes their place. Might as well say ‘eyes’ as ‘brains,’ I judge. But, be you going to answer, Edward Trent? I’ve got a prime lot of cookin’ to do again, and no time to waste. ’Cause if you ain’t I’ll just take Mr. Ma’sh with me and lock you shavers in here alone, where you’ll be safe, but sort of homesick. I shan’t leave no candle burnin’, for you to set the house afire with. So you best tell, right away, and then be let out to have a good time.”
Luis began to whisper, and beg:
“Tell her, Ned. Tell her. I hate the dark––I do, I do!”
Ned hesitated but a moment longer. He loved his playmate as his own soul, and it altered nothing of this childish David-and-Jonathan friendship that it was as full of fight as of affection. Patting Luis’ shoulder, he cried:
“’Course I’ll tell, though if she knows it all a’ready–––”
“But I don’t know it, Ned. She wants you to tell me. I’m one of us, you see––just we four,” interposed the sharpshooter, hastily.
“Well––well––well, ’tisn’t anyhow. Only I saw––I––saw–––”
Here the child paused and peered cautiously about.
Mr. Marsh promptly sat down upon the boards and motioned the lads to come to him, and when they had done so, closed his arms around them, with a comforting pressure, saying:
“There now! We’re as snug as bugs in a rug, and nobody in the wide world dare harm you. Hurry up and talk fast, or you and I will never get a taste of that fine poundcake Aunt Sally wants to make.”
Another moment of hesitation, and then came Ned’s triumphant statement:
“’Twasn’t no ghost, anyhow.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” answered “Forty-niner,” promptly agreeing, but considerably puzzled. He had not, as yet, heard from any of the others about the “vision” which Mrs. Benton had seen beside the window.
“’Twasn’t nobody but ’Tonio himself.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” he again agreed, and encouragingly patted the boy’s hand.
“And he come––and he come––and he gave us one––two boxes of that nice, nice candy; and all we gave him was Pedro’s old stick!”
Aunt Sally’s egg beater fell to the floor unheeded, this time she really put her spectacles in their proper place and stared through them at the narrator.
Ned warmed to his task and Luis cuddled beside him, complacently adding his affirmative “Yep,” at fitting intervals.
“And so he said it wasn’t nothin’. And so––and so––I fell offen the bookcase and made a noise; and my mother didn’t hear it ’cause she was asleep. Me and Luis was asleep, wasn’t we, Luis?”
“Yep. Sleep.”
“And he waked us up through the window–––”
“Waked froo winder, yep.”
“And said: ‘Go get that pointed stick, Ned Trent, and I’ll give you a dollar.’ Didn’t he?”
“Gimme dollar. Didn’t gimme dollar. What’s a dollar?” asked the echo.
Ned went on, unheeding:
“And I said no. ’Twasn’t my stick; ’twas my mother’s.”
“Oh! Neddy, Neddy! if you’d only stuck to that!” groaned Mrs. Benton, wiping her face with her apron.
But being now fairly launched upon his narrative, and also feeling wholly secure within the shelter of “Forty-niner’s” arms, Ned paused no more till he had completed it:
“And then he gave us the candy, ’cause I didn’t want dollars. You can’t eat dollars, can you? And the candy was like the kind my mother never gives, and just for an old stick was older than Pedro. Huh! And then he––he––he made me put my hand on the top of my head–––”
“Hands on tops of heads!” cried the echo, dramatically.
“And swore a swore I’d never, never, honest Injun, tell a single tell, else he’d––he’d kill me! Kill me right straight down dead! And now I have and he will, and I forgot and you made me! I hate you, I hate you! And won’t you feel bad when I’m all deaded and you you done it, ’stead of him––and––and–––”
The sense of security had fled instantly, and completely. The memory of Antonio’s dark face as he had stood threateningly before the little fellow, at midnight by the window, returned with all its vivid, terrorizing power. Springing to the farthest reach of the room Ned crouched there, wide-eyed and trembling, and, of course, Luis followed his example.
To “Forty-niner’s” reassuring words, and to Mrs. Benton’s cajoling ones, neither child paid any further heed. They had been trained to believe that their promised word was the most sacred of all things, and now they had not only been induced to break that, but to break it in the face of Antonio Bernal’s terrible threat.
The elders left them to themselves and regarded one another with regretful eyes. Then Aunt Sally repeated in detail all that there was to tell concerning the curious wand which had pointed the way to wealth; and now Ephraim listened in vast respect. 139 On the first recital, so hurriedly given by Jessica, and when she had run to get the staff, he had thought of the matter as one of the shepherd’s “pious mummeries.” It now assumed a graver aspect. The lost staff might possess some magnetic quality which was invaluable, as Old Century believed; but beyond all that was the uncomfortable reflection that Antonio Bernal was somewhere in hiding about Sobrante, and that doubtless it had been he, or his emissary, who had tampered with the mail pouch and caused Marty’s disaster.
“Well, a man that hides must have somethin’ to be ashamed of. And I believe every single word that child has told,” said Aunt Sally, in conclusion of her long harangue.
“H’m! I thought that ‘snake’ had had his fang extracted down there at Los Angeles; but it seems he’s the sort can grow a new one, when needed. Well, I’m powerful glad I’m home again. It takes a lot of honest men to keep watch of one thief, and I’ll prove handy. I’m off. I leave the lads with you. I’m going to find out three things: How Ferd, the dwarf, managed to break jail that night and leave no sign; who robbed that mail pouch; and where Antonio Bernal is at this precious minute.”
“Here, at your service, amigo!” cried a mocking voice, outside the shuttered window. A voice that all recognized at once as belonging to the late manager; yet, when Ephraim had hastily run out and around to that side of the house, there was nobody within sight; and nothing to be heard save the series of terrified shrieks which issued from the room he had left.
For almost the first time in his life Ninian Sharp was under the doctor’s hands; and that gentleman’s verdict upon his patient’s case was simple and plain:
“Nothing the matter with you but breakdown. The result of doing two men’s work instead of one. What you need, and all you need, is a complete change of thought and scene. Go off on some ranch and take a vacation. That’s your medicine.”
“Thank you, doctor, but a prescription upon the nearest drug store would be easier to fill. In the first place I should worry all the time if I were idle, for ‘hustling’ has become my second nature. In the second––where shall I go?”
The physician shrugged his shoulders. He, also, was a busy man and having finished his visit to his patient did not prolong it. He picked up his hat, remarked that he “didn’t doubt so clever a young man could find a fitting place, if he gave what was left of his mind to it,” and bowed himself out, leaving the leaven of his sensible advice to accomplish its legitimate result.
As the doctor left the room the nurse entered, bearing with her a telegram which had been delayed en route, and a letter. It was with some reluctance that she delivered these to the man on the lounge, yet realizing, at the same time, how much worse for 141 him was absolute cessation of all his ordinary interests. With a solicitous smile, she inquired:
“Would you not better let me read these first? They are probably unimportant.”
“Thank you, no. I’m not yet reduced to imbecility and prefer to examine my own correspondence,” returned the invalid, fretfully. Then as if ashamed of his petulance, and with a return to his ordinary manner, added: “This telegram might as well have walked. Would have saved time, judging by the date of it; and as for this letter––that, certainly, has seen better days.”
The nurse smiled again, indulgently, and busied herself in tidying the apartment; an occupation which would have incensed Ninian, since her idea of neatness seemed to him to be but the “disarrangement” of the heaps of papers and manuscript sheets scattered everywhere about, had he not been otherwise interested. A hasty examination of the messages he had received evoked his exultant exclamation:
“Hurrah! The very thing!”
“Good news?” asked the attendant.
“The best in the world. The doctor’s prescription, filled to the letter. A ranch and new business. Say, would you mind going out for a bit? I’d like to get into some other togs and in a hurry. If I can, I’ll make the one o’clock train.”
“The––one o’clock train!” gasped the bewildered nurse, believing that her charge’s brain had given away, even as the physician had suggested it might do.
“Exactly. Please don’t be alarmed. Some country friends of mine have invited me to visit them, and 142 I judge they would be glad if I accepted at once. Their invitation fits in excellently with my own needs and, after I’ve dressed for the trip, I’d be grateful to you for packing a few things, while I write to the bank and telephone to some other places. Just touch that messenger call, will you, please?”
Certainly, he did not now look very like a sick man, as he sprang up and looked about him; save that he put his hand to his head because of a momentary dizziness and seemed somewhat unsteady on his feet. However, his eyes had lost their dullness and a faint color had come into his cheeks; and the attendant saw no reason for opposing his sudden determination.
The letter was Jessica’s, and its envelope had been mended by the postmaster after he had taken it, torn, from the mail pouch. The telegram was from Ephraim Marsh, and had been sent by the first messenger to Marion after that scene in the pantry with Aunt Sally and the little boys. It had been delayed by the curiosity of the operator, but had reached Mr. Sharp at last; and its import was that:
“If you’re willing to use your brains for Sobrante folks, as you used them once before, now’s the time. There’ll be a led horse at Marion till you come, and the sooner the better. ‘Forty-niner.’”
“A led horse. Why, he must have forgotten, if he ever knew, that I’ve my own Nimrod here, that Mrs. Trent insisted upon my accepting, when I left Sobrante before. The horse must go with me, of course, and I flatter myself I can pick up a bit of instruction on riding among those fine ‘boys’ of the little captain’s. I’ll send a return message––no, I 143 won’t, either. I’ll trust to luck and surprise them. Now to get ready.”
A feeling that he was going “home” possessed the young man, and all his simple preparations strengthened rather than weakened him. Activity was his habit, and an hour before the train left the city he had completed his personal arrangements with his office, his bank and his landlord. He had paid his nurse the same salary she would have received had he required her services for the fortnight, as expected, and was ready for what came next.
“I feel as if I were entering upon a new life, instead of taking a rest cure,” he remarked to Mr. Hale, when that gentleman met him at the station, and explained that a Christmas invitation had come for himself, also. “And I say we’ll make it the jolliest holiday those people down there ever knew. I sent a letter to your address, after I ’phoned, and made out a list of things I’d like you to see to. Presents and so on; and I’ll write as soon as I get there and let you know what’s up with the sharpshooter. Some trouble, of course, but reckon it can’t be much. Ha! we’re off. Good-by. Forget nothing, add as much as you please to my list and send the bills to me. Good-by.”
The train rolled noiselessly away from the long platform, and the reporter for the Lancet stowed himself comfortably away on his cushions and slept as he had not slept before since this nervous illness attacked him. Not once did he awake, till the conductor touched him on the shoulder, and stated:
“End of the line, sir. Time to leave.”
Ninian sat up and shook himself, still feeling a bit dazed from his heavy slumber, and had scarcely 144 realized the fact of his arrival before a man limped into the car and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Well done, lad. Welcome to Sobrante!”
“Hello, Mr. Marsh! You here? Sobrante? I thought–––”
“Same thing. This is Marion; as near as we can get to our place on the rails. Remember, don’t you? Been sick, eh? You look rather peaked and I ’low I’d ought–––”
“No apologies. Here I am, and am not ill now. Only been a little overworked; and your telegram, as well as Miss Jessica’s letter, came in the nick of time. Not an hour after the doctor had ordered this very medicine of change and recreation.”
Ephraim looked sharply at his guest and reflected:
“What our business needs is a clear head and a strong body, not an overtaxed man, as this ’pears to be. Well, sick or well, I hope he can see through some of our muddles, if not all; and half a loaf is better than no bread.” Then he gathered the traveler’s belongings, and remarked: “I told Aleck to have a good supper ready. It’s a fine night and I thought we’d ride home afterwards. Unless–––”
They left the car and Ninian answered the other’s unspoken suggestion:
“No, I don’t want to stay all night, good as Janet’s beds are. I’ve had a delicious sleep and feel like another man from this morning. Hello! they’ve taken Nimrod out already, and evidently are waiting for orders. I declare, the handsome beast looks as if he recognized this place and was as glad to get back to it as I am.”