The Mountain Girl. Erskine Payne

The Mountain Girl - Erskine Payne


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are about the same size, I think? Yes. Here are some things I laid out for you. You must look as much like me as possible, and as unlike yourself, you know. Sit here and we'll see what can be done for your head."

      "You're right fair, an' I'm dark."

      "Oh, that makes very little difference. It's the general appearance we must get at. Suppose I try to trim your hair a little so that lock on your forehead won't give you away."

      "I reckon I can do it. Hit's makin' you a heap o' trouble."

      David was pleased to note the boy's mood softening, and helped him on.

      "I'm no hand as a barber, but I'll try it a little; it's easier for me to get at than for you." He quickly and deftly cut away the falling curl, and even shaved the corners of the forehead a bit, and clipped the eyebrows to give them a different angle. "All this will grow again, you know. You only want it to last until the storm blows over."

      The youth surveyed himself in the mirror and smiled, but grimly. "I do look a heap different."

      "That's right; we want you to look like quite another man. And now for your chin. You can use a razor; here is warm water and soap. This suit of clothes is such as we tramp about in at home, different from anything you see up here, you know. I'll take my pipe and book and sit there on the rock and keep an eye out, lest any one climb up here to look around, and you can have the cabin all to yourself. You see what to do; make yourself look as if you came from my part of the world." Thryng glanced at his watch. "Work fast, but take time enough to do it well. Say half an hour, – will that do?"

      "Yas, I reckon."

      Then David left him, and the moments passed until an hour had slipped away, but still the youth did not appear, and he was on the point of calling out to him, when he saw the twisted form of little Hoyle scrambling up through the underbrush.

      "They're comin'," he panted, with wild and frightened eyes fixed on David's face. "I see 'em up the road, an' I heered 'em say they was goin' to hunt 'round the house good, an' then s'arch the cabin ovah Hanging Rock." The poor child burst into tears. "Do you 'low they'll shoot Frale, suh?"

      "They'd not reached the house when you saw them?"

      "They'll be thar by now, suh," sobbed the boy.

      "Then run and hide yourself. Crawl under the rock – into the smallest hole you can. They mustn't see that you have been here, and don't be frightened, little man. We'll look after Frale."

      The child disappeared like a squirrel in a hole, and Thryng went to the cabin door and knocked imperatively. It was opened instantly, and Frale stood transformed, his old, soiled garments lying in a heap at his side as if he had crept out of his chrysalis. A full half hour he had been lingering, abashed at himself and dreading to appear. The slight growth of adolescence was gone from lip and chin, and Thryng was amazed and satisfied.

      "Good," he cried. "You've done well."

      The youth smiled shamefacedly, yet held his head high. With the heavy golf stockings, knee breeches, and belted jacket, even to himself he seemed another man, and an older man he looked by five years.

      "Now keep your nerve, and square your shoulders and face the world with a straight look in the eye. You've thrown off the old man with these." David touched the heap of clothing on the floor with his foot. "Hoyle is here. He says the men are on their way here and have stopped at the house."

      Instead of turning pale as Thryng had expected, a dark flush came into Frale's face, and his hand clinched. It was the ferocity of fear, and not the deadliness of it, which seized him with a sort of terrible anger, that David felt through his silence.

      "Don't lose control of yourself, boy," he said, placing his hand gently on his shoulder and making his touch felt by the intimate closing of his slender fingers upon the firmly rounded, lean muscles beneath them.

      "Follow my directions, and be quick. Put your own clothes in this bag." He hastily tossed a few things out of his pigskin valise. "Cram them in; that's right. Don't leave a trace of yourself here for them to find. Pull this cap over your eyes, and walk straight down that path, and pass them by as if they were nothing to you. If they speak to you, of course nod to them and pass on. But if they ask you a question, say politely, 'Beg pardon?' just like that, as though you did not understand – and – wait. Don't hurry away from them as if you were afraid of them. They won't recognize you unless you give yourself away by your manner. See? Now say it over after me. Good! Take these cigars." He placed his own case in the boy's vest pocket.

      "Better leave 'em free, suh. I don't like to take all your things this-a-way." He handed back the case, and put them loose in his pocket.

      "Very well. If you smoke, just light this and walk on, and if they ask you anything about yourself, if you have seen a chap of the sort, understand, offer them each a cigar, and tell them no. Don't say 'I reckon not,' for that will give you away, and don't lift your cap, or they will see how roughly your hair is cut. Touch it as if you were going to lift it, only – so. I would take care not to arrive at the house while they are there; it will be easier for you to meet them on the path. It will be the sooner over."

      Thryng held out his hand, and Frale took it awkwardly, then turned away, swallowing the thanks he did not know how to utter. For the time being, David had conquered.

      The lad took a few steps and then turned back. "I'd like to thank you, suh, an' I'd like to pay fer these here – I 'low to get work an' send the money fer 'em."

      "Don't be troubled about that; we'll see later. Only remember one thing. I don't know what you've done, nor why you must run away like this – I haven't asked. I may be breaking the laws of the land as much as you in helping you off. I am doing it because, until I know of some downright evil in you, I'm bound to help you, and the best way to repay me will be for you to – you know – do right."

      "Are you doin' this fer her?" He looked off at the hills as he spoke, and not at the doctor.

      "Yes, for her and for you. Don't linger now, and don't forget my directions."

      The youth turned on the doctor a quick look. Thryng could not determine, as he thought it over afterward, if there was in it a trace of malevolence. It was like a flash of steel between them, even as they smiled and again bade each other good-by.

      For a time all was silent around Hanging Rock. Thryng sat reading and pondering, expecting each moment to hear voices from the direction Frale had taken. He could not help smiling as he thought over his attempt to make this mountain boy into the typical English tourist, and how unique an imitation was the result.

      He called out to comfort Hoyle's fearful little heart: "Your brother's all safe now. Come out here until we hear men's voices."

      "I better stay whar I be, I reckon. They won't talk none when they get nigh hyar."

      "Are you comfortable down there?"

      "Yas, suh."

      Hoyle was right. The two men detailed for this climb walked in silence, to give no warning of their approach, until they appeared in the rear of the cabin, and entered the shed where Frale's horse was stabled. Sure were they then that its owner was trapped at last.

      They were greatly surprised at finding the premises occupied. David continued his reading, unconcerned until addressed.

      "Good evenin', suh."

      He greeted them genially and invited them into his cabin, determined to treat them with as royal hospitality as was in his power. To offer them tea was hardly the thing, he reasoned, so he stirred up the fire, while descanting on the beauty of the location and the health-giving quality of the air, and when his kettle was boiling, he brought out from his limited stores whiskey, lemons, and sugar, and proceeded to brew them so fine a quality of English toddy as to warm the cockles of their hearts.

      Questioning them on his own account, he learned how best to get his supplies brought up the mountains, and many things about the region interesting to him. At last one of them ventured a remark about the horse and how he came by him, at which he explained very frankly that the widow down below had allowed him the use of the animal for his keep until her son returned.

      They "'lowed


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