CHAPTER XXXI
I RUN ACROSS ERIC
I slept three hours, the dead sleep of sheer exhaustion, but feltrefreshed and strong when roughly aroused. Before sunset I was across theriver, where I found my little squad of Dragoons prepared for theirnight's adventure. Arnold had kept his word, the fresh horses being fineanimals, the ammunition in excess of our needs. Conroy was enthusiastic,and somewhat loquacious, but I cut his conversation off rather sharply,and ordered the men into their saddles. With brain clarified by sleep Irealized the importance of the work before us, and how imperfect my planswere. I could merely ride forth to Elmhurst, hoping to pick up some clewto aid me. As we rode rapidly along the deserted road leading to Farrel'sI reviewed over and over again every remembered detail, only to concludethat I must get hands on Grant, and by threats, or any other availablemeans, compel him to confess his part in the villainy. Dusk settled aboutus, succeeded by night, as we pressed steadily forward, the men ridingsilently, the only sound the thud of hoofs, and the slight jingle ofaccoutrements. As we passed the black walls of Farrell's shop, I recalledthe papers found in Grant's coat, and the reference in Fagin's note to arendezvous at Lone Tree. Probably that was the spot where the two hadbeen accustomed to meeting. If true in the past, why not now as well?Suddenly it occurred to me that it was at a place called Lone Tree thatthe minute men had gathered for their attack on Delavan's wagon train.Could this, by any possibility, be the same spot? I drew my horse backbeside Conroy.
"Ever heard of a place called Lone Tree?" I asked quietly.
He rubbed his head thoughtfully.
"Not just about here, sir. We camped over east of there once, maybe ayear ago, down in a hollow where there was one big tree standin' allalone, kind of an odd lookin' tree, sir, and seems to me, the guide saidthe place was called something like that. Say, Tom," to the nearestDragoon, "do you remember that Lone Tree where we camped when we were outhuntin' Tarleton?"
"Sure; in east of Medford. There was a farmhouse across on the side of ahill. I got some buttermilk there."
"Wasn't that what the guide called the place--Lone Tree?"
"Derned if I know, Sergeant. Don't recollect hearin' the guide sayanythin' 'bout that, but the woman at the house told me her place wascalled Lone Tree Cottage--so I reckon he might."
This was a chance worth trying, and would require a detour of but a fewmiles. My decision was made quickly.
"We will take the first turn to the left, and have a look at the place,"I said. "Conroy, you and Tom ride ahead, and keep your eyes open."
We reached the hollow where the big tree stood, about midnight, but foundlittle reward. The house on the hill had been burned to the ground. Nearthe tree, however, we discovered evidence of recent camp-fires, one notyet cold, and apparently there had been quite a body of men camped therelately. Conroy manufactured a torch, and scouted about, finallyreporting:
"I don't know how many were here, sir, altogether, but there was a lot o'horses picketed over near the creek. I reckon the last of them didn'tleave until dark to-night, an' they rode north toward the main road.There was maybe a dozen in that party."
We followed the general direction the fellows seemed to have taken,Conroy and I on foot, scanning the trail by aid of a pine knot. The dustlay thick on the clay road through the cut, where we had charged theforagers, and it was easy to see the band had turned east. There was butone conclusion possible; if this was Fagin's gang of cutthroats, as Isuspected, then they were either returning to their sand caves inMonmouth County after a raid, or else were starting forth on some newproject near at hand. Whichever was true, Elmhurst lay in the directiontaken. Determined to learn the truth, and wishing now I had more men atmy back, we pressed forward, riding rapidly, yet exercising theprecaution of keeping two scouts well in advance. It must have beennearly three o'clock when we reached the summit of the low hill within afew hundred yards of the house, and found the two scouts awaiting us.
My first glance across the ravine revealed the outlines of the houseabove the low trees of the orchard. All appeared peaceable enough, and Ifelt a sudden relief. There were lights burning on the lower floor,streaming through several windows, while up stairs one window was ablaze.Late as it was, this illumination was not surprising, however, as thecare of the wounded man would necessitate night watchers, while, nodoubt, Claire would anticipate my reaching there before morning. All thisflashed over me, as my eyes hastily surveyed the familiar surroundings.Then I became aware that the older scout was reporting.
"There's quite a bunch of horses picketed down there in the ravine, sir,"he said, pointing toward the right.
"How many?"
"Oh, maybe twenty-five or thirty; Joe an' I couldn't get very close asthere's a couple of men on guard on top of the bank. A hundred feet downyou can see 'em plain against the sky."
"Wasn't what you saw a cattle herd?"
"No, sir," positively. "They're horses, picketed in line like a cavalrytroop, and they've got their saddles on."
What this all meant could not be guessed at, but there must be somescheme of deviltry under way. There were no regular troops hereaboutbelonging to either army, yet the very condition of the country left anopen field for the operation of outlaws. Arnold had barely men enough togarrison Philadelphia; Washington was facing Clinton; the militia hadbeen withdrawn, and all this section left entirely unguarded. It was thevery moment for Fagin and his kind to carry on their work of murder andpillage.
"Have either of you crossed the ravine?" I asked, endeavoring to reachsome conclusion.
"Yes, sir, Joe did. He was up in the edge of the orchard."
"See any men?"
"Not a man, sir, outside," answered the other. "But I saw shadows againstthe curtains on that lower floor. I couldn't tell how many; they justcome an' go, only they wasn't dressed alike."
One thing was sufficiently certain--we could gain little informationremaining where we were.
"Sergeant," I said, determining swiftly on a course of action, "take yourmen, dismounted, across the ravine, and into the orchard. Keep undercover, but get as close to the house as you can safely. Picket yourhorses back there beside the road."
"And you, sir?"
"I'll take Tom with me, and we'll circle that horse herd, and come up tothe house from the rear. I want to discover where those fellows are, andwhat they are up to. See this whistle, sergeant?"
"Yes, sir."
"It gives a sharp, shrill blast. If I blow it twice, get your men insidethe house instantly. I'll not sound it unless I need you at once. We'llwait here until you get across."
They disappeared into the black depths of the ravine, moving cautiouslyand with little noise, Conroy leading, the others stringing along behindin single file. Tom led back the horses while I watched, until convincedthey had attained the opposite bank, and the shelter of the orchard.There was no sound of movement anywhere, yet it was not long untildaybreak, and any further delay was dangerous. As soon as the Dragoonreturned, I gave him a few words of instruction, and the two of usplunged down the steep slope, feeling our way through the darkness, butmoving to the right, toward where the scouts had indicated the horseswere being herded. We skirted these, creeping along the opposite bankbehind a fringe of bushes, certain that the darkness concealed ourmovements from the two men on guard. Fearful of frightening the animalswe dare not approach close enough to count them, but they stood head tohead to a picket rope nearly across the narrow ravine. We crossed fiftyfeet above, gained the top of the bank, and crawled down, sheltered fromobservation, until we were directly above the two guards. Peeringcautiously over we could easily distinguish the black outlines on thehillside below.
One man was standing up, leaning against the trunk of a small tree, whilethe other was sitting on the ground, his head bent forward, and his hatdrawn low over his eyes. Neither uttered a sound, but as my eyes strainedthrough the darkness I began to perceive details which awakened a newsuspicion. The fellow standing up wore a cap and no coat, and his handswe
re clasped about a short, sawed-off gun. He had none of the appearanceof a soldier, but the other man apparently was in uniform, although Icould not distinguish its character. What instantly attracted myattention was the fact that his hands were evidently tied behind hisback. If this was true then he was a prisoner, and the other had beenstationed there to guard him, and not the horses. Tom perceived this assoon as I, for I felt his fingers grip my arm, and, when I glanced aroundat him, he pictured his suspicions in pantomime. I nodded agreement,sinking down behind the ridge, until my lips were at his ear.
"Creep around the edge of the rock there," I said, pointing. "That willbring you at his back, and not more than five feet away. Can you do it?"
He nodded grimly.
"Leave your weapons here," I added, "and when you spring, get hold of hisgun so he cannot fire. I'll cover him the instant you strike. Go on."
He unbuckled his belt, and crept along to the right, so noiselessly thateven I, watching his snake-like movement, could hear no sound. The guarddid not move his head, and the other remained motionless, his face bentalmost to his knees. Down below the horses stomped restlessly, andswitched their tails. Watching each motion like a hawk, I saw Tom dipover the crest, and worm his way down behind the rock. Then hedisappeared, until, as he cautiously arose to his feet, his head andshoulders emerged shadowy just beyond. Realizing he was ready, I got tomy knees, gripping a pistol butt. Without a warning sound the Dragoonleaped, his arms gripping the astounded sentinel with the hug of a bear.He gave utterance to one grunt, and then the barrel of my pistol was athis head.
"Not a word!" I said sternly. "Unclasp his belt, Tom. Yes, take his gun.If he moves, or utters a sound, shoot him down."
I wheeled to face the other, who had lifted his head, and was staring atus through the darkness. He was no longer a mere shapeless shadow, but aslender, straight figure, and my heart gave a sudden throb.
"Who are you?" I asked sharply. "Eric Mortimer?"
"Yes," he answered, in evident surprise. "Do I know you?"
"No," and I cut the rope binding his ankles. "But I was searching foryou. I am an officer of Maxwell's brigade; my name is Lawrence. Tell mefirst what has happened,--why you are being held prisoner."
He stretched his cramped arms and legs, lifting his hat so that I saw hisface dimly. In the gloom his resemblance to Claire was so remarkable thatI involuntarily exclaimed:
"Heavens! but you look like your sister!"
"Like Claire! they all say so; you know her?"
"It is at her request I am here; you need not fear to tell me yourstory."
"Oh, I do not. I can see your uniform. But damn it, I don't know any toomuch about what is up myself. This is Red Fagin's outfit."
"I thought so. Where did he get you? How long have you been a prisoner?"
The boy laughed recklessly, his eyes upon the others.
"Well, my story is a short one, Lawrence. I had a fellow in the Britishservice who occasionally gave me information. Word came to me to meet himat a certain spot--"
"You mean Captain Grant?"
"Hell! How did you know that?"
"Never mind; I do know--so you can go on."
He hesitated, as though suspicious of me, yet finally resumed.
"I had no intention of speaking names."
"Oh, let that pass. You may think Grant all right, but the rest of usknow he is at the bottom of the whole matter."
"You mean he betrayed me?"
"There is no doubt of it. He is in with Fagin."
The lad drew a long breath.
"I half suspected it," he said slowly, "only it didn't seem possible. Nowlisten, and perhaps together we can make something out of all this. Iwent to the place where we were to meet, and had a talk with Grant--yes,it was Grant all right. He told me some things, but needed a day or twoto get other information. While waiting I came over here to Elmhurst, andfound Claire. She's the kind of a girl you can tell things to, and Iwrote out what I had learned, and left some of my papers. Then I wentback to Lone Tree. It was dark when I got there, and I rode right intoFagin and three of his men. They had me before I could lift a hand."
"Just wait a minute, Mortimer," I broke in, becoming suddenly aware therewas a grayness in the eastern sky. "I want to creep in toward the housewhile it remains dark. You can tell the rest as we go along. Tom, takethese ropes and tie your man up. Make him safe, and then come along afterus."
"All right, sir. I'll fix the lad so he'll be safe enough for a while."