The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

man—in the woods. He wanted me to give him money. You know, Annie, I never had much money—just fished, slept outdoors, and camped. He grabbed my knapsack when he found I hadn’t any money, and he jumped on me and tried to kill me. He tried to shove me off the cliff where we were. I struggled with him, and we both went over. I hit a ledge; then I guess I blacked out. He went on down, over the cliff.”
    “Then it must have been his body they found,” Mrs. Moore said, her voice low. “He had your knapsack. They sent it to me, Matthew.”
    “And you thought I was dead? Oh, Annie! I was worse than dead. I’ve been worse than dead for all these years. Linnie was only four....” His voice quivered, and he held his daughter’s hand tight.
    “Where have you been all these years?” Mrs. Moore asked, her voice filled with concern. “Have you been sick, Matthew?”
    “Some men who were surveying found me on the ledge where I fell. They took me to Springfield, and no one there knew who I was. I couldn’t tell them. I was in a hospital. They gave me good care, but they couldn’t bring my mind back. When I was strong again, I worked around the hospital grounds. I saved the money they paid me. I’ve got a good bit, Annie. No one robbed me. I’ll get it for you.”
    “Didn’t you remember me or Linnie?” Mrs. Moore asked.
    “In the back of my mind I did. There was something that bothered me all the time. When I’d see a young girl, I’d try so hard to remember. I must have been thinking of Linnie. That’s why I was so glad I shot that wildcat. I thought every young girl I saw might be mine.”
    “Then it was you who saved my life!” Trixie cried. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Moore. It was you!”
    “It was a fair exchange, as it turned out,” Matthew Moore answered. “You and the other young ones just saved my life and brought me home!”
    “How did you happen to come back to this part of Missouri?” Uncle Andrew asked, eager to have him tell the whole story.
    “That’s one thing I just don’t know. Finally I thought I couldn’t stay at that hospital one day longer. I had to start wandering. If I wandered, I might somehow get to a place where someone would know me.”
    “It must have been instinct that led you to these woods,” Uncle Andrew said.
    “Mama thought you were Daddy’s ghost,” Linnie said. “You sang that song, ‘Sorrow, Sweet Sorrow,’ didn’t you? Did you leave the turkey and squirrels for us? Did you? And the little lame bird?”
    “I’m still a little dazed, honey,” Matthew Moore said. “It’ll all come back, I know. All I do know now is that there was always something different in the air here—something that I knew. Now I’m home.”
    “Yes, Matthew,” Mrs. Moore said, a prayer of thanks in her voice, “now you’re home.”
     

A Just Reward ● 18
     
    UNCLE ANDREW FELT deep concern for Matthew Moore. There was a great bump on his head, and his eyes were swollen and black. “I think Linnie and one of the boys should drive to town to get Dr. Manning,” he said.
    “Annie’s the only doctor anyone ever used to need around here,” Matthew said. “She can put a mullein poultice on my head and mix a sassafras tonic. In a few days, I’ll be as good as new. There’s never been a real doctor in White Hole Springs. He’d starve to death.”
    “There’s a doctor there now, Matthew—young Seth Manning,” Mrs. Moore told him.
    “How did a Manning ever get to be a doctor? There must be a dozen children in that family.”
    “There are, and six of them are working their way through high school at the School of the Ozarks. That’s where Seth went. He did so well that a doctor in St. Louis backed him to go to medical school. Now he’s come back to the hills to practice. That School of the Ozarks is a wonderful school.”
    “That’s a fine thing for anyone to do,” Matthew Moore said, “work to be a doctor. Mr. Belden, I don’t need a doctor. All I need is to go to our cabin and rest. I feel real good. If you still think I need a doctor tomorrow, then Linnie can get him when you all go into town with these young people. Annie, I feel real proud of that money I saved. Since I’ve been at that cabin, I’ve been digging ginseng, too, and I’ve got a good bundle of it stored away. It’ll bring a good sum.”
    “Just to have you alive is all I want,” Mrs. Moore told her husband.
    “That Slim knew I had the ginseng,” Matthew Moore continued. “He tried