A Woman at Bay - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
He pushed that paper aside, and took a fresh one.
"Now, when you come to the hills, you will approach 'em at what we call the Dog's Nose. So named because that's what it looks like. It's a rock that sticks out right about here, and you can't miss it. It looks exactly like a dog's nose, stickin' out and smelling things.
"You want to go right up under that there dog's nose; and when you git there you'll see a hole in the rock that ain't no bigger than the lower half of that window. It's a leetle bit of a hole, and it's as dark as a pocket inside it, too. n.o.body, even if they found the hole, would ever think of going in there. It ain't invitin' to look at."
"How did you happen to go into it?"
"I didn't. I came out of it. I got lost in that cave for three days once, when I was a boy, and when I found my way out I came out of that hole. n.o.body knows about that entrance but me, though I suppose lots of folks knows it's there."
"And it communicates with the cave?"
"It does. It'll take you to any part of the cave; and there is only one rule to follow in going through it. You'll want a light, though."
"I've got the light. What is the rule?"
"Always--no matter where you are in any of them caves, take the way to the right. Never take a gallery to the left, goin' in either or any direction. It's a rule that holds good in them caves. It's a sort of way that nature provided so's you could find your way through there; and I happened to discover what it was."
"It all sounds very simple and easy."
"And it is, if you've got the pluck and the sand. But it's a ticklish place. There is a good many places in there that I ain't never explored, and don't want to; and it's safe to bet that the hoboes ain't done it, neither. I reckon, mister, that that's about all I kin show you--hold on, though!"
"What now?"
"Well, there's one place up there which it might be handy for you to know about, and I don't think anybody but me knows about it, either."
"What is that?"
"Well, you might find occasion to want to hide yourself away while you are in there."
"That is more than likely, Bill."
"Well, just arter you pa.s.s through the hole that is under the Dog's Nose, and about twenty rods from there, you'll find a place where there is a bowlder sort of set into the rocks. You won't notice it unless you look for it, but it is there. Under it you'll find a small stone wedged fast. If you pull out that small stone, and then push on the big rock, it'll swing around like it was on a pivot, and you kin step inside the hole it leaves, and close up the door after you. You'll find an interestin' place in there, too, if you ever have occasion to use it, mister; and n.o.body will find you there, either."
CHAPTER XIII.
BLACK MADGE'S LIEUTENANT.
The detective pa.s.sed the remainder of that day, and much of the night, in old Bill Turner's company, and during that time they talked incessantly about the mountains to which Nick was going, about the caverns in those mountains, and the trails through them; and when the conversation was finished Nick felt that he could find his way without difficulty wherever he cared to go among them.
When he saw that the old man was tired out, he sent him to bed, and himself dropped upon a couch in Turner's living room, where he slept like a top till morning.
Soon after dawn they were both astir; and after they had eaten some breakfast, and Turner had made his usual pilgrimage to the post office, they began again upon the plans and went over them for the last time.
And then came the task of making the changes in their personal appearance. This, to the layman, sounds like no easy task; but to Nick Carter it was merely the practicing of an art of which he was thoroughly a master.
He had brought with him the things necessary to accomplish the changes; and when the old man returned from the village he set to work--first upon himself--for he knew that he must make his own disguise letter perfect if he hoped to deceive such a man as Handsome.
He first made up his face, not with paints, but with stains that would not wash off, to represent the leathery, weather-beaten countenance of the old man; and here he was, perhaps, fortunate in the fact that the profusion of white whiskers worn by the old man rendered his face the easier to copy, and in reality concealed much of it from view.
Then he adjusted the beard.
But not as false beards are supposed to be adjusted. This was done almost hair by hair. That is, the beard was divided into tufts of hair, and each tuft was stuck on with a glue of Nick's own creation, so that there was no danger that it would drop off under any circ.u.mstances--and so that it could not be pulled off without drawing patches of skin with it.
And this was as it should be, since if any one should suppose that the whiskers might be false, and should seize them and pull sharply upon them, they would resist the effort exactly as if the beard was natural.
In height the two men were about the same. In figure, the old man was possibly somewhat stouter than Nick; but there was not enough difference to be noticeable.
The detective occupied about three hours in making up that disguise, so particular was he about it; but when it was finished at last it was perfect. So perfect, indeed, that Turner regarded him in amazement; then came closer to look into his eyes, and at last he said:
"I'm glad, Mr. Carter, that I didn't meet you on the street in that rig.
It would have frightened me to death. I'd have been sure that I was dead and had met my own ghost, out for a walk."
That night, when the train bound for the city pa.s.sed through Calamont at half-past eleven, a man climbed aboard of it who--if anybody had noticed him particularly--it would have been supposed was the same French Canadian lumberman who had appeared there the day before.
But there was no one there save the ticket agent, and he did not notice particularly. It is certain that he had no idea that in the black-haired man who went away was old Bill Turner.
But so it was. Nick had made the old man up in a representation of the Frenchman; or at least near enough to it so that in the darkness the difference would not be noticed; and the old man, being made to appear young, really felt young, and he went away joyously.
In his pockets he carried letters; one was to Chick, and the other was to Joseph, his confidential servant, in case Chick should happen not to be at home when Turner arrived there.
And those letters gave instructions that Turner was to be treated to everything he wanted, and that Chick and Ten-Ichi should take turns in showing him about the city. Nick a.s.sured them that they could help him quite as much in that way as if they were among the mountains with him, a.s.sisting him in the actual work.
And the next morning--the morning after the departure of Turner--Nick took the old man's place in the customary stroll, or hobble would be a better word, to the post office.
He stopped and talked with people as he met them, having posted himself, with the old man's aid, in what he was to say. And he stood around the post office steps for two hours, as Turner was in the habit of doing.
He was trying out the part; trying it on the dog, so to speak. And he was thoroughly satisfied with the result.
In his talks there in front of the post office he gave it out that he was going to take another trip into the woods; and as it was the season of the year when Turner had been in the habit of being absent, no surprise was felt. And that afternoon he literally pulled up stakes and started.
Once he was in the woods, Nick quickened his pace. He realized now that, figuratively, he had burned his bridges behind him, and that he must see the thing through to the end.
He did not fear the consequences at all; he felt that there was only one chance of his failure, and that was in the shrewd eyes and keen intelligence of Handsome.
Handsome had met Turner twice and talked with him each time. Nick knew Handsome well enough to know that the outlaw would have studied Turner very closely at those interviews; the question now was, would Handsome detect the fraud?
Nick did not think it likely; and, anyhow, the risk had to be taken.
That night the detective made himself a fire and camped in the woods; in the early morning he started on again.
In due course of time he came to the ravine, and went up it to the top as the old man had directed him to do. And he went around the "rocks with a sort of a twist in them" until he found the steps that were cut in the stones, and so mounted to the top.
Far up the second ravine he found the dead tree that hung over it, and the pathway up the side of the hill beside it; and that night he camped again in the woods.
He had not far to go that second morning, after he had eaten some breakfast, before he arrived at the Dog's Nose. It was ten o'clock in the morning when he got there.