Part 19 (2/2)
”Yes!”
”How is he? Tell me quick! How is the poor old fellow?”
”First tell me about yourself, and then we'll see about the horse!”
”Nothing the matter with me. I never felt better, although that was a pretty cold bath I took--and now about Hickory.”
”Well, Owen, if you must know it,” said Martin, in a broken voice, ”the old fellow is dead--stiff--shot through the head.”
Owen did not answer, but fell back in the bed and wept bitterly.
When he returned home two days later, what was his surprise to find old Hickory eating away contentedly in his stall. It was the horse wounded by Owen that Martin had seen lying in the road, and in the dark had mistaken for Hickory. As it was impossible for the animal to recover, the owner had shot it through the head.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE TINKER DISTURBS THE INMATES OF THE CAVE.
It was after midnight when Tom the Tinker reached the cave.
”Have you heard the news?” he inquired of Stayford, who seemed to be the only occupant of the dingy abode.
”News! What news?” growled Stayford. ”We hear nothing in this hole.
Jerry and myself spend our whole time working for you. I am tired of it, Tom, and it's got to stop. That's the news I've for you!”
”Don't be hard on me, Stayford,” said the Tinker in almost piteous tones. ”I've lost a hundred and fifty dollars to-day. My! my! a hundred and fifty dollars!”
”And is this the news you wished to give me?” demanded Stayford.
”No; it was this. Our troops have whipped the English at New Orleans.
The war is over, and there will be no more tax on whisky.”
”And then all of our work will be for nothing?”
”It seems so, Stayford; it seems so. But where is Jerry? I've business news to communicate to both of you.”
”He just went to bed. Since you were not here to help him, he had to work hard for fully fifteen hours to keep the mash from souring.”
Stayford now spoke in the most friendly way. At the approach of danger he forgot that he was angry.
”Let him sleep!” said the Tinker, as he and Stayford seated themselves on a pile of wood at the end of the cave. ”We can settle the affair; he will agree to it, I know he will. First, let me tell you about the hundred and fifty dollars. I wanted to take revenge on those men at Was.h.i.+ngton for putting me in prison and robbing me when I was in the whisky business in Pennsylvania twenty years ago. Every man, from the President down to the lowest officer, had a hand in the work. They ruined me when I was a rich man; for years and years I've been waiting to square up accounts with them. I had a chance to-day, but it failed. I was going to change Jackson's letter, and put the English down as the winners. This would have frightened the authorities at Was.h.i.+ngton, and they wouldn't find out their mistake for a month. It is probable that the whisky tax would have been doubled.”
”And why did you not get the general's message about the battle?”
interrupted Stayford.
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