CHAPTER XIV.
SOME DISCOVERIES.
David would have been glad to reason with his father, but he had notbeen allowed the opportunity, and now it was too late to find one.His first thought was of the pointer. Giving the animal a hasty kick,to start him on his way home, David sought to save himself by flight,although he had little hope of success. Everybody said he was a swiftrunner for a boy of his age, and he did his best now, but fast as hewent, Godfrey gained at every step. David heard his heavy footfallsgrowing louder and more distinct, and once or twice he lost allheart, and was on the point of stopping and surrendering atdiscretion. But he knew that the beating he would receive would be amost severe one, and he was sure he did not deserve it, and that hisfather had no business to give it to him. This thought lent himwings, and a few more jumps brought him to the bayou.
"I've got you now!" cried Godfrey, and David heard the switch whistlethrough the air, as his pursuer made an effort to reach him with it.
Godfrey thought the bayou would offer an effectual check to David'sflight, but the boy himself looked upon it as his only means ofescape. He ran straight to the bank, which at this point arose almostperpendicularly from the water to the height of at least twenty feet,and just as Godfrey was stretching forth his hand to seize him by thecollar, he disappeared. His pursuer tried to stop himself, but sorapid was his flight that he made one or two involuntary steps, andit was only by catching hold of a friendly bush that he saved himselffrom following David over the bluff.
"Dog-gone my buttons!" thought Godfrey, gazing in astonishment at thebubbles on the surface of the water, which marked the spot whereDavid had gone down. "Who'd a thought he would a jumped into theBayou sooner nor take a leetle trouncin'? He's gettin' to be apowerful bad boy, Dave is, an' I had oughter be to hum every day tokeep him straight. Come back here!" he shouted, as the fugitive'shead suddenly bobbed up out of the water. "If you'll ketch the pinterfur me an' promise to say nothin' to nobody, I'll let you off thistime."
David could not say a word in reply. He felt as if every drop ofblood in his body had been turned into ice. He wiped the water fromhis eyes, glanced over his shoulder, to make sure that his father hadnot followed him into the bayou, and struck out for the oppositebank. Godfrey coaxed, promised and threatened to no purpose. Davidwould not come back, and neither would he make any answer. He held asstraight across the bayou as the current would permit, and when hereached the shore, he climbed out and disappeared in the bushes.
"He's gone," thought Godfrey, throwing away his switch and slowlyretracing his steps toward the camp, "an' here's more trouble for me.The pinter's gone too, an' that takes money outen my pocket an' putsit into the pockets of them pizen Gordons. Dave'll tell everything heknows as soon as he gets hum, an' that'll bring the constable up herearter me. I must go furder back in the cane, but I won't go outen thesettlement, an' nobody shan't drive me out nuther, till I get myhands onto them hundred an' fifty dollars. Then nobody won't everhear of me ag'in--Dan nor none of 'em. It's jest a trifle comfortin'to know that that thar mean Dave can't do no more shootin'; he losthis gun."
Yes, David's faithful friend and companion was gone. It slipped fromhis grasp as he struck the water, and was now lying at the bottom ofthe bayou. He felt the loss as keenly as Don Gordon would have feltthe loss of his fine breech-loader.
David thought he had never before been so nearly frozen as he waswhen he struck the opposite bank of the bayou; but a few minutes'vigorous exercise put his blood in circulation again, and then hebegan to feel more comfortable. He followed the bayou until hereached the lake, and then he plunged into the water again, and swamacross to the other shore. It was cold work, but he had no boat, andso there was nothing else he could do. He was a very forlorn-lookingobject indeed, when he reached the cabin. Dan, who was still sunninghimself on the bench, must have thought so, for when his brotherfirst appeared in sight, he jumped up and stared at him as if hecould not quite make up his mind whether the approaching object wasDavid Evans, or one of the dreaded haunts that lived in the General'slane. He could not wholly satisfy himself on this point until he hadmade some inquiries. "Is that you your own self, Davy?" he asked,holding himself ready to take to his heels in case a satisfactoryanswer was not promptly returned.
David replied that it was.
"What's the matter of you, an' whar you been?" continued Dan. "Whar'syour gun?"
"I have swam the bayou twice, and I have been taking a walk in thewoods. My gun is in the water near the foot of Bruin's Island."
Dan opened his eyes and was about to propound a multitude ofquestions, when something that came around the corner of the cabinjust then checked him. It was Don Gordon's pointer. He had found hisway to the cabin and taken quiet possession of his bed in the kennel,and Dan was none the wiser for it until that moment. Hearing thesound of David's voice, the dog came out to meet him, and the twoappeared to be overjoyed to see each other again. Dan opened his eyeswider than ever, and backed toward his seat on the bench withoutsaying a word.
"I found him right where you left him, Dan," said David, who thoughtit high time his brother should know that some of his mean acts werebeing brought to light. "I've got him again, you see, and you'llnever have another chance to steal him."
"What have you got, an' whar did I leave him?" Dan managed to ask atlast.
"O, I wouldn't try to play off innocent, if I were you. I know allabout it; and I want to tell you now that you had better turn over anew leaf and be quick about it, too. Mother says that if folks don'tgrow better every day, they grow worse, and I can see that it is truein your case and father's. You are both going down hill, and thefirst thing you know you'll do something that will get you in thecalaboose. Three months ago neither one of you would have been guiltyof stealing."
"Whoop!" yelled Dan, jumping up and knocking his heels together.
"I don't want to go back on either one of you," continued David, "andneither do I want to tell mother how bad you are; but I'll do itsooner than let you swindle Don Gordon or anybody else. Why don't yougo to work?"
"Kase I've got jest as much right to set around an' do nothin' asother folks has," answered Dan, who had had time to recover himselfin some measure. "That's jest why!"
"Mother and I don't sit around and do nothing."
"No, but them Gordons does."
"No, they don't. They all work, Don and Bert as well as the rest."
"If I hadn't seed them ridin' round so much on them circus hosses an'sailin' in them painted boats of their'n, mebbe I'd be willin' tob'lieve that," said Dan. "They don't work, nuther. They don't donothin', but have good times. They've got good clothes an' nicethings, an' I've got jest as much right to 'em as they have."
"Those ideas will get you into trouble some day," replied David,earnestly. "If you want nice things go to work and earn them; that'sthe way to get them."
While this conversation was going on, David was pulling off his wetclothes and putting on his best suit, the one he wore on Sundays. Itwas not just such a suit as the most of us would like to go to churchin, but it was whole and neat, and David looked like another boy init. He kept the pointer in the house with him all the while, for fearthat his brother might attempt to steal him again; but Dan was toomuch astonished at the turn affairs were taking, and too badlyfrightened, to make any more efforts to win the ten dollars reward.He sat on the bench, with his eyes fastened thoughtfully on theground, and saw David come out with the pointer and lead him down theroad toward General Gordon's, without saying a word.
When David reached the barn he walked straight through it to theshop, and there he found Don and Bert, busy at work building moretraps. They were surprised to see him dressed in his best, and stillmore surprised, and delighted too, when the pointer bounded in andfawned upon them.
"Father said that the offer of a reward would bring him if anythingwould," exclaimed Don, as he wound his arms around the animal's neckand hugged him as he might have hugged a brother he had not seen fora long time.
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"Yes, the reward did it," replied David, and that was true. If Danhad not seen the notice in the post-office, he never would have hadthat conversation with David, and consequently the latter would nothave known where to go to find the pointer.
"We all thought he was stolen," continued Don. "I am glad you are theone to bring him back, for I would rather give you the ten dollarsthan give it to anybody else."
"I don't want the money," said David, "and I won't take it."
"You can't help yourself. Where did you find him?"
"Didn't you promise that you wouldn't ask any questions?" askedDavid, with a smile.
"Well----yes, I did," answered Don, somewhat astonished. "But I madethat promise just to let the thief see that he would run no risk inreturning the dog. I can question you, can't I?"
"I'd rather you wouldn't."
Don uttered a long-drawn whistle and looked at Bert to see what hethought about it; but the blank expression on the latter's faceshowed that he was altogether in the dark.
"Well, let it go," said Don, picking up his hammer again. "I've gotthe dog back and with that I'll be satisfied. You'll take him homewith you tonight, of course?"
"No, I think not. I am afraid to take him there."
"Then leave him here," said Don, who now began to think that he knewpretty nearly what had been going on. "He'll be safe with us, and youcan find him when you want him. He isn't broken yet."
"I know it, but I can't do any more for him. I shall have to give youback your ten dollars."
"I'll not take it. A bargain is a bargain. I want my dog broken, andyou need the money to send off your quails with."
"I know it," said David again; "but I can't shoot any more birds overhim. I have no gun."
"Where is it?"
"At the bottom of the bayou."
The brothers grew more and more astonished the longer they talkedwith David, and Don told himself that there had been some queerdoings in the settlement that morning. His interest and curiositywere thoroughly aroused, but he did not ask any more questions, forhe knew that David could not explain matters without exposing one ormore members of his own family. He turned the conversation into anew channel by saying suddenly:
"Bert and I made the rounds of the traps this morning, and took out ahundred and fifty birds. What do you say to that?"
Under almost any other circumstances David would have had a good dealto say about it; but just now he seemed to have lost all interest inhis business. It would have been hard for any boy to wear a merrysmile and keep up a light heart after such a scene as David hadpassed through that morning. He could not banish it from his memory.His father was hiding in the woods, because he was afraid to show hisface among his neighbors again; he was a receiver of stolen propertyand his brother Dan was a thief, and the remembrance of these factswas enough to depress the most buoyant spirits. David wanted to dosomething to bring his father and brother to their senses, and inducethem to become decent, respected members of the community, but hedid not know how to set about it, and there was no one of whom hecould ask advice. He never talked to his mother about the familydifficulties now. She had more than her share of trouble, and Davidalways tried to talk about cheerful things when he was in herpresence.
"Doesn't it cheer you up any to know that your business isprospering?" exclaimed Bert. "Then we will tell you something else.How would you like to be mail carrier? How would you like to putthirty dollars in your pocket every month?"
"That is more money than I shall be able to earn for long years tocome," replied David.
"Perhaps not. Father told us this morning that the old mail carrieris going to give up his route, his contract having expired, andhe thinks he can get you appointed in his place. He's been to seeColonel Packard, and Silas Jones, and all the rest of the prominentmen in the settlement, and they have promised to give you all theirinfluence and to go on your bond."
"What does that mean?" asked David, who now began to show someinterest in the matter.
"Why, there are certain legal forms to go through with, which fatherexplained, but which I don't pretend to understand," said Bert. "Youmust promise to attend to your business----"
"O, I'll do that," exclaimed David.
"Of course you will," said Don, "but that will not satisfy theauthorities in Washington. They don't know you, and even if they didit would make no difference. The law must be complied with, and youmust give bonds for the faithful performance of your duty. But thatneedn't trouble you; father will attend to it. He says your chancesare good, for you are the only one on the track so far."
This was the first time David knew that there was anybody on thetrack. He was greatly astonished and delighted, and his attempts toexpress his gratitude for the General's kindness and thoughtfulnesswere awkward enough. Thirty dollars was a large sum of money in hiseyes. His earnings would amount to three hundred and sixty dollarsa year, and couldn't he and his mother live nicely on that and savesomething for a rainy day besides? If he could get the contract, andhis father and Dan would only abandon their lazy, worthless mode oflife and go to work, how happy they would all be!
"What's the matter?" asked Don, for David's face became clouded againwhen he thought of his father and Dan.
"There's a good deal the matter," replied David, "but it is nothing Ican help."
"You don't act like yourself at all to-day," continued Don. "Supposeyou go home and take a rest. Don't brood over your troubles, whateverthey are. Let them go, if you can't help them. Think about pleasantthings, and to-morrow you will come up here, feeling like a new boy.Bert and I will set the traps we have made this morning, and thenwe'll go up and take a look at our bear trap."
David thought it would be a good plan to follow this advice, so heclosed the door of the shop to keep the pointer from following him,and started for home.
"Well," said Bert, as he picked up his knife and resumed work uponthe figure four he was making, "Dave has seen his father!"
"And had trouble with him, too," added Don.
"It was about the pointer," said Bert.
"My idea exactly. Godfrey is hiding somewhere in the cane; Dan wantedto make a little more money without work, so he stole the pointerand gave him to his father to keep until I offered a reward for him.David found it out, and to save me from being swindled, he recoveredthe pointer and got himself into difficulty by it."
The boys, who were merely guessing at all this, would have beensurprised to know that their surmises were all correct. David and histroubles, and his manful efforts to better his condition in spite ofhis adverse circumstances, afforded them topics of conversation whilethey were at work; and when the figure four, on which Bert wasemployed, was completed, the mule was harnessed to the wagon, and theboys drove off to set the half a dozen new traps they had built thatmorning. It was twelve o'clock when they returned, and they foundlunch waiting for them. When they had done ample justice to it, theybegan making hasty preparations for their visit to the island, and aquarter of an hour more saw them well on their way up the bayou.
They found to their great delight that the ducks were beginning tocome in now, and Don was kept busy rowing from one side of the bayouto the other to pick up the dead and wounded birds that Bert broughtout of the numerous flocks which took wing as they approached. Aftera dozen fine fat mallards had been brought to bag, Bert declaredthat it was a sin to shoot any more, and took his place at the oars,while Don sat in the stern and steered.
"These ducks tell us that it is time to go to our shooting-box," saidthe latter. "We always wait until they begin to come in before wemake up our party, you know."
"We ought to go over there and fix up a bit first," said Bert. "If wedon't find anything in our trap, let's go over there and see howthings look. We have had some splendid times in that littleshooting-box, haven't we?"
They certainly had, and they found much pleasure in living them overagain in imagination. While they were talking about the many happyhours they had spent there, they reached Bru
in's Island, and Donbrought the canoe around and ran the bow upon the beach. The houndsjumped out, and running about with their noses close to the ground,began to show the same signs of excitement that they had exhibitedon the day of their first visit to the island. The boys knew morenow than they did then, and consequently were not in such haste todeclare that it was a bear the dogs scented. It might be GodfreyEvans; and that he or somebody else had been there since they leftwas very evident. Their trap had been sprung by the aid of a longpole, which was still fast under the heavy roof; the lever and ropehad been carried away; and the bag of corn which Don had hung uponthe sapling had also disappeared. Don was provoked, and laid up inhis mind a few sharp words, to be addressed to Godfrey on thesubject, should they ever happen to meet again; but he had verylittle to say. The boys had been thoughtful enough to bring an axe, apiece of rope and another small bag of corn with them, and, althoughthey had no assurance that their labor would not be wasted, they setthe trap again and started for home.
"If Godfrey did that," said Don, "he must have swam the bayou, unlesshe has a boat hidden away in the bushes somewhere, which is notlikely. If it was summer now, he would probably spring that trapevery day, just to keep us from catching that bear; but the weatheris getting frosty, and he'll not relish many more cold baths. I don'tthink he will trouble us that way any more."
When they reached the mouth of the bayou, Bert, who was steering,directed the canoe across the lake, toward the point on which theshooting-box was located. During a pause in the conversation, helooked toward the place where it ought to be, but could see nothingof it. "What's the matter?" asked his brother, who saw that therewas something wrong.
"That's Long Point, isn't it?" asked Bert, in reply. "It certainlyis, but where's the house?"
"You haven't been there in almost six months, and perhaps you haveforgotten where it is," said Don, with a laugh.
"No, I haven't. It stood close beside a big shell-bark, didn't it?Well, there's the tree; now show me the shooting-box?"
Don faced about on his seat, expecting to point the building out tohis brother at once, and was a good deal surprised when he found thathe could not see it himself. There was the tree, sure enough, but thespot which the shooting-box ought to have occupied, was vacant. Afterrunning his eyes all along the shore, to satisfy himself that he hadmade no mistake as to the locality, Don picked up the oars again, andwith a few more strokes brought the canoe to the bank. All there wasleft of the shooting-box they could have carried away in their arms.Even the stove had not escaped destruction. The chimney had fallenupon it and it was completely ruined.
"Godfrey means to put a stop to all our fun if he can, doesn't he?"said Bert, who thought that a man who would steal a canoe and springa trap, would be guilty of any meanness.
"Let's go home," was Don's reply. "We'll have another shooting-boxhere some day, Bert, and it will beat the old one all to pieces."
The boys thought they had had hard luck that day, and so did theirfather, when he had heard their story; but they came very near havingworse luck that night, and they never knew anything about it untilseveral days afterward. The General found it out the next morning.He went to the fields at an early hour, as he always did, to set hisnegroes at work, and was met by the hostler, who had an excitingpiece of news to communicate. "Misser Gordon," said he, "Misser Don'shound dogs done treed two fellers down dar in de quarter. Dey's beendar all de blessed night top o' dat ar house; yes, sar, dat's whatdey says, sar!"
The General replied that if the two fellows had come there for thepurpose of stealing, he was glad of it, and said he would go and takea look at them. When he saw them, perhaps he would know where thecontents of his smoke-house had been going lately. He rode down tothe quarters as soon as his horse was brought out, and when he camewithin sight of the cabin in which the boys kept their capturedquails, he saw two persons sitting astride of the ridge-pole andDon's hounds gathered about the building, keeping guard over them.The General could scarcely believe his eyes, although when he came torecall several little things which Don and Bert had told him, he wasnot so very much surprised after all. The persons whom the hounds hadforced to take refuge on the roof of the cabin were boys; and as soonas the General was near enough to them to distinguish their features,he saw that they were Lester Brigham and Bob Owens.