A dozen horsemen, armed with rifles, came into view and passed on,
leaving a hovering cloud of dust in their wake. Moving swiftly, and
paler and graver, Dolly stood up, her steady gaze on the departing men.
"Did you hear that?" she said, dejectedly. "He ordered his men to--to
fire. Who knows? Perhaps before daybreak I shall have no--" She checked
herself, her small hand at her throat. "I shall have no father, and
with all his faults I love him dearly. He doesn't think moonshining is
wrong. Some of the most respectable persons--even ministers--wink at
it, if they don't actually take part. My father, like many others, has
an idea that the Government robbed the Southern people of all they had,
and they look on the law against whisky-making as an infringement on
their rights. I wish my father would obey the law, but he doesn't, and
now this has come. He may be killed or put in prison."
"You must try not to give way," Mostyn said, full of sympathy. "Don't
forget that Barnett has had time, perhaps, to warn them, and they may
escape."
"Oh, I hope so--I do--I do!" Still holding his hand, she led him back
to the gate, and stood resting her arms on its top, now almost
oblivious of his presence. Half an hour dragged by, during which no
remark of his could induce her to speak. Presently a low whistle came
from the wood across the road.
"That's Tobe now!" she cried. "Oh, I wonder if he was in time!" Then,
as she reached for the gate-latch he heard her praying: "God have
mercy--oh, Lord pity me--pity me!"
She opened the gate and passed out. He hung back, feeling that she
might not desire his presence at the meeting with Barnett, but again
she grasped his hand.
"Come on," she said. "Tobe will understand."
Crossing the road and walking along the edge of the wood for about a
hundred yards, they were presently checked by another whistle, and the
gaunt mountaineer emerged from the dense underbrush. Seeing Mostyn, he
paused as if startled, saying nothing, his eyes shifting helplessly.
"It's Mr. Mostyn--he knows everything, Tobe," Dolly threw in quickly.
"He's on our side--he's a friend. Now, tell me, what did you do?"
"Got to the still just in the nick o' time," Tobe said, panting, for he
had been running. "The gang started to handle me purty rough at
first--thought I was a spy--but your pa stepped in an' made 'em have
sense. They couldn't move any of their things on such short notice, but
the last one escaped just as the officers was ready for the rush."
"But my father?" Dolly inquired, anxiously.
"He's all right--he said he'd be home before morning. He has no idea
that you know about it."
"I'm glad of that. Oh, Tobe, you have been good to me to-night!" Dolly
took the humble fellow's hands and shook them affectionately.
"Well, if you hain't been good to me an' mine nobody ever was to a soul
on _this_ earth," Barnett half sobbed. "Mr. Mostyn, maybe you don't
know what Miss Dolly has--"
"Yes, I do, Barnett," Mostyn declared. "I know."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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