The New Boys at Oakdale

by Morgan Scott

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE APPARITION IN THE WOODS.

  In the midst of the woods Shultz stopped to rest, seating himself upon alog against which he had stumbled. The clouds having dispersed, the moonwas silvering the tree-tops above his head, but it had not yet risenhigh enough to cast its light upon the ground of the little glade. Onevery hand were the mysterious night shadows of the woods.

  The boy's legs quivered as he sat there, grateful for this respite,although he felt that time was precious and he should waste no moments.No longer could he hear the village bells; they had ceased to ring, andhe was glad of that.

  It was a melancholy and terrible thing to feel himself an outcast and afugitive from justice, practically with the hand of mankind in generalturned against him. He had read stories of daring fugitives in similarpositions, and always the fugitives had seemed enfolded by a glamor ofromance, which had almost made him long to pass through such anexperience; but, now that the experience was his, it held no glamor, nosingle feature of allurement or romance. It was simply a horriblesituation, to be freed from which he felt that he would willingly giveup years of his life.

  That he could escape, he still had a faint hope; but it was faintindeed, and, had he heeded sober judgment, he would have put it aside assomething false and deceptive and merely adding to his suspense andtorture. With the telephone and telegraph, the surrounding country couldbe warned and every loophole stopped. With the bulk of the villagerssearching for him, it was simply a matter of time before he would be rundown.

  "I'll never give up," he kept telling himself; "I'll never give up tillthey catch me."

  He had always thought of the night woods at this season of the year assilent and lifeless. Now, however, resting upon that log, he becameaware of many strange sounds all around him. There seemed to be faintrustlings and whisperings, as if the very trees were telling one anotherthat he was there, and pointing him out with their bare, extending arms.Continually he kept turning his head to look first in one direction andthen in another. Several times he was startled by shadows that seemed tomove, but when he watched them more closely they were motionless enough.

  Nevertheless, the fancy that something was drawing nearer, creeping uponhim bit by bit, increased with the passing moments. He could feel itapproaching silently, stealthily, steadily. He had escaped the two menwho had tried to run him down, but there was something he could notescape, and, recalling what he had beheld through the window of hischamber, he leaped up and resumed his reckless flight.

  This way and that he turned and darted to avoid the trees and the denserthickets. The woods seemed endless. Long ere this, he told himself, heshould have passed through them and reached the Barville road.

  Presently before him the moonlight showed a broad open space, and with agasp of thankfulness he tottered forth from the forest. His clothes werein tatters. There was blood on his legs from the wounds inflicted by thebarbed wire fence. His hands and his face were scratched and bruised.Seeing him now, a stranger must surely have wondered with curiosity toknow what had brought him to such a pitiful plight.

  But the woods, they were behind him. The Barville road must be near athand. Not far away the moonlight showed him an orchard and somebuildings.

  He stopped, stood still, gazed at those buildings. There was somethingfamiliar about them. Farther away, to the right, he could see morehouses.

  "Where am I?" he muttered hoarsely. "So help me, that looks like Sage'shome! It is! it is! I got turned round in the woods. I've come straightback to the place where I entered."

  This was true. The houses down the road were the scattering ones uponthe outskirts of the village.

  Sickened by this discovery, Shultz remained some moments in doubt anduncertainty. Here and there he could see lights in the windows of thehouses. All Oakdale seemed awake. The bells had aroused the village, andeverywhere posses of men were searching. Should he attempt to followalong the edge of the woods and pass round Turkey Hill to the south, itwould bring him dangerously near town.

  "My only safety lies in the woods until I can get farther away," hedecided. "I can get through them all right if I keep my head. With themoon on my back, the shadows will guide me. I can get my bearings inevery little open space. I'll do it."

  Setting his teeth, he turned about and again plunged into the timber.Precious time had been lost through his blunder, but now, he toldhimself, he would master his fears and make no false steps.

  In time he came to an opening in the midst of the woods, where themoonlight fell upon the cleared ground. Half-way across this openingdread of the gloom at the far side made him falter. Again he wasoppressed by the conviction that something terrible and uncanny hadfollowed him in all his flight. Again he could feel it drawing nearerand nearer. Something like the sound of soft footsteps caused his heartto choke him, and, turning, he saw it coming.

  In the shadows an object advanced. It was like a human body, white fromthe waist upward, and this white portion, which he could plainly see,seemed to float in the air.

  But when the shadows were passed and it stepped forth into themoonlight, he perceived that the body was supported by legs encased indark trousers. The moonlight revealed more than that. He was lookinginto the face of Roy Hooker! Even as Roy's eyes had stared at himthrough the window of his chamber, they were now fastened upon him.Above those staring eyes, the turban-like bandage of white stillencircled Hooker's head.

  "Hooker!" groaned Shultz. "Oh, Hooker, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to doit!"

  The figure halted ten feet away. A hand was uplifted and extendedaccusingly. A voice--the voice of Hooker--demanded:

  "Shultz, where did that other ace come from?"

  The words sounded in a low, monotonous, dead-level tone. To Shultz, thevoice seemed hollow and lifeless, like the voice of the dead.

  He could not answer, but, flinging off the benumbing spell that hadchained him in his tracks, he whirled and fled again. Through the woodshe crashed and plunged like mad, almost blind with terror. Again andagain he half collided with trees. Vines and low branches tripped him.Falling, he scrambled up and ran on, absolutely heedless of what coursehe followed.

  In this manner he plunged at last into a deep gully. As he fell he triedto leap, and down he went in an upright position. When he struck thebottom, one foot twisted beneath him, and he dropped in a heap. A painshot through his leg.

  Getting his breath after the shock, he started to rise; but the momenthe tried to bear his weight on his right foot the pain jabbed himfrightfully, and he toppled over.

  "My leg is broken!" he sobbed. "Now I'm done for, sure!"