CHAPTER XVI
THE FLIGHT OF GILLINGWATER
"It will be better for me to break the news to Colonel Gillingwater,"said Jerry, "and you must go out and meet the troops yourself, with Mr.Cooke and that amusing Mr. Collins. There is no telling what effect mytidings will have on Rutherford, or what he will decide to do. He hasnever before been so near trouble as he is now, and I may have to givehim first aid to the injured when he finds out that the South Carolinatroops are on Raccoon Creek, all ready to march upon our sacred soil."
"But suppose your adjutant-general shouldn't go back to his troops afterhe sees you, then what am I to do?"
"If you don't see him by ten o'clock you will take personal command andexercise your own discretion as to the best method of landingAppleweight in a South Carolina jail. After that we must find papa, andit will be up to him to satisfy the newspapers and his constituents withsome excuse for his strange disappearance."
Collins had come from Raleigh on the evening train, and he had solemnlyassured Ardmore that the present state of affairs could not bemaintained another twenty-four hours. He had exhausted his professionalresources, and the North Carolina newspapers of all shades of opinionwere clamoring for the truth, and were insisting that, for the honor anddignity of the state, Governor Dangerfield should show himself inRaleigh. Even the metropolitan press, which Collins had filled forseveral days with blithe stories of the administration's vigorous policyin the Appleweight case, had refused further matter from him.
"We've got to find Dangerfield or bust. Now, where is that eminentstatesman, Ardmore? You can't tell me you don't know; but if you don't,Miss Dangerfield does, and she's got to tell."
"She hasn't the slightest idea, but if the newspapers find out that he'sreally and truly missing, he will have to show up; but first we've gotto take Appleweight off that case of Chateau Bizet and lodge him in thejail at Turner Court House, and let Governor Osborne have the odium ofincarcerating the big chief of the border, to whom he is under thegreatest political obligations."
"But it's all over the country now that Osborne hasn't been seen inColumbia since he and Dangerfield had that row in New Orleans. Cranksare turning up everywhere, pretending to be governors of various states,and old Dangerfield is seen on all the outgoing steamers. There's beennothing like it since the kidnapping of Charley Ross."
Ardmore drew on his riding-gloves reflectively, and a delighted grinilluminated his countenance.
"I caught a lunatic down on the Raccoon this afternoon who said _he_ wasthe governor of South Carolina, and I locked him up."
"Well, he may be Osborne," remarked Collins, with journalisticsuspicion.
"And he may be a Swiss admiral or the king of Mars. I guess I'm agovernor myself, and I know what a governor looks like and actslike--you can't fool me. I put this impostor where he'll have a chanceto study astronomy to-night."
"Then he isn't on that case of Chateau Bizet with Appleweight?"
"No; I locked him up in a corn-crib until I get time to study hiscredentials. Come along now!"
Ardmore, Collins and Cooke rode rapidly away through the wide gates ofthe estate along the Sapphire road, over which, by his last bulletin,the adjutant-general of North Carolina was marching his troops. Theyhad left Cooke's men with Paul's foresters to guard the house and topicket the banks of the Raccoon in the immediate neighborhood of thecamp of the South Carolinians.
"I guess those fellows can hold 'em till morning," said Cooke. "We'vegot to clean up the whole business by to-morrow night. You can't havetwo states at war with each other this way without shaking up theuniverse, and if federal troops come down here to straighten things outit won't be funny."
They had ridden about a mile, when Cooke checked his horse with anexclamation.
"There's somebody coming like the devil was after him. It must beGillingwater."
They drew rein and waited, the quick patter of hoofs ringing out sharplyin the still night. The moonlight gave them a fair sweep of the road,and they at once saw a horseman galloping rapidly toward them.
"Lordy, the man's on fire!" gasped Ardmore.
"By George, you're right!" muttered Collins, moving nervously in hissaddle. "It's a human sunburst."
"It's only his gold braid," explained the practical Cooke.
"He must have on solid gold armor, then," declared Collins.
Seeing three men drawn across the road, the horseman began to check hisflight.
"Men!" he shouted, as his horse pawed the air with its forefeet, "isthis the road to Ardsley?"
"Right you are," yelled Cooke, and they were aware of a flash, a glitterthat startled and dazzled the eye, and Colonel Rutherford Gillingwaterthundered on.
Ardmore looked at his watch.
"He's undoubtedly a man of action, if I ever saw one; and I think we areto be congratulated on having so gallant a commander for our troops,"said the master of Ardsley; but the sight of Rutherford Gillingwater hadfilled his soul with jealous forebodings. He had heard that women areprone to fall in worship before warriors in their battle armor, and hewas sure that Jerry Dangerfield was a girl of infinitely kind heart, whomight not, when face to face with the issue, subject the man she hadengaged to marry to any severe test.
They rode on, however, and saw presently the lights of camp-fires, and alittle later were ceremoniously halted at the roadside by an armedguard.
It had been arranged that Collins, who had once been a secondlieutenant in the Georgia militia, should be presented as an officer ofthe regular army, detailed as special aide to Governor Dangerfieldduring the encampment, and that in case Gillingwater failed to returnpromptly he should take command of the North Carolina forces.
An open field had been seized for the night's camp, and the tentsalready shone white in the moonlight. The three men introducedthemselves to the militia officers, and Collins expressed their regretthat they had missed the adjutant-general.
"Governor Dangerfield wished you to move your force on to Ardsley shouldwe fail to meet Colonel Gillingwater; and you had better strike yourtents and be in readiness to advance in case he doesn't personallyreturn with orders."
Captain Collins, as he had designated himself, apologized for not beingin uniform.
"I lost my baggage train," he laughed, "and Governor Dangerfield is soanxious not to miss this opportunity to settle the Appleweight case thatI hurried out to meet you with these gentlemen."
"Appleweight!" exclaimed the group of officers in amazement.
"None other than the great Appleweight!" responded Collins. "Thegovernor has him in his own hands at last, and is going to carry himacross the border and into a South Carolina bastile, as a littlepleasantry on the governor of South Carolina."
"He's had a sudden change of heart if he's captured Appleweight,"remarked a major incredulously. "His policy has always been to let oldBill alone."
"It's only a ripple of the general reform wave that's sweeping thecountry," suggested Ardmore cheerfully. "Turn the rascals out; put therascals in; keep the people hopeful and the jails full. That's theDangerfield watchword."
"Well, I guess Dangerfield knows how to drive the hearse if there's gotto be a funeral," observed the quartermaster. "The governor's not a manto ride inside if he can find another corpse."
And they all laughed and accepted the situation as promising betterdiversion than they had expected from the summer maneuvers.
The militia officers gave the necessary orders for breaking thehalf-formed camp, and then turned their attention to the entertainmentof their guests. Ardmore kept track of the time, and promptly at teno'clock Collins rose from the log by the roadside where they had beensitting.
"We must obey the governor's orders, gentlemen," said Collinscourteously, "and march at once to Ardsley. I, you understand, am only acourier, and your guest for the present."
"If you please," asked Cooke, when the line had begun to move forward,"what is that wagon over there?"
He pointed to a mule team hitched to a quarterm
aster's wagon that anegro was driving into position across the rough field. It was piledhigh with luggage, a pyramid that rose black against the heavens. One ofthe militia officers, evidently greatly annoyed, bawled to the driver toget back out of the way.
"Pardon me," said Collins politely, "but is that your personal baggage,gentlemen?"
"That belongs to Colonel Gillingwater," remarked the quartermaster. "Therest of us have a suit-case apiece."
"Do you mean," demanded Ardmore, "that the adjutant-general carries allthat luggage for himself?"
"That is exactly it! But," continued the quartermaster loyally, "younever can tell what will happen when you take the field this way, andour chief is not a man to forget any of the details of military life."
"In Washington we all think very highly of Colonel Gillingwater,"remarked Collins, with noble condescension, "and in case we shouldbecome involved in war he would undoubtedly be called to high rank inthe regular establishment."
"It's too bad," said Cooke, as the three drew aside and waited for abattery of light artillery to rumble into place behind the infantry,"it's too bad, Collins, that it didn't occur to you to impersonate thepresident of the French Republic or Emperor William. You'll be my deathbefore we finish this job."
"This won't be so funny when Dangerfield gets hold of us," grinned thereporter. "We'd better cheer up all we can now. We're playing with thestate of North Carolina as though it were a bean-bag. But what's thatover there?"
The pyramidal baggage wagon had gained the road behind them, andlingered uncertainly, with the driver asleep and waiting for orders. Theconspirators were about to gallop forward to the head of the movingcolumn, when Collins pointed across the abandoned campground to where ahorseman, who had evidently made a wide detour of the advancing column,rode madly toward the baggage wagon.
"The gentleman's trying to kill his horse, I should judge," murmuredArdmore. "By Jove!"
"It's Gillingwater!" chorused the trio.
The rider in his haste had overlooked the men in the road. He dashedthrough the wide opening in the fence, left by the militiamen, took theditch by the roadside at a leap, wakened the sleeping driver on thewagon with a roar, and himself leaped upon the box and began turning thehorses.
"What do you think he's doing?" asked Cooke.
"He's in a hurry to get back to mother's cooking," replied Ardmore."He's seen Miss Dangerfield and learned that war is at hand, and he'sgoing to get his clothes out of danger. Lordy! Listen to him slashingthe mules!"
"But you don't think--"
The wagon had swung round, and already was in rapid flight. Collinshowled in glee.
"Come on! We can't miss a show like this!"
"Leave the horses then! There's a hill there that will break his neck.We'd better stop him if we can!" cried Cooke, dismounting.
They threw their reins to the driver of the wagon, who had been brushedfrom his seat by the impatient adjutant-general, and was chantingweirdly to himself at the roadside.
The wagon, piled high with trunks and boxes, was dashing forward,Gillingwater belaboring the mules furiously, and, hearing the shouts ofstrange pursuers, yelling at the team in a voice shrill with fear.
"Come on, boys!" shouted Ardmore, thoroughly aroused, "catch the spy andtraitor!"
The road dipped down into the shadow of a deep cut, where the moon's dimrays but feebly penetrated, and where the flow of springs had softenedthe surface; but the pursuers were led on by the rumble of the wagon,which swung from side to side perilously, the boxes swinging aboutnoisily and toppling threateningly at the apex. Down the sharp declivitythe wagon plunged like a ship bound for the bottom of the sea.
The pursuers bent gamely to their task in the rough road, with Cookeslightly in the lead. Suddenly he shouted warningly to the others, assomething rose darkly above them like a black cloud, and a trunk fellwith a mighty crash only a few feet ahead of them. The top had beenshaken off in the fall, and into it head first plunged Ardmore.
"There's another coming!" yelled Collins, and a much larger trunkstruck and split upon a rock at the roadside. Clothing of many kindsstrewed the highway. A pair of trousers, flung fiercely into the air,caught on the limb of a tree, shook free like a banner, and hung theresomberly etched against the stars.
Ardmore crawled out of the trunk, screaming with delight. The fragranceof toilet water broke freshly upon the air.
"It's his ammunition!" bawled Ardmore, rubbing his head where he hadstruck the edge of a tray. "His scent bottles are smashed, and it's onlyby the grace of Providence that I haven't cut myself on broken glass."
"Thump! Bump!" sounded down the road.
"Are those pants up there?" asked Cooke, pointing, "or is it a hole inthe sky?"
"This," said Collins, picking up a garment from the bush over which ithad spread itself, "has every appearance of being his little nightie.How indelicate!"
"No," said Ardmore, taking it from him, "it's a kimona of the mostexpensive silk, which the colonel undoubtedly wears when they get him upat midnight to hear the reports of his scouts."
They went down the road, stumbling now and then over a bit of debrisfrom the vanished wagon.
"It's like walking on carpet," observed Cooke, picking up a featheredchapeau. "I didn't know there were so many clothes in all the world."
They abandoned the idea of farther pursuit on reaching a trunk standingon end, from which a uniform dress-coat drooped sadly.
"This is not our trouble; it's his trouble. I guess he's struck asmoother road down there. We'd better go back," said Cooke.
"Whom the gods would destroy they first dress in glad rags," pipedCollins.
They sat down and laughed until the negro approached warily with thehorses.
"He's lost his raiment, but saved his life," sputtered Collins, climbinginto his saddle.
"He's lost more than that," remarked Ardmore, and his flushedcountenance, noted by the others as he lighted a cigarette, wascheerfuller than they had ever seen it before.
In a moment they had climbed the hill and were in hot pursuit of theadjutant-general's abandoned army.
The Little Brown Jug at Kildare Page 16
