The Thorn in the Nest

She had gone back into the house, and as she moved here and there about her work, muttered discontentedly to herself,

"There's too many o' 'em. Bill, he won't like it. But I wonder if the right one's among 'em. Wish I knowed."

Hearing their voices outside again, she stepped to the door.

"Ye'll be a wantin' supper, won't ye?"

"Yes, let us have it as soon as you can, for we're tired and hungry."

"She mout put some pizen in de wittles, massa doctah, don't you tink?" whispered Zeb, close at Kenneth's ear, and shuddering as he spoke.

"If you think so, it might be as well to watch her," was the quiet half-amused answer.

"Dat I will, sah!" and Zeb bustled in and sat himself down between the table and the wide chimney, where he could have a full view of all the preparations for the coming meal.

The woman scowled at him and broadly hinted that he was in the way, but Zeb was obtuse and would not take a hint.

He watched her narrowly as she mixed corn-bread and put it to bake, as she made the rye coffee, and fried the ham and eggs. It would have been impossible for her to put a single ingredient into any of these without his knowledge.

Nor did he relax his scrutiny until he had eaten his own supper, after seeing the gentlemen safely through theirs.

"She mout put sumpin into de cups wen she pours de coffee," he had said to himself.

It did not escape him that she listened with a sort of concealed eagerness to every word that was said by her guests, and that she started slightly and looked earnestly at Dr. Clendenin the first time he was addressed by name in her hearing.

"What shall we call you, mother?" asked the hunter, lighting his pipe at her fire for an after supper smoke.

"'Taint perticlar, ye can just call me that, if ye like," she returned dryly.

"You don't live here alone," he remarked, glancing at a coat hanging on the wall. "Where's your man now?"

"Off a huntin'. Where's your woman?"

"Don't know, hain't found her yet," he laughed, taking the pipe between his lips and sauntering to the door, outside of which his companions were grouped.

The air there was slightly damp and chill, but far preferable to that within, which reeked with a mixture of smells of stale tobacco, garlic, boiled cabbage and filth combined.

It was growing dark.

The woman lighted a candle and set it on the table, muttering half aloud, as Zeb rose and pushed back his chair:

"I'm glad you're done at last."

Then she bustled about putting the food away and washing her dishes.

Johnson finished his pipe and proposed retiring to bed, as they wanted to make an early start in the morning.

A general assent was given and the woman was asked to show them where they were to sleep.

She vouchsafed no answer in words, but taking from the mantel a saucer filled with grease, in which a bit of rag was floating, she set it on the table, lighted one end of the rag, picked up the candle, and motioning them to follow her, ascended a step-ladder to the story above; letting fall drops of melted tallow here and there as she went.

Reaching the top of the ladder, they found themselves in an outer room that had the appearance of being used as a depository for every sort of rubbish.

Crossing this, their conductress opened a door leading into a smaller apartment, communicating, by an inner door, with still another.

There was a bed in each and a few other articles of furniture, all of the roughest kind. Dirty and untidy in the extreme, the rooms were by no means inviting to our travellers, but it was Hobson's choice, and they found no fault to the hostess.

"You white folks kin sleep in them two beds," she said, with a wave of her hand toward first one and then the other, "and the nigger, he kin lop down outside on them horse blankets, if he likes."

And setting the candle down on top of a chest of drawers, she stalked away without another word.

"Massa doctah, and all you gentlemens, please sahs, lemme stay in heyah," pleaded Zeb in an undertone of affright. "Dat woman she look at me down stairs 'sif she like to stick dat carvin' knife right froo me."

No one answered at the moment; they were all sending suspicious glances about the two rooms, and Zeb quietly closed and secured the door.

"Ki! massas, jus' look a heyah!" he cried in an excited whisper, and pointing with his finger.

"What is it?" they asked, turning to look.

Zeb sprang for the candle, and bringing it close showed a small hole in the door.

"A bullet hole, sure as you live," exclaimed Grey, who was nearest.

"And exactly opposite the bed," added Jones, stepping to it and beginning to throw back the covers.

In an instant they were all at his side, and there was a universal, half suppressed exclamation of horror and dismay, as a hard straw mattress, much stained with blood, was exposed to their view by the flickering light of the candle, which Zeb in his intense excitement had nearly dropped.

They looked at those tell-tale stains and then into each other's faces. A trifle pale at first most of them were, but calm and courageous.

Clendenin was the first to speak.

"We have evidently fallen into a den of thieves and murderers, but by the help of the Lord we shall escape their snares."

"Yes, we'll trust in God, boys, and keep our powder dry," said Grey.

"And Heaven send us a more peaceful end than some poor wretch has found," added Collins, pointing with a sympathetic sigh to the gory evidences.

"We must keep a sharp lookout, for we may depend that thar hunter'll return to his wife's embraces afore mornin'," remarked Johnson, grimly.

They at once set about making a thorough examination of the rooms, but found nothing more to arouse uneasiness, except the fact that the window of one opened out upon the roof of a shed, by means of which it was easily accessible from the ground.

Then their plans were quickly laid. They would all occupy that one room, and take turns in watching, two at a time; thus giving to each about two-thirds of the night for rest and sleep.

The arms were examined and every man's weapon laid close at his hand, ready for instant use.

These preparations completed, Grey turned to Kenneth, saying softly:

"Doc, we seem pretty well able to defend ourselves in case of attack, but it wouldn't hurt to ask help from a higher Power."