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He could not see that life held anything but gloom for him--black, impenetrable, ever thickening. He had but one thing left to live for--a revenge as dark as were the wrongs which he had suffered.
He knew that government agents have shrewd wits, keen eyes, strong arms, and never let a moons.h.i.+ner escape if, through any strategy, they may bring about his capture; he knew that since the discovery and destruction of his still he was a marked man; so it was nearing dusk when, after intensely cautious and immensely skilful manoeuvering against discovery, he actually entered the Layson grounds.
The long, exciting afternoon, full of Queen Bess, a certain sense of triumph over Barbara Holton, the extent of which she could not guess, countless thrills of grat.i.tude and exultation born of the kindness and consideration shown her by Miss Alathea and the Colonel, had sped away before Madge realized that it had been half-spent. Now, though, the deepening twilight warned her of the flight of time and told her that she must, perforce, perform the task for which she had descended from the mountains.
All the others except Frank had drifted toward the house, and she had hung behind for the express purpose of getting private speech with him, when she had the day's first opportunity.
"Mr. Frank," said she, "afore we go into th' house I got a word to say to you as I don't want n.o.body but you to hear."
A quick glance at her face showed him that what she had to say was, really, of great importance, for her lovely mouth was serious, her deep eyes were full of worry, her smooth brow was nearer to real frowning than he had ever seen it.
"Why, Madge, what is the matter?"
She put her hand upon his arm, turning her sweet face up to him with a revelation of solicitude which, had she known how plain it was, she would have hidden at all hazard. "It may mean life or death to you," she told him solemnly.
"Life or death to me, little girl? What are you talking of?" said he, almost incredulous.
"Joe Lorey's still were raided by the revenuers after you come down!"
"It can't be possible!"
"It is. It lies in ruins and in ashes an' he is hidin' out among th'
mountings, somewhars, in danger, ev'ry minute, of arrest an', then, of prison. 'Twas all he had in th' wide world."
"Poor fellow! I am sorry," said Layson, with quick sympathy. "I'll see what can be done. And you say he's hiding out up in the mountains?"
She hesitated. "I said so, but I reckon it ain't true, exactly. It was that that made me hurry down to speak to you. Some say as how he has come down into th' bluegra.s.s to find th' man as gin th' word. It is a crime as never is forgiven in th' mountings."
As she spoke, unseen, behind them, a dark, slouching, furtive figure slipped across an open s.p.a.ce and took a crouching stand behind a tree near by. Had they listened without speech they might have heard the heavy breathing of the very man of whom they spoke, might have heard the sharp click of the lock of his long rifle as he brought its hammer to full c.o.c.k. Had they turned about they might have seen the blue glint of the day's last light upon that rifle's barrel, which was levelled straight at Layson's heart. But they saw none of these things nor heard a sound.
"Who does he think betrayed him?" Layson asked, with deep interest, but no trace of guilty knowledge, thrilling in his voice.
Madge hesitated. Then she blurted out the truth. "Who?" she repeated, "Why--why you! _YOU_--YOU!"
The rifle barrel steadied to its mark, the finger curled to press upon the trigger.
"Why, Madge," said Layson, earnestly, "I didn't even know he had a still! I swear it!"
There was an honest ring in the youth's voice which could not be mistaken.
"I knowed it warn't your doin'," the girl said with a great sigh of relief.
And as she spoke the rifle barrel slowly fell.
"I knowed it warn't your doin', but Joe'll never believe it. Night an'
day you'll have to be close on your guard. There's no tellin' what minute your life may be in danger."
"I don't believe it of Joe Lorey," Layson answered earnestly. "We fought, and he fought fair."
After they had gone, Joe crept out from his hiding place among the shrubbery and looked after them with puzzled, pain-filled eyes, like a great animal's.
"If they'd only knowed that I war standin' in th' shadder there!" he mused. "If he hadn't spoke them words I'd pulled th' trigger, but he spoke up like as ef 't war true an' I jest couldn't do it."
A cautious footstep on the close-knit sward, which would have been inaudible to any ear less keen than his, attracted his attention, suddenly, and he slipped back to his leafy hiding-place. Peering from the covert he saw Holton coming. The man was furtive, apprehensive in his every movement, suspicion breeding. When Joe stepped out from his thicket boldly, to confront him, the ex-slave-dealer fell back, frightened.
"h.e.l.lo, sir," was Joe's laconic greeting.
"Joe Lorey!" exclaimed Holton.
"That's me," Joe boldly granted. He peered at him so closely that Holton shrank away from him, involuntarily. "And you--why you're the man as gin th' word that Frank Layson had warned th' revenooers of my still."
"I told ye for yer good," said Holton, clearly recognizing that his position was unfortunate. "An' recollect you promised not to tell anyone my name."
Joe nodded gravely. "While I believe ye told th' truth I'll keep my word," he answered. "But I wants to tell you that I heered Frank Layson deny it, hyar, to-night, an' it sounded like he war speakin' th' plain truth. See hyar, sir, you nearly egged me on to doin' murder." He reached forward and seized Holton by the shoulder roughly, with a grasp so powerful that the old man, though he was of st.u.r.dy frame and mighty muscle, knew that he was helpless in the grip. "Now look me in th' face.
Tell me as you vally your own life--war it truth or lies, you told me?"
"It war th' truth," said Holton, doggedly; "th' truth an' nothin' else."
Joe shook his head incredulously. "I'd like better proof nor your word, stranger, for, some way, your voice it don't ring true, nor yer eye look honest."
"I'll gin ye th' proof," said Holton desperately. "Ye know that I war never near yer still. Layson told me it war in th' wall of a ravine--Hangin' Rock Ravine--an' a big oak stood in front of it an' hid the mouth o' th' cave. Thar, do ye believe me, now?"
Joe nodded, slowly, thoughtfully. "No man as lived up in th' mountings would have told ye." He considered ponderously for a moment. "Yes, I reckon that I'll have to take yer word. 'T was him as done it."
"Of course it war," said Holton, and then, perhaps, a bit too eagerly: "an' you'll make him pay for it?"
"Yes," said Joe, "but I've another score to settle, first, another man to find--Lem Lindsay."
Holton was plainly startled, although Joe could not guess just why he should be. "Lem Lindsay!" he exclaimed.
"Yes; the man as murdered my father. I've had word of him, at last. I've heard as how he war seen, years ago, in New Orleans--he war a n.i.g.g.e.r-trader, then--an' that he's come up in th' bluegra.s.s country, since, like enough under another name." He looked at Holton eagerly. "I say, sir, you don't know a man like that, do you?"
Holton spoke a little hurriedly. "No, no; there ain't no man like that in these parts."
"It don't make no differ whar he bides," said Joe. "Soon or late our paths'll cross an' bring us face to face. When he struck down my father it war sealed and signed above that he war to fall by my hand; an'
there's a feelin' in my heart that that hour air drawin' nigh." He nodded and then turned away. "Good-night, stranger."
Holton was thoroughly alarmed. Many things distressed him. He could plainly see that his daughter's love-affair with Layson had gone wrong, he realized that there was little chance that he could buy Madge Brierly's coal lands at anything but a fair value, and now--to fall by his hand!
"I'll make that false," he muttered, "Why, I've got to do it!"
He moved away among the trees, but stopped in frequent thought as he progressed.
"They'll lay the crime on Lorey," he reflected, after he had laid his plan. "They'll hunt him down and lynch him and I shall be safe.
Layson'll be ruined, he'll have to sell Woodlawn, and my gal'll be th'
missus there, in spite of him. I've got to do it."
Like a shadow of the night he hurried through the grounds until he reached the stable where Queen Bess was thought to be secure.