Читать книгу The Bradys Out West; or Winning A Hard Case - Francis Worcester Doughty - Страница 6

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Young King Brady regretted his hasty question almost as soon as he uttered it.

But the hermit was affected only a moment.

Then he said:

“It is a story which I may not tell. I was once of the world as worldly as you. But sin and trouble and misery has brought me to this.”

“I ask your pardon,” said the young detective. “The question was made on impulse and——”

The hermit put up his hand.

“You have a right to ask,” he said with a pleasant smile. “And I am glad to answer.”

“Has not life seemed dreary to you in these wilds?”

“To me life has been a question of physical existence. I have had to devote most of my time to the chase.”

“That is nomadic.”

“Yes, and strangely fascinating. I have been nearer to Nature’s heart than the ordinary man. And I tell you that you men of worldly wisdom know little of her grand secrets.”

“That is true,” agreed Old King Brady.

“There are grand and awful things in nature,” said the hermit. “Only life close to her, as mine has been, can prove this fact. I would not exchange my knowledge of her wonders for the greatest fortune and the highest position on earth.”

“Very good!” agreed the detective. “I cannot wonder. But do not the denizens of these hills ever trouble you?”

Milo looked furtively at the detective.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Of whom do you speak?”

“The Indians.”

“Ah! they are my friends. They are the true children of Nature. They know me as a friend. No, I have never a quarrel with them.”

“But the road agents, or outlaws. Do not Captain Vail’s men come here?”

The hermit’s eyes flashed.

“Nothing would reward them for their pains.”

“Yet they are villains, and malice might prompt them to do you harm.”

“I do not fear them,” replied the hermit. “Once Vail himself came here. I fed him and was kind to him, for he was wounded from a fight with a bear. His men do not trouble me.”

“Is his stronghold near?”

The detectives waited with tense nerves for this answer.

Each instinctively hoped at that moment that it would be what they most desired.

But the hermit only said:

“I have never seen their home, nor do I know where it is located.”

Further inquiry was of no avail.

It would not do for the detectives to disclose their identity.

Persistent questioning might arouse the suspicion of the old man.

They knew this well.

For aught they knew he might be in league with the outlaws, or at least in sympathy with them.

So very guardedly the detectives changed the subject.

But they were satisfied of one thing. The stronghold of Mosely and the probable hiding place of Helen May was not far distant.

The sun had dropped in the western sky.

Night would soon be at hand, and the detectives knew that it would be of little use to continue the quest much further after dark.

So they conferred while the hermit was in his cabin.

“Why not stay here to-night?” asked Young King Brady. “We can go on in the morning.”

“It is not a bad idea.”

“I believe it is best.”

“Will he keep us?”

“We can ask him.”

When Milo reappeared Old King Brady said:

“Good hermit, we are weary, and done with our day’s wanderings. We feel hardly able to find our way after dark. May we not stop with you to-night?”

The hermit bowed graciously.

“You are welcome,” he said.

“We will gladly pay——”

Milo turned almost fiercely.

“It is not yours to pay,” he cried forcibly. “But, gods! What we do for our fellow men we should look only to the Great Father for reward.”

The Bradys were silenced.

There was something grand and magnificent in the simple theories and utterances of this exile.

They felt instantly a profound respect, mingled with awe.

Milo quickly put them at ease by exhibiting his trained crow and displaying the curious antics of his cub bear.

The detectives were highly entertained until darkness shut down and night fell upon the country.

Then, as the air was chilly in this altitude, the hermit made a bit of a hearth fire with birchen wood, and in the little cabin they made themselves comfortable.

At an early hour the two detectives climbed up onto a bit of scaffolding overhead and lay down upon a couch of hemlock boughs covered with bear skin.

From this position they could look down into the room below.

Milo sat crooning and psalm singing over his fire.

The Bradys had just lapsed into a doze, when suddenly a curious whistle was heard outside the hut.

Then the tramp of horses’ feet and the murmur of voices.

It need hardly be said that in a moment the detectives were wide awake.

They felt instinctively for their pistols.

It began to look as if there was trouble ahead.

“Who can it be?” asked Young King Brady in a whisper.

“Who but Vail or his men?”

Milo had started up from the fire.

Old King Brady leaned over the edge of the loft and whispered:

“Good hermit, betray us not to those outside. They seek our lives!”

Milo looked startled, but replied with a nod.

Then there came a vigorous rap on the door.

“Who comes to my humble dwelling at this unseemly hour?” hoarsely asked the hermit.

“It is a friend,” was the reply.

“A friend will give his name.”

“And an honest man will never fear a visitor.”

“I am an honest man.”

“Then open.”

“But I know not that you are also honest.”

A harsh laugh followed this.

“Come, old man, open up, or we’ll hamstring you and leave you to rot. No fooling! You saved my life once, but I believe you are a traitor.”

“It is he whom God can only despise as a robber of other men,” said Milo fearlessly. “I have nothing to fear from such as you. Enter!”

The hermit flung the door open.

A man, tall, and dressed in a dark cloak, boots and a slouch hat, entered.

It was Captain Vail.

He glanced about the cabin.

Then he struck an attitude and gazed at Milo.

“I can see that you are not more inclined than ever to bridle your tongue, old man,” he said.

“I am the guardian of my speech,” replied Milo.

“That may be, but fools only speak their mind at all times. I could hang you up by the heels if I chose.”

“You will be hung over Hades that way if you do not abandon your lawless life,” replied Milo. “Repent while there is yet time.”

“Spare your preaching!” said Vail with a curse. “I have come here for a purpose.”

The hermit folded his arms.

“You will not gain it,” he said.

“What? You know what it is?”

“You suspect me.”

“Well, of what?”

“Of conspiring against you.”

Vail was surprised.

“Well, that is a good guess. How did you find it out?”

“I have read it in your face.”

“I believe you deal in witchcraft.”

The hermit looked contempt.

“But, seriously,” said Vail, “two men were seen to come here to-day by our scouts.”

“Yes, two men came here,” replied the hermit.

“Ah, you admit it!”

“I do.”

“Who were they, and what was their errand?”

“I never ask any person their business.”

“Ah, but you have an idea!”

“Well, then, they are honest miners who lost their way.”

Vail seemed relieved.

“Then they did not wear long gray coats and wear broad hats? They were not Quakers?”

“They did not answer that description.”

“Where are they now?”

“I cannot tell.”

Vail seemed to change his manner at once. He assumed a less censorious tone, and said:

“You will pardon me, Milo; but I am on the lookout for a couple of rogues who are trying to work evil against me. They are detectives, and were suspected of being on the Red Cliff coach in the guise of Quakers. It is known that no Quakers arrived on the coach at Red Cliff.”

“There are no Quakers here.”

“Ah, well, that settles it, then,” said Vail, turning to the door. “I shall disturb you no more.”

He went out and closed the door. The rattle of bits and bridle reins could be heard outside.

Milo’s head was bowed as if in prayer.

Then he looked up to the scaffold and whispered:

“I told no lie by speech, but I evaded his question. It may be deception, but the Father will hold it no misdemeanor.”

“You have saved our lives,” whispered Old King Brady.

“They are your foes?”

“Yes.”

“And you are really detectives?”

“We are.”

At that moment the door swung open again.

Captain Vail strode in.

“We are not satisfied,” he said. “My men must search your hut.”

Milo the Hermit towered aloft like a giant.

What answer he might have made was never known. At that moment a most startling and unlooked-for thing occurred.

It was of a nature to precipitate serious results.