When Egypt Went Broke - Holman Day (intellectual books to read TXT) 📗

be surprised keeping the company he was in.
Vaniman was able to stay awake through most of the two watches. But the short man on sentry go was more vigilant than the tall man had been; two hours of sleep and the keen hope for the morrow conspired to keep the guard alert. In despair the young man loosed his hold on the hateful verities and slipped into slumber.
He was suddenly awakened by a pinching grip on his arm. He opened his eyes upon broad day and upon the face of the tall man. He was aware that the short man was shaking Wagg awake in the next bunk. "Two men coming up the side of the mountain; got a slant at 'em through the trees; they're after us!"
"Sho!" demurred Wagg. "They're only bird hunters."
"We're taking no chances on 'em being jailbird hunters! Are there any holes here in the rocks?"
"Plenty," stated Wagg. "And the three of you better hunt them holes, no matter who is coming."
The short man, the tall man, and Vaniman needed no urging on that point. They ran, crouching low, and scrambled out of sight among the ledges of the craggy peak of Devilbrow.
Wagg lighted his pipe and went out and sat on the bench beside the camp's door, and when the two early visitors came puffing up the hill and confronted him he was to all appearances enjoying the delights of a bland fall morning and the comfort of an unruffled conscience. He jumped to his feet and hailed one of the men with a great show of cordiality; the man was one of the deputy wardens of the state prison.
Mr. Wagg hopefully and guilelessly expressed the conviction that the officer had followed along into the wilderness in order to join in the process of recuperation.
The deputy asserted that Mr. Wagg was wrong to the extent of a damsite, or something of the sort, and reported some recent happenings at the state prison, Mr. Wagg listening with appropriate, shocked, official concern. He opined that it was a long shot, figuring that the convicts had fled back to the region of Levant. The warden agreed. "But the Old Man is bound to have us tip over every flat rock, Bart. He got a call-down for that accident--and this matter on top of it has made him sore. I'm up here this far because I got a line on you at Levant."
"You did, hey?" Mr. Wagg gazed off across the landscape, as if wondering how much of a trail he had left.
"You dropped 'recuperates' like a molting rooster drops feathers, Bart," averred the warden, jocosely. "That was my trail. Reckoned I'd come and tip you off so that you can do a little scouting for the good cause."
Mr. Wagg threw out his chest. "You can leave this hill section to me. Always on the job! That's my motto."
The deputy said he knew that, stated that he would probably spend a week along the highways and in the villages of the section, got a drink of water from a spring near at hand, and departed with his aide.
And after the two were far down the slope, Mr. Wagg called in his campmates with the caution of a hen partridge assembling the brood after the hunter has passed. "It means that we've got to stick close by this camp and mind our business for a week, at any rate," he said, after he had reported the conversation.
Vaniman could not keep the complacency out of his countenance. He caught the short man squinting at him with a peculiar expression. "It would be mighty dangerous for any one of us to go far from this camp," said the young man.
"It sure would!" agreed the convict, sententiously.
Vaniman was promptly conscious that his innocent air had not been convincing.
He became more fully aware of that fact when the tall man and the short man resumed guard duty that night, turn about. It was plain that they proposed to hang grimly to the token in their possession until the token could be cashed in for the coin.
The confinement behind prison bars had tested Vaniman's powers of endurance; this everlasting espionage by the men who had set themselves over him tried him still more bitterly. They lacked the sanction of the law which even an innocent man respects while he chafes. While that situation continued he was prevented from taking any step toward clearing up his tangled affairs. He could look down on the roofs of the village of Egypt and meditate savagely--and that was all. Vona had apprised him of Britt's plans regarding a mansion. He could see that structure was taking shape rapidly. Men swarmed over it like bees over a hive. He did not doubt the loyalty of the girl. But he was left to wonder how long her loyalty to the memory of a dead man would endure.
Day by day, through dragging hours, he suffered from the agonizing monotony of the camp. But the future offered only a somber prospect. After this respite in the insistence of the treasure seekers, he could expect only ugly determination when they dared to make a move in the matter. They had plenty of leisure for talk. They were already spending that money! Wagg was even more impatient than the others.
Though Vaniman had been cruelly tortured by thoughts of the injustice that had been visited on him, by his reflections that the Egyptians had shown him no consideration, he had nursed the hope that he might contrive to give them back their money after he had dragged from Britt the truth.
But at last, in his new spirit of loneliness, in the consciousness that no man's hand was offered to him in the way of help, he entered upon a new phase of resolution. He had gone into prison with youth's ingenuous belief that the truth would prevail. He had permitted a lie to aid in prying his way out, and now he was paltering with evasions and making no progress except toward more dangerous involvement. One afternoon sudden fury swept the props out from under caution.
He leaped up from the rock on which he had been sitting, pondering, the rumble of the conspirators' conversation serving as obbligato for the cry his soul was uttering. He was between them and the sunset sky.
"The truth!" he shouted.
The three men peered at him, shading their eyes. He seemed to tower with heroic stature. He came at them, shaking his fists over his head.
"You are thieves and renegades. I don't believe you know the truth when you hear it. But you're going to hear it."
He tackled Wagg first. He set the grip of both of his hands into the slack of the shoulders of the amazed guard's coat and yanked Wagg to his feet and shouted, with his nose barely an inch from Wagg's face, "I told you the truth at first. I said I didn't know where the money was. You gave me a chance to get out by a lie. I'm human. I took the chance."
He threw Wagg from him with a force that sent the man staggering; the guard stumbled over a rock and fell on his back.
He turned on the convicts. By his set-to with Wagg he had gained their full attention. "You low-lived scoundrels, do you know an honest man when you lay eyes on him? I declare that I am one. Dispute me, and I'll knock your teeth down your throats--guns or no guns. I don't know where the money is. I never touched that money. I didn't know what was in those sacks. If you were decent men, with any conception of an oath before God, I'd swear to the truth of what I say. I won't lower myself to make oath! I make the statement. And now let some of you--or all three of you--stand up in front of me and tell me that I'm lying. Come on! It's an open field!"
They did not stand up. Wagg merely sat up.
"Say something! Some one of you! Say something!" pleaded Vaniman through his set teeth.
The convicts kept their sitting. Vaniman went on adjuring them to stand up and say something. They showed no resentment when he called them names, and they indicated no relish for battle.
"Hold on a minute!" pleaded the short man. "You seem to have your mind well made up as to what we'd better not say. I may have to eat state-prison grub again, and I'll need my teeth. Won't you kindly drop a hint as to what would suit you in the line of talk?"
"You can tell me whether you think I'm handing you the truth or not."
"I think you are," agreed Bill, readily.
"So do I," asserted Tom.
"How about you, Wagg?" Vaniman demanded, resolved on clearing the matter up once for all.
But the lethargic Mr. Wagg was manifestly unable to turn his slow wits on the single track of the mind and start them off in the opposite direction.
"No matter about him now," said the short man. "Give his mind time. A toadstool grows fast after it gets started."
This meek surrender helped Vaniman to regain his poise. "If you're willing to take the truth from me, men, I'll meet you halfway. You have been frank and open with me. Men who pretend to be better than you, they have lied to me and about me. That's why I was sent to state prison."
"Tom and I couldn't do business like we do if we lied to folks of our kind. Didn't we cash in our word to the trusty? Being in the hole, as you are right now, you'll excuse me for saying that we consider you one of our kind."
"Thank you," returned the young man, accepting that statement at face value.
The short man lighted a cigarette and pondered for a few moments. "You didn't take the money. Tom and I believe what you say. Wagg will catch up with the procession later. All right, Vaniman! But seeing how anxious you were to get out and up here, it's likely that you have a pretty good idea as to who did take the money. If you need any help in squaring yourself, I'll call your attention to the fact that here are a couple of gents who have a little spare time on their hands."
Vaniman was then in no mood to balance the rights and the wrongs of the case. "I have started in on the basis of the whole truth, and I'm coming through, men. I'm following your lead. I was framed in that bank matter. There was a man who had the opportunity to exchange junk for that gold. He made that opportunity for himself by working on my good nature. The man is Tasper Britt, who was the president of that bank. He took the money. He knows where it is."
"Do you think he is the only one who knows?"
"Naturally, he wouldn't be passing the word around."
"You're a bank man--you had the run of the premises--you had a chance to know the general style of his ways! What do you guess he did with it?"
"I'm sticking to the truth--and what I actually know. I'm not guessing."
"Not even when you say he took the money?"
"I didn't see him take it. But he had a private entrance to the vault. Everybody was so determined to plaster the guilt on to me that no move was made against Britt on account of that back door of his. I was railroaded by perjurers--and Britt was the captain of 'em."
"There's a corner on 'most everything these days, but it's really too bad for a man like Britt to have a corner on