"Can't tell you. Massar said I musn't tell." And Uncle Pius continued his measured steps to and fro, with his head resting upon his breast and his hands clutching his heavy cane behind his back. Owen continued his work. He knew that the best way to get a secret from Uncle Pius was to appear entirely indifferent in regard to it. The old negro walked from one end of the barn to the other several times, then he came to a halt directly in front of Owen.
"I know'd it," he repeated. "I know'd it all 'long. I know'd dar wasn't no corn in dat crib."
The buzz of the mill-wheel was the only answer he received. Uncle Pius turned and started off; but he had not gone ten feet before he retraced his steps.
"I know'd dar wasn't no corn in dat crib. I know'd dar wasn't. I know'd dar wasn't. I'se said so all 'long!" And Uncle Pius brought his massive cane down upon the barn floor.
Still the wheel twirled on; and still Owen was silent.
"Den dat ole Bowen! I know'd he's a rascal. I know'd it all 'long," continued the old negro, becoming more and more excited at every word he uttered.
It was with difficulty that Owen remained silent now. From a few words that his father had dropped at table, he had concluded that Mr. Lane's visit was in some way connected with Louis Bowen. Mr. Lane was sheriff now—had he come to arrest the old villain? But the corn-crib; why did Uncle Pius mention it? The boy's curiosity was soon satisfied; for Uncle Pius had come to tell his story.
The old negro went back to the night of the previous autumn when Bowen's corn-crib had burned. He reminded Owen of the fact that he, Uncle Pius, had stated, and rightly so, that there was no corn in the crib; for old Bowen had hauled it all away to a cave near the river, where, together with two robbers whom Mr. Lane had arrested, he had been making whisky for three years. The two robbers were now in jail, and the sheriff had gone down the river to find the cave and arrest Louis Bowen. But worst of all, as Mr. Lane had promised to return on the second day to get help if he had not succeeded by that time in making the arrest, and had not yet appeared, Mr. Howard was afraid that the sheriff had been killed by the villain.
Owen's heart beat faster and faster as he listened to Uncle Pius; faster and faster, too, in his excitement he made the wheel spin around. Thought after thought rushed through his mind. Mr. Lane was now in Louis Bowen's power—perhaps wounded—perhaps dead. Was there no way to bring him help? Could not Owen tell his father that he knew of the cave and persuade him to start at once to rescue Mr. Lane?
But why not go alone? Better still, get Martin Cooper to accompany him. They could reach the cave early in the night and bring assistance to a friend who needed their help. They could frustrate the design of a villain who had sought their lives.