CHAPTER VI--A FOREST SCRIMMAGE
It was really Miss Sallie Stuart's fault that they were so late instarting the next day to Major Ten Eyck's home.
The automobile had been ordered to be on hand immediately after an earlyluncheon, but another call from one of the town police caused the firstdelay.
The tramps had securely hidden themselves, the officer said, and notrace of them had been found in other towns in that vicinity.
The second delay was caused by a telegram from Miss Stuart's dressmaker,stating that a dress had been expressed to her which would reachTarrytown that morning. Bab and Mollie were also expecting an expresspackage of fresh clothes and their organdie dresses, which they felt,now, they would assuredly need.
Consequently the party waited patiently for these ever-necessaryfeminine adornments, and it was four o'clock before the girls started.
A third delay was caused by the puncture of a tire just as they wereleaving the hotel. Now they were obliged to go to the nearest garage andhave it repaired, which consumed another three quarters of an hour.
However, it was pleasanter riding in the cool of the afternoon, and theystill hoped to reach Ten Eyck Hall long before dark. It was a very gayparty that finally took the road, swathed in chiffon veils and dusters.
"I never felt so much interested in a visit as I do in this one,"remarked Ruth. "Certainly we ought to be glad to get there after allthese mishaps and delays."
Barbara was still in her silent humor. She sat with her small handbagclasped tightly on her knees and looked straight before her, as thoughshe were watching for something.
"Bab, my child, what is it?" asked Ruth. "You have been in a brown studyall day."
"Nothing at all, dear," replied Bab, smiling. "Perhaps this hazinessgoes to my head a little. But I am awfully glad, too, about the visit. Ialways wanted to see an old colonial house, and the only way really isto stay in it. If we have the run of the rooms, and all the halls andgalleries, we can get to know it much more intimately than if we werejust sight-seers being conducted through by an aged housekeeper."
Meanwhile, on the back seat, Miss Sallie was in a reminiscent mood. Itwas very agreeable to her to hark back to the joyous days of her youth,for Miss Stuart had been a belle, and the two girls were listening withpleasure to her accounts of the gallant major, who had been graduatedfrom West Point ahead of time in order to join the army during the CivilWar.
The conversation was interrupted by the sudden stoppage of theautomobile at the crossroads, one of which led straight into the woods,while the other branched off into the open, crossing the now dry bed ofa river spanning which was the new bridge.
"This is the right road, of course," said Ruth, taking the one with thebridge.
"Wait!" cried Barbara. "There's something stretched across the bridge."
Sure enough, a rope blocked all passage over the bridge, which was quitea long one. Secured to the rope with cords was a plank on which waspainted:
"DANGEROUS: TAKE THE OTHER ROAD!"
"The paint on the sign is still sticky," exclaimed Barbara who hadjumped out and run over to take a good look at it. "And the bridge isbroken. There is a large hole, like a gash, on one side, and anotherfurther down."
"How remarkable!" replied Ruth. "It must have happened some time thismorning. I do not suppose Major Ten Eyck knows anything about it, or hewould have let us know. I'll back up, anyway, to the crossroads, and wecan decide what to do. We could go on, I suppose. The major said theother road passed his front gate, but it was a longer one and not suchgood traveling. What do you say, Aunt Sallie? Speak up, girls, are youall agreed?"
Miss Sallie was much troubled. She wanted to go and she did not want togo, and her mind was in a turmoil.
Bab was silent, and Grace and Mollie looked ready for anything.
"Well," said Miss Sallie, after a moment's reflection, "it is verydangerous and very venturesome; but, having got thus far, let us proceedon our way." She folded her hands resignedly, like a martyred saint.
"Then off we go!" cried Ruth. The automobile rolled into the wooded roadthat penetrated a deeper part of the forest.
The dense shade was a relief after the open, dusty country. Tall treesinterlaced their branches overhead and the ground was carpeted with fernand bracken.
But an uneasiness had come upon the automobilists. They did not attemptto explain it, for there was no apparent cause. The road was excellentso far, smooth and level; but something was in the air. Miss Sallie wasthe first to break the silence.
"I am terribly frightened," she admitted, in a low voice. "We must havebeen bewitched to have attempted this ride. Ruth, my dear, I beg of youto turn and go back. I feel that we are running into danger."
Ruth slowed up the machine a little, and called over her shoulder:
"You are right, Aunt Sallie, but I am afraid we can't turn just yet,because there isn't room. Anyway, we may be nearer to the other end ofthe wood by this time."
The car sped on again, only to stop with such a sudden jerk, in the verydepths of the forest, that the machinery ceased to whir and in a momentwas silent.
For a few moments all hands sat perfectly still, dumb with terror andamazement.
Across the road was stretched another rope. There was no sign board onit to tell them there was danger ahead, but the girls needed none. Theyfelt that there was danger ahead, behind, and all around them. They knewthey were in a trap, and that the danger that threatened them would makeitself known all too soon.
Barbara had whispered to Ruth.
"Back up as fast as you can!"
Ruth had replied in another whisper:
"I can't before I crank up."
Regaining her nerve, Ruth was about to leap to the ground when she saw,and the four others saw at the same moment, the figure of a man standingby a tree at the roadside. It would seem that he had been standing thereall along, but so still and motionless that he might been one of thetrees themselves. And for two reasons he was a terrifying spectacle: onebecause his features were entirely concealed by a black mask, the otherbecause he carried in one hand a gleaming and remarkably sharp lookingknife, a kind of dagger, the blade slightly curved and pointed at theend, the silver handle chased all over in an intricate design.
To her dying day Bab would never forget the picture he made.
He wore a dark green velveteen suit, like a huntsman's, and a felt hatwith a hanging brim that covered his head.
"Pardon me, ladies," he said in a curious, false voice, "but I mustrequest you to keep your places."
Ruth, who was poised just over the step, fell back beside Barbara, whohad maintained her position, and sat with blanched cheeks and tightlyclosed lips.
The highwayman then deliberately slashed all four tires with hismurderous looking weapon. At each explosion Miss Sallie gave a stifledgroan.
"Do not cry out, Madam," said the robber sternly, "or it will go hardwith you."
"Be still," whispered little Mollie, bravely taking Miss Stuart's handand patting it gently.
"And now, ladies," continued the man more politely, "I must ask you toput all your money and jewelry in a pile here. Stand up," he said toBarbara. "Put it on this seat and leave out nothing or you will regretit."
The five women began mechanically to remove what simple jewelry theyhappened to be wearing, for the most part pins, rings, bracelets andwatches, the latter Ruth's and Grace's. Then came the pocket books,Mollie's little blue silk knitted purse topping the pyramid.
"But this is not all your money," said the robber impatiently. "Do notdelay. It is getting late."
"I have some more in my bag," said Ruth faintly. "Mollie, it is on theback seat. Will you hand it to me?"
Mollie searched with trembling hands for the bag which was storedsomewhere under the seat.
"And have you nothing in that bag?" asked the highwayman, turningroughly to Barbara.
She did not answer at first. Her lips were moving silently and theothers thought s
he must be praying. Only Mollie knew she was repeating,for the second time since they had left home, the words her mother hadtaught her: "Heaven make me calm in the face of danger."
The highwayman laid his hand on the bag, flourishing his knife in amenacing way.
"Wait," she said calmly, looking at him with such contempt that his eyesdropped before her.
Placing the bag on Ruth's lap, Bab slowly opened it, fumbled inside fora moment and drew out a small pistol.
It caught a last ray of the setting sun, which had filtered through thetrees and gleamed dangerously, in spite of its miniature size.
Barbara pointed it deliberately at the robber, with a steady hand, andsaid quietly:
"Drop that knife and run unless you want me to shoot you!"
The robber stared at her in amazement.
"Quick!" she said and gave the trigger an ominous click.
The pistol was pointed straight at his midwaist.
"Drop the knife," repeated Barbara, "and back off."
He dropped the knife and started backward down the road.
"Now, run!" cried Barbara. And the highwayman turned and walked swiftlyuntil he was out of sight.
"There's no time to be lost," cried Barbara. The other four women sat asif in a trance. Their deliverance had been so unexpected that they werestill suffering from the shock.
Miss Sallie began to wring her hands in frantic despair.
"Girls, girls!" she wept, "I have brought you to this pass! What shallwe do? The man is sure to come back. We can't stay here all night! Ohmercy! why did I ever consent to take this dangerous trip? It's all myfault!"
Drop That Knife and Run!]
"Don't cry, Aunt Sallie, dearest! It's everybody's fault, and youmustn't waste your strength," urged Ruth, trying to comfort her aunt,whose nerves had had about all they could endure by now. "What do youthink we'd better do?" continued Ruth, turning to Barbara, who, with herpistol was keeping watch at the back of the automobile.
"I think we shall have to walk," replied Barbara. "There is no otherway, and we must start at once, before it gets dark. Ruth, you and Gracehelp Miss Sallie. Mollie, put all the valuables on the seat into my bag.There is no time to divide them now. We had better not try to carryanything except the small bags."
The little company seemed to feel a kind of relief in submitting itselfto Barbara's direction. Each doing as she was bid, they started down thewood road, leaving the car with all their baggage behind them.
Miss Sallie had recovered her composure. The necessity of movingquickly, had taken her mind off the situation for the present, and shewalked at as brisk a pace as did the girls.
Barbara had directed Mollie to walk a little in front and to keep asharp lookout, while Bab brought up the rear and watched the sides ofthe road as vigilantly as a guard in war time, her pistol cocked, readyto defend and fight for her friends and sister to her last breath.
Presently curiosity got the better of Ruth.
"Bab," she asked, "where on earth did you get that pistol?"
"From your father," answered Bab. "That was the secret. Don't youremember? But we must not risk talking now. The quieter we are thebetter. Voices carry in these woods."
"You are quite right, Bab, dear," replied Ruth, under her breath, andnot another word was spoken.
Each one was engaged in her own thoughts as the silent procession movedswiftly on.
Miss Sallie was wondering whether they would ever see morning alive.
Grace, who was very devout, was praying softly to herself.
Ruth, in the innermost depths of her mind, was secretly enjoying thewhole adventure, dangerous as it was.
Mollie was feeling homesick for her mother, while Bab had no time forany thought than the one that the highwayman might appear at any moment,and from any direction. Who knew but that he had turned and doubled onthem, and would spring at them from the next tree?
Presently Mollie, who was a few feet in advance of the others, paused.
"Look!" she whispered as the others came up. "I see the light of a firethrough the trees. I hear voices, too."
Sure enough, through the interlacing branches of the trees, they coulddistinctly see the glow of a large fire.
"Wait," exclaimed Bah under her breath. "Stand here at the side of theroad, where you will be hidden. Perhaps we may find help at last."Creeping cautiously among the trees she disappeared in the darkness. Itseemed an age to the others, waiting on the edge of the narrow woodlandroad, but it was only a few minutes, in reality, before Bab was backagain.
"They are Gypsies," she whispered. "I can tell by their wagons andtents."
"Gypsies!" exclaimed Miss Sallie, with a tragic gesture of both hands."We shall all be murdered as well as robbed!"
"No, no," protested Mollie. "I have a friend who is a Gypsy. This may beher tribe. Suppose I go and see. Let me go. Now, Bab," as her sistertouched her with a detaining hand, "I want to do something."
And little Mollie, with set lips and pale cheeks, her courageous heartthrobbing with repressed excitement, stole off into the dense shadows ofthe forest.
It seemed another age before the stillness was broken again by the soundof crackling underbrush, and Mollie's figure was gradually outlined inthe blackness.
"I couldn't tell," she said. "They seemed to be only men sitting aroundthe fire smoking. I was afraid to get any nearer for fear one of themmight be the robber. They say Gypsies can be very kind, but I think itwould be better if we all went together and asked for help, if we go atall. The men looked very fierce," she added faintly, slipping her handinto her sister's for sympathy.
"Dearest little sister," whispered Bab, kissing her, "don't ever sayagain you are a coward."
Then two persons emerged from between the trees on the other side of theroad.
The five women held their breath in fear and suspense as the figuresapproached, evidently without having seen these women standing in theshadow. They were close enough now for the automobilists to make outthat they were two women, one young and the other old apparently.
Suddenly, with a cry of joy and relief, Mollie sprang upon the elder ofthe two women, threw her arms about the stranger's neck and burst intouncontrollable sobs.
"O Granny Ann, Granny Ann!" cried Mollie. "At the very time we neededyour help most you have come to us. I hoped and prayed it was yourtribe, but I couldn't tell. There were only men."
The old Gypsy woman patted Mollie's cheek tenderly, while the littlegirl sobbed out the story of their evening's adventure.
The others had been so surprised at Mollie's sudden outburst that theystood silently by without interrupting the story; but all felt that alight was beginning to break on what a short time before had looked likea hopeless situation.
Granny Ann, the sixty years of whose life had been spent in wanderingover many countries, was as unperturbed as if they had met byappointment. Her companion, a young Gypsy girl, stood quietly by withoutspeaking a word.
"The ladies will be safe with us," said the old Gypsy, taking them allin with a comprehensive sweep of her small beady eyes; "as safe as ifthey were in their own homes. I have had shelter and food from the younglady, and a Gypsy never forgets a kindness. Come with me," she added,with a commanding gesture, and led the way to the encampment.
The Gypsy girl brought up the rear and the others trailed along inbetween, Ruth and Grace still assisting Miss Sallie over the roughplaces.
When they reached the camp the four Gypsy men, picturesquely groupedaround the fire, rose to their feet and looked curiously butimperturbably at the party of women.
Granny Ann called a grizzled old man from the fireside speaking rapidlyin a strange language, her own Romany tongue, in fact. After conferringwith him a few moments, she turned to Miss Sallie.
"My rom," she said (which in Gypsy language means husband), "thinks youhad better stay here to-night. It would not be easy to find thegentleman's house on such a dark night, but we can make you comfortablein one of our tents. He and the
other men will take the horses and drawthe steam carriage down the road until it is near enough to beguarded--if one of the young ladies will show the way. There is nodanger," she continued, sternly, as Miss Sallie began to protest at theidea of one of her girls going off with all those strange men. "A Gypsydoes not repay a kindness with a blow. Come," she called to the men,"that young lady will show the way." And she pointed at Barbara, who hadslipped the pistol into her belt, and was talking to Ruth in a lowvoice.
Miss Sallie explained to the girls what Granny Ann had decided was thebest course for them to take, while the four men untethered the fourlean horses and half-harnessed them, and the old Gypsy man gathered somecoils of rope together.
Ruth insisted on accompanying Barbara, and the two girls led the waythrough the wood to the road, the men following with the horses.
They found the automobile exactly as it had been left, save in oneparticular. The murderous-looking dagger was gone. But the suit casesand numerous dress boxes were untouched.
The girls waited at one side while the Gypsies secured the ropes to thecar and then to the collars of the horses. Two Gypsies walked on eitherside, holding the reins, while the other two ran to the back and beganto push the machine. The horses strained at the ropes; then in aninstant the automobile was moving easily, urged from the back and pulledfrom the front like a stubborn mule.
When the girls again reached that part of the road opposite the camp,the caravan came to a full stop.
Ruth directed that all the cushions be carried to the tent, togetherwith the steamer rugs stored under the seats, the tea-basket and otherluggage. The dismantled automobile was then left for the night.
Ruth and Bab found Miss Sallie waiting at the tent, a tragic figure inthe darkness.