"Yes, Miss Porter, I will take care of him."

Katherine, without looking again at McNally, walked to the door and called for her trap. As she waited on the steps, a newsboy came running down the walk, crying:--

"Nine o'clock Extry! All 'bout M. & T. riot!"

Katherine stopped him and bought a paper. The black headings told the story tersely, but one item stood out with vivid distinctness. She read, "Harvey West Disappears--Supposed that He Was Kidnapped--His Followers Swear Vengeance--Rumored that He Is Hidden Near The Oakwood Club." For a moment the blood left her face, and her nerves tightened, but when the trap was pulled up she was herself, and the smile she gave the soldier in charge brought forth an earnest but amateurish salute.

Then Katherine drove home--it was her duty to go home. But, her duty done, she would drive straight to the Oakwood Club.

CHAPTER XX

HARVEY

Before the dawn broke on Thursday morning Harvey was a prisoner. It was so absurd, so ridiculously theatrical, that had he not been too tired to think clearly, his sense of humor would have been equal to the occasion; as it was, he was angry, baffled, desperate. While held in the thicket by Wilkins's gang he had caught a voice too like McNally's to be easily mistaken, and when McNally struck the match that showed him the papers, Harvey had with an effort flopped over on the leaves, bound as he was, and through the bushes had caught a glimpse of McNally's face and figure.

While the shooting and the uproar sounded from the cut Harvey was held in the woods, but before the second encounter his captors jerked him to his feet, tied his handkerchief across his eyes, and led him stumbling away.

In a few moments Harvey lost all sense of direction. He figured that he was still on the east side of the track, and in all probability was going southeast on the river road. For a short while he tried to keep the direction, but realizing that he might be turned without knowing it, he gave up and decided to rely upon a chance opportunity to escape.

Undoubtedly his guards were acting simply as agents, and it occurred to him that he might be able to influence them; but as his occasional attempts at conversation brought only profanity in reply, he fell back upon silence.

Through his thin bandage he could feel that the light was growing brighter. Then he was led from the road, splashing through a ditch and sprawling over another fence. He b.u.mped into a tree. The men jerked him roughly away and led him forward, twisting and stepping from side to side.

Occasionally his foot struck a fallen log. Evidently they were in a heavy wood.

At best their progress was very slow and was marked with numerous haltings and delays. Finally, about two hours after the start, Harvey was thrust through a doorway and a lock clicked behind him. He tore off the handkerchief and found himself in a small office, evidently deserted, for the rusted stove, the broken chair, and the floor were thickly coated with dust. There was one window, empty of gla.s.s and boarded up from the outside. He looked through a crack and saw the caved-in shaft house and the straggling waste heap of a worked-out mine. "Wonder how long they're going to try this game," he thought. He picked up the remains of a chair and tipping it over sat on the rounds.

Harvey was nearly done for. Aside from the strain of the week, and particularly of the night just ended, he was wet to the knees, and his head ached from a chance blow received during his brief struggle near the Sawyerville station. His eyelids drooped, and for fear of dropping off to sleep he rose and walked the floor. Gradually his head cleared. It occurred to him that McNally would have run the risk involved in kidnapping him only because it was very important he should be gotten out of the way. Therefore, he reasoned, it was equally important from his point of view that he remain decidedly in the way. He looked through the crack and saw three men standing a few yards from the window talking excitedly. Their voices were gradually rising.

"What you goin' to do with him?" asked one. "We can't keep him here."

"Well, it's only for a few days."

"But who's goin' to feed him?"

"Yes," said the third, "an' how about us?"

"Oh, you'll be all right," from the big man, who seemed to be the leader; "that's all fixed."

"Who's goin' to do it--McNally?"

"Ssh!" the leader looked around, and all three lowered their voices.

Finally they seemed to reach an agreement; for the first speaker turned and walked rapidly toward the woods, and the others took to patrolling the small building.

Again Harvey walked the floor. If he was to be of any service to Jim Weeks during what was left of the fight, it was absolutely necessary that he escape as soon as possible. In the course of his work as Jim's private secretary he had become fairly well acquainted with the details of his employer's many interests. Nearly all the mines along the M. & T. were owned or controlled by the capital which Jim represented, and Harvey knew the location of each of these. There was but one abandoned mine in the Sawyerville district, the Valley Shaft; it was about four miles from Sawyerville station and perhaps three or four from the Oakwood Club.

Therefore, he reasoned, if he once broke loose from this galling restraint, he would soon be in a position to communicate with Jim.

Outside, the big man stood directly before the window; his fellow could be heard walking to and fro in the rear of the building. Harvey looked about the room. There was nothing to serve as a weapon, except some part of the stove. He bent down and removed one of the small iron legs, taking care to make no noise. Then he examined the window. The boards were half-inch stuff, nailed on with little idea of security, probably because the office contained nothing worth stealing. He figured that it would be no difficult matter for a man of his weight and strength to force an exit. For the moment he forgot his weariness.

Accordingly he drew back across the room, and bracing for a second against the wall, he ran forward and threw himself at the boards. They gave way more easily than he had supposed, and a rapid effort landed him squarely on the leader, who had turned at the noise. The struggle was short. Each had received a few hard blows when the man jerked his right arm loose and reached back for his revolver.

Harvey took advantage of his open guard to strike a quick blow with the stove leg and brought the fellow to the ground. Harvey rolled him over, took the revolver from his pocket, and picked up his own hat. A noise from behind the building called to mind the other man, and he hurried forward.

The other was walking stealthily toward the shaft house.

"Say," called Harvey.

The man turned sullenly.

"Your friend there--he doesn't feel well," Harvey laughed nervously and gestured with the revolver; "you'd better look after him. I've got to go now." He paused to glance back at the big man, who was lying on one elbow and rubbing his head, then he turned and ran toward the woods.

Once on the way, however, Harvey's sudden nervous strength deserted him.

One of his opponent's blows had cut his scalp, and he was surprised to feel blood trickling down his face. He ran until his breath gave out, then he walked, struggling to overcome the dizziness that was coming on him.

After going some distance he found a bridle path, and soon saw the river road before him. The need of hurry urging him on, he left the path to cut across a meadow. With some difficulty he drew himself upon the fence, and paused for breath with one leg thrown over the top rail. Then he felt a wave of dizziness, and, his muscles relaxing, he pitched forward into the long gra.s.s.

Good nursing, proper food, and a brief rest were enough to pull together Porter's yielding nerves. There was some delay at first in getting a physician, and Katherine was obliged to wait for the greater part of an hour before the slowly driven carriage brought her father home.

Considerable time pa.s.sed before his improvement justified her in leaving the house, and then it was so near noon that she decided to wait until after lunch.

Once on the road behind Ned and Nick, and beside the erect groom, Katherine realized the delicacy of the situation. Up to this moment she had been acting frankly upon impulse. It was so clear to her mind that McNally had been instrumental in the kidnapping of Harvey, and the sudden emotion aroused by the whole affair had so overwhelmed her, that for the time her only thought had been to get to Harvey, to be near him and of some service to him. But Katherine's impulse on this occasion was not far in advance of her reason, and what had begun in a whirl of excitement was continued in a spirit of quiet persistence. To be sure, there was a moment of wavering, but even then she did not think seriously of turning back.

Anyway, there was nothing marked or unusual in frequent drives to the club during this crisp golfing weather.

It was after two o'clock when she reached the club. The links were dotted here and there with golfers, and the usual autumn quiet hung about the verandas and halls of the building, but in the office there was bustle and excitement. Katherine stood near the wide fireplace in the lower hall drawing off her gloves and looking through the office door. A man was telephoning, a big man with a quiet voice. In a moment he rang off and turned around. His face interested Katherine and she watched him as he talked to the steward; she could not help hearing the conversation.

"I've got to have another horse," the big man was saying. "I'll pay you whatever your time is worth. I want this whole county stirred up in half an hour."

"But, sir, I cannot leave the club. We are short of help as it is, and the caddies are busy."

"I've no time to talk. A man has been kidnapped and very likely injured.

You get a rig--any kind, a farm wagon, if the horses are good--and have it here in fifteen minutes. Figure your time at whatever you like and send the bill to me."

He handed a card to the steward, who looked at it with a slight start, and murmuring, "Certainly, Mr. Weeks," started down the hall. Katherine stopped him.

"What is it, Perry?"

"Jim--Mr. Weeks. He wants a horse."

"You may lend him my trap--And, Perry, say nothing of it." Without waiting for a reply, she went into the reading room, picked up a magazine, and, throwing open her jacket, sat on the broad window-seat. A moment later Ned and Nick were pulled up on the drive, Jim Weeks climbed in beside the groom, and they hurried down toward the bridge.

The magazine lay open in Katherine's lap. She rested an elbow on the window-sill and sat for a long time looking out across the valley. Not two weeks before this day she had stood on the veranda with Harvey, looking at the same picture through the haze of twilight. Then it had seemed like summer; now it was unmistakably autumn. Then the leaves were only beginning to yield to the touch of the waning year; now they were aflame and dropping--as she looked a whirl of them danced across the sloping lawn, the stragglers settling in the gra.s.s already marked by little dabs of red and russet brown. Farther off, in the valley, were corn-fields, now squares of yellow and bronze and gold. It was a glowing picture, but to Katherine it meant only that summer was dead, and she viewed it with vague regret.

The afternoon wore on, but Katherine took no account of it. At a little after four, when Jim Weeks drove up and entered the building, she was startled into looking at her watch. She heard the telephone bell ring, and realized that he was talking. Then he paced up and down the hall. She wanted to go out there and ask him about Harvey, whether he was found, or whether--she shuddered a little at the thought of injury--but a feeling of helplessness possessed her. She realized that the time was slipping rapidly away. Jim Weeks might go, and she would have learned nothing, would have done nothing. But she had not come altogether in vain. She recalled with half-defiant pride that Jim had used her horses.

"You are Miss Porter?"

Katherine started, and turned with a slow blush. Weeks stood gravely looking at her.