Young Captain Jack; Or, The Son of a Soldier by Alger and Stratemeyer (top android ebook reader .TXT) 📕

disarmed they were ordered to enter the cave.

"If you make the least outcry we'll come back and shoot you," said Jack.

Then he motioned to the two negroes, and all three set off on a run down the mountain side. They heard a rifle shot to the right, and consequently moved to the left.

The storm now burst over the mountains in all of its fury, with vivid flashes of lightning and sharp cracks of thunder. As they proceeded they heard the distant falling of one tree or another, as the giants of the forest were laid low by the elements.

"I dun rackon da won't follow us in dis yeah storm," remarked Old Ben, as they stopped after a while, to catch their breath. "Da will be fo' gittin' back to de cabe an' stayin' dar."

"I hope that traveler escaped them," answered Jack. "But those gun-shots sounded dubious."

"De gorillas ought all to be hung!" came from Columbus Washington. "Da aint no sodgers, no matter if da do w'ar a uniform."

"They are outlaws, pure and simple," answered Jack. "But come, we must go on. Ben, how far are we from home, do you calculate?"

"Six or seben miles, Massah Jack."

"Then we have a good, stiff walk before us."

"Do yo' t'ink yo' can walk dat far, Massah Jack, in dis awful storm?"

"I can, unless the rain sets in harder. I am anxious to get back, you know."

"I don't blame yo' fo' dat, Massah Jack. De folks will be mighty glad to see yo', too," answered Old Ben.

On they went through the darkness, Old Ben following the trail with the keenness of a sleuth-hound. But it was far from a pleasant journey, as Jack soon discovered, as he stumbled along over dirt and rocks and through the dripping bushes. He was soaked to the skin, and the rawness of the air caused him to shiver.

The downpour was now extra heavy, and they had to come to a halt under some trees, in order to get their breath again. The wind was blowing strongly and it was directly in their faces.

"How many miles have we made, Ben?" asked Jack.

"Not more dan t'ree, Massah Jack?"

"Then we have nearly four still to cover."

"Yes, Massah Jack, an' wery hard roads, too, ober Hallack's hill."

"If there was a cabin handy, I would go in for a rest of an hour or two. The storm may let up."

"Da is a cabin down de trail, on de bend."

"Then let us stop there."

So it was arranged, and soon they gained the cabin, which was deserted, the owner having joined the soldiers a year before, and his wife and children being with some relatives in the town.

It was easy to get into the cabin, and once inside they started to make themselves as comfortable as possible.

But they had not been in the place over half an hour when voices outside filled them with fresh alarm.

CHAPTER XXX.

BROUGHT TO BAY.

"Somebody is coming!" whispered Jack excitedly. "I wonder if it is the guerrillas?"

"If da come, de jig am up!" groaned Old Ben.

"Let us hide upstairs," returned our hero. "Quick!"

There was no time to say more, and all three ran for the ladder leading to the loft of the cabin, which was but a story and a half high. Jack was the first up, and the negroes quickly followed, and then all lay low on the flooring, hardly daring to breathe.

In a moment more two men entered the cabin, shaking the water from their rubber cloaks as they did so. The two men were Dr. Mackey and St. John Ruthven.

"What a beastly night!" exclaimed St. John with a shiver. "When I left home to meet you I never expected such a storm as this. If I had, I shouldn't have come."

"I didn't look for such a rain myself," returned Dr. Mackey, throwing off his cloak. "Anybody around?"

"Don't seem to be, although there are muddy footprints on the floor."

The two gazed around, but Jack and his companions were wise enough to keep out of sight, and apparently satisfied that the cabin was deserted, Dr. Mackey flung himself on a bench and St. John did likewise.

"You said you wished to see me on important business," observed the spendthrift.

"I do," was the reply. "I wish to help both you and myself."

"In what way."

"In several ways, Mr. Ruthven. In the first place, you are aware that I claim Jack as my son."

"I know that."

"I am very anxious to establish my claim to the boy."

"I don't see how I can help you, Dr. Mackey, although I am glad enough to have you claim Jack."

"You ought to help me, for it will be helping yourself as well. Your aunt thinks a great deal of Jack. If he is allowed to remain at the plantation she may take it into her head to leave him half of her property."

"I know that, too."

"The property ought to go to that girl and to you. With Jack out of the way you will be pretty certain of your share."

"But I don't understand your game, Dr. Mackey. Why do you want Jack, if he doesn't care for you?"

"I love the boy, in spite of his actions. Besides, he must come with me in order that I may establish our joint right to a fortune which awaits us."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" questioned St. John, after a pause, during which Jack waited with bated breath for what might follow.

"Jack was picked up from a shipwreck nearly eleven years ago. He and his mother were taken to your aunt's home, and it was from this home that Jack's mother, my wife, was buried."

"Well?"

"I am quite certain that your aunt is keeping all of the things which were taken from my wife's person at the time of her death, and also the clothing Jack wore when he was rescued. I wish to obtain possession of those things, or, failing that, I want to get a minute description of them."

"Do you want me to get the things for you?"

"If you can."

"But my aunt may object to giving them up."

At this the face of Dr. Mackey fell.

"I'm afraid you don't quite understand me, Mr. Ruthven. I don't want your aunt to know anything about it."

"Oh!" St. John's face became a study. "You—er—you wish me to get the things on the sly?"

"Yes. You must remember they belong to me. But if you tell Mrs. Ruthven she will be sure to raise a big fuss, and that is what I wish to avoid."

"I don't see how I can get the things?"

"Can't you get your aunt or your cousin to show them to you? Then you can watch where they are put, and the rest ought to be easy."

"I'm afraid my aunt is very careful of the things. I have heard her say as much, to my cousin Marion."

"Well, you ought to take a little risk. Remember, it is to your interest to help me in establishing my claim to Jack."

"I'll do what I can," replied St. John, after a moment's consideration.

"I would like to get the things as soon as possible."

"I'll go over to my aunt's plantation the first thing in the morning. But she may not want to listen to me just now. She is extra busy, you know."

"With those wounded Confederate soldiers?"

"Not only with those, but she also has a Federal officer there—brought in a few days ago."

"A Federal officer? Does she sympathize with the North?"

"She does to some extent."

"Who is the fellow?"

"A Colonel Stanton."

At the mention of that name Dr. Mackey leaped up in alarm.

"What! that man—in her house!" he gasped.

"Do you know Colonel Stanton?"

"I—that is—I know of him. Is he badly wounded?"

"I think he is."

"I hope he dies then. He is—a—a—very bad customer to meet."

"I can't understand why my aunt makes so much of him."

"Tell me, has this Colonel Stanton met Jack?"

"Yes, they met some time ago, when the Yankees first came to this neighborhood."

"Ah!" Dr. Mackey drew a long breath. "I wonder what Jack thought of the colonel?"

"He likes the Yankee very much."

"Humph! Well, there is no accounting for tastes." Dr. Mackey pulled himself together with an effort. "If you see this Colonel Stanton don't tell him about me, or repeat anything I have said, will you?"

"I don't want to see the Yankee. I haven't any use for any of them."

"Colonel Stanton ought to be arrested as a spy. I know for a fact that he once entered our lines and reported our movements to his superiors. It would be a feather in your cap if you could have him arrested by the Confederate authorities."

"By Jove! do you really think that?" asked St. John, with renewed interest.

"I do."

"Then I'll report the case without delay. I thought he was something of a sneak the first time I saw him."

"If the South would hang him as a spy it would be a good job done."

"Would you be willing to appear against him?" asked St. John anxiously.

"Well—er—no, but I can bring two other men to appear."

"Then I'll surely have him arrested."

"And what about those things?"

"I will get them, if I possibly can."

A loud clap of thunder interrupted the conversation at this point, and when it was renewed the topic was not of special interest to Jack.

But our hero had heard enough to make him very thoughtful. Why had Dr. Mackey been so startled to learn that Colonel Stanton was at the Ruthven plantation, and why had he been so anxious to know if he and the colonel had met?

"Here's a fresh mystery," he told himself. "I must unravel it if I can."

"I am going to return home now," said St. John presently, when the storm seemed to be clearing away. "If I don't get back, my mother will be wondering what has become of me."

"All right," answered the doctor. "But let me hear from you by to-morrow night, sure."

"I will."

"And don't mention my name to Colonel Stanton."

"But if I have him arrested you will furnish those witnesses to the fact that he is a spy?"

"I will, rest assured on the point."

A little later St. John hurried off in the darkness. Dr. Mackey watched him go, and then began to pace the floor nervously.

Jack touched Old Ben on the shoulder.

"Wot am it, Massah Jack?" whispered the faithful old negro.

"Ben, we must make the surgeon a prisoner."

"All right, Ise ready to do my share."

"I am going to jump down on his back. You follow me with the gun."

"I will, Massah Jack."

The surgeon continued to pace the floor of the cabin, and, watching his chance, Jack crawled to the edge of the loft opening.

Just as Dr. Mackey swung around on his heel our hero gave a nimble leap and landed squarely on his shoulders, sending the surgeon to his knees.

"Hi, what's this?" spluttered the rascal, and tried to throw Jack off. But our hero clung as fast as grim death.

"It means that you are now my prisoner, Dr. Mackey."

"You!" ejaculated the astonished man. "Let me go, I say!" And he began to struggle more violently than ever.

But by this time Old Ben was on the floor, and the negro lost no time in poking the muzzle of the gun under the surgeon's nose. This brought Dr. Mackey to a standstill, and he glared at his opponents in amazement.

"Don't—don't shoot!" he gasped.

"Then keep quiet."

"How did you escape from the cave?"

"That is our business, Dr. Mackey. Will you submit, or not?"

"I suppose I'll have to submit. You are three to one." Columbus Washington was now beside Ben.

"Columbus, see if you can find a rope or a strap. We'll bind his hands behind him," went on Jack.

"What are you going to do with me?" questioned the surgeon anxiously.

"Put you where you deserve to be—behind the bars," was our hero's quiet, but firm, answer.

CHAPTER XXXI.

FATHER AND SON—CONCLUSION.

"Jack, do you mean to say you would put your own father in prison?" asked Dr. Mackey reproachfully, after Old Ben had tied his hands behind him.

"I would—were he such a fraud and villain as you, Dr.