“I see,” he said. “Eddie, of course. And Theodore, naturally. There weren’t any more that you can remember?”
“She seemed to consider the two quite adequate,” Tish observed icily.
He got up then and stared out over the countryside.
“Adequate,” he repeated, as though to himself. “Adequate is the word. Completely and entirely adequate. I’ve been trying to think of that word for the past six weeks.”
He did not explain further, but demanded at least to talk to the girl; and as there was nothing else to be done, I went to waken her. To my horror, she was not there, and as the windows were open it did not require much intelligence to see that she had escaped by the shed roof.
Well, I must say that the Bellamy man went crazy when I told him. He insisted on searching the house, and when at last he departed it was to say that if we had a hand in her disappearance we would go to the penitentiary for life.
“Either you’ve got her hidden he said furiously, “or she’s down the road somewhere looking pitiful, so some sap will pick her up and take her into town. But I warn you, I’m suspicious. I’m suspicious as hell. And if God ever forgives me for taking this job—”
He jammed his hat onto his head and departed in a shocking temper.
It was after he had gone that Tish told Aggie and me that Lelia was undoubtedly safe and sound in the cabin, with Charlie Sands’ shotgun to protect her, and that we must enable her to get in touch with Eddie as soon as possible. Before we were able to do so it became entirely impossible. It seemed to us that Mr. Bellamy had barely departed when both the house and the farm were entirely covered with policemen, from state troopers on motorcycles to the man Aggie found when she went to look for eggs, lying in the hayloft of the barn and watching the house with a pair of field glasses.
Not only that, but the same afternoon we had a most unpleasant visit from the sheriff.
“What I want to say is this,” he remarked: “This has always been a law-abiding county, until lately. Now what have we got? Clothes in a field, but no body; two sets of teeth, a missing shutter, and a lost girl. For two cents I’d drag that well of yours.”
“I wish you would,” said Tish coldly. “One of Jeremiah’s cats has been gone for a week.”
He gave her an ugly look.
“And so, I understand, is a shotgun which was formerly your property,” he said grimly.
Well, I must say I never saw so much excitement about a missing girl in my life. As Tish observed, probably her parents had been caught in the crash and it was necessary for her to make a wealthy marriage. Nevertheless, we were the chief sufferers. There we were, with about as much privacy as canary birds, so that more than once I found Hannah again in tears on the back porch; and with no way whatever to get to Lelia and the cabin. And this continued for five days. Indeed, had it not been for Tish’s resourcefulness, we would probably be there yet. But, as usual, she finally brought the keenness of her fertile mind to our predicament.
“I have noticed,” she said, “that these observers pay no attention to us when we emerge with the egg baskets in full daylight, although at night every door and window is watched. Our escape must, therefore, be through the henhouse.”
It is thus that I explain for the first time the mystery which so puzzled both press and state and county police at the time.
The matter, indeed, proved extremely simple. One at a time and at sufficient intervals each of us carried an egg basket to the henhouse and remained there; and at dusk Tish with a chisel carefully pried off one or two of the bands at the rear.
As the henhouse backed on thick shrubbery which, in turn, led to the woods, at dusk that night we found ourselves free at last. Not only that, but we had a dozen fresh eggs to carry to the cabin, which were greatly appreciated later.
The climb through the timber was not easy. It was a dark and moonless night, and Aggie insisted that there were bears all around us. Tish finally was driven to remonstrate with her.
“For heaven’s sake, show some sense, Aggie,” she said. “A bear runs at the mere sight of any human being.”
“Which way does he run?” Aggie quavered.
But this colloquy came to an end by our arrival at the small clearing around the cabin, and the discovery that there was a light in it. Even Aggie was cheered. But the next moment, to our horror and amazement, there was the sound of a shot from within it, followed in a second by another.
How can I express our feelings at that moment? Aggie was whimpering beside me, and even Tish was startled. Then, telling us to remain where we were, she moved cautiously forward to where she could peer into one of the windows. When she came back, she was very grave.
“It is Lelia,” she said. “She is in there alone, and I think she has gone mad.”
We all then crept to the window, and I shall never forget the picture we saw. One candle had been lighted, the door to the lean-to kitchen was closed and had a chair against it, and in the center of the room stood the poor child, clad just as she had left us, and hastily reloading Charlie Sands’ shotgun. Her eyes looked quite frenzied, and even as we gazed she lifted the gun and prepared to fire again.
Never in my life have we faced such a situation. Apparently loneliness and despair had affected her mind, and we at once withdrew to survey the situation.
“The only thing to do,” Tish said, “is to surround her and capture her before she can shoot again. It is possible that she is only temporarily deranged, and that under proper care she will recover.”
She then outlined her plan. Aggie was to enter the dark kitchen and lock the door, thus preventing Lelia’s escape in that direction; I was to signal from outside a window when she turned her back to the door, and Tish—our valiant Tish—was then to enter and seize the gun, when we would all close in.
I must say that Aggie was most unwilling, but at last we saw her disappear around the corner of the cabin, and I went to my window. At that moment I heard strange noises from beyond the door to the kitchen—a sort of scratching, followed by the impact of a heavy body against it—and before we could shout, Lelia had raised the gun and fired directly at it!
What happened then was indescribable. There was a terrific roar from the kitchen and a thin wail from Aggie. And then silence!
I can only remember Tish dashing open the door, and Lelia staring at us with blank eyes.
“There’s a bear in the kitchen,” she said. “I haven’t had anything to eat for three days.”
Then she dropped the gun and slid to the floor in a faint.
Never, so long as I live, will I forget that moment, with Lelia apparently unconscious and Aggie shut in with that wild and savage brute. Nor did repeated calls to her bring more than furious lunges by the animal at the door. I recall that Tish hurried around to the outer door of the lean-to, but, obedient to instructions, Aggie had locked it.
There was but one thing to do, and that was to let the animal out through the cabin. This we finally did, putting Lelia in an upper bunk and taking refuge there ourselves after opening the door an inch or two. It was hideous to see the creature poke its nose into that aperture and gradually emerge into the room; but, at that moment I heard the happiest sound of my life: Aggie suddenly sneezed, and the animal bolted out the open door and was gone.
We found Aggie on the floor behind the kitchen stove, and apparently unharmed. But we could not induce her to come out.
“Don’t be a fool, Aggie,” Tish said sharply. “Get out of there. The creature’s gone.”
“Gode?” said our poor Aggie in a weak voice. “Thed what is sittig od by feet?”
Well, we brought the candle then and looked, and there was a bear cub, and a fairly good-sized one at that. It seemed quite friendly, and as though it would have wagged its tail if had had one; but at last we got it out and were able to get Aggie to a bunk.
I am glad to say that after a good supper of fresh eggs and bacon, with some waffles which I stirred up, Lelia was quite herself again.
It appeared that she had reached the cabin safely and that for two days all had gone well. Then on the third, while she was sleeping, the bear and the cub had got into the kitchen and in some manner the door had latched behind them.
However, all is well that ends well, and, save that Aggie claimed that a field mouse had sat on her chest for hours and washed its face, we put in a comfortable night.
I can only add that this was the “inhuman captivity” to which the press later referred!
VI
LELIA WAS IN EXCELLENT spirits the next morning, and over the breakfast table proposed a plan. This was that she walk to a town of which she knew across the mountain and there telephone to Eddie.
Tish wished to accompany her, but she insisted on going alone, and at last she departed, wearing a bandanna of Aggie’s to hide her red hair, and with—as Tish observed—the light of hope in her young face. She had no more than gone when we heard a scrambling among some rocks and turned to see the Bellamy man climbing up the trail.
It was a real shock, but I felt almost sorry for him. He looked as though he had not slept for a week, and it was not until he had searched the cabin and we had told him about the bear that he was convinced of our innocence and apologized.
“All right,” he said dejectedly. “She wins. If there was a bear here, and she saw it, she’d have it doing tricks for her and eating out of her hand.” And he added in a gloomy voice: “Some of these days I’ll end by believing that story of hers myself. I feel it coming on. I’m weakening. Either that or she’s smarter than I am. You can take your choice.”
He then took up his hat and prepared to go. At the top of the path, however, he stopped.
“Just in case you happen to see her,” he said, “you can tell her for me that I’m through, and that I’m going back to my regular job. It’s easy. It’s simple. I can understand professionals. Either you get them or they get you. But these amateurs—”
Here he checked himself, and soon after that he was out of sight, leaving us rather puzzled, but relieved. As Tish said at the time, under other conditions one could have liked him very much. He had a pleasant smile and was quite good-looking. But with things as they were—
Nothing else occurred that day, although Aggie, on her way to the spring, slipped and sat down on a porcupine and was most uncomfortable for some time. Lelia returned safely by evening, looking tired but quite contented, and ate a ravenous supper. She explained that she had got Eddie on the telephone and arranged with him to secure some clothing for her and a moderate sum of money and to hire a plane and drop them, packed in a small bag, at a point in the hills to be indicated by a white sheet laid out on the ground. We were then to gather up bag and sheet, and there would be nothing to indicate the spot.
Once properly dressed and with adequate funds, she was to meet Eddie and then determine on their future course.
This is the co-called villainous plot, laid to Letitia Carberry’s door and called by the ugly name of extortion. And it is worthy of note that, while our arrest for it covered the front pages of the papers, the refutation was hidden among the advertising matter.
But to go back. Lelia was quite firm about the sheet, but there was nothing of the sort at the camp, and as the plane was to arrive the following day, it fell to my lot to go down to the farm that night and secure one.
It was indeed a painful and arduous journey, especially in view of the bear. Also, Hannah had locked the house carefully, and in the end I was compelled to break a window in order to enter. This wakened her, and as I had no wish to be recognized I was obliged to wrap myself in the sheet and make my escape as best I could.
This, I may say here, is the origin of the ghost story which still persists in the neighborhood, and I am happy to lay at rest.
However, I found everything ready on my return, and long before daylight we were on our way. Necessarily our progress was slow, owing to the dark and to no path whatever, but by daylight we had covered several miles and were quite ready for our breakfast of broiled ham, toast, and coffee.
We rested for a brief time and then started again, and it was not until noon that Tish paused. We were on the top of a mountain where a lumbering company had cut some timber, and a chute led far down the mountainside and out of sight, and Tish surveyed it carefully.
“This, I think,” she observed, “answers all requirements. It is open to the sky, and we can remain sheltered among the trees. We can eat a light lunch, and by that time the plane should be here.”
This we did, and after spreading the sheet we rested our weary bodies. I can still remember the sun on Lelia’s bright head, and Tish’s statement that we were on a crusade and that if any trouble developed we could take to the chute and slide to safety. Then I must have slept, for when I wakened it was almost dusk, and Aggie was shaking me by the shoulder and sneezing wildly.
“It’s coming, Lizzie,” she said. “I cad hear it.”
Well, we at once retired to our places in the woods, and soon the plane was overhead. It seemed suspicious at first, for it circled several times. Then it came lower, and soon we saw the bag tossed overboard. To our horror, however, it missed the sheet entirely and fell among the trees instead.
It never struck the ground at all.
It was some time before we discovered it. For one thing, Lelia, running toward us, had fallen and sprained her ankle, and we were obliged to look after her first. But at last we saw it, hanging to a branch far up in a tree and utterly beyond our reach.
Lelia sat on the ground and stared at it furiously.
“The fools!” she said. “The blithering idiots! They did it on purpose.”
She refused to explain further, and as evening was now falling rapidly our problem had become acute.
With her injured ankle, Lelia could not climb the tree, and at last Tish suggested that Aggie, being the lightest among us, should go up and bring down the bag. I shall never forget poor Aggie’s face.
“Clibe that tree?” she asked. “What do you thik I ab? A skyrocket?”
In the end, however, she agreed—although none too willingly—and at last we succeeded in hoisting her to a lower limb. For some time we could hear her moving upward, until she was far above us; and then suddenly we heard the stealthy sounds of movement all about us, and realized that we were surrounded!
How shall I relate what followed? The shocking sight of Mr. Bellamy, red-faced and raging, catching our unfortunate Lelia and deliberately turning her over and—I hesitate to relate this—spanking her violently; my own fingers closing without intention on both barrels of the shotgun, and an explosion which threw me flat and knocked out a pivot tooth, followed by a yelp from a state trooper; and as I went down, a brief vision of Tish pushing at the sheriff as he tried to lay hands on her; and his sudden disappearance into the timber chute—those are the pictures which rise in my mind as I write this, and bitter indeed they are.
Somewhere above us in a tree were Aggie and the bag, but I could see neither of them; nor in that long walk and, later, ride to the county jail did either Tish or I mention them. We were handcuffed, and to this crowning indignity Tish made no protest.
“If it is a crime,” she said, “to bring young lives together, then I am indeed a criminal!”
We saw nothing more of the sheriff, although we learned later that, the chute ending in the river, he had had a most unpleasant experience. But one thing puzzled us both. This was their insistence that we had hidden the bag from the plane, and that it contained a huge sum of money. Not, indeed, until after Charlie Sands had come and gone the next day had we the slightest comprehension of what they meant. Then I looked out to see him standing beyond the bars of our cell.
“Well,” he said, “I guess you are beyond help this time.”
“I don’t even know what you are talking about,” said Tish. “If I have tried to help a pair of young lovers, that is entirely my affair. I have committed no felony.”
“Maybe not in this state,” he said coldly, “
but in some parts of this great and glorious Union shooting at a sheriff and then filling him full of splinters is not regarded with any favor.”
“He slipped,” said Tish calmly.
“He says you pushed him,” Charlie Sands retorted. “I’ve been in to see him, and he has two constables and a deputy working over him with tweezers.”
It was some time before he could induce her to tell him the story, and when she had finished he simply held on to the bars and stared at her.
“I see,” he said rather feebly. “Of course, it’s quite simple. The cruel parents and the sweet young thing to be saved. And Eddie and Theodore. And Aggie still in a tree with a bag dropped from a plane. What could be more natural? I say,” he added, “you haven’t a spot of blackberry cordial about, have you? I feel rather queer.”
He went away soon after that, and I believe that Aggie was rescued later that day by some fire department or other which carried up a long ladder. They found the bag also, and it contained fifty thousand dollars in small bills, and no clothing whatever.
It was the ransom money for Edith Lee, and Lelia had been Edith Lee all the time! Moreover, although we did not know it then, she had merely invented all the attempts to kidnap her, in order to get money so she could go into motion pictures; and Mr. Bellamy and the man with the pipe had been not her jailers, but guards to protect her.
It was late that evening that Mr. Bellamy came to the cell to see us and was admitted. He sat down as though he was very tired and for some time merely examined his hands, which appeared to be badly scratched.
“Someday,” he said at last, “some good strong man is going to take that redhead and beat Hollywood out of her. Then he’ll probably marry her and live happily ever after. But I am not the man. Theodore might have done it; I don’t know. But not Eddie. I never cared for Eddie. With a mind like hers, she should have done better with Eddie. In my opinion Eddie was a washout.”
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