Alger Horatio Jr.
Strong and Steady
CHAPTER XXXI.
WALTER'S ESCAPE
Though Walter was in a room on the second floor, the distance to the ground was not so great but that he could easily hang from the window-sill and jump without injury. Before following him in his flight, we will pause to inquire how the robber, unexpectedly taken captive, fared.
Nothing could have surprised Jack more than this sudden turning of the tables. But a minute since Walter was completely in his power. Now, through the boy's coolness and nerve, his thievish intentions were baffled, and he was placed in the humiliating position of a prisoner in his own house.
"Open the door, or I'll murder you!" he roared, kicking it violently.
There was no reply, for Walter was already half way out of the window, and did not think it best to answer.
Jack kicked again, but the door was a strong one, and, though it shook, did not give way.
"Draw the bolt, I say," roared the captive again, appending an oath, "or I'll wring your neck."
But our hero was already on the ground, and speeding away into the shelter of the friendly woods.
If any man was thoroughly mad, that man was Jack. It was not enough that he had been ingloriously defeated, but the most galling thing about it was that this had been done by a boy.
"I'll make him pay for this!" muttered Jack, furiously.
He saw that Walter had no intention of releasing him, and that his deliverance must come from himself. He kicked furiously, and broke through one of the panels of the door; but still the bolt held, and continued to hold, though he threw himself against the door with all his force.
Meanwhile his wife below had listened intently, at the bottom of the staircase, not without anxiety as to the result. She was a woman, and, though by no means of an amiable disposition, she was not without some humanity. She knew her husband's brutal temper, and she feared that Walter would come to harm. Part of her anxiety was selfish, to be sure, for she dreaded the penalty for her husband; but she was partly actuated by a feeling of rough good-will towards her young guest. She didn't mind his being robbed, for she felt that in some way she had been cheated out of that measure of worldly prosperity which was her due, and she had no particular scruple as to the means of getting even with the world. The fact that Walter, too, had suffered bad fortune increased her good-will towards him, and made her more reluctant that he should be ill-treated.
At first, as she listened, and while the conversation was going on, she heard nothing to excite her alarm. But when her husband had been locked in the closet, and began to kick at the door, there was such a noise that Meg, though misapprehending the state of things, got frightened.
"He's killing the poor boy, I'm afraid," she said, clasping her hands. "Why, why need he be so violent? I told him not to harm him."
Next she heard Jack's voice in angry tones, but could not understand what he said. This was followed by a fresh shower of kicks at the resisting door.
"I would go up if I dared," she thought; "but I am afraid I should see the poor boy dying."
She feared, also, her husband's anger at any interference; for, as she had reason to know, his temper was not of the gentlest. So she stood anxiously at the foot of the staircase, and continued to listen.
Meanwhile Jack, finding he could not release himself readily, bethought himself of his wife.
"Meg!" he called out, in stentorian tones.
His wife heard the summons and made haste to obey it.
She hurried upstairs, and, opening the chamber door, found herself, to her surprise, in darkness.
"Where are you, Jack?" she asked, in some bewilderment.
"Here," answered her husband.
"Where?" asked Meg; for the tones were muffled by the interposition of the door, and she could not get a clear idea of where her husband was.
"In the closet, you fool! Come and open the door," was the polite reply.
Wondering how her husband could have got into the closet, and, also, what had become of Walter, she advanced hastily to the closet-door, and drew the bolt.
Jack dashed out furiously, cursing in a manner I shall not repeat.
"How came you here, Jack?" asked his wife. "Where's the boy?"
It was so dark that he could not readily discover Walter's flight. He strode to the bedstead, and, kneeling down, began to feel about for him.
"Curse it, the boy's gone!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you stop him?"
This he said on supposition that Walter had escaped by the stairs.
"I don't know what you mean. I've seen nothing of the boy. Wasn't he here when you came up?"
"Yes, he was, but now he's gone. He must have got out of the window," he added, with a sudden thought.
"I don't understand it," said Meg. "How came you shut up in that closet?"
"The boy sent me in on a fool's errand, and then locked me in."
"Tell me about it, Jack."
Her husband rehearsed the story, heaping execrations upon his own folly for being outwitted by a boy.
"But you've got the pocket-book and the five dollars," said his wife, by way of comforting him.
"No, I haven't. I gave them back to him, to get him to tell me where the rest of the money was. I meant to take it away from him again."
"Then he's escaped with all his money?"
"Yes," growled Jack; "he's fooled me completely. But it isn't too late. I may catch him yet. He's hiding in the woods somewhere. If I do get hold of him, I'll give him something to remember me by. I'll learn him to fool me."
"I wouldn't go out to-night, Jack," said his wife. "It's most twelve."
"If I don't go now, I'll lose him. Go downstairs, Meg, and light the candle."
"Did he have the money with him?"
"He said he hid it."
"Then perhaps he left it behind him. He had to go away in a hurry."
"That's so, Meg. Hurry down, and light the candle, and we'll hunt for it."
The suggestion was a reasonable one, and Jack caught at it. If the money were left behind, it would repay him in part for his mortification at having been fooled by a boy, and he might be tempted to let him go. What vexed him most was the idea of having been baffled completely; and the discovery of the money would go far to make things even.
Meg came up with the lighted candle; and they commenced a joint search, first in the closet, where they found the five pennies which Walter had thrown on the floor, and, afterwards, about the room, and particularly the bedding. But the roll of bills was nowhere to be found. Walter had, as we know, carried it away with him. This was the conclusion to which the seekers were ultimately brought.
"The money aint anywhere here," said Jack. "The boy's got it with him."
"Likely he has," said Meg.
"I'm goin' for him," said her husband. "Go downstairs, Meg, and I'll foller."
"You'd better wait till mornin', Jack," said his wife.
"You're a fool!" he said, unceremoniously. "If I wait till daylight, he'll be out of the woods, and I can't catch him."
"There isn't much chance now. It's dark, and you won't be likely to find him."
"I'll risk that. Anyhow, I'm goin' and so you needn't say any more about it."
Jack descended to the room below, put on his boots and hat, and, opening the outer door, sallied out into the darkness.
He paused before the door in uncertainty.
"I wish I knowed which way he went," he muttered.
There seemed little to determine the choice of direction on the part of the fugitive. There was no regular path, as Jack and his wife were the only dwellers in the forest who had occasion to use one, except such as occasionally strayed in from the outer world. There was, indeed, a path slightly marked, but this Walter could not see in the darkness. Nevertheless, as chance would have it, he struck into it and followed it for some distance.
Having nothing else to determine his course, it was only natural that Jack should take this path. Now that he was already started on his expedition, and found the natural darkness of the night deepened and made more intense by the thick foliage of the forest trees, he realized that his chances of coming upon Walter were by no means encouraging. But he kept on with dogged determination.
"I'd like to catch the young rascal, even if I don't get a penny of the money," he said to himself.
He resolved, in case he was successful, first, to give his victim a severe beating, and next, to convey him home, and keep him for weeks a close prisoner in the very closet in which he had himself been confined. The thought of such an appropriate vengeance yielded him considerable satisfaction, and stimulated him to keep up the search.
CHAPTER XXXII.
A STRANGE HIDING-PLACE
Meanwhile Walter had the advantage of quarter of an hour's start of his pursuer. Jack had indeed been released within five minutes, but he had consumed ten minutes more in searching for the money. It was too dark, however, to make rapid progress. Still Walter pushed on, resolved to put as great a distance as possible between the cabin and himself, for he anticipated pursuit, and judged that, if caught, he would fare badly for the trick he had played upon his host.
He had proceeded perhaps half a mile when he stopped to rest. Two or three times he had tripped over projecting roots which the darkness prevented his seeing in time to avoid.
"I'll rest a few minutes, and then push on," he thought.
It was late, but the excitement of his position prevented him from feeling sleepy. He wished to get out of the woods into some road or open field, where he would be in less danger of encountering Jack, and where perhaps he might find assistance against him.
He was leaning against an immense tree, one of the largest and oldest in the forest. Walter began idly to examine it. He discovered, by feeling, that it was hollow inside. Curiosity led him to examine farther. He ascertained that the interior was eaten out by gradual decay, making a large hollow space inside.
"I shouldn't wonder if I could get in," he said to himself.
He made the attempt, and found that he was correct in his supposition. He could easily stand erect inside.
"That is curious," thought Walter. "The tree must be very old."
He emerged from the trunk, and once more threw himself down beside it. Five minutes later and his attention was drawn by a sound of approaching footsteps. Then came an oath, which sounded startlingly near. It was uttered by Jack, who had tripped over a root, and was picking himself up in no very good humor. The enemy, it appeared, was close upon him.
Walter started to his feet in dismay. His first thought was immediate flight, but if he were heard by Jack, the latter would no doubt be able to run him down.
"What shall I do?" thought Walter, in alarm.
Quickly the hollow trunk occurred to him. He seized his carpet-bag, and with as little delay as possible concealed himself in the interior. He was just in time, for Jack was by this time only a few rods distant. Walter counted upon his passing on; but on reaching the old tree Jack paused, and said aloud, "Where can the young rascal be? I wonder if I have passed him? I'll rest here five minutes. He may straggle along."
With these words he sank upon the ground, in the very same place where Walter had been reclining two minutes before. He was so near that our hero could have put out his hand and touched him.
It was certainly a very uncomfortable situation for Walter. He hardly dared to breathe or to stir lest his enemy should hear him.
"He's led me a pretty tramp," muttered Jack. "I'm as tired as a dog, but I'm bound to get hold of him to-night. If I do, I'll half kill him."
"Then I hope you won't get hold of him," Walter ejaculated inwardly.
He began to wish he had run on instead of seeking this concealment. In the first case, the darkness of the night would have favored him, and even if Jack had heard him it was by no means certain that he would have caught him. Now an unlucky movement or a cough would betray his hiding-place, and there would be no chance of escape. He began to feel his constrained position irksome, but did not dare to seek relief by change of posture.
"I wish he'd go," thought our hero.
But Jack was in no hurry. He appeared to wish to waylay Walter, and was constantly listening to catch the sound of his approach. At last a little relief came. A sound was heard, which Jack suspected might proceed from his late guest. He started to his feet, and walked a few steps away. Walter availed himself of this opportunity to change his position a little.
"It isn't he," said Jack, disappointed. "Perhaps he's gone another way."
He did not throw himself down this time, but remained standing, in evident uncertainty. At length Walter was relieved to hear him say, "Well, I shan't catch him by stopping here, that's sure."
Then he started, and Walter, listening intently, heard the sound of his receding steps. When sufficient time had elapsed, he ventured out from his concealment, and stopped to consider the situation.
What should he do?
It was hardly prudent to go on, for it would only bring him nearer to the enemy. If he ventured back, he would be farther away from the edge of the woods, and might encounter Meg, who might also be in pursuit. He did not feel in danger of capture from this quarter, but the woman might find means of communicating with her husband. On the whole, it seemed safest, for the present at least, to stick to the friendly tree which had proved so good a protector. He stood beside it, watching carefully, intending, whenever peril threatened, to take instant refuge inside. This was not particularly satisfactory, but he hoped Jack would soon tire of the pursuit, and retrace his steps towards the cabin. If he should do that, he would then be safe in continuing his flight.
Jack pushed on, believing that our hero was in advance. It had been a fatiguing day, and this made his present midnight tramp more disagreeable. His hopes of overtaking Walter became fainter and fainter, and nature began to assert her rights. A drowsiness which he found it hard to combat assailed him, and he found he must yield to it for a time at least.
"I wish I was at home, and in bed," he muttered. "I'll lie down and take a short nap, and then start again."
He threw himself down on the ground, and no longer resisted the approaches of sleep. In five minutes his senses were locked in a deep slumber, which, instead of a short nap, continued for several hours.
While he is sleeping we will go back to Walter. He, too, was sleepy, and would gladly have laid down and slept if he had dared. But he felt the peril of his position too sensibly to give way to his feelings. He watched vigilantly for an hour, but nothing could be seen of Jack. That hour seemed to him to creep with snail-like pace.
"I can't stand this watching till morning," he said to himself. "I will find some out-of-the-way place, and try to sleep a little."
Searching about he found such a place as he desired. He lay down, and was soon fast asleep. So pursuer and pursued had yielded to the spell of the same enchantress, and half a mile distant from each other were enjoying welcome repose.
Some hours passed away. The sun rose, and its rays lighted up the dim recesses of the forest. When Walter opened his eyes he could not at first remember where he was. He lifted his head from his carpet-bag which he had used as a pillow, and looked around him in surprise; but recollection quickly came to his aid.
"I must have been sleeping several hours," he said to himself, "for it is now morning. I wonder if the man who was after me has gone home?"
He decided that this was probable, and resolved to make an attempt to reach the edge of the forest. He wanted to get into the region of civilization again, if for no other reason, because he felt hungry, and was likely to remain so as long as he continued in the forest. He now felt fresh and strong, and, taking his carpet-bag in his hand, prepared to start on his journey. But he had scarcely taken a dozen steps when a female figure stepped out from a covert, and he found himself face to face with Meg.
Not knowing but that her husband might be close behind, he started back in alarm and hesitation. She observed this, and said, "You needn't be afraid, boy. I don't want to harm you."
"Is your husband with you?" asked Walter, on his guard.
"No, he isn't. He started out after you before midnight, and hasn't been back since. That made me uneasy, and I came out to look for him."
"I have seen him," said Walter.
"Where and when?" asked the woman, eagerly.
It was strange that such a coarse brute should have inspired any woman with love, but Meg did certainly love her husband, in spite of his frequent bad treatment.
"It must have been within an hour of the time I left your house. He stopped under that tree. That was where I saw him."
"Did he see you?"
"No, I was hidden."
"How long did he stay?"
"Only a few minutes, to get rested, I suppose. Then he went on."
"In what direction?"
"That way."
"I am glad he did not harm you. He was so angry when he started that I was afraid of what would happen if he met you. You must keep out of his way."
"That is what I mean to do if I can," said Walter. "Can you tell me the shortest way out of the woods?"
"Go in that direction," said the woman, pointing, "and half a mile will bring you out."
"It is rather hard to follow a straight path in the woods. If you will act as my guide, I will give you a dollar."
Meg hesitated.
"If my husband should find out that I helped you to escape, he would be very angry."
"Why need he know? You needn't tell him you met me."
The woman hesitated. Finally love of money prevailed.
"I'll do it," she said, abruptly. "Follow me."
She took the lead, and Walter followed closely in her steps. Remembering the night before, he was not wholly assured of her good faith, and resolved to keep his eyes open, and make his escape instantly if he should see any signs of treachery. Possibly Meg might intend to lead him into a trap, and deliver him up to her husband. He was naturally trustful, but his adventures in the cabin taught him a lesson of distrust.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
WALTER SHOWS STRATEGY
Walter followed Meg through the woods. He felt sure that he would not have far to go to reach the open fields. He had been delayed heretofore, not by the distance, but by not knowing in what direction to go.
Few words were spoken between him and Meg. Remembering what had happened at the cabin, and that even now he was fleeing from her husband, he did not feel inclined to be sociable, and her thoughts were divided between the money she was to be paid as the price of her services, and her husband, for whose prolonged absence she could not account.
After walking for fifteen minutes, they came to the edge of the forest. Skirting it was a meadow, wet in parts, for the surface was low.
"Where is the road?" asked Walter.
"You'll have to cross this meadow, and you'll come to it. It isn't mor'n quarter of a mile. You'll find your way well enough without me."
Walter felt relieved at the prospect of a speedy return to the region of civilization. It seemed to him as if he had passed the previous night far away in some wild frontier cabin, instead of in the centre of a populous and thriving neighborhood, within a few miles of several flourishing villages.
He drew out a dollar-bill, and offered it to Meg.
"This is the money I agreed to pay you," he said. "Thank you, besides."
"You haven't much cause to thank me," she said, abruptly. "I would have robbed you if I had the chance."
"I am sorry for that," said Walter. "Money got in that way never does any good."
"Money is sure to do good, no matter how it comes," said the woman, fiercely. "Think of what it will buy!—a comfortable home, ease, luxury, respect. Some time before I die I hope to have as much as I want."
"I hope you will," said Walter; "but I don't think you will find it as powerful as you think."
His words might as well have remained unspoken, for she paid no attention to them. She seemed to be listening intently. Suddenly she clutched his arm.
"I hear my husband's steps," she said, hurriedly. "Fly, or it will be the worse for you."
"Thank you for the caution," said Walter, roused to the necessity of immediate action.
"Don't stop to thank me. Go!" she said, stamping her foot impatiently.
He obeyed at once, and started on a run across the meadow.
A minute later, Jack came in sight.
"What, Meg, are you here?" he said, in surprise.
"Yes; I got anxious about you, because you did not come home. I was afraid something had happened to you."
"What could happen to me?" he retorted, contemptuously. "I'm not a baby. Have you seen the boy?"
He did not wait for an answer, for, looking across the meadow, he saw the flying figure of our hero.
"There he is, now!" he exclaimed, in a tone of fierce satisfaction.
"Let him go, Jack!" pleaded Meg, who, in spite of herself, felt a sympathy for the boy who, like herself, had been unfortunate.
He threw off the hand which she had placed upon his arm, saying, contemptuously, "You're a fool!" and then dashed off in pursuit of Walter.
Walter had the start, and had already succeeded in placing two hundred yards between himself and his pursuer. But Jack was strong and athletic, and could run faster than a boy of fifteen, and the distance between the two constantly diminished. Walter looked over his shoulder, as he ran, and, brave as he was, there came over him a sickening sensation of fear as he met the fierce, triumphant glance of his enemy.
"Stop!" called out Jack, hoarsely.
Walter did not answer, neither did he obey. He was determined to hold out to the last, and when he surrendered it would be only as a measure of necessity.
"Are you going to stop or not? You'd better," growled Jack.
Walter still remained silent; but his heart bounded with sudden hope as he saw before him a means of possible escape. Only a few rods in advance was a deep ditch, at least twelve feet wide, over which a single plank was thrown as a bridge for foot-passengers. Walter summoned his energies, and sped like a deer forward and over the bridge, when, stooping down, he hastily pulled it over after him, thus cutting off his enemy's advance. Jack saw his intention, and tried to reach the edge of the ditch soon enough to prevent it. But he was just too late.
Baffled and enraged, he looked across the gulf which separated him from his intended victim.
"Put back that plank," he roared, with an oath.
"I would rather not," said Walter, who stood facing him on the other side, hot and excited.
"I'll kill you if I get at you," said Jack, shaking his fist menacingly.
"What have I done to you?" asked Walter, quietly. "Why do you want to harm me?"
"Didn't you lock me up in the closet last night?"
"You wanted to take my money."
"I'll have it yet."
"It was all I could do," said Walter, who did not wish to excite any additional anger in his already irritated foe. "I haven't got but a little money, and I wanted to keep it."
"Money isn't the only thing you may lose," said the ruffian, significantly. "Put back that plank. Do you hear me?"
"Yes," said Walter; "I hear, but I cannot do it."
"You're playin' a dangerous game, young one," said Jack. "Perhaps you think I can't get over."
"I don't think you can," said Walter, glancing at the width of the ditch.
"You may find yourself mistaken."
Walter did not answer.
"Will you put back that plank?" demanded Jack, once more.
"No," answered Walter.
"You'll be sorry for it then, you young cub!" said Jack, fiercely.
He walked back about fifty feet, and then faced round. His intention was clear enough. He meant to jump over the ditch. Could he do it? That was the question which suggested itself to the anxious consideration of our hero. If the ground had been firm on the other side, such a jump for a grown man would not have been by any means a remarkable one. But the soft, spongy soil was unfavorable for a spring. Still it was possible that Jack might succeed. If he did, was there any help for Walter?
Our hero took the plank, and put it over his shoulder, moving with it farther down the edge. An idea had occurred to him, which had not yet suggested itself to Jack, or the latter might have been less confident of success.
Jack stood still for a moment, and then, gathering up his strength, dashed forward. Arrived at the brink, he made a spring, but the soft bank yielded him no support. He fell short of the opposite bank by at least two feet, and, to his anger and disgust, landed in the water and slime at the bottom of the ditch. With a volley of execrations, he scrambled out, landing at last, but with the loss of one boot, which had been drawn off by the clinging mud in which it had become firmly planted. Still he was on the same side with Walter, and the latter was now in his power. This was what he thought; but an instant later he saw his mistake. Walter had stretched the plank over the ditch a few rods further up, and was passing over it in safety.
Jack ran hastily to the spot, hoping to gain possession of the plank which had been of such service to his opponent, and want of which had entailed such misfortunes upon him. But Walter was too quick for him. The plank was drawn over, and again he faced his intended victim with the width of the ditch between.
He looked across at Walter with a glance of baffled rage. It was something new to him to be worsted by a boy, and it mortified him and angered him to such an extent that, had he got hold of him at that moment, murder might have been committed.
"Put down that plank, and come across," he called out.
Walter did not reply.
"Why don't you answer, you rascal?"
"You know well enough what I would say," said Walter. "I don't care to come."
"I shall get hold of you sooner or later."
"Perhaps you will," said Walter; "but not if I can help it."
"You're on the wrong side of the ditch. You can't escape."
"So are you on the wrong side. You can't get home without crossing."
"I can keep you there all day."
"I can stand it as well as you," said Walter.
He felt bolder than at first, for he appreciated the advantage which he had in possessing the plank. True the situation was not a comfortable one, and he would have gladly exchanged it for one that offered greater security. Still, on the whole, he felt cool and calm, and waited patiently for the issue.
