Kitabı oku: «Brave and Bold; Or, The Fortunes of Robert Rushton», sayfa 4

CHAPTER X.
UNCLE AND NEPHEW

Paul Nichols looked forward with dismay to the prospect of having his nephew remain with him as a guest. Like all misers, he had a distrust of every one, and the present appearance of his nephew only confirmed the impressions he still retained of his earlier bad conduct. He had all the will to turn him out of his house, but Ben was vastly his superior in size and strength, and he did not dare to attempt it.

"He wants to rob, perhaps to murder me," thought Paul, surveying his big nephew with a troubled gaze.

His apprehensions were such that he even meditated offering to pay the intruder's board for a week at the tavern, if he would leave him in peace by himself. But the reluctance to part with his money finally prevented such a proposal being made.

In the afternoon the old man stayed around home. He did not dare to leave it lest Ben should take a fancy to search the house, and come upon some of his secret hoards, for people were right in reporting that he hid his money.

At last evening came. With visible discomposure the old man showed Ben to a room.

"You can sleep there," he said, pointing to a cot bed in the corner of the room.

"All right, uncle. Good-night!"

"Good-night!" said Paul Nichols.

He went out and closed the door behind him. He not only closed it, but locked it, having secretly hidden the key in his pocket. He chuckled softly to himself as he went downstairs. His nephew was securely disposed of for the night, being fastened in his chamber. But if he expected Ben Haley quietly to submit to this incarceration he was entirely mistaken in that individual. The latter heard the key turn in the lock, and comprehended at once his uncle's stratagem. Instead of being angry, he was amused.

"So my simple-minded uncle thinks he has drawn my teeth, does he? I'll give him a scare."

He began to jump up and down on the chamber floor in his heavy boots, which, as the floor was uncarpeted, made a terrible noise. The old man in the room below, just congratulating himself on his cunning move, grew pale as he listened. He supposed his nephew to be in a furious passion, and apprehensions of personal violence disturbed him. Still he reflected that he would be unable to get out, and in the morning he could go for the constable. But he was interrupted by a different noise. Ben had drawn off his boots, and was firing them one after the other at the door.

The noise became so intolerable, that Paul was compelled to ascend the stairs, trembling with fear.

"What's the matter?" he inquired at the door, in a quavering voice.

"Open the door," returned Ben.

His uncle reluctantly inserted the key in the lock and opening it presented a pale, scared face in the doorway. His nephew, with his coat stripped off, was sitting on the side of the bed.

"What's the matter?" asked Paul.

"Nothing, only you locked the door by mistake," said Ben, coolly.

"What made you make such a noise?" demanded Paul.

"To call you up. There was no bell in the room, so that was the only way I had of doing it. What made you lock me in?"

"I didn't think," stammered the old man.

"Just what I supposed. To guard against your making that mistake again, let me have the key."

"I'd rather keep it, if it's the same to you," said Paul, in alarm.

"But it isn't the same to me. You see, Uncle Paul, you are growing old and forgetful, and might lock me in again. That would not be pleasant, you know, especially if the house should catch fire in the night."

"What!" exclaimed Paul, terror-stricken, half suspecting his nephew contemplated turning incendiary.

"I don't think it will, mind, but it's best to be prepared, so give me the key."

The old man feebly protested, but ended in giving up the key to his nephew.

"There, that's all right. Now I'll turn in. Good-night."

"Good-night," responded Paul Nichols, and left the chamber, feeling more alarmed than ever. He was beginning to be more afraid and more distrustful of his nephew than ever. What if the latter should light on some of his various hiding places for money? Why, in that very chamber he had a hundred dollars in gold hidden behind the plastering. He groaned in spirit as he thought of it, and determined to tell his nephew the next morning that he must find another home, as he couldn't and wouldn't consent to his remaining longer.

But when the morning came he found the task a difficult one to enter upon. Finally, after breakfast, which consisted of eggs and toast, Ben Haley having ransacked the premises for eggs, which the old man intended for the market, Paul said, "Benjamin, you must not be offended, but I have lived alone for years, and I cannot invite you to stay longer."

"Where shall I go, uncle?" demanded Ben, taking out his pipe coolly, and lighting it.

"There's a tavern in the village."

"Is there? That won't do me any good."

"You'll be better off there than here. They set a very good table, and–"

"You don't," said Ben, finishing the sentence. "I know that, but then, uncle, I have two reasons for preferring to stay here. The first is, that I may enjoy the society of my only living relation; the second is, that I have not money enough to pay my board at the hotel."

He leaned back, and began to puff leisurely at his pipe, as if this settled the matter.

"If you have no money, why do you come to me?" demanded Paul, angrily. "Do you expect me to support you?"

"You wouldn't turn out your sister's son, would you, Uncle Paul?"

"You must earn your own living. I can't support you in idleness."

"You needn't; I'll work for you. Let me see, I'll do the cooking."

"I don't want you here," said the old man, desperately. "Why do you come to disturb me, after so many years?"

"I'll go away on one condition," said Ben Haley.

"What's that?"

"Give me, or lend me—I don't care which—a hundred dollars."

"Do you think I'm made of money?" asked Paul, fear and anger struggling for the mastery.

"I think you can spare me a hundred dollars."

"Go away! You are a bad man. You were a wild, bad boy, and you are no better now."

"Now, Uncle Paul, I think you're rather too hard upon me. Just consider that I am your nephew. What will people say if you turn me out of doors?"

"I don't care what they say. I can't have you here."

"I'm sorry I can't oblige you by going, Uncle Paul, but I've got a headache this morning, and don't feel like stirring. Let me stay with you a day or two, and then I may go."

Vain were all the old man's expostulations. His nephew sat obstinately smoking, and refused to move.

"Come out to the barn with me while I milk," said Paul, at length, not daring to leave his nephew by himself.

"Thank you, but I'm well off as I am. I've got a headache, and I'd rather stay here."

Milking couldn't longer be deferred. But for the stranger's presence it would have been attended to two hours earlier. Groaning in spirit, and with many forebodings, Paul went out to the barn, and in due time returned with his foaming pails. There sat his nephew in the old place, apparently not having stirred. Possibly he didn't mean mischief after all, Paul reflected. At any rate, he must leave him again, while he released the cows from their stalls, and drove them to pasture. He tried to obtain his nephew's companionship, but in vain.

"I'm not interested in cows, uncle," he said. "I'll be here when you come back."

With a sigh his uncle left the house, only half reassured. That he had reason for his distrust was proved by Ben Haley's movements. He lighted a candle, and going down to the cellar, first securing a pickax, struck into the earthen flooring, and began to work energetically.

"I am sure some of the old man's money is here," he said to himself. "I must work fast, or he'll catch me at it."

Half an hour later Paul Nichols re-entered the house. He looked for his nephew, but his seat was vacant. He thought he heard a dull thud in the cellar beneath. He hurried to the staircase, and tottered down. Ben had come upon a tin quart-measure partly filled with gold coins, and was stooping over, transferring them to his pocket.

With a hoarse cry like that of an animal deprived of its young, his uncle sprang upon him, and fastened his claw-like nails in the face of his burly nephew.

CHAPTER XI.
ROBERT COMES TO THE RESCUE

The attack was so sudden, and the old man's desperation so reinforced his feeble strength, that Ben Haley was thrown forward, and the measure of gold coins fell from his hand. But he quickly recovered himself.

"Let me alone," he said, sternly, forcibly removing his uncle's hands from his face, but not before the claw-like nails had drawn blood. "Let me alone, if you know what is best for yourself."

"You're a thief!" screamed Paul. "You shall go to jail for this."

"Shall I?" asked Ben, his face darkening and his tone full of menace. "Who is going to send me there?"

"I am," answered Paul. "I'll have you arrested."

"Look here, Uncle Paul," said Ben, confining the old man's arms to his side, "it's time we had a little talk together. You'd better not do as you say."

"You're a thief! The jail is the place for thieves."

"It isn't the place for me, and I'm not going there. Now let us come to an understanding. You are rich and I am poor."

"Rich!" repeated Paul.

"Yes; at any rate, you have got this farm, and more money hidden away than you will ever use. I am poor. You can spare me this money here as well as not."

"It is all I have."

"I know better than that. You have plenty more, but I will be satisfied with this. Remember, I am your sister's son."

"I don't care if you are," said the old man, doggedly.

"And you owe me some help. You'll never miss it. Now make up your mind to give me this money, and I'll go away and leave you in peace."

"Never!" exclaimed Paul, struggling hard to free himself.

"You won't!"

His uncle repeated the emphatic refusal.

"Then I shall have to put it out of your power to carry out your threat."

He took his uncle up in his strong arms, and moved toward the stairs.

"Are you going to murder me?" asked Paul, in mortal fear.

"You will find out what I am going to do," said Ben, grimly.

He carried his uncle upstairs, and, possessing himself of a clothesline in one corner of the kitchen, proceeded to tie him hand and foot, despite his feeble opposition.

"There," said he, when his uncle lay before him utterly helpless, "I think that disposes of you for a while. Now for the gold."

Leaving him on the floor, he again descended the cellar stairs, and began to gather up the gold coins, which had been scattered about the floor at the time of Paul's unexpected attack.

The old man groaned in spirit as he found himself about to be robbed, and utterly helpless to resist the outrage. But help was near at hand, though he knew it not. Robert Rushton had thought more than once of his unknown passenger of the day before, and the particular inquiries he made concerning Paul Nichols and his money. Ben Haley had impressed him far from favorably, and the more he called to mind his appearance, the more he feared that he meditated some dishonest designs upon Paul. So the next morning, in order to satisfy his mind that all was right, he rowed across to the same place where he had landed Ben, and fastening his boat, went up to the farmhouse. He reached it just as Ben, having secured the old man, had gone back into the cellar to gather up the gold.

Robert looked into the window, and, to his surprise, saw the old farmer lying bound hand and foot. He quickly leaped in, and asked:

"What is the matter? Who has done this?"

"Hush!" said the old man, "he'll hear you."

"Who do you mean?"

"My nephew."

"Where is he?"

"Down cellar. He's tied me here, and is stealing all my gold."

"What shall I do? Can I help you?"

"Cut the ropes first."

Robert drew a jackknife from his pocket, and did as he was bidden.

"Now," said Paul, rising with a sigh of relief from his constrained position, "while I bolt the cellar door, you go upstairs, and in the closet of the room over this you will find a gun. It is loaded. Bring it down."

Robert hurried upstairs, and quickly returned with the weapon.

"Do you know how to fire a gun?" asked Paul.

"Yes," said Robert.

"Then keep it. For I am nervous, and my hand trembles. If he breaks through the door, fire."

Ben Haley would have been up before this, but it occurred to him to explore other parts of the cellar, that he might carry away as much booty as possible. He had rendered himself amenable to the law already, and he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, so he argued. He was so busily occupied that he did not hear the noise of Robert's entrance into the room above, or he would at once have gone upstairs. In consequence of the delay his uncle and Robert had time to concert measures for opposing him.

Finally, not succeeding in finding more gold, he pocketed what he had found, and went up the cellar stairs. He attempted to open the door, when, to his great surprise, he found that it resisted his efforts.

"What makes the door stick so?" he muttered, not suspecting the true state of the case. But he was quickly enlightened.

"You can't come up!" exclaimed the old man, in triumph. "I've bolted the door."

"How did he get free? He must have untied the knots," thought Ben. "Does the old fool think he is going to keep me down here?"

"Unlock the door," he shouted, in a loud, stern voice, "or it will be the worse for you."

"Have you got the gold with you?"

"Yes."

"Then go down and leave it where you found it, and I will let you come up."

"You're a fool," was the reply. "Do you think I am a child? Open the door, or I will burst it open with my foot."

"You'd better not," said Paul, whose courage had returned with the presence of Robert and the possession of the gun.

"Why not? What are you going to do about it?" asked Ben, derisively.

"I've got help. You have more than one to contend with."

"I wonder if he has any one with him?" thought Ben. "I believe the old fool is only trying to deceive me. At any rate, help or no help, it is time I were out of this hole."

"If you don't open the door before I count three," he said, aloud, "I'll burst it open."

"What shall I do," asked Robert, in a low voice, "if he comes out?"

"If he tries to get away with the gold, fire!" said the old man.

Robert determined only to inflict a wound. The idea of taking a human life, even under such circumstances, was one that made him shudder. He felt that gold was not to be set against life.

"One—two—three!" counted Ben, deliberately.

The door remaining locked, he drew back and kicked the door powerfully. Had he been on even ground, it would have yielded to the blow, but kicking from the stair beneath, placed him at a disadvantage. Nevertheless the door shook and trembled beneath the force of the attack made upon it.

"Well, will you unlock it now?" he demanded, pausing.

"No," said the old man, "not unless you carry back the gold."

"I won't do that. I have had too much trouble to get it. But if you don't unlock the door at once I may be tempted to forget that you are my uncle."

"I should like to forget that you are my nephew," said the old man.

"The old fool has mustered up some courage," thought Ben. "I'll soon have him whining for mercy."

He made a fresh attack upon the door. This time he did not desist until he had broken through the panel. Then with the whole force he could command he threw himself against the upper part of the door, and it came crashing into the kitchen. Ben Haley leaped through the opening and confronted his uncle, who receded in alarm. The sight of the burly form of his nephew, and his stern and menacing countenance, once more made him quail.

Ben Haley looked around him, and his eyes lighted upon Robert Rushton standing beside the door with the gun in his hand.

He burst into a derisive laugh, and turning to his uncle, said: "So this is the help you were talking about. He's only a baby. I could twist him around my finger. Just lay down that gun, boy! It isn't meant for children like you."

CHAPTER XII.
ESCAPE

Though he had a weapon in his hand, many boys in Robert's situation would have been unnerved. He was a mere boy, though strong of his age. Opposed to him was a tall, strong man, of desperate character, fully resolved to carry out his dishonest purpose, and not likely to shrink from violence, to which he was probably only too well accustomed. From the old man he was not likely to obtain assistance, for already Paul's courage had begun to dwindle, and he regarded his nephew with a scared look.

"Lay down that gun, boy!" repeated Ben Haley. "I know you. You're the boy that rowed me across the river. You can row pretty well, but you're not quite a match for me even at that."

"This gun makes me even with you," said Robert, returning his look unflinchingly.

"Does it? Then all I can say is, that when you lose it you'll be in a bad pickle. Lay it down instantly."

"Then lay down the gold you have in your pockets," said our hero, still pointing his gun at Haley.

"Good boy! Brave boy!" said the old man, approvingly.

"Look here, boy," said Haley, in quick, stern tones, "I've had enough of this nonsense. If you don't put down that gun in double quick time, you'll repent it. One word—yes or no!"

"No," said Robert, resolutely.

No sooner had he uttered the monosyllable than Haley sprang toward him with the design of wresting the gun from him. But Robert had his finger upon the trigger, and fired. The bullet entered the shoulder of the ruffian, but in the excitement of the moment he only knew that he was hit, but this incensed him. In spite of the wound he seized the musket and forcibly wrested it from our hero. He raised it in both hands and would probably in his blind fury have killed him on the spot, but for the sudden opening of the outer door, and entrance of a neighboring farmer, who felt sufficiently intimate to enter without knocking. This changed Haley's intention. Feeling that the odds were against him, he sprang through the window, gun in hand, and ran with rapid strides towards the river.

"What's the matter?" demanded the new arrival, surveying the scene before him in astonishment.

"He's gone off with my gold," exclaimed Paul Nichols, recovering from his stupefaction. "Run after him, catch him!"

"Who is it?"

"Ben Haley."

"What, your nephew! I thought he was dead long ago."

"I wish he had been," said Paul, wringing his hands. "He's taken all my money—I shall die in the poorhouse."

"I can't understand how it all happened," said the neighbor, looking to Robert for an explanation. "Who fired the gun?"

"I did," said our hero.

"Did you hit him?"

"I think so. I saw blood on his shirt. I must have hit him in the shoulder."

"Don't stop to talk," said Paul, impatiently. "Go after him and get back the gold."

"We can't do much," said the neighbor, evidently not very anxious to come into conflict with such a bold ruffian. "He has the gun with him."

"What made you let him have it?" asked Paul.

"I couldn't help it," said Robert. "But he can't fire it. It is unloaded, and I don't think he has any ammunition with him."

"To be sure," said Paul, eagerly. "You see there's no danger. Go after him, both of you, He can't hurt ye."

Somewhat reassured the neighbor followed Robert, who at once started in pursuit of the escaped burglar. He was still in sight, though he had improved the time consumed in the foregoing colloquy, and was already near the river bank. On he sped, bent on making good his escape with the money he had dishonestly acquired. One doubt was in his mind. Should he find a boat? If not, the river would prove an insuperable obstacle, and he would be compelled to turn and change the direction of his flight. Looking over his shoulder he saw Robert and the farmer on his track, and he clutched his gun the more firmly.

"They'd better not touch me," he said to himself. "If I can't fire the gun I can brain either or both with it."

Thoughts of crossing the stream by swimming occurred to him. A sailor by profession, he was an expert swimmer, and the river was not wide enough to daunt him. But his pockets were filled with the gold he had stolen, and gold is well known to be the heaviest of all the metals. But nevertheless he could not leave it behind since it was for this he had incurred his present peril. In this uncertainty he reached the bank of the river, when to his surprise and joy his eye rested upon Robert's boat.

"The boy's boat!" he exclaimed, in exultation, "by all that's lucky! I will take the liberty of borrowing it without leave."

He sprang in, and seizing one of the oars, pushed out into the stream, first drawing up the anchor. When Robert and his companion reached the shore he was already floating at a safe distance.

"He's got my boat!" exclaimed our hero, in disappointment.

"So he has!" ejaculated the other.

"You're a little too late!" shouted Ben Haley, with a sneer. "Just carry back my compliments to the old fool yonder and tell him I left in too great a hurry to give him my note for the gold he kindly lent me. I'll attend to it when I get ready."

He had hitherto sculled the boat. Now he took the other oar and commenced rowing. But here the wound, of which he had at first been scarcely conscious, began to be felt, and the first vigorous stroke brought a sharp twinge, besides increasing the flow of blood. His natural ferocity was stimulated by his unpleasant discovery, and he shook his fist menacingly at Robert, from whom he had received the wound.

"There's a reckoning coming betwixt you and me, young one!" he cried, "and it'll be a heavy one. Ben Haley don't forget that sort of debt. The time'll come when he'll pay it back with interest. It mayn't come for years, but it'll come at last, you may be sure of that."

Finding that he could not row on account of his wound, he rose to his feet, and sculled the boat across as well as he could with one hand.

"I wish I had another boat," said Robert. "We could soon overtake him."

"Better let him go," said the neighbor. "He was always a bad one, that Ben Haley. I couldn't begin to tell you all the bad things he did when he was a boy. He was a regular dare-devil. You must look out for him, or he'll do you a mischief some time, to pay for that wound."

"He brought it on himself," said Robert "I gave him warning."

He went back to the farmhouse to tell Paul of his nephew's escape. He was brave and bold, but the malignant glance with which Ben Haley uttered his menace, gave him a vague sense of discomfort.