A Cousin's Conspiracy Part 13

"I'll pay him if he'll see me through all right."

"I have the very man for you. Here, Luke!"

Luke Robbins heard the call and approached.

The farmer looked at him doubtfully.

"A Quaker?" he said in a disappointed tone.

"He is no more a Quaker than you are. He is a detective, and very anxious to meet either of the Fox brothers."

The farmer brightened up.

"He's the man I'm after, then."

A bargain was struck between Luke and Ezekiel Mason whereby the farmer promised to pay him five dollars to accompany him home and remain overnight at the farmhouse until he had disposed of the money in the way he intended.

Luke was glad to accept the proposal. It promised variety and possibly adventure. The farmer climbed into the buggy and the Quaker detective, following, took a seat by his side.

After they had driven some time they reached a part of the road where for a clear mile in advance there was not a house or building of any kind to be seen.

"This is the place I was most afraid of," said the farmer.

"Yes, it seems to be lonely. I wish one of the Fox brothers would happen along."

"Why?" asked the farmer in a tone of alarm.

"Because I'd like to tackle him."

"Why are you so anxious to tackle him? I cannot understand."

"Then I'll tell you, my honest friend. There is a reward of a thousand dollars offered for the capture of one of these famous outlaws, dead or alive."

Ezekiel Mason shrugged his shoulders.

"I'd rather earn the money some other way!" he said.

"You are only a peaceful farmer, while I am a fighting Quaker," responded Luke.

As he spoke he looked up the road, and his glance fell upon a short, compactly built man in a gray suit, who was walking toward them. He seemed a quiet, commonplace person, but there was something about him that attracted Luke's attention.

"Do you know that man?" he asked abruptly.

"No," answered Mason after a rapid glance.

"Are the Fox brothers tall men?" asked Luke.

"One only."

"The other?"

"Is about the size of the man who is approaching."

Luke did not reply, but examined still more critically the advancing pedestrian.

"If this should be one of the Foxes----" he began.

"Do you think it is?" asked the farmer in a terrified tone.

"I can't tell. If it proves to be, do exactly as I tell you."

"Yes," replied the farmer, now thoroughly alarmed.

By this time the newcomer was but twenty feet distant. Though his appearance and dress were commonplace, his eyes, as they could see, were dark and glittering.

He made a halt.

"Friends," he said, "can you oblige me with the time?"

The farmer was about to produce his big old-fas.h.i.+oned silver watch when Luke nudged him sharply.

"Leave him to me," he whispered in a tone audible only to the farmer.

"Thee has asked the wrong party," he said. "We don't carry watches."

The pedestrian regarded him with contempt. Whoever he might be he looked upon a Quaker as a mild, inoffensive person, hardly deserving the name of man.

"I didn't speak to you," he said scornfully.

The pedestrian's next move was a bold one.

"I am tired," he said. "Give me a ride."

"Will thee excuse us?" said the Quaker meekly.

"Oh, shut up!" cried the a.s.sumed pedestrian. "Quakers should be seen and not heard."

Then to the farmer: "I am tired. Let me into your carriage."

"There is no room," said the farmer nervously.

"Then tell the Quaker to get out and I will take his place."

Ezekiel Mason was by no means a brave man and he did not know what to say to this impudent proposal.

He looked appealingly at Luke.

"I will accommodate the gentleman," said the latter meekly. With the words he rose from his seat and jumped to the ground.