The Sherwood Ring

by Elizabeth Marie Pope

  "Oh, merciful heaven!" Dick's voice was saying ruefully. "It is a cipher, sure enough."

  "What's the difference?" demanded Colonel Van Spurter. "I suppose this man Twill can be forced to tell you the key."

  "If Peaceable Sherwood's men could be forced to tell anything, Sputters, they wouldn't be in his gang at all. I'm afraid we'll have to struggle on by ourselves. It can't be a very difficult cipher — that's one good thing. Old Jasper's too simple-minded to understand a complicated one."

  "It looks complicated enough to me," I said, finishing the letter and beginning to read through it again. "The words as they stand now don't seem to make any real sense — and why has he written so many of them with capital letters? Look, Dick! There's 'meet,' 'us,' 'at,' and — wait a moment! Dick! Doesn't that sound as if it might be — "

  "Good Lord, so it does! Go on, Eleanor — all the words with the capital letters. Never mind the rest. They'll be put in simply to fill up space and create confusion."

  " 'Meet — us — ,"' I read, " 'at — Bald — Rock — for — ' "

  " 'Raid — on — supply — train,' " finished Colonel Van Spurter, triumphantly. "What supply train would that be, Dick?"

  "There's only one on the road just now, moving up the Central Valley with gunpowder for West Point," said Dick, turning the cipher letter over restlessly in his hand and looking down at it again. "But I thought —" he added rather slowly, "I thought that was too much for even Peaceable to tackle. Charles told me they were sending a whole armed guard down to meet it."

  "All the better — he'll have to come with every man he can lay his hands on, and we'll haul in the whole gang at one swoop. I've got about fifty rangers of my own with me that I can add to yours — and with eighty in all, it ought to be easy."

  "Yes," said Dick, thoughtfully. "Almost too easy."

  "And by the way, Dick," Colonel Van Spurter swept on without heeding him, "I think I'd better be the one to command the expedition. After all, I'm bringing more men to it than you are; and even your men were originally in my company to begin with."

  "Certainly you may command the expedition, Sputters — if we go."

  "What do you mean, if we go?"

  "Just what I say. I can't explain very well, but... I simply don't like the looks of this message, Sputters. It's all wrong, somehow. Can't you see for yourself? It's not like Peaceable. As I said a moment ago, it's — it's too easy."

  "You mean it might be some sort of trap? But didn't your friend Lieutenant Featherstone say he thought it was a perfectly real message?"

  "Yes, he said that."

  "Then what in tunket are you worrying about? Suppose it is easy! Peaceable Sherwood would have to make it easy anyway, wouldn't he, if this Jasper Twill is as simple-minded as you say he is?"

  "Simple-minded, yes — but not this simple-minded."

  "Now you see here, Dick!" Colonel Van Spurter stepped back from the table with the air of a man putting an end to all further discussion. "I can't waste any more of my good time sitting around here fretting over what's simple-minded and what isn't. Are you coming, or aren't you? If you're frightened, say so, and I'll take all the men and go by myself."

  "You can unfortunately do what you like with your own men, Colonel Van Spurter. But I want it clearly understood here and now that not one of mine is going to stir on any such expedition."

  "Permit me to remind you, Colonel Grahame, that I am your superior officer — or will be the moment General Washington sets foot in this house."

  "But until that moment comes, sir, you are not my superior officer, and have no right whatever to give orders either to me or to any troops General Washington may have put in my charge."

  Colonel Van Spurter may have been a fool, but at least he was not the sort of fool who does not know when he is defeated. Snatching up his hat and cloak, he strode quivering with rage across the room to the door, and turned to pause dramatically on the threshold.

  "Two hours ago, you'd have been lucky to escape from this business without losing your command, Dick," he said, between his teeth. "Now, you'll be lucky if you escape from it without getting shot for your cowardice."

  "Shut the door as you go out," said Dick wearily.

  The door slammed, and Colonel Van Spurter's voice was raised in the hall outside, issuing orders that gradually died away in a trampling of feet and clatter of horses' hoofs. Then from the distant camp in the South Meadow there stole up on the drowsy afternoon air a sudden murmur of activity, so faint that it could hardly have been heard by any ears less accustomed to it than mine. Colonel Van Spurter's fifty men had mounted and were riding out by the lower meadow-gate.

  Dick paid no attention whatever. He was sitting at the table with his head in his hands, studying the cipher letter again. I watched him in silence for a moment, and then rose quietly to go away and leave him to himself. As I paused on my way to the kitchen to clear away the litter which Colonel Van Spurter had left in the fruit dish, he looked up at me and said suddenly, "Do you think I was right, Eleanor?"

  "Of course you were right!" I retorted scornfully. "And only a fool who didn't know Peaceable Sherwood could have supposed you weren't right for an instant."

  "I'm not so certain, Eleanor. Perhaps I've been fighting with Peaceable for so long now that I'm beginning to jump at my own shadow. After all, it may be Sputters who's right — we all agreed it had to be a very simple cipher, and — "

  I put down the fruit dish on the sideboard once more. My hands were suddenly beginning to shake and I was afraid I might drop it. "Say that again!" I interrupted him sharply.

  "What? You mean about its having to be a very simple — "

  "But that's just it!" I cried. "Oh, Dick, can't you see that's exactly the reason? Look! You're Peaceable Sherwood. You have to send an important message in cipher to a loyal but not very intelligent member of your gang. You can't make it too hard, or he won't understand it. At the same time, you're afraid of making it too easy because there's just a chance that it might fall into the wrong hands. So what do you do?" I went to him and caught him by the shoulder, fairly shaking it in my eagerness and excitement. "You put in a blazing great false message along with the real one, on purpose to hit the wrong reader crack in the eye, and send him dashing madly off in the wrong direction without looking any further. Dick, I don't want to go around blowing my own horn, as Colonel Van Spurter would probably say, but I think we've got it at last!'

  "By heaven, Eleanor, I believe you're right!" Dick put up his own hand and laid it over mine for an instant. "Now let go of my shoulder before you tear it to pieces, and come here and let's see what we can make of all this. It must be something very simple, as I seem to keep repeating over and over again. I presume the real message is hidden somewhere in the other words: the ones we were meant to regard merely as space-fillers."

  "And you have to count every third word or so in order to read it?"

  "Not the words, I'm afraid — there aren't enough of them that would make sense if you tried to fit them into the kind of message this must be. 'Meet' and 'evening' might do, and perhaps 'invitation' or 'violence' at a pinch; but what about 'elegant rich music' and 'utmost respectability' and all the rest of them? No, I think that the real message must be made up somehow out of the letters that form the words themselves. Wait a moment while I get a sheet of paper and some ink . . . Now, taking first things first, I will begin by writing down the first letter of every word if you will read them off for me."

  "B," I read obediently. "M — E — E — M — U — E — R — M — A — I — L — L — B — A. That doesn't sound very promising, does it?"

  "It does not. Suppose we proceed to the second letter of every word."

  "E — E — V — V — A — S — L — "

  "Never mind the second letters. Let's try the third."

  We tried the thirds and the fourths, and the fifths, and even the sixths, before we were convinced that success did not lie in that direction.

  "Very
well, then," said Dick, in a determinedly cheerful voice. "We'll have to try combinations — the first letter of first word, the second letter of the second, and so on. That system seems a little stiff for one of old Jasper's intelligence, but I suppose it might do. After all, Peaceable can probably judge old Jasper's intelligence better than we can."

  We worked out every possible combination of letters until our fingers were cramped and our brains dizzy with writing them down. The clock in the hall was solemnly chiming four when we finally lifted our heads to look at each other in despair.

  "We're all wrong," I said hopelessly. "It must be something about the words themselves."

  "It can't be the words, Eleanor. The longer I think about it, the more I feel convinced that we're on the right track — we've just made a mistake somewhere, perhaps a very simple one, if we only had the wits to see it. Try once again before we go on to anything else."

  There followed a long silence, while we clawed through the scattered papers and sat poring over our blotted lists with our chins on our hands.

  "Eleanor!"

  "What is it, Dick?"

  "Look at this a moment. It's the list we made out of the first letter in every word: B — M — E — E — M — U — E — R — M — A — I — L — L — B — A. Where did that M come from?"

  "It was the first letter of 'meet.' "

  "And that U?"

  "The first letter of 'us.' "

  "And the A there, the one after the M?"

  " 'At.' "

  "Then that's where we made our mistake. You're supposed to leave out the words with the capital letters — the ones that make up the false message. They're not part of the cipher at all. Do you see what that man has done? The capital letters would instantly draw an enemy's attention to the false message. At the same time, they would serve to jumble and confuse the real message if he were clever or suspicious enough to break through to it as we did. And at the same time, they would also act as signposts to warn old Jasper not to pay any attention to them! There's the true Peaceable touch for you! Scratch them out and look what you have: B — E — E — M — E — R — M — I — L — L. And that, my dear Eleanor, seems to me very astonishingly like the two words, 'Beemer Mill.' "

  "Beemer Mill?"

  "It's that old gristmill on the river road, about six miles from here, the one that was struck by lightning and burned down ten years ago. You must have seen it, you have to pass it every time you cross the river and come up from — Oh, Lord!"

  "What is it, Dick? What's the matter?"

  "Eleanor, take that sheet of paper and get down the rest of this as fast as you can. Quick! Never mind BEEMER MILL — we know that already — now then, A — T — F — I — V — "

  "AT FIVE," I wrote, reading the words aloud as I put them down, stumbling a little in my haste. "CAPTURE WASHINGTON. Capture Washington! Oh, Dick! Was that what you were afraid of?"

  "That," said Dick grimly, "is precisely what I was afraid of. Sputters or one of his men must have talked to somebody in a tavern on their way over here, and the word blew back to Peaceable as usual. I suppose he thinks that if he can present a real live commander-in-chief to those boobies at British headquarters, they'll have to give up and take over his system. And what would become of us anyway, with Washington gone?"

  "But, Dick!" I was still a little dazed with the suddenness of it all. "Surely they wouldn't dare! They can't just come out of the woods and kidnap the General as if — "

  "Why can't they? Of course you think Peaceable wouldn't dare! That's what he's counting on. And the Beemer Mill is the very place to do it, too. The road bends around there under the mountain just before you get to the ford at the millstream. They'll hide in the ruins of the mill until the General starts crossing the ford, and then make a rush and trap them there in that hollow under the mountain. Nothing simpler. Peaceable will come with every man he has, and the General's got nobody with him but a couple of aides and about ten guards — Sputters told me so himself. What time did that fool say they were due to arrive here?"

  "He didn't say exactly — just 'tonight.' "

  "Well, if they're coming 'tonight,' then I don't see how they can be passing the Beemer Mill much before six at the earliest. Peaceable's men are supposed to be there at five. It's just after four now — if we hurry the horses a little, we ought to get there in time. Who's on duty in the hall there? You! Tarrington!"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Order all the men to mount: we're leaving at once."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Pass the word to the stable for my horse."

  "Yes, sir."

  "And tell Lieutenant Featherstone he can't go fishing till tomorrow."

  "This is the sort of thing that always happens to me," said Lieutenant Featherstone, appearing around the corner of the house before Tarrington could even answer, riding his own horse and leading Dick's by the bridle. "I'm so hardened to it by this time that I got into my uniform and saddled up while I was waiting, just on the chance. Dear, dear, what a fine leave I am having, to be sure! What a holiday!"

  "You can go fishing tomorrow," said Dick, swinging himself up into his saddle.

  "But that's what you always say," complained Lieutenant Featherstone dolefully. "What will you bet I never even bait a hook before I go back to West Point? Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you at all. I haven't had any dinner yet, either."

  Dick merely rose in his stirrups and shaded his eyes to look down the drive towards the South Meadow. "Tarrington! Can't you get those men along any faster?" he shouted.

  "It was all my fault for forgetting the dinner," I said remorsefully. "Do let me cut you some bread and cheese to go with you. Dick, you haven't had a bite since morning. Please? It won't take a minute."

  "A fine sight we'd look flashing after Peaceable Sherwood with a drawn sword in one hand and a slice of bread and cheese in the other! Just put some broth on the hob for us before you go to bed. I don't know when we'll be back; if the luck holds, we'll probably have to spend half the night herding a flock of prisoners up to the Goshen jail."

  "You mean you'll be herding a flock of prisoners up to the Goshen jail," said Lieutenant Featherstone, firmly. "And I don't want any broth on the hob either, nasty stuff, probably made out of a cow. Is there any more of that ham left, Miss Shipley? Or the cake with the currants in it?"

  Meanwhile, the news of the excitement had apparently spread through the farm like wildfire. I could see distant figures scurrying about the South Meadow like ants when their hill has been stepped on; the two hired men were lumbering up from the barn, the groom was running down the ladder from the hayloft, and Martha had appeared as if by magic from the kitchen, Susan from the dairy, and Deborah from the linen closet, all talking at once and wiping their hands on their aprons. Even the stable dog, losing his head, came dashing out of the yard and flew around in circles, barking at the top of his voice.

  I went down the steps of the porch and put my hand on the neck of Dick's horse for a moment.

  "Is it likely to be very dangerous, Dick?" I asked as quietly as I could.

  "Well, I don't suppose Peaceable is just going to walk up and say, 'Here I am, boys, and which is the best room in the Goshen jail?' " Dick retorted, cheerfully. "Dear me, how unheroic I sound. I ought to be saying, 'We will conquer or die on the field!' as I give you a stern but tender look and bend down from my saddle to kiss you farewell."

  "You're not going to die, and anyway I'm so little that if you try to stoop down from your saddle to me you'll probably overbalance and fall right on your face," I pointed out, doing my best to laugh back at him. "Never mind. You can turn for a moment and flourish your drawn sword as you ride out the gate, and I'll stand here on the porch steps and flutter my handkerchief after you in the most approved manner. Goodbye! Good luck! Don't slip on any more rocks! Lieutenant Featherstone, take good care of him!"

  The horses wheeled and were off down the lane in a spurt of pebbles and a sudden clatter of hoofs. I put
one hand on the nearest pillar to steady myself and stood there looking after them. But the lane and the two riders and the mounted men waiting for them by the gate all seemed to be swaying dizzily together, and I never did see whether Dick actually flourished the drawn sword or not. Then Martha, who was engaged to Sergeant Tarrington, flung her apron over her head and burst dramatically into tears.

  "Oh, Miss Eleanor! Miss Eleanor! Miss Eleanor!" she wailed. "Whatever shall I do? He's gone and left me, and I just know in my heart that he's never going to come back again!"

  I felt as if an enormous hand had suddenly closed about my own heart and was squeezing it dry.

  "You stop that nonsense at once!" I said to her fiercely. "Do you want to have us all standing around screeching and caterwauling like idiots? Take that ridiculous apron off your head this minute, and do something! Go make a pie for him if you can't think of anything else. Pumpkin's what he likes, isn't it? At least, you're always slipping little pieces of it to him out at the back door."

  "Why, Miss Eleanor, I never!" said Martha, lowering her apron and staring indignantly at me.

  "That's more like the spirit. Now! Susan, make all the beds up fresh and see that there's a good fire in the parlor and the hall. The nights are getting cold and the men will be chilled to the bone if they're late. Debbie, leave your darning till tomorrow and go scrape some more lint for bandages — we don't know how many we may need. Jonathan, tell my father when he gets in from town that General Washington's coming, and ask him please to see if there's any of the good sherry still left. Amos, I want three chickens for the pot, and another side of bacon out of the smokehouse. Martha, fetch in some more grapes as soon as you've finished making your pie, and don't sob over the filling like that — do you want it to be all salty with your tears when Sergeant Tarrington eats it? He thinks very highly of your cooking, you know. Did I ever tell you what he once said to me about it? Well, he said .. ."