THERE was no help for it. Dan could not make the Randalls take the medicine, though he knew when he got back to Mr. Savage, he would be blamed for their failure to keep it.
“Come on in and shut the door, Sam,” commanded the woman sharply. “First thing you know you’ll catch cold, and then you’ll have to take medicine.”
“If he does I hope I don’t have to bring it,” thought Dan.
“Good night,” said Mr. Randall, as he closed the door and locked it. Overhead Mrs. Randall slammed down the window.
“And they didn’t even say thank you,” mused Dan as he put the bottle into his pocket and mounted Bess.
Certainly it was a very mean way to treat him, for he had done his best. He was glad that Mrs. Randall had recovered, but he knew Mr. Savage would think less of that than the fact that he had spent a dollar for medicine, and was not likely to get it back.
“Maybe he’ll keep the bottle for himself,” thought Dan. “In that case he’ll not be so angry at me for bringing it back.” But this was a remote possibility.
The only consolation the boy had was that he had done his best. That he was late was no fault of his, for any one might have been deceived about the roads.
Tired and hungry, for the ride gave him a hearty appetite, Dan started back. He thought his employer’s sister might at least have asked him to come in after his long journey, and have given him something to eat. But Mrs. Randall was not that kind of a person. Her husband was a goodhearted man, but his wife ruled him, and he was somewhat afraid of her.
“Well, I don’t believe I’ll get lost going back, anyhow,” thought the boy. “That’s one comfort.”
Dan rode on for several miles. He passed through the town of Marsden, and knew he was within about an hour’s ride of home. It was still very dark, and the sky was overcast with clouds.
“I guess I’ll get a chance to sleep before I have to do the chores,” the lad reasoned. “Maybe I’ll stay out in the barn after I put Bess up. I can snuggle down in the hay, and I’ll not disturb Mr. Savage. I’d never get any sleep if I told him his sister wouldn’t take the medicine.”
Deciding on this plan Dan called to Bess to quicken her pace. As he went around a turn in the road, the soft dust deadening the hoof-beats of the mare, the boy saw a mass of dark shadows just ahead of him.
“Looks like a wagon,” he decided. “Probably some farmer around here making an early start for market.”
Bess settled into a slow walk, for the mare was tired, and Dan did not urge her. Just then the moon, which had risen late, shone dimly through a rift in the clouds. Dan was in the shadow cast by some willow trees, and he could see quite plainly now, that there were several men and a wagon, just ahead of him.
The wagon stood in the middle of the road, which at that point, was lined with woods on either side.
“THEY’RE HIDING STUFF,” DAN REASONED.—
“Maybe they’ve had a break-down,” said Dan to himself. “Perhaps I might be able to help them.”
He was about to ride forward when he saw one of the men take a bundle from the wagon, run across the road with it, and disappear in the woods.
“That’s funny,” thought the boy. “What can he be doing?”
A moment later another man did the same thing, carrying what seemed to be a heavy bundle. A third man remained on the wagon.
Dan saw that by keeping on one side of the road he would be in the shadow and could remain hidden until quite close to the mysterious men. Softly he urged Bess forward, the horse making no sound.
Once more he saw the men approach the wagon, take something out, and disappear in the woods with it.
“They’re hiding stuff,” Dan reasoned. “I wonder if they’re chicken thieves?”
Several henhouses had been robbed of late in the vicinity of Hayden, and Dan was on the alert.
“If it was hens they had,” he went on, “I could hear some noise made by the fowls cackling or flapping their wings. Whatever they have doesn’t make any noise.”
For perhaps the fourth time the mysterious men made a trip from the wagon into the woods. When the two returned the man on the wagon seat inquired:
“Well, got it all planted?”
“Yes, and planted good and deep,” was the reply.
“Come on then,” and the two who had carried the bundles got into the wagon, the horse being whipped to a gallop at once.
“Well, that’s queer,” decided Dan, as he saw the wagon vanish amid the shadows. “They were planting stuff, but what sort of stuff would they plant at night, and where could they plant it in the woods? There’s something queer back of this. I wish I could find out what it was, but I can’t stop now, or I’ll not get back to the farm before sunrise.”
He looked to make sure none of the men remained behind, and then he rode up to where the wagon had halted. There were visible in the dust by the dim moonlight, the marks of many feet, and the bushes on one side of the road were trampled down, showing where the men had entered the woods.
A gleam of something shining in the dust attracted Dan’s attention. He got off the mare and picked it up.
“A silver spoon!” he exclaimed as he examined it. “Perhaps those fellows were silverware peddlers and were hiding their stock in trade until they could come for it. Well, it doesn’t concern me, and I guess I’d better be going. I’ll keep this spoon for a souvenir.”
He thrust it into his pocket, jumped on the back of Bess, and was off down the road. He kept a lookout for the wagon containing the men, but it seemed to have turned off down a side road.
Dan reached the farm just as it was getting dawn. He put the mare in her stall, after watering and feeding her, and then crawled up into the hay-mow, hoping to get a little sleep before it would be time to start on his day’s work.
He must have slept quite soundly, for the sun was shining into the barn when he was awakened by hearing Mr. Savage exclaim:
“Wa’al, I wonder what keeps that lazy boy?” Then the farmer caught sight of the mare in her stall. “Why, he’s back! I wonder where’s he hidin’? Loafin’ again, that’s what he is!”
“Here I am, Mr. Savage,” spoke Dan, sliding down from the pile of hay.
“What in th’ name a’ Tunket be ye doin’ thar?”
“I did not want to disturb you by coming into the house, so I slept out here.”
“Thought ye’d git a longer chance t’ lay abed, I s’pose. Did ye git th’ dollar an’ a half?”
Mr. Savage thought more of the money than he did of the condition of his sister, as was evidenced by his question.
“No, I didn’t get it,” answered Dan.
“Ye don’t mean t’ say ye lost it? Lost a dollar an’ a half! If ye have—”
“They wouldn’t give it to me. She did not need the medicine, as she was better.”
“Didn’t want th’ medicine, after I bought it fer her? Why, good land a’ Tunket: She has t’ take it!”
“She said it came too late.”
“Then it’s your fault, Dan Hardy! Ye loitered on th’ road, until my sister got better. Now I’m out a dollar an’ a half through you! I’ll make ye pay—”
Then Mr. Hardy seemed to remember that Dan never had any money, and could not pay for the medicine.
“I’ll—I’ll get it outer ye somehow,” he threatened. “Th’ idea of wastin’ time, an’ makin’ me throw away a dollar an’ a half!”
“Can’t you keep the medicine until you or Mrs. Savage need it?” asked Dan, trying to see a way out of the difficulty.
“Keep it? Why I might have it in th’ house six months an’ never need it. I ain’t never sick, an’ there is my money all tied up in a bottle of medicine. It’s a shame, that’s what ’tis! Wimmin folks hadn’t oughter git sick! Now ye’d better git t’ work. Them onions need weedin’ agin.”
“I haven’t had my breakfast, Mr. Savage.”
“Wa’al, ye don’t deserve any, but I s’pose ye got t’ have it. Go int’ th’ house, but hustle.”
The boy, who resented this way of being talked to, started for the kitchen, where he knew he was likely to meet sour words and angry looks from Mrs. Savage.
“I s’pose I’d better put this bottle away where it won’t git busted,” murmured Mr. Savage, as he followed Dan. “I’m goin’ t’ write t’ Lucy, an’ see if I can’t make her pay me fer half of it anyhow.”
Dan thought his employer would have hard work making Mrs. Randall pay.
As the boy and the farmer were crossing the road to the house, they saw a man coming along the highway, riding a horse, which he was urging to a gallop.
“That’s Dr. Maxwell’s hired man,” observed Mr. Savage. “I wonder what’s the matter?”
The man was opposite them now.
“What’s the matter, Silas?” called Mr. Savage.
“Burglars!” exclaimed Silas. “Dr. Maxwell’s house was robbed last night, an’ all the silverware stolen! I’m goin’ t’ th’ village after th’ constables!”