The Hills of Refuge Part 34

"You can't fool me with that prim look of yours, Miss Mary," the wounded man said, smiling wanly from his pillow, as Mary bent over him. "You know all about it. I'm not such a fool as to think that two big things would just happen together like you being here yesterday and that other piling in so quick afterwards."

"What do you mean by 'that other'?" Mary asked, in groping surprise.

"Listen, Ma, listen at her!" Tobe laughed. "You know women better 'n I do. Ain't she just making out?"

"She looks to me like she's really puzzled," Mrs. Keith answered. "The truth is, Miss Mary, the money for the Atlanta trip was sent last night, an' we don't know who it come from; but Tobe declares you are at the bottom of it."

"I believe it, and nothing won't shake me from it," Tobe insisted, still smiling confidently.

"You say--you say that you got the money!" Mary fairly gasped in surprise.

"Not only that, but a cool hundred over the amount," Tobe went on. "You'd as well get off your high perch, Miss Mary Rowland. You see, I've got evidence."

"Evidence! I don't understand." Mary was truly bewildered.

"Yes. I had no sooner mentioned it to Mrs. Bartlett this morning than she told about how you was riding from place to place to borrow the money. I can put two and two together easy enough. You simply got the money and are trying to keep from being known in it, that's all."

"I give you my word, Tobe, I know nothing about it," Mary answered, her head hanging in embarra.s.sment. "I confess I _did_ try to get the money, and--and I intended to try again to-day. Of course, I'm glad it has come."

"I believe she is in earnest, Tobe," Mrs. Keith said, her gaunt hands clutching the foot of the bedstead. "Well, it is awfully strange, Miss Mary. It happened like this. I was up with Tobe to give him his fever mixture about two o'clock this morning, when down the street, alongside Mrs. Bartlett's picket fence, I saw two men coming. It looked like one was trying to persuade the other to do something that he didn't exactly want to tackle, an' my first thought was that they were n.i.g.g.e.rs trying to rob some hen-roost. But while I was watching, sorter scrouched down on the door-sill, so as not to be seen, the two men come on to our gate and halted. Then in the starlight, that was pretty bright, I saw they was white men. I was still, an' so was they for a minute; then I heard one of them say, sorter peevish-like: 'Go on. Knock at the door, an'

when somebody comes out hand it to 'em and say what I told you to say.

That ain't hard to remember. n.o.body won't hurt you.'"

Tobe laughed merrily from his bed. "'Fraid he'd get shot, I reckon.

Think o' that, Miss Mary--afraid he'd have somebody pull down on him when he was out to do a kind deed like that!"

Mrs. Keith's smile blended into her son's mood, and she went on:

"The feller that was doing the ordering opened the gate an' sorter shoved the other one in and stayed back behind hisse'f. On come the other one then, and found me settin' on the door-sill. It seemed to scare the very wits out of 'im, for at the sudden sight of me rising from my seat he made a gruntin' sound, and would have bolted outright if I hadn't halted 'im. I asked him what he wanted. For a minute he was tongue-tied and then he hauled out something that I took for a gun at first, but which was a big fat roll o' Uncle Sam's currency wrapped in tissue-paper.

"It's a present from a friend an' well-wisher of the young man that was hurt. He hopes he will use it and get well.' That was all he said or would say. He had a sort o' Irish twist to his tongue, I should say, and he had on a nice suit of dark-gray clothes. He was a plumb stranger in this place, it seemed to me. I know I never laid eyes on him before.

Well, sir, he just bolted, an' him an' the other feller made off towards the square at a lively gait. I didn't then know what was in the roll, for I had only the feel of my fingers to guide me, but you bet I hustled in and turned up the lamp. You can't imagine my astonishment. I was so crazy that I could not count the stuff. Tobe was asleep, and thar I stood at that center-table with all that boodle. Tobe woke up and saw me, and I told him as well as I could what had happened, and me an' him counted the stuff bill by bill--some tens, some twenties, and as high up as fifties. Five hundred dollars! I locked the front door. I wanted to bolt down the winders, hot as the night was. I thought about getting out Tobe's revolver. As I say, I was plumb off my nut. I knowed I ought not to 'a' done it, but I stayed awake and let Tobe chatter till daybreak.

He was in for sending to the doctor an' letting him know at once, but we didn't till about seven o'clock. And Doctor Harrison heated the wires hot between here and Atlanta. It is all ready fixed down there, and our tickets bought. We are to take the one-o'clock through express. The doctor is going along, too, an' a nurse, just for the trip. The doctor engaged the drawing-room in a sleeping-car, whar he says thar hain't a bit of jolting, and plenty o' s.p.a.ce for Tobe to stretch out comfortable.

Four buck n.i.g.g.e.rs from the cotton-warehouse is coming to tote Tobe on a cot to the train, and a whole drug-store o' mixtures is going along. The doctor is powerful pleased, and said we was taking it just in the nick o' time. In fact, he said we mustn't be too hopeful, as all depended on what Doctor Elliot would be able to do down thar. He said we was too excited, for one thing, an' that we must calm ourselves down--that a trip like this would be hard enough on Tobe, anyway. I promised I'd keep Tobe quiet, but how can I? Every minute somebody drops in to find out if the tale going about is so, and we go over it again."

"I am afraid that I am exciting him now," said Mary, as she rose. "I must be going. I came in this morning, Tobe, to--to find out how you are," she said, haltingly, "and I am delighted to hear the good news."

"I know you are--I know that," Tobe answered, extending his pale hand.

"I'm glad you come, Miss Mary. Coming like you have has wiped out all hard feeling between me and your brothers. If I get well I'll do my level best to keep the thing out of court, and if I die I'll leave word that I was as much to blame as the boys."

CHAPTER XXII

The sensation which came over the gentle girl as she went out into the cool morning air was indescribable. She felt almost as if the balmy sunlight were some joy-giving fluid to be drunk like wine. Her step was buoyant. She told herself that a veritable miracle had happened. She could not explain it, but it had happened. Her unspoken prayer constantly framed in heart-sinking desire had been answered. She didn't want aid to come from Albert Frazier, and it had not.

This thought reminded her that she must try to see him before he had put himself to the trouble of getting the money at the bank. So she hastened toward the square.

She was soon entering the bank, and in the little vestibule she saw Frazier in earnest conversation with an employee of the bank. Frazier's heavy brow was clouded over as with displeasure. He failed to note her presence at first, and she heard him say, angrily:

"I don't see any necessity of waiting for him. It is a mere matter of form, anyway. I'm in a hurry right now."

The embarra.s.sed clerk was about to reply when Frazier noticed Mary and turned to meet her, his hat in hand.

"I've been delayed by these idiots," he said, fuming. "I've always had my check honored without delay, but simply because I overchecked a little yesterday they want me to wait and see the president. Bos.h.!.+ I'll show them a thing or two! We need another bank here, anyway, and I'll get one started. These fellows have a monopoly and are getting entirely too particular. I suppose you got tired waiting for me, and--"

"No, it wasn't that," Mary corrected him. "The Keiths have already got the money."

"Got the money!" he repeated. He took her arm, and in almost benumbed astonishment led her out to his buggy in front. She explained as well as she could, and noted the slow look of sullen chagrin steal over his face. "And you say they don't know who sent it? That sounds fishy to me.

Who ever heard of such a thing?"

Mary was unable to make an adequate reply. His face was clouded over and growing darker every minute.

"Well," he asked, "what are you going to do this morning?"

"I want to call on Mrs. Quinby at the hotel," she answered. "I promised to come the next time I was in town. You mustn't bother about me. I shall take dinner with her."

As she spoke Mary turned toward the hotel, and Frazier walked along with her, taking care to be on the outside of the pavement, as was the custom. The look of disappointed anger was leaving his face and a shrewd expression was taking its place.

"I'll be around to take you home after dinner, then," he remarked, his glance failing to meet her upturned eyes. "The truth is, I must see my brother and have a roundabout chat with him in regard to the boys."

"In regard to them?" Mary said, in a startled undertone.

"Yes. It is like this," he went on, his shrewd expression deepening.

"Things are not quite in as good shape as they were, little girl. I didn't intend to tell you yet, but I reckon I may as well. It seems that the grand jury has been criticizing my brother in a roundabout way for not making a more thorough effort to--to locate the boys, and I'm a little bit afraid that he may telegraph to Texas and make inquiry of the man whose name was signed to the letter I showed him. I'll have to watch him closely and try to prevent that, you know."

"Oh!" Mary muttered, in alarm. "Then he might--"

"Yes, if he got on to that trick he would be furious and maybe see through the whole thing--find out about my interest in you and all the rest. He saw me with you the other day, and I had to pretend that I was pumping you on the sly to help him locate your brothers. It went down, for he is none too bright, but there is no telling when he may suspicion the truth and then, you see, he might take a notion to search the mountains. That would be bad, wouldn't it? But I'm going to work hard to-day to throw him off. If he should happen to see us together I'll tell him--you see, he knows I've had financial deals with your father--I'll tell him that you came to pay me some interest or something like that. As a last resort I may--I don't say it would come to that--but as a last resort I may just come out flat with the truth and tell him, you know, that you are--well, what you are to me, and throw our case on his mercy. I don't know how he would act about it, I'm sure, but he might, you know, give the boys a chance to--to--"

He seemed unable to proceed further in his crude diplomacy, and Mary, blinded by terror to his designs, suppressed a deep sigh, and with tight lips remained silent. They were now at the entrance of the hotel.

"I'll find out all I can," he said, as he was leaving her, "and will let you know when I come for you this afternoon. By the way, I'll drive around to the rear door, and we can go out by the back street without pa.s.sing through the square. We have to be very careful. It is a wonder folks haven't got on to my trips out your way, but they haven't so far, it seems, and they must not just now. It might upset things awfully."

Mary went into the office of the hotel. Sam Lee was behind the counter, and came to her quickly.

"How d' do, Miss Mary?" he cried, flus.h.i.+ng to the roots of his smoothly matted hair, which lay over his eyebrows like the bang of a mountain school-girl. "Mrs. Quinby is out the back way, buying a load of frying-chickens from a farmer. She will be in in a minute. Will you wait here, or will you go up to the parlor?"

Mary decided to go to the parlor, dreading the entrance of some acquaintance and not being in the mood for greetings or conversation.

Sam accompanied her, gallantly opening the parlor door and going in to raise the blinds of the shaded windows.

"Oh, by the way, Miss Mary," he said, as he was about to leave, "how did you come out with that circus man I told you about that wanted to do farm work?"

"Very well," the girl replied.

"And he is satisfactory?"