Part 4 (1/2)

The man retraced his steps, sulkily. He had been foraging on his own account, and had unearthed bigger game than he could manage.

Ruth watched the man until he pa.s.sed from sight. As she turned about she faced Andy sitting among the bushes. She jumped, then laughed nervously.

”How did you get your cane?” she asked.

”I was not six feet away.” Andy's voice was strangely calm. ”I hope you know, Ruth,” he faltered, 'that had things turned out differently, I would have been with you. You know that?”

”Yes, Andy.” A flush came to the pale face. ”I think I feared you would come more than anything else. But I do not trust that fellow. He will come back. I know he was suspicious. Choose another way--next time!”

”Aye, and I'll stop up this trail. Good-by, Ruth. Hurry, I will wait until you are safe, and this pa.s.sage made harmless.”

For a few days longer Andy remained near home, not caring to run the risk of seeking the longer path of which he knew, while the Britisher's suspicions might still be alert. Once or twice he had met the fellow on the public highway, and he feared to arouse any further cause for watchfulness. He had discovered, also, that the man had gone back to the spot where he had encountered Ruth, but Andy laughed, when he recalled how cunningly he had hidden the trail. But now the boy could wait no longer, he must try to get near the lines and listen.

Taking the longer way, he left his crutch hidden inside a cave-like opening. He would never again trust the outside. Then in true Indian fas.h.i.+on he crept along through the rocky pa.s.sage. He reached the other end and for an hour or more waited patiently, but only the pa.s.sing of a lonely sentinel rewarded him, and he guessed that no news would come that way.

He dared not emerge from his shelter, for the day was too bright and clear, the sentinel would surely spy him, and better no news than to give away the secret of the pa.s.sage. Disappointedly he crept back, and at the other end put his hand cautiously forth to grasp his crutch. Then he became instantly aware that he was discovered, for his hand was grasped in a firm, unyielding clutch.

Andy's heart stood still. He had no doubt but that Ruth's annoyer had dogged his steps and had captured him. But there was little of the coward about Andy; he would face the worst. He pushed through the tangle of leaves, trying to free his hand, but the clasp was like iron. The captor was not the Britisher, but a man of quite another sort. He was young, handsome, splendidly formed. As he lay at full length upon the moss Andy thought he had never seen so tall a man. He wore velvet knee-breeches, long blue coat, and a wide-brimmed hat, which s.h.i.+elded a pair of friendly, laughing eyes. One glance and Andy lost all fear.

”Now that you have come from your hole, you young mole, good-morning to you, and where have you fared?” The voice was ringing and full of cheer.

”Good-morning, sir,” Andy made answer.

”And where have you fared?”

”That I cannot tell you, sir.”

”You cannot tell me!” the man sighed, impatiently. ”Now, do you know, for a moment I fancied that you were just the lad who could guide me over your interesting island. What with all this excitement, a peaceful traveler has no show above-ground. I hoped you might lead me mole-fas.h.i.+on.”

”I will gladly show you through the pa.s.s, sir, as far as the gate a mile or so below.”

”As far as the gate! Always as far as something! I want to go beyond--'as far!' What care I for countersigns and pa.s.sports. I want the freedom of the island, and a chance to study its rocks and flowers and very interesting weeds. Boys often know paths unknown to any one else--except Indians!”

”But I am a lame boy much dependent upon a crutch.”

”You can dispense with it at times,” laughed the stranger. ”For a good two hours you did without it to-day. It and I have been keeping company.

I followed you at a distance, thinking easily to overtake you, when piff! you were gone, and I and the crutch--for you see I searched the hole--were alone!”

For some moments Andy's hand had been free, and now as he looked at the speaker he saw that he was holding in his open palm the charm which last he had beheld that glorious morning by the riverside.

With a glad cry he sprang up. ”I am Andy McNeal!” he said, and he doffed Sam's hat, which was his only martial possession.

”And I--am the schoolmaster!”

The two clasped hands. That was the beginning. Through the following days the master abode in Janie's house. The good woman asked no questions. Her curiosity burned and burned, but wisdom held it in check.

Enough that Andy was the companion of this mighty person. Enough that her humble roof sheltered him, and her able hands served him faithfully.

It was wonderful, and--enough. Ruth, too, throbbed with excitement, but went her ways calmly as if it were a common enough thing for a splendid schoolmaster to suddenly undertake Andy's neglected education, and pay for his lodging and board by instructing the hostess's son.