"Oh,yes,there's another one,"spoke up William Streeter tersely."And I've read it--all but the scrawl at the end.There couldn't anybody read that!"Higgins laughed.
"Well,I'm free to confess 't is a sticker--that name,"he admitted."And it's the name we want,of course,to tell us who they are--since it seems the boy don't know,from what you said last night.I was in hopes,by this morning,you'd have found out more from him."Simeon Holly shook his head.
"'T was impossible."
"Gosh!I should say 't was,"cut in Perry Larson,with emphasis.
"An'queer ain't no name for it.One minute he'd be talkin'good common sense like anybody:an'the next he'd be chatterin'of coats made o'ice,an'birds an'squirrels an'babbling brooks.
He sure is dippy!Listen.He actually don't seem ter know the diff'rence between himself an'his fiddle.We was tryin'ter find out this mornin'what he could do,an'what he wanted ter do,when if he didn't up an'say that his father told him it didn't make so much diff'rence WHAT he did so long as he kept hisself in tune an'didn't strike false notes.Now,what do yer think o'that?"
"Yes,I,know"nodded Higgins musingly."There WAS something queer about them,and they weren't just ordinary tramps.Did Itell you?I overtook them last night away up on the Fairbanks road by the Taylor place,and I gave 'em a lift.I particularly noticed what a decent sort they were.They were clean and quiet-spoken,and their clothes were good,even if they were rough.Yet they didn't have any baggage but them fiddles.""But what was that second letter you mentioned?"asked Simeon Holly.
Higgins smiled oddly,and reached into his pocket.
"The letter?Oh,you're welcome to read the letter,"he said,as he handed over a bit of folded paper.
Simeon took it gingerly and examined it.
It was a leaf torn apparently from a note book.It was folded three times,and bore on the outside the superion "To whom it may concern."The handwriting was peculiar,irregular,and not very legible.But as near as it could be deciphered,the note ran thus:--Now that the time has come when I must give David back to the world,I have set out for that purpose.
But I am ill--very ill,and should Death have swifter feet than I,I must leave my task for others to complete.Deal gently with him.He knows only that which is good and beautiful.He knows nothing of sin nor evil.
Then followed the signature--a thing of scrawls and flourishes that conveyed no sort of meaning to Simeon Holly's puzzled eyes.
"Well?"prompted Higgins expectantly.
Simeon Holly shook his head.
"I can make little of it.It certainly is a most remarkable note.""Could you read the name?"
"No."
"Well,I couldn't.Neither could half a dozen others that's seen it.But where's the boy?Mebbe his note'll talk sense.""I'll go find him,"volunteered Larson."He must be somewheres 'round."But David was very evidently not "somewheres'round."At least he was not in the barn,the shed,the kitchen bedroom,nor anywhere else that Larson looked;and the man was just coming back with a crestfallen,perplexed frown,when Mrs.Holly hurried out on to the porch.
"Mr.Higgins,"she cried,in obvious excitement,"your wife has just telephoned that her sister Mollie has just telephoned HERthat that little tramp boy with the violin is at her house.""At Mollie's!"exclaimed Higgins."Why,that's a mile or more from here.""So that's where he is!"interposed Larson,hurrying forward.
"Doggone the little rascal!He must 'a'slipped away while we was eatin breakfast.""Yes.But,Simeon,--Mr.Higgins,--we hadn't ought to let him go like that,"appealed Mrs.Holly tremulously."Your wife said Mollie said she found him crying at the crossroads,because he didn't know which way to take.He said he was going back home.
He means to that wretched cabin on the mountain,you know;and we can't let him do that alone--a child like that!""Where is he now?"demanded Higgins.
"In Mollie's kitchen eating bread and milk;but she said she had an awful time getting him to eat.And she wants to know what to do with him.That's why she telephoned your wife.She thought you ought to know he was there.""Yes,of course.Well,tell her to tell him to come back.""Mollie said she tried to have him come back,but that he said,no,thank you,he'd rather not.He was going home where his father could find him if he should ever want him.Mr.Higgins,we--we CAN'T let him go off like that.Why,the child would die up there alone in those dreadful woods,even if he could get there in the first place--which I very much doubt.""Yes,of course,of course,"muttered Higgins,with a thoughtful frown."There's his letter,too.Say!"he added,brightening,"what'll you bet that letter won't fetch him?He seems to think the world and all of his daddy.Here,"he directed,turning to Mrs.Holly,"you tell my wife to tell--better yet,you telephone Mollie yourself,please,and tell her to tell the boy we've got a letter here for him from his father,and he can have it if he'll come back.".
"I will,I will,"called Mrs.Holly,over her shoulder,as she hurried into the house.In an unbelievably short time she was back,her face beaming.
"He's started,so soon,"she nodded."He's crazy with joy,Mollie said.He even left part of his breakfast,he was in such a hurry.
So I guess we'll see him all right."
"Oh,yes,we'll see him all right,"echoed Simeon Holly grimly.
"But that isn't telling what we'll do with him when we do see him.""Oh,well,maybe this letter of his will help us out on that,"suggested Higgins soothingly."Anyhow,even if it doesn't,I'm not worrying any.I guess some one will want him--a good healthy boy like that.""Did you find any money on the body?"asked Streeter.
