Chapter XXXIX: The Man Without a Soul

Uncle Jeb started, they all started in fact, but Ol’ Pop seemed oblivious of their evident surprise. Taking a fresh hold with his elbow he continued on, as though his recent statement was nothing extraordinary.

“Ter begin with,” he said, “I noticed as how Ollie took ter actin’ peculiar-like fer quite a spell back. He kept a-askin’ me if I wuz makin’ much money ’n if I saved much afore I run the Inn. I’d ketch him every so often lookin’ at me funny, but I didn’ let myself think much ’bout it. Then, I wuz taken with thet pesky red fever or whatever durn name they give it. Wa-al, when he hears the Doctor say I wuz gittin’ better ’n cud git out in a few days, I caught him a-lookin’ at me right nasty. After he gits supper he sits aroun’ agin eyein’ me, ’n it makes me feel so creepy, I go up ter my room ter git clean away frum him. I’m a-sittin’ in a rockin’ chair a-thinkin’ ’bout it and wonderin’ what in Sam Hill’s got in ter him. Thar I sit, rockin’ back ’n forth by the winder when I happens ter hear the door creak. I turn quick and the door is openin’ slowly, until finally it’s wide-open. Thar in the doorway stands Ollie, with thet silly grin what he’s hed on him lately. Not only hez he the grin, but also a gun, which he’s a-pointin’ at me, and a rope.

“Fer the minit I think he’s gone plumb crazy, but then I know as how I’m mistakin’ in thet, fer when he starts ter talk, it wuz as natcherell as the little bit he ever did talk.

“‘Ol’ Pop Burrows,’ sez Ollie, sounding like the cemetery bell the day thet Sheriff Biggs wuz popped off by Sly Pete Woozle, ‘I’m a-goin’ ter make my get away to-night!’

“‘Go ahead!’ I sez, ‘the better the sooner!’ I wuz thet chilly frum hearin’ the spooky voice on him, I gits all rattled as ter what I wuz talkin’.

“‘I intend to!’ he sez ag’in, jes’ like a funeral march. ‘But not afore yer tells me whar yer keeps yer swag!’

“‘Sufferin’ merskeeters!’ I sez. ‘What’s thet?’

“‘Yer dough,’ he answers.

“I tells him then, thet it wud hev ter be over my carcass, and he sez jes’ like one o’ them undertakers, thet over my carcass it would be, fer he intended sending me West.

“‘Feller,’ I sez, tryin’ ter be pleasin’ ’n thinkin’ it may calm his crazy head, ‘what foolish talk ’bout sendin’ me West. Why, I hain’t never been no place else all my life, ’n I got no call ter go now.’

“‘Oh, no, yer ain’t never been as fur West as I’ll send yer, if yer don’t cough up whar the boot is,’ he sez, wavin’ the gun at me.

“‘O-ho!’ I sez, thinkin’ I cud kill time. ‘So, it’s my poor shoes yure after now, eh? Are yer thet hard-hearted as ter leave me in my stockin’ feet? Wa-al, thar right on my feet, fer yuh ter take off if yer want. Thar’s one thing I kin say though ’n thet is, them soles on the shoes will wear a-hang sight better ’n yourn!’

“‘Yer can’t kid me, yuh ol’ Shylock!’ he sez, orderin’ me over ter the bed.

“Then, he sez as how I hez to git in or he’ll shoot me. I gits in shure enough ’n he ties me fast ter the bed with the rope. After thet he puts the kivvers over me jes as though it wuz cold weather. He starts shootin’ the gun ter the ceilin’ ’n tells me he gives me the hull o’ five minits ter tell him whar I hide my money. I let four o’ the minits go by ’n ez he’s a-gettin’ ready ter aim, I tells him ez it’s up on the Precipice, the haunted one, off o’ Eagle Pass, hid in the holler underneath.”

Uncle Jeb straightened perceptibly, likewise Westy and Artie. Ol’ Pop continued without noticing the surprise they had shown.

“He asks me whar’bouts in the holler ’n I sez the holler is so small he cudn’t miss it. I sez thet, thinkin’ he’d go and maybe some help wud come in ther meantime frum somewhar. He leaves me then, tied in bed, ’n warns me thet if he doesn’t find it he’ll kill me when he comes back.

“Wa-al, he went away ’n afore he goes what duz he do but bar all the shutters ’n lock the winders and doors. It seems like he’s gone all night ’n I git thet sleepy, I must o’ dozed a little. Bye ’n bye, I wake ’n thar he is with the gun ’n madder ’n a hatter. He tells me then thet he’s set fire ter my stable ’n soaked everything around with coal-oil. He then sez jes like ez if he wuz doin’ me a big favor, thet he intends ter let me burn along with the rest, unless I tell him jes whar’bouts in the holler the money is. At thet minit, I hear the hosses, stomping and whinnying like babies ’n settin’ up a terrible fuss. Thet’s the only thing what made me tell the rascally scoundrel. Jes for the sake o’ them poor hosses.”

“I ask him wud he save the hosses shure, if I tell him ’n he sez yes. But instead o’ thet he laughs after I tell and sez as how he hez no intention o’ savin’ the hosses ner me neither. Laughin’ jes like a maniac, he takes a handkerchief outer his pocket ’n a bottle ’n when he pours the stuff outer it he sez, ‘Here’s how, yuh ol’ miser!’ Thet’s the last I remember ’n ever want to ’bout Ollie Baxter. Yuh kin bet he’s found the money ’n we’ll never see him ag’in!”

“I don’t know about that!” Westy interposed smilingly. The sun was rising in the east and the day was beginning to take on her mantle of light in real earnest now.

“What do yer mean, son?” asked poor Ol’ Pop sadly.

“Yes, what do you mean, Wes?” Artie and Uncle Jeb both asked curiously.

“He got into the hollow sure enough and I guess he found the money all right, but he’ll never get out unless one of us goes there to get him out!” Westy said mysteriously.

“Why?” interrogated the voices in unison.

“Because I cut the rope!”