Down South Part 8

When I had considered this subject for a few minutes, I found my blood boiling with indignation. Before I saw the snake, I was more inclined to regard the whole trick in the light of a practical joke, rather than as a serious matter. It seemed to me just then that my ancient enemy, in his bargain with Carrington, intended to resort to some such device to get rid of me.

I did not intend to spend the night in that attic chamber; and when my blood began to boil, I aimed a blow at one of the panels of the door with the heavy stick in my hand. The thin board that formed this part of the door split under the blow. I followed it up as though I had been chopping wood. The panel s.h.i.+vered under the vigorous a.s.sault I made upon it. In a minute, I had a hole through. Inserting my stick in the opening, I pried out the rest of the panel. But the hole was not big enough to admit the pa.s.sage of my body.

I had hardly succeeded in making a breach in the door, before I heard the most l.u.s.ty screams in the lower part of the house. I had no difficulty in recognizing the voice of Mrs. Boomsby. She heard the noise of my bombardment, and was calling her husband in her usual affectionate manner. But I was not at all disturbed by the outcry. I was even willing they should bring the police to their a.s.sistance. But I did not expect any outside aid would be called in, for that would do the Boomsbys more harm than it would me. In a word, I did not care who came: I intended to break my way out of my prison, all the same.

Placing my stick edgeways in the opening I had made, I had a good leverage, the end of the bar being outside of the stile of the door, and the face of it against the middle piece. I pushed against the end of the lever with all the power I had. The middle stile snapped in the mortise, for the whole door was not more than an inch and a quarter thick. I had broken out the mortise, and the lever went "home." I could no longer apply the implement with effect, and I expected every minute to see the portly form of Captain Boomsby on the stairs, hurrying up to save his prisoner. But I had no fear of him: if he attempted to prevent my departure, I should use the stick as an argument with him, as I had done with the door.

Finding I could no longer use the lever to advantage, I grasped the middle piece of the door with both hands, and gave a desperate pull at it. There were no nails or pins to resist me, and the parts of the door snapped like pipe-stems. I wrenched out the middle piece, and then the other panel. Then I had an opening in the door eighteen inches wide, which was almost enough to permit the pa.s.sage of my fat foe.

The middle piece and both panels of the upper part of the door lay in many pieces on the floor, in the room, and in the hall. I used all reasonable haste in making my way through the opening I had forced.

When I was in the hall, I began to feel good-natured again; for I will not deny that I was mad when I realized my relations with that snake. I did not care a straw for Captain Boomsby. If it came to the worst, I believed I could "handle" him, to use his own choice phrase, with the aid of the stick in my hand. I was determined not to let the piece of hard pine go out of my hands while I remained in the house.

Mrs. Boomsby was still shouting for "Parker Boomsby," for she always called him by his full name when she was excited. I was willing she should shout. I felt quite cool, composed, and pleasant. I was ready to make an orderly retreat from the house. But I had not lost all interest in that snake, which I believed was intended for my executioner. I put my head into the opening I had made in the door. I found I could reach the door of the closet; and with a very hasty movement I threw it wide open.

I wondered whether or not I had killed his snakes.h.i.+p when I poked him back into his prison. The last I had seen of him he was wriggling on the floor, stirring himself up in the most lively manner. But the reptile immediately proved that I had not killed him by darting out into the room as lively as he had done the same thing before. I did not believe it was possible for him to get out through the opening by which I had escaped from my prison; but I was not quite willing to wait to test the question. The villain could crawl like most other snakes with which I was familiar, but he also had a talent for leaping. I considered it wise and prudent to begin my retreat without any delay.

I took a last look at the snake. He had retreated to the corner of the room opposite the closet-door and coiled himself up, with his head in the centre. He kept his eyes fixed on me, or I fancied he did. He looked as ugly as sin itself. He seemed to me to be as near like Captain Boomsby as one pin is like another. They both did business on the same principle. Mentally I bade him an affectionate adieu. So far as I was concerned, he seemed to have none of the serpent's power of fascination, for I had not the slightest inclination to continue gazing at him after I had gratified my curiosity. I descended the upper flight of stairs. The doors of the rooms on this floor were all open, and I saw that the two rear chambers were furnished as bedrooms.

I went into one of these rooms, and seated myself in a chair. Mrs.

Boomsby was on the floor below, standing at the head of the stairs, calling for her husband. It has taken me a long time to record the incidents of my escape so far, and my reflections upon them; but when I looked at my watch I found that only eight minutes had elapsed since I consulted it before, at half past five. Probably it was not five minutes from the time I first saw the snake till I was seated in the chair in the room below. The lady of the house had not, therefore, stood a great while in her present position. Her husband had had time enough to come up-stairs since he was first called, but he probably had a customer in the saloon.

As I sat in the chair, I suddenly began to wonder whether snakes had a talent for coming down-stairs. The idea was just a little bit appalling, for I had no desire to meet his snakes.h.i.+p again. Neither the stairs nor the halls were carpeted. If he came down in the usual way, I should be likely to hear him tumbling down the steps. But I rejected this idea; for on further reflection I concluded that a snake would not come down like a man, when there was a better way for one of his habits to accomplish the purpose. Whatever the villain was, if he came down at all, he would take to the stair-rail. I felt sure of this, for it seemed to be the most natural thing for a snake to do.

I could not see how the snake was to get out of the room. I did not think he could crawl up to the opening I had made, for there was nothing for him to fasten to in his ascent. It did not seem to me that he could get out unless he made a flying leap through the opening. I was by no means sure he could not do this; and I did not care to wait for him to experiment on the matter. Just then it occurred to me that I was not the only person liable to be bitten by that snake. As I thought of it, I walked down the stairs. I knew that Mrs. Boomsby had a mortal terror of snakes when I lived with the family.

She confronted me in the hall of the second story.

CHAPTER X.

THE FELLOW IN THE LOCK-UP.

"You abominable wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. Boomsby, placing her arms akimbo, and looking at me with the utmost ferocity, so that between her and the snake I found there was little choice. "What are you a-doin' in my house?"

"Getting out of it, Mrs. Boomsby," I replied, with the good-nature I had been nursing up-stairs for several minutes.

I wondered whether she knew anything about the snake. The bare thought was enough to a.s.sure me that she did not. She would no more have permitted the captain, or any other person, to bring the most harmless reptile into the house, than she would have opened her sleeping apartment for the reception of the sea-serpent, in which both she and her husband believed as in the ocean itself.

"What are you a-doin' here? Can't you let us be here no more'n you could in Michigan? Must you pursue us wherever we go?" demanded the lady, putting the matter in an entirely new light to me, for I believed I had always been able and willing to keep away from the Boomsbys.

"I was invited up-stairs to see you," I began.

"Don't tell me that! Do you think I live in the garret?"

"I thought we were going rather high up; but I supposed Captain Boomsby knew where to find you," I replied, smiling as sweetly as though there were no snakes in the Land of Flowers. "But it seems that your husband lured me up there to make a prisoner of me. He locked me into the little room in the rear attic, which he had fitted up for me by s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g boards over the window."

"Don't tell me such a ry-dicerlous story! I don't believe a word on't.

n.o.body ever could believe a word you say, Sandy Duddleton!"

"You know very well that I was up there; for I heard your husband tell you so. You talked with him about it, and insisted upon seeing me. But I don't wish to dispute about this matter with you, for I don't think you understand all his plans," I replied, moving towards the head of the stairs, while she planted herself before me so as to prevent my going down.

"Don't talk to me, Sandy Duddleton!"

"I won't talk to you if you will get out of my way, and let me out of the house," I replied, trying to get by her.

"What be you go'n' to do with that stick?" she asked, as she placed herself in front of me.

But I saw that she had a reasonable respect for the stick, and she was milder than I had seen her twenty times before. I looked about me to see if there was any other flight of stairs which would take me to the street, or to the back yard, which opened into a lane by the sh.o.r.e of the river. From the lower hall a door opened into the saloon; and this was the way by which I had come up. I stood in the hall with my back to a door, which I concluded must lead to the rear of the house. Without turning around, I opened this door.

"What be you a-doin'?" demanded Mrs. Boomsby, when she saw that she was flanked; for a glance behind me revealed the back stairs. "Parker Boomsby, come right up here, this minute!" she called down the front stairs.

"I won't trouble the captain," I interposed. "I have a word to say to you before I go, Mrs. Boomsby. I don't think you knew there was a snake about three feet long in the room where your husband made me a prisoner."

"A snake!" gasped the lady of the house, starting back with alarm. "I don't believe a word on't!"

But she did believe it, whatever she said.

"Yes, a snake; and I have no doubt he is a poisonous one, put there to bite me, and make an end of me, so that the captain could get possession of the steam-yacht!" I continued, rather vigorously, for I was afraid I should be interrupted by the coming of the captain.

"A snake in this house! a pizen one, too!" groaned Mrs. Boomsby.

"He was put in the closet; and when I opened the door he came out and made a spring at me. I left him in that room."

"Didn't you kill him, Sandy Duddleton? You used to kill snakes."

"I didn't kill this one, though I struck at him. I broke through the door, and, for aught I know, the snake is following me down-stairs," I replied deliberately. "I think you will see him coming down on the stair-rail."

She did not wait to hear any more, but, with a tremendous scream, rushed by me, bolted into the front room, and closed and locked the door behind her. I certainly did not wish the reptile to bite her or her children; but I did not think there was much danger of the villain getting out of the room through the opening I had made in the door.

The scream of the stout lady did not appear to move her husband, who was probably used to this sort of thing. I had put her on her guard in case the snake did work his way out of the room and down the stairs. I had done my duty, and I walked leisurely down to the hall. The door leading into the saloon was still wide open. The uses of this door were many and various. I had been not a little surprised in some of the Southern cities to notice that the drinking-saloons were all closed on Sunday. In some of them not even a cigar could be bought at the hotel on that day.

Doubtless the law was as strict in Jacksonville as elsewhere; but I had noticed that every saloon had a side door for Sunday use. The front door of the house was closed on other days; on Sunday it was left open, as an intimation that the saloon could be reached in that way. I thought of this Sunday rum-selling as I noticed the arrangement of the doors. Of course the police understood it.

I approached the door opening into the saloon, for I heard the voice of my former tyrant. I wanted to a.s.sure him that I was happy still, and that he had better look out for the snake before he bit any of his family.

"He never could get out of there in this world!" exclaimed Captain Boomsby, as I was about to enter the saloon.

"Do you think so, Captain Boomsby?" I coolly asked, as I walked into the room.

To my astonishment, the person to whom the Captain's remark appeared to be addressed was Mr. Kirby Cornwood, whom I had left on board of the Sylvania, asleep under the awning. The Floridian was evidently as much astonished to see me as I was to see him.

"We were speaking of a fellow who was arrested last night," said Cornwood, with one of his blandest smiles. "I think he will get out of the lock-up in less than three days; but the keeper of this place remarked that he would never get out in this world. Only a slight difference of opinion."

"I tell you the fellow will never get out; he isn't smart enough in the first place, and the lock-up is stronger than you think for, Mr.--I don't know's I know your name, though I cal'late I have seen you somewhere afore," added Captain Boomsby.

"I reckon you have seen me here before," replied Cornwood, taking his card from his pocket and presenting it to the captain.