The Mystery of the Locks

by E. W. Howe

"Think of that, will you," Tug continued, addressing Silas again. "He can cut corn, and plough, and all that, and only eleven years old. Why, when he gets to be thirteen or fourteen he will whip old Quade, and take possession of the farm! What could I do when I was eleven years old? Nothing but whine, and I was always at it, although I was brought up in a house with three-ply carpets on the floor, and always treated well. I was treated too well, and I intend to make a man out of Ben by seeing that he is treated as mean as possible. Look here, you," he added turning toward the boy, "when old Quade fails to lick you twice a day, get your hat and run for me; and I'll try and make you so miserable that you'll amount to something as a man."

It was the opinion of Davy that Ben was meanly enough treated already, not only by his father, but by the farmer with whom he worked; for no one seemed to be kind to the boy except himself, and he made his long journeys to town for no other reason than to hear Davy's gentle voice. But Davy was afraid to say this to Tug, and in his weakness could do nothing to help him. In the present instance he looked out of the window.

"You are a fortunate boy in one respect, at least," the admiring father said to his son again. "Your mother hates you, and you have a prospect of becoming a man. Many a boy at your age has a good bed to sleep on, and plenty to eat, and will grow up into a loafer; but here you are on the high road to greatness. Had my father been a wise man, as your father is, I might have been a storekeeper now instead of what I am; therefore don't let me hear you complain—I'll give you something to complain about if I do. The ways of Providence may be a little mysterious to you now, you robust rascal; but when the Hon. Benjamin Whittle goes to Congress he will tell the reporter who writes him up that his father was a kind, thoughtful man who did a great deal for him."

There was something more than the darkness peering in at the window when Silas Davy looked that way; a good deal more—a strange man's face, which was flattened against the lower pane. At the moment that Silas saw him, the man seemed to be using his eyes in investigating the other corner of the room, for he did not know for a moment that he was detected. When his gaze met Silas Davy's, he quickly drew away from the window, and disappeared; but not until Silas remarked that it was a swarthy, malicious face, and that cunning and determination were expressed in its features. Silas was not at all astonished at the appearance, as was his custom; but when he looked at Tug again, to pay respectful attention to his next observation, he saw that he, too, had seen the face, for he was preparing to go out.

"Another stranger," Tug said, as he looked for his hat. "We are becoming a great town."

Silas asked no questions, but when his companion stepped into the dirty street, leaving little Ben alone, he followed, and walked a few paces behind him, as he hurried along in the direction of the inhabited portion of the town. As they neared the dismal lamps, and while they were yet in the darkness, they saw the figure of a tall man, enveloped in what seemed to be a waterproof cloak, turn into the main street, which ran parallel with the river, and walk toward the hotel where Davy was employed. But the man wearing the cloak did not stop there, except to examine a scrap of paper under the light; after which he turned again, and walked in the direction of The Locks. Silas and his companion followed, as rapidly as they could, for there were no lights now, and they stumbled over the hills, and into the gullies, until The Locks gate was reached, which they found ajar.

This strange circumstance did not deter them from entering at once, though quietly and with caution, and together they crept up the pavement, and up the front steps, through the front door, which was wide open, and up the stairway, until they stopped in front of the door leading into the room occupied by Allan Dorris.

Everything was still; and as they stood there in the dark, listening, Tug was surprised to find that Davy was in front of him, whereas he had believed that he was in his rear. Likewise Silas Davy was surprised, for while he was sure that Tug had passed him, and gone lightly down the stairs, a moment afterward he put his hand on him, and knew that he was bending over, and listening at the keyhole.

But nothing could be heard except the regular breathing of Allan Dorris as he slept in his chair, although they now realized that the mysterious stranger had passed them on the stairs, and was on the outside; so they crept down the stairs, and into the street, closing the door and gate after them.

Over the hills and into the hollows again; so they travelled back to their retreat down by the river, where they greatly surprised little Ben and the rats by opening the door suddenly and walking in upon them.