Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge; Or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners

by Herbert Carter

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  POLLY GIVES HER PROMISE.

  "I'M going to ask you a great favor, Polly," said Bob, earnestly.

  "Then hit it up right smart, an' tell me," replied the girl, calmly,though Thad could see her dark, expressive face light up.

  Polly had her share of the curiosity that is the heritage of her sex.

  "You say you feel thankful that we happened along in time to drive thatcat off; and you'd be willing to do something for us in return?" Bobwent on.

  "Thet's right, Bob Quail," returned the girl of the mountains sturdily."Reckons as how it'd on'y be fair. What ye want me to do?"

  "First of all, please don't whisper it to anybody around here that Ihave come back," the boy asked in his earnest tones; "and least of allto your father. You know he used to feel right sore against all myfamily, because my father in trying to do his sworn duty by theGovernment, ran up against the moonshine boys."

  "Oh! thet's easy promised, Bob Quail," she replied, readily enough; "Ikin keep a close tongue atween my teeth, ef I happens to be on'y a gal.But I kin see thet ain't all yer gwine to ask o' me."

  "But everything else hinges on that, Polly," returned Bob; "and I'm gladyou'll forget that you saw one of the Quail family. They're not in anytoo good odor in this part of the country. Now, you're wondering, Ireckon, why I ever dared come back, after two years. Well, there werereasons that pulled me into the danger zone, Polly. One of themwas--Bertha, my little cousin."

  Polly smirked, and nodded her wise head.

  "I cud a guessed thet, Bob Quail," she remarked. "Sumbody must a bentellin' ye thet she ain't as happy as she mout be, thet's it. The oldmiser, he's cross as a bear with a sore head; an' I seen Bertha with redeyes more'n a few times. I don't blame ye 'bout wantin' to do somethin';though I reckons ye'll find it a up-hill job, w'en ye tackle thet oldfox."

  "But there's a way to get him in a hole, and I believe I've found it,"said Bob. "Only, if I'm chased out of the country before I can carry myplans through, you see, all my coming here wouldn't amount to a row ofbeans. That's one reason why I asked you to keep my secret. But there'sanother, Polly."

  "Yep, they's another," she repeated after him, with her dark eyes fixedon his face, as though she might be able to read what was passing in hismind, and in this way was prepared to hear his new disclosure.

  Thad knew what his comrade meant to say. It was a big risk, but hebelieved it could be carried through. This girl was no ordinarycreature; she had latent possibilities slumbering beneath the surface inher nature, that, as yet, had never been called upon to show themselves.Besides, the girl was grateful to them for what they had done.

  "You haven't forgotten what happened here some years ago, Polly," Bobwent on. "My father led a party of revenue men into these mountains,meaning to destroy the secret Stills. He never came back. Those who werewith him said that he had been shot down in a fierce fight with themoonshiners; and that he had died almost instantly. You haven'tforgotten that terrible time, Polly, have you?"

  "I reckons not," she muttered, stirring uneasily.

  "Well, somehow I never could get myself to believe that my father wasreally dead. I had one of the revenue men in my pay, and he used towrite me every week or so. It was through him I first heard the rumorthat the moonshiners were said to have a prisoner up at your father'sStill, who was kept constantly under guard, and made to work. They evensaid he was a revenue man; and that it was a part of the moonshiners'revenge to make him help manufacture the mountain dew, so as to pay upfor the quantities he had destroyed in his raids. You've heard more orless about this, too, haven't you, Polly?"

  "Sure I has, Bob Quail," replied the girl.

  "Polly, somehow I just can't get it out of my head that this mysteriousprisoner of the mountains might be my own father; that he was badlywounded, and not killed in that fight; that the moonshiners nursed himback to health; and ever since he's been kept under guard. Do you knowif that is so? I ask you to tell me, because it would mean a great dealto me, and to my poor mother at home in the North."

  Polly shook her head in the negative.

  "I jest can't say as to thet," she answered, soberly; "I done hears aheap 'bout some man as they has kep' a long time up thar, adoin' of thechores, an' never without a gun clost to his head; but I ain't neverseed him. I gives ye my word on thet, Bob Quail."

  "But Polly, you _could_ see him if you tried real hard, couldn't you?"the boy went on, in an anxious tone.

  She looked at him. The eager expression on poor Bob's face would havemoved a heart of stone; and Polly was surely deeply touched.

  "I reckons I cud," she answered, steadily; while in her black eyes stolea glow that gave Thad a curious feeling; for he began to believe thatthey had after all come upon an unexpected and valuable ally, right inthe household of the chief enemy.

  "Think what it means to me, Polly," Bob suggested, knowing how best toappeal to her sympathies. "Put yourself in my place, and tell me whatyou would do if it was your own father who was held a prisoner, and youhad long believed him dead? Do you blame me for coming back to thesemountains to try and learn the truth; and if it should turn out to beall I dream it may, of attempting in some way to bring about hisrelease. Would you blame me, Polly?"

  "Sure I wudn't, Bob Quail," she replied.

  "And will you help me find out?" he went on, feverishly.

  "Seein's I owe ye a heap, 'case o' what ye done fur me this day, I'mgwine to say jest what ye wants me to," the girl returned.

  With an almost inarticulate cry Bob seized her hand, and gave it asqueeze.

  "Oh! you don't know how happy you've made me by saying that, Polly!" heexclaimed. "And if it _should_ turn out to be my poor father, won't youtry and help me get him free? He'll never come back here again to botheryour people; I give you my word for that, Polly, sure I do. Will youhelp me do it?"

  "Thet's asking a hull lot, Bob Quail," she muttered, doubtfully, asthough she realized the magnitude of the task he would put upon hershoulders. "It's wantin' me to go agin my own dad. If so be thar is arevenue kep' up thar to the Still, it's _his_ doin's. An' 'less he givesthe word, thar ain't nobody dar's to let that man go free. An' now yearsk me to play agin my own people. It's a big thing ye want done, BobQuail. I dunno; I dunno!"

  But Thad could see she was wavering. He believed that if Bob onlypressed his point he must win out.

  "Listen, Polly," and Bob caught hold of her wrist as he spoke, as thoughto hold her attention better; "more than two long years this man hasbeen held there, the sport and plaything of the moonshiners, and made todo their rough work. It must have broken his spirit sadly. And surelyyour father's desire for revenge should be wholly satisfied by now.Think of my mother, mourning him as dead all this time, Polly. Justimagine her wonderful joy if he came back to her again alive and in theflesh! Oh! don't talk to me about the risks I am running in just cominghere; gladly would I put my life in danger ten times over, if I knewthere was a chance to find him, and bring him home with me. That is what_you_ would do, Polly; and perhaps some day, when sorrow and troublecome to you, I may be able to do you a good turn, even as you are goingto do for me now; because something tells me you are, Polly!"

  That settled it. Bob had gone about the matter in just the right way toreach the moonshiner's daughter's heart. No doubt she often thought ofthe black day that might come at any time, when those never sleepingGovernment agents would capture Old Phin, and he look a long sentence inthe face. Yes, it would be worth something to know that they had afriend in court when that time rolled around.

  "Yes, I'm agwine to help ye, Bob Quail," she said, slowly. "I don't jestknow yet how far I kin go; but anyways I'll promise to find out who thetprisoner up at the Still kin be. Then, mebbe I mout think it over, an'reckon as it's jest like ye sez, an' he's shore be'n punished enuff.Thet's all I'll tell ye right now."

  "Well, it's mighty fine of you to say as much as that, Polly, and I wantyou to know I appreciate it more than I can tell you," the Southern boyw
ent on, his dark handsome face radiant with renewed hope, as his heartbeat high in the belief that his loftiest dreams might after all cometrue.

  "I hope that foot won't keep you from walking?" Thad thought to remarkjust then.

  This caused Bob to remember that he had a chum near by, and he hastenedto say:

  "This is one of my best friends, Thad Brewster, Polly. We belong to thetroop of Boy Scouts encamped down below. Perhaps you have heard yourfather speak of them? He was in our camp more than an hour last night,and my chum here seemed to interest him a heap in telling all about whatscouts aim to do in the world."

  "Yep, I heerd 'bout hit," the girl replied, as she gave Thad a shortnod; "an' he shore was takin' sum stock in wat he done heerd. My dad, heallers liked boys better'n he did gals. Lost three on 'em, he did, an'every one died with his boots on! But ye needn't git skeered 'bout thishyar foot ahurtin' me none. We knows what kin' o' stuff to put on asprain, as'll take ther swellin' down right smart. See, I kin walk jestas good as I ever cud. An' I'll find out fur ye 'bout thet man up to theStill, sure I will, Bob."

  "When can I see you again, Polly?" Bob asked, anxiously. "You know timeis worth a heap to me right now. Say soon, please; sometime to-night, ifyou can; and it'll help a lot. I'll never be able to sleep a wink nowtill I know the truth."

  "Mout as well put her through on ther lightnin' express as not," shereplied. "I reckons I kin promise ye to-night. An' I knows whar yer camplays, 'case I arsked my dad. Thort I mout happen thet way, an' see whatboys looked like as was dressed in smart close. It's gwine to be a hardjob, seems like, an' mebbe I carn't git 'roun' till late, but I'll bethar, Bob Quail! Ye done ther right thing by me, an' Polly Dady don'tforgit."

  Then turning her back on the two boys, the mountain girl swung herselfalong the rough face of the hillside with a perfect confidence in herability to keep her footing that only a chamois might have exceeded.

  And Thad, looking at his chum, saw that the other's face was wreathed ina smile such as had long been a stranger there.

  "The best day's work I ever did, Thad!" exclaimed Bob, as he seized hischum's hand, and squeezed it convulsively. "Something just tells mePolly is going to be my good fairy, and bring me the greatest gift thatever could be--the knowledge that my dear father lives."