The Rider of the Black Horse/Chapter 27
CHAPTER XXVII
TAR AND FEATHERS
"Hold out your hands, young man!" said the man sternly.
"I 'll do what you say, but if you will give me just a minute to explain I'm sure I can make everything clear to you." Robert spoke quietly, for he was convinced that it would be useless to protest in the midst of the present excitement. Accordingly he complied with the demand, and his wrists were speedily bound.
The other four men now entered the room, and the thongs were inspected by the one who evidently was the leader. As he approached Robert the young express said eagerly in a low voice, "Take me outside just for a minute. I 'll explain everything to you, or if you are going to the fort, I 'll wait till we get there. But if you 're not, you must listen to me."
"We 're not going to the fort," said the man dryly.
"Then let me tell you about it!" said Robert eagerly. "You 'll be sorry for your mistake if you don't. It is n't on my account I'm asking it! Hannah will tell you."
"She's gone."
"Gone? Gone where? When did she go?"
"When we came."
"Is her mother here? She 'll tell you," said Robert quickly.
"She's gone, too."
"Then you must let me tell you! It's a good deal more important than you think."
The man evidently was impressed, for turning to his men he bade them remain where they were while he led the prisoner outside the house.
"Now, then," he said curtly when they were in the open air, "what is it?"
"I'm an express, and on my way to Fort Montgomery, and then to the army in the north."
"How do I know that?" inquired the man suspiciously.
"Take off my hat. You'll find a letter inside, and the address on it will show you that I'm telling you the truth."
The man at once removed Robert's hat and discovered the letter within. He gazed at the paper dubiously for a moment, read the address inscribed on it, and then said, "This may be only a trick."
"You can send a man with me to Fort Montgomery," suggested Robert. "That 'll show whether I'm telling you the truth or not."
"Can't do that. Can't do it anyhow. I might read this letter," he added thoughtfully.
"You may do as you please about that. I have n't read it myself. I did n't think I had any right to open it. But I'm sure, if it will help me, there would n't be any objection. You must do as you think best."
"How did you happen to be here at this time?" inquired the man, although he made no move to open the letter.
The young express briefly recounted the events of the night and explained the cause of his presence in the house.
"I should think Hannah would have told me," said the man. It was evident that he was hesitating, but was not yet fully persuaded.
"Did she know? Did she expect you?" said Robert quickly.
The man smiled as he said, "I don't mind telling you it was all a part of the trap. Her father had her and her mother come here just to find out if this old rascal was really handling the counterfeit money, as it was reported that he was doing."
"And that was how you happened to come?"
"Partly," replied the man. "We 're out after Claud Brown and his gang. Two hundred of us, men and boys, are scouring the country, and we 'll get him if we have to chase him right into the house where Sir Henry Clinton is, or follow him clear to Montauk Point. His work has got to stop, and stop right now!"
"Good! good!" exclaimed Robert eagerly. "He's the man that served me this trick," and as he spoke Robert looked down at his torn and cut garments.
"He did? What for?"
"Trying to find that letter you have in your hands."
"Why did n't he find it, then?"
Robert explained how it was that his hat had escaped the search, and then said eagerly, "If you don't believe me you 'll at least send that letter right on to General Clinton, won't you?"
"Have you a horse?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where is it?"
"In the barn."
"Young man, you take this letter to General Clinton yourself. I may be a fool for letting you go, but I 'm going to do it." Drawing his knife, he quickly cut the thongs by which Robert's hands were bound, and restoring to him the letter which he had taken, he said, "You'd better not waste any time."
"Thank you! Thank you, sir!" replied Robert eagerly, as he grasped the letter. "Where did you say Hannah and her mother had gone?" he inquired, as he prepared to start for the barn.
"I did n't say. If you 're bound for Fort Montgomery, it won't make any difference to you anyway. I don't mind telling you that she's at my house. She and my son are"—
"Are what?" demanded Robert quickly, as the man paused.
"It does n't concern you what they are," said the man tartly. "If you 're as anxious as you pretend to be to get inside the fort you 'll not stop to ask any more foolish questions here. I may change my mind about you if you don't look out, and decide to take you along with Josh."
Robert Dorlon made no response, but as he turned toward the barn somehow it seemed to him that, in spite of the release he had secured, there was something radically wrong with the day. It was not what the man had said so much as what he had implied that troubled him. It was easy to believe that the resolute girl had taken the part in the detection of the counterfeiter which the man had explained, but what had been implied in his words concerning her and his son? Robert did not even know what the man's name was nor where he lived, but it would be useless to stop longer to make inquiries, for the stranger might do as he had threatened and prevent him from proceeding on his way. It occurred to Robert that he might learn more at the fort if Joseph Nott or his brothers were there, and with this partial satisfaction he quickly led Nero forth from the barn, and leaping upon the back of the faithful animal was soon, despite his own weariness, speeding swiftly on his errand.
The day was bright and cloudless, and the heat of the late summer sun was intense, so that when two hours had elapsed he was glad of the opportunity to stop for a rest both for himself and for his horse at a sheltered spot by the roadside, where a spring poured its little stream of water into the tiny brook that for a time followed the same course he was pursuing.
As soon as he had quenched his thirst, he threw himself at full length upon the ground, while he permitted his wearied horse to obtain a brief respite as it cropped the grass and bushes by the side of the road. It was good to have a brief rest, he assured himself, and as he glanced for a moment at the sun he was confident that within two hours his letter would be safely delivered into the hands of General Clinton himself. A smile of satisfaction crept over his face at the thought, and somehow the peacefulness of the scene about him imparted something of its own charm to his feelings. Claud Brown and his evil comrades were for the time like the figures seen in a dream. Even the shrill cries of the counterfeiter were unreal. Jacob Gunning's anger and his determination to devote himself to running down the band of cowboys assumed somewhat more distinct form in view of the task of the unknown man and his seven comrades who had seized the huge Josh and the counterfeiter at the latter's home; but all these things were of minor importance compared with the puzzling part which Hannah Nott and her mother had had in the detection of the traitor.
Where was Hannah now? And what had the leader of the band, whose very name he did not know, implied in his statement concerning her and his son? The questions were troublous ones, but the young express was aroused from his reverie by the sound of a groan that seemed to issue from the bushes on the opposite side of the road.
Startled by the unexpected sound, Robert leaped to his feet, and for the first time realized that he had not secured his pistol when he had left the house where he had been seized. Even then he felt that he was not altogether to blame, for Hannah had removed his weapon when she had taken Josh's, and he had no knowledge where they had been placed.
He was listening intently for the startling sound to be repeated, but several minutes elapsed and the silence was unbroken save by a snort of his horse and the metallic noises of the locusts. And yet he could not persuade himself that he had been deceived, for the groan was by no means faint or indistinct.
At last he took a club in his hands and moved cautiously across the road. He peered into the bushes, but was unable to perceive any cause for the startling sound. With his club he carefully parted the bushes and almost stepped back when he discovered something on the ground before him that instantly assured him his fears had not been without some foundation.
But what was it that he saw? At first Robert was unable in his excitement to determine whether it was the body of a man or of some beast. He thought of the similar experience he had had a few weeks before in the rear of Hannah's home, and grasping his club firmly in his hands pushed his way into the bushes until he stood over the prostrate body. And then he knew, for it was a man lying before him.
The upper part of the body had been stripped, and a thick coating of tar entirely covered it, and upon the tar a sack of feathers evidently had been thrown, so that the appearance of the man was scarcely human. A feeling of anger and of pity swept over Robert's heart; and for a moment, unmindful whether the man was an enemy or a friend, he was striving to think how he might be of service to the wretched victim of some lawless men.
"Are you hurt?" he inquired in a low voice.
The groan that arose in response to his query left no doubt as to the reply.
"If you can walk, come over here by the spring and I 'll help you."
A mumbled reply that sounded indistinctly like "I cannot see," caused Robert to seize one hand of the prostrate man and lift him to his feet.
"There you are!" he said cheerily. "You 're not half dead yet. Come along!"
Groaning pitifully, the man, who apparently was entirely blinded, obeyed, and, clutching Robert's hand, followed him as he led the way to the spring on the opposite side of the road. For a moment the young express gazed at the abject and wretched victim whose plight certainly was one to move a harder heart than that which he possessed.
"Stand still," he said quickly. "We 'll see what can be done for you." Seizing some broken branches, he at once began to scrape the foul mixture from the man's face, and in a brief time had succeeded in removing enough to enable the man to open his eyes and gaze about him.
"That's right. We 'll soon have you in shape again!" said Robert heartily, as he resumed his task.
"I 'll have the law on 'em! I 'll see that ev'ry one o' the hussies has her due!"
Robert paused abruptly in his task as the unexpected burst of wrath escaped the victim's lips. Robert could see now that the man was young, apparently about his own age.
"When did this happen?" he demanded quietly.
"About an hour ago," responded the young man angrily.
"Where?"
"At Mistress Down's."
"I don't know where that is. Tell me about it," he added gently.
"The hussies were having a quilting frolic there or were doing something of the kind, and I stopped at the house just in a friendly way to see what they were doing."
"And did they treat you this way?" demanded Robert.
"They did. They did, indeed."
"I can't understand it. Were they girls or women?"
"Yes, they were."
"No men there?"
"No, I was the only man."
"What made them do it?" said Robert slowly.
"They fancied that I said something against the colonies." [1]
"Did you?"
"Not much. I said that they would he beaten. And I hope they will!"
"And they gave you this coat of tar and feathers?"
"There's more molasses than tar."
"Then all I can say is that they 've wasted the tar and molasses and feathers, too."
"Oh! they 'll be paid for 'em every farthing's worth. That Hannah Nott"—
"Who?" interrupted Robert sharply.
"That hussy, Hannah Nott. She"—
"Did she have a part in this?"
Robert spoke quietly and his voice trembled slightly as he spoke, but his eagerness he could not conceal.
- ↑ An incident recorded in Gaines' Mercury—a newspaper of the times.