CHAPTER XX.

HIDDEN IN THE CAVE.

He was placed on the floor of the wagon, face downward. As the wagon started it went with a jolt which thrust his face against a rough board and cut his nose and cheek. More jerks did a series of bruises on his forehead, his chin and his nose. By almost superhuman effort he managed to roll over on his side and then on his back.

By the time this was accomplished they had traveled down a dark road quite a distance. It was so dark Renfro could not see three feet ahead of his face at first. But his eyes soon got accustomed to the darkness. And little by little, he began to recognize the tops of the trees and by the feeling of surroundings to know that they were on the road which ran off East Washington.

Instinct, more than anything else, told him that they turned off at the second lane of the first on the Hall place. The first one was only used by pedestrians. The second was for wagons, but it had been used so little that it was in a horrible condition. The jolting sensation was terrible. Renfro realized that his face would have been cut beyond recognition had he not managed to turn over.

They jolted close to trees, through a lot of low underbrush which ground against the wheels of the wagon and across a little bridge. The limbs on one low hanging tree struck his face and scratched it still more.

The silence, which the couple had maintained in town and along the road, was now broken. The old woman, whose voice was almost as gruff as her companion’s complained of the way he drove. He in turn offered to share the privilege with her if she so desired to seize it.

An imperative “whoa” stopped the horse, suddenly. The man clambered out, thrashed around the wagon, seemed to be tugging at a door. A squeaking of rusty hinges followed his efforts, and he called out gruffly, “Drive on in Maggie, and remember the log on the east side. You hit it the last time.”

Renfro hoped that Maggie would not hit it this time. He held his breath while the wagon jolted thru the door into a dark, dilapidated building which was full of moldy odors. And there the horse stopped. He had to lie still while they unhitched the horse, all done in the darkness. They discussed the harness which seemed to be needing repairs from what they said.

The old man told Maggie to get some food at a bin, but she replied that she couldn’t find it by just feeling around. She wanted to light the lantern but he wouldn’t allow her. A trifle crossly she refused to even try to help farther. And he said surlily, “If you had them 15 years in the darkness I did, you’d be able to find anything by feel.”

After that she was more patient and seemed to help all she could with the finishing of the feeding. She came with the old man to the wagon, and stayed with him while he took out a knife and cut the strap which tied his legs.

“You walk with me, just as I tell you, or you’ll know what you’ll get,” the man’s surly voice was charged with a threat which Renfro knew he would not hesitate to keep.

So he meekly followed his directions and walked between the two of them. The old woman who seemed to have a more human disposition than the man, helped Renfro along by holding his arm. They went across decaying vegetable matter, through a door, close to a manger, and then into another room, smaller and close and possessing much more moldy odors than had the others.

There the old man lifted some sort of a door in the side of what seemed to be a banked part of the barn and they all stepped into a place so dark that Renfro could not see at all. While the old woman closed the door, her companion lighted a lantern.

For several minutes the light, though it was dim, blinded Renfro. Then his eyes gradually became accustomed to the light, and saw that they were in a narrow passage way. A few feet along it, and they came to some steps. They went down them--down, down, down, into an opening which seemed to be a cave. And there Renfro with his hands tied, and his mouth still bandaged was thrust into another and darker place and the door, which had been opened to allow him being pushed through, was shut again.

His first sensation was that he was on solid ground. Then his feet seemed to give away under him and he fell heavily, his head striking something sharp and hard. A quick pain, worse than any he had felt during the short ride, and then Renfro drifted into unconsciousness.

When he came to, it seemed that hours had passed, but it had really been only a period of some twenty minutes. He was lying on a pallet of mouldy smelling rugs and comforters. They were full of hard knots which sent shooting pains through his bruised body.

The room was not entirely dark now. There was a dim light and Renfro turned a little onto his side, saw that it came from a coal oil lantern, which emitted much more bad smelling smoke than it did light.

The bandage had been taken from his mouth. But the stout cords were still on his wrists, and others had again been tied around his ankles. They were tied in such a manner that if he lay perfectly still they were comfortable, but if he twisted or attempted to move, they cut into his flesh like circular knives.

But in spite of the pain caused by his moving, Renfro managed to twist himself until he could see the nature of the room in which he was imprisoned. It was cold and damp and mouldy. Odors like those coming from a musty cellar, in which vegetables had long been stored, were strong around him.

There was some one in the room but Renfro could not see who it was. Heavy, rapid breathing behind him--in the direction he felt sure was the door through which he had been thrown--proved that. He watched directly above him and to the side of the room he was facing.

And after a little looking he realized that it wasn’t a room at all but a cave in which he was a captive. The rough jagged wall and ceiling were of rock, from which hung stalactites now stained and discolored by the rain and smoke of fires, which had been kept burning in a rusty coal oil stove.

There was a fire in the stove now, and Renfro was getting some heat from it. Besides it and the pallet, on which he was lying, Renfro could see no other furniture in the room. The lantern was flat on the floor.

Renfro shivered. He was cold to the marrow of his bones. He shivered again and then a long, hard sneeze came out of his nose and throat. It was followed by another of the same, and then a whole series.

The person behind him stirred and came around the pallet until Renfro could see her--a swarthy, heavy set woman with a sour, disappointed visage and stooped, weary shoulders. Over her head she wore the odd colored scarf Renfro had seen twice on the street--first outside the little hot dog restaurant and next on East Washington Street.

She looked down at Renfro and he saw that her eyes were not half as hard and sour looking as her face. Her lips drawn in a straight line seemed to relax a little in their severity while she looked. And then she opened them and asked one short word, “Cold?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Renfro sneezed again.

With her free hand, the other was holding something under the scarf, she pulled the coal oil stove closer to his pallet and then she opened a door, slipped through it and closed it after her, and Renfro was left alone--but not for long. When the door opened again, it was the old man who entered this time, a heavy, horse blanket in his arms.

On his head was the hunting cap with the sharp, low hanging bill. He spread the blanket over Renfro, gruffly asked him if he wanted something to eat and, after receiving a negative answer, squatted on the floor and looked close at the boy.

And Renfro looked back at him. There was instant recognition on the part of both, the old man who had been in Captain Pete’s cabin and the boy who had burst in and handed him a sample copy of the Globe.

For quite a time they stared at each other and then the old man realized that his attempts to frighten Renfro had failed. He gave a short chuckle, which was more disagreeable than anything else, and then jerked off his cap.

And in the dim light to which Renfro’s eyes had grown accustomed, was plainly visible the remainder of the eyebrows, half of each of which had been left sticking to Judge Wier’s frozen window pane.