By some means, hard to understand, this young man had dropped his pocket-knife, bearing these initials, on the floor of the upper room of the brick mansion, at the time he entered it disguised as an ordinary tramp, and with the sole purpose of robbery.
It was proven, therefore, that Bud had committed that great offense against the laws of his country, as well as against those of his Maker, and he was deserving of severe punishment.
But young, as bright, honest Fred Sheldon was, he knew that the hardest work of all remained before him.
How was the silver plate to be recovered, for the task would be less than half performed should the owners fail to secure that?
How could the guilt of Bud Heyland be brought home to him, and who was his partner?
Although Fred was sure that the stranger who called himself Cyrus Sutton was the other criminal, yet he saw[Pg 134] no way in which that fact could be established, nor could he believe that the proof which he held of Bud's criminality would convince others.
Bud was such an evil lad that he would not hesitate to tell any number of falsehoods, and he was so skilled in wrong talking, as well as wrong doing, that he might deceive every one else.
Fred Sheldon felt that he needed now the counsel of one person above all others. The one man to whom his thoughts first turned was Archie Jackson, the constable, and he was afraid to trust him, for the temptation of obtaining the large reward offered was likely to lead him to do injustice to the boy.
The one person whom he longed to see above all others was his mother—that noble, brave woman whose love and wisdom had guided him so well along his journey of life, short though it had been.
It was she who had awakened in him the desire to become a good and learned man, who had cheered him in his studies, who had entertained him with stories culled from history and calculated to arouse an honorable ambition in his heart.
The memory of his father was dim and misty, but there was a halo of glory that would ever envelop that sacred name.
Fred could just remember the bright spring morning when the patriot, clad in his uniform of a private, had taken his wee baby boy in his arms, tossed him in the air, and, as he came down, kissed him over and over again, and told him that he was the son of a soldier who[Pg 135] intended to fight for his country; and commending him to God and his wife, had resigned him to the weeping mother, who was pressed to his heart, and then, catching up his musket he had hurried out the little gate and walked rapidly down the road.
Held in the mother's arms, Fred had strained his baby eyes until the loved form of his father faded out in the distance, and then the heavy-hearted wife took up the burden of life once more.
But, though she shaded her weary eyes and looked down the road many a time, the husband never came back again. Somewhere, many long miles away, he found his last resting place, there to sleep until the last trump shall wake the dead, and those who have been separated in this life shall be reunited, never to part again.
Fred's memories of those sad days, we say, were dim and shadowy, but he saw how bravely his mother fought her own battle, more sorrowful than that in which the noble husband went down, and Fred, young though he was, had been all that the fondest mother could wish.
"Let him be spared to me, oh, Heavenly Father," she plead, and henceforth she lived only for him.
It was she who taught him to kneel at her knee and to murmur his prayers morning and evening; who told him of the Gracious Father who will reward every good deed and punish every evil one not repented of; it was she who taught him to be manly and truthful and honest and brave for the right, and whose counsel and guidance were more precious than those of any earthly friend ever could be.
[Pg 136]
Fred had no secret from her, and now that so much had taken place in the last few days he felt that he could not stand it much longer without her to counsel and direct him.
"I sha'n't tell anybody a word of what I've found out," he said to himself, as he walked thoughtfully along the road, in the direction of the old brick mansion, where he expected to spend the night; "the Misses Perkinpine are such simple souls that they can't help a big boy like me, and though they might give me something, I don't want it unless I earn it. I'll bet mother can give me a lift."
And holding this very high and not exaggerated opinion of his parent's wisdom, he continued onward, fervently hoping that she would return on the morrow.
"We've never been apart so long since I can remember," he added, "and I'm beginning to feel homesick."
The night was clear and starlight, the moon had not yet risen, but he could see very distinctly for a short distance in the highway. He was thinking of nothing in the way of further incident to him, but, as it sometimes happens in this world, the current of one's life, after flowing smoothly and calmly for a long time, suddenly comes upon shoals and breakers and everything is stormy for a while.
Fred, in accordance with his favorite custom, had his trousers rolled high above his knees, and was barefooted. In the dust of the road he walked without noise, and as the night was very still he could hear the least sound.
Though involved in deep thought he was of such a[Pg 137] wide-awake nature that he could never be insensible to what was going on around him. He heard again the soft murmur of the wind in the forest, the faint, distant moan of the river, the cock crowing fully a mile away, answered by a similar signal of a chanticleer still further off, and then all at once he distinctly caught the subdued sound of voices.
He at once stopped in the road and looked and listened. He could see nothing, but his keen ears told him the faint noise came from a point directly ahead, and was either in or at the side of the road.
His intimate knowledge of the highway, even to the rocks and fences and piles of rails, that here and there lined it, enabled him to recall that there was a broad, flat rock, perhaps a hundred rods ahead, on the right side of the path, and that it was the one on which many a tired traveler sat down to rest.
No doubt the persons whose voices reached him were sitting there, holding some sort of conference, and Fred asked himself how he should pass them without discovery, for, like almost every one, he was timid of meeting strangers on a lonely road after dark.
His recourse suggested itself the next minute—he had only to climb the fence and move around them.
At this point there was a meadow on each side of the highway, without any trees near the road, so that great care was needed to avoid observation, but in the starlight night Fred had little doubt of being able to get by without detection.
Very carefully he climbed the fence, and, dropping[Pg 138] gently upon the grass on the other side, he walked off across the field, peering through the gloom in the direction of the rock by the roadside, whence came the murmur of voices.
The boy was so far away that, as yet, he had not caught a glimpse of the others, but when he stopped at the point where he thought it safe to begin to approach the road again, one of the parties gave utterance to an exclamation in a louder voice than usual.
Fred instantly recognized it as that of Cyrus Sutton, the cattle drover, who had formed such a strong friendship for Bud Heyland.
"I'll bet that Bud is there, too," muttered Fred, moving stealthily in the direction of the rock; "they are always—halloo!"
In imitation of the loud voice of Sutton, the other did the same, and in the still night there could be no mistaking it; the only son of Michael Heyland was sitting at the roadside, in conversation with Cyrus Sutton.
It was natural that Young Sheldon should conclude they were discussing the subject of the robbery, and he was at once seized with the desire to learn what it was they were saying, for, more than likely, it would throw some light on the matter.
Fred had been taught by his mother that it was mean to tell tales of, or to play the eavesdropper upon, another, but in this case he felt warranted in breaking the rule for the sake of the good that it might do.
Accordingly, he crept through the grass toward the highway until he caught the outlines of the two figures[Pg 139] between the fence rails and thrown against the sky beyond. At the same time the rank odor of tobacco came stealing through the summer air, as it floated from the strong briar-wood pipe of Bud Heyland.
It was not to be supposed that two persons, engaged in an unlawful business, would sit down beside a public highway and hold a conversation in such a loud voice that any one in the neighborhood would be able to learn all their secrets.
Fred Sheldon got quite close, but though the murmur was continued with more distinctness than before, he could not distinguish many words nor keep the run of the conversation. There may have been something in the fact that the faces of the two, as a rule, were turned away from the listener, but now and then in speaking one of them would look at the other and raise his voice slightly.
This indicated that he was more in earnest just then, and Fred caught a word or two without difficulty, the fragments, as they reached him, making a queer jumble.
Bud Heyland's voice was first identified in the jumble and murmur.
"Big thing—clean two thousand—got it down fine, Sutton."
The reply of the companion was not audible, but Bud continued staring at him and smoking so furiously that the boy, crouching behind them, plainly saw the vapor as it curled upward and tainted the clear summer air above their heads.
In a moment, however, Fred caught the profile of[Pg 140] Cyrus Sutton against the starlight background, while that of young Heyland and his briar-wood looked as if drawn in ink against the sky.
Both were looking at each other, and the words reached him more distinctly.
"Must be careful—dangerous business—been there myself, Bud, don't be in a hurry."
This, of course, was spoken by the cattle drover, and it was plain that it must refer to the robbery. Bud was laboring under some impatience and was quick to make answer.
"Can't play this sick bus'ness much longer—must join the circus at Belgrade in a few days—must make a move pretty soon."
"Won't keep you waiting long—but the best jobs in—country—spoiled by haste. Take it easy till you can be sure how the land lies."
"That may all be—but——"
Just then Bud Heyland turned his head so that only the back portion was toward the listener, and his voice dropped so low that it was some time before another word could be distinguished.
Fred Sheldon was deeply interested, for a new and strong suspicion was beginning to take possession of him.
It seemed to him on the sudden that the two worthies were not discussing the past so much as they were the future.
That is, instead of talking about the despoiling of the Perkinpine mansion, a few nights before, they were laying plans for the commission of some new offense.
[Pg 141]
"That Sutton is a regular burglar," thought Fred, "and he has come down here to join Bud, and they're going to rob all the houses in the neighborhood. I wonder whom they're thinking about now."
The anxiety of the eavesdropper to hear more of what passed between the conspirators was so great that he grew less guarded in his movements than he should have been.
His situation was such already that had the suspicion of the two been directed behind them they would have been almost sure to discover the listener; but, although they should have been careful themselves, it was hardly to be expected that they would be looking for spies in such a place and at such a time.
Fred caught several words, which roused his curiosity to such a point that he determined to hear more, though the risk should be ten times as great.
As silently, therefore, as possible, he crept forward until he was within a dozen feet of the rock on which Heyland and Sutton sat.
The fact that the two had their faces turned away from him, still interfered with the audibility of the words spoken in a lower tone than the others, but the listener heard enough to fill him not only with greater anxiety than ever, but with a new fear altogether.
Without giving all the fragments his ear caught, he picked up enough to convince him that Bud Heyland and Cyrus Sutton were discussing their past deeds and laying plans for the commission of some new act of evil.
It was the latter fact which so excited the boy that he[Pg 142] almost forgot the duty of using care against being discovered, and gradually crept up near enough to keep the run of the conversation.
But, when he had secured such a position, he was annoyed beyond bearing by the silence, occasionally broken, of the two. It looked, indeed, as if they had got through the preliminaries of some evil scheme, and were now speaking in a desultory way of anything which came in their heads, while one smoked his pipe and the other his cigar.
Cyrus Sutton held a jack-knife in his hand, which he now and then rubbed against a portion of the rock, as if to sharpen the blade, while he puffed the smoke first on the one side of his head and then on the other. Bud was equally attentive to his pipe, the strong odor of which at times almost sickened young Sheldon. Bud had not his whip with him, and he swung his legs and knocked his heels against the rock and seemed as well satisfied with himself as such worthless fellows generally are.
"It's a pretty big thing and it will take a good deal of care and skill to work it through."
This remark was made by Sutton, after a minute's pause on the part of both, and was instantly commented upon by Bud in his off-hand style.
"Of course it does, but don't you s'pose we know all that? Haven't we done it in more than one other place than Tottenville?"
"Yes," said Sutton, "and I've run as close to the wind as I want to, and closer than I mean to again, if I can help it."
[Pg 143]
"Well, then," said Bud, "we'll fix it to-morrow night."
"All right," said the drover, "but remember you can't be too careful, Bud, for this is a dangerous business."
"I reckon I'm as careful as you or any one else," retorted the youth, "and ain't in any need of advice."
These words disclosed one important fact to Fred Sheldon; they showed that the unlawful deed contemplated was fixed for the succeeding night.
"They're going to break into another house," he mentally said, "and to-morrow is the time. Now, if I can only learn whose house it is, I will tell Archie Jackson."
This caused his heart to beat faster, and again the lad thought of nothing else than to listen and catch the words of the conspirators.
"Do you think we can manage it alone?" asked Sutton, turning his head so that the words were unmistakably distinct.
"What's to hinder? Halloo! what's that?"
Bud Heyland straightened himself and looked up and down the road. The affrighted Fred Sheldon saw his head and shoulders rise to view as he glanced about him, while his companion seemed occupied also in looking and listening.
What was it they had heard? The lad was not aware that he had made the slightest noise, but the next guarded remark of Heyland startled him.
"I heard something move, as if in the grass."
"It would be a pretty thing if some one overheard[Pg 144] our plans," said Cyrus Sutton, turning squarely about, so that his face was toward the crouching lad; "we ought to have looked out for that. Where did it seem to come from?"
"Maybe I was mistaken; it was very faint, and I couldn't think of the right course; it may have been across the road or behind us."
Fred Sheldon began to think it was time for him to withdraw, for his situation was becoming a dangerous one, indeed.
"I guess you were mistaken," said Sutton, off-hand; "this is a slow neighborhood and the people don't know enough to play such a game as that."
"You was saying a minute ago that you couldn't be too careful; I'll take a look across the road and up and down, while you can see how things are over the fence there."
The last clause referred to the hiding place of Fred Sheldon, who wondered how it was he had not already been seen, when he could distinguish both forms so plainly, now that they stood up on their feet.
It looked as if detection was certain, even without the two men shifting their positions in the least.
The lad was lying flat on the ground and so motionless that he might have hoped to escape if special attention were not called to him.
But he felt that if the cattle-drover came over the fence it would be useless to wait a second.
As Bud Heyland spoke he started across the highway, while Cyrus Sutton called out:
[Pg 145]
"All right!"
As he did so he placed his hand on the top rail of the fence and with one bound leaped over, dropping upon his feet within a few steps of poor Fred Sheldon, who, with every reason for believing he had been seen, sprang to his feet and ran for dear life.