CHAPTER XXIII.
DR. MACKEY'S BOLD MOVE.
It must be confessed that Jack was startled, for he had not heard theapproach of the surgeon and his companions, who had come up noiselesslyand on foot.
"Hullo, you here?" asked Dr. Mackey, as he gazed at Jack in someastonishment.
"What brings you here, Dr. Mackey?" demanded our hero.
"I am looking for the dead or wounded in this neighborhood," was theanswer. "Whom have you here?"
"A guerrilla we shot down."
"Ha! who shot him?"
"I did. He was trying to steal our horses."
"Dr. Mackey, don't you know me?" came from the guerrilla.
"Pete Gendron!" muttered the surgeon. "I never expected to see youhere."
"Nor did I calkerlate to see you, doc. But I'm mighty glad yer come. Yekin git me out o' this fix."
As he spoke, the guerrilla eyed Dr. Mackey sharply. On more than oneoccasion he had been the doctor's tool, and now he thought it no morethan fair that the medical man should stand by him.
"Evidently you know this guerrilla," said Jack slowly.
"I do," answered the doctor slowly. He hardly knew how to proceed.
"I aint no guerrilla, an' Dr. Mackey kin prove it," cried Pete Gendron.The coming of the medical man had raised his spirits wonderfully.
"You are a guerrilla."
"I aint. Dr. Mackey will prove my words. He's a friend o' mine. Aint ye,doc?"
There was a peculiar emphasis to the guerrilla's words which made thesurgeon shift uneasily from one foot to the other.
"If I don't humor Gendron, he may expose me," thought the surgeondismally. "He knows too much to be made an enemy of."
"Is he your friend?" asked Jack.
"Not exactly my friend, Jack, but I know him pretty well," answered Dr.Mackey slowly, as if trying to feel his way.
"I aint a guerrilla, am I?" put in Pete Gendron eagerly.
"N--no, he is not a--a guerrilla," stammered the surgeon. "There must besome mistake."
"I want to be taken to the Confed'rate hospital," went on Pete Gendron.
"But he and his comrades were trying to steal our horses," said Jackfirmly.
"As I said before, my dear Jack, there must be some mistake," returnedthe surgeon smoothly. Suddenly his face brightened. "Gendron, you made amistake by leaving the hospital so soon. Your fighting in to-day'sbattle must have made you light-headed. You probably came here bymistake."
The guerrilla was crafty enough to seize upon the cue thus given.
"Thet must be the size on it," he murmured. "My head has felt queer eversince I got out in the sun. Reckon I aint accountable fer all myactions, doc."
"He is a perfectly honest man," said Dr. Mackey to Jack. "I have seenhim fight most bravely in half a dozen battles."
Jack felt that the surgeon was falsifying, but how could he prove it?Then he felt that there would be no use in keeping the guerrilla at theplantation.
"Well, take him away, if you want to," he answered. "But I shall stillhold my opinion of the rascal."
"You are as insulting as ever, Jack," sneered the medical man. "I camehere, hoping to find you of a different turn of mind."
"I shall never change my mind regarding you, Dr. Mackey," was our hero'sready reply.
"Come outside, I would like to talk to you in private."
The surgeon spoke in a whisper, and feeling there would be no harm inlistening to what he might have to say, Jack followed him into the open.
"I want to know what you intend to do about coming with me, Jack," saidthe medical man, when they were out of hearing distance of the others.
"I don't intend to go with you, Dr. Mackey."
"You are hard on your father."
"Once and for the last time, let me say that I do not acknowledge you asmy father."
"Nevertheless, I am your parent, and will soon be in a position to provemy claim."
"And when that time comes I may be in a position to prove you animpostor, Dr. Mackey."
"What! This to me!" ejaculated the medical man, in a rage.
"Yes, that to you."
"Boy, you are--are mad--you do not know what you are saying."
"I know perfectly well what I am saying."
"Prove me an impostor?"
"Yes."
"But how can you, when I am exactly what I claim to be."
"Dr. Mackey, where were you located before the war broke out?"
"You heard my story, Jack. There is no use to repeat it."
"You came from Philadelphia."
"Ha! who told you that?"
"You were connected with a medical company there which was put out ofbusiness by the post office authorities because of using the mailsfraudulently."
At this assertion Dr. Mackey fell back as if shot.
"Jack, I demand to know who has told you this?"
"You are a bachelor, and were never married to my mother or to any otherlady."
"I demand to know who told you this--this--string of falsehoods!" criedthe doctor, catching our hero by the arm.
"A part of the story came from Mrs. Ruthven's nephew."
"What, St. John Ruthven? I hardly know the fellow."
"No, another nephew, Dr. Harry Powell, who is now attached to the Yankeearmy. He hails from Philadelphia."
"That viper!" ejaculated the medical man, then tried to check himself."I--er--that is, I know Powell distantly. But he is much mistaken."
"I don't think so--and neither does Mrs. Ruthven nor Marion."
"So you have been harboring a Yankee in this place, eh? A prettybusiness to be in surely," sneered the surgeon.
"We could not help ourselves. But I have another witness against you."
"Another?"
"Yes, a Confederate soldier who knows you well. He can testify that younever had either sweetheart or wife."
"Who is the man?"
"For the present I must decline to disclose his identity."
"You are trying to fool me!" stormed Dr. Mackey.
"No, I am telling you only the truth. Now I wish you to answer me a fewquestions. Why are you so anxious to claim me as your son?"
"Because you are my son. Good or bad, I cannot go back upon my own fleshand blood, as you are trying to do."
"I will never believe I am your son!" cried Jack impetuously. "Do youknow what I think? I think you are trying to get hold of me so that youcan obtain some money belonging to me."
"You--you little rascal!" cried Dr. Mackey. "How dare you talk to me inthis fashion?"
"Because I believe you are a fraud, that's why," answered our herodefiantly.
A commingled look of rage and disappointment came into the medical man'sface, which suddenly gave place to a look of cunning.
"I will make you smart for this," he stormed, and caught Jack firmly byboth arms. "Garder! Mason! Come here!" he called loudly.
"What is wanted?" asked one of the Confederate soldiers, as both camerushing from the stable.
"Conduct this young man to our camp, and see that he does not escapefrom you."
"You shan't take me from home!" ejaculated Jack. "Let me go!"
He struggled to release himself, but the two soldiers were powerfulfellows, and soon made him their prisoner.
"You are making a mistake," puffed Jack. "Dr. Mackey is a first-classfraud."
"Dr. Mackey is all right," put in Gendron, the guerrilla.
"He must be held," said the surgeon. "I will be responsible for thisarrest."
"At least let me see Mrs. Ruthven before I go."
"No, take him away at once," cried the surgeon quickly. "Then you canreturn for Gendron."
"Where shall we take him, doctor?" asked one of the privates.
"To the old red house up the river. You know the place?"
"Yes, sir."
No more was said, and a minute later Jack found himself being conductedacross the plantation by a back way. He wanted to cry out, but one ofthe soldiers leveled his gun
and commanded him to keep silent.
As soon as the party of three was gone Dr. Mackey entered into earnestconversation with Gendron, at the same time giving attention to theguerrilla's wound.
"Very well, Pete," he said, at the conclusion. "Stick by me and I'llstick by you."
"It's a whack," replied the wounded man.
"If anybody from the house comes here, tell them that Jack went off toget some Confederate ambulance corps to take you away."
"I will."
A few words in addition passed between the pair, and then Dr. Mackeyleft the stable.
He was anxious to have another talk with Mrs. Ruthven, but concludedthat he must postpone the interview until later.
"I reckon I have done enough for one night," he said to himself grimly."With that boy in my power, perhaps she and the others will sing adifferent tune. Anyway, I'll not let the lad out of my grasp until hepromises to do exactly as I desire."
Young Captain Jack; Or, The Son of a Soldier Page 24