Jasper bounded to his feet in astonishment. He had shut his eyes,expecting death. His first glance was at the prostrate brigand. He sawthat the wound was made by an arrow, which had penetrated the region ofthe heart. But who had sped the shaft? And was he also in danger? Thequestion was soon answered.
Out from the underbrush emerged three figures. The foremost was theIndian maiden, Monima. Following her were two men of the same tribe. Itwas one of these who had shot at Jack.
"Is white boy hurt?" asked Monima, running to Jasper and surveying himanxiously.
"No," said Jasper. "Thank you, Monima."
"Monima is glad," said the Indian girl, joyfully.
Jack groaned, and Jasper came to his side and addressed himcompassionately, though but a minute before Jack had been about to takehis life. He saw that the blood was gushing forth from his wound.
"Is he badly wounded?" asked Jasper, turning to Monima.
She said something in her native language to the two men.
They spoke briefly, shaking their heads.
"White man will die," she said, interpreting to Jasper.
Our hero was shocked. It was the first time he had ever witnessed aviolent death, and it struck him with horror.
He kneeled by Jack's side. Just then the wounded man opened his eyes.
"Who shot me?" he asked, with difficulty.
"The Indians."
Jack's glance fell upon the two men, and he tried to lift himself up,but the effort caused his wound to bleed more copiously. He burst into avolley of oaths, which in his state shocked Jasper.
"Don't swear," he said. "Would you go into the presence of God with anoath in your mouth?"
Jack's face grew livid with terror.
"Who says I am going to die?" he asked, wildly.
"The Indians say you cannot live," said Jasper, gravely.
"It's a lie!" exclaimed Jack, violently. "I'll live to kill you all!"
As he spoke he plucked the arrow from his breast; but this only hastenedhis death. He fell back exhausted, and in five minutes breathed hislast.
Jasper looked so shocked that the Indian girl said, in a tone ofsurprise:
"Is white boy sorry?"
"Yes," said Jasper.
"What for? He try to kill white boy."
"Yes; but it seems awful to see him killed so suddenly. I wish he couldhave lived long enough to repent."
Monima could not understand this.
"He bad man!" she said, emphatically. "He try to kill white boy. Monimawhite boy's friend."
Jasper took the hand of Monima gratefully and said:
"You have saved me, Monima. But for you he would have killed me."
The Indian girl's eyes lighted up, but she only said:
"Monima is glad."
"How fortunate that I fell in with her," thought Jasper, "and that Imade a friend of her!"
"Where white boy go to-night?" asked Monima.
"I don't know," said Jasper, doubtfully.
"Come to my father's lodge. In the morning Monima will show the way."
"Thank you, Monima," said our hero. "I will go."
He felt that he could not refuse such an offer from one who had renderedhim such a service. Moreover, it relieved him from embarrassment, as hewould not have known otherwise where to pass the night, which was nowclose at hand.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
A STARTLING SUMMONS.
The Indian encampment was only half a mile away. There were assembledabout fifty persons, men, women, and children, lying on the grass aboutthe tents. Monima's favor was sufficient to insure a cordial receptionto Jasper, who was pressed to partake of supper, an offer he was glad toaccept, for it was now seven hours since he had eaten food. After therepast a pipe was offered him, but this he declined, explaining that henever had learned to smoke. On the whole, he enjoyed the adventure,except that he could not help thinking from time to time of his latecompanion, cut off so suddenly. He learned from Monima that her twoattendants had remained behind and buried Jack under the tree where hehad been killed.
At night he slept on skins in one of the tents, and in the morning hewas guided on his way by Monima as far as the road.
The Indian maiden looked sad when they were about to part.
"When will white boy come back?" she said.
"I don't know, Monima. I hope to see you again, some time, but perhapsyou won't remember me."
"Monima never forgets," she answered.
"And I shall not forget."
Attached to his watch was a silver chain which he had bought in St.Louis three months before. He had noticed Momma's look of admirationdirected toward it, and he determined to give it to her. Detaching hiswatch from it, he held it out to the Indian girl.
"Take it, Monima," he said. "It is a gift of friendship."
She uttered a cry of pleasure.
"You give it to Monima?" she said, half incredulous.
"Yes," he said.
"And I have nothing to give white boy," she said, sadly.
"You have given me my life. Is that nothing, Monima? Keep the chain, andwhenever you look at it remember Jasper."
So they parted, and Jasper pursued his journey to Plattville. He reachedthe town without further adventure, and conducted satisfactorily thebusiness with which he was intrusted. He succeeded in obtaining half themoney due his employer, and in making arrangements for the speedypayment of the rest. So it was with a mind well satisfied that hereturned to St. Louis.
When he told Mr. Fitch the particulars of his encounter with Jack, andhis escape, the latter said, earnestly:
"Jasper, you are the bravest boy I know."
"I am afraid you overrate my services," said Jasper, modestly.
"And you really refused to write the letter, though you knew your lifewas in danger?"
"I was not willing to betray my trust."
"I honor your courage and fidelity, but you carried them too far. Wewould far rather have lost ten times seventy-five dollars than riskedyour life."
"I didn't think of that, I only thought it would be wrong to defraudyou."
"We shall not forget your fidelity. You may consider your wages raisedto twenty dollars a week."
"Thank you, sir," said Jasper, gratified.
"It is not merely on account of your courage and fidelity, but partlybecause of the business ability you have shown in carrying on thisaffair."
Again Jasper thanked his employer, and went about his duties with freshcourage, feeling that his services were appreciated.
"I am glad I came to St. Louis," he thought. "How much better I amsituated than I should have been at home, tyrannized over by astep-mother by whom I was disliked."
Three months more passed, when one day a boy entered the store.
"Is Jasper Kent here?" he asked.
"Yes," said Jasper, coming forward, "that is my name."
"I have a telegram for you," said the boy. Jasper tore it open, and readthese words:
"Come home at once. Your step-mother is dying.
"Otis Miller."
Shocked at this startling intelligence, Jasper at once sought hisemployer, obtained leave of absence, and took the next train bound east.
We must precede him and explain what had happened, and what occasionedMrs. Kent's critical condition.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
DICK COMES BACK.
When Mrs. Kent's brother left her house with fifty dollars in his pocketshe warned him that it was the last money he could expect to receivefrom her. He did not reply, but he had no intention of remainingsatisfied with so little.
"What is fifty dollars?" he thought, "to my sister's fortune? Sheneedn't think she has got rid of me so easily."
At that time he expected to make her another visit in the course of amonth or two, but circumstances prevented. The fact is, he was imprudentenough to commit theft and incautious enough to be detected, not longafterward, and the consequence was a term of imprisonment.
When he was rele
ased from confinement he at once made his way to hissister's house.
As before, Nicholas was standing on the lawn. His countenance changedwhen he recognized his uncle, though he didn't know that he had justcome from a prison.
"How are you, Nicholas?" said his uncle.
"I'm well," said his nephew, coldly.
"Really, you have grown a good deal since I saw you."
Even this compliment did not soften Nicholas, who turned his back anddid not invite his uncle into the house.
Dick scowled in an ugly manner but controlled his voice.
"How is your mother?"
"She's got the headache."
"I am sorry. I have been sick, too."
Nicholas did not exhibit the slightest curiosity on the subject.
"I have just come from the hospital," a slight fiction, as we know.
This aroused Nicholas, who retreated a little as he asked:
"Did you have anything catching?"
"No; besides, I'm well now. I should like to see your mother."
"I don't think she feels well enough to see you."
"Will you go up and see? I want to see her on important business."
Nicholas went up stairs grumbling.
"Well, mother," he said, "that disreputable brother of yours has comeagain."
Mrs. Kent's brow contracted.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Down stairs. He wants to see you, he says."
"How does he look?"
"Worse than ever. He says he has just come from a hospital."
"From a hospital? He has a good deal of assurance to come here," saidMrs. Kent, with a hard look.
"So he has."
"I will tell you why," said his mother, in a lower tone. "He has nottold you the truth. He has not come from a hospital, as he represents."
"Why should he say so, then?" asked Nicholas, surprised.
"Because he didn't like to say prison."
"Has he been in prison? How do you know?"
"I saw an account in the papers of his arrest and conviction. I supposehe has just come out of prison."
"Why didn't you tell me of this before, mother?"
"I wanted to keep the disgrace secret, on account of the relationship.When he finds I know it, I shall soon be rid of him."
"Will you see him, then?"
"Yes; I will go down stairs, and you may tell him to come in."
Two minutes later the ex-convict entered his sister's presence. He readno welcome in her face.
"Hang it!" he said, "you don't seem very glad to see your only brother."
"You are right," she said; "I do not seem glad, and I do not feel glad."
His face darkened as he sank heavily into an arm-chair.
"I suppose I'm a poor relation," he said, bitterly. "That's the reason,isn't it?"
"No."
"You'd treat me better if I came here rich and prosperous."
"Probably I would."
"Didn't I say so? You haven't any feelings for the poor."
"I haven't any feeling for criminals," said Mrs. Kent, in a sharp voice.
He uttered a stifled oath and his face flushed.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean that you came here straight from a prison; deny it if you can,"she said, sternly.
He hesitated. Then he said:
"I'm not the only innocent man that's been locked up."
"You can't deceive me," she answered, "though you protest your innocenceall day. I shall not believe you. I feel sure that you were guilty ofthe crime for which you were punished."
"It's rather hard that my own flesh and blood should turn against me."
"You have disgraced the family," said Mrs. Kent. "I discard you. I nolonger look upon you as my brother."
"If you had not turned me off with such a pittance it wouldn't havehappened," he said, sullenly. "Out of your abundance you only gave mefifty dollars."
"And you a stout, broad-shouldered man, must accept charity or steal!"she said, sarcastically.
"Luck has always been against me."
"Your own bad habits have always been against you."
"Look here," said he, doggedly, "I won't stand any more of that, evenfrom my own sister."
"Very well. What have you come here for?"
"I'm out of money."
"And you expect me to supply you?"
"I think you might give me a little, just to get along."
"I shall not give you a cent. You have no claim upon me. I have alreadysaid that I no longer look upon you as a brother."
"Is that all you've got to say?" demanded Dick, his face growing darkwith anger.
"It is my final determination."
"Then all I've got to say is, you'll repent it to the last day of yourlife!" he burst out, furiously. "I'll go away"--here he arose--"but I'llnever forget your cruelty and harshness."
He strode out of the room, and she looked after him coldly.
"It is as well," she said to herself. "Now he understands that there isno more to be got out of me, I hope I shall never lay eyes upon himagain."
"Well," said Nicholas, entering directly afterward, "what have you saidto him? He dashed out of the yard, looking as black as a thunder-cloud."
"I told him that he had disgraced the family and I should never moreacknowledge him as a brother."
"I'm glad you sent him off with a flea in his ear. I don't want to seehim around here again."
"I don't think we shall."
There was one thing Mrs. Kent forgot--her brother's brutal temper andappetite for revenge. Had she thought of this she would, perhaps, havebeen more cautious about provoking him.
* * * * * * * * *
In the middle of the night Mrs. Kent awoke with a strange sense ofoppression, the cause of which she did not immediately understand. Assoon as she recovered her senses she comprehended the occasion--thecrackling flames--and the fearful thought burst upon her:
"The house is on fire!"
She threw on her dress and dashed hastily from the room. She was aboutto seek the quickest mode of exit when she thought of Nicholas. He mightbe asleep, unconscious of his peril. She was a cold and selfish woman,but her one redeeming trait was her affection for her son. She rushedfrantically to his chamber, screaming:
"Nicholas! Wake up! The house is on fire!"
She entered his chamber, but he was not in it. He had already escaped,and, full of selfish thoughts of his own safety, had fled without givingheed to his mother, though there would have been time for him to saveher.
"He is safe!" thought Mrs. Kent, and, relieved of this anxiety, shesought to escape.
But the flames had gained too much headway. Her dress caught fire, andshe ran frantically about, ignorant that in so doing she increased theperil. She was barely conscious of being seized and borne out byfriendly hands. But though the flames were extinguished, she had alreadyreceived fatal injuries. She lingered till the afternoon of thefollowing day, and then died. Meanwhile Mr. Miller sent Jasper thetelegram already referred to.
Nicholas looked serious when he was informed of his mother's death, buthis was not a temperament to be seriously affected by the misfortune ofanother. His own interests were uppermost in his mind.
"Will I get mother's property?" he asked Mr. Miller, while that motherlay dead and disfigured in his presence.
"This is no time to speak of property," said Mr. Miller, coldly. "Youought to think of your poor mother's fate."
"Of course I do," said Nicholas, trying to look sorrowful; "but I wantto know how I'm going to be situated."
"Wait till after the funeral, at any rate," said the other, disgusted.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
HOW IT ALL ENDED.
Jasper did not reach home till after the funeral had taken place and hisstep-mother was buried. Though he had little reason to like her, he wasshocked and distressed by her sad and untimely fate.
"How could the house c
atch fire, Mr. Miller?" he asked.
"It is supposed to have been set on fire."
"Who would do it?"
"From what Nicholas tells me I suspect that the fire was the work ofMrs. Kent's brother."
"Her brother!" exclaimed Jasper. "I met him in the West."
"Then you probably know that he was not a very respectable character."
"I know that he was concerned in kidnapping a child."
"Nicholas tells me that he had just got out of prison, and applied toMrs. Kent for help, which she refused. Incensed at this, he probably setthe house on fire."
"I think he would be capable of doing it. Has he been arrested?"
"Not yet, but the police are on his track. I don't think he can escape."
"Nicholas doesn't seem to take his mother's death very hard."
"No. I am disgusted with his selfishness. He seems to be principallyconcerned about property which she leaves."
"I suppose he will inherit it."
"Yes. I don't know in what state it is, but it ought to amount to thirtythousand dollars. It is a large slice of your father's fortune."
"I do not begrudge it to him. I shall have enough."
"That reminds me that it is time to open the instrument which yourfather left with me."