CHAPTER XXIIIPECULIAR PEOPLE
Old Swallowtail came home at about four o'clock in the afternoon. Theday was hot, yet the old man seemed neither heated nor wearied. Withouta word to his daughter or Ingua he drew a chair to the little shadyporch and sat down in their company. Nan was mending her child's oldfrock; Ingua sat thinking.
For half an hour, perhaps, silence was maintained by all. Then Nanturned and asked:
"Have you covered your tracks?"
He turned his glassy, expressionless eyes toward her.
"My tracks, as you call them," said he, "have been laid for forty yearsor more. They are now ruts. I cannot obliterate them in a day."
The woman studied his face thoughtfully.
"You are not worrying over your probable arrest?"
"No."
"Then it's all right," said she, relieved. "You're a foxy old rascal,Dad, and you've held your own for a good many years. I guess you don'tneed more than a word of warning."
He made no reply, his eyes wandering along the path to the bridge. MaryLouise was coming their way, walking briskly. Her steps slowed a bit asshe drew nearer, but she said in an eager voice:
"Oh, Mrs. Scammel, Josie has told me you are here and who you are.Isn't it queer how lives get tangled up? But I remember you withgratitude and kindliest thoughts, because you were so considerate of mydear Gran'pa Jim. And to think that you are really Ingua's mother!"
Nan rose and took the girl's hands in her own.
"I fear I've been a bad mother to my kid," she replied, "but I thoughtshe was all right with her grandfather and happy here. I shall lookafter her better in the future."
Mary Louise bowed to Mr. Cragg, who nodded his head in acknowledgment.Then she sat down beside Ingua.
"Are you plannin' to take me away from here, Mama?" asked the child.
"Wouldn't you rather be with me than with your grandfather?" returnedNan with a smile.
"I dunno," said Ingua seriously. "You're a detective, an' I don't likedetections. You ain't much like a mother to me, neither, ner I don'tknow much about you. I dunno yet whether I'm goin' to like you or not."
A wave of color swept over Nan's face; Mary Louise was shocked; the oldman turned his inscrutable gaze down the path once more.
"I like it here," continued the child, musingly: "Gran'dad makes mework, but he don't bother me none 'cept when the devils get, hold o'him. I 'member that you git the devils, too, once in awhile, Marm, an'they're about as fierce as Gran'dad's is. An' I gets 'em 'cause I'm aCragg like the rest o' you, an' devils seem to be in the Cragg blood.I've a notion it's easier to stand the devils in the country here, thanin the city where you live."
Nan didn't know whether to be amused or angry.
"Yet you tried to run away once," she reminded Ingua, "and it was MaryLouise who stopped you. You told me of this only an hour ago.
"Didn't I say the devils pick on _me_ sometimes?" demanded the girl."An' Mary Louise was right. She fought the devils for me, and I'm gladshe did, 'cause I've had a good time with her ever since," and shepressed Mary Louise's hand gratefully.
Her child's frankness was indeed humiliating to Nan Scammel, who was byno means a bad woman at heart and longed to win the love and respect ofher little girl. Ingua's frank speech had also disturbed Mary Louise,and made her sorry for both the child and her mother. Old Swallowtail'seyes lingered a moment on Ingua's ingenuous countenance but heexhibited no emotion whatever.
"You're a simple little innocent," remarked Nan to Ingua, after astrained pause. "You know so little of the world that your judgment iswholly unformed. I've a notion to take you to Washington and buy you anice outfit of clothes--like those of Mary Louise, you know--and putyou into a first-class girls' boarding-school. Then you'll getcivilized, and perhaps amount to something."
"I'd like that," said Ingua, with a first display of enthusiasm; "butwho'd look after Gran'dad?"
"Why, we must provide for Dad in some way, of course," admitted Nanafter another pause. "I can afford to hire a woman to keep house forhim, if I hold my present job. I suppose he has a hoard of money hiddensomewhere, but that's no reason he wouldn't neglect himself and starveif left alone. And, if he's really poor, I'm the one to help him. Howdoes that arrangement strike you, Ingua?"
"It sounds fine," replied the girl, "but any woman that'd come _here_to work, an' would stan' Gran'dad's devils, wouldn't amount to much,nohow. If we're goin' to move to the city," she added with a sigh,"let's take Gran'dad with us."
This conversation was becoming too personal for Mary Louise to endurelonger. They talked of Mr. Cragg just as if he were not present,ignoring him as he ignored them. With an embarrassed air Mary Louiserose.
"I must go now," said she. "I just ran over to welcome you, Mrs.Scammel, and to ask you and Ingua to dine with us to-morrow night. Willyou come? Josie O'Gorman is with us, you know, and I believe you areold friends."
Nan hesitated a moment.
"Thank you," she replied, "we'll be glad to come. You've been mightygood to my little girl and I am grateful. Please give my regards toColonel Hathaway."
When Mary Louise had gone the three lapsed into silence again. Inguawas considering, in her childish but practical way, the proposedchanges in her life. The mother was trying to conquer her annoyance atthe child's lack of filial affection, tacitly admitting that the blamewas not Ingua's. The old man stared at the path. Whatever his thoughtsmight be he displayed no hint of their nature.
Presently there appeared at the head of the path, by the bridge, theform of a stranger, a little man who came on with nervous, mincingsteps. He was dressed in dandified fashion, with tall silk hat, agold-headed cane and yellow kid gloves. Almost had he reached theporch when suddenly he stopped short, looked around in surprise andejaculated:
"Bless me--bless me! I--I've made a mistake. This is a private path toyour house. No thoroughfare. Dear me, what an error; an unpardonableerror. I hope you will excuse me--I--I hope so!"
"To be sure we will," replied Nan with a laugh, curiously eyeing thedapper little man. "The only way out, sir, is back by the bridge."
"Thank you. Thank you very much," he said earnestly. "I--I am indulgingin a stroll and--and my mind wandered, as did my feet. I--I am aninvalid in search of rest. Thank you. Good afternoon."
He turned around and with the same mincing, regular steps retreatedalong the path. At the bridge he halted as if undecided, but finallycontinued along the country road past the Kenton Place.
Ingua laughed delightedly at the queer man. Nan smiled. Old Swallowtailhad altered neither his position nor his blank expression.
"He's a queer fish, ain't he?" remarked the girl. "He's pretty livelyfor an invalid what's lookin' for rest. I wonder when he landed, an'where he's stoppin'."
Something in the child's remark made Nan thoughtful. Presently she laiddown her work and said:
"I believe I'll take a little walk, myself, before dark. Want to goalong, Ingua?"
Ingua was ready. She had on her new dress and hoped they might meetsomeone whom she knew. They wandered toward the town, where most of theinhabitants were sitting outf of doors--a Sunday afternoon custom. JimBennett, in his shirtsleeves, was reading a newspaper in front of thepostoffice; Sol Jerrems and his entire family occupied the platformbefore the store, which was of course locked; Nance Milliker wasplaying the organ in the brown house around the corner, and in front ofthe hotel sat Mary Ann Hopper in her rocking-chair.
Nan strolled the length of the street, startling those natives who hadformerly known her, Ingua nodded and smiled at everyone. Mary AnnHopper called, as they passed her: "Hullo, Ingua. Where'd ye git thenew duds?"
"Miss Huckins made 'em," answered Ingua proudly.
"I guess I'll go and shake hands with Mrs. Hopper," said Nan. "Don'tyou remember me, Mary Ann? I'm Nan Cragg."
"Gee! so y'are," exclaimed Mary Ann wonderingly. "We all 'spicioned youwas dead, long ago."
"I'm home for a visit. You folks seem prosperous. How's business?"
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"Pretty good. We got a new boarder to-day, a feller with bum nerves whocome from the city. Gee! but he's togged out t' kill. Got money, too,an' ain't afraid to spend it. He paid Dad in advance."
"That's nice," said Nan. "What's his name?"
"It's a funny name, but I can't remember it. Ye kin see it on theregister."
Nan went inside, leaving Ingua with Mary Ann, and studied the name onthe register long and closely.
"No," she finally decided, "Lysander isn't calculated to arousesuspicion. He wears a wig, I know, but that is doubtless due to vanityand not a disguise. I at first imagined it was someone O'Gorman hadsent down here to help Josie, but none of our boys would undertake sucha spectacular personation, bound to attract attention. This fellow willbecome the laughing-stock of the whole town and every move he makeswill be observed. I'm quite sure there is nothing dangerous in theappearance here of Mr. Lysander Antonius Sinclair."
She chatted a few minutes with Mrs. Hopper, whom she found in thekitchen, and then she rejoined Ingua and started homeward. Scarcelywere mother and child out of sight when Mr. Sinclair came mincing alongfrom an opposite direction and entered the hotel. He went to his roombut soon came down and in a querulous voice demanded his omelet,thanking the landlady again and again for promising it in ten minutes.
He amused them all very much, stating that an omelet for an eveningmeal was "an effective corrective of tired nerves" and would enable himto sleep soundly all night.
"I sleep a great deal," he announced after he had finished his supperand joined Mr. Hopper on the porch. "When I have smoked a cigar--inwhich luxury I hope you will join me, sir--I shall retire to my couchand rest in the arms of Morpheus until the brilliant sun of another dayfloods the countryside."
"P'r'aps it'll rain," suggested the landlord.
"Then Nature's tears will render us sweetly sympathetic."
He offered his cigar case to Mr. Hopper, who recognized a high pricedcigar and helped himself.
"Didn't see anything to make ye nervous, durin' yer walk, did ye?" heinquired, lighting the weed.
"Very little. It seems a nice, quiet place. Only once was I annoyed. Istumbled into a private path, just before I reached the river, and--andhad to apologize."
"Must 'a' struck Ol' Swallertail's place," remarked the landlord.
"Old Swallowtail? Old Swallowtail? And who is he?" queried thestranger.
Hopper was a born gossip, and if there was any one person he loved totalk of and criticize and "pick to pieces" it was Old Swallowtail. Sohe rambled on for a half hour, relating the Cragg history in all itsdetails, including the story of Ingua and Ingua's mother, Nan Cragg,who had married some unknown chap named Scammel, who did not longsurvive the ceremony.
Mr. Sinclair listened quietly, seeming to enjoy his cigar more than hedid the Cragg gossip. He asked no questions, letting the landlordramble on as he would, and finally, when Hopper had exhausted his fundof fact and fiction, which were about evenly mixed, his guest bade himgood night and retired to his private room.
"It ain't eight o'clock, yet," said the landlord to his wife, "but afeller with nerves is best asleep. An' when he's asleep he won't wasteour kerosene."
No, Mr. Sinclair didn't waste the Hopper kerosene. He had a littlepocket arrangement which supplied him with light when, an hour beforemidnight, he silently rose, dressed himself and prepared to leave thehotel. He was not attired in what Mary Ann called his "glad rags" now,but in a dark gray suit of homespun that was nearly the color of thenight. The blond wig was carefully locked in a suit case, a small blackcap was drawn over his eyes, and thus--completely transformed--Mr.Hopper's guest had no difficulty in gaining the street without aparticle of noise betraying him to the family of his host.
He went to the postoffice, pried open a window, unlocked the mail bagthat was ready for Jim Bennett to carry to the morning train atChargrove and from it abstracted a number of letters which he unsealedand read with great care. They had all been written and posted byHezekiah Cragg. The man spent a couple of hours here, resealing theenvelopes neatly and restoring them to the mail bag, after which, heattached the padlock and replaced the bag in exactly its formerposition. When he had left the little front room which was devoted bythe Bennetts to the mail service, the only evidence of his visit was abruised depression beside the window-sash which was quite likely toescape detection.
After this the stranger crept through the town and set off at a briskpace toward the west, taking the road over the bridge and following itto the connecting branch and thence to the lane. A half hour later hewas standing in old Cragg's stone lot and another hour was consumedamong the huge stones by the hillside--the place where Josie haddiscovered the entrance to the underground cave. Mr. Sinclair did notdiscover the entrance, however, so finally he returned to town andmounted the stairs beside Sol Jerrem's store building to the upperhallway.
In five minutes he was inside of Cragg's outer office; in another fiveminutes he had entered the inner office. There he remained until theunmistakable herald of dawn warned him to be going. However, when heleft the building there was no visible evidence of his visit. He was inhis own room and in bed long before Mrs. Hopper gave a final snore andwakened to light the kitchen fire and prepare for the duties of theday.