Mothering on Perilous Part 22

"Well, I haint played no more keeps sence. I know I can't play, and I haint fool enough to throw away good marvles."

Convinced but not satisfied, Taulbee frowned darkly. "Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling this spring," he demanded, "they never growed on trees." The finger was no longer pointing, it was doubled up in a fist under Geordie's nose.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling?'"]

At last came the hesitating, reluctant answer: "Me'n' Lige Munn and Harl Drake and Benoni Somers went pardners."

"You put up the marvles and them the fingers?"

"Yes, and they's the best players in school, and allus cleans out t'other boys; and I'm right smart of a good trader, and git a better price than they could; so they puts in all their time a-winning, and turns all the marvles over to me to sell; and then I git the halves on every marvle."

"And then you set up and tell her you haint played nary keep this school?"

"I _haint_ never played none," reaffirmed Geordie, in conscious innocence; "I never toch my hand to nary keep this whole school!"

The whites of Taulbee's eyes were now red; he ground his teeth. "Dad swinge your ole grave-robber soul, I aim to kill you dead," he shouted, leaping across the table, and followed by every boy but Absalom in the direction of the unfortunate Geordie.

It was ten minutes before I, with the a.s.sistance of Absalom and a broomstick, rescued a torn and bleeding victim from the howling, thres.h.i.+ng ma.s.s under which he was buried, and sent for the trained nurse.

I have sat here to-night wondering at the light my acquaintance with Geordie has shed upon the vexed questions of acc.u.mulation of capital, formation of trusts, cornering of markets, dealings in futures, and, last but not least, the perfect compatibility of sharp-practice and law-breaking with sincere piety and philanthropy.

But alas, these are only surface thoughts,--deep in my heart is the sharp knowledge that to-morrow I must lose Nucky, and that he cares very little that he must go and leave me.

XXIX

LIBERTY AND NEW LIFE

_Friday._

At daybreak this morning, heavy detonations began to rend the air, and we knew that the road-blasting had begun. It was almost impossible to get the cottage cleaned,--the boys, especially Nucky, hung out of windows and doors, eagerly watching the puffs of smoke down the road, and listening for the loud reports. As we went over to breakfast, we could see Blant and the others at work. I noticed that Nucky ate not a bite, and was very pale,--I hoped that he was at last realizing it was his last day with me, and was feeling some of the pain I felt in the separation. We were all pouring out of the dining-room after the meal, when several sharp, near-by gun-shots, following a particularly loud blast of powder, sent all flying to the front. Up the steep mountain side facing the school a man was leaping, while down in the road below ran another, stopping only to aim and fire.

"It's Blant!" called out a score of voices; "he's got away! Go it, Blant,--run, oh, run!"

It was indeed Blant, making desperate speed up the steep slope. The mountain is cleared halfway, not a rock or a tree affording shelter; above that is the timber-line. All the school was by this time at the fence, breathlessly watching the breathless ascent. The keeper, selecting a vantage-ground just outside the school gate, took his stand and grimly proceeded to do his "whole duty," firing swiftly, calmly, surely, at the flying figure. In running accompaniment to the gun-shots, Nucky's voice rang out sharp and clear. "Keep to the right a little-grain!" "Drap down in the swag there, so's he can't hit you so easy!" "Make for them spruce-pines! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" Bullets raised tiny clouds of dust about Blant's feet, and on the slope just ahead of him; the seconds seemed ages; our hearts stood still. Once he stopped short, clutching his left arm; then ran on again, more swiftly than ever, his arm dangling strangely. Nucky's voice, edged with agony, faltered no more than did the bullets. "Can't you move no quicker'n that? Seems like I could crawl faster! Once you reach the timber, he'll never hit you! Oh, hurry! hurry! hurry! You're getting nigh now. The trees! the trees! the trees! Oh G.o.d, he's to 'em,--he's safe!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Nucky's voice rang out sharp and clear ... 'Make for them spruce pines! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!'"]

And, indeed, he was. After a few parting shots into the timber, the keeper shook his head, mopped the sweat from his brow, shouldered his gun and turned to the other prisoners, who had followed him down the road, and to the rest of us.

"Well," he said, "I done my best, as my oath required, though sore again' my will. But he had too good a start. It certainly was pyeert of him to get on the far side from me before that big blast went off; and it tuck me plumb by surprise. Of course I looked for him to try to escape at the first; but after he refused to use his gun to get away, I give up the notion, though I mind now he said plain he wa'n't willing to go to Frankfort. Well, I never done a more painful thing than try to kill him as he run for his life,--if he was my own brother I couldn't have felt worse--but public servants is called on to do mighty onnatural and disagreeable things sometimes. And now that I tried my best and failed, I am free to say I'm glad none of them bullets never hit no vital, and that it was his arm, not his heart, I put out of business.

"Yes, I consider that 'ere Blant as perfect a gentleman as ever I seed; and I think it was a mighty sensible thing of him not to stay and stand trial and go to Frankfort. Why, Frankfort is intended for criminals, and G.o.d knows that boy haint got a criminal bone in him, and never did have.

Of course his mistake was in ever givin' himself up when he kilt Rich and Todd,--that was the dad-burn foolishest thing ever I heared of, and come nigh being his ruination, and that of his family.

"Well, I reckon he's making tracks for home and the babe now--G.o.d grant the pore little creetur'll live till he gits there--and I expect he will rest pretty oneasy for a few days, allowing me and the sheriff will be low-down enough to hunt him. Which knowing the law like we do, we haint got the least notion of,--one of the very pillars of the criminal law is that no man's life shall be twice in jeopardy for the same offense; and certainly Blant's life couldn't be worse jeoparded than it was by my gun this hour; and being as the law is satisfied, I am, and I may confidently say the sheriff will be. Yes, I allow that by next week Blant will be out in perfect peace, putting in his c.r.a.p. I hate to think of his feelings over seeing his land in Cheever possession; but I'll lay my life he'll stand to his word not to shoot another shot, and that the Marrs-Cheever war is over."

When I turned around a little later, Nucky, who had been at my side, was gone,--doubtless to see Blant safely home, and to take him the word of his immunity from capture.

_Sat.u.r.day, Bed-time._

To-night Nucky came back, more radiant and happy than I have ever seen him, to be greeted by the unanimous question, "How long has Blant been aiming to escape?"

"Ever sence he heared he would be sent to Frankfort,--he never had no notion of going there. He has knowed all along the prisoners was going to work the road, and fixed on that as his best chance to get away. If he'd a-told me sooner, I'd have felt better,--but he never did till last Sunday. Then I felt happy again, though of course I was afeared Joe's gun might stop him.

"But now he's home, and the babe's nigh dead with happiness, but aiming to live when she gits used to it, and paw is all holp up in his spirits, and the young uns has got their minds and stomachs comforted, and a big c.r.a.p's a-going in immediate, and everything's all right."

There was silence for quite a while; then Taulbee inquired, in a low voice, as one may speak of the dead,

"Has the Cheevers got the bottom?"

A wave of color surged over Nucky's face, and then receded, leaving him deathly pale.

"Yes, they got it," he answered slowly, painfully, at last; "Blant sent 'em word he give it to 'em, and wisht he could give 'em back the lives he tuck, too."

Another deep silence followed; then there was a still more searching question:

"Do you aim to let 'em keep it when you git grown?"

Nucky closed his eyes; his face was sharp and tense with the inward struggle; his breath came with difficulty. It was a long time before he spoke; then,

"I allow I'll be the same kind of a hero Blant is," he replied.

_Easter Sunday._

It is the season of new life. To-day the brown mountain sides are suddenly clothed with innumerable tender shades of green, and against them the exquisite "sarvice" tree, incomparable symbol of spiritual renascence, stands forth in unearthly beauty. It speaks to me not only of the awakening of Blant and Nucky to higher things, and of the coming day when from all hearts shall be cast out the "dread brood of Chaos and Old Night," pride, hatred and warfare, but of my own wonderful resurrection from grief, despair and selfishness to life and love and service. Now that I have Nucky back again, my joy is perfect, my cup overflows. To-day I have written my agent to accept one of the offers I have had for the old home,--the proceeds shall be used for sending my boys to college when the time comes. Henceforth my home is here,--here, where my once lonely and drifting barque is held in a fair harbor by twelve strong anchors. Lapped continually by warm tides of love and youth and joy. And my dearest hope is that the rest of my days may be spent Mothering on Perilous.