Part 5 (1/2)
The old man had a reputation almost as notorious as that of Hodges himself. The girl felt a wave of disgust, mingled with alarm, as she caught sight of the face, almost hidden behind a h.o.a.ry thicket of whiskers. The fellow was dirty, as always, and his ragged clothes only emphasized the emaciation of his dwarfed form. But the rheumy eyes had a searching quality that disturbed the girl greatly. She knew that the man was distinguished for his intelligence as well as for his general worthlessness. In the experience of years, he had always escaped the raiders, nor had they been able ever to secure any evidence against him. He was, in fact, as adroit of mind as he was tough of body. He had lived hard all his days, either in drunken carouse or lying out in the laurel to escape the summons of the courts. Where, alas! a holier man might have been broken long ago, the aged reprobate thrived, and threatened to infest the land for years to come. Now, he greeted the girl casually enough, made a purchase, and took his departure. He seemed quite unsuspicious, but Plutina felt that his coming on her thus was an evil omen, and, for a moment, she faltered in her purpose.
A hand went to her bosom, and touched the tiny leather bag that hung from a cord about her neck inside the gown. Within it was the fairy crystal. The touch of it strengthened her in some subtle fas.h.i.+on. It was as if to her weakness there came miraculously something vital, something occultly helpful in her need, from the distant lover. The superst.i.tion, begotten and nourished always in the fastnesses of the heights, stirred deeply within her, and comforted her. Of a sudden, courage flowed back into her. She took down the receiver.
After all, nothing was accomplished. The marshal was not in his office, but absent somewhere in the mountains. Plutina would not risk giving information to any other than the officer himself, whom she knew, and respected. Disconsolate, she abandoned the attempt for the time being, and set out to get a bag of wheat flour from the mill close by, on the other side of Roaring River.
As Plutina, with the bag of flour on shoulder, was making her way back from the mill, across the big sycamore trunk that serves as a foot bridge, a horse splashed into the ford alongside. The girl looked up, to see the very man she sought. Marshal Stone called a cheery greeting, the while his horse dropped its head to drink.
”Howdy, Plutina?”
”Howdy, Mr. Stone,” she answered. Her free hand went again to the talisman in her bosom. Surely, its charm was potent!
”All's well as common, at home?” Stone continued. His critical eyes delighted in the unconscious grace of the girl, as she stood poised above the brawling stream, serene in her physical perfection; and above the delicately modeled symmetry of form was the loveliness of the face, beautiful as a flower, yet strong, with the s.h.i.+ning eyes and the red lips, now parted in eagerness. The marshal wondered a little at that eagerness. He wondered still more at her hurried speech after one quick glance to make sure that none could overhear:
”I mustn't be seed talkin' to ye, but I got somethin' to say 'll he'p ye arn yer pay. Kin ye meet me in an hour by the sun, at the ole gate on the east end o' Wolf Rock?”
The marshal's answer wasted no words:
”Go on, gal--I'll be there.”
Wolf Rock, a huge, jutting ma.s.s of barren cliff, though tiny beside the bulk of Stone Mountain, which overshadows it, lies between Garden Creek and Thunder Branch, a little to the north of where these streams flow into Roaring River. Its situation, nearly midway between the mill and the Siddon Cabin, made it a convenient point for the meeting between Plutina and the officer. Its loneliness lessened the element of danger. Both were prompt to the rendezvous. Well under the hour, man and girl were standing together within a bower of newly blossoming rhododendrons. Above them, the naked rock bent sharply, its granite surface glistening in the hot noonday sun. They had withdrawn some score of yards from the old wooden gate that barred the lane here, lest a chance pa.s.ser-by see them together. Plutina opened her mind without hesitation. The decision once made, she had no thought of drawing back.
”I 'low I kin trust ye, Mister Stone,” she said simply, and the sincerity of the l.u.s.trous eyes as they met his confirmed her words.
”Afore you-all's time in the revenue service, raiders done kilt my daddy. I kain't never fergive them men, but they's out o' the service now, er I wouldn't have come to ye. Gran'pap says they's a better lot o' revenuers now 'n what used to be an' he says as how Marshal Stone don't do no dirt. Thet's why I'm a-trusting ye, so's ye kin kotch the pizen-meanest white man a-makin' likker in the hull Stone Mountain country--him an' his gang an' his still.”
The marshal's eyes sparkled.
”I reckon you're talking about Dan Hodges,” he interjected.
Plutina nodded her head in somber acquiescence.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Clara Kimball Young under the direction of Lewis J. Selznick._ JOINES' MILL.]
”Then you needn't have any scruples about giving information,” Stone continued, urgently. ”He and his gang are a menace to the peace of the settlement. I'll keep you out of it, of course, to save you embarra.s.sment.”
”Ye'd better,” Plutina retorted, ”to save my life. I don't know's I mind bein' embarra.s.sed so much, but I don't feel called to die yit.”
”No, no; there won't be anything like that,” the marshal exclaimed, much disconcerted. ”I'll see no trouble comes to you. n.o.body'll know your part.”
”'Cept me!” was the bitter objection. ”If 'twas anybody but that ornery galoot, I wouldn't say a word. Ye know that.”
”I know,” Stone admitted, placatingly.
In his desire to change her mood, he blundered on:
”And there's the reward for getting the 'copper'--twenty dollars for you Plutina. If we get Hodges, I'll give you another fifty out of my own pocket. That'll buy you a nice new dress or two, and a hat, and some silk stockings for those pretty legs of yours.”
Plutina flared. The red glowed hot in her cheeks, and the big eyes flashed. The mellow voice deepened to a note of new dignity, despite her anger.
”I hain't come hyar to gas 'bout rewards, an' money outten yer pocket, Mister Stone, or 'bout my clothes an' sech. I'm an engaged woman.
When I wants to cover my legs with stockin's Zeke Higgins' money'll do the payin', an' he won't need no he'p from no d.a.m.ned revenuer.”
Stone, realizing too late the error in his diplomacy, made what haste he could to retrieve it. His smile was genial as he spoke. He seemed quite unabashed, just heartily sympathetic, and his manner calmed the girl's irritation almost at once.