Jess of the Rebel Trail Part 39

"Oh, that's all right," Randall replied. "And you feel quite sure that my daughter is on Island Lake?"

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised. Where else would John take her?"

"It is reasonable and worth looking into, anyway. And say, there's a boat out there, isn't there?"

"Yes, John has a good one."

"But suppose it's on the island if I should want it?"

"Oh, jist holler, an' if he doesn't know who ye are, he'll row over fer you. But most likely John will come back in the mornin', so he'll have to bring the boat over. Ye see, he'll have to go home to look after the stock. If ye happen to be around the lake when he's home, most likely ye'll be able to git the boat."

"A good idea," Randall replied. He then spoke to the chauffeur, and in another instant the car was away.

Eben stood for a few minutes staring through the darkness down the road.

"I wonder if he'll go to Island Lake?" he mused. "If he does, Gabe needn't go, an' so he won't want me. I'd rather be hidin' around in the bushes to see the fun. I'd like to see John an' Randall in a stand-up fight, I surely would. But mebbe it'd be better fer John to go back to the island an' not find his sweetheart. Say, it 'ud be great to watch him ramp an' tear around."

A cry of pain and fright from the house nearby startled him. Wheeling sharply around, he saw that the front door was open and the form of a woman was falling down the rickety steps. Surprised beyond measure, Eben hurried forward until he reached the prostrate woman. She was moaning and sobbing bitterly, and making no effort to rise.

"What's the matter?" Eben asked, bending over her. "Are ye hurt?"

"Yes, yes," the woman wailed. "He hit me, and kicked me out of the house."

"Who did?" Eben straightened himself up, while his hands clenched hard.

"Who hit ye?"

"Gabe, of course. But don't go in; he might kill you. He's in a terrible rage."

With a bound Eben was through the door and into the house. The room was a sight to behold. Chairs and tables were upset, broken dishes were lying on the floor, and several frightened, half-dressed children were huddled in one corner. In the middle of the room stood the master of the house, his moon-like face red with anger. He retreated a few steps as Eben appeared.

"Did you do that?" the latter demanded, shaking his right fist menacingly before Grimsby.

"Yes I did," was the surly reply. "And it's none of your d---- business what I do in my own house. Get out of this."

Eben's only reply was to seize Gabe by his coat collar, and yank him suddenly forward. Then he shook him as a dog would shake a rat, while Grimsby filled the house with his howls of distress. He was a veritable coward at heart, and in Eben's hands he was as helpless as a child.

"Ye'll kill me, ye'll kill me!" he wailed. "Fer G.o.d's sake, let up."

"I want to kill ye," his captor roared. "Yer not worth livin'. Take that, an' that, an' that."

Eben had lost complete control of himself now. The fury of his pa.s.sion was let loose, and he shook and thumped his victim unmercifully.

Grimsby's fear increased to terror, and he made frantic efforts to free himself. He even fought and bit, but all in vain. Eben held him firm, and at last pinning him with his body upon the floor he began to deal blow after blow upon the victim's face and head.

There is hardly the shadow of a doubt but that Eben would have killed Gabe there and then, so intense was his rage. But at this critical moment Mrs. Grimsby caught him by the arm and attempted to pull him away from her husband.

"Don't kill him, don't kill him," she pleaded. "Be careful what you are doing."

This appeal brought Eben somewhat to his senses, and his hands relaxed.

He hesitated for a few seconds, and then rose slowly to his feet.

"He ought to be killed," he growled. "He's a brute."

"I know, I know," the woman agreed. "But you mustn't do it. It would be murder, and you would be hung."

A grim smile overspread Eben's face, as he stepped back, and folded his arms.

"Well, then, s'pose you kill him," he suggested. "He tried to kill you, so it's better fer you to do it first."

"No, no," the woman protested. "There must be no killing here. Get up, Gabe," she ordered, touching her husband with her foot. "You must be thoroughly ashamed of yourself by this time. Maybe this will knock some sense into your head."

Very reluctantly the defeated man drew himself up to his knees, and then staggered to his feet. His face was swollen where Eben's fists had fallen, and his eyes were wild with fear. He edged away from his antagonist, and kept as close as possible to his wife.

"Don't let him touch me again," he begged. "He's not a human being, but the devil in the form of a man. I never saw anything like him."

"Don't be such a coward," his wife chided. "If you behave yourself he won't hurt you."

"Indeed I won't," Eben agreed. "But look here, Gabe Grimsby, if ye ever lay hands on yer wife agin, an' I hear of it, I'll come an' tear ye to pieces. D'ye call yerself a man to hit a woman, an' her yer wife?"

"But she provoked me," Gabe defended.

"What did she do?"

"She stole my money; that's what she did."

"You're a liar," his wife charged. "It wasn't your money, anyway. I merely took it back to where it belongs."

"Ye did?" Gabe snarled. "So that's where ye were, eh? Why didn't ye tell me that before?"

"I didn't have to, Gabe Grimsby. If you'd acted like a man when you came home, I might have told you. But, no, when you got here and found that I was away, instead of staying with the children you went off to the store. Then when you did come home and found that supper was not ready because I just got back, you began to act like a demon. If it hadn't been for Eben here, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"An' he hit ye fer that?" Eben asked in surprise.

"Yes, for that, and because of the money."

"What money?"

"Hush-money; that's what it was. He dragged it out of Mrs. Hampton, that's what he did, the villain. She paid him to keep silent."

The light of understanding dawned in Eben's eyes, and he even smiled.

"It had to do with the girl, eh?" he queried. "Mrs. Hampton paid Gabe to say nuthin' about her, I s'pose. She wants to keep her hidden from her dad. I came here in his car, and I tell ye he's mighty mad."

"Has he found her?" Grimsby asked, forgetting in his interest his battered face.

"Naw, he hasn't found her. But he will, though, if you don't git a hustle on. He knows where she is."

"He does! Where?"

"Oh, it's no use tellin' you. What can you do? You'll be in bed to-morrow nursin' yer face."