"Now," said the Indian, turning to Ernest, "take off your wet clothes."
Though Ernest knew that it was wise to do so, he felt bashful aboutremoving them in presence of the woman. But his Indian host brought from anail on which they hung a pair of buckskin breeches of his own and offeredthem to Ernest for temporary use.
Ernest no longer hesitated, but made the substitution.
As the Indian was four or five inches taller than himself, the legscovered his feet. He laughed as he saw how they looked, and the Indian'sserious face relaxed a little from the same cause.
"Now I will dry your clothes," he said.
He took a chair and, hanging the wet garments over the back, placed itvery near the stove. Ernest hardly liked to lose so much time, but he knewthat it would not be safe to wear the trousers in their soaked condition.
"You speak English very well," he said, turning to the Indian.
"Yes; I have spent much time with white people," was the answer.
"Do you support yourself by hunting?" went on Ernest.
"Yes, I am a hunter, but I go with rich white people from the cities andwith Englishmen who want a guide."
"And do they pay you well?" asked Ernest, not quite sure whether he wasnot showing too much curiosity.
"Yes, they pay me well. I have some money in the bank."
Then Ernest remembered having seen the Indian one day at the bank. He wastold at the time that his name was John Castro, and that he had severalhundred dollars on deposit.
CHAPTER XV
JOHN CASTRO
While Ernest's clothes were drying the Indian woman was bustling about thestove. The boy did not suspect her object till she placed on the table aplate of Indian cakes hot from the oven and he was invited to partake.
It was the first time he had ever been a guest in an Indian family, and hehesitated, but saw that his refusal to partake might hurt the feelings ofhis new friends. He seated himself at the table, and found the cakesreally very good.
When his clothes were dry he rose to go.
"Won't you stay all night?" asked Castro.
"Thank you. I cannot spare the time. I must push on."
"Where are you going?" asked the Indian.
"To Lee's Falls."
"I will go with you a short distance."
So they set out together.
At length John Castro stopped.
"That is your way," he said. "I wish you a pleasant journey. I will notforget what you have done for my little son. If ever you are in troublesend for John Castro."
"I thank you."
The Indian shook hands with him gravely and turned back toward his cabin.
All this had taken time. Ernest had no watch with him, but he estimatedthat the adventure had cost him two hours. However, he had saved a boy'slife.
Again he had made a friend. The friend was an Indian, but Ernest was wiseenough to consider that no friend, however humble, is to be despised.
It was clear that he would reach his destination late, and he began towish that some carriage would overtake him in which he might ask for aride.
But he walked two miles farther without encountering any team. At last,however, he heard the rumble of wheels, and turning round to see whetherthere was room in the vehicle, he saw that it was a buggy driven by atall, thin man with dark hair, swarthy face and a long, aquiline nose.
The driver eyed Ernest sharply and brought the buggy to a standstill.
"Where are you going, boy?" he asked.
"To Lee's Falls."
"Where have you come from?"
"From Emmonsville."
"It is a long walk."
"Yes. Do you think you could give me a lift?"
"Perhaps so. Jump in."
Ernest lost no time in availing himself of the invitation.
"Where were you going in Lee's Falls?" he asked.
Ernest felt that it would be imprudent to mention that his destination wasthe bank, so he answered guardedly, "I am going to see the town. I maystop overnight."
"At the hotel?"
"Yes."
"It is not much of a place to see," said the driver, watching hiscompanion curiously.
"It is larger than Emmonsville, isn't it?"
"Yes. How long have you been in Emmonsville?"
"Not long."
"Where do you live there?"
"At Mrs. Larkins'."
"Do you go to school?"
"No."
Meanwhile the horse was traveling very slowly, and it seemed to Ernestthat he would go over the road quite as fast if he had continued to walk.He began to think it was his turn to ask questions.
"Are you going all the way to Lee's Falls?" he asked.
"I may go nearly there."
"I am very much obliged to you for giving me a lift. I was quite tired."
The driver smiled.
"Perhaps I have an object," he said.
Ernest looked an inquiry.
"The pleasure of your company," explained his companion with a smile.
"Thank you," answered Ernest.
"Now I come to look at you, I think I have seen you before," continued thedriver.
"Where?"
"In Emmonsville--at the bank."
Ernest became alarmed. There was a significance in his companion's tonewhich excited his alarm. But he did not dare show his feelings. Heremained outwardly calm, though inwardly disturbed.
"Very probably," he said; "I have been there."
His companion laughed. He was playing with the boy as a cat plays with acaptive mouse. Ernest began to consider whether he could not think of somepretext for getting out of the buggy.
Suddenly the buggy stopped.
"I will get out here," said Ernest quickly.
"Not quite yet. I have not got through questioning you."
"I am in a hurry," said Ernest.
"You must wait till your hurry is over. Now tell me truly, are you notbound for the Lee's Falls bank?"
Ernest was startled.
"You see, I know more about you than you suppose. You are the bankmessenger."
It seemed useless to deny it. The question now was, was his secret packetin danger?
"I have sometimes acted as bank messenger," he said warily.
"And you are acting in that capacity now. What are you taking to the Lee'sFalls bank?"
Ernest turned pale. His worst fears were confirmed.
"Why do you ask?" he said.
"Because I want to know."
"What business can it be of yours?" demanded Ernest boldly.
"Don't be impudent, boy! Hand me the package of money."
"I have no package of money."
"Then you have bonds."
Ernest remained silent.
"I see that I have hit it. Now hand over the bonds, if you value yourlife."
He spoke sternly and looked so fierce that the boy messenger became moreand more alarmed. He saw that he must give up the package, but determinedto hold out in his resistance as long as possible.
"The package is not mine, and I have no right to surrender it," he said.
"I'll take the responsibility, boy. You can't be blamed, for you can'thelp yourself."
As he spoke he passed his hand over Ernest's vest, which he saw projectedmore than was usual, and discovered the hiding place of the importantpackage.
Instantly he had torn open the vest and drawn out the envelope.
"I thought I should find it," he said in a tone of triumph.
Ernest felt very much dejected. It was a mortification to lose the firstlarge sum with which he had been intrusted.
"Will you tell me who you are?" he asked abruptly.
"First let me know who you think I am."
As the driver spoke he eyed Ernest sharply.
"Is your name Fox?" asked the young messenger.
His companion laughed.
"I know Mr. Fox," he answered.
"You are either Fox or a member of his band."
> "You seem to be a sharp boy; I won't tell you whether you are right ornot."
"I suppose I may go now?"
"Where do you want to go?"
Ernest hesitated. This was a question which he could not at once answer.To go on to Lee's Falls without the packet would do little good. Yet thebank officers there ought to know that the bonds intended for them hadbeen stolen.
"I will go to Lee's Falls," he said.
"Not at present; I have other views for you." As he spoke the robberturned his horse to the right. Wholly ignorant as to where he was to becarried, Ernest sank back in his seat and resigned himself as well as hecould to the situation.
CHAPTER XVI
IN THE OUTLAW'S HOME
Where he was to be carried or what was to be his fate, Ernest could notconjecture, nor did he speculate much. It was enough for him to know thathe was in the power of one of the notorious outlaws.
There was considerable difference between his appearance and that of theman at his side. He was silent and depressed, while James Fox, for it washe, seemed in excellent spirits. He turned to the boy with the remark:"You don't say much."
"No, for it would be no good."
"Brace up, boy! There is no occasion to look as if you were going to afuneral."
"Give me back the bonds and I will look lively enough."
"Come now, don't be foolish. These bonds don't belong to you."
"They were given into my care."
"Very well! You took as good care of them as you could."
"I shall be held responsible for them."
"No, you won't. I shall send your employers a letter letting them knowthat you did the best you could to keep them out of my hands. But perhapsthey never heard of me," and he laughed.
"If your name is Fox they have heard of you."
"There is no need to beat about the bush. My name is Fox--James Fox."
"What made you take up such a business, Mr. Fox?" asked Ernest gravely.
"Well, I like that! You, a kid, undertake to lecture me."
"You were once a kid yourself."
The outlaw's face grew grave suddenly and his tone became thoughtful.
"Yes, I was a kid once. At sixteen--is that your age?"
"Yes."
"Well, at sixteen I was as innocent as you. I had a good mother then. Ifshe had lived perhaps I would have turned out different. Why, it seems agreat joke, doesn't it. I attended Sunday-school till I was fifteen. Areyou afraid that you will come to harm?"
Ernest looked intently in the brigand's face.
"No," he said, after a pause. "I think you won't do me any more harm. Butyou can do me a great favor."
"What is that--return you the bonds?"
"I would ask that if I thought you would do it, but I don't expect it. Ishould like to have you release me and let me go home."
"I can't do that, for I want you to visit me. You may not think it, but Ialways liked young people. It will be quite a pleasure to me to have youfor a visitor."
"Thank you, but I am afraid that I shall become an unwilling guest."
"Besides, it will be a pleasure to my little boy to meet you. He does notoften meet other boys."
"Have you a son?" asked Ernest in surprise.
The outlaw's face softened.
"Yes," he answered. "He is a sweet little boy, as I can say even if he ismy son. His name is Frank. Would you like to see his picture?"
"Yes," answered Ernest, with interest.
James Fox drew from an inner pocket a small card photograph of a young boywith a very winning face. Ernest was attracted, for unlike many boys ofhis age he liked younger children. He looked at the picture long andearnestly.
"It is a sweet face," he said at last.
"Isn't it?" asked the proud father.
"Is his mother living?"
"No."
"Was there no difficulty in getting it taken?"
"I suppose you mean on account of my profession. Well, there might bearound here, but this was taken in Minneapolis--about a year ago. It wasone of the few visits that Frank has made with me."
"Are you going to bring him up to your business?"
"Take care, boy!" said the outlaw, frowning. "Don't be impertinent."
"I don't mean to be. Do you think the question an improper one?"
"Well, perhaps I have no right to think so. Somehow the business, thoughit seems all right to me, I couldn't think of for my boy. No, I shall soonplace him at school, where no one will know that he is related to thecelebrated outlaw. I want him brought up to lead an honest life."
"I am glad you do. I respect you for that."
"My lad, you seem to be one of the right sort. As you will see my son Iwant you to promise me that you won't say a word about the business I amengaged in."
"I will make that promise. Then the boy doesn't know?"
"No, he has no suspicion. He is too young to think much about that.Perhaps if he had associated with other boys much he would have foundout."
While this conversation was going on they had entered a wood, and the roadbecame wilder and rougher. Indeed, it was hardly a road, but rather alane, narrow and grass-grown.
Ernest began to wonder in what sort of a home his companion lived. Hisevident affection for his son gave Ernest a different feeling toward him.It was plain that he had a softer side to his nature, bandit though hewas.
Ernest had never read the story of Jekyll and Hyde, but he feltinstinctively that the man beside him had a double nature. On the road hewas an outlaw, with corresponding traits, a rough and unscrupulous man,but at home and in the presence of his son, as Ernest judged, he was awarm-hearted and affectionate father.
In truth, the young bank messenger looked forward with interest to ameeting with the boy who was so dear to the heart of a man whom the worldgenerally supposed to be a stranger to the softer emotions.
At length they reached a rocky hillside. Here the outlaw pulled up hishorse and jumped from the buggy. Ernest looked at him in a questioningway.
"You can get out," he said. "We have arrived."
Ernest alighted and looked about him. He naturally expected to see adwelling of some kind, but there was none in sight. If it was at adistance, why should they not have driven to it?
James Fox looked at him with a smile, enjoying his perplexity.
From his pocket he drew a large silk handkerchief.
"Come here, my boy," he said.
Ernest did not quite understand what he proposed to do, but he felt betteracquainted with the outlaw now, and he knew that there was no cause forapprehension. He accordingly approached without question.
James Fox bandaged his eyes so that he could see nothing. Then he took himby the hand and led him forward.
Ernest could not tell what was being done, but he found himself walking ona rocky path, hand in hand with his guide. How far he walked he could nottell. It might have been two hundred feet. Then his guide stopped, and ofcourse he stopped too.
Next the handkerchief was removed and he found himself in what seemed arocky cavern. At any rate it was a large room of irregular shape, but thestone floor had been made smooth and was covered by a soft carpet. It wasfurnished like a sitting-room in a private house. There were comfortablechairs, including a rocking-chair and a capacious armchair. On one side ofthe room was an inviting-looking couch.
Of course there would have been perfect darkness but for artificial light.On a table was a large student's lamp and in a niche in the wall wasanother. Besides this there was a lantern hanging from the roof of thechamber, but this was not lighted.
Ernest looked about him with curiosity and surprise. It was something newto him and recalled a story he had once read in which a cave dwelling wasdescribed.
"Well, what do you think of it?" asked the outlaw, smiling.
"It is wonderful," said Ernest.
"You did not know where I was bringing you?"
"No. It is a cave, is it not?"
"Well, it looks like it."<
br />
"There are other rooms, are there not?"
"Yes, but this is my private apartment; my parlor, you may call it. Thisis my sleeping room."
He drew aside the hangings on the farther side and revealed an innerchamber of less size.
On a bed Ernest's attention was drawn to the figure of a sleepingboy--evidently the original of the picture which the outlaw had shownhim.
"That is your son?" asked Ernest.
"Yes, that is Frank."
The outlaw's stern countenance softened as he regarded the sleeping boy.
Suddenly the boy stirred; he opened his eyes and when he recognized hisfather a glad smile lighted up his innocent face.
"Papa!" he said, and James Fox bent over and kissed him.
CHAPTER XVII
FRANK
After kissing his father the young boy looked inquisitively at Ernest.
"Who is that boy, papa?" he asked.
"I have brought him here to stay with you. Shall you like to have hiscompany?"
"Yes, papa. You know it is very lonely while you are away. What is hisname?"
The outlaw looked at Ernest significantly. He took the hint and answered:"My name is Ernest Ray."
"How old are you, Ernest?" went on the boy.
"Sixteen."