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PAGE 2

The Bushwhacker’s Gratitude
by [?]

“Receiving no response to my repeated knockings at the door, I pushed it open and entered. I had not recognized the cabin and did not know until I saw Case Haffner sitting on a stool before the great mud-chinked fire-place, that it was his. The man’s face was buried in his hands, and he did not look up at my entrance, nor in any way betray a consciousness of my presence. As I glanced about the rudely-furnished room in search of Abner, my eye fell upon a bed on which lay the motionless form of the boy. The light was dim, and fancying him to be asleep, I called him by name.

“At this the man by the fire sprang to his feet, and glaring at me like a wild beast, cried out with a terrible oath that his son was dead, and for me to be gone before he killed me for intruding on his misery. Instead of obeying him I stepped to the bedside. The boy was to all appearance lifeless, but disregarding the father’s protest, and making a careful examination of the body, I became convinced that the vital spark had not yet fled. He had been stricken with one of the quick fevers of that country and had apparently succumbed to it. With a slight medical knowledge gained in the army, I saw that there was still a chance of saving him. Caesar was at once dispatched to fetch my traveling medicine case, while I heated a kettle of water. Case Haffner meantime regarding my movements with an apathetic indifference. To make a long story short, I succeeded before morning in restoring the boy to life and a healthful sleep. At the end of a week, during which I visited him daily, his recovery was assured.

“In all this time, though the father watched my every movement with a catlike intentness, he never spoke to me if he could help it nor did he express the slightest gratitude for the service I had rendered him. Thus, when the boy was so far recovered that I had no longer an excuse for visiting the Haffners’ cabin, I was apparently as far from gaining their friendship or confidence as I had been before the night of the storm.

“This state of affairs continued unchanged when at the end of three months from my arrival in that place I found my business there nearly concluded. I had established the validity of the claims I had been sent to investigate, had reported upon them, and had been ordered to settle them with the money that would be forwarded to me for that purpose. At the same time I imagined that all this business had been conducted with such secrecy as to be unsuspected by a human being beside myself and my principals in the matter. Thus thinking, I went alone, and without a feeling of insecurity, to the nearest railway station, where I expected to receive the money. It did not arrive on that day; but instead I found a cipher dispatch stating that it would be sent a week later. Accepting the situation with as good grace as possible, I purchased some provisions, placed them in the canvas bag that I had provided for the money and returned to my temporary forest home.

“Late that night I was awakened from a sound sleep by a knock at the door of my room. In answer to my inquiry of ‘Who’s there?’ came a request in the voice of my negro man, that I would give him some medicine to relieve ‘de colic misery dat was like to kill him.’ As he had made similar requests, with which I had complied, several times before, I unsuspiciously opened the door.

“The candle that I had just lighted gave me a glimpse of Caesar, with ashen face and the muzzle of a revolver pressed against his head. At the same moment a pistol was leveled at my own face and I was seized and bound by two masked men. In vain did I demand the meaning of this outrage. No answer was given, and I was led outside, while a hasty but thorough search was made of every portion of the cabin. It was, of course, a fruitless one, and after a while the two men who made it rejoined the one who was guarding me.