CHAPTER XXIV.
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST
The miser's wild and unexpected revelation was certainly a mostastonishing thing to Mont Gray. As we know, he had surmised that thisstrange man knew much of the history of the past, and he had alreadydecided to put several questions to Max Pooler on the first availableopportunity. But such a statement as he had just heard took away hisbreath, and he stared at the prostrate man, scarcely able to move.
Deb, too, was astonished, but, woman-like, paid more attention to theeffect upon the young man than to what was said.
"Oh, Mont, isn't it awful?" she exclaimed, catching him by the arm."What makes you so pale? What is that man talking about?"
"I can't say, exactly," he replied, in an oddly unnatural voice. "Myfather's death is a mystery to me. This man can unravel it, I suppose,if he will," he added, as he knelt down, and turned Pooler once more onhis back.
The face of the wounded man had lost all color, and his heart seemed tohave stopped beating.
"If we only had some water it might help him," said Mont. "Although Ican't make anything out of a case like this."
"There's a brook just outside," returned Deb. "Wonder if there is a cupanywhere around?"
In one corner he found a can, such as is used in preserving vegetables.It was empty, and, taking it outside, she washed it thoroughly, andreturned with it full of pure, cold water, with which they bathed thewounded man's head.
"He is suffering more from the excitement than from the pistol shot,"observed the young man, as he worked away.
"I suppose being surprised by those two men was the start of it,"replied Deb.
The miser was rapidly regaining his color, and his forehead felt likefire. Soaking the handkerchief in the can, the girl bound it over histemples.
Presently Pooler grew restless. He did not open his eyes, but moved hisbody from side to side uneasily.
"He is coming to," whispered Mont. "Perhaps you had better go outside.He may become violent."
"Never mind if he does," replied the girl; "I think I ought to stay, andI won't care so long as you are here," and then, as Mont gave her agrateful smile, Deb suddenly blushed and turned away her face.
"My gold and silver! It's mine, all mine!" muttered Pooler to himself."Monterey Gray is dead, and it belongs to me, all, all, all!" Hegnashed his teeth. "Oh, why did I go on that accursed yacht--evil isalways sure to follow! My gold and silver! All mine!"
A long silence followed, broken only by the irregular breathing of theexhausted man.
"He has passed into a stupor," said Mont. "How long it will last Icannot tell."
Presently Meg returned, carrying a number of bottles and bandages.
"Brought all I could carry," she declared. "Hope there's what you wantthere."
Deb looked over the list and fixed up a dose which Mont poured down thewounded man's throat.
Meanwhile, Meg picked up the scattered coins and tied them up in thevarious bags that lay upon the table. How much there was they couldform no estimate, but it would certainly run up to thousands of dollars.
Evidently, Max Pooler had not dreamed of being surprised while countingover his hoarded wealth, and the demands of Mosey and Corrigan, whoprobably had some hold upon the miser, had led to an immediate quarrel.
While Meg was still at work, Jack returned, somewhat flushed fromhurrying.
"We don't know what to do with those two men," he said, after taking alook at Pooler, who still rested quietly. "That hired man is afraid ofhis own shadow, and Mr. Farrell hardly thinks he can manage them alone."
"Suppose you go with them," suggested Mont. "I can get along here alone,and when you come back you can bring a doctor."
The young man's idea was thought by all to be a good one.
"But what will you do?" asked the young machinist of his sister.
"I'll do whatever you say, Jack," was Deb's reply.
"I'll stay here, if it's best," put in Meg. "I ain't afraid of anythingon this island."
"Perhaps you had better remain, too, Deb," said Jack. "I'll be backwith the doctor just as soon as I can."
"Wonder if we can't get this man up to the cottage," put in Mont. "He'dbe much better off in his own bed than here."
"We can, but carrying may make his wound worse," returned the youngmachinist.
"It isn't that which worries him the most. It's his money and hisconscience," declared the young man, as he eyed Pooler meditatively.
"Then come; we'll lock hands and make an armchair for him to ride in."
Not without considerable difficulty they raised the man between them.He now uttered no sound, and his weight was that of a dead body.
Meg led the way, carrying the lantern which she had taken from the cave.Deb brought up the rear, her overskirt weighted down by as many of thebags of the coin as she could carry, which Jack advised should be takenalong.
It was a long and tedious walk, for the greater part in the dark. Theyrested twice, and both Mont and Jack gave a sigh of relief when theydeposited their burden upon a temporary bed in the front room of thecottage.
"There, now you'll have to get along the best you can," said the youngmachinist. "I suppose Mr. Farrell is wondering what keeps me so long.Good night all;" and off he went toward the shore.
Meg brought some extra blankets from the other beds, and Mont prepared aresting place for the unconscious man, placing the wounded shoulder inas comfortable a position as possible.
"You had both better try to secure a little sleep," he said to the twogirls. "I can get along alone. If I need help I will call you."
After some discussion both Deb and Meg retired to what had for manyyears been the latter's resting place, a small chamber at one end of thegarret.
Mont kept a constant eye upon his strange patient, frequentlyrearranging the pillow, and watching that the bandage did not slip fromthe shoulder.
There was an anxious look in the young man's face as he moved about, andit soon vented itself in a brief soliloquy.
"This man knows all about the past," he whispered to himself. "He knewmy father, and he knows uncle Felix, I must help him to recover and,there----" he rubbed his hand over his forehead; "If I only knew thetruth!"
He noticed that the brow of the miser gradually grew hotter, and thatthe man's restlessness increased every moment.
"I don't know of anything else I can do," said Mont to himself. "I hopeJack will hurry back with the doctor."
It was not long before Max Pooler was tossing from side to side.
"My gold and silver," murmured the feverish miser. "My shining gold andsilver! You shan't take it away! It's mine. Ask Felix Gray if itain't."
Mont started.
"What did you say?" he asked bending low over the tossing form.
"Water, water!" moaned Pooler, paying no attention to the question."Give me a drink of water, I'm burning up!"
Mont took up the pitcher which Meg had filled at the spring, and held itto his lips. The miser took one sip, and then pushed it from him.
"Ha! ha! you can't fool me!" he screamed. "You're in the water--the sameold face! Haven't I looked at it many a time from the deck of the Kitty?But you're dead, yes dead, and you can't tell anything!" and he fellback on the bed with a groan.
"You must keep quiet," said Mont, who, to tell the truth, was highlyexcited himself; "you are wounded in the shoulder, and will fare badlyif you don't take things easy."
But Pooler either could or would not pay any attention to Mont's advice.He kept muttering to himself--at one moment apparently in his right mindand at the next talking at random.
"Who did you say you were?" he asked during a lucid interval.
The young man did not reply. He knew that under the circumstances to doso would only excite the man.
"Oh, I know--Monterey Gray. But you're not. Monterey Gray is dead,"and the miser chuckled.
"You are thinking of my father," s
aid Mont finally.
Max Pooler glared at him.
"'Tain't so!" he cried, and then, after a pause: "Who was that otheryoung man?"
"My friend, Jack Willington."
"Willington!" gasped Pooler, rising up. "Both of them; and they havecome to take away the money! But Monterey Gray and Martin Willingtonare both dead, and the gold and silver is mine! Didn't I tell you sobefore? It is all mine!"