BILL AND DICK—HORSE-STEALING—ANTI-THIEF LEAGUE.
On leaving the cave, after the interview with Eveline, Bill and Dick resorted to a place where they were in the habit of holding consultations on their own affairs, arrived at which, Bill produced the note which Eveline gave him, from his pocket, and at once perused it. A dark scowl gathered on his face as he read, and when he had mastered the document, an exclamation broke from his lips to this effect:
"Infernal villain and coward!"
"What now?" queried Dick, not a little surprised at his companion's violent language.
"What do you think?"
"That's a pretty question to ask! as if I could know anything contained in that paper, when I've never seen it except in your hand."
"This rascal, for whom we have been working these three months, wants to get clear of us, so soon as he has obtained from us all the aid he desires."
"What, Duffel?"
"Yes, Duffel."
Dick stood a moment, as if in doubt whether to believe Bill's words or not; at length he inquired:
"How do you know this?"
"Why, here it is, in his own hand-writing."
That he wants to betray us?"
"No—yes—that is, he wants to get us out of the way!"
"How?"
"By fair means or foul; he don't seem to care which. But I will read his words," and Bill read the billet to his accomplice.
"So he's afeard of us!" commented Dick. "Well, it ain't much wonder that he is. Ef I had as many crimes to account for as he has, and others knew of my guilt, I'd be skeered, too."
"See here, Dick, what the d——l does he mean by wanting us to hurry off that affair with Duval?"
"Fool! can't you see nothin'? Why, he wants us to kill a member of the Order, and then have us shot as traitors!"
"Egad! plain enough, truly. Well, Mr. Duval, you may pass this time; we'll pitch into higher game. What do you say, Dick?"
"Say? Why, that this friend of ours will have to git up mighty airly in the mornin', ef he finds us nappin'."
"Let me tell you, it is no very pleasant fix, this, that we are in. Duffel fears we will betray him, and is resolved to prevent it by having us killed. That's the 'long and short' of the matter; and he has fifty men at his back, all sworn to obey his orders. He can accuse us of treason, try, condemn, and have us shot, in the shortest possible time. Now, how are we to help ourselves?"
"Well, we can't be tried till the next regular meeting of the League, and it is more than two weeks till that time. We can watch his movements, and, ef need be, kill him or give him over into the hands of the law on a charge of murder."
"Yes, give him over to justice, and who is to prove him guilty, unless it be ourselves, and then we would have the whole League down upon us in quick time! a pretty way, indeed, to get rid of him. True, we might kill him at our next meeting in the 'swamp' and then be hung for it, which would be a poor recompense for our trouble and bad pay for taking the life of such a dastard. No, I am for revenge—a revenge that will thwart his designs, and save us from his power at the same time."
"But how are you going to accomplish so much? that's the rub."
"See here; on the back of this note, Miss Mandeville writes a few lines, asking our aid, and promising a reward for any service we may be willing and able to render her. My plan is this: To take the lady from the cave, which will be the deepest blow we can strike the villain, and then—"
"Well that'll do for the present. I want to know, before you go any further, how you are to git the gal out without the key, which, I take it, Duffel is very careful to secure about his own person?"
"Key! the deuce!" replied Bill, taken aback, for a moment, by the query. "I hadn't thought of that, but it's no difference; my plans are not alf made out in the details yet; but this is no bar to them; for I'd like to see the lock that Bill Mitchel can't make a key to fit, if he has a fair chance. I can make a false key in a day that will open the door to the captain's room. So that difficulty is settled."
"And now for the rest of your plan."
"Well, when we get all ready, I'll just drop a note to some of the vigilance men, and tell them when and where they can find Duffel taking care of a stolen horse. This will save us from the malice of any of his confederates, as they will not suspect us, and place Duffel in the hands of the officers of the government; and he will not get away soon, I'm thinking!"
"So you expect to have Duffel captured about the same time you are liberating his gal. Well, that's pretty sharp; I think you have not wasted your time in Duffel's service, and after all, ought to thank him for giving you such good lessons in plotting. But you have left one loophole yet, for all that."
"What is it?"
"I've been tryin' to think what you will do with the gal when she's brought out of the cave. She'll have to tell where she's been, and that'll fix all of us."
"I have that matter all settled. It won't do to take the girl home, that's certain; and this is my plan for action on that score: You see I have been thinking this matter over in my mind before to-day. I didn't know but we should have a split with Duffel on the Duval affair, and I was preparing for such a state of things in case it did come. As I have told you before, I know where there is a magnificent cave for our purpose in the mountains of Virginia, to which it has been my determination to retreat, should anything go wrong here. Well, I intend to take this young lady along with us to that cave."
"Dang the women! I don't like to be bothered with 'em. Ef you are goin' to that place, why not let the gal go home and 'blow' all she's a mind to? It wouldn't hurt us, ef she did let out the secret."
"It might, though. Some of the members of the League might chance to find us hereafter, and inform on us out of revenge."
"But we can swear the gal to keep still about who let her out."
"Pooh! do you suppose she would or could do it?"
"Why, yes, I think it's more'n likely she'd keep her tongue out of gratitude. She's no common gal, that, and you may put a peg there."
"Ah, that's it exactly. She's no common girl, as you say; and I have been envying Duffel his good fortune ever since she has been in the cave. The truth is, I was smitten by her charms the first time I saw her, and was half tempted to play Duffel false then; and now that I can serve myself and disappoint him at the same time, I shall not be slow to avail myself of the opportunity."
"I don't like this business of runnin' off women, nohow you can fix it. It allers looked mean and cowardly, somehow, and I despise meanness and cowardice above all things."
"Well, that is a pretty speech to come from you, anyhow! as if you had not been engaged in mean acts half your life, for which you would have to swing, if the law should once get his clutches upon you."
"I know I have done some bad things; of mean acts I have performed but few, and the meanest of these was helping to carry off this very gal to the cave; and it was by far the most cowardly. Two men to one woman! It's actually a disgrace, and I never think of it without feelin' little!"
"I am willing you should think as you please about the matter, so you give me a little help in the affair."
"I don't know about that; I am tee-totally opposed to meddlin' with women, and I don't think it's manly."
"Yes, but in this instance we are compelled, as it were, to take the girl with us. That changes the case, you know, very materially."
"I'm not so sure as we need to take her. I believe she'd keep our secret ef we'd let her go."
"Well, I don't; and so we differ. But that is not the question. Go she must—go she shall! Will you assist me?"
"Why, I reckon I'll have to; it wouldn't hardly be fair to refuse a friend after helpin' an enemy. I'll stand by you."
"That's a good fellow! Well, so much is settled. To-morrow Duffel will be away, and I will take the impression for the key. By Jove, won't it be rich when he finds that he has been robbed and the bird is flown!"
"I think he'll conclude this partic'lar part of God's footstool is likely to become a leetle too hot for him."
"Yes; and about the time he begins to prepare for leaving, he'll find himself taken care of in a way he doesn't dream of."
"And there will be one coward less at large in the world."
"And he will be paid for his treason to his friends."
"But how are we to manage him till the time for action comes?"
"Oh, we must be friendly as ever; he is not quite done with us yet, and we must seem to enter into his plans as fully as ever we have done, and, above all, give him no cause to suspect anything is wrong, or that we have any idea of his intentions toward us."
"Then we must go after them horses to-night?"
"Certainly; I would not miss the opportunity, because, if we succeed in taking the horses, they will be under our care, and we can use them for our own purpose."
"Sure enough. But if we don't get them, what then are we to do?"
"Why, we will take some from the stable."
"I don't like that much. Ef it is found out, as it will be when we are missed, we shall have the enmity of the Order."
"I know, and have prepared for such an emergency."
"How?"
"I will let you know in good time. We must away, now, to meet Duffel in the 'swamp.'"
Thus terminated the interview between these bad men. Had Eveline dreamed that such would have been the effect of her revelation to them of Duffel's purpose, she would have burned the paper sooner than have placed it in their hands. From one snare she falls into another, and there appears to be no end to her misfortunes.
Night was upon the world. In peaceful slumbers the innocent reposed, while the wicked, the thief and robber, stole out upon errands of vice and crime.
'Squire Williams, though in common a follower of that old proverb:
"Early to bed and early to rise,
Make a man healthy, wealthy and wise;"
was, on this evening, up until past eleven o'clock, in social chat with a neighbor, who had "dropped in to spend the evening" with him. During the conversation between them, the subject of most engrossing and universal interest in that community, that of horse-stealing, was amply discussed.
"What do you think is best to be done?" inquired the neighbor.
"Well, others may do as they please; but I intend to defend my property," was the 'Squire's reply.
"Just the conclusion I have arrived at; and I shall not be surprised if we are called upon very soon to put our resolves into practice."
"Have you heard anything new?"
"Well, no, I haven't heard anything, but I've seen a little, and that, I take it, is about as good."
"Why, yes, it might be better, if it was good for anything at all."
"I do not know how good it is, but my suspicions were excited."
"It is quite an easy matter to have our suspicions excited these exciting times, and on this very exciting subject. There is Mr. Mandeville, has been made to believe that one of the best young men who ever lived, is guilty of stealing his horse first, and his daughter afterward."
"You don't mean to say that he suspects Mr. Duffel of such crimes?"
"No; he judges a thousand times better man than Duffel; for, between you and me, I have my doubts about this Duffel. I have seen him on two different occasions in company with a couple of, to say the least, very suspicious looking characters."
"You don't say so!"
"Yes; and what is more, he was evidently on good terms with them, though he did not appear to wish me to think so, and passed the matter off indifferently. I might not have thought so much of the circumstance were it not for the fact that he does not attend to business at all, and yet lives in a better style and more extravagantly than any other young man in the country. I tell you a man can't live these times, and spend money as he does, without having an income much greater than his."
"Perhaps he is making inroads on his capital."
"That may be, too, though I do not know that it is the case; but I do know that he is absent from home much of the time, occasionally for days together, and nobody can tell where he is."
"I have noticed the fact of his absence myself."
"Mr. Mandeville was here to-day, and gave me a history of his troubles. It appears that this Duffel was in love with his daughter—or, as I suppose, with his money—and had proposed to him for her hand, which he was willing to bestow, but the daughter was not. She had placed her affections upon another, and, in my belief, a far worthier object, and to the importunities of both her father and Duffel, she gave a firm and constant refusal. The parent forbid her favorite the house, and he believes that it was through his persuasions that Eveline left her home, of which you, of course, have heard."
"Why, yes, I heard the fact, but none of the particulars."
"Well there are no particulars, except that Mr. Mandeville found a couple of notes, purporting to be from her lover, one addressed to herself and the other to him, in the former of which he persuades her to meet him at a certain place, and in the latter informs the parent of their elopement and asks forgiveness. Now it strikes me that these notes or letters were placed there by design, and that they are both forgeries. I know the hand-writing of the young man he accuses, and though the manuscript of the two letters is a very good imitation of his, yet it is not the same. Beside, I do not believe him capable of such an act."
"Why, then, is the daughter gone?"
"I believe she has been kidnapped!"
"Kidnapped!"
"Yes, I do!"
"But who would do it? Who would dare to do it!"
"Who so likely as the true lover's rival?"
"Heavens! you don't believe Duffel would commit such a crime?"
"I do; but mind, this is to go no further until I can find proof to sustain my belief. I am going to keep a strict watch upon the movements of this fellow, and I think I shall be able to find out where he keeps himself a part of the time during his absence."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing more nor less than that there is a secret gang of thieves and villains of all kinds, whose head quarters are somewhere in this region of country, and that I intend to ferret out their hiding-place."
"I am with you in that work with all my heart!"
"Very well. Here, then, is a paper I wish you to sign. It is a pledge. The villains have banded together to prey upon us, and I am for banding together to frustrate their plans and bring them to justice. This is simply the form of agreement we enter into among ourselves, and it binds us to use all honorable efforts, to further the cause in which we engage, and to expose the guilty wherever and whenever we can find them, even if the offender should be our nearest kin."
"I'll sign it, sir, with a hearty good will!"
"It further obligates us to aid each other to the utmost of our ability in recovering stolen property, in case any of us should meet with such a misfortune."
"All right, that's a good feature, I'm one of you, heart and hand!"
"Then you may sign, understanding, however, that all which passes between us, as members of this body, is to be kept an inviolable secret. We administer no oath, depending solely upon the honor of our members, all of whom are expected to be honorable and honest men, whose word will be better than the most terrible oath of a criminal."
The document was signed, and the 'Squire continued:
"Now, I wish you to consider all that has or may pass between us this evening as strictly confidential. At the last meeting of our body it was made the duty of every member to protect his property, and to shoot down all thieves who were caught in the act of stealing horses. Some, however, were for first warning the depredators, and if they did not then desist, to fire upon them."
"Indeed! is it supposed that the rascals are so bold?"
"Certainly they are! Why, it was but two or three nights ago that two thieves went into the pasture to take old Marshall's horses, supposing he was too aged and infirm to thwart them, even if he should learn their designs; they went early in the evening, before people usually retired to rest; they caused a disturbance among the horses, which called out a couple of neighbors who chanced to be there, who went to the pasture and demanded of the thieves what they wanted; when they had the insolence to reply, that they came after the horses and were going to have them. With this the men fired upon them, but only with the intention of frightening them away; but they were not so easily scared, and continued to follow up after the horses, which were not easily caught, especially by strangers. Seeing this, the men reloaded their rifles, and, taking the best aim the darkness would allow, fired again; this time with the desired effect, as it was believed one of the villains was wounded."
"I had no idea they were getting so bold!"
"No doubt they are numerous, and numbers beget confidence, you know. But we must teach them a lesson or two they will not soon forget."
"By the way, George Gordon came home from a hunt a day or two ago, with a wound in his arm. Do you think it possible he could have been one of the thieves that night?"
"The truth is, I don't know who to trust nor who to suspect. I have no doubt there are numbers of seemingly honest people who belong to the secret gang of thieves. I should hardly have believed it of Gordon; but there is no telling. How does he account for the wound?"
"He says his gun accidentally went off while he was leaning upon it with his arm over the muzzle."
"Guns are not apt to play such scaly tricks as that; and we had better watch him."
"By-the-way, I heard a report yesterday, to the effect that Thompson had shot, or shot at, some thieves the other night."
"Yes, and you will hear of more shooting; mark that! And if the thieves do not cease their operations, you will hear of some of them being shot dead pretty soon!"
At this point in the conversation, a trampling among the horses in the pasture attracted the attention of the 'Squire.
"Thieves, now!" he exclaimed; and taking down a couple of rifles, he gave one to his neighbor and retaining the other himself, the two sallied forth to ascertain what was going on. It was a starlight night, and they could see some distance tolerably clearly. No sooner did they come in full view of the field in which the horses were, than they espied two thieves attempting to coax the 'Squire's favorite horse to them. The animal, however, had always been shy of strangers, and would never suffer itself to be caught by one even in the day-time. It was a noble animal, and the thieves, as well as the lawful owner, had set their hearts upon it. They would approach as near as prudence dictated, and then hold out corn and salt to entice the beast; it would come near, but the moment they made the least motion to catch it, would wheel about and let fly at them with its heels in such a manner as evinced to the thieves that it was best to keep at a respectful distance. They were yet unwilling to go without him, and made repeated attempts to win him over to their way of thinking, but he was entirely too honest to be wheedled into such bad company.
The 'Squire watched their operations until he thought it was about time to stop the play, and then fired near, but not at the rascals, at the same time calling out to them that they had better leave in short meter if they wanted to get away alive. Supposing that he was alone and his gun empty, they returned an insolent answer, to the effect that they would leave shortly on a couple of his horses; and turned to try their hand at taking some of the others in the pasture. To such a bold pass had the thieves arrived!
"Aim at the rascals, and fire!" said the 'Squire to his companion; and they did so.
"By jing, Bill, we'd better be moving, I believe. That ball took a lock of hair off by my ear!"
"The devil it did!"
Everything being still at the moment, the 'Squire heard this scrap of conversation between the thieves, and called out:
"Yes, you had better leave, or I'll put the next ball through one of your hearts!"
"Do it, then, and be ——!" said one of them; and leveling a horse pistol at the 'Squire he fired, the ball from which struck the fence close by. This climax of insolence aroused the 'Squire fully. His gun was just reloaded, and taking the best aim at one of the miscreants, both of whom were now retreating rapidly, he fired. The fellow clapped his hand to his face, but continued to run. They were soon out of sight.
The incidents here related are strictly true; but the truth is not half told. Many such scenes took place, and numbers of the thieves were killed, and some of them proved to be neighbors to those who had shot them!
The villains on this occasion were Bill and Dick, as the reader is aware, and this was the termination of their attempt to save the 'Squire's pasture, as Duffel suggested, or to get his horses as they themselves desired.
So soon as the thieves were gone, the neighbor remarked to the 'Squire:
"This reminds me of what I was going to say in the early part of the evening, but was led from the subject by the turn our conversation took."
"I remember, now, you mentioned having seen something, which excited your suspicions that all was not right, in some quarter."
"Well, it was two men, very dare-devil looking fellows, whom I have seen prowling about on several occasions, looking out, as I thought, for chances to steal; and if I am not greatly mistaken, these are the same men."
"No doubt of it at all.—This night's operations have convinced me more than ever of the necessity of strong measures; and the next time I see thieves at their work, I will not stop to scare them, but the first fire will be to wound or kill!"
"I think I shall act on the same principle."
"I advise you to, and all other honest men. I am satisfied nothing else will do."
With this they parted, each going to his own home.
It may be well enough to explain more fully than has yet been done, that Bill and Dick acted in two capacities, one of ruffians, the other as gentlemen. Bill was equally at home in either character, and could act the latter quite a la mode. Dick was rather out of his element when it came to the gentleman: he was a little awkward, and by no means at his ease; but give him a daring or desperate act to perform, and he was entirely at home. Yet for all this there was a streak of the man about him, and at heart he was better than either Bill or Duffel.
It was at Dick that the 'Squire aimed the last shot, and the bullet grazed his cheek, doing him no serious injury, however, though it drew the blood and left a scar.
The two villains notwithstanding that they were foiled in their attempt upon the horses, prepared for the prosecution of the rest of their schemes on the morrow with great energy. But leaving them for the present, we will turn to other scenes and characters.