the fifth string-第14章

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hunt　was　continued。　Wells　were　explored；

basements；　cellars　and　out…of…the…way

places　were　ransacked；　lumber　yards　and

coal　yards　were　gone　through　most　carefully。

In　fact；　not　a　foot　of　the　town　was

left　unsearched；　but　all　to　no　avail；　and

the　once　happy　home　of　the　Franklins

was　steeped　in　sorrow　and　despair。



The　morning　after　Lillian's　disappearance；

Mrs。　Foley　inquired　of　the　boys

in　the　neighborhood　if　they　had　seen

anything　of　her　son　Tom；　who；　she

declared；　had　been　gone　since　the

previous　morning。



From　Sandy　she　learned　that　Tom

had　taken　dinner　at　Gilbert's　the　day

before；　but　that　when　the　party　had

started　for　the　river　he　had　dropped

out；　claiming　he　was　too　down…hearted

to　join　in　the　pleasure。



‘‘That's　the　way　he　acted　at　home；''

said　the　widow；　‘‘and　it　seemed　to　me

it　was　almost　unnacheral　for　him　to

talk　against　his　father；　as　he　did。

However；　I'm　not　bothered　about　him；　for

he　comes　and　goes　just　as　he　pleases；

and　when　he　gets　good　and　ready　he'll

turn　up；　like　a　bad　penny。　I've　stopped

worryin'　about　him　years　an'　years　ago。''



‘‘If　I　see　Tom；''　volunteered　the　boy；

‘‘I'll　tell　him　yer　want　him；''and　he

hurried　away。



The　next　morning　Sandy　left　home

earlier　than　usual；　and　on　his　own　account

began　a　search　for　Lillian。　A　new　theory

had　taken　possession　of　him；　and　he

started　at　once　for　the　river。　At　the

magazine　gate　he　chatted　with　the　sentry

about　the　mysterious　disappearance；　and

passed　on。　When　he　reached　the　shore

half　a　mile　beyond；　he　was　surprised　to

find　that　the　padlock　on　the　door　of　the

shed　had　been　pried　off；　and　that　his

boat　was　missing。



Opening　the　door　he　saw　that　his

oars　and　blankets　were　gone；　and　he　began

to　feel　that　his　theory　might　lead　him

to　important　discoveries。　For　fully　five

minutes　he　stood　motionless；　and　gazed

into　the　river；　buried　deep　in　his　own

thoughts。　Then　he　soliloquized：　‘‘I

wonder　if　Lily's　been　stolen？　S'pose；

while　we've　been　searchin'　fer　her　high

an'　low；　Foley　an'　the　galoot　what

whacked　me　jest　took　the　little　girl　an'

carried　her　off　in　my　boat？　That　'ere

story　'bout　Dennis　Foley　buyin'　a　ticket

for　Philadelphy　struck　me　as　fishy　when

I　fust　heerd　it；　an'　now　I　don't　believe

it　a　t'all。　They　couldn't　git　through　the

magazine　gate　'thout　the　guards　seein'

them；　an'　whoever　took　my　boat　either

came　up　the　shore　or　down　the　shore。

'Tain't　likely　they　came　from　up　shore；

'cause　they　could　'a'　found　a　hundred

boats　'tween　here　an'　the　upper　bridge。''



Turning　around；　Sandy　started　down

the　beach　toward　the　cemetery。　He　was

studying　carefully　the　ground　beyond　the

point　of　high　tide；　and　in　a　few　moments

reached　the　ravine　where；　two　nights

before；　the　three　abductors　had　stopped；

upon　hearing　Colonel　Franklin　and　his

sailing　party　approach。



‘‘Well；　I'll　be　durned；''　he　exclaimed；

for　in　the　sand　before　his　very　eyes　was

the　impress　of　four　pairs　of　shoes。　Two

were　evidently　those　of　men；　one　small

enough　to　be　that　of　a　boy；　and　one　so　tiny

as　to　convince　him　it　was　that　of　a　child。



‘‘This　is　the　way　they　come；''　he　con…

tinued；　‘‘and　there　wuz　three　of　'em　in

the　gang　besides　the　little　one；　an'　I'm

sure　er　that。''



He　followed　the　footprints　until　he

reached　the　old　wharf。　Peering　through

the　rotten　timbers；　he　said：



‘‘That's　a　rum　ol'　hole。　I　don't

believe　Satan　hisself　would　go　in　there；

but　I'm　goin'；　an'　see　what　I　kin　see。''



Sandy　had　no　difficulty　in　entering　the

cave；　which　he　found　strewn　with　whisky

bottles；　pieces　of　bread　and　newly…picked

bones；　evidence　enough　that　some　one

had　been　there　but　a　short　time　before。

Penetrating　deeper　in　his　search；　he

made　a　find　of　the　utmost　importance。

Lying　at　one　side；　and　near　a　bed　of

rags；　was　an　envelop　addressed　to

Dennis　Foley；　and；　on　a　peg　which　had

been　driven　into　the　wall；　was　hanging

an　old　hat；　which　he　had　often　seen　on

Hildey's　head。



Elated　at　the　results　of　his　quest；　he

began　to　retrace　his　steps；　and　in　eager

haste　he　left　the　cave。　Picking　his　way

along　the　slimy　stones　under　the　wharf；

he　soon　neared　the　outlet　and　there　was

startled　by　the　most　significant　of　all

his　discoveries。　Right　before　him　lay

the　identical　hoop　which　he　had　given

the　lost　child　only　Christmas　Day；　and

which　bore　the　inscription；　‘‘From　Sandy

Coggles　to　Lillian　Franklin。''



Every　suspicion　now　was　confirmed；　and

he　was　sure　he　knew　the　culprits。　Taking

the　hoop；　he　returned　to　his　boat…

house　with　all　possible　speed；　and　leaping

into　his　skiff；　paddled　up　the　river；

his　eyes　scanning　the　marsh　lines　on

either　bank　of　the　channel。　Arriving　at

the　bridge；　he　learned　by　inquiry　from

the　tender　stationed　there　that　he　had

not　seen　the　Lillian　coming　up　stream

within　the　past　three　days。



‘‘But；''　explained　the　bridge…tender；

‘‘I'm　only　on　from　six　to　six　during

daylight；　and　of　course　if　anything

comes　through　at　night　I　wouldn't　know

about　it。　I'm　pretty　sure；　though；　there's

been　nothing　up　this　way　for　a　month

of　Sundays；　'cept　Buck　Wesley；　who

creeped　up　'bout　two　hours　ago；　following

a　gang　of　ducks　that　uses　right　over

there　above　Mayhew's　Meadows。　And

the　way　Buck's　been　shooting　for　the　last

hour；　he　must　be　having　a　time　and　no

mistake。''



‘‘Well；　so　long；''　called　Sandy。　‘‘I

guess　I'll　go　up　the　river　a　little　further

and　have　a　look。''　And　once　more　he

took　up　his　paddles。　As　he　came　abreast

of　the　Meadows　he　saw　Buck　Wesley

coming　out　of　the　creek　in　his　gunning

skiff。



‘‘Is　that　you；　Sandy？''　shouted　the　gunner。



‘‘That's　me；''　was　the　boy's　answer。



‘‘Come　over　here；　I　want　to　talk　to　you；''

requested　Buck。



When　Sandy　got　alongside　the　hunter's　boat；　he　asked：



‘‘Well；　Buck；　what's　the　trouble？''



‘‘No　trouble；　Sandy；　but　when　I　come

up　the　river　this　mornin'I　ain't　been

up　for　three　weeks；　it's　been　such　pore

weather　for　ducksI　seen　a　bunch　of

widgeon　go　down　right　over　here；　an'

as　I　skims　up　by　the　collard　patch　t'other

side　of　the　bridge；　I　noticed　a　boat　lyin'

in　the　mud；　and　when　I　gits　near　to　her；

I　knows　by　the　cut　of　her　jib　that　she's

yer　Lillian。''



‘‘My　Lillian？　Wher'd　yer　say　yer　seen　her？''

asked　Sandy　excitedly。



‘‘Why；　by　the　collard　patch；　not　fifty

yards　from　the　Causeway。　She　looked

like　she'd　drifted　on　the　marsh。　I　calc'lated

when　I　got　through　shootin'　that

I'd　pick　her　up　an'　take　her　down　to

yer　landin'。　The　oars　wuz　in；　an'　I

guess　she　must　'a'　strayed　from　the　shore；

through　somebody　fergettin'　to　tie　her　up。''



‘‘I'm　much　'bliged；　Buck；''　thanked

Sandy；　‘‘but　yer　needn't　bother。　I'll

bring　her　down；　an'　the　next　galoot　that

takes　her　an'　lets　her　git　away　from　him；

is　goin'　to　hear　from　me。''



Sandy　retraced　the　course　he　had　come；

and　after　turning　on　the　other　side　of

the　bridge；　had　no　trouble　in　finding

his　boat。　She　was　lying　on　a　sand…bar；

but　he　soon　succeeded　in　floating　her

and　bringing　her　ashore。



Safely　securing　the　skiff　and　the　boat；

he　began　another　search　along　the　beach；

and　almost　immediately　was　rewarded

by　finding　a　knot　of　blue　ribbon；　such　as

he　had　often　seen　Lillian　wear　in　her

hair。　Farther　along；　he　discovered　tracks

in　the　sand。　These　he　followed；　Indian

fashion；　up　the　embankment；　lost　trace

of　them　for　a　moment　on　the　hardened

surface　of　the　carriage　way；　but　speedily

picked　them　up　again　in　the　soft　soil

that　ran　downward　on　the　other　side。



Then；　it　was　easy　to　pursue　them　along

a　pathway　that　led　to　a　graveled　beach

where　a　dozen　or　more　skiffs　had　been

drawn　up　and　tied　to　stakes　for　the

winter。　From　here　on；　all　further　traces

were　obliterated。



Thoroughly　familiar　with　all　the　river

craft　belonging　there；　even　to　the　individual

ownership；　Sandy　noticed　at　once