Read Georgina of the Rainbows Page 11


  CHAPTER XI

  THE OLD RIFLE GIVES UP ITS SECRET

  OUT of that game with forbidden playmates, grew events which changed thelives of several people. It began by Richard's deciding that a real gunwas necessary for his equipment if he was to play the part ofLeather-Stocking properly. Also, he argued, it would be a valuableaddition to their stock of fire-arms. The broken old horse-pistols weregood enough to play at pirating with, but something which would reallyshoot was needed when they started out in earnest on a sure-enoughadventure.

  Georgina suggested that he go to Fishburn Court and borrow a rifle thatshe had seen up in Uncle Darcy's attic. She would go with him and do theasking, she added, but Belle had promised to take her with her the nexttime she went to see the net-mender, and the next time would be thefollowing afternoon, if Tippy was well enough to be up and around.Georgina couldn't miss the chance to see inside the cottage that hadbeen the home of a hero and Belle's drowned lover. She wanted to see thenewspaper which Mr. Potter showed everybody who went to the house. Ithad an account of the wreck and the rescue in it, with Emmett's pictureon the front page, and black headlines under it that said, "Died like ahero."

  Tippy was well enough to be up next day, so Richard went alone toFishburn Court, and Georgina trudged along the sandy road with Belle tothe weather-beaten cottage on the edge of the cranberry bog. Belle toldher more about the old man as they walked along.

  "Seems as if he just lives on that memory. He can't get out in the boatsany more, being so crippled up, and he can't see to read much, sothere's lots of time for him to sit and think on the past. If it wasn'tfor the nets he'd about lose his mind. I wouldn't say it out, and youneedn't repeat it, but sometimes I think it's already touched a mite.You see the two of them lived there together so long alone, that Emmettwas all in all to his father. I suppose that's why Emmett is all he cantalk about now."

  When they reached the cottage Mr. Potter was sitting out in front asusual, busy with his work. Georgina was glad that he did not offer toshake hands. His were so dirty and black with tar she felt she could notbear to touch them. He was a swarthy old man with skin like wrinkledleather, and a bushy, grizzled beard which grew up nearly to his eyes.Again Georgina wondered, looking at Belle in her crisp, white dress andwhite shoes. How could she care for this unkempt old creature enough tocall him Father?

  As she followed Belle around inside the dreary three-room cottage shewanted to ask if this would have been her home if Emmett had not beendrowned, but she felt a delicacy about asking such a question. Shecouldn't imagine Belle in such a setting, but after she had followed heraround a while longer she realized that the house wouldn't stay drearywith such a mistress. In almost no time the place was put to rights, andthere was a pan of cookies ready to slip into the oven.

  When the smell of their browning stole out to the front door the old manleft his bench and came in to get a handful of the hot cakes. Then, justas Belle said he would, he told Georgina all that had happened the nightof the wreck.

  "That's the very chair he was sittin' in, when Luke Jones come in withthe word that men were needed. He started right off with Luke soon as hecould get into his oil-skins, for 'twas stormin' to beat the band. Buthe didn't go fur. Almost no time it seemed like, he was comin' into thehouse agin, and he went into that bedroom there, and shet the doorbehind him. That of itself ought to 'uv made me know something out ofthe usual was beginnin' to happen, for he never done such a thingbefore. A few minutes later he came out with an old rifle that him andDan Darcy used to carry around in the dunes for target shootin' and heset it right down in that corner by the chimney jamb.

  "'First time anybody passes this way goin' down to Fishburn Court,' hesays, 'I wish you'd send this along to Uncle Dan'l. It's his by rights,and he'd ought a had it long ago.'

  "An' them was his last words to me, except as he pulled the door toafter him he called 'Good-bye Pop, if I don't see you agin.'

  "I don't know when he'd done such a thing before as to say good-bye whenhe went out, and I've often wondered over it sence, could he 'a had anywarnin' that something was goin' to happen to him?"

  Georgina gazed at the picture in the newspaper long and curiously. Ithad been copied from a faded tin-type, but even making allowances forthat Emmett didn't look as she imagined a hero should, nor did it seempossible it could be the man Belle had talked about. She wished shehadn't seen it. It dimmed the glamor of romance which seemed to surroundhim like a halo. Hearing about him in the magical moonlight she hadpictured him as looking as Sir Galahad. But if _this_ was what he reallylooked like----Again she glanced wonderingly at Belle. How could shecare so hard for ten long years for just an ordinary man like that?

  When it was time to go home Belle suggested that they walk around byFishburn Court. It would be out of their way, but she had heard thatAunt Elspeth wasn't as well as usual.

  "Emmett always called her Aunt," she explained to Georgina as theywalked along, "so I got into the way of doing it, too. He was so fond ofDan's mother. She was so good to him after his own went that I feel Iwant to be nice to her whenever I can, for his sake."

  "You know," she continued, "Aunt Elspeth never would give up but thatDan was innocent, and since her memory's been failing her this lastyear, she talks all the time about his coming home; just lies there inbed half her time and babbles about him. It almost kills Uncle Dan'l tohear her, because, of course, he knows the truth of the matter, that Dan_was_ guilty. He as good as confessed it before he ran away, and therunning away itself told the story."

  When they reached Fishburn Court they could see two people sitting infront of the cottage. Uncle Darcy was in an armchair on the grass withone of the cats in his lap, and Richard sat on one seat of the red,wooden swing with Captain Kidd on the opposite one. Richard had a rifleacross his knees, the one Georgina had suggested borrowing. He passedhis hand caressingly along its stock now and then, and at intervalsraised it to sight along the barrel. It was so heavy he could not keepit from wobbling when he raised it to take aim in various directions.

  At the click of the gate-latch the old man tumbled Yellownose out of hislap and rose stiffly to welcome his guests.

  "Come right in," he said cordially. "Mother'll be glad to see you,Belle. She's been sort of low in her mind lately, and needs cheeringup."

  He led the way into a low-ceilinged, inner bedroom with the shades allpulled down. It was so dark, compared to the glaring road they had beenfollowing, that Georgina blinked at the dim interior. She could scarcelymake out the figure on the high-posted bed, and drew back, whispering toBelle that she'd stay outside until they were ready to go home. Leavingthem on the threshold, she went back to the shady door-yard to a seat inthe swing beside Captain Kidd.

  "It's Uncle Darcy's son's rifle," explained Richard. "He's been tellingme about him. Feel how smooth the stock is."

  Georgina reached over and passed her hand lightly along the polishedwood.

  "He and a friend of his called Emmett Potter used to carry it on thedunes sometimes to shoot at a mark with. It wasn't good for much else,it's so old. Dan got it in a trade once; traded a whole litter of colliepups for it. Uncle Darcy says he'd forgotten there was such a gun tillsomebody brought it to him after Emmett was drowned."

  "Oh," interrupted Georgina, her eyes wide with interest. "Emmett'sfather has just been telling me about this very rifle. But I didn'tdream it was the one I'd seen up in the attic here. He showed me thecorner where Emmett stood it when he left for the wreck, and told whatwas to be done with it. 'Them were his last words,'" she added, quotingMr. Potter.

  She reached out her hand for the clumsy old firearm and almost droppedit, finding it so much heavier than she expected. She wanted to touchwith her own fingers the weapon that had such an interesting history,and about which a hero had spoken his last words.

  "The hammer's broken," continued Richard. "Whoever brought it home letit fall. It's all rusty, too, because it was up in the attic so manyyears and the roof leaked on it. But Uncle Darcy
said lots of museumswould be glad to have it because there aren't many of these oldflint-locks left now. He's going to leave it to the Pilgrim museum up bythe monument when he's dead and gone, but he wants to keep it as long ashe lives because Danny set such store by it."

  "There's some numbers or letters or something on it," announcedGeorgina, peering at a small brass plate on the stock. "I can't makethem out. I tell you what let's do," she exclaimed in a burst ofenthusiasm. "Let's polish it up so's we can read them. Tippy usesvinegar and wood ashes for brass. I'll run get some."

  Georgina was enough at home here to find what she wanted without asking,and as full of resources as Robinson Crusoe. She was back in a very fewminutes with a shovel full of ashes from the kitchen stove, and an oldcan lid full of vinegar, drawn from a jug in the corner cupboard. With ascrap of a rag dipped first in vinegar, then in ashes, she beganscrubbing the brass plate diligently. It had corroded until there was anedge of green entirely around it.

  "I love to take an old thing like this and scrub it till it shines likegold," she said, scouring away with such evident enjoyment of the jobthat Richard insisted on having a turn. She surrendered the raggrudgingly, but continued to direct operations.

  "Now dip it in the ashes again. No, not that way, double the rag up anduse more vinegar. Rub around that other corner a while. Here, let meshow you."

  She took the rifle away from him again and proceeded to illustrate heradvice. Suddenly she looked up, startled.

  "I believe we've rubbed it loose. It moved a little to one side. See?"

  He grabbed it back and examined it closely. "I bet it's meant to move,"he said finally. "It looks like a lid, see! It slides sideways."

  "Oh, I remember now," she cried, much excited. "That's the wayLeather-Stocking's rifle was made. There was a hole in the stock with abrass plate over it, and he kept little pieces of oiled deer-skin insideof it to wrap bullets in before he loaded 'em in. I remember just asplain, the place in the story where he stopped to open it and take out apiece of oiled deer-skin when he started to load."

  As she explained she snatched the rifle back into her own hands oncemore, and pried at the brass plate until she broke the edge of her thumbnail. Then Richard took it, and with the aid of a rusty button-hookwhich he happened to have in his pocket, having found it on the streetthat morning, he pushed the plate entirely back.

  "There's something white inside!" he exclaimed.

  Instantly two heads bent over with his in an attempt to see, for CaptainKidd's shaggy hair was side by side with Georgina's curls, his curiosityas great as hers.

  "Whatever's in there has been there an awful long time," said Richard ashe poked at the contents with his button-hook, "for Uncle Darcy said therifle's never been used since it was brought back to him."

  "And it's ten years come Michaelmas since Emmett was drowned," saidGeorgina, again quoting the old net-mender.

  The piece of paper which they finally succeeded in drawing out had beenfolded many times and crumpled into a flat wad. Evidently the messageon it had been scrawled hastily in pencil by someone little used toletter writing. It was written in an odd hand, and the united efforts ofthe two little readers could decipher only parts of it.

  "I can read any kind of plain writing like they do in school," saidRichard, "but not this sharp-cornered kind where the m's and u's arealike, and all the tails are pointed."

  Slowly they puzzled out parts of it, halting long over some of theundecipherable words, but a few words here and there were all they couldrecognize. There were long stretches that had no meaning whatever forthem. This much, however, they managed to spell out:

  "Dan never took the money.... I did it.... He went away because he knewI did it and wouldn't tell.... Sorry.... Can't stand it any longer....Put an end to it all...."

  It was signed "Emmett Potter."

  The two children looked at each other with puzzled eyes until intoGeorgina's came a sudden and startled understanding. Snatching up thepaper she almost fell out of the swing and ran towards the housescreaming:

  "Uncle Darcy! Uncle Darcy! Look what we've found."

  She tripped over a piece of loose carpet spread just inside the frontdoor as a rug and fell full length, but too excited to know that she hadskinned her elbow she scrambled up, still calling:

  "Uncle Darcy, _Dan never took the money. It was Emmett Potter. He saidso himself!_"