“They’ve got wind of something,” said Mr. Tinkham to Mr. Gray, “or else they are waiting for you to resume payment,—or else the widow’s got money from somewhere for her present necessities.”
“I don’t know what hope they can have of getting money out of me,” said Gray, with a laugh. “I’ve tangled everything up, so that Beal can’t find a thing to levy on. I have but one piece of property exposed, and that’s not in this State.”
“Where is it?” asked Tinkham.
“It’s in Kentucky, five miles back of Port William. I took it last week in a trade, and I haven’t yet made up my mind what to do with it.”
“That’s the very thing,” said Tinkham, with his little face drawn to a point,—“the very thing. Mrs. Dudley’s son came home from Port William yesterday, where he has been at school. They’ve heard of that land, I’m afraid; for Mrs. Dudley is very positive that she will not sell the claim at any price.”
“I’ll make a mortgage to my brother on that land, and send it off from the mail-boat as I go down to-morrow,” said Gray.
“That’ll be too late,” said Tinkham. “Beal will have his judgment recorded as soon as the packet gets there. You’d better go by the packet, get off, and see the mortgage recorded yourself, and then take the mail-boat.”
To this Gray agreed, and the next day, when Jack went on board the packet “Swiftsure,” he found Mr. Francis Gray going aboard also. Mr. Beal had warned Jack that he must not let anybody from the packet get to the clerk’s office ahead of him,—that the first paper deposited for record would take the land. Jack wondered why Mr. Francis Gray was aboard the packet, which went no farther than Madison, while Mr. Gray’s home was in Louisville. He soon guessed, however, that Gray meant to land at Port William, and so to head him off. Jack looked at Mr. Gray’s form, made plump by good feeding, and felt safe. He couldn’t be very dangerous in a foot-race. Jack reflected with much hopefulness that no boy in school could catch him in a straight-away run when he was fox. He would certainly leave the somewhat puffy Mr. Francis Gray behind.
But in the hour’s run down the river, including two landings at Minuit’s and Craig’s, Jack had time to remember that Francis Gray was a cunning man and might head him off by some trick or other. A vague fear took possession of him, and he resolved to be first off the boat before any pretext could be invented to stop him.
Meantime, Francis Gray had looked at Jack’s lithe legs with apprehension. “I can never beat that boy,” he had reflected. “My running days are over.” Finding among the deck passengers a young fellow who looked as though he needed money, Gray approached him with this question: