CHAPTER XV.
THAD GETS A SHOCK.
The arrival of the little Tramp did not create anything like the commotion which marked the landing of the big stern-wheel river steam-boat.
A few darkies idling on the shore drew near, filled with curiosity when they discovered that only two boys comprised the crew of the floating craft; and Dixie barked strenuously at them, as if to let the community know that while the shanty-boat failed to possess a whistle, it was not without some means of announcing its arrival.
Thad threw a rope ashore to one of these blacks, who whipped it about a post, and the boat presently lay alongside the landing.
"You go ashore and ask questions."
It was Thad who said this, because he knew his chum was so much better able to probe things than himself.
"All right," replied Maurice, readily, "and you can look after the boat; though likely enough none of these fellows will try to run away with it."
"Well, I don't mean to give them half a chance. Just think what would become of us if such a thing happened. We'd have to go to work on a cotton plantation, sure, to make money enough to get further along. I've got the good old Marlin handy, Maurice, and just let any thief try to come aboard, that's all. I'll pepper his hide for him, and salt it in the bargain," declared Thad, resolutely.
"I believe you would, boy," laughed his comrade, as he stepped from the deck to the shore.
He had already noted that Morehead did not appear to be much of a place. Indeed, beyond the piles of cordwood, and a few scattered cabins, there did not seem to be anything of a settlement.
"Only excuse it has for being on the map is that some steamers find it convenient to stop and wood up here. That woodyard is the whole thing," thought Maurice. He turned upon the negro who had whipped the cable around the post in an obliging way.
"Where can I find the man who runs the woodyard?" he asked.
"'Deed, I reckon he am in hees store dar, boss," came the reply.
"A store, eh? Where is it situated?" continued Maurice, bent on following up the clue.
"See dat flare up yander—dat am de light in de windy. Mars Kim he keep gen'ral 'sortment ob goods. On'y place to buy grits in ten mile," observed the other, pointing.
"What is his name?" asked the boy, deeming it only right that he should be fully armed with this much information before starting in to interview the other.
"Mars Kim, fuh sho'! Dat's wat we allers calls him, boss. Reckons, as how yuh haint gut sech a ting as some terbaccy 'bout yuh, now? I'se done clean out."
Maurice shook his head in the negative.
"I'm sorry, but you see, I don't smoke," he remarked.
He would have willingly tossed the moke a nickel for his readiness to assist them; but truth to tell, even such small coin happened to be at a premium with the voyagers just then—although they carried a small fortune in yellowbacks, not for worlds would they think of making use of a single bill for their own benefit—it was a sacred trust in their eyes.
He strode over to the building where the brilliant light in the window announced headquarters. Closer investigation disclosed the fact that the glow was caused by an acetylene lamp which piece of enterprise doubtless caused the storekeeper to assume a high place in the estimation of the lazy negroes, and shiftless "white trash" of the neighborhood.
It was a general country store.
Maurice had seen many such, though, as this one happened to be at a point much further south than the others, it doubtless contained features that stamped it unique in his eyes.
But they had no money to spend in groceries just then; and it was an entirely different errand that caused him to venture into the establishment.
Over the door he noticed a sign which he was just able to read.
It at least gave him the name of the proprietor.
Store, and Office of Woodyard. Kim. Stallings, Prop.
A gawky clerk, undoubtedly of the "cracker" persuasion, was waiting on several dusky customers, and vainly endeavoring to keep them in a clump, as if he feared to let the bunch scatter, lest certain unprotected articles vanish with their departure.
Looking further Maurice discovered that over in one quarter there seemed to be a sort of enclosure, over which was the significant notice "P. O."
He could see that some one was behind the gaudy brass grillwork; and believing that this was likely to be the proprietor, engaged in entering upon his books that late delivery of cordwood to the steamboat, the boy moved that way.
As he stood there in front of the little opening the man beyond looked up. He seemed surprised to see a stranger.
"Evenin', sah. What can I do foh you?" he asked politely, upon discovering that it was a white person.
"Is this Mr. Stallings?" asked Maurice.
"Yes, sah, that is my name," replied the other, curiously.
"I have just come off a shanty-boat that is tied up here. I have a chum with me on the boat. We want to find a man by the name of George Stormways. Can you tell me if he happens to live near by?"
"Huh!"
The owner of the woodyard and country store bent forward still more and took a closer look at the speaker. It seemed to Maurice as though Mr. Stallings had suddenly become more deeply interested in the personality of the stranger, though he could not give even a guess just why that should be so.
"George Stormways," repeated Maurice, slowly and deliberately, as though he wanted the other to fully understand.
"Why, yes he gits his mail hyah, sah; leastways, he allers used tuh come hyah tuh trade, when he had any money. George worked foh me a long spell, till the shakes knocked him out," said the other, finally.
Maurice had been studying the man. He believed he could see honesty in his thin sallow face, but hesitated to say anything about the real motive that influenced himself and chum to stop in order to hunt up George Stormways.
Such a secret had better be confined to as few persons as possible. Still, that would not prevent him from saying that he had some good news for the man he sought.
"How far away from the Landing does he live, Mr. Stallings?" he asked, promptly.
"Reckons as how it air all o' fo' mile, sah. An' in the present disturbed condition o' the country, mebbe, sah, it would be wise foh you to defer yuh visit thah to mawnin'," came the reply.
"I reckon we'll have to, sir, if we can tie up below the landing without getting in the way. We want to see George and his wife the worst kind, and couldn't think of going on down the river without making a big effort to do so. Yes, we'll spend a day at Morehead, and get acquainted. I only wish we were better supplied with cash, so we might trade with you; but just now it happens we're on rock bottom."
The other seemed to be fairly consumed by curiosity. Never before had he known such a bright lad to be drifting south on a shanty- boat. Usually those aboard such craft were seasoned river travelers, men who lived on the water, "Mississippi tramps," as they are called, some of whom MIGHT be honest, though he judged the entire lot by the character of a few, and they the worst.
But here was a bright, wide-awake boy, with a face that somehow interested him, despite his inborn suspicion.
"What did yuh say yuh name might be, sah?" he asked.
"I didn't happen to mention it, but it is Maurice Pemberton. We are both natives of Kentucky, and on the way to New Orleans to meet my uncle, who is captain of a big steamer, due there in February."
"Would yuh please step around to the side, an' oblige me by coming in hyah. Seems like I feel an interest in yuh-all, and if yuh felt like tellin' me the story I'd be obliged."
Maurice was only too willing to oblige. At the same time he continued to hold to his resolution to handle the subject of the money with due caution. Mr. Stallings was undoubtedly perfectly trustworthy; but the information might get afoot, and cause trouble.
Of course he could not decline to make a friend of the storekeeper, who had taken an interest in the voyage of the little Tramp. Maurice was only a boy, but he knew that one could never have too many friends in this world.
So he followed directions, and was speedily seated alongside Kim.
Stallings, telling him all about how the voyage happened to begin.
The man became greatly interested as he proceeded and read the wonderful letter from Uncle Ambrose with kindling eyes.
"Glad yuh stopped in hyah, Maurice; glad tuh have met up with yuh; and if so be yuh are short with cash, I wouldn't mind trustin' yuh foh some grits and such like. I reckons sho' yuh'd send the money aftah yuh met with this uncle. So don't yuh go tuh worryin' 'bout gettin' on short rations, my boy," remarked Kim. Stallings, after he had talked with the other for some little time.
"That's awful fine of you to say so, Mr. Stalling. Perhaps we'll take you up, though my chum is against running in debt a cent. But we have a long trip ahead of us yet, and to stop over and go to work to earn money enough to buy grub might keep us from getting down to Orleans in time to meet Uncle Ambrose."
Maurice insisted upon shaking the lean hand of the Dixie storekeeper as he said this, an operation to which the other did not seem in the least averse.
"But yuh said that yuh wanted to meet up with George Stromway the wust kind," continued the man, kindly; "in the mawnin' I'll start yuh right. P'raps one o' his kids might be 'round tuh take yuh through the woods, and 'round the swamps, foh it's ticklish travelin' with a stranger, sah."
"We have some good news for George," admitted the boy.
"Well, now, I'm glad tuh hyah that same. I reckon he needs it right bad around now. Nawthin' ain't a gwine tuh do pore George any lastin' good till he pulls up stakes an' gits outen this low kentry. If he was only on a farm up on higher land I reckon the shakes'd give the critter the go-by. But George, he cain't never raise the money he'd have tuh put up, tuh rent a farm an' buy the stock foh it."
"Would it take very much?" queried Maurice, trying to appear quite unconcerned, though he was really quivering with eagerness.
The storekeeper looked at him and smiled, as though he could read the boy's face like a printed book.
"Oh! not so very much, sah. I done reckons as how a couple o' hundred'd do the trick; but that means a heap o' money tuh a pore feller like George. He done tole me a year back that some relative o' hisn up-Nawth was a thinkin' o' comin' down with some cash, an' settin' o' him up on a farm; but it all seemed to blow over. He was nigh broke up about it, too, sah, I tell yuh."
Maurice could not hold in altogether.
"It was his wife's father, old The. Badgeley. My chum knew him well. He didn't come because he died. But he left something for his daughter. He called her Bunny, and I don't even know her name," he said.
"That sounds real good, sah; and I sure am glad tuh heah it. I've done all I could afford foh George; but he don't seem to hold out. Many times he's kim back to work foh me, an' broke down. It'll be a godsend foh the pore feller, if so be he kin pull out. I'll see that you git a fair start in the mawnin' sah, I shore will."
Maurice began to fear that his chum might be growing anxious about him, so he got up to leave.
"Nothin' yuh-uns 'd like tuh have to-night?" inquired Mr.
Stallings, as he shook hands warmly at parting.
Maurice smiled and shook his head.
"There's lots we need," he said; "but I wouldn't dare think of accepting your kind offer without consulting Thad. He's queer about running up debts. But in the morning we'll both see you again."
So he said good night, and went out, resolutely shutting his eyes to the abundance of good things to eat that greeted him on every side.
Thad was eagerly waiting for him, and the other could see that he was brimming over with excitement.
"Say, if it wasn't for wanting to meet up with George so bad I'd be for dropping down river five miles, and giving this beastly old place the go-by," he said, as Maurice came aboard.
"Why, what on earth is the matter?" asked the other, dismayed.
"Then you didn't hear anything about it, eh? I reckon it's such a common occurrence around this part of the country they don't think anything about it," continued Thad, seriously.
"Why, whatever in the wide world are you talking about, son?" demanded Maurice, greatly puzzled to account for this new evidence of timidity on the part of his friend, who, as a usual thing, had always seemed bold enough.
"I don't like it so close, that's all. I bet you I dream of the thing tonight, and every time I look up it seems like my eyes always went straight there."
He pointed up the bank.
Maurice followed his extended forefinger to a point just a little further along, where some trees stood.
He could see some object that seemed to move to and fro like the exhausted pendulum of a clock.
Apparently it was suspended from a limb, and as Maurice caught the true significance of what his chum meant, he felt a cold chill pass through his frame.
"Say, do you mean to tell me that is a man hanging there?" he asked; and if his voice took on a sudden hoarseness, it was not to be wondered at under the circumstances.
"I just reckon it must be," returned Thad, pleased to note that his comrade seemed just as filled with horror as he himself had been.
"But do you KNOW it is—did any of those coons tell you so?" persisted the other.
"N-no, because, you see, Maurice, I never noticed it when they were around. The moon, managed to climb up while you were gone; and then I just happened to see it. Ugh! I've done mighty little else but stare at it ever since."
"But perhaps you may be mistaken, Thad."
"Sure; but don't forget that we're away down in Dixie, now; where they hang a darky without bothering trying him, if so be he's shot a white man. And don't it LOOK like it—tell me that, Maurice?" went on the late guardian of the shanty boat.
"Oh! I admit that it does, all right. But if you think I'm going to let the whole night go by without investigating this thing, you're away off."
Maurice turned resolutely around as he spoke.
"Where are you going?" demanded his chum, nervously.
"Ashore again to see. If that is a man, I rather think Mr. Stalling would have said something to me about it; though now that I think of it he did hint that it wasn't altogether safe for a stranger to go wandering off into the woods and swamps right now. Perhaps it's just as you say, and this is some black thief they caught. But I hope you're mistaken, Thad."
"I do, too, because you see I want some sleep tonight. But hold on."
"What's the matter now?" asked the other, as Thad caught his arm.
"I'm going with you, that's all," and accordingly he stepped ashore, carrying the gun along with him.
They approached the suspicious object with more or less display of valor; though doubtless the hearts of both lads beat like trip- hammers from the unwonted excitement.
The moon, which had been partly hidden by some fleecy, low-lying clouds, now took a sudden notion to sail into a clear patch of blue sky; and in consequence objects could be much more readily seen.
Both lads strained their eyes to discover how much truth there might be in the grim suspicions of Thad.
Not until they were close up to the strangely swaying object could they fully decide as to its character.
Then Thad gave a grunt, while Maurice laughed.
"That's the way with most ghosts, Thad; when you get close up they just turn out to be something awfully common and you feel sick to think what you imagined," remarked Maurice, as he put up his hand and took hold of the swinging object.
"Say, who'd imagine now that they'd hang up an old bundle of wraps off goods, like this?" said Thad, in disgust.
"But you can sleep all right now," remarked his friend, not a little relieved himself to find that they were not up against one of those grim tragedies that have been so common through the country of the lower Mississippi.
"That's right. Let's get back home. I want to hear what you picked up about George," declared Thad, a little confused.
And accordingly they once more went aboard the boat, seeking the comfortable interior of the cabin, where Maurice could spin his yarn, and a council of war be called to decide on many matters.