Far Past the Frontier

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by James A. Braden


  CHAPTER XIII.

  The Strange Story of Arthur Bridges.

  Putting down his book, Ree looked thoughtfully into Tom's face.

  "Of course," said he, "John and I have wondered about that--thatmatter--but we have considered that you had some reason for not talkingof it, or telling us what it meant; and it was really none of ourbusiness. But I want to say, Tom, that I would rather you would not tellme anything which I must keep from John. He and I--well, you know how wehave always been together, and we have no secrets from each other."

  "Bless ye, Ree, lad," exclaimed the old woodsman, "ye kin tell him all yeplease of what I'm goin' to tell ye. The only reason I don't talk beforehim is--he's so full o' fun ye know; and ain't always keerful what hesays. I don't keer when we're spinnin' yarns; but this here--it ain't notriflin' thing."

  "It's John's way. He would not hurt your feelings for anything, Tom."

  The hunter did not answer at once, but buried his face in his hands. Reecould plainly see that some great trouble was on his mind. Presently,however, he raised his head, and with a sigh clasped his hands over hisknee.

  "Arthur Bridges," he began, "was as fine a young feller as ever theColonies produced; an' excep' for bein' a little wild, ye wouldn't a'asked to clap yer eyes on a promisin'er chap. It was odd he made up t' methe way he did, me bein' old enough to be his father, a'most, but ye seewe was both at Valley Forge together, an' all men was brothers there. Wehad jist one pair o' shoes betwist us,--Art an' me--an' he wore 'em oneday, an' me the next, an' so on. When grub was scant, we shared each witht'other, an' when he got down sick I took keer on him.

  "Art tol' me all about himself then, an' it was pitiful. His ol' pap backin Connecticut was as pesky an' ol' Tory as ever did the Continentaltroops a bad turn; but his mother was loyal as anybody could be. She wasborn an' bred in this kentry, an' her husband had come from England; thatwas just the difference betwixt 'em, to start on. The upshot on it was,that Art believed as his mother did, an' it was nat'ral as could be thathe should run off an' join General Washington's army. That is what he didanyhow, an' his father swore that he hoped the lad would be killed,though his mother was prayin' for his safety night an' day.

  "Once in a long time Art would get some word from home--always from hismother, tellin' him to stick true through thick an' thin an' all wouldcome right by an' by. I guess maybe he believed it would, too; but Ididn't ever have much hope on it myself. Bein' a little wild, as ye mightsay, Art got wilder yet in the army, though there was always a great lovefor his mother in him. But he got so toward the last that he hated hisfather--yes, hated him fearful. Then for a long stretch he didn't hearnothin' from home an' didn't see anybody as had heard anything about hisfolks.

  "That's how matters stood when the war was over. He says to me as how hewas goin' home, anyhow, an' I tol' him he better do that same. As for me,I was always for rovin' an' I lit out for Kaintucky which we was hearin'was a great place for fightin' an' huntin'. So that's how it come aboutthat Art an' me parted company.

  "I was in Kaintucky an' 'round thar for more'n four years; some o' thetime with Col. Boone an' some o' the time with other chaps. Then I got tolongin' to go back east an' I went. I wasn't thinkin' o' meetin' up withArt Bridges again, as I reckoned on him bein' up in Connecticut allsettled down an' married, prob'ly. But who should I meet up with one daybut Art himself, lookin' wilder an' more reckless than when I seen himlast. He comes up to me and slaps me on the shoulder an' calls me by namea'most before I knowed him. An' it did give me a big surprise to see howhe had changed; not so much in looks as in his ways. He was that roughlike. After a while he tol' me all about himself, an' I could a jistcried tears for him like a baby.

  "He had got started home, he tol' me, after the fightin' was over, an' Idon't know but he might a' been pretty near there--I don't justremember--but anyhow, who should he meet up with one day in a tavern, buta cousin o' his who looked so much like him they would 'a passed fortwins anywhere. This here cousin's name was Ichabod Nesbit, an' the firstthing he did when he saw Art was to shake hands with him like they was ata funeral an' say as how he had some awful bad news to tell him. An' thenhe went on to tell him as how his mother had died months before, an' hisol' pap was livin' on an' cursin' the Colonies with pretty nigh everybreath--an' cursin' his own son. This Nesbit feller told Art, too, as howthe ol' man had run through all his property an' was livin' alone an'actin' like a crazy man.

  "Waal, Art was for goin' back to see the ol' man anyhow, to see if hecouldn't do somethin' to straighten him up some; but this cousin,Ichabod, tol' him as how he hadn't better do it, sayin' as how if hecould come home an' bring a fortune, folks would say it was all right;but if he was comin' home with only the clothes on his back, why, he hadbetter stay away; because he couldn't do nothin' with his father anyhow.An' somehow this is jist the way Art was brought to look at it, an' itupset him terrible. For of course the soldiers didn't have no pocket fullo' money an' it was pretty true, likewise, as how he didn't have muchmore'n the clothes on his back, jist as Ichabod said. Pretty blue, an' a'most sick from all his plans o' goin' home bein' spoiled, Art turned backright thar and led a rovin' life for years. He was quick an' sharp, an'picked up a livin', but that was 'bout all for he couldn't settle down noplace.

  "All this an' a lot more 'bout what he had been doin', Art tol' me therein Philadelphia, an' I was for gettin' him to go back west with me. Butno, he wouldn't; an' me bein' no hand to make out around the towns, Ijist went back to the frontier an' beyond. I was in Kaintucky an' in thisnorthwest kentry clean to Detroit. I got to know Simon Kenton, the Injunfighter, an' I made some big huntin' an' fightin' trips with him an'other fellers.

  "An' so time run along till this last summer a year ago, I takes it intomy head one day to go east agin; an' when I had my mind made up there wasno stoppin' me. I didn't go to Philadelphia right off, but to New York. Iwanted to see the big piles o' furs that come in thar.

  "Now it turned out that one day in New York who should I meet up with butJoel Downs who was with us--Art an' me--in the army. We was talkin' awaythar, when he asked me did I know what had ever become o' Art Bridges?An' it turned out that he went on to tell me then all 'bout how Art'sfather was dead, an' his mother left alone, workin' hard to manage thefarm, though they was well off, because she wanted Art to have a niceplace when he come home. For she wouldn't believe the stories that wastold around (by Ichabod Nesbit, I've been thinkin') that Art was dead. Soshe was waitin' an' waitin' for Art to come an' never knowin' how thepoor boy had been lied to by his 'ornery cousin, an' thinkin' he'd comesome day.

  "Waal, ye kin jist guess how I felt when I heard all this! For I sawthrough it quicker'n wink that that 'ornery Ichabod was tryin' to makefolks think Art was dead, an' schemin' to get hold of the property thatwould be Art's if he ever come home alive. But I never says a word 'boutthis to Joel Downs. Not much! I wasn't goin' to have him goin' back toConnecticut tellin' folks as how Art was leadin' a wild life an' goin' tothe dogs.

  "No, sir; I jist begun huntin' for Art Bridges. I went to Philadelphiafirst, an' got some track on him, findin' out as how he had gone off toKaintucky--lookin' for me, I guess. I went off to Kaintucky too, jist asfast as I could. I got some track on him again, as how he had gone backto Philadelphia, We must 'a passed on the road somewheres. Back toPhiladelphia I went again, an' found out as how Art had gone west toDuquesne--Fort Pitt, or Pittsburgh they call it now. So I started forFort Pitt, an' on the way I met up with you young kittens on your wayinto this red devils' own kentry.

  "An' I come on into this kentry because I found out at Fort Pitt that Arthad gone on west intendin' to make his way to Detroit, huntin' an'trappin' an' tradin'. He expected to go on to Detroit next spring an' geta place with a big fur company in charge o' some tradin' post or other,away off somewheres, he didn't keer where--he was jist that sick of thekind o' life he was leadin', an' wanted to get 'way off from everybody.

  "But that ain't all! There was a man thar as said Ichabod Ne
sbit had beenseen 'round thar, an' he was lookin' for Art Bridges, too. An' I knowthat that 'ornery cousin was lookin' for Art to murder him. I felt it inmy bones. He wanted to be sure Art was dead an' then he would go back an'pass himself off as Art Bridges an' have the property anyhow. Then whenI heard as how Ichabod had passed himself off as Art in one place, I wassure I was right. But he didn't need to do no murder 'nless it was him ashired the bloody varmints to do it for him," and the hunter's voice grewhusky, "for that--that thar scalp--it was Art Bridges'--an' oh, if I hadbeen jist a day sooner! For the blood on it was hardly more'n dry!"

  Tom Fish sunk his face in his hands and a convulsive half-sob, half-sighshook his body from head to foot, as though with ague.

  Ree Kingdom drew nearer the sorrow-stricken man and took his big hand inhis own.

  "Tom," he said, "it is a sad, sad story. I know just what you suffer. Butlisten, Tom. It is not absolutely certain that the scalp we saw was thatof your friend. No man could positively swear to it, just by seeing thecolor of the hair. And here is another thing I have been wanting to tellyou, Tom, but I did not like to interrupt you. I know how Arthur Bridges'mother has been waiting and waiting for him to come. I have heard whatshe has suffered, for she is a sister of a Mrs. Catesby at whose home Ilived and who was like a mother to me. But Mrs. Catesby's husband, who isnow dead, was not an agreeable man and the sisters hardly ever saw eachother. They lived far apart, but now Mrs. Catesby has moved to town andthey will be nearer one another. Mrs. Catesby was so kind to me, Tom,that I would be mean indeed if I would not try to help you find hernephew. But I will help you, and if he is now in this part of the countrywe will hear of him sooner or later through the Indians."

  "No, there is only one thing to do, an' it is for me to do it," Tom Fishreplied without looking up. "You can't help, Ree, an' ye'd only get intoa row an' spoil all yer own plans. It is fer me to squar' accounts--an'I'll--do it. For I tell, ye, Ree, I ain't mistaken. I'd know that silkydark ha'r of Art Bridges' if I seen it in Jerusalem. Oh, it's toobad--it's too bad!"

  Ree could make no answer, and in another minute Tom Fish straightened upand said he would turn in. He told Ree to do the same, and as he layhimself down the boy heard him saying:

  "We must all die--all die--an' them that's left can only squar'accounts."

  Never before had the land of friends and civilization seemed to Ree to beso far away as it did that night. His busy thoughts kept him awake untilnearly morning. He knew what Tom Fish meant when he said he would "squar'accounts." In other words he would make the Delawares pay for ArtBridges' death. There would undoubtedly he trouble which would put an endto their plans for trading and home-making in this new country. Theycould not fight the redskins one day, and be received as peaceabletraders the next.

  And on the other hand, if Arthur Bridges, a peaceable trader, had beenmurdered, might he and John not be in greatest danger of the same fate?Was it not true that the Indians were treacherous and not to be trustedthough they seemed friendly? Even if Tom began the fight alone, would notthe Indians blame him and John as being friends of his, and attack them?

  At last Ree went to sleep, resolving to persuade Tom Fish to awaitdevelopments. He believed they could find out through Fishing Bird justwhere and how the bloody trophy which was at the root of theirdifficulty, had been secured. That might throw great light on theproblem.

  John was early astir next morning and began preparations for the visit tothe Indian town for the council meeting at which the bargain for theirland was to be finally confirmed. Ree was strangely silent as he alsoarose and ate the breakfast which John had ready.

  Tom Fish likewise had nothing to say except that he stated that he wouldremain at the cabin while the boys were away, and might be doing somework at chinking the walls.

  It was in the early winter, but the day came out bright and clear.Greatly the boys enjoyed the bright sunshine and the bracing air as theytook their way through the woods, crossing the river at last, andfollowing a much used trail which took them toward the Delawares'village. This was a new route to them, but it was the course the Indianstraveled and they found it better than the unbroken way they hadpreviously taken in going to the lake beside which Capt. Pipe's peoplelived. As they walked along Ree told the story of Arthur Bridges as Tomhad told it to him, and earnestly they discussed their situation.

  In three hours the boys came to the Indian town, and Capt. Pipe called acouncil to settle the bargain for the land. There was speech making asbefore, but less of it, and then came a feast. But this too, was lessformal than before. The Indians seemed about to go on a huntingexpedition and had less time for other matters.

  The Delawares promised to do much trading with the young Palefaces, andthe boys would have considered their prospects very bright had it notbeen for the likelihood of trouble arising through Tom Fish's desire forrevenge.

  The little information Ree secured from Fishing Bird was not at allre-assuring, either. That agreeable, but none the less wily, savage wouldgive him no satisfaction when he questioned him concerning the bloodytrophy Big Buffalo had had, declaring, indeed, that no white man had beenkilled by the Delawares for a very long time.

  The boys started on their homeward way in time to arrive before dark, andreached the clearing just after sundown. With a hop, step and jump Johnran forward and up the ascent, to the door.

  "Why, where is Tom?" he called as he entered. "The fire is out and thereis no sign of him anywhere. He said he would stay here all day."

 

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