"Ernest is reading to me. Why don't you ever read to me, Juba?"
"O lor', chile, you know I can't read."
"But why can't you read? You're old enough."
"Yes, honey, I'm old enough, but I never had no chance to learn."
"Why didn't you?" persisted Frank. "Didn't you go to school when you waslittle?"
"No, chile, never went to school. They didn't have no schools where I wasraised."
"Where was that?"
"In ole Virginny."
"Were you a slave, Juba?" asked Ernest.
"Yes, massa, I was a slave."
"And how did you get here?"
"It was all along of the war. Ole massa he went to the war and got killed.Then young massa went, and he got killed, too. Then one day there came anofficer--one of Abe Linkum's officers--and he told us we were free andmight go where we pleased."
"Weren't you glad to be free?" asked Ernest.
"No, honey, we didn't know where to go nor what to do. We'd allus had someone to look after us, but now there wasn't anybody."
"Were you married, Juba?"
"Yes, but I don't know whether my ole man is livin' or not. He was solddown in Georgie to a cousin of ole massa."
"Then he may be living yet?"
"Yes, honey."
"How old are you, Juba?" asked Frank.
"I don't know, chile. I's powerful old. S'pecs I's a hundred."
Ernest smiled.
"No, Juba," he said, "you are not nearly a hundred. You may be sixty."
"Juba, did you ever hear about Uncle Tom?"
"Yes, chile, I knew Uncle Tom," was the unexpected reply. "He was raisedon Mr. Jackson's place next to ours."
Ernest asked some question about this Uncle Tom, but learned, as heexpected, that it was quite a different person from the negro immortalizedby Mrs. Stowe.
In looking over Frank's books Ernest found an old copy of "Uncle Tom'sCabin," and taking it down he read some portions, particularly thoserelating to Topsy. Both Frank and Juba were very much entertained.
"Did you know Topsy, Juba?" asked Frank.
"No, chile, never knowed Topsy. She must have been a no-account youngnigga. If she'd lived on our plantation she'd have got flogged for herimpudence."
"How did you come here, Juba?" asked Frank.
"One of them officers took me to Chicago. I lived out with a lady, butwhen she died, I went to a 'telligence office and there I met your papa.He brought me out here. I didn't at first like livin' down under theground, but I don't mind it now. Massa Fox treats me well, and I ain't nowish to change."
This was the substance of what Juba had to communicate. The rest of theday passed quietly. At nightfall James Fox came home, looking very sober.But he came alone.
CHAPTER XX
ERNEST EXPLORES THE CAVE
James Fox had very little to say during the evening. He was evidentlypreoccupied and anxious and paid scant attention to the boys.
Frank knew so little of his father's business or occupation that he couldconceive of no cause for worriment. When his advances met with littleresponse he asked: "Have you got a headache, papa?"
"No--yes, child. My head troubles me some. Be as quiet as you can."
"Will it disturb you if I play checkers with Ernest, papa?"
"No, I should like to have you amuse yourself," answered the outlaw.
He directed the boys to go to bed early. They slept together and he threwhimself on the lounge without taking off his clothes.
Ernest slept well. When he woke up at eight o'clock he saw that Frank wasstill sleeping, but his host was already up.
Juba came into the room.
"Get up, children," she said. "Breakfast is ready."
"Where is papa?" asked Frank.
"He took breakfast an hour ago, honey."
"What made him get up so early?"
"'Portant business called him away."
"Where's Uncle John?"
"He hasn't been home."
"Has he got 'portant business too?"
"'Specs he has, honey."
"It doesn't seem nice to take breakfast without papa," said the littleboy.
"You may consider me your papa, Frank," observed Ernest.
"But you're not big enough to be a papa."
When breakfast was over there was the long day before them to be filled upin some way.
"Don't you ever wish to go out of the cave, Frank?" asked Ernest.
"Where?" asked the little boy.
"Into the bright sunshine, out on the green grass and under the trees."
"Yes, I think I should like it," answered Frank thoughtfully. "But papadoes not want me to go. I don't know why. Do many little boys live incaves like me?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Can they walk about in the sunshine and play?"
"I always did."
"Do you like it better than living here?"
"Yes."
"Then what made you come here?"
This was an embarrassing question and Ernest felt that he must answercarefully.
"Your papa wanted me to make you a visit," he replied after a pause.
"And I am glad you came. It isn't so lonely for me. Before I had onlyJuba."
"Wouldn't she play with you?" asked Ernest with a smile.
"Juba is too old to play. I hope you will stay with me a good while."
Ernest could not echo this wish, so he answered evasively:
"I can't tell yet how long I shall stay. But the time will come when youwill leave the cave and live like other little boys in a house."
"Did papa tell you that?"
"He told me that he should send you to school before long."
"What is a school like?" asked the little boy anxiously.
"There will be a good many boys, some older, some younger than yourself.You will study lessons together and play together."
"I think that will be nice."
"Yes, I am sure you will enjoy it."
"Did you ever go to school?"
"Oh, yes; I went to school for some years."
"Perhaps you will go to school with me?"
"I can't tell," answered Ernest vaguely. "Perhaps Juba will go to schoolwith you."
Frank laughed.
"She would look funny going to school," he said.
"What's dat you sayin' 'bout Juba, Massa Ernest?" asked the old woman.
"I told Frank you might go to school with him."
"Maybe I'd go and take care of him, honey."
"But you wouldn't want to study?"
"I wouldn't study nohow. I's a poor, ignorant nigger."
"Don't you think you could learn to read?"
"No, I couldn't. It takes white folks to read."
"No; Juba, when I went to school there was a colored boy in my class, andhe was one of the smartest scholars we had."
"And was he a nigger?" asked Juba.
"We didn't call him that, but he was a colored boy. If he could learn toread I am sure you could."
"It's no use, chile. I'm too old now."
Much as he liked Frank, it was irksome to Ernest to remain all day in thecave.
They got through the forenoon somehow, taking dinner at twelve o'clock.
About two o'clock Frank complained of being sleepy.
"You won't mind if I go to sleep for an hour, Ernest?" he said.
"Oh, no," answered Ernest. "I can read."
Since his exploration of the day before Ernest had been longing to visitonce more the same portion of the cave. But he wanted to go alone. He hada hope that through the aperture in the roof he might effect his escape.It would not do to have Frank with him, as this would interfere with hisplan. Now the longed-for opportunity was almost at hand.
He took a volume from the bookshelf and sitting down beside the bed beganto read. But his mind was not on the book, though at another time he wouldhave enjoyed it. He watched Frank and in less than fifteen minutes sawthat he was fast asleep.
; Then he left the room, Juba being occupied in the kitchen. He secured hishat, as he would need it in case he effected his escape.
As he passed through that apartment in the cave where there were trunksand boxes it occurred to him to open one of them. He was rather surprisedthat it should be unlocked.
It was filled with a miscellaneous assortment of articles, but on top tohis surprise and joy he recognized the envelope containing the bonds thathad been taken from him.
If he left the cave he would want these, and therefore he had nohesitation in taking them. He put them in the inside pocket of his vestand kept on his way.
In a short time he reached the spot lighted by the aperture in the roof.
The opening was large enough for him to get through, but the difficultywas that it was fifteen feet above the floor of the cave. Ernest wassomething of a gymnast, but it was out of his power to reach the openingthrough which he could obtain deliverance.
He looked about to see if there were any articles he could pile upon oneanother to attain the aperture. But the cave was quite empty of articlesof any description, nor could he find any that he could move in theportions which he had already traversed.
It was aggravating to be so near freedom and yet unable to obtain it. Justabove him, he could see the blue sky and the cheerful sunshine, while hewas a prisoner in a dark cavern.
Was there no way of reaching the opening? he asked himself.
If he had to give up hope he would feel obliged to return the envelope tothe box from which he had taken it. Were its loss discovered he would ofcourse be searched and kept in stricter seclusion than before.
In the room used by the outlaw as a sitting-room he might be able to findwhat he needed. But he could not remove anything without being detected,and should he return there he would possibly find Frank awake, which wouldspoil all.
It looked as if he would have to give up the chance that had come to him.In thoughtful mood he walked slowly back. All at once an idea struck him.In the room where the trunks and boxes were stored he had seen a longrope. Could he do anything with it?
Looking up at the aperture he noticed a jagged projection on one side.
"If I could attach the rope to that," he reflected, "I could draw myselfup hand over hand till I reached the top, and then it would go hard if Ididn't get out."
With new hope in his heart he retraced his steps rapidly till he reachedthe storeroom.
He knew just where to look for the rope. He examined it carefully andfound it very stout and strong.
He took it back with him. Then making a loop at one end he stood under theopening and threw it up as he would a lasso. He had to try a dozen timesbefore he contrived to circle the projection with the loop.
Then pulling it taut he began to climb hand over hand as he had many atime done in sport. Now his deliverance depended upon it.
Slowly, foot by foot, he approached the opening, not knowing whether if hereached it he would be able to draw himself through the hole.
CHAPTER XXI
OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN
Arrived at the opening, Ernest found that there was a trap-door, whichthrough carelessness had been left open. It was, however, a seriousproblem to draw himself up so as to profit by what he had already done.
Twice he failed and nearly lost his grip on the rope. Then he caught holdof the projection from which the rope depended, and by a supreme effort hesucceeded, helping himself by means of the trap-door in emerging from hissubterranean prison.
Stretching himself he took a deep breath and realized joyfully not onlythat he was free, but that he had recovered the valuable bonds of which hehad been placed in charge.
He began to look around him and tried to conjecture in what direction hemust go to reach Lee's Falls. He was quite at a loss, as he had beencarried into the cave blindfolded. But help seemed to be at hand. He sawat a little distance, rapidly approaching him, a man of middle height whomhe concluded to be a resident of some place in the vicinity.
"Can you tell me in what direction I must go to reach Lee's Falls?" heasked.
The stranger paused and examined him.
"So you want to go to Lee's Falls?" he said.
"Yes, sir."
"Where do you come from?"
"From Emmonsville."
"Direct?"
"No."
"I saw you just now coming out of some opening in the earth."
This alarmed Ernest. He felt that he might be called upon to explain wherehe had been.
"Who is this man?" he asked himself. "Is he one who is likely to be in theconfidence of the outlaws? If so I have only got out of one scrape to fallinto another."
He studied the face of the man with whom he was speaking and to his dismaynoted a resemblance to James Fox. He began to suspect that this was hisbrother.
Whether it was or not Ernest deemed it politic to say as little aspossible of his experiences and of what he knew about the cave and itsoccupants.
"Yes," he answered quietly; "there seems to be a cave underneath. I foundthe trap-door open and went down, but I regretted it, for I found itdifficult to get out again."
His new acquaintance eyed him scrutinizingly, as if to see whether he knewmore than he was willing to reveal.
"So there is a cave underneath?" he said.
"Yes."
"Have you any idea what it is used for?"
"I don't think it is used at all. The room below seems empty."
The man regarded him fixedly.
"When did you leave Emmonsville?" he asked abruptly.
"Yesterday," answered Ernest in some confusion.
"How does it happen that you have got no farther on your way to Lee'sFalls?"
"I stopped at the cabin of an Indian," answered Ernest, making the onlyexplanation he could think of.
The man smiled.
"Young man," he said, "didn't you pass last night in this cave?"
Ernest saw that there was no further chance for subterfuge.
"Yes," he answered.
"I thought so."
"You were captured?" the other went on.
"Yes."
"Have you any suspicion by whom this cave is occupied?"
"I presume by the Fox brothers."
"Correct. I am one of them."
"I began to think so."
"How were you able to escape?"
"I was left with the little boy. He fell asleep and then I began toexplore."
"Where is my brother?"
"He went out quite early, I presume in search of you."
"Exactly. I suppose my brother heard that I was in trouble?"
"Yes."
"By the way, the Quaker detective through whom I got into difficulty youdoubtless know?"
"I do."
"I was put into jail at Crampton, but I managed to effect my escape. Areyou connected in any way with the Emmonsville bank?"
"Yes."
"In what way?"
"As bank messenger."
"Did my brother take anything from you?"
"Yes."
"Money?"
"No, bonds."
"You are a sensible boy. You answer my questions freely. You are a smartboy, too. It isn't every lad of your age who would have managed to effectan escape from the cave. Do you remember the entrance?"
"No; I was carried into it blindfolded."
"I thought my brother would be prudent. So you couldn't find it again."
"No, I don't think so."
"Still I cannot run any risk. You will have to come with me."
"Where do you want to carry me?" asked Ernest, much disturbed.
"I will carry you back to the cave."
"Let me go free. I will promise not to reveal anything that I havediscovered."
"I am sorry, boy, but you were made prisoner by my brother, and I owe itto him to prevent your escape."
It was intolerable to Ernest to think of having his captivity renewed. Hedetermined that he would at least make an effort for fr
eedom.
Accordingly he did not hesitate, but started to run, hoping that in thisway he might save himself. He had always the reputation among his boycompanions as a sprinter, and resolved to see whether this was a lostart.
"So that's your game, is it?" exclaimed the outlaw. "It will go hard withme if I don't catch you. Stop, or it will be the worse for you!"
But Ernest had no intention of giving up so soon. He only exerted himselfthe more.
The contest was not so unequal as might have been supposed. Ernest wastall for his age, and the outlaw was rather below the average height. Sothere was in reality only about an inch difference in their height.
On the other hand, John Fox had, as might be supposed, more strength andendurance. He was not over weight and therefore not scant of breath.Ernest got the start and this was an advantage. One ran about as fast asthe other, so it settled down into a contest of endurance.
The outlaw, however, was irritated at the unexpected difficulty of hisundertaking. He had thought that Ernest would surrender.
"I wish I had my revolver," he muttered.
Had the outlaw been aware that Ernest had in his possession the packet ofbonds which had impelled his brother to make him a captive his zeal wouldhave been increased. He knew, of course, that the bonds would be takenfrom him and he could conceive of no chance of the boy's recovering them.