Ronicky Doones Treasure | Page 6

of his gun against the wall and shouted,
for there was no time to delay. At the most he could not have
outdistanced Jack Moon by more than half an hour, and that was a
meager margin in which to reach the victim, warn him, and see him
started in his flight.
Presently an old fellow with a goat beard stumbled down the stairs,
rubbing his eyes.
"And what might you want this late, partner?" he inquired.

"Hugh Dawn," said Ronicky. "Where does Hugh Dawn live?"
"Hugh Dawn?" said the other, his eyes blank with the effort of thought.
Then he shook his head. "Dunno as I ever heard about any Hugh Dawn.
Might be you got to the wrong town, son."
It was partly disappointment, partly relief that made Ronicky Doone
sigh. After all, tie had done his best; and, since his best was not good
enough, Hugh Dawn must even die. However, he would still try.
"You're sure there's no Dawn family living in these parts?"
"Dawn family? Sure there is. But there ain't no Hugh Dawn ever I
heard of."
"How long you been around here?"
"Eight years come next May Day."
'Very well," said Ronicky brusquely, recalling that it was ten years
before that Hugh Dawn, according to Jack Moon, had disappeared.
"Where is the Dawn house?"
"Old Grandpa Dawn," said the proprietor, "used to live out there, but he
died a couple of years back. Now they ain't nobody but Jerry Dawn."
"The son?"
"It ain't a son. She's a girl. Geraldine is her name. Most always she's
called Jerry, though. She teaches the school and makes out pretty good
and lives in that big house all by herself."
"And Where's the house, man?" cried Ronicky, wild with impatience.
"Out the east road about a couple of miles. Can't help knowing it, it's so
big. Stands in the middle of a bunch of pines and -- "
The rest of his words trailed away into silence. Ronicky Doone had
whipped out of the door and down the steps. Once in the saddle of Lou

again, he sent her headlong down the east road. Would he be too late,
after this delay at the hotel and the talk with the dim-minded old hotel
proprietor?
The house, as he had been told, was unmistakable. Dense foresting of
pines swept up to it on a knoll well back from the road, and over the
tops of the trees, through the misting rain and the night, he made out
the dim triangle of the roof of the building. In a moment the hoofs of
the mare were scattering the gravel of the winding road which twisted
among the trees, and presently he drew up before the house.
The face of it, as was to be expected at this hour of the night, was
utterly blank, utterly black. Only the windows, here and there,
glimmered faintly with whatever light they reflected from the stormy
night, the panes having been polished by the rain water. As he had
expected, it was built in the fashion of thirty or forty years before.
There were little decorative turrets at the four comers of the structure
and another and larger turret springing from the center of the room. He
had no doubt that daylight would reveal much carved work of the
gingerbread variety.
A huge and gloomy place it was for one girl to occupy! He sprang from
the saddle and ran up the steps and knocked heavily on the front door.
Inside, he heard the long echo wander faintly down the hall and then up
the stairs, like a ghost with swiftly lightening footfall. There was no
other reply. So he knocked again, more heavily, and, trying the knob of
the door, he found it locked fast. When he shook it there was the rattle
of a chain on the inside. The door had been securely fastened, to be
sure. This was not the rule in this country of wide-doored hospitality.
Presently there was the sound of a window being opened in the story of
the house just above him. He looked up, but he could not locate it,
since no lamp had been lighted inside.
"Who's there?" called a girl's voice.
It thrilled Ronicky Doone. He had come so far to warn a man that his
life was in danger. He was met by this calm voice of a girl.

"Who I am doesn't matter," said Ronicky Doone. "I've come to find
Hugh Dawn. Is he here?"
There was a slight pause, a very slight pause, and one which might
have been interpreted as meaning any of a dozen things. Then: "No,
Hugh Dawn is not here."
"Lady," said Ronicky Doone, "are you Geraldine Dawn?"
"Yes," said the voice. "I am she."
"I've heard of