Chapter 33
The Note

The next day at school I was more “pensive” as Mr. MacPherson would say. I was thinking about Pa and Katie and the wedding coming up just nine days away, and I suppose I was seeing lots of things through different eyes too, because my mind was full of Walden. So I wasn’t paying heed to things like I should have been.

After school I couldn’t find Becky. Pa had gone to town that morning, so when I didn’t see her around after school, I vaguely remembered Pa saying something at breakfast about “if any of you wanna ride home with me . . .”

My thoughts were occupied with other things. So when none of us could find Becky anywhere, I figured Pa had fetched her without any of us seeing him, and I loaded the other kids up in the wagon and headed home.

We rode up and there was Pa. But he’d been home for two hours and hadn’t seen anything of Becky. Then we started realizing we had something to worry about.

Pa immediately started to saddle Jester.

“I’ll go back in, Pa,” I said. “It’s my fault for leaving her.”

“Naw, it’s okay, Corrie.”

“We could both go,” I suggested. “It’ll make it easier. We’ll have to check all around town and one of us’ll have to ride out to Miss Stansberry’s. Becky could be anyplace.”

Pa thought for a moment. “I reckon you’re right. We’ll ride in on Snowball and Jester, then we’ll split up if she’s not still around the school someplace. You go to the Stansberrys’ and I’ll go see Mrs. Parrish. One of them’s sure to know where the little tyke is.”

Five minutes later Pa and I were galloping toward town.

Four hours later we returned, just the two of us. No one in town had seen Becky. She had disappeared.

We were silent all the way home. We’d talked to everybody we could think of. I don’t know what Pa was thinking, but I know he was worried. I was praying.

A couple of times he muttered something about what a fool he had been to think bringing Katie here would change things, and mumbling about troubles following him for the rest of his life. I suppose we were both blaming ourselves for what happened.

It was pretty silent that evening. Inside the house it might as well have been a tomb.

Katie tried to cheer everybody up, and a couple of times I thought Pa was going to yell at her to shut up and let us all be sad in peace. But finally she realized she wasn’t helping and quieted down on her own. Pa just sat there, his feet up on the table, and she didn’t even say anything about the dirt.

Just as it was getting dark, we heard a horse galloping up outside.

Pa jumped to his feet and ran out the door, leaving it wide open. Every one of us followed him.

It was Sheriff Rafferty.

“You find her?” shouted Pa as the sheriff reined in his horse.

There was no reply. Rafferty slowed to a stop, then dismounted, threw the rein over the rail, and walked toward Pa. It was clear from his face he didn’t have good news. He was holding a piece of paper.

“Sorry, Drum,” he said. “All I got’s this.” He handed Pa the paper. “Weber found it nailed to a post outside his livery in this envelope with your name on it. No one saw how it got there. He brought it to me.”

Pa grabbed it, fumbled hurriedly with the envelope, and unfolded the paper. As he read, a sickening look of dread spread over his face.

You’ll get yer daughter back, Hollister, when you fork over $50,000. The loot’s mine, I’m jist gittin’ what’s comin’ to me! An’ jist in case yer not lyin’ about not knowin’ where it is, I figure yer mine’s worth plenty. So you jist git the money, or fifty thousand in gold, or the deed to yer place. It don’t matter to me. Try to find the little girl, and I’ll kill you and her both! If there ain’t no money by next week, we’re leavin’ yer brat to the wolves. They’ll find her in less than two hours! And then I’ll grab another o’ yer kids and we’ll go through this all again. So pay up, Hollister, fer yer own good! I’ll git word to you where to take it.

“Krebbs!”

Pa’s voice held sounds of wrath and despondency and self-blame and hatred. He walked a few steps away, one hand on his head, the other at his side with fist clenched.

“We gotta do some serious talking, Drum,” said Sheriff Rafferty.

Pa turned back around to face him.

“There was also this,” the sheriff went on, pulling another envelope from his pocket. “This one had my name on it. I guess they figured if they couldn’t get you one way, they’d put me on your trail.”

Again Pa slowly opened the envelope and took out a folded paper. It was an old, half-torn, yellowed and ragged warrant for Pa’s arrest.

“Well, I reckon it’s all caught up with me at last,” said Pa with a sigh. “You better come on in, Simon.”

Pa led the sheriff inside. The rest of us followed and closed the door behind us.