The Swindler's Treasure (26 page)

T
orn by fear, Libby stood there. Then she remembered Pa standing up to the swindler in spite of great cost. She remembered Micah Parker giving himself away so his son could escape.

Libby drew a deep breath.
What is money—even our steamboat—compared to Jordan's freedom and perhaps his life?

The light was gone now, but when Libby started walking, she saw it again. Faster and faster Libby hurried in the darkness, trying to catch up. Then Peter passed onto a road. Sometimes he was harder to see, but still the light bobbed back and forth.

As the ground leveled out, Libby started to run. Staying on the grass, she tried to move without sound. Then she realized Peter was passing close to the house where Allan Pinkerton said he would be.
Can I find Mr. Pinkerton and not lose Peter?

By the time Libby reached the house, she was out of breath. The moment she pounded on the door, Mr. Pinkerton answered.

“Come!” Libby cried. “We need help!”

For one moment Mr. Pinkerton stepped back into the house. When he returned, a man in a policeman's uniform followed him.

Once more Libby broke into a run. A block farther on, she saw Peter again. A block beyond that, he started to slow down. As Libby drew close to Peter, she understood why. A short distance ahead of him, a man carried a lantern—a man whose broad back looked like that of the swindler. With him walked a boy who seemed to be Jordan.

When the boy started to follow the man up the steps of a house, Libby cried out, “Jordan!”

Instantly Mr. Pinkerton and the policeman stepped behind a large pine tree. As the swindler turned, his gaze took in Peter and Libby.

“What are you doing here?” Dexter demanded.

“Jordan!” Libby called again. “Don't believe what he's telling you!”

With her words Jordan moved away from the swindler. When Dexter tried to grab his arm, Jordan leaped out of reach and hurried over to Libby and Peter.

For one instant the swindler stared at all of them. As if knowing he was outnumbered, his eyes filled with hate. “Go! All of you!”

Without another word he opened the front door, stepped into the house, and slammed the door behind him.

“He said my daddy got hurt running away,” Jordan told Libby and Peter. “He said he'd take me to him. It's not true? My daddy ain't here?”

“I don't think so,” Libby said. “I think it was Dexter's way to get you to follow him. Is that why you went with him?”

“I thought maybe he was lying.” Jordan's shoulders slumped with discouragement. He kicked a stone on the street, then looked up. “You think the swindler wants the reward on my head?”

In that instant Libby realized something. “Dexter gave up too easily!”

As Jordan stared at her, Libby's thoughts tumbled on.
Does that mean Dexter doesn't have slave catchers to help? Or is he trading the hope of Jordan's reward for the bigger treasure he buried? If Jordan kicked up a fuss, the swindler wouldn't be able to leave town with his treasure
.

Suddenly Libby broke into a run. Slipping from tree to tree, she moved close to the house and crouched down. As she crept along the side wall, she heard the back door open, then close. Moments later she saw the dark hulk of a body pass through the yard toward a garden gate. When the gate squeaked, Libby caught the glint of moonlight upon metal.
Was the swindler carrying a shovel?

Turning, Libby saw with relief that Peter was right behind her.
So! Once again he guessed what the swindler was doing!

Behind Peter were Jordan, Mr. Pinkerton, and the policeman. By the time Libby followed Dexter through the yard and the gate, he was already out of sight. Libby gulped with panic. She had all she could do not to race ahead until she once again saw the swindler. Then she remembered.
I don't need to see him. I know where he's going
.

When Dexter started climbing a hill, his dark shape moved into sight for a minute or two. Then he once again disappeared.

Libby and the others walked faster now. Peter's lantern was no longer lit. In the darkness he reached out and took Libby's elbow. Just knowing he was there made her feel better.

Passing through the ravines, all of them moved swiftly but without sound. By the time they reached the large rock near the hiding place, Libby heard the clink of metal against metal. Hiding behind thick bushes, she and the others knelt down and watched.

Soon Dexter finished shoveling earth from the hole. Down on his knees he lifted the small chest. Setting it aside, he shoveled dirt back into the hole and smoothed it out. Then he hid the shovel beneath some bushes.

When Dexter went back to pick up the chest, Peter moved out from where he hid.

“You again!” The man glared at Peter. “What are you doing here?”

For an instant Peter shrank back. Yet Libby knew he had not heard the swindler's words. Instead, the angry expression on Dexter's face made it clear what he was saying.

Shaking a fist, Dexter started toward Peter. Just then Allan Pinkerton and the policeman stepped out. Looking at Peter, the detective motioned toward Dexter. Lifting his shoulders as if in a question, Mr. Pinkerton seemed to ask,
You know this man? How?

“From Galena,” Peter answered. “I lived at his house.”

Libby stared at Peter. “You
lived
at his house? That's how you know him?”

But Peter was watching the swindler. As though to help Mr. Pinkerton ask questions, he pulled out his slate. Strong now, even in the way he stood, Peter looked directly at Dexter. “You were trying to turn me into a thief like you.”

Suddenly Dexter rushed forward. Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Peter's slate and slung it away. As it crashed against the trunk of a tree, the slate shattered into many tiny pieces.

As Dexter hurried back to the treasure, Mr. Pinkerton commanded, “Stop!” With a few quick steps, he caught up to Dexter and grabbed his arms. The policeman snapped handcuffs around the swindler's wrists.

Jordan took one handle of the chest and Peter the other. Hardly daring to hope that their search for the stolen money had ended, Libby walked with the boys and Mr. Pinkerton and his friend to the police station. When Dexter was searched, the policeman found a small key that fit the chest.

With Edward Dexter in a cell and the policeman standing nearby, Mr. Pinkerton spoke to Libby and Jordan. “Now tell me again what you think might be in this chest.”

When Libby told him the amount of money stolen from Pa, Jordan gave the amount from his church. “Reverend Freeman told me there are ink blotches on about ten of the bills.”

Picking up the key, Mr. Pinkerton handed it to Jordan. His hand shook with excitement as he turned the key in the lock and opened the chest. Inside were two separate bags filled with money.

When the policeman finished counting the money in the first bag, it came to the exact amount Libby had told him. When he finished with the second bag, he winked at Jordan. “To the dollar,” he said.

Jordan spread out the bills on the table. On some of the corners were ink blotches.

With Peter's slate broken, Libby snatched up a piece of paper and a pen from a nearby desk. Quickly she wrote to Peter, “The swindler was the man you stayed with?”

“Until last summer I lived with a family in Galena when I came home from school. But they moved away, and the swindler offered to take care of me. When he stole something and thought he might get caught, he had me carry the carpetbag with the stolen money.”

Again Libby wrote, “Dexter's note to Pa said, ‘Tell Peter to remember what I taught him.' What did Dexter teach you?”

Peter flushed with embarrassment. “He tried to teach me to steal any way I could.”

Libby stared at him, then wrote as fast as she could. “So he sent you on the
Christina?
He expected you to steal from Pa or anyone else?”

Peter smiled, that strange smile that always warmed Libby's heart. “But I didn't steal from anyone.”

In that moment Libby remembered Pa's words.
He wanted Peter to grow up living in the sunlight
.

All of the pieces had fallen into place. All of the pieces except what had happened to Caleb and to Jordan's father. And those pieces were the most important of all.

Leaving the money at the police station, Libby, Jordan, and Peter went outside. Far above them, bright stars twinkled against the night sky.

As they walked to the house where they had been staying, the darkness of night turned to the gray light before dawn. One by one the stars disappeared. But one star remained, brighter than any other. Was it the Morning Star?

Drawing close to the house, Libby looked ahead. When she saw someone with Caleb's blond hair coming along the road, she wondered if she was imagining things.
Is it him? Can it be?

As Libby started running, Jordan and Peter ran with her. When they reached Caleb, he threw his arms around all three of them at once. Then all of them were laughing with relief, silly with finding each other again.

“Whatever happened to you?” Libby asked. In all the time she had known him, Caleb never looked better. “We've been worried all week.”

When they started toward the house, Caleb explained. “By the time I got the horses to Dr. Brown's barn, it was too late to leave. Slave catchers had found the marks in the riverbank. They were swarming all over, wanting the rewards for Jordan and Micah Parker.”

“The catchers saw you?” It was what Libby dreaded.

Caleb nodded. “They couldn't prove anything. Jordan and his father were gone. But if I had come straight here, I would have led them to Jordan and his father.”

Caleb faced his friend. “Where is he? Your daddy isn't here yet?”

When Jordan shook his head, the glad light of seeing Caleb disappeared from his eyes.

Three Sundays
, Libby thought later that morning as she and Caleb, Jordan, and Peter sat down in church. After breakfast, Libby had helped the woman of the house arrange the chairs in rows.

Three Sundays, and each of them so different
. The first in Galena when Jordan learned the money had been stolen. The second at the Presbyterian church next to the school for girls. And now another week had passed. Of all the weeks in Jordan's life, perhaps this had been the longest. Three times he had found his father. Three times he had lost his daddy again.

As Libby saw the pain in Jordan's eyes, she guessed what he was thinking. How could it take seven days to travel the short distance from where Micah left the train to Springfield? Something had to be terribly wrong.

Though they had found the money for Pa and for Jordan's church, Libby felt no joy. Compared to Micah's life, the money didn't matter at all.

With a borrowed slate in her hand, Libby sat next to Peter, writing as needed. When the people started singing the closing hymn, Jordan stood up and stumbled forward. As though unable to carry his worries anymore, he dropped to his knees and began to pray.

“Oh, Lord! Precious Jesus! Where can my daddy be? We don't know if he is dead or alive. Please, Lord. Bring my daddy to us!”

Suddenly Jordan's strong shoulders heaved. His entire body trembled as he broke down weeping.

Quietly Caleb stood up. Dropping down on Jordan's left side, Caleb put his arm around the shoulders of his friend. When Caleb bowed his head, Libby knew he was praying. Without making a sound, she, too, stood up. Hardly knowing how she got there, Libby knelt down on the floor next to her chair. With her whole heart she prayed as she had seldom prayed before.

Dimly she became aware of what was happening around her. Peter kneeling on the floor next to her. Then members of the church leaving their chairs. One by one they knelt down behind Jordan or wherever they found room.

At first the people prayed silently, as Libby had. Then from here or there, Libby heard a whisper. “Precious Jesus! Blessed Savior!”