“That’s the Commander’s idea. As a hostage for those you’ve arrested, and I reckon what the Capt’n says will prevail. Good-by.” He shut the door and bolted it behind him, leaving Leech alone.
This, then, explained what Steve Allen meant by what he said. He was a prisoner, to be held as a hostage for those he had arrested. There was a bed in the room; and Leech was so fatigued that he fell asleep, and slept until he was awakened by the guard bringing him something to eat. This man, like the others, was masked, and he refused to talk at all.
“What will they do with me?” asked Leech.
“Depends on what orders you’ve given about those you’ve arrested,” said the man in a voice which Leech knew was feigned. He was going. Leech determined to make one more effort.
“Wait, please. I’m rich. No, I’m not rich; but I have friends who are who would pay well if you—if I were to get back to them.” His voice had grown confidential.
“Shouldn’t be surprised.” The tone was rather dry; but that might have been due to the fact that the voice was disguised. And as he appeared acquiescent, Leech took courage. He moved a little nearer to him. “I could make it worth your while to let me go,” he said, insinuatingly. The man waited. Leech’s hopes revived. McRaffle had sold out; why not buy this man? He was plainer. “Why not let me out?” The guard was considering. “Help me, and help me get hold of—just help me, and I will see that you and your friends receive full pardon, and will make you rich.”
The guard pulled off his mask. It was Steve Allen himself. “Good-night;” and he was gone, leaving Leech with his heart in his mouth.
There was great excitement in the County over the disappearance of Major Leech; but it was suppressed excitement, and, curious as it may seem, his absence had the immediate effect of quieting the negroes. They were struck with awe at either the boldness or the mystery of his abduction, and almost within a night after he disappeared they had subsided. One who had seen them parading and yelling with defiance and delight the day that Leech led his handcuffed prisoners to the station to ship them off to prison, would not have recognized the awe-struck and civil people who now went back and forth so quietly to their work. It seemed almost a miracle.
All sorts of tales were published in the public press as to this latest outrage, and there was much denunciation; but no action was taken immediately, and for a time, at least, the old County was once more under the rule of its own citizens.
Owing partly to the letter Leech had written just before his disappearance, and partly to the request of the Captain of the company, who was heartily tired of his work, an order had been issued transferring that officer’s company to another post; and he had left with his company before the fact of Leech’s abduction became known. An appeal was made to the Governor to declare the County under martial law; but though he talked about it loudly enough, and made many threats, he did not carry out his threats immediately. Perhaps the Governor was not too anxious to go into an investigation that might, instead of proving Leech to have been murdered, result in bringing back into the field his most formidable rival.