Kitabı oku: «The Young Acrobat of the Great North American Circus», sayfa 9

CHAPTER XXVII.
A MINER'S CABIN

Kit's principal captor was known as Dick Hayden. He was an Englishman, and a leader in every kind of mischief. If there was any disturbance between the miners and their employers, he was generally found to be at the bottom of it. A naturally quarrelsome disposition was intensified by intemperance. In the attack upon the circus tents he found himself in his element. His ignominious defeat made him ugly and revengeful.

His wife was dead, but he had one child, Janet, a girl of thirteen, who cooked for him and took care of his cabin. The poor girl had a hard time of it, but she endeavored so far as possible to avoid trouble with her brutal parent.

It was near ten o'clock when Hayden came home after locking Kit in the deserted cabin. He had gone away without supper, but late as it was, Janet had something hot ready for him on the stove.

"Well, Janet, child, have you my supper ready?" he said, not unpleasantly, for his victory over Kit and the meditated revenge of the next day had put him in good humor.

"Yes, father; it's on the stove and ready to dish up."

"Lay the table, then, for I'm main tired and hungry."

The little girl quickly spread the cloth, and Dick Hayden ate like a voracious animal.

When supper was over he sat back in his chair and lit a pipe. A comfortable supper made him loquacious.

"Well, Janet, you don't ask where I've been."

"Was it to the circus, father?"

"Yes."

"How did you like the show?"

"I didn't see it," he growled, a frown gathering upon his brow.

"And why not, father?"

"Because we had a fight to get in free, and got the worst of it."

"They must be main strong, then, those circus men."

"Strong!" repeated Hayden, scornfully. "Well, mayhap they are, but we'd have bested them but for the giant."

"The giant! Is it the big man I saw in the parade?"

"Yes; he's as strong as three men. He flung me down as easily as I'd throw a boy."

"Then he must have been strong, for you're a powerful man, father."

"There isn't a man as works in the mine'll compare with me, lass," said Hayden, proudly; "but all the same I'm no match for a monster."

"Tell me about it, father," said Janet, with natural curiosity.

Dick Hayden went on to describe the fight around the ticket stand, and how he had slipped away, intending to cut the ropes of the tent and let it down on the heads of the spectators gathered inside.

"I'd have done it, too," he added, "but for a kid."

"I thought just now you said it was the giant."

"And I stick to it, lass; but this boy saw what I was doing, and brought the giant to the spot. I could do nothing after that. He threw me down, so that for a few minutes I was stunned."

"And how did the fight come out at the ticket stand, father?"

"Our men had almost overpowered the circus men, when the giant rushed into the midst, and, seizing a club from Bob Stubbs, laid about him, till half a dozen of our strongest men lay on the ground with broken heads."

What puzzled Janet was, that her father should have come home in such good humor after so disastrous a defeat. It was contrary to her experience of him. She would naturally have expected that he would be surly and quarrelsome. The mystery was soon made clear.

"But we've got even with them!" chuckled Hayden directly after.

"How is that, father?"

"We caught the kid."

"You have?"

"Yes; he was goin' to the circus cars to turn in when Stubbs and I caught him."

"You—you didn't kill him, father?" asked Janet in alarm.

"No, not yet."

"Where is he?"

"Do you mind the deserted cabin on Knob Hill?"

"Yes, father."

"He's locked up in that, tied hand and foot."

"How long do you mean to keep him there?" asked Janet, anxiously.

"Till to-morrow, and then–" Dick paused ominously.

"Well, and then?"

"He'll be lucky if he gets off with a whole skin," growled her father. "But for him I'd have brought down the tent about the ears of the people that sat inside, and we'd have had a fine revenge on the showmen."

"You don't mean to kill the boy, do you, father?"

"What is it to you, lass? You'd best mind your own business. You've got nothing to do with it."

"How does the boy look? Was it the one that drove the first chariot, father?"

"Like enough, lass! Did you see him?"

"Yes; I saw the parade. Everybody was out in the streets then."

"And you took partic'lar notice of the boy? That's like a lass," chuckled Hayden.

"But it was his duty, father, to stand by the show, seein' he belongs to it."

"I don't trouble myself about that. He brought that monster on me, and I'm sore yet with the fall he gave me. I'll take it out of the kid."

"But it seems to me, father, it would be better to lay for the giant."

"What folly is that, lass? I'd be main glad to give the giant a dose of what he gave me, but he'll leave town to-night, and I ain't big enough to tackle him, even if I had the chance. So I'll revenge myself on his friend, the boy. The kid may be his son, for aught I know."

"And what will you do for him, father?" asked Janet, pertinaciously. "You won't kill him?"

"Well, I won't go so far as that, for I've no mind to put my neck in a noose, but I'll flog him within an inch of his life. I'll teach him to mind his own business for the future."

Janet knew her father's strength and brutality, and she shuddered at the idea of the boy being exposed to it. She knew very well it would be of no use to make a protest. She would only get herself into trouble. Yet she couldn't reconcile herself to the thought of poor Kit being cruelly punished. She asked herself what she could do to prevent it.

There was one thing in favor of a rescue. She knew where Kit was confined. If it were not so late she would steal out, and going to the cabin relieve him from captivity. But it was too late, and too dark for that. Besides, she could not leave her father's cabin without observation.

"I will wait till to-morrow morning," she said to herself.

It so chanced that on account of some slight repairs the mine in which her father was employed was shut down for a few days. This was favorable, for he would lie in bed till eight o'clock at least, and there would be a chance to get out without observation.

The next morning, about five o'clock, Janet rose from her bed, hastily dressed herself, and crept to the door of her father's chamber. He was sound asleep, and breathing heavily. There was small chance of his awakening before seven o'clock.

Janet took a little meat and bread in a tin pail, for she thought the captive might be in need of breakfast, and then, putting a sharp knife in her pocket to cut the ropes that bound him, she left the house and took her way over the hill to the deserted cabin which served as Kit's prison.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
KIT RESCUED BY A GIRL

Kit had succeeded in getting a little sleep during the night, but his position was necessarily constrained and he was but very slightly refreshed. Moreover he was a prey to anxiety, for he did not know what fate awaited him on the succeeding day.

At four o'clock in the morning a little light found its way into the cabin through a small window at the rear. The other windows were boarded up.

Kit, appreciating the desirability of escaping before a visit should be made him by his captors, tried hard to work himself out of his bonds, but only succeeded in confining himself more closely than before.

"What will they do to me?" he asked himself anxiously.

He had heard from some of the circus men accounts of the roughness and brutality of the miners, or at least of a certain class of them, for some were quiet and peaceable men, and he knew that there was no extreme of which they were not capable. Life is sweet, and to a boy of sixteen, in good health and strength, it is especially dear. Suppose he should lose his life in this region? Probably none of his friends would ever learn what had become of him, and his uncle and cousin would not scruple to spread rumors to his discredit.

It was certainly tantalizing that he should be tied hand and foot, utterly unable to help himself.

More and more light crept in at the window, and there was every indication of its being a glorious day. But this prospect brought no pleasure to poor Kit.

"Before this time the circus people must have found out my absence," he thought. "Will they take the trouble to look for me?"

Kit was on good terms with his comrades, indeed he was popular with them all, as a bright boy is apt to be, and he did not like to think that no effort would be made to find him. Still, as he could not help owning to himself, they had no clew that was likely to lead to success. He had given no one notice where he was going, and his capture was not likely to have been observed by any one.

While he was indulging in these sorrowful reflections, his attention was drawn to a noise at the window.

"They can't have come back so early," he said to himself in surprise.

He twisted himself round to catch a glimpse, if possible, of the early visitor, and to his delight, he caught a partial view of Janet's dress. Suppose she should prove a deliverer, he said to himself with beating heart.

The visitor, whoever it was, was evidently trying to peer into the cabin. Kit was so placed in a corner as to be almost out of sight in the dark interior. He felt that he must attract attention.

"Hallo, there!" he cried in a loud clear voice.

"He's there!" thought Janet, "just as father said."

"Let me out!" cried Kit, eagerly. "Draw out the bolt, and open the door!"

"Will she do it, or will she be frightened away?" he asked himself, with his heart filled with suspense.

He did not have long to wait for an answer, and a favorable one. He heard the bolt withdrawn, then the door was opened, and the girl's face appeared. Janet Hayden was small, not especially pretty, and rather old-fashioned in looks, but to poor Kit she seemed like an angel.

"Are you the circus boy?" she asked timidly.

"Yes; I am tied here. Have you got a knife to cut this rope?"

"Yes; I brought one with me."

"Then you knew I was here?" Kit asked in surprise.

"Yes; it was my father that locked you up here—my father and another man."

"Will you cut the rope and let me go, then?"

"Yes; that is what I came for."

The little maid went up to the captive, bent over, and with considerable sawing, for the knife she had with her was a dull case knife, succeeded in severing the rope, and Kit was able to rise and stand upon his feet. It was a perfect luxury to feel himself once more free and unshackled.

"I'm very much obliged to you," he said, gratefully. "You can't imagine how stiff I am."

"I should think you would be," said Janet, sympathetically.

"When did your father tell you that I was here?"

"After he got home last night. It was after he had eaten his supper."

"And where is he now?"

"At home and asleep."

"Does he get up early?" asked Kit, in some anxiety.

"Yes, when he is at work; but the mine is shut down for a few days, so he lies abed longer."

"Did he say anything about coming here to-day?"

"Yes, he meant to come—he and the other man—and I was afraid he would do you some harm."

"He would have done so, I am sure," said Kit, shuddering. "I don't see how such a rough father should have so good a daughter."

Janet blushed, and seemed pleased with the compliment.

"I think I take after my mother," she said.

"Is your mother alive?"

"No, she died two years ago," answered Janet, sorrowfully. "She was Scotch, and that is why I am called by a Scotch name."

"What is your name, if you don't mind telling me?"

"Janet. I am Janet Hayden."

"I shall always remember it, for you have done me a great service."

"What is your name?" asked Janet, feeling less timid than at first.

"Kit Watson."

"That is a funny name—Kit, I mean."

"My right name is Christopher, but my friends call me Kit. Can you direct me to the next town—Groveton, where the circus shows to-day."

"Yes, if you will come outside, I will point out which way it is."

Kit emerged from the cabin, nothing loath, and Janet pointed in a westerly direction.

"You go over the hill," she said, "and you will come to a road. You will know it, for near the stile there is a red house."

"Thank you. How far is it to the next town?"

"Eight miles, I believe."

"That would be a long walk. Do you think I could get any one to take me over in a wagon?"

"I think the man who lives in the red house, Mr. Stover, would take you over, if you pay him."

"I shall be glad to pay him, and–" Kit paused, for he felt rather delicate about offering any money to Janet, though he knew she had rendered him most valuable service. "Will you let me offer you a little present?"

He took a five dollar bill from his pocket, and offered it to Janet.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It is a five dollar bill."

"You must be rich," she said, for this seemed to her a great deal of money.

"Oh, no! but will you take it?"

"No," answered Janet, shrinking back, "I didn't come here for money."

"I am sure you didn't, but I should like to give you something."

"No, I would rather not. Besides, if father knew I had money, he would suspect something, and beat me."

"Like the brute that he is," thought Kit.

"But I must go at once, for he may wake up and miss me. Good-by!"

"Good-by!" said Kit.

He had no time to say more, for the child was already hurrying down the hill.

CHAPTER XXIX.
JANET MEETS THE GIANT

Janet took her way homewards, hurrying with quick feet, lest her father should wake up before she arrived. But she had taken so early a start that she found him still sleeping soundly. She instantly began to make preparations for breakfast.

By the time it was on the table her father woke up and yawned. With his waking there came the thought of his young circus captive, and the vengeance he intended to wreak upon him. This pleasant idea roused him completely, and he dressed himself briskly.

"Is breakfast ready, Janet?" he asked.

"Yes, father."

"What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock," answered Janet, looking at the clock over the mantel.

"I am expecting Bob Stubbs here this morning. Have you got enough for him?"

"I think so, father," replied Janet. She did not speak with alacrity, for Mr. Stubbs was no favorite of hers.

At that moment a step was heard at the door, and the gentleman spoken of made his appearance.

"You're late, Dick," said Stubbs, rubbing his bristling chin.

"Yes, I got tired out yesterday. When the mine's shut down I like to take my time. Have you had breakfast, Bob?"

"Ye-es," answered Stubbs hesitating, as he glanced at the neatly spread table, with the eggs and bacon on the center dish.

"Never mind! You can eat some more. Put a chair for him, Janet."

"This lass of yours is growing pretty," said Stubbs, with a glance of admiration.

"There's a compliment for you, lass!" said the father.

Janet, however, did not appear to appreciate it, and continued to look grave.

"Wonder how the kid's getting along," said Bob Stubbs, with his mouth full of bacon.

"I reckon he's hungry," said Dick Hayden, in a voice of satisfaction.

"Have you left him without anything to eat, father?" asked Janet.

"Yes."

"The poor fellow will be starved."

"And serves him right, too. There ain't no call to pity him."

"Why won't you take him some breakfast if you're going round there? I will put some up in a tin pail."

"What do you say to that, Bob, hey?" said Hayden.

"It's natural for the gal to pity him. He's a nice lookin' chap enough."

"He's nicer looking than he will be when we get through with him, eh, Bob?"

"That's so, Dick."

As Janet listened to this conversation, her heart revolted against the brutality conveyed by the words. She felt dissatisfied to think that her own father was such a man. She could not well feel an affection for him, remembering how ill he had treated her gentle mother, who, as she knew, would be living to-day had she been wedded to a better husband.

The two men did not linger long at the table. They were accustomed to swallow their food rapidly, in order to get to the scene of their daily labor on time. So in twenty minutes they rose from the table, and putting on their hats left the cabin.

As they departed Janet breathed a sigh of relief, and congratulated herself that she had released the poor boy, and so saved him from the brutal treatment he was likely to receive at the hands of the two miners.

"He will have had plenty of time to get away before father and Mr. Stubbs reach the cabin," she said to herself.

Janet washed the dishes, and then, having an errand at the store, put on her hat and left the cabin. She did not trouble herself to lock the door, for there was nothing in the place likely to excite the cupidity of any dishonest person.

Janet had accomplished a part of the distance when she saw approaching her a figure that at once attracted her earnest attention.

The reason will be readily understood when I say that it was Achilles Henderson, the circus giant.

Mr. Henderson had been exploring the neighborhood in the hope of finding some trace of Kit, but thus far had been unsuccessful. He was very much perplexed, having absolutely no clew, and was thinking of starting for Groveton, where the circus was billed to appear that evening. He was walking in an undecided way, and never thought of noticing the little girl who stood staring at him. Indeed he was so used to being stared at that he took it as a matter of course, and did not think of giving the curious gazer a second glance.

But his attention was called by a low, half frightened voice.

"Mr. Giant!"

"Well, little girl, what do you want?" he asked.

"Are you looking for anybody?" asked Janet, first glancing carefully around, to make sure that she was not likely to be overheard.

"Yes," answered Achilles, quickly. "I am looking for a boy."

"A circus boy?"

"Yes; do you know where he is?"

"Come nearer! I don't want anybody to hear what I say."

"All right, my little maid! Is the boy alive and well?"

"Yes, he was two hours ago."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know where he is now."

Achilles looked disappointed.

"Tell me all you know," he said.

"My father and Bob Stubbs took him last night, and shut him up in a lonely cabin on the hill."

"Where is the cabin?"

"He isn't there now. I let him out."

"Good for you, little girl! You're a trump. You're a great deal better than your father. Do you know where the boy went?"

"I will tell you where I told him to go."

"Where is your father now? Is he at work?"

"No; the mine is shut down."

"How did you know that the boy was in the cabin?"

"I heard father tell where he was last night, when he was at supper. So I got up very early, and stole out to release him, for I was afraid father might kill him. He said he meant to punish him for what you did. He said he would rather get at you."

"He's quite welcome to, if he wants to," answered Achilles, grimly. "On the whole I wouldn't advise him to tackle me."

"He thought you had gone on with the circus."

"I should have done so if I hadn't missed Kit."

"Yes; he told me his name was Kit."

"Was he tied?"

"Yes; I took a knife with me and cut the ropes."

"The poor fellow must have passed an uncomfortable night."

"Yes, he said so."

"He must have been very glad to see you."

"Yes, he was. I am only afraid of one thing."

"What is that?"

"Father and the other man left the house more than half an hour ago to go to the cabin. When they find him gone, they will be very angry."

"Like as not."

"And I think they will try to find him."

"Very true; I wish I knew where he was. They wouldn't dare to attack him in my company."

"No, Mr. Giant. You must be very strong."

"I think I would be a match for them."

Achilles questioned Janet minutely as to the advice she had given Kit.

"I might follow the boy," he said to himself, "at a guess, but there's only half a chance of my hitting right. Where is the cabin?" he asked, suddenly.

Janet pointed in the proper direction.

"I know what I'll do," he said, with sudden decision. "I'll follow your father and the other man. All the danger to Kit is likely to come from them. If I can get track of them, I can make sure that no mischief will be done."

Achilles Henderson then stepped over a fence which an ordinary man would have had to climb, and made his way to the deserted cabin.