CHAPTER XXVI.

PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE

It did not take Jack and Mosey very long to reach the shore. They found Farmer Farrell, gun in hand, stalking up and down impatiently. He had ordered Corrigan into the row-boat, and was lecturing him and the hired man at the same time.

"You've been a mighty long while coming," he remarked, as the dim rays of the smoky lantern fell upon the young machinist's face.

"I couldn't help it," replied Jack, and he briefly related what had occurred to detain him so long.

They embarked at once. The young machinist set out to do the rowing, but was stopped by the farmer, who directed Tim, the hired man to take the oars.

"You're tired enough," said Farmer Farrell. "Besides, we must keep a close eye on these two, or they'll be up to their pesky tricks afore we know it."

Tim pulled a good stroke. He was anxious to get out of such dangerous company and be safe in his bed in the barn loft once more.

"Isn't there some way we can fix this matter up?" asked Corrigan, after a long period of thoughtful silence.

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.

"Why, buy ourselves off."

"No, sir, not a bit of it," returned the young machinist, decidedly.

Corrigan winced. The prospect of going to prison was not a particularly inviting one.

"Oi say, Jack, me b'y, if we give up yer model will ye be easy on us?" put in Mosey, who did not know that that precious bit of property had already been recovered.

"I have it already," replied Jack; "I don't intend to be any harder on you than you deserve," he continued. "You tried to take my friend's life as well as mine, and also to set fire to Mr. Gray's house, and by using the match-safe which belonged to me, cast suspicion on my character, which has not yet been cleared away."

"Who can prove I set foire to Felix Gray's place?" demanded the Irishman, blusteringly. His tongue was clearer than it had been, but his head was as muddled as ever.

"Perhaps I can."

"Ye can't, no how."

"Well, we'll see, and it will go hard with you unless you can prove otherwise."

"Oi didn't do it. It was Dennis's work," howled Mosey, breaking down completely. "Oi found the box and gave it ter him, and he kept it. Didn't he stale the model, too, and run away wid yer sister? Oi niver harmed a soul, save when I was in liquor," he whined.

"It's a lie!" shouted Corrigan, in a rage. Had he been free he would have struck down his confederate.

"It ain't, it's true, every worrud of it," responded Mosey, doggedly. "Ye always got me to do yer dirty worruk, and now yer want me to stand all der blame. But Oi won't do it. Oi'll turn Queen's evidence first."

"If you turn state's evidence you may save yourself a heap of trouble," put in Farmer Farrell.

"Oh, Oi'll do it, just mind me, if Oi don't," replied the Irishman, quickly. He was thoroughly cowed, and his one thought was how to best evade the clutches of the law.

"You mean dog!" interrupted Corrigan, bitterly. "You shall pay dearly for this;" and he grated his teeth together in rancor.

"I don't think you will be able to harm him for a good while," sagely remarked Farmer Farrell.

Corrigan became silent at once, and as each one was busy with his own thoughts, the rest of the trip was accomplished without further words.

On reaching the shore the party repaired at once to Farmer Farrell's place where Tim, glad to be home again, hitched up the team to the old family wagon.

"Is there a doctor anywhere near?" asked Jack; "I promised to send one over to the island."

"Dr. Melvin lives just up the road," replied the farmer. "We'll stop and tell him, and Tim can row him over. Do you hear, Tim?"

"Yes, sir," replied the farm hand. "To-morrow morning will do, I suppose."

"To-morrow morning!" repeated the farmer, in surprise. "No, indeed, right away. And if you can't get Dr. Melvin, go over to Dr. Dell's and take him straight to Pooler's cottage. Tell him that the man has a bullet in his shoulder."

Much as he disliked the job, the hired man did not dare to complain; so with a heavy sigh he set off on his errand, traveling through the dark as fast as his heavy boots would permit.

The family wagon contained two seats. Farmer Farrell took the front one, with Mosey beside him, while Jack, with Corrigan, sat in the rear, and then the horses were started on the road to Corney.

"We will stop at the old mill and get my model," said Jack, on the way.

At the old structure everything was dark and deserted.

"Say, Oi'll go along wid ye," said Mosey, as the young machinist dismounted from his seat. "There's something there Oi want to show ye."

Corrigan wished to interfere, but Jack, who believed that the Irishman was now really inclined to render assistance, would not let him.

"There are some papers that belong to Mr. Gray. Dennis stole them when the house was burning," said Mosey, when he and Jack were alone. "Oi can't read, but Dennis said they'd be worth money to us some day."

"Where are they?" asked Jack, with interest.

"Will you be aisy on me if Oi tell ye?" asked Mosey.

"Perhaps I will."

"Oi'll trust ye," replied Mosey. "They're up stairs, under the flure."

They ascended the stairs, and taking up a board that Mosey pointed out, Jack drew out a small, oblong packet.

"I can't read it now," said the young machinist. "Come along. If the contents are valuable I'll see that you get full credit for giving it up."

He put the packet in his pocket, and taking up the model, made the Irishman precede him down to the wagon. They were soon on the way again, the precious model safely stowed away in the front of the vehicle.

"I guess Mr. Benton will be rather surprised when he learns the true state of affairs," thought Jack to himself. "But his treatment of Deb was shameful, and I shall tell him so."

As they passed an old barn near the outskirts of the town all heard a loud cry, the scuffle of many feet, and then the door of the place burst open.

"Hello, what's all this?" exclaimed Jack. "Some one in trouble!"

Through the open doorway sprang a tall man. He was but partly dressed, and one side of his face bore a thick coating of black. He ran directly toward the road, and was followed by a dozen or more men wearing masks.

Seeing the wagon he made for it as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Save me, save me!" he gasped. "Get me away from these villains, and I will pay you well!" and in frantic haste he clambered over the wheel and into the front of the vehicle.

"What's the trouble!" asked Farmer Farrell in astonishment, while Jack took up the gun.

"They want to tar and feather me!" was the panting reply. "See they made a beginning;" and the excited individual held his face up to view.

"Mr. Gray!" ejaculated the young machinist.

He had not time to say more, for at that instant Corrigan, taking advantage of the excitement, hit Jack under the chin with his head, and then leaped to the ground. In doing so he fell, but picked himself up quickly, and hopped as fast as he could down the road.

A second later the wagon was surrounded by the masked men, all armed and gesticulating wildly.

"Give him up, Willington!" they yelled. "Give up Gray, or we'll tar and feather the lot of you!"