CHAPTER X.
The Kidnapper's Surprise—On the Wrong Track—Bloody Jim's Capture—The Power of Habit—Dispair—The Rotten Plank.
t was late on the following morning when Bloody Jim awoke. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head with a vacant stare, for he did not at first remember where he was. When the objects by which he was surrounded had sufficiently refreshed his memory he began to look about for his prisoner and, behold, she was nowhere to be seen.
He ground his teeth with rage. "Ketchum," he said, giving his still snoring companion a tremendous shake, "wake up, that d——d gal is gone."
"Gone!" exclaimed Ketchum, starting up and beating around among the bushes, "she aint gone far I reckon."
"She has too," said Bloody Jim, following his exclamation with an oath.
"How do you know, Jim?"
"That horse she's taken, Ketchum, will travel like lightning."
Now it so happened that the animal alluded to had broken loose during the night, and, as Bloody Jim had appropriated his services without consulting his master, who was an honest farmer living in the vicinity of St. Paul, the sagacious beast deliberately set out to return to his former comfortable quarters.
The natural conclusion of the villains was that Little Wolf had fled on their missing horse, and so when they had succeeded in finding his track they followed it. Mile after mile of their former route was retraced. Hour after hour they plodded on, scarcely stopping to give their beasts necessary rest until the night overtook them, and then were only delayed for a short time. They rose with the moon, and, in a few hours actually came in sight of the deserter. He was drinking at the river's brink within sound of the roar of St. Anthony's Falls. Perceiving his pursuers approaching, the noble beast threw up his head, gave a loud snort and darted off.
Bloody Jim gave an impatient grunt, but Ketchum clapped his hands with delight. "Golly: the gal must be near here," said he.
"No, me think she got to the tavern on yonder hill. We must find a hiding place, Ketchum, and me have the gal yet, or the constable have me."
Bloody Jim little thought when he made his boast that he would be in the power of the constable before night, but so it was. The riderless horse having been seen at St. Anthony's, suspicions were aroused, a search was instituted, and the result was the capture of the imprudent and high-handed outlaw.
To all questions put to him concerning Little Wolf, he had but one answer, "me not know."
Threats and bribes elicited nothing more and it was generally supposed that he had murdered her. But as the whole affair was shrouded in mystery, there was some few inclined to the opinion, that she was secreted in some place, from which the protracted absence of Bloody Jim would give her an opportunity to escape. Among the last named was Dr. Goodrich and Edward Sherman.
The Doctor was not at the examination of the prisoner, and Edward hastened to inform him of the result. He was at his old haunt, and, as usual, under the influence of stimulus when Edward entered.
"No satisfactory information could be obtained from the old scoundrel," said he, throwing himself upon a lounge.
The events of the past few days had worn upon him, and his anxious look did not escape Hank Glutter, who turned away to conceal his exultation.
"Poor fellow, he too mourns for her," thought Edward, mistaking his movement for one of grief.
After a moment's silence, Hank poured out something from the bar. "Drink this, Sherman," said he, passing it to Edward, "I see you are tired; it will strengthen you."
Since Edward's entrance, Dr. DeWolf had sat gazing at him fixedly. The bleared, dull light of his eyes gave place to a keen, wild expression as Edward accepted the proffered glass.
"Mr. Sherman," said he, in an unusually strong voice, "do you see what is in that cup?"
"Why, yes, doctor; it is wine."
"Yes, surely it is wine," replied the other "and your inexperienced eye sees nothing more than a harmless beverage; neither did this bleared and bloated old man see more than that in his wine years ago. Ah! could he have seen in his youth the vision in his cup which he now sees in that which you now hold to your lips, he might have been saved from a life of disgrace and ruin. The chain which once bound me was as light as that which now binds you."
"No chain binds me," said Edward proudly. "I need not drink this unless I choose."
"It seems but yesterday, Edward Sherman since I addressed similar language to your father, and well do I remember his arguments to induce me to abandon every beverage that could intoxicate. I recollect how I loathed the drunkard, as you do me, and how my proud heart rebelled at the humiliating thought that habit would ever become too strong to be controlled by my will; but boastings were vain; the time will shortly come when I shall sink into a drunkard's hell—and you, poor Hank, will be there too," he continued, turning to Hank Glutter, "you will be sent down to wait upon your customers. You must stand behind your flaming bar and pour out the liquid fire and brimstone for such as I; but, never mind, the traffic will enrich you with showers of molten gold. No drop from God's pure fountain to cool your parched tongue. One long eternal blaze shall light up your saloon. Drunken devils reeling to and fro—Oh! I see them now"—and the doctor gave, a fearful shriek and fell upon the floor.
He raved frightfully for hours, but in an interval of calmness was removed to his desolate home.
The loss of his wife had entirely unfitted daddy for active service, and Sorrel Top, on account of her youth and inexperience, was an inefficient nurse: consequently Mrs. Hawley's services were engaged. Edward also bestowed every attention in his power, but the delirium tremens had fixed upon his aged friend and his horrid imaginings continued for days.
It was impossible for Edward, who was the soul of humanity, to witness unmoved the doctor's terrible agony, and, at such seasons, he would invariably resolve that he would put forth an effort to reclaim him. "I will reason with him and show him the folly of his course," said he to himself.
When the invalid was able to bear conversation, Edward approached him on the subject as delicately as possible.
"Dr.," said he, "I am young to advise one like you, but if you would permit me, I think I could prescribe a remedy for your disease, and one that would ensure you a hale, hearty old age."
"I know what you would say, Edward," replied the Dr., rising upon his elbow, "but I cannot do it. I cannot let drink alone. I must drink if it kills me. Times without number I have forsworn it, and I will never add another broken vow to my perjured soul. If you would be useful in the cause of temperance, Edward, if you would save such as I, and, what is more important, if you would save the young, then use all your influence to stop the liquor traffic."
"Oh, I'm not at all ultra," said Edward, somewhat embarrassed, "I have never given the subject which you mention much thought."
"Then it is high time you should," said the Dr., warming up with a look of lofty enthusiasm, "I am sober now, Edward, and I may never be in my right mind again. I must drink to-day, I know I can get it, and I will have it; I suppose you would say, 'if he will go to the devil, let him go;' but I say, if there was no drink to be had, if it were not sold here, if it were not sold elsewhere, I could not get it, and I should be saved. A law prohibiting the sale of intoxicating drinks is what is most needed. I know these sentiments coming from one like me sound strangely, but, Edward, such a law enforced in my native state would have saved me, and I know it. Such a law now enforced in all our states would restore many a besotted husband to a broken-hearted wife; many a lost son to a widowed mother, many a darling brother to a distressed and mortified sister. It would bring light and gladness to thousands of sorrowful hearts and homes; it would feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Less blood would cry aloud to heaven for vengeance, and less crime of every description would be committed. This lovely territory will soon become a state; here you will rise to eminence in your profession. I know it will be so. You possess your father's talents, and you also possess his high social qualities, which, at one time, brought him to the verge of ruin. Judge Sherman did not at first love drink, but he often drank to please his friends. His associates tarried at the wine, and he would be one with them. The secret, Edward, of the fall of nine-tenths of our young men is social drinking; now, moral suasion has saved many, and no doubt will save many more. But would you give the serpent his death wound, then bring the arm of the law down upon him and it is done."
"The prohibitory liquor law of Maine has been said to have worked wonders," said Edward rather faintly, "but it is thought to be unconstitutional, by many of our best lawyers."
"Undoubtedly it has been so declared," said the Dr., "but I would be sorry to believe the opinion correct; would not you, Edward?"
The Dr. fixed his piercing eyes upon Edward, for he began to suspect that his young friend's views did not coincide with those which he had expressed.
Edward moved uneasily in his chair, bit his lips, and finally stammered out, "Well, I don't know Dr., really, it seems like depriving a man of his liberty to legislate upon what he shall, or shall not sell."
"Even if he sells that which he knows will craze his neighbor's brain, and cause him to commit the most atrocious crimes? When an individual directly, or indirectly aids and abets crime, ought he to escape punishment?"
Edward saw that he stood upon a plank of the rotten old platform, upon which so many have broken through, though they still hold to the decaying posts, and he ingeniously evaded the question.
"I'm afraid, Dr., you are over-exerting yourself," said he, "I will leave you to rest while I walk out and breathe the fresh air."
