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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

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BOOK: Ransom
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So Rannie, in a good warm overcoat and sweater underneath it, was put into an automobile and driven swiftly to a field where rested a splendid plane, into which to his great delight they hurried him. The entire village of Salter was assembled to see them start, and as the great bird lifted itself from the earth, a sober cheer arose from the village throats as the plane moved on into the sky and then quickly away out of sight.

One thing that Rannie could not understand was that Philip, instead of burning up the old suit that he had worn during captivity, had carefully done it up and sent it parcel post to police headquarters to be used as evidence in the search. And the gun that Rannie had been so proud to own because it had been left by Bud, they took away and wrapped carefully for further examination.

They sailed away into the blue sky that was so clear and wonderful, and within just a few minutes, it seemed to Rannie, there they were circling over his own mountain and looking directly down upon the roof of the little log cabin where he had been held prisoner for so many long days and nights.

Rannie's face was very sober as he looked down, and then he gave a sweeping glance over the wild empty scenery in every direction.

“Gee! I was pretty far out from everything, wasn't I?” he said, lifting startled eyes. “No wonder it took me sa long ta get anywhere. However did ya find out where I was?”

“We didn't,” said Phil. “We just followed a clue, and it led us here. God did the rest.”

Rannie's face lightened.

“Yeah, I guess none other!” he said solemnly.

A look of surprise and joy flashed into Philip's eyes, but he said nothing more just now. He did not want to spoil that solemn reverence in the boy's eyes.

“You see, this has been a former haunt of crime,” said Philip.

“Oh, yeah?” said Rannie, wondering. “Then how come I found a book like that little red fella hid away in the wall?”

“That may be another story, too,” mused Philip. “You'll have to tell me more about the book. Perhaps we'll get on the track of some other prisoner who needs our help.”

“It was a great little old book,” said Rannie. “It's changed me inta a different lad.”

“That's great,” said Philip. “But now, we'll have to get through this and hurry you home to your people. We're going first to land down in that valley and get up that mountain a little way. We want to identify that cave you spoke of if we can. We'll maybe find some of your captors there yet. The roads below have been pretty well watched. I don't quite see how they could have gotten away.”

Rannie gave a startled look.

“Got any guns?” he asked. “They're pretty tough eggs. I don't know as if two of you—at least, three of
us
—can handle 'em alone.”

“We're not going to,” said Philip. “We've got a posse of police down there waiting for us.”

And sure enough, when they landed, there appeared from out of a sheltered road where they waited in ambush, a carload of policemen and two motorcycles. There was another car for Philip's party and they put Rannie in, attending him every step as if he were something too precious to trust alone for even a moment, and then the cars began to climb up a winding rough trail. Looking out, Rannie could see far down in the valley again.

After a climb of an hour or two, they all got out and walked, keeping Rannie well covered in their midst and walking for the most part silently, with careful tread, till all at once they stood in a sheltered bit of pine growth, with great rocks cropping all about and above. Rannie could hear the rushing of the falls, and looking down he saw the deep, dark pool with the cliff just beyond, the cliff where the boss had planned to shove him off to his death.

Rannie shivered in his warm overcoat and sweater and turned a white face toward Philip.

“There's your old cabin up there,” said Philip.

Rannie looked up and there it was, just showing a corner of the roof and the little high window that had been his. Rannie shuddered again.

“And right about here, somewhere, ought to be that cave you heard about,” said Philip, studying the rock and moving on around a jutting of the stone. “We sighted a place from above that might have been the opening to a cave. Yes, here it is—why, there's a big stone in front of it!”

But the police officers were already rolling the stone out of the way, and revealed an opening wide enough for a man to go in.

Just inside was a box of provisions, some canned goods, and a loaf of bread, as if hastily thrust in, and beside it lay a man.

They all stepped back, not expecting to find their quarry so easily, and yet as they stood there they saw he was no longer a living man.

Rannie, catching sight of a can of tomatoes exactly the counterpart of the one he had carried with him on his flight, stepped nearer to look, and there he saw Bud lying, all in a huddle, his hard face white in death. So that was the shot that Rannie had thought he heard! Then the gun the boss carried had not been noiseless after all!

Rannie stepped nearer, his young face drawn in horror. So this was the price poor Bud had to pay for saving Rannie! This was more of his ransom. Two men had had to die to save Rannie Kershaw—the God-Man, Christ Jesus, and poor Bud, who had helped to kidnap him but who had refused to shove him off the cliff and had left him his own gun for protection.

But Bud believed, Rannie was sure, for there in his folded hand lying across his breast was the little red book held tight and one finger in the page at John three sixteen, “For
God so loved the world—

So the boss had shot Bud and kicked him into the cave before he was even dead, had hastily filled the mouth of the cave with the stone and fled! Rannie stooped over and took the book gently from the stiff cold fingers, as gently as Bud had removed the book from his own limp hand two days ago. The book had done its work. Bud needed it no longer. Rannie would keep it all his life to remind him what had been the price of his ransom.

Philip hurried him away after that, leaving the policemen to deal with what was left behind and to gather the evidence they had been sent to get.

All the solemn ride down the mountain, Rannie was growing up. He would never be the same carefree youth again. It seemed to him that he saw from birth to death in a new way and caught a new meaning of what it meant to live on this earth and be ready for the life that was to be, that would never end.

Later, while they were waiting for the pilot to do some trifling tinkering with his engine before they started homeward, Philip and he had a talk, and he showed Philip the little book.

“Oh, John's Gospel,” said Philip, with a light in his eyes. “I love that more than almost any other book in the Bible.”

“The Bible?” queried Rannie. “Is that a piece of the Bible? I didn't know the Bible was like that. I'd uv read it before if I had.”

Then Philip opened his heart to Rannie and they had a few minutes' sweet conversation, and Rannie told how he had read the book aloud and what Bud had said about believing.

“I think he meant it,” said Rannie thoughtfully.

“He surely did,” said Philip, “and he was saved before he died. I'm quite sure from what you tell me that he must have been born again.”

“Born again,” said Rannie. “That was another thing it told, about the story of Nicodemus. I didn't quite understand what being born again meant, but it seemed to be connected with believing.”

“The moment a soul believes on the Lord Jesus as his Savior, he is born again and becomes a child of God.”

“Oh, boy!” said Rannie dreamily. “That's great, isn't it? I wonder why nobody ever told me before.”

“Perhaps you wouldn't have listened,” said Philip thoughtfully. “Perhaps God had to let you get kidnapped to be willing to listen to His call.”

Oh, d'ya think so?” said Rannie, turning a bright face toward Philip. “Then I'm glad. It's worth it!”

“Your sister will be glad. She accepted Jesus Christ, too.”

“Oh, say! Some homecoming! Chrissie saved, too. And what about my dad? I wonder!”

“Perhaps God will let you help him find the way. Prayer does wonderful things, you know. We can all pray.”

And just then the mechanic announced that the plane was ready for flight, and Rannie, with a radiant look at his new friend Philip, settled down in his place to fly home with a great wonder upon him. He felt that the former things had passed away and all things had become new.

Chapter 20

W
hen the telegrams arrived at Seneca Street, it seemed that the world was almost too full of joy.

So many telegrams and letters had been arriving that Mr. Kershaw hardly gave much attention to them anymore. He was obsessed with the idea that his boy had been slain and they would never see him again. He had sold everything he had and gathered together all the money he could get or borrow, and it was waiting ready in the bank. The highest sum so far had been demanded, and yet no definite means of getting together with the kidnappers had developed. Only these maddening letters that kept arriving with bits of blue neckties, often of different patterns. Rannie's father did not believe in any of it anymore. He thought that God, if there was a God, had taken away Rannie in this awful way to punish him for having neglected his own children so long.

So when Christobel brought him the telegrams, he lay back in his chair and only said, “What's the use? You open them.”

Christobel opened Philip's first, as it happened, and could hardly believe her senses.

“Oh, Father!” she exclaimed in a tone of gladness that called Maggie from the kitchen. “Read it! ‘Rannie found, alive and well. Home soon! Philip.' ”

“What?” said Mr. Kershaw sitting up sharply. “Philip said that? Oh, my God! It is too good to be true.”

“Here's another one, Father,” said Christobel, so excited that she could hardly open the envelope. “Oh, Father dear! It's from Rannie himself. Just listen!”

“ ‘Dear Dad, don't pay a cent of ransom to anybody. Jesus Christ has ransomed me and I'm out and free. Don't worry. I'll hitchhike home as soon as I can earn a new suit. Rannie.' ”

She had to read it over twice to the bewildered father before he could take it all in, and then he asked, still puzzled, “What does that mean? You don't think he's lost his mind, do you, Chrissie?” The father looked at her piteously, his eyes so weary, his mind almost crazed by the strain he had been through.

“Oh no, Father! He's found it,” said Christobel. “Why, Father, he's somehow found God, wherever he's been. He means he's been saved by Jesus Christ, and there isn't any ransom to pay, likely because God in some wonderful way got him out away from those people without their having anything to do with it. Oh, Father, isn't it just too wonderful?”

Then such a baking and brewing as Maggie carried on in the kitchen, her cheeks blazing with joy, her blue eyes dripping happy tears all day.

But Rannie's father wouldn't even wait for lunch. He had things to do quickly, and he hurried out, saying he would telephone every few minutes to see if there was further word. And a little while later there did come another telegram from Philip, saying when they would likely arrive at the airstrip, and Christobel relayed it to her father.

He came back to the house presently with a shining new car, one of the latest models, and took Christobel down to the airstrip. Maggie refused to go. She said it wasn't fitting, and anyway, she had to stay and have the dinner hot. But she watched them drive away with pride in her eyes. Rannie was coming back again. That was enough for Maggie.

It seemed to Christobel as at last she watched the great silver bird of a plane come floating down onto the airstrip that her heart would burst with joy. Her two wonderful men, Rannie and Philip, coming back to her again. And Rannie had found the Lord Jesus. That was best of all.

In spite of Mr. Kershaw's best efforts, somehow the secret had leaked out, and a great crowd of friends and strangers and newspapermen and cameramen and small boys and girls and businessmen and everybody was down on the airstrip to greet them when they landed.

Rannie got out looking white and thin but still with his same old twisted grin, and there arose such a shout as it seemed to Christobel that the whole earth could hear. Then the reporters rushed up with their notebooks, and the cameramen dashed in circles all about the plane, taking pictures of Rannie and Philip and the plane and the other flier. Finally they all got away and Mr. Kershaw led them to the car.

Rannie paused and looked at it with admiration.

“Oh, boy! That's some car!” he said. “Somebody loan it to ya? Whose is it, Dad?”

“Yours, Rannie, that's the one you are going to take back to school with you!”

Rannie grinned. He thought it was a joke.

“You forget, Dad, I'm expelled from school,” he said.

“No, you're not expelled any longer,” said his father, smiling. “Your dean has rescinded the action, and they want you to come back and take another try. They have forgiven the whole class for your sake. They've been great, Son. They even wanted to give a large sum toward your ransom.”

“Say, that's great,” said Rannie thoughtfully, “but all the same, Dad, I can't go. I'm gonta get a job an' help you out, and you're not gonta go any further inta debt gettin' me cars, that's a cinch. You failing in business and all!”

“That's all right, Rannie,” said his father. “The business is holding its own, and we'll make out. You're going back, and you're going to have this car. And as for you, Philip—” He half turned around in the seat and looked back where Philip and Christobel sat hand in hand, without seeming to be in the least embarrassed. “You may ask what you will to the whole of my kingdom, for all you have done for me and my boy.”

BOOK: Ransom
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