“But, Tom,” said I, “didn’t you know all the while that the part you have taken in this miserable business would become known sooner or later?”
“Yes, I did; I couldn’t help knowing it, but I wanted to keep it hidden as long as I could. I stuck to Luke Redman, and helped him by every means in my power, until he told me that I was a prisoner, and at that moment he made an enemy of me. He must look out for his own bacon now. I know what his plans are, and I’ll ruin them if I can, no matter what happens to myself. I’ll teach him a thing or two before I am done with him.”
Tom shook his head threateningly as he said this, and brought his fist down into the palm of his hand with a report like that of a pistol.
CHAPTER XIV.
TOM’S PLAN.
“There are one or two other things I should like to have you explain, Tom,” said I, after a little pause. “Who stole Black Bess?”
“That is another act which you can lay to my charge,” replied my fellow prisoner. “I knew by the way you fellows looked and acted that day that it would be well for me to keep as far as possible out of your reach, so after I landed from the canoe, fearing that you might jump on your horses and follow me, I slipped around to your camp and stole the mare. I brought her to this house and left her here, and Luke Redman has been riding her ever since. He says she is the swiftest thing in the shape of a horse he ever saw, and he is going to take her to Texas with him.”
“He shan’t do it,” said I. “I’ll follow him wherever he goes, and take her away from him. She is my own private property, and I’ll not give her up to any body. Do you know who burned our cotton gin?”
“Yes, Pete is the man. He did it to be revenged on your brother for setting his dogs on him. By the way, don’t let him put his hands on you if you can help it. He thinks you are Mark, and if he gets half a chance, he’ll thrash you within an inch of your life. Among us all we have kept the settlement in an uproar for the last few weeks, haven’t we? Barney and I have been at the bottom of almost every thing that has happened, and I am sorry enough for it now. If any one had told me two months ago that I should ever come to this, I would not have believed him. I have made an outlaw of myself. I can’t call any living person my friend—not even my uncle, for he will never forgive me for what I have done. If I could live over the last year of my life, I’ll bet you I would have a very different record to show. My first care would be to keep out of bad company. That is what has brought me where I am.”
For along time after this neither of us spoke. Tom looked down at the floor, and I looked at him. He was thinking over his past life, and I was wondering what the future had in store for him. I had at first been utterly amazed when I found how low he had fallen, but I was not so now. Knowing the life he had led for a long time past, it was unreasonable to expect any thing else. One can not handle coals without getting his hands black, and the longer the coals are handled the blacker the hands become.
When Tom first began to associate with the Swamp Dragoons, one year ago, he would have been greatly alarmed at the bare thought that he would ever become so depraved as to commit a robbery. This state of things had not been brought about in a moment—it was the work of months. One mean act led to a second a little worse, another and another followed, and now he was an outcast from home, and utterly friendless, for even Luke Redman and the Swamp Dragoons had deserted him. He was learning by experience that the way of the transgressor is always hard, and I did not wonder that the future looked dark to him.