Fighting Byng: A Novel of Mystery, Intrigue and Adventure, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  Byng stared hard for a moment, then his snapping eyes kindled and hisface evidenced genuine delight as he recognized me. That his affectionhad endured there could be no doubt as he advanced with long, gracefulstrides to meet me. He grasped my hand with a tremendous squeeze ofheartiness and I am bound to confess that as he stood before me Icould see in the makings the refined Howard Byng--man of affairs.

  "Mr. Wood!" he began, fervently pressing my hand, "there is no livingperson I would rather see than you. How did you get here? How did youfind this jumping-off place? I can hardly believe it is you."

  "Howard"--I hesitated, feasting my eyes upon him--"it was indeedsomething of an accident that brought me here."

  "Well, suh, you are here and that's enough. I don't care how you gothere, but I swear by the great horn spoon that you are not going toget away from me. I have waited too long for this meeting. Your bed,board, and comfort are provided for indefinitely." His eyes glittered,as he looked me full in the face and restrained the pent-up enthusiasmof his natural Southern hospitality. Then, affectionately he took myarm and led me into his office, a big, cheerful room, something of alibrary, suggesting comfort and refinement.

  "For Heaven's sake, man, sit down and tell me all about it," said I,sinking into an inviting leather chair.

  "These cigars are made especially for me," he exclaimed like anoverjoyed boy as he passed the humidor, "but I can't say you'll like'em."

  "They are bound to be an improvement on the dog-leg twist you onceoffered me while we sat on the sled against the sap barrel," Isuggested with a laugh.

  "You remember that, too," said he, slapping his knee. "Well, suh, Ihave thought of it myself more'n a hundred times. Yes, suh, that allseems like many, many years ago, but I'll never forget it. You knowit's mighty strange, and if I hadn't been a dunce I would have guessedyou were around when I came out this mornin' and saw that strangeboat, the copper 'still,' and the demijohns full of moonshine. Myforeman told me where they cum from, but, of course, I nevah thoughtof you havin' anything to do with it. Strange, too, for I have sorterbeen thinking about you the last three or four days."

  "It's the old story--think hard and----"

  "Yes, suh, and, doggone it all, I knew you tole me you were going intothe revenue when you left me in Savannah. I've been in Washington twoor three times and tried to find you. I nevah once thought of you inconnection with this local matter. What a fool!" he exclaimed, hiseyes gloating upon me from his comfortable chair across the big flatdesk between us.

  He did not speak grammatically as yet, but there were signs ofimprovement, and the effort in that direction was apparent.

  "You know," he went on, delightedly, "there must have been somethingwrong with me. I wanted to find you the worst way, and I thought Ilooked around all right, when I went there--I mean to the revenueoffice in Washington. First a boy would ask me questions, then a man,then another man, and then about the time I thought I was going to getsomewhere they would tell me there was no such person there. Do yousuppose they thought I was a moonshiner just finished a long term, andwas gunnin' for the man who put me in?" he concluded, with a drylittle laugh.

  I had to explain that for our safety in private life operatives wereknown to everyone but the chiefs by a number--and sometimes by anothername. The office never divulges the real names, private addresses, orwhere we work. Here we were interrupted by the entrance of anold-time darkey.

  "Yes, Marse Howard," said he cheerfully, in answer to the button.

  "Uncle George," began Howard Byng, with his soul shining in his eyes,"a prodigal has returned. We ain't got any fatted calf to kill, but wehave got food, and plenty of it. Bring us something so that we may eatand make merry,--and then prepare the guest cabin. Didn't I tell youwhen we finished it that we would have use for it soon?" All this in afatherly manner toward the old servant.

  "Now, Mr. Wood, I've got you in a corner. First I want to know howlong you can stay with me. You show up just when I need you, andexcuses don't go."

  His cordiality was so real that I felt glad I had cleaned up my lastmatter for the "Excise" ahead of time and was not due to report to thenew division for several weeks. Indeed it seemed good to be able toacquiesce for I could readily see that his isolation intensified anotherwise normal desire for companionship. And there did appear to besomething on which he needed advice or a side light. He was asdelighted as a young boy when I said if I could establishcommunication with Washington I might stay on for several days.

  "Good--fine!" he exclaimed, and, slapping me on the back, arose tomove a reading lamp and clear the center of the desk for the food.

  "I finally got a long-distance wire in here and am open to the worldnow," said he happily. "Do you know you took a big chance leavingthose jugs of moonshine in that open boat? If I hadn't seen and put'em away you'd 'a' had none left and my works would have stopped.Niggers, and white men, too, for that matter, do love moonshine. I'veseen that boat pass here lots of times and wondered how long they'drun."

  "All I was thinking about was getting those men off my hands," Ireplied. Then I related, briefly, how I happened to find their"look-out" while in a stupor, and of my sensations when I imagined Isaw Howard himself inside the "still" house, and how, through luck, Ihad surprised and stunned them by using dynamite. He expressed greatwonder at my escape and showed intense eagerness to hear every littledetail of my experiences.

  "Well, suh, you have performed the well-nigh impossible. And that isbecause you went at it just right. To men living in these swamps,where you never hear anything louder than a bull frog, a rifle shot isa terrific report, but when you let loose a real noise, blow in thewhole side of their dug-out and let stumps roll in on them as you say,they couldn't help but give up. Those varmints have been here for along time. They are bad men. You know moonshiners ain't always badwhen you know 'em. That old jail down there was built before therevolution, an' they've got friends that hate the law. These peoplealong this river are two hundred years behind the times, justlike--just like I was when you found me in the turpentine woods, an' Iwould have been there yit if it wasn't for you. You know that!" heexclaimed. "An' you were right when you thought I might bemoonshinin'. How I kept out of it I don't know for I hated the law,too, then. They argue that whiskey was made a long time, a hundredyears or more, without tax, and ought to be free yit. And that feelingag'in' the law is fierce, and these people are awful spiteful whenthey're ag'in' anything. You can hardly understand it unless--unlessyou've been one of 'em, like I have."

  He was interrupted by the old black servant, who covered the desk withlinen on which he placed platters of cold meat, wild honey andbiscuits. Except for the slight vibration and hum of the big paperplant, I could easily have imagined myself lunching in the library ofa Fifth Avenue home.

  "Now," resumed Byng, after we had drawn up, "I used to like moonshine,but somehow I don't care for it any more. But this elderberryjuice--woods stuff, too," said he, pulling a cork from a bottle, "ismighty fine. No kick in it especially, but just as good, and I want totell you how near I came to being a moonshiner myself right where youfound your gang."

  "I am eager to hear it, Howard," said I laughingly, "and I won't turnit in at headquarters, either."

  "You know," said he, "when you left me there in Savannah, and yoursteamer got out of sight, I felt pretty bad. You taught me to read andwrite and gave me an idea about things outside. You were my friend.You may not know exactly how a Georgia Cracker sticks to his friends.Well, when I couldn't see you any more, I went over behind a pile ofcotton bales, laid down and began to beller just like a kid, or afool. Then it seemed to me that I wanted to die. The world had come toan end for me an' I didn't care a damn if I died on the spot. Some mencame along and said, 'See the Cracker with a cryin' jag.' Do you knowwhat a 'bellering jag' is? Well, when there is a funeral down herethere's usually plenty of moonshine. Some want to holler, some wantto shoot, and most of the wimmen get on a 'bellering jag.' I thoughtof that. Then I b
egan to wonder what I was blubberin' about anyhow.Certain it wasn't for you. Then it came into my fool head that I wasjest sorry and bellerin' for myself. Why should I be sorry for myself?I had two good legs, two good arms, and two good eyes. So I got up andwalked away. You told me what to do an' I was going to do it. Then Icame back here--not exactly here, but back to the old camp we had justleft. Finally I did find some land I could buy, not very much, but ithad an old turpentine 'still' on it, right here on this spot we arenow sitting. I built this building so my office would be where I hadmade my first experiment--just as you told me to."

  "Evidently you prospered from the jump," said I, looking about thebig, well-finished room.

  "No, suh, at first I didn't get anything. I was tired and mad. I camenear cussin' you for telling me to spend my money for nuthin'. Themoonshiners found I was all right, and offered to help me start, andseveral times I was just going to do it, but somehow I couldn't. Youmay not believe it, but when I was ready to go moonshinin', you juststood in front of me. I could feel you touch my arm, and point to theold turpentine still. You made me go ahead, an', after I worked andworked, thought and thought, I found out how to work it. I struck itright. I discovered the secret of makin' turpentine and rosin fromthese here stumps, and paper from what's left--and you stood righthere and laughed with me, and was as glad as I was. And nobody has yetfound out how I do it, and they ain't going to. I'm twenty years aheadof 'em. Sneaks come here to find out but I spot 'em quick and kick 'emout. I'll tell you the secret because you made me do it. Now, suh,jest tell me what it was that kept me from making moonshine, and mademe go ahead as I did. To-morrow, when it's light, I'll show it all toyou. It ain't much, but I've made friends in Savannah and New Yorkwhere I sell and buy my supplies. I have a nice little plant that'smaking money, and the moonshiners have gone to prison. That's enoughfur to-night. You had no sleep last night an' I'm going to put you tobed. Come on."

  As we parted at my cabin door Howard Byng put his long arms about meand gave me a tight squeeze.