"Jack said he was quite seriously wounded, Marion. Still, the rascal may
have been playing possum with Jack, and stolen off on the sly."

"If he was strong enough to do that, perhaps he took Jack with him to
keep the boy from sounding an alarm."

"You may be right. We must find the boy if we can."

Slowly the day wore away, and no tidings came to the plantation. Toward
evening St. John put in an appearance.

"The soldiers have cleared out," he said. "There isn't a regiment of any
sort within a dozen miles."

"I am glad of it," answered Mrs. Ruthven, and then continued quickly,
"Have you seen anything of Jack?"

"Do you mean to-day?"

"Yes."

"No, I haven't seen him since he made such a mess of it up at our house,
putting out the fire," growled the spendthrift.

"It's a wonder you didn't put out the fire yourself," put in Marion
sharply. She did not like talk against her brother.

"I--I was sick, sicker than anybody supposed," stammered St. John. "Had
I been at all well, things would have gone on very differently, I can
assure you."

"Then you haven't seen or heard of Jack," said Mrs. Ruthven. "He has
been missing since last night."

"No, I haven't seen him--and I don't want to see him. He insulted me and
made trouble between me and my mother."

"On account of the fire?"

"Yes. He thinks he is a regular lord of creation, he does," went on St.
John hotly. "He wants dressing down, Aunt Alice."

"I cannot believe Jack has done anything very wrong."

"He is a nobody, and puts on altogether too many airs."

Mrs. Ruthven would not listen to this talk, and changed the subject by
asking him what had brought him over from his home.

"I was asked to come over and see if you had any of the Yankee wounded
here."

"Who sent you?"

"Colonel Bromley of our army."

"No, we have only Confederates here."

"How many?"

"Five. Four of them are doing very well, you can tell the colonel, but
the fifth was hurt when our house was struck by a cannon ball, and he is
now in a high fever."

"All right, I'll tell him."

"Have you joined the army at last?" questioned Marion curiously.

"Not exactly, but I told the colonel I would help him in any manner that
I could," answered St. John, and hurried away for fear of being
questioned further.

The truth of the matter was that the fire had brought on a bitter
quarrel between St. John and his mother, and the parent had insisted
that the son overcome his cowardice and do something for his country.
St. John had demurred in vain, and had at last gone to the Confederate
headquarters and offered his services; but as a civilian, not as a
soldier.

When the young man was gone Mrs. Ruthven and Marion had Old Ben and the
others make another search for Jack, and this hunt lasted far into the
night.

But it was of no avail; our hero had disappeared as utterly as if the
earth had opened and swallowed him.

"Mamma, do you think it possible that the Yankees captured him?" was the
question Marion put.

"Not unless Jack left home during the night, Marion. And what would
cause him to leave without telling us that he was going?"

"That is true. Jack wouldn't do anything to cause us anxiety."

"It is a great mystery," sighed Mrs. Ruthven.

Later a negro, living on the mountain side, came down to the plantation
and asked to see the lady of the house.

"I was t'inkin' yo' would be wantin' ter know wot became o' Master
Jack," said the colored man, who rejoiced in the name of Columbus
Washington.

"What do you know of him?" asked Mrs. Ruthven quickly.

"I seed him early dis mornin', missus--away up in the mountains."

"The mountains? Alone?"

"No, missus--he was a prisoner."

"Of the Yankees?"

"De men wot had him was dressed as Confed'rates, missus."

"You did not know them?"

"No, missus."

"And you are certain that Jack was held a prisoner?"

"Oh. yes, missus, fo' one ob de men said he would shoot if de boy tried
to git away from him."

Mrs. Ruthven clasped her hands in despair.

"A prisoner! Did you speak to him?"

"No, no! I was afraid to show myself. De men was armed an' I wasn't--an'
I didn't want to git in no trouble."

"Where were they taking Jack?"

"I can't say as to dat. I met dem on the ole mill trail near de blasted
tree."

"You saw nobody else around?"

"No, missus."

"It is very strange why Jack should be carried off in this fashion. I
wish you had followed them and seen what became of my boy."

"Perhaps I kin follow dem by de trail, missus. Ise putty good at dat."

"Then do so by all means, and I will reward you for your work."

"T'ank yo,' missus; yo' was always de lady to remember poor niggers."

"If you wish, you can take Old Ben with you. He is good at trailing,
too."

So it was arranged, and half an hour later Old Ben and Columbus
Washington were on their way. Both knew the mountains thoroughly, and
lost no time in getting to the spot where Jack had last been seen.

Then began a hunt for the trail, and this discovered, both went on once
more, little dreaming of the surprise in store for them.




CHAPTER XXV.

A REMARKABLE REVELATION.


Alarming news reached the Ruthven plantation that night. A large force
of Federal soldiers had loomed up in the vicinity, and the Confederate
army had been compelled to fall back to the mountains and to the valley
beyond.

"Our victory is swallowed up in defeat," said Marion, but even as she
spoke a soft look came into her eyes. Perhaps, if the Yankees were
coming again, she would see Harry Powell once more. Even though she did
not wish to acknowledge it to herself, Marion thought much of her
dashing cousin.

"What a man he is, compared with cowardly St. John!" she said to
herself. And then she prayed to Heaven that Harry might come out of the
war unharmed.

Marion's wish was gratified so far as seeing Harry Powell was concerned,
for the young surgeon dashed up on horseback early in the morning.

"I could not keep away," he said, after shaking hands with Mrs. Ruthven
and his cousin. "I heard that the fight was fierce in this neighborhood,
and I wanted to learn if you had suffered."

"We had a cannon ball go through the sitting room," answered Mrs.
Ruthven.

"And was anybody hurt?"

"One of the wounded soldiers was hit. He has now a high fever in
consequence."

"Thank God the cannon ball did not hit you or Marion!" ejaculated Harry
Powell, and gave Marion a look that made the girl blush deeply.
"Somebody said the Ruthven place had been on fire."

"That was at St. John's place," answered Marion. "But the fire was put
out before great damage was done."

"I am happy to see that you were not hurt, Harry," said Mrs. Ruthven.
"You must have been in peril many times."

"I was in peril, aunt, and I did not escape wholly. I was wounded in the
shoulder, although the hurt is of small consequence."

"I am glad that you escaped," cried Marion. And she gave him a look that
meant a good deal.

"Poor Colonel Stanton was not so fortunate," went on the young surgeon.
"He was shot through the breast, and now lies between life and death."

"Jack saw him shot, from a distance," said Mrs. Ruthven.

"Did he? And where is Jack now?"

"He has disappeared," and the lady of the plantation gave her nephew
some of the particulars.

Harry was invited into the house, and he remained to lunch, in the
meantime telling of the general progress of the war.

"Frankly, I wish it was at an end," he said. "I hate to see one section
of our glorious country fighting the other. It is not right."

During the talk it developed that Colonel Stanton was lying at a house
about half a mile distant, up the bay road.

"He acts very queerly," said Harry Powell, "just as if his wound had
affected his mind."

"Can we do anything for him?" asked Mrs. Ruthven.

"I do not know of anything now. But perhaps I'll think of something
later, aunt. I do not wish the colonel to suffer any more than is
necessary. He is a thorough gentleman."

"I feel you are right, Harry. He has given me an entirely different idea
of Yankees from what I had before," returned Mrs. Ruthven warmly.

The lady of the plantation became deeply interested in the wounded
colonel's case, and when the young surgeon went away she had one of the
negroes of the place hitch up a horse to the carriage and drive her over
to where the wounded officer lay.

The colonel was in something of a fever, and hardly recognized her. For
a long time he kept muttering to himself, but she could not catch his
words.

"The ship is doomed!" he cried suddenly. "We are going to pieces on the
rocks!" And then he began to speak of the army and of the terrible
battle through which he had gone.

"What can he mean by saying the ship is doomed?" was the question which
Mrs. Ruthven asked herself. "Can it be that he was once in a shipwreck?"

For a long while after this the colonel lay silent. Then he opened his
eyes and stared around wildly.

"All drowned, you say?" he exclaimed. "No! no! Laura must be saved! Save
my wife--never mind me! How high the waves are running! Where is the
child? Captain, why don't you put out to sea? Don't you see the rebels?
They are luring us to the coast! See, that rebel is stealing my child,
my darling Jack! Ha! we have struck, and I am drifting. Laura, where are
you? Save Jack! Look, look, they are retreating! The battle is won! Oh,
what a storm--can nothing be saved?" And then the poor man sank back,
completely exhausted.

Mrs. Ruthven drank in the spoken words like one in a dream. What was
this the wounded officer was saying? Something about a storm, about a
wife Laura, and a child named Jack!

"Can it be possible that he is speaking of our boy Jack?" she asked
herself, and then looked at the colonel's face more closely than ever.
The resemblance was more than striking, it was perfect. Give Jack that
heavy mustache and those wrinkles, and the faces would be exactly alike.

"He must be Jack's father!" she went on. "How wonderful! But what does
this mean? Why did he not claim Jack long ago?"

For over an hour she sat by the colonel's side, but he made no further
efforts to speak. In the meantime a surgeon came in to attend to the
officer's wound.

"If you can have him taken to my house, I will see to it that he has the
best of care," said Mrs. Ruthven.

"Why, are you not a Southern woman, madam?" questioned the surgeon, in
pardonable surprise.

"I am, but I know Colonel Stanton, and do not wish to see him suffer any
more than is necessary."

"He is a friend?"

"Something of a friend, yes."

"And who are you, if I may ask?"

"I am Mrs. Alice Ruthven, owner of the plantation half a mile from here.
Dr. Harry Powell, whom you may know, is my nephew."

"I know Dr. Powell well, and if he says it is all right, I'll have
Colonel Stanton removed to your home without delay."

"When will you see Dr. Powell?"

"To-day. This is not a nice place, and I would like to see the colonel
have better quarters."

A little later Mrs. Ruthven left and drove home with all speed.

"Marion, I have wonderful news!" she exclaimed, on entering the room
where the girl sat making bandages for the wounded soldiers.

"What is it, mamma; is Jack found?"

"No, but I am almost sure that I have found Jack's father?"

"Oh, mamma! Of course you don't mean that horrid Dr. Mackey?"

"No, I mean Colonel Stanton."

"Mamma!" And Marion leaped up, scattering the bandages in all
directions.

"Did you ever notice how much Jack and the colonel resembled each
other?"

"I did."

"The colonel is in a fever, and while I was there he cried out about a
shipwreck, and asked that his wife Laura and his son Jack be saved."

"Didn't you always think Jack's mother was named Laura?"

"I did--although I wasn't sure."

"But why didn't he come to claim Jack?"

"That's the mystery. I have asked that the colonel be brought here, and
as soon as he is well enough to stand being questioned I am going to
learn the truth of the matter."

"I hope he is Jack's father," murmured Marion. "But if so, what of Dr.
Mackey?"

"That's another mystery."

"He must know something of the colonel's past."

"Undoubtedly."

"I wonder if the two ever met in this vicinity?"

"There is no telling. I am impatient to question the colonel. But of
course nothing can be done until he is better and in his right mind."

That evening there was the rattle of wagon-wheels on the gravel road
leading up to the Ruthven mansion, and, looking out, Marion and her
mother saw an ambulance approaching. The colonel was inside, and they
hastened to prepare a bedroom for his accommodation.

"Is he better?" asked Mrs. Ruthven of the surgeon in charge.

"A trifle," was the answer. "What he needs is rest and quiet. He has a
strong constitution, and that is in his favor."

It did not take long to transfer Colonel Stanton to the bedchamber
prepared for his reception, and once he was in the house Mrs. Ruthven
did all in her power to make him comfortable. The ride had somewhat
exhausted the officer, and he slept heavily until far into the next
morning.




CHAPTER XXVI.

DR. MACKEY SHOWS HIS HAND.


"Well, what do these fellows intend to do with me, anyway?"

It was Jack who asked himself the question, as he sat up, after quite a
long sleep.

He was a close prisoner in a little cabin far up the mountain side. His
hands were bound tightly behind him and were made fast to a heavy wooden
stake driven into the hard mud flooring.

Night had come and gone, and all of the Confederates had left him. Now
it was almost night again.

"If they would only give me something to eat and to drink," he went on.
He was very dry, and his stomach was empty.

Half an hour later a footstep sounded outside, and Dr. Mackey appeared,
carrying a knapsack filled with provisions, and a canteen of water.

"Sorry I had to keep you waiting. Jack," he said, as he set the articles
down and proceeded to liberate our hero. "But I had the whole affair to
smooth over, and I had also to get Gendron out of the muss," and he
smiled grimly.

"Dr. Mackey, why do you treat me in this fashion?" demanded Jack.

"Because I want you to come to your senses and understand that I am your
father."

"Do you think you are treating me as a father should?"

"A son who will not obey must be made to obey. Here, I have brought you
something to eat and to drink. Fall to and make the most of it."

It would have been foolish to refuse the invitation, and our hero began
to eat without delay. The surgeon watched him curiously.

"Jack, don't you think you are acting the part of a fool?" said the man
presently.

"No, I do not."

"I offer you a name, a good home, and your share of a large fortune, and
yet you turn your back on me and my offers."

"Have you a large fortune coming to me?"

"There is a large fortune coming to both of us. You shall have your full
share of it--providing you will do as I wish."

"And what do you wish?"

"Well, in the first place, I wish you to let the world know that you are
fully satisfied that I am your father."

"And after that?"

"After that I will resign my commission as a surgeon in the Confederate
army and take the necessary steps to claim the fortune which awaits us."

"Why haven't you claimed the fortune before?"

"Because I had to prove that my wife had been drowned, and had also to
prove that you were either alive or dead. Had you been dead, I could
have taken the fortune for my own. But you are not dead, and so I am
willing you shall have your share."

"Where is this fortune?"

"Never mind about that now. I will give you my word that, if all goes
well, you shall have your full share."

"And how much will that be?"

"Not less than fifty or sixty thousand dollars. The whole fortune is
worth over a hundred thousand dollars."

It must be confessed that our hero was staggered for a moment. The sum
was certainly a large one--a good deal more than the Ruthven plantation
was worth.

"It's a lot of money," he said, at last.

"Indeed it is, my boy. We can be happy on that amount for the rest of
our lives."

"But you haven't proved to me that you are my father," went on Jack
abruptly.

The crafty face of the surgeon fell, and he bit his lip.

"What more proof do you require?" he said coldly. "Do you suppose I
would wish to divide that fortune with a stranger?"

"I presume not, nor would I wish to divide any fortune that was coming
to me with a stranger."

"Ha! what do you mean?" gasped the medical man.

"I mean just this: That fortune may be coming to me, and you may be
trying to gain possession of it by palming yourself off as my father."

The shot told, and Dr. Mackey staggered back and turned pale.

"Jack, you think you are smart, but you don't know what you are saying,"
he stormed.

"Perhaps I do, Dr. Mackey. One thing I do know--you are not to be
trusted."

"What? This to my face?"

"You took the part of Gendron, when you knew he was nothing but a
guerrilla and a horse-thief."

"I know nothing of the kind. Gendron has a good record behind him. He
was shot, and that may have hurt his brain."

"I don't believe that fairy tale. To my mind, you sided with him because
you were afraid he would expose you."

"Boy, you are growing more bold. Don't you realize that you are in my
power?"

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are--absolutely in my power. And you have got to do as I wish,
or you'll take the consequences."

As Dr. Mackey spoke, he began to walk up and down the cabin nervously.

"What do you mean by my taking the consequences?"

"You'll find that out later."

"Would you kill me?"

"I would make you mind me--as a son should."

"I would rather do without the fortune than have you for a father, Dr.
Mackey."

"Well, there is no love lost between us, when it comes to that, boy."

"Then you are willing to admit that you care more for the fortune than
you do for me?"

"Why shouldn't I--after the way you have acted toward me? No father
wishes a son who hates him."

"I will agree with you there," answered Jack slowly.

"If you don't wish to live with me, well and good--after we have our
money. You can take your share and I'll take mine--and that will be the
end of it."

"And you will let me return to the Ruthven plantation, if I wish?"

"Yes. But not until everything is settled."

"And what must I do to help settle it?"

"You must sign a paper acknowledging me as your father, and must bear
witness to the fact of your being wrecked on this shore, and that your
mother is dead. We will have to get Old Ben for another witness."

"And after that?"

"After that I will take the next step."

"You will not tell me more now?"

"No. I don't know whether I can trust you or not."

"But why this secrecy, if everything is aboveboard?"

"As I explained to Mrs. Ruthven, some distant relatives hold the fortune
now, and if they learn of what I am doing they will at once take steps
to head my claim off. I wish to spring a surprise on them."

"But if the claim is a just one, and half the property is coming to me,
you do not suppose I am going to tell them in advance of what you intend
to do."

"Boy, you do not understand such matters--you are not old enough,"
growled the surgeon. "Once more, and for the last time, will you do as I
wish you to?"

"I will not promise yet."

"Then you shall remain here, a prisoner."

"For how long?"

"Until you come to your senses and agree to do as I wish."

A few words more passed, and then Dr. Mackey made our hero a prisoner
again, and took up the canteen and the knapsack.

"You may have to remain alone for a long time," he said, on departing.
"But if you get lonely and hungry, remember it is your own fault."

"I think you are a brute!" cried Jack after him. Then he listened and
heard the surgeon's footsteps receding rapidly. Soon all became quiet.

Hour after hour went by, and nobody came near our hero. It was indeed
lonely, and as the time passed his heart sank within him.

Then Jack heard the faint patter of footsteps over the dry leaves
surrounding the cabin. The sounds came closer.

"Perhaps it's a dog," he thought. "I hope it is one from our plantation,
on the hunt for me."

At last a shadow fell across the open cabin doorway and the figure of a
strange creature came slowly into view. At the sight Jack could not
suppress a scream. The visitor was a mountain wild cat!




CHAPTER XXVII.

COLONEL STANTON'S TALE.


Two days after being brought to the plantation Colonel Stanton's fever
went down, and the surgeon who came to attend him pronounced the officer
much better.

"But he must remain where he is for some time," said the medical man.

"He can remain as long as he pleases," declared Mrs. Ruthven. "I have no
wish to hurry his departure."

She was anxious to learn the truth concerning the colonel's past, yet
realized that she must move with caution, otherwise he might be thrown
into another fever.

"Colonel Stanton," she said, seating herself at his side, "were you ever
in the neighborhood before--I mean some ten or eleven years ago?"

At this question Colonel Stanton became immediately interested, and his
wide-open eyes showed it.

"I do not know if I was in this neighborhood," he answered slowly.

"You do not know? Surely you must remember where you were at the time I
mention."

"The time you speak about was a very bitter one to me, madam," was his
slow answer.

"And you do not wish to speak about it?" she said softly, seeing the
pain in his face.

"I have spoken to nobody about it for years, madam. Yet I would not mind
speaking to you--you are so kind to me. During the time you mention I
took an ocean voyage which was very disastrous to me and mine. The ship
went down with all on board, including my wife and child."

"Did the ship go down on this coast?"

"She struck somewhere along the coast; where, I am not exactly sure."

"May I ask the name of the vessel?"

"She was the _Nautilus_."

Mrs. Ruthven's breast began to heave. "It must be true!" she murmured.

"What must be true, madam?"

"The _Nautilus_ was wrecked on our coast here, not over half a mile
from this plantation."

"You are sure of this?"

"I am. The wreck is still on the rocks in the bay."

"And were you living here at the time?"

"I was, and I know all about the wreck, and so does Old Ben, the negro
who has the boathouse on the shore."

The wounded officer's interest increased.

"I would like to visit that wreck some time, if it is still intact," he
said. "I left some valuable papers in a secret closet. It is possible
they are still on board."

"Do you know who was saved from the wreck?"

"Saved? No one was saved."

"You are mistaken--a lady and her child were saved. The lady died two
days later, but the child still lives."

"What was the name of that lady? Tell me, quick?" gasped the officer,
and tried to sit up, but fell back through weakness.

"Do not excite yourself, Colonel Stanton, I beg of you!" pleaded Mrs.
Ruthven, in alarm, fearful of the patient's agitation.

"But tell me the name of that lady--and was the child a boy?"

"I do not know the name of the lady, for she was badly hurt and could
not give it. The boy's name was Jack."

"Jack! My child's name was Jack. And you say he still lives?"

"He does. The child is our Jack, for my husband and I adopted him."

"Your Jack? That fine, manly fellow? Oh, Mrs. Ruthven, send him to me at
once!"

"I cannot do that just now, Colonel Stanton."

"If only we can prove he is my son! Have you nothing belonging to the
lady?"

"Yes, I have her clothing, also the little boy's, and some jewelry."

"Bring them to me," and now the colonel sank back, too weak to say more.

As much agitated as her patient, Mrs. Ruthven hurried from the room, and
presently returned with the clothing, the lace handkerchief, and the
wedding ring.

"They were my darling Laura's!" murmured Colonel Stanton, as he gazed at
the things. "And this was little Jack's dress. Mrs. Ruthven, beyond a
doubt Jack is my son!"

"I suspected as much two days ago, Colonel Stanton. When you had a fever
you spoke of a shipwreck and of the loss of your wife and son Jack. Yes,
Jack must be your son. But how were you saved?"

"It is a strange tale, madam. As you know, my wife and my son were
washed ashore. I thought them drowned. Hours after I found myself, I
scarcely know how, clinging to a spar, tossing up and down on the dreary
waste of waters, far out to sea."

"And you were picked up?"

"Not for twenty-four hours or more. Then those on a passing ship espied
me, and sent out a small boat to my rescue. I can remember how they
hauled me in, and how I shrieked with joy, and then fell to the deck
unconscious."

"The exposure was too much for you."

"Yes, and it not only affected my body, but likewise my mind, for it is
only in a dim, uncertain way that I remember being taken on a voyage of
several weeks' duration, and then finding myself in a strange-looking
hospital. There I remained for two months, and was then transferred to
an insane asylum."

"An insane asylum! Colonel Stanton, how you must have suffered!" cried
Mrs. Ruthven sympathetically.

"That was not the worst of it, madam. At the asylum I was treated most
brutally by a good-for-nothing physician, who did his best to pry into
my family affairs."

"And who was that physician, Colonel Stanton? Excuse my curiosity, but I
have a strong motive for wanting to know."

"He was a tall, wicked-looking fellow, who went by the name of
Mackenzie, although I have since learned that his real name is Mackwell
or Mackey."

"Dr. Mackey! He has been here."

"Here?"

"Exactly, and he claims Jack as his son!"

"The vile impostor!" cried the wounded officer wrathfully. "He is a
villain to his very finger tips. It is to him that I owe my long term in
the insane asylum. Where is he now?"

"That I cannot tell you. I refused to give Jack up, for I did not like
the looks of the man, and moreover Jack did not wish to go with him. I
told him he would have to prove his claim at court."

"That was right. If I can get my hands on him, I will either shoot him
or place him behind the bars."

"He certainly deserves arrest for plotting to take Jack."

"I presume he is scheming to obtain the property which is rightfully
mine. During my lucid intervals at the asylum he got me to tell him my
story. There was property in England coming to me, and also an estate in
Virginia coming to my wife. The trip on the ocean was taken to obtain
the property coming to Laura. He drew from me all the details he could,
and then drugged me, so that for a long time I knew scarcely anything of
what happened. When I regained my own mind, I learned that he had left
the asylum several weeks before, and departed for parts unknown."

"And were you kept at the asylum?"

"I was, for years, for this rascal had put me on the books as being
incurable, and subject to attacks of great violence."

"Of course he did this to obtain possession of the property."

"Undoubtedly."

"It is strange he did not put in an appearance before."

"You must remember he knew no more than I about the exact fate of the
_Nautilus_. How he found out the vessel was wrecked here I do not
know."

"He has paid the wreck a visit--Old Ben rowed him over to it!" cried
Mrs. Ruthven, struck with a sudden idea.

"Did he bring anything away with him?"

"Old Ben thought he brought with him a tin box."

"It must have been my box--the one I placed in the secret closet! I must
get it away from him. But tell me of Jack. When will he be back?"

"I--I cannot say, Colonel Stanton."

"Did you send him away on an errand?"

"I--I did not."

"But he is not here. Tell me, is he--is he missing--shot?"

"He is missing, yes. I do not believe he has been shot."

"It must be more of Dr. Mackey's work," muttered the wounded officer,
and then sank down. The conversation had exhausted him utterly, and it
was a long while before he spoke again.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

IN THE HANDS OF THE GUERRILLAS.


Our hero knew only too well how dangerous a wild cat can be, and as he
gazed at the beast looking in through the open doorway of the lonely
cabin his heart was filled with dread.

"A wild cat!" he muttered. "Scat! go away!" he yelled.

The sudden cry caused the beast to retreat a few steps, and for the
instant Jack breathed easier. But then the beast approached once more.

"Go away! scat!" he repeated, but now the wild cat stood its ground, its
eyes gleaming fiercely and its mouth half open, showing its sharp teeth.
It was tremendously hungry, and this had caused it to find its way to
the habitation.

"Go away, I say," repeated Jack, and then, as the wild cat took a
noiseless step forward, he let out a scream: "Help! Help!"

The wild cat now prepared to leap upon him. It crouched low, shaking its
short tail from side to side. The leap was about to be taken when, of a
sudden, bang! went a gun, and the beast rolled over on its side.

"A good shot, Ben!" came in the voice of Columbus Washington. "I rackon
ye killed him."

"Ben!" cried Jack, in great joy, as the face of the faithful old negro
showed itself at the doorway. "You came in the nick of time!"

"Dat's so," answered Old Ben, as he came forward and poked the wild cat
with his gun barrel. "Dead, are ye? Well, Old Ben will make suah," and
he hit the wild cat's skull a blow that crushed it completely.

"Ben, you saved my life," went on Jack joyfully. "I was certain I was
going to be chewed up."

"Wot fo' is yo' a prisoner yeah?" asked Columbus Washington, as he gazed
at Jack's bonds curiously.

"Dr. Mackey made me a prisoner."

"What, dat man!" ejaculated Old Ben.

"Yes, Ben; he had me taken from the stable, where I had gone to watch
that guerrilla."

"And where am de guerrilla?"

"Dr. Mackey helped him to escape."

The faithful old colored man shook his head doubtfully.

"Massah Jack, do yo' dun t'ink dat doctor am your fadder?" he asked.

"No, Ben; I think nothing of the kind."

"Neider do I. He is a-plottin' against yo'."

"That is what I think, Ben. If I could manage it, I would have him
arrested. Then we could get at the bottom of this affair."

Jack was speedily released, and the party of three left the lonely
mountain cabin and started across the country for the Ruthven
plantation.

"Yo' mudder will be tickled to see yo'," remarked Old Ben, as they
trudged along. "She was worried to death ober yo' absence."

"After this I will see to it that they don't get me again," replied our
hero.

Half a mile was covered when, on turning a point in the trail, they came
unexpectedly upon a company of Confederate guerrillas who were taking it
easy, lying in the grass.

"Hullo! who are you?" demanded one of the guerrillas as he leaped up and
drew up his gun.

"Friends!" answered Jack.

Just then he caught sight of the men who had marched him away from the
stable, and also of Pete Gendron, who was lying on some blankets in the
shade.

"Friends, are you!" cried one of the men who had marched him off. "Up
with your hands, sonny!"

There was no help for it, and Jack put up his hands, and his negro
companions did likewise.

"I reckon as how we cotched ye nicely," went on the man with the gun.
"Whar did ye come from--thet cabin up the mountain?"

"Yes."

"Whar is Dr. Mackey?"

"I do not know."

"Did he let ye go?"

"Of course he didn't let the boy go," growled Pete Gendron. "The niggers
must have released him."

"Is that true, sonny?"

"That is none of your business," answered Jack, not knowing what else to
say.

"Aint it, though? All right, ride yer high hoss, if yer want to. But
throw down them arms fust."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean all of yer are prisoners, thet's wot I mean," drawled the
guerrilla.

"You have no right to hold me up in this fashion."

"Ye forgit, sonny, thet might makes right in most cases. Come, hand over
them firearms."

Jack had been provided with a pistol by Old Ben, and this he was
compelled to surrender, and his companions were also disarmed. The
guerrillas numbered fully a score, so resistance would have been
foolhardy.

"What do you intend to do with me?" asked our hero, after he had been
made a prisoner by having his hands bound behind him.

"We'll hold ye till Dr. Mackey comes back."

"When will that be?"

"Can't say."

This ended the talk, and presently the guerrillas moved up the mountain
side to where there was a fair-sized cave.

They marched our hero into this cave, and tied him and his companions
fast to some jagged rocks in the rear.

A fire was started up and the outlaws--for the guerrillas were nothing
less--proceeded to make themselves comfortable by lying around,
drinking, smoking, and playing cards.

Gendron was not badly wounded, and sat up to look on at the
card-playing.

So the hours wore away. Toward night a scout went out to learn what the
armies were doing, and he did not come back until the next day.

Two days were spent by Jack and his companions in the cave. During that
time the guerrillas treated them brutally, and gave them hardly
sufficient food to keep them from starving.

Gendron was particularly bitter against Jack, and insulted our hero upon
every possible occasion.

"If I was the doctor I'd blow your head off, and get that money for
myself," he said once.

"What do you know about that money?" demanded Jack.

At this the guerrilla closed one eye suggestively.

"I know a whole lot, sonny."

"Then you know what a rascal Dr. Mackey is?

"I didn't allow as how he is a rascal, sonny."

"Well, he is, and you know it. I can't see how he puts up with a fellow
like you, though."

This was said to draw Gendron on, and it had the desired effect.

"He can't help himself," chuckled the guerrilla. "I know too much."

"What do you know."

"I know all about the doctor's private papers--the ones he carries in
the tin box."

"The papers about the property?"

"O' course."

"Those papers won't help him any," went on Jack, wondering what the
guerrilla would say next.

"Won't they? They'll prove that he is----. But never mind--you shan't
git nothin' out o' me," and then Gendron relapsed into sudden silence,
as though he realized that he had been talking too much.

On the afternoon of the next day Dr. Mackey appeared, accompanied by
another man, evidently an officer of the guerrillas. His face grew dark
as he gazed first at Jack and then at Old Ben and Columbus Washington.

"So you were going to help Jack to escape," he said harshly to the
negroes.

"Jack is my young mastah," replied Old Ben. "Why shouldn't I try to sabe
him?"

"You are the fellow who saved Jack years ago, when the shipwreck
occurred, I believe."

"I am, sah."

"Then I am glad I have you in my power," answered Dr. Mackey. "You may
prove useful to me."




CHAPTER XXIX.

THE ESCAPE FROM THE CAVE.


Dr. Mackey turned away to consult with the guerrillas, and Jack and his
companions were left to themselves for the best part of half an hour.

The surgeon was evidently much disturbed over something, and Jack caught
the words, "must leave the country," and "I will send the money," spoken
to the guerrilla captain.

"Can it be possible that he intends to leave the States?" mused our
hero. "Well, we can easily get along without him. But I would like to
know more of that fortune."

At length Dr. Mackey came to him and sat down by his side.

"So you thought to escape me, did you?" he began.

"Do you blame me?" questioned our hero, as coolly as he could.

"Not exactly. But I want to warn you that it won't pay to try to escape
again. I have given the soldiers orders to shoot you down, if you
attempt it."

"In that case they must be outlaws, not soldiers, Dr. Mackey."

"They know how to obey orders."

"Again I demand to know what you are going to do with me."

"If you wish to know so much, I will tell you. I am going to take you
out of the country."

"To where?"

"That you will learn after we are on shipboard."

"Then you intend to take me away from America?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to take me to Europe?"

"As I said before, you'll learn your destination when you are on
shipboard."

"Supposing I won't go with you?"

"If you won't go peaceably, I'll have to use force, that's all."

"You mean you'll drug me, or something like that?"

"Never mind the details. You'll go with me, and that ends it. Moreover,
you'll do just as I want you to."

"When do you intend to take me away?"

"That will depend upon circumstances. Probably to-morrow night, or the
next day."

"What of my companions?"

"Old Ben shall go with us."

"And Columbus?"

"Is that the nigger's name?"

"Yes. Columbus Washington."

"The guerrillas will take care of him."

"Do you mean to say they will shoot him?"

"What if they do? Niggers don't count in this world."

"I think you are a monster, Dr. Mackey!" exclaimed our hero, in horror.
"To kill a negro is as much murder as to kill anyone else."

"I won't discuss the subject. The question is, will you go along
peacefully with me?"

"I will not. You have no right to abduct me in this fashion."

"I have a right to do as I please with my own son."

"Again I say I am not your son. Do you know what I think? I think you
are nothing but a swindler--a rascal who wishes to use me as a tool, in
order to get hold of some fortune coming to me or to somebody else."

Dr. Mackey glared at Jack for a moment, then leaped forward and struck
our hero a cruel blow in the face.

"That for your impudence!" he cried wrathfully. "After this, keep a
civil tongue in your head."

The blow made Jack's blood boil, but he was helpless to resent it. "You
are a coward, to hit me when I am tied like this," he said. "But some
day, Dr. Mackey, I may be able to square accounts, and then you had
better beware."

One of the guerrillas now came forward to consult with the surgeon, and
Jack was left with the other prisoners, to meditate over what had been
said and done.

"He's de wust rascal wot I eber seen," whispered Old Ben
sympathetically. "Wot a pity he wasn't shot down in de fust battle wot
he eber got into!"

"He wants to take us both out of the country, Ben."

"Wot, away from ole South Carolina?"

"Yes--on a trip on the ocean."

"I don't want to go, Massah Jack."

"No more do I; but how can we help ourselves?"

"I wish dis niggah could git free, Massah Jack."

"We must try our best to escape to-night. If we don't do it to-night, I
reckon our last chance will be gone."

"Ise willin' ter do all I kin," answered Old Ben, and the other negro
said the same.

With the setting of the sun over the mountains a strong breeze sprang
up, and presently the sky was obscured by heavy clouds. Dr. Mackey had
gone off half an hour before.

"We're in fer a heavy storm," Jack heard one of the guerrillas say.
"It's a good thing we can crawl into the cave when it comes."

"If they come in here our chances of escape will be slim," thought our
hero.

The approaching storm made it very dark in the cave, and during this
time he worked with energy at his bonds.

At last he was free, and without making any noise he rolled over and
released Old Ben and Columbus Washington.

Suddenly there was a shout from outside.

A guerrilla on guard had discovered a man on the trail, with two horses
loaded with store goods.

"Here's a chance fer a haul!" was the cry.

The guerrillas ran outside, and soon the majority of them were making
after the traveler.

Only two were left on guard, and one of these was more than half
overcome by the liquor he had imbibed.

"Now is our chance!" whispered Jack, as he tiptoed his way to the cave
entrance. "Ben, you and I will pounce upon that man with the gun.
Columbus, you silence the fellow sitting on the rock. We must not let
them cry for aid."

The negroes understood the plan, and in a moment more the party of three
were upon the guerrillas. While Jack seized the gun of the one, Old Ben
caught him from behind and placed a large hand over his mouth.

"Silence, on your life!" said Jack, and leveled the gun at the rascal's
head. The man understood and, when allowed to breathe, said not a word.

To capture the half tipsy sentinel was likewise easy, and after both
were disarmed they were ordered to enter the cave.

"If you make the least outcry we'll come back and shoot you," said Jack.

Then he motioned to the two negroes, and all three set off on a run down
the mountain side. They heard a rifle shot to the right, and
consequently moved to the left.

The storm now burst over the mountains in all of its fury, with vivid
flashes of lightning and sharp cracks of thunder. As they proceeded they
heard the distant falling of one tree or another, as the giants of the
forest were laid low by the elements.

"I dun rackon da won't follow us in dis yeah storm," remarked Old Ben,
as they stopped after a while, to catch their breath. "Da will be fo'
gittin' back to de cabe an' stayin' dar."

"I hope that traveler escaped them," answered Jack. "But those gun-shots
sounded dubious."

"De gorillas ought all to be hung!" came from Columbus Washington. "Da
aint no sodgers, no matter if da do w'ar a uniform."

"They are outlaws, pure and simple," answered Jack. "But come, we must
go on. Ben, how far are we from home, do you calculate?"

"Six or seben miles, Massah Jack."

"Then we have a good, stiff walk before us."

"Do yo' t'ink yo' can walk dat far, Massah Jack, in dis awful storm?"

"I can, unless the rain sets in harder. I am anxious to get back, you
know."

"I don't blame yo' fo' dat, Massah Jack. De folks will be mighty glad to
see yo', too," answered Old Ben.

On they went through the darkness, Old Ben following the trail with the
keenness of a sleuth-hound. But it was far from a pleasant journey, as
Jack soon discovered, as he stumbled along over dirt and rocks and
through the dripping bushes. He was soaked to the skin, and the rawness
of the air caused him to shiver.

The downpour was now extra heavy, and they had to come to a halt under
some trees, in order to get their breath again. The wind was blowing
strongly and it was directly in their faces.

"How many miles have we made, Ben?" asked Jack.

"Not more dan t'ree, Massah Jack?"

"Then we have nearly four still to cover."

"Yes, Massah Jack, an' wery hard roads, too, ober Hallack's hill."

"If there was a cabin handy, I would go in for a rest of an hour or two.
The storm may let up."

"Da is a cabin down de trail, on de bend."

"Then let us stop there."

So it was arranged, and soon they gained the cabin, which was deserted,
the owner having joined the soldiers a year before, and his wife and
children being with some relatives in the town.

It was easy to get into the cabin, and once inside they started to make
themselves as comfortable as possible.

But they had not been in the place over half an hour when voices outside
filled them with fresh alarm.




CHAPTER XXX.

BROUGHT TO BAY.


"Somebody is coming!" whispered Jack excitedly. "I wonder if it is the
guerrillas?"

"If da come, de jig am up!" groaned Old Ben.

"Let us hide upstairs," returned our hero. "Quick!"

There was no time to say more, and all three ran for the ladder leading
to the loft of the cabin, which was but a story and a half high. Jack
was the first up, and the negroes quickly followed, and then all lay low
on the flooring, hardly daring to breathe.

In a moment more two men entered the cabin, shaking the water from their
rubber cloaks as they did so. The two men were Dr. Mackey and St. John
Ruthven.

"What a beastly night!" exclaimed St. John with a shiver. "When I left
home to meet you I never expected such a storm as this. If I had, I
shouldn't have come."

"I didn't look for such a rain myself," returned Dr. Mackey, throwing
off his cloak. "Anybody around?"

"Don't seem to be, although there are muddy footprints on the floor."

The two gazed around, but Jack and his companions were wise enough to
keep out of sight, and apparently satisfied that the cabin was deserted,
Dr. Mackey flung himself on a bench and St. John did likewise.

"You said you wished to see me on important business," observed the
spendthrift.

"I do," was the reply. "I wish to help both you and myself."

"In what way."

"In several ways, Mr. Ruthven. In the first place, you are aware that I
claim Jack as my son."

"I know that."

"I am very anxious to establish my claim to the boy."

"I don't see how I can help you, Dr. Mackey, although I am glad enough
to have you claim Jack."

"You ought to help me, for it will be helping yourself as well. Your
aunt thinks a great deal of Jack. If he is allowed to remain at the
plantation she may take it into her head to leave him half of her
property."

"I know that, too."

"The property ought to go to that girl and to you. With Jack out of the
way you will be pretty certain of your share."

"But I don't understand your game, Dr. Mackey. Why do you want Jack, if
he doesn't care for you?"

"I love the boy, in spite of his actions. Besides, he must come with me
in order that I may establish our joint right to a fortune which awaits
us."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" questioned St. John, after a pause,
during which Jack waited with bated breath for what might follow.

"Jack was picked up from a shipwreck nearly eleven years ago. He and his
mother were taken to your aunt's home, and it was from this home that
Jack's mother, my wife, was buried."

"Well?"

"I am quite certain that your aunt is keeping all of the things which
were taken from my wife's person at the time of her death, and also the
clothing Jack wore when he was rescued. I wish to obtain possession of
those things, or, failing that, I want to get a minute description of
them."

"Do you want me to get the things for you?"

"If you can."

"But my aunt may object to giving them up."

At this the face of Dr. Mackey fell.

"I'm afraid you don't quite understand me, Mr. Ruthven. I don't want
your aunt to know anything about it."

"Oh!" St. John's face became a study. "You--er--you wish me to get the
things on the sly?"

"Yes. You must remember they belong to me. But if you tell Mrs. Ruthven
she will be sure to raise a big fuss, and that is what I wish to avoid."

"I don't see how I can get the things?"

"Can't you get your aunt or your cousin to show them to you? Then you
can watch where they are put, and the rest ought to be easy."

"I'm afraid my aunt is very careful of the things. I have heard her say
as much, to my cousin Marion."

"Well, you ought to take a little risk. Remember, it is to your interest
to help me in establishing my claim to Jack."

"I'll do what I can," replied St. John, after a moment's consideration.

"I would like to get the things as soon as possible."

"I'll go over to my aunt's plantation the first thing in the morning.
But she may not want to listen to me just now. She is extra busy, you
know."

"With those wounded Confederate soldiers?"

"Not only with those, but she also has a Federal officer there--brought
in a few days ago."

"A Federal officer? Does she sympathize with the North?"

"She does to some extent."

"Who is the fellow?"

"A Colonel Stanton."

At the mention of that name Dr. Mackey leaped up in alarm.

"What! that man--in her house!" he gasped.

"Do you know Colonel Stanton?"

"I--that is--I know of him. Is he badly wounded?"

"I think he is."

"I hope he dies then. He is--a--a--very bad customer to meet."

"I can't understand why my aunt makes so much of him."

"Tell me, has this Colonel Stanton met Jack?"

"Yes, they met some time ago, when the Yankees first came to this
neighborhood."

"Ah!" Dr. Mackey drew a long breath. "I wonder what Jack thought of the
colonel?"

"He likes the Yankee very much."

"Humph! Well, there is no accounting for tastes." Dr. Mackey pulled
himself together with an effort. "If you see this Colonel Stanton don't
tell him about me, or repeat anything I have said, will you?"

"I don't want to see the Yankee. I haven't any use for any of them."

"Colonel Stanton ought to be arrested as a spy. I know for a fact that
he once entered our lines and reported our movements to his superiors.
It would be a feather in your cap if you could have him arrested by the
Confederate authorities."

"By Jove! do you really think that?" asked St. John, with renewed
interest.

"I do."

"Then I'll report the case without delay. I thought he was something of
a sneak the first time I saw him."

"If the South would hang him as a spy it would be a good job done."

"Would you be willing to appear against him?" asked St. John anxiously.

"Well--er--no, but I can bring two other men to appear."

"Then I'll surely have him arrested."

"And what about those things?"

"I will get them, if I possibly can."

A loud clap of thunder interrupted the conversation at this point, and
when it was renewed the topic was not of special interest to Jack.

But our hero had heard enough to make him very thoughtful. Why had Dr.
Mackey been so startled to learn that Colonel Stanton was at the Ruthven
plantation, and why had he been so anxious to know if he and the colonel
had met?

"Here's a fresh mystery," he told himself. "I must unravel it if I can."

"I am going to return home now," said St. John presently, when the storm
seemed to be clearing away. "If I don't get back, my mother will be
wondering what has become of me."

"All right," answered the doctor. "But let me hear from you by to-morrow
night, sure."

"I will."

"And don't mention my name to Colonel Stanton."

"But if I have him arrested you will furnish those witnesses to the fact
that he is a spy?"

"I will, rest assured on the point."

A little later St. John hurried off in the darkness. Dr. Mackey watched
him go, and then began to pace the floor nervously.

Jack touched Old Ben on the shoulder.

"Wot am it, Massah Jack?" whispered the faithful old negro.

"Ben, we must make the surgeon a prisoner."

"All right, Ise ready to do my share."

"I am going to jump down on his back. You follow me with the gun."

"I will, Massah Jack."

The surgeon continued to pace the floor of the cabin, and, watching his
chance, Jack crawled to the edge of the loft opening.

Just as Dr. Mackey swung around on his heel our hero gave a nimble leap
and landed squarely on his shoulders, sending the surgeon to his knees.

"Hi, what's this?" spluttered the rascal, and tried to throw Jack off.
But our hero clung as fast as grim death.