Anne’s imagination was equal to the occasion. “You know he’s a Socialist, and he doesn’t like war. Cousin Mayo has brought him here to hide, to keep the kaiser from making him be a soldier, and he doesn’t want any one to know he’s here.�
“He might have told us. We’d never let any one know,� said Patsy.
“Never!� Anne agreed emphatically.
The girls took the path by Happy Acres. If they had gone by the mill, they would have met Dick, who had chosen this afternoon for one of his visits to the mine that were now rare because of failing interest and because this year he was heart and hand with the others in war gardening. But there was nothing to do in the garden now, and this was too good an outdoors day not to go adventuring. His hopes and spirits rose with the crisp, brilliant weather. He had found some silver; he might find a great deal. He had as good tools as the old blacksmith. How grand it would be to find a big lump of solid silver! He would buy a Liberty Bond and give a lot of money to the Red Cross. How all the other boys would envy him! And the girls would know he was “some boy!�
He scurried along the Old Plank Road until he reached Mine Creek, where the path turned off to the Old Sterling Mine. Suddenly he stopped stock-still, listening intently. Yes, there were voices; and coming nearer. A dozen steps away was the tumbled-down cabin, the old blacksmith shop. He crept into the rubbish pile—it was little more—to wait till the people passed by. But they did not pass. They stopped at the creek. Dick, peeping between the logs, could see them plainly; they were two negro men, Solomon Gabe and his son Lincum.
Old Solomon Gabe, with wild, wandering eyes, was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself.
Lincum had a furtive, excited look. He was trying to fix his father’s attention. “I told him you knowed dat old place. Hey?� he said. “You c’n tell him all ’bout it, can’t you? Hey? He axed me to come wid him last night, but I wa’n’t gwine to project on dis road in de dark, not atter seem’ dat ha’nt so nigh here; up on dat hillside. Um-mm! It was graveyard white; higher’n de trees; wid gre’t big green eyes!�
For the first time the old man seemed to regard what his son was saying. He chanted over his last words: “Green eyes; gre’t green eyes; ghos’ white! Not on de hillside. Right here. I seed it.�
So it was Solomon Gabe Dick had run upon that night he was playing “ha’nt!� He had been so startled by the sudden appearance and the old man’s face was so distorted by terror that he had not recognized him. Of course it was Solomon Gabe!
The old negro was still speaking. “I seed it dat fust night I come to meet dat man. Right here. Down it went—clank-clankin’ like gallows chains—in de groun’; right whar yore foot is.�