“Of course, Miss Summers,” Dr. Templeton said hastily. “If we can be of any help, please let us know. I’m sorry about this.”
“Thank you, Doctor Templeton.”
When Gail went to get her things, she encountered David coming out of one of the physician’s offices. “What’s wrong?” he said at once, noting that her face was pale.
“It’s . . . Jeb! He’s got himself in some kind of trouble. I’ve got to go see about him.”
A look of genuine concern filled the physician’s face. “I can’t leave right now, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“No, you wait here! I’ll come back and tell you about it when I know more.”
David protested, but Gail was firm, and insisted he wait to hear from her. She left the hospital at once and walked hurriedly to the apartment. She found out that the police had already been there, and her mother could only wring her hands in despair and weep. Gail said defiantly, “I’m going to find out where he is. Somebody has to know where he is.”
“You can’t go out on the streets asking that!” said her mother, her face in her hands.
“Yes, I can! I’ve got to try to find him.” With that, Gail turned and left.
Gail headed straight for the pool hall and marched inside. She had known several of the young loafers there for years and walked over to one named Dan Sullivan, who was busy playing a game. “Dan,” she said, “you’ve heard about Jeb?”
“Yeah,” Sullivan nodded nervously, “and about Devaney, too! It looks like they messed up.”
“I’ve got to find Jeb. Do you know where they are?” demanded Gail.
Defensively, Sullivan shook his head. “I used to run with Devaney, but he was too wild for me. I don’t know nothing about it, Gail.” Then as if to avoid any further questions, he turned and continued his game.
Within an hour, Gail had exhausted every possibility she could think of. But nobody she talked to either knew or wanted to say anything about Devaney or Jeb. She started home slowly, her heart despondent. When she was a block from the house, she saw her stepbrother, Bart, up ahead walking the same way. “Bart, wait!” She ran to catch up with him. He was fidgety and didn’t seem to want to talk, and there was a look of apprehension on his face as they walked side by side.
“Bart, what do you know about this robbery?”
“Me? I don’t know nothing—I wasn’t there!” he said quickly.
But there was something in his tone and mannerism that alerted Gail. She began to question him, and when he tried to walk off, she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, saying fiercely, “Bart, this isn’t a game! You realize that Jeb could go to jail for this? You know where he is, don’t you?”
“Let me go!” Bart had lost all of his toughness and looked merely frightened now. He would have walked away, but Gail caught him again and whirled him around. Her eyes were flashing and she said, “You know more than you’re saying. Now tell me!” She kept at him until finally his hands began to tremble.
“Listen, I can’t tell you. If I did, Devaney—there’s no telling what he’d do to me.”
“You’re going to tell me or I’ll go to the police and tell them you were in on it.”
“You wouldn’t do that!”
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll do whatever I have to do to help Jeb get out of this mess. Now, do you know where they are?”
Bart was thoroughly afraid of Devaney. He knew the gang leader had no scruples and could be very dangerous. Everyone knew that Devaney had used a knife twice on those who had crossed him. Fearing what could happen, Bart said. “Gail, he’d kill me if I told where he was!”
“He won’t know. Where is he?”
“You’ve got to promise me that you won’t tell a word about how you found out!” said Bart as his eyes darted up and down the street, afraid somehow that someone was watching them.
“All right, I promise. Now, out with it!” insisted Gail.
“I ain’t for sure, but there’s a hideout that Tug uses sometimes. It’s a room up over the old furniture factory. The factory’s closed down now and it’s just an empty building. But there’s a way to get in through the back. We used to go there and have our meetings. I don’t think anybody knows about it except the gang. But, you can’t—”
As Gail loosed his arm and turned and ran down the street, he cried, “Hey! Remember—you promised not to say a word about me!” He bit his lip as Gail disappeared around the corner. He pulled his shoulders together and said, “Ain’t none of my affair. I ain’t got nothing to do with it.”
****
Aaron stepped down from the cab, paid his fare, and stood staring at Baxter Hospital for a moment. Then he climbed the stairs and entered the hospital. He went at once to the head nurse, Agnes Smith, who was busy trying to give instructions to one of her nurses. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Miss Summers, Miss Smith,” said Aaron when she had finished.
“You wait here and I’ll get her. She’s down the hall.”
Aaron nodded and as the nurse disappeared, he took a note out of his pocket and stared at it. “I must see you at once, Aaron.” It was simply signed, “Gail.” A special messenger had brought it, and he had come to town hurriedly. He was mystified, for it was not like Gail to do such a thing. He was still wondering about it as she appeared around the corner down the hall. He looked at her and saw that her face was pale and her lips were pulled together in a thin line. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.
“Come down here where we can talk.” She led him into a side room where supplies were kept, and at once turned and said, “It’s Jeb—he’s in terrible trouble. We’ve got to help him.”
Aaron listened, his eyes narrowing as Gail quickly explained in detail what Lieutenant Darvin had told her about Jeb. As soon as she finished, he said, “Where is he? Do you know?”
“Yes. I can’t tell you how I know. Aaron, we’ve got to get him away.”
“But he needs to turn himself in,” said Aaron.
“Aaron, I want you to help, but you have to promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“If we get him away from there, I . . . I don’t want him to think we’re like policemen. I don’t want to force him to do anything. It has to be his choice whether he gives himself up. You have to promise me that.”
Aaron paused and saw the lines of strain on her face. He thought hard for a moment, shrugged, then said, “It’d be better if he did, but, okay—I promise. Now, where is he? I think it would be better if I went alone.”
“No, I’m going with you.” She listened as Aaron argued against it, but said defiantly, “You can’t go unless I tell you where it is, and I’m not telling unless I go with you.”
Seeing the stubborn set of her face, Aaron said abruptly, “All right! I’ve got to have a few minutes, though—I have an errand to run. I’ll meet you outside in an hour.” He turned, and as soon as he left, he walked quickly to a seedy section of town that contained a series of pawn shops. He entered one, and when the owner came to ask what he needed, Aaron looked at the glass case in front and said, “I’ll take that .44. Do you have any shells for it?”
The owner gave him a quick look and said, “I’ll have to have your name and some identification, sir.”
“That’s fine,” Aaron said briefly. “Let’s see the gun.”
Ten minutes later, he was out of the pawn shop, walking back toward the hospital. Inside his coat pocket was tucked the gun. His mind was working rapidly, and by the time Gail came out of the hospital, he said at once, “There may be trouble, Gail. I’d rather you didn’t go—you might get hurt.”
Gail looked up at him and her lips were firm. “I’m going and that’s all there is to it. Do you promise you won’t make Jeb turn himself in?”
When he nodded, she said, “Let’s go then.”
****
Tug Devaney was sound asleep and did not even hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Jeb, however, was awake. He had not slept
much since the two had fled and the gang had scattered. He, himself, had not been actively involved. Tug had not even told him where they were going, but he had begged so hard that Tug had finally said, “Okay, you can tag along, but that’s all.” When they had made their way to the dark street, they had come to a corner and Tug had simply said, “You stay here. If you see any cops, come running down the street yelling.”
That had been all Jeb had known until suddenly Tug and the three others had come rushing down the street, feet pounding. They had passed Jeb without speaking, and when he saw the pursuer, he turned and fled with them. They had taken a circuitous route until they finally ended up at this hideout, but the other three had left almost at once.
As the hours ticked by, Jeb had asked himself a thousand times why he’d gone and done such a foolish thing. But he had no answer, and sat in the darkness shaking his head, afraid at what could happen now. As he heard the footsteps approaching stealthily, he thought, It’s the police—I’m going to jail! He got up and turned to face the door. He thought of waking Tug, but he knew that Tug kept a gun and was afraid that he would use it. All he wanted was to get out of here, even if it meant getting arrested. Tug had refused to let him go, saying, “No, you’d spill the beans, boy. You stay with me till this blows over.”
The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened. Jeb could make out two figures standing there, and then—he saw that one of them was Gail. When he spoke her name, Tug instantly came awake. Seeing the two strange figures in the door, he made a wild grab for his gun that lay on the table next to him.
“Hold it right there or you’re dead!” Aaron had entered the room and laid the muzzle of the pistol on Devaney, his finger tightening on the trigger, for the man’s hand was almost touching the revolver on the table.
“I ain’t shooting!” Devaney cried out sharply, throwing his hands up. “Who are you, anyway?” Then he saw Gail and let loose a relieved sigh. “Oh, it’s you, Gail! How’d you find us?”
Gail did not even answer. She looked at Jeb and said, “Come on, Jeb, we’re leaving.” At once, Jeb turned to her, and as soon as he reached her, tears formed in his eyes. “I . . . I’m sorry, sis.”
Aaron did not turn, but kept his gun leveled at Devaney. He walked over to the table, picked up the pistol, and slowly slipped it into his pocket. “Don’t follow us,” he warned. “Or it will be unpleasant for you.” He backed out of the room, thinking the man might have another gun. When Aaron stepped outside and shut the door, he said, “Let’s get out of here.”
They left the building at once and turned and walked quickly down the dark street. As soon as they were two blocks away, Aaron said, “Here—we’ve got to get you out of sight, Jeb.” He turned to the boy and said, “It would be best if you give yourself up.”
Fear swept through the boy. “No, I ain’t gonna do that. Let’s just run away.”
Aaron knew it would go better for the boy if he went immediately to the police station, but he saw the fear in Jeb’s eyes and remembered his promise to Gail. “All right, we’ll go somewhere and talk about it.”
“Where can we go?” Gail said. “They’ll be looking everywhere for him.”
Aaron had already thought about this. “I know a place,” he said. “Uncle Mark has a hunting camp right in the middle of nowhere. It’s in the upper part of the state in the middle of the woods. Dad and I spent a couple of days there. It’s a good place to hide.”
“We can’t just disappear. Our people would be worried sick,” said Gail.
Aaron nodded. “Right! We’ll have to send them word. Write a note to your folks, and I’ll do the same for mine.”
“But. . . what will we say?”
“Just say we’re all right but that we have to be gone for a few days. When we get there, we can write if we need to. Be sure you write Deborah a note. And be sure you tell them not to tell a soul about the notes.”
“I . . . I wish we didn’t have to do this, Aaron!”
“So do I—but right now we’ve got to think of Jeb.” A strange look crossed his features, and he added, “I didn’t know how much I’d come to think of Jeb—not until now!”
Gail reached up and touched his cheek, whispering, “You’re so sweet, Aaron! No other man would do this!”
For a moment they stood there in the shadows, and Aaron was conscious of the pressure of her hand. He took it, held it, and smiled as he said, “I’m not all that sweet, I guess. Come on, we’ve got to hurry!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Love Is More Than a Kiss!”
“We’d better get settled in,” said Aaron as he set down the bags he was carrying. Glancing around the murky interior, he said, “I’ll try to rig up something to make a bedroom for you, Gail. Why don’t you see if you can throw some kind of supper together. Jeb, go find some wood and start a fire in that cookstove, then you can bring the rest of the stuff in.”
The cabin had only the one large room, and though it was fairly spacious, there was no privacy. Aaron went outside into a toolshed that leaned in a precarious fashion and began to rummage around. Finding some wire and an old canvas tarp that was torn in several places, he grunted with satisfaction. After scrounging around, he came up with some nails, a rusty hammer, and a pair of pliers he found in a wooden box. Picking up his findings, he went back inside the cabin. Jeb was blowing on a pile of small sticks inside the stove, and Gail was emptying sacks and cans, stacking them in boxes that had been nailed to the wall for shelves.
Measuring the cabin with his eye, Aaron moved to the end away from the stove and table. He drove a nail firmly into one of the weathered uprights, then did the same on another across the room. He looped one end of the rusty wire over the nail, bent the nail so that it held fast—then stretched the wire across the room and fastened it, pulling the wire as tightly as possible before cinching it. He clipped six-inch pieces of the wire from the roll, then shoved them through one side of the canvas about a foot apart. When he’d finished this, he held one end of the canvas up, looped the ties over the taut wire, and twisted the two ends. When the entire canvas was hanging limply from the wire, he grunted with satisfaction and turned to find Gail smiling at him.
“You’re quite resourceful.” She came to look behind the hanging, and then said, “Thank you, Aaron. This is better than anything we had in Cuba.”
“For a fact.” Picking up the tools, he carried them back outside to the toolshed. He saw that some wood had been cut and hauled, but was not split. He’d spotted a double-bitted ax in the shed, and soon he was splitting the logs. Darkness was falling fast, and when Jeb stepped outside, Aaron said, “Take some of these chunks inside, will you, Jeb?”
“You sure do know how to split wood.” Jeb was watching with admiration, and he asked, “Can I try it, Mr. Winslow?”
“Why not?” Aaron gave the boy a few pointers, then stood by as Jeb took a few swings at the wood. He was awkward at first, but Aaron said, “You’ve got a good swing. All you need is a little practice.” He watched the boy for a while, then the smell of cooking meat came to him. “That’ll be enough. Let’s wash up.”
The two entered the cabin, and Aaron saw three tin plates set out on the table, along with cups and forks. “I was just about to call you,” Gail said. “It’s nothing fancy, just bacon and eggs tonight.”
“Smells mighty good to me,” said Aaron as he sat down and Jeb settled himself across the table. Gail walked over from the cookstove and set a platter of scrambled eggs and another one of crisp bacon on the table, then poured three cups of coffee. When she seated herself, she glanced at Aaron, asking, “Shall I ask the blessing?” When he nodded shortly, she spoke a few words of thanks, then looked up and said, “I’m starved!”
“Me too!” Jeb began to eat hungrily, and twice refilled his plate.
“The way you’re shoveling that down,” Aaron grinned, “we’ll either have to start raising chickens and hogs or go to the store every day.”
“Tomorrow I’ll m
ake biscuits,” Gail promised. She was eating with enjoyment, and when they were through, she said, “I’m not usually so hungry. I ate like a starving wolf!”
“It’s the outdoors,” Aaron commented. Leaning back in his chair, he teetered dangerously, then added, “Don’t know why, but being out in the fresh air gives you an appetite. When I was growing up and Dad took Lewis and me hunting, I had to take so much grub along that he got disgusted with me.” He got up and started to take his plate.
“I’ll do that,” Gail said quickly. “You and Jeb can chop the wood, and I’ll do the cooking and dishwashing.”
“Sounds fair enough to me,” grinned Aaron. He waited until she’d washed the dishes and cleaned up, then said, “Let’s walk supper off. There’s a nice little pond about a quarter of a mile from here.”
The three of them left the cabin and strolled along under the bright light of the full moon. “Harvest moon,” Aaron commented, admiring the fullness of the silver disk. “Best time of the year for hunting, too.” He led the way down the narrow path that was worn smooth, followed by Gail and Jeb. Enormous trees rose on each side, forming thick walls, and the path made a serpentine track through the woods. Finally he stopped and stepped aside. “There it is.”
Gail stepped to the bank and took a deep breath. “It’s so beautiful!” she whispered. The pond was not large, no more than three acres or so, but it was spring fed. The moon was reflected in the waters, and a small breeze ruffled the surface so that the gleaming image quivered like quicksilver.
“There’s a path around it,” Aaron said. “Made by Indians a long time ago, I guess. Come along.”
Gail and Jeb walked along the bank, struck silent by the beauty of the pond. Suddenly, a shadow passed over them and Gail gave a small cry of alarm. Looking up she saw a large bird outlined against the sky. As she watched, it wheeled and floated over the pond, disappearing into the night.
“What was that?” Jeb whispered.
“Great horned owl. A big one.”
“Are they dangerous?” Gail asked timidly.
The Rough Rider Page 27