Читать книгу Fighting Byng - A. Stone - Страница 6

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Byng stared hard for a moment, then his snapping eyes kindled and his face evidenced genuine delight as he recognized me. That his affection had endured there could be no doubt as he advanced with long, graceful strides to meet me. He grasped my hand with a tremendous squeeze of heartiness and I am bound to confess that as he stood before me I could see in the makings the refined Howard Byng—man of affairs.

"Mr. Wood!" he began, fervently pressing my hand, "there is no living person I would rather see than you. How did you get here? How did you find this jumping-off place? I can hardly believe it is you."

"Howard"—I hesitated, feasting my eyes upon him—"it was indeed something of an accident that brought me here."

"Well, suh, you are here and that's enough. I don't care how you got here, but I swear by the great horn spoon that you are not going to get away from me. I have waited too long for this meeting. Your bed, board, and comfort are provided for indefinitely." His eyes glittered, as he looked me full in the face and restrained the pent-up enthusiasm of his natural Southern hospitality. Then, affectionately he took my arm and led me into his office, a big, cheerful room, something of a library, suggesting comfort and refinement.

"For Heaven's sake, man, sit down and tell me all about it," said I, sinking into an inviting leather chair.

"These cigars are made especially for me," he exclaimed like an overjoyed boy as he passed the humidor, "but I can't say you'll like 'em."

"They are bound to be an improvement on the dog-leg twist you once offered me while we sat on the sled against the sap barrel," I suggested with a laugh.

"You remember that, too," said he, slapping his knee. "Well, suh, I have thought of it myself more'n a hundred times. Yes, suh, that all seems like many, many years ago, but I'll never forget it. You know it's mighty strange, and if I hadn't been a dunce I would have guessed you were around when I came out this mornin' and saw that strange boat, the copper 'still,' and the demijohns full of moonshine. My foreman told me where they cum from, but, of course, I nevah thought of you havin' anything to do with it. Strange, too, for I have sorter been thinking about you the last three or four days."

"It's the old story—think hard and——"

"Yes, suh, and, doggone it all, I knew you tole me you were going into the revenue when you left me in Savannah. I've been in Washington two or three times and tried to find you. I nevah once thought of you in connection with this local matter. What a fool!" he exclaimed, his eyes gloating upon me from his comfortable chair across the big flat desk between us.

He did not speak grammatically as yet, but there were signs of improvement, and the effort in that direction was apparent.

"You know," he went on, delightedly, "there must have been something wrong with me. I wanted to find you the worst way, and I thought I looked around all right, when I went there—I mean to the revenue office in Washington. First a boy would ask me questions, then a man, then another man, and then about the time I thought I was going to get somewhere they would tell me there was no such person there. Do you suppose they thought I was a moonshiner just finished a long term, and was gunnin' for the man who put me in?" he concluded, with a dry little laugh.

I had to explain that for our safety in private life operatives were known to everyone but the chiefs by a number—and sometimes by another name. The office never divulges the real names, private addresses, or where we work. Here we were interrupted by the entrance of an old-time darkey.

"Yes, Marse Howard," said he cheerfully, in answer to the button.

"Uncle George," began Howard Byng, with his soul shining in his eyes, "a prodigal has returned. We ain't got any fatted calf to kill, but we have got food, and plenty of it. Bring us something so that we may eat and make merry,—and then prepare the guest cabin. Didn't I tell you when we finished it that we would have use for it soon?" All this in a fatherly manner toward the old servant.

"Now, Mr. Wood, I've got you in a corner. First I want to know how long you can stay with me. You show up just when I need you, and excuses don't go."

His cordiality was so real that I felt glad I had cleaned up my last matter for the "Excise" ahead of time and was not due to report to the new division for several weeks. Indeed it seemed good to be able to acquiesce for I could readily see that his isolation intensified an otherwise normal desire for companionship. And there did appear to be something on which he needed advice or a side light. He was as delighted as a young boy when I said if I could establish communication with Washington I might stay on for several days.

"Good—fine!" he exclaimed, and, slapping me on the back, arose to move a reading lamp and clear the center of the desk for the food.

"I finally got a long-distance wire in here and am open to the world now," said he happily. "Do you know you took a big chance leaving those jugs of moonshine in that open boat? If I hadn't seen and put 'em away you'd 'a' had none left and my works would have stopped. Niggers, and white men, too, for that matter, do love moonshine. I've seen that boat pass here lots of times and wondered how long they'd run."

"All I was thinking about was getting those men off my hands," I replied. Then I related, briefly, how I happened to find their "look-out" while in a stupor, and of my sensations when I imagined I saw Howard himself inside the "still" house, and how, through luck, I had surprised and stunned them by using dynamite. He expressed great wonder at my escape and showed intense eagerness to hear every little detail of my experiences.

"Well, suh, you have performed the well-nigh impossible. And that is because you went at it just right. To men living in these swamps, where you never hear anything louder than a bull frog, a rifle shot is a terrific report, but when you let loose a real noise, blow in the whole side of their dug-out and let stumps roll in on them as you say, they couldn't help but give up. Those varmints have been here for a long time. They are bad men. You know moonshiners ain't always bad when you know 'em. That old jail down there was built before the revolution, an' they've got friends that hate the law. These people along this river are two hundred years behind the times, just like—just like I was when you found me in the turpentine woods, an' I would have been there yit if it wasn't for you. You know that!" he exclaimed. "An' you were right when you thought I might be moonshinin'. How I kept out of it I don't know for I hated the law, too, then. They argue that whiskey was made a long time, a hundred years or more, without tax, and ought to be free yit. And that feeling ag'in' the law is fierce, and these people are awful spiteful when they're ag'in' anything. You can hardly understand it unless—unless you've been one of 'em, like I have."

He was interrupted by the old black servant, who covered the desk with linen on which he placed platters of cold meat, wild honey and biscuits. Except for the slight vibration and hum of the big paper plant, I could easily have imagined myself lunching in the library of a Fifth Avenue home.

"Now," resumed Byng, after we had drawn up, "I used to like moonshine, but somehow I don't care for it any more. But this elderberry juice—woods stuff, too," said he, pulling a cork from a bottle, "is mighty fine. No kick in it especially, but just as good, and I want to tell you how near I came to being a moonshiner myself right where you found your gang."

"I am eager to hear it, Howard," said I laughingly, "and I won't turn it in at headquarters, either."

"You know," said he, "when you left me there in Savannah, and your steamer got out of sight, I felt pretty bad. You taught me to read and write and gave me an idea about things outside. You were my friend. You may not know exactly how a Georgia Cracker sticks to his friends. Well, when I couldn't see you any more, I went over behind a pile of cotton bales, laid down and began to beller just like a kid, or a fool. Then it seemed to me that I wanted to die. The world had come to an end for me an' I didn't care a damn if I died on the spot. Some men came along and said, 'See the Cracker with a cryin' jag.' Do you know what a 'bellering jag' is? Well, when there is a funeral down here there's usually plenty of moonshine. Some want to holler, some want to shoot, and most of the wimmen get on a 'bellering jag.' I thought of that. Then I began to wonder what I was blubberin' about anyhow. Certain it wasn't for you. Then it came into my fool head that I was jest sorry and bellerin' for myself. Why should I be sorry for myself? I had two good legs, two good arms, and two good eyes. So I got up and walked away. You told me what to do an' I was going to do it. Then I came back here—not exactly here, but back to the old camp we had just left. Finally I did find some land I could buy, not very much, but it had an old turpentine 'still' on it, right here on this spot we are now sitting. I built this building so my office would be where I had made my first experiment—just as you told me to."

"Evidently you prospered from the jump," said I, looking about the big, well-finished room.

"No, suh, at first I didn't get anything. I was tired and mad. I came near cussin' you for telling me to spend my money for nuthin'. The moonshiners found I was all right, and offered to help me start, and several times I was just going to do it, but somehow I couldn't. You may not believe it, but when I was ready to go moonshinin', you just stood in front of me. I could feel you touch my arm, and point to the old turpentine still. You made me go ahead, an', after I worked and worked, thought and thought, I found out how to work it. I struck it right. I discovered the secret of makin' turpentine and rosin from these here stumps, and paper from what's left—and you stood right here and laughed with me, and was as glad as I was. And nobody has yet found out how I do it, and they ain't going to. I'm twenty years ahead of 'em. Sneaks come here to find out but I spot 'em quick and kick 'em out. I'll tell you the secret because you made me do it. Now, suh, jest tell me what it was that kept me from making moonshine, and made me go ahead as I did. To-morrow, when it's light, I'll show it all to you. It ain't much, but I've made friends in Savannah and New York where I sell and buy my supplies. I have a nice little plant that's making money, and the moonshiners have gone to prison. That's enough fur to-night. You had no sleep last night an' I'm going to put you to bed. Come on."

As we parted at my cabin door Howard Byng put his long arms about me and gave me a tight squeeze.