CHAPTER XLI.
THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I gothim up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island huntingyesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and aboutmidnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shothim in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not saynothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come homethis evening and surprise the folks.
"Who is your folks?" he says.
"The Phelpses, down yonder."
"Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says:
"How'd you say he got shot?"
"He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him."
"Singular dream," he says.
So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. Butwhen he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her--said she was bigenough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two. I says:
"Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easyenough."
"What three?"
"Why, me and Sid, and--and--and THE GUNS; that's what I mean."
"Oh," he says.
But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, andsaid he reckoned he'd look around for a bigger one. But they was alllocked and chained; so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait till hecome back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better go down homeand get them ready for the surprise if I wanted to. But I said I didn't;so I told him just how to find the raft, and then he started.
I struck an idea pretty soon. I says to myself, spos'n he can't fix thatleg just in three shakes of a sheep's tail, as the saying is? spos'n ittakes him three or four days? What are we going to do?--lay around theretill he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir; I know what I'LL do. I'llwait, and when he comes back if he says he's got to go any more I'll getdown there, too, if I swim; and we'll take and tie him, and keep him, andshove out down the river; and when Tom's done with him we'll give himwhat it's worth, or all we got, and then let him get ashore.
So then I crept into a lumber-pile to get some sleep; and next time Iwaked up the sun was away up over my head! I shot out and went for thedoctor's house, but they told me he'd gone away in the night some time orother, and warn't back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad forTom, and I'll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, andturned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas's stomach!He says:
"Why, TOM! Where you been all this time, you rascal?"
"I hain't been nowheres," I says, "only just hunting for the runawaynigger--me and Sid."
"Why, where ever did you go?" he says. "Your aunt's been mighty uneasy."
"She needn't," I says, "because we was all right. We followed the menand the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them; but we thought weheard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them andcrossed over, but couldn't find nothing of them; so we cruised alongup-shore till we got kind of tired and beat out; and tied up the canoeand went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago; then wepaddled over here to hear the news, and Sid's at the post-office to seewhat he can hear, and I'm a-branching out to get something to eat for us,and then we're going home."
So then we went to the post-office to get "Sid"; but just as Isuspicioned, he warn't there; so the old man he got a letter out of theoffice, and we waited awhile longer, but Sid didn't come; so the old mansaid, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got donefooling around--but we would ride. I couldn't get him to let me stay andwait for Sid; and he said there warn't no use in it, and I must comealong, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right.
When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and criedboth, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that don'tamount to shucks, and said she'd serve Sid the same when he come.
And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers' wives, to dinner; andsuch another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the worst;her tongue was a-going all the time. She says:
"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked that-air cabin over, an' I b'lievethe nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrell--didn't I, SisterDamrell?--s'I, he's crazy, s'I--them's the very words I said. You allhearn me: he's crazy, s'I; everything shows it, s'I. Look at that-airgrindstone, s'I; want to tell ME't any cretur 't's in his right mind 's agoin' to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s'I? Heresich 'n' sich a person busted his heart; 'n' here so 'n' so pegged alongfor thirty-seven year, 'n' all that--natcherl son o' Louis somebody, 'n'sich everlast'n rubbage. He's plumb crazy, s'I; it's what I says in thefust place, it's what I says in the middle, 'n' it's what I says last 'n'all the time--the nigger's crazy--crazy 's Nebokoodneezer, s'I."
"An' look at that-air ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says oldMrs. Damrell; "what in the name o' goodness COULD he ever want of--"
"The very words I was a-sayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to SisterUtterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air ragladder, sh-she; 'n' s'I, yes, LOOK at it, s'I--what COULD he a-wanted ofit, s'I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she--"
"But how in the nation'd they ever GIT that grindstone IN there, ANYWAY?'n' who dug that-air HOLE? 'n' who--"
"My very WORDS, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin'--pass that-air sasser o'm'lasses, won't ye?--I was a-sayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute,how DID they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without HELP, mind you--'thout HELP! THAT'S wher 'tis. Don't tell ME, s'I; there WUZ help,s'I; 'n' ther' wuz a PLENTY help, too, s'I; ther's ben a DOZEN a-helpin'that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place but I'Dfind out who done it, s'I; 'n' moreover, s'I--"
"A DOZEN says you!--FORTY couldn't a done every thing that's been done.Look at them case-knife saws and things, how tedious they've been made;look at that bed-leg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for six men; lookat that nigger made out'n straw on the bed; and look at--"
"You may WELL say it, Brer Hightower! It's jist as I was a-sayin' toBrer Phelps, his own self. S'e, what do YOU think of it, SisterHotchkiss, s'e? Think o' what, Brer Phelps, s'I? Think o' that bed-legsawed off that a way, s'e? THINK of it, s'I? I lay it never sawedITSELF off, s'I--somebody SAWED it, s'I; that's my opinion, take it orleave it, it mayn't be no 'count, s'I, but sich as 't is, it's myopinion, s'I, 'n' if any body k'n start a better one, s'I, let him DO it,s'I, that's all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s'I--"
"Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a house-full o' niggers in there everynight for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look atthat shirt--every last inch of it kivered over with secret African writ'ndone with blood! Must a ben a raft uv 'm at it right along, all thetime, amost. Why, I'd give two dollars to have it read to me; 'n' as forthe niggers that wrote it, I 'low I'd take 'n' lash 'm t'll--"
"People to HELP him, Brother Marples! Well, I reckon you'd THINK so ifyou'd a been in this house for a while back. Why, they've stoleeverything they could lay their hands on--and we a-watching all the time,mind you. They stole that shirt right off o' the line! and as for thatsheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther' ain't no telling how manytimes they DIDN'T steal that; and flour, and candles, and candlesticks,and spoons, and the old warming-pan, and most a thousand things that Idisremember now, and my new calico dress; and me and Silas and my Sid andTom on the constant watch day AND night, as I was a-telling you, and nota one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight nor sound of them; andhere at the last minute, lo and behold you, they slides right in underour noses and fools us, and not only fools US but the Injun Territoryrobbers too, and actuly gets AWAY with that nigger safe and sound, andthat with sixteen men and twenty-two dogs right on their very heels atthat very time! I tell you, it just bangs anything I ever HEARD of.Why, SPERITS couldn't a done better and been no smarter. And I reckonthey must a BEEN sperits--because, YOU know our dogs, and ther' ain't nobetter; well, them dogs never even got on the TRACK of 'm once! Youe
xplain THAT to me if you can!--ANY of you!"
"Well, it does beat--"
"Laws alive, I never--"
"So help me, I wouldn't a be--"
"HOUSE-thieves as well as--"
"Goodnessgracioussakes, I'd a ben afeard to live in sich a--"
"'Fraid to LIVE!--why, I was that scared I dasn't hardly go to bed, orget up, or lay down, or SET down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they'd steal thevery--why, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I wasin by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn'tafraid they'd steal some o' the family! I was just to that pass I didn'thave no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough NOW, in thedaytime; but I says to myself, there's my two poor boys asleep, 'way upstairs in that lonesome room, and I declare to goodness I was that uneasy't I crep' up there and locked 'em in! I DID. And anybody would.Because, you know, when you get scared that way, and it keeps running on,and getting worse and worse all the time, and your wits gets to addling,and you get to doing all sorts o' wild things, and by and by you think toyourself, spos'n I was a boy, and was away up there, and the door ain'tlocked, and you--" She stopped, looking kind of wondering, and then sheturned her head around slow, and when her eye lit on me--I got up andtook a walk.
Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that roomthis morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. So Idone it. But I dasn't go fur, or she'd a sent for me. And when it waslate in the day the people all went, and then I come in and told her thenoise and shooting waked up me and "Sid," and the door was locked, and wewanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightning-rod, and both of usgot hurt a little, and we didn't never want to try THAT no more. Andthen I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas before; and thenshe said she'd forgive us, and maybe it was all right enough anyway, andabout what a body might expect of boys, for all boys was a prettyharum-scarum lot as fur as she could see; and so, as long as no harmhadn't come of it, she judged she better put in her time being gratefulwe was alive and well and she had us still, stead of fretting over whatwas past and done. So then she kissed me, and patted me on the head, anddropped into a kind of a brown study; and pretty soon jumps up, and says:
"Why, lawsamercy, it's most night, and Sid not come yet! What HAS becomeof that boy?"
I see my chance; so I skips up and says:
"I'll run right up to town and get him," I says.
"No you won't," she says. "You'll stay right wher' you are; ONE'S enoughto be lost at a time. If he ain't here to supper, your uncle 'll go."
Well, he warn't there to supper; so right after supper uncle went.
He come back about ten a little bit uneasy; hadn't run across Tom'strack. Aunt Sally was a good DEAL uneasy; but Uncle Silas he said therewarn't no occasion to be--boys will be boys, he said, and you'll see thisone turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had to besatisfied. But she said she'd set up for him a while anyway, and keep alight burning so he could see it.
And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched hercandle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like Icouldn't look her in the face; and she set down on the bed and talkedwith me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn'tseem to want to ever stop talking about him; and kept asking me every nowand then if I reckoned he could a got lost, or hurt, or maybe drownded,and might be laying at this minute somewheres suffering or dead, and shenot by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down silent, and Iwould tell her that Sid was all right, and would be home in the morning,sure; and she would squeeze my hand, or maybe kiss me, and tell me to sayit again, and keep on saying it, because it done her good, and she was inso much trouble. And when she was going away she looked down in my eyesso steady and gentle, and says:
"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and therod; but you'll be good, WON'T you? And you won't go? For MY sake."
Laws knows I WANTED to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was allintending to go; but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms.
But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless.And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped aroundfront, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with hereyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could dosomething for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never donothing to grieve her any more. And the third time I waked up at dawn,and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, andher old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep.