Copper Coleson's Ghost

by Edward P. Hendrick

  CHAPTER XVII A SINISTER DISCOVERY

  Promptly at seven o’clock Dave Wilbur’s car slowed down in front of theBlake house and Ned hopped nimbly into the seat beside the driver.

  “It’s going to be a black night,” remarked Dave, as the car regainedspeed. “Look at those clouds piling up. Here’s hoping it doesn’t rain onus,” and he pointed to a low-lying bank that had appeared in the westernsky.

  “There’s a lot of wind in those clouds, judging by their ragged edges,”replied Ned, “but as for being a black night, all we want is lightenough to find the entrance to the old road and locate the shack and thepile of slabs. I think our best plan will be to hide among the slabs,where we can watch both ways.”

  Five miles out from town, Dave swung into an opening among the treesthat lined the highway and forced the car far into the brush to screenit from the observation of any passer-by. “My guess is that we’re lessthan a mile from the entrance,” said Dave. “Can you find it?”

  “Yes, I think so, although it’s getting dark fast,” was the reply. “We’dbetter stop short of the place and sneak into the brush. Somebody may bewatching the entrance even at this early hour.”

  Ten minutes’ brisk walk brought the boys to a point opposite a forkedbirch tree, that showed dimly white in the gathering gloom. Ned pressedhis companion’s arm for silence. “The entrance is less than fifty yardsbeyond that tree,” he whispered. “Let’s circle around and hit the oldroad farther in.”

  As noiselessly as two Indian scouts, the boys crept into the brush, andon hands and knees threaded the thickets until an opening in the foliageabove their heads warned them that the wood-road lay close before them.In a moment Ned had dragged himself through the fringe of bushes and waspeering to right and left along the shadowy track. For several minuteshe lay motionless; then rose slowly to his feet.

  “There’s no sign of anybody,” he said in a low tone. “Let’s work alongto the slab pile.”

  Without a word, Dave followed, and in a few moments they had crept intothe shadow of the big pile which reared its irregular shape against thefaint light of the sky, now rapidly fading into the darkness of night. Afew rods to their left the outline of the shanty loomed dim for a time,but soon it had been swallowed in the velvety blackness.

  “It’s darker than the inside of a cow!” growled Dave. “I can’t seehalf-way to the end of my nose!”

  “Never mind about your _nose_,” chuckled Ned. “We’ll have to dependentirely upon our _ears_—unless somebody shows a light.”

  For almost two hours the boys maintained their vigil, speaking butrarely and then in very low tones. Above their heads a rising wind wasmoaning through the tree-tops in an ever-increasing blast, which attimes rattled the upper portions of the loosely-piled slabs.

  “It’s raining,” grumbled Dave as a drop of water splashed on his cheek.“Confound the luck! ‘It never rains but it pours!’”

  Moving with extreme caution, and not daring to use the small flashlightwhich he carried in his pocket, Ned felt about in the darkness till hehad located several loose slabs. These he stood up against the pile inthe form of a rough lean-to, which kept off some of the rain that soonbegan falling in a steady drizzle. Beneath this partial shelter the boyscrouched, each devoutly wishing the other would suggest a postponementof the job, but neither willing to be the first to cry quits. Anotherhour dragged by, and then Ned suddenly shifted his position and laid awarning hand on Dave’s arm.

  “What is it?” whispered Wilbur. “Did you hear something?”

  “Footsteps!” breathed Ned. “Put your ear to the ground and listen.”

  Dave did so and in a moment there came to his straining senses the jarof a cautious tread. A twig snapped in the darkness, followed almostimmediately by a harsh scraping sound accompanied by a faint squeak.“Somebody has pushed open the door of that shanty,” he chuckled softly,“I remember the sound of that scrape and the squeak of the rusty hinges.It’s lucky we didn’t pick that for a hiding-place!”

  “Sh!” warned Ned. “Look!” and he pointed toward the shack from thesingle window of which a gleam of light had suddenly appeared. The lightwas quickly extinguished, however, only to be followed a moment later bya faint glow higher up.

  “What do you make of that?” queried Dave, as he strove to pierce thethick murk.

  “Somebody has lighted a fire in the stove. That’s the reflection abovethe stove pipe,” replied Ned. “He’s covered the window with something toshut off the light.”

  For a time the boys watched the glow as it wavered above the pipe andthen Dave sniffed the air eagerly. “Coffee!” he growled. “My nose is ofsome use after all. Mister Somebody is having supper. That means morecrumbs for those black ants tomorrow.”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid it means a long wait for us,” grumbled Ned. “Ifthat fellow has time for a feed, he probably doesn’t expect anything tohappen right away.”

  “I can’t say I care a whole lot for this,” complained Dave after a longsilence. “It’s raining harder than ever and the wind is driving itthrough these slabs. There’s a small cataract running down the back ofmy neck!”

  “Same here,” replied Ned. “That fellow in the shanty has got all thebest of us right now; suppose we sneak over there and try to get a sightof him through a crack.”

  For once, action of almost any kind was welcomed by Weary Wilbur, andrising to their feet, the boys began to pick their way cautiously in thedirection of the shack. Half the distance had been covered when highabove the dull roar of the wind and the steady drumming of the rainthere sounded the shrill wavering cry of a screech-owl. It came from apoint near the entrance of the old wood-road and was followed at once bythe scrape and squeak of the shanty door.

  “Down!” gasped Ned, and both boys flung themselves flat upon the wetground.

  They were not an instant too soon, for a scant ten feet to their right aflashlight beam cut the blackness, blinked rapidly in a succession offlashes, and winked out. At once there followed the jar of a cautioustread as the holder of the electric torch moved slowly away along thegrassy roadway.

  “Now’s our chance!” breathed Ned, and the boys slid back to crouch amongthe weeds at the rear of the shanty. Through the brush they could peerdown the road toward its entrance, from which direction faint soundscame to their straining ears; but except for an occasional brief flashof an electric bulb they could see nothing.

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” grumbled Dave. “We can’t see a thingthat’s going on!”

  “Something is coming into the road. It’ll show up in a minute. Havepatience,” urged Ned.

  Five minutes passed and then came the soft crunch of wheels on wet grassand a black bulk barely discernible to the eyes of the watchers haltedbefore the door of the cabin, less than ten feet from where they lay.

  “What time is it?” growled a heavy voice.

  The holder of the electric torch snapped it on and consulted atimepiece. “It’s ten minutes to midnight,” was his gruff reply.

  “Cut out the glim!” came the quick growl of command and the lightclicked out, but not before its thin beam had disclosed a smallauto-truck with canvas top and curtained sides upon which the lightglistened wetly.

  “Is everything all jake ahead?” asked a third rasping voice from thefront seat of the truck. “Curse this weather!” it continued, withoutwaiting for a reply to the question.

  For several minutes there followed a conversation carried on in aguttural undertone. The name “Irma” reached Ned Blake’s ears, alsoseveral disjointed phrases of which he could make nothing, except thatthey seemed to voice dissatisfaction with something or somebody. Once hecaught the words “monkey business” followed by an expression of disgust.At length the owner of the growling voice was heard to climb aboard thetruck.

  “Look for us in a couple of hours,” was his parting word to the man whowas already returning to his former place in the shanty, and then th
evehicle moved away in the direction of Coleson’s.

  Waiting until the scrape of the shanty door and the squeak of its hingeshad assured them that its occupant was inside, the boys circled thebuilding, seeking a crack through which they might catch a glimpse ofhim. The effort proved fruitless, for obedient to orders, he had cut offthe light, and save for the faint glimmer above the smoke-pipe not a raycould be seen. Convinced at last that nothing was to be gained in thismanner, the boys crept back to the doubtful shelter of the slab pile.

  “That truck has gone out to Coleson’s and won’t be back for two hours,”chattered Dave, whose lanky frame was beginning to feel the ill effectsof his thorough wetting. “I’d like to know what’s up,” he continued,“but I’ll say it’s a mighty damp way of finding out!”

  “I wish we could have heard what those fellows were talking about,”remarked Ned, regretfully.

  “All I could get was the name ‘Irma,’” grumbled Dave. “I suppose thatmeans there’s a woman mixed up in this business—whatever it is.”

  “I wonder,” mused Ned. “Maybe now—” he broke off suddenly.

  “You wonder what!” grunted Dave unsympathetically. “‘Irma’ is a woman’sname, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve got it!” exclaimed Ned eagerly. “‘Irma’ isn’t the name of awoman—not in this case anyhow—it’s the name of a _boat_! I saw her up atCleveland last month. She’s an old steam-tug, and I’ll bet she’s thecraft Dick and I saw come in close to Coleson’s beach last night!”

  For a while the two discussed this possibility, but without arriving atany definite conclusion. Meanwhile, the wind had increased in force andthe chilling rain was driving almost unchecked through the flimsy slabshelter. Grimly the boys stuck to their watching, and at last the gleamof a headlight brought them to their feet with a warming thrill ofexcitement.

  “They’ve had to use their headlights to find the road!” croaked Dave ina voice gone suddenly hoarse.

  “Only the dimmers,” replied Ned. “They won’t show any more light thannecessary. Look!” he continued. “That fellow in the shack is on thejob!” and Ned pointed to the flash of the torch which signaled theapproaching truck.

  “They’ll pass close to us! We’d better get farther back!” whispered Ned,and creeping from the lean-to, he slipped around behind the slab pileclosely followed by Dave.

  Pushing its bulk through the bush-lined roadway, the truck had arrivedat a point opposite to where the boys crouched, when a sudden violentgust of wind lifted the slabs of which the lean-to had been constructedand flung them with a crash into the road directly in front of theoncoming vehicle. With a squeal of brakes the truck skidded to a stopand as its lights flashed into full power two men sprang to the groundand rushed forward, intent upon discovering what had happened. As thetwo came to a halt before the tumbled slabs, the glare of the headlightsshone full upon them.

  For an instant Ned Blake found himself staring at the two figures; one,muffled in a raincoat and with a cap pulled low above a swarthy face;the other, a tall man whose face glowed redly in the white gleam of theauto lamp. It was but a glimpse and then, on the moment, came the jar ofrunning feet from the direction of the shanty, and a flashlight cut theblackness.

  “Quick!” gasped Ned, backing into the bushes and dragging Dave afterhim. “Make for the flivver!” and stooping low, he started toward thehighway.

  “Whew! That was a close call!” wheezed Dave, when they pulled up at theedge of the state road. “Do you think they saw us?”

  “I don’t believe so,” replied Ned. “The light was on them and the windmade a lot of noise to cover our movements. My guess is that after theyhave looked things over a bit without finding anything suspicious,they’ll come along with that truck.”

  “And by that time we’ll be hitting the high spots for home!” ejaculatedDave. “The inside of that tin lizzie is sure going to look good to me!”

  “Not so fast,” urged Ned as his companion started for the thicket wherethe flivver was hidden. “I’m for lying close here for a while longer.I’d like to see how that truck gets into the highway.”

  “It’s so black we can’t see _anything_!” grumbled Dave, who neverthelessmade no further objection but followed Ned, as the latter, afterhazarding a single brief gleam from his flashlight, succeeded inlocating the entrance to the old road and crept silently beneath thetangle of vines close to the trunk of the great oak. Hardly were theysettled in this new hiding-place when the pale gleam of dimmed lightscame into view.

  “Here she comes!” rasped Dave in his froggy whisper. “She’s feeling herway and taking no chances of hitting a tree. My guess is that she’sabout where the tire-tracks leave off. Now we’ll soon see if she takesto the air—or _what_ she does!”

  Even as he spoke, the vehicle, which had been slowly but steadilyapproaching, came to a halt and her lights winked out. Sounds ofcautious movement came through the darkness and at irregular intervals aflashlight spat fitfully, revealing shadowy forms which seemed bent to acrouching position as they crept forward. The faint throb of the motortold that the truck was again in motion but, to the deep chagrin of thewatchers, no ray of light showed. The threshing of foliage indicatedthat the curtain of vines was being pulled aside. Then came another haltfollowed by a muttered order and the jolting of a heavy vehicle as itforced its way past the obstruction and gained the highway beyond. Quietfor several minutes, broken only by the same cautious movements asbefore and the sound of some heavy object apparently dragged along theground. Soon the scrape of a boot told that somebody was boarding thetruck; its lights flashed full, and with a quick-grinding of gears itwas off, heading along the road toward Cleveland.

  As the sound of the motor died in the distance, Ned burst from hiscovert beside the big oak, and jerking the flashlight from his pocket,played its white rays to-and-fro along the narrow way. Except forflattened blades of grass, which in a few hours would recover theirformer position, there was nothing to suggest that a vehicle had passedbut a few moments before. On the hard soil between the curtain of vinesand the edge of the macadam road no single mark of rubber tires wasvisible.

  “Well, by jiminy! This beats me!” exclaimed Dave. “How? And also why?That’s what I’m asking the water-soaked world!”

  “That’s what Dick and I wanted to know—also Red and Fatty,” answeredNed. “_How_ and _why_. We didn’t get any satisfactory answer and neitherwill you and I by standing here. Let’s go home.”

  Without a word, Dave led the way to his car and backing it out of thethicket headed back for town. “Not much to show for a night’s hardwork—not to mention being half drowned in the bargain,” he croaked, ashe let Ned out of the car at the Blake cottage.

  “Not much, that’s a fact,” agreed Ned. “See you tomorrow.” But as hecrept quietly up to his room and struggled out of his wet clothing, NedBlake found himself faced with the problem of just how much he had bestreveal to his companions regarding what he had discovered in that briefinstant when the headlight of the truck had shone upon the faces of thetwo men.

  Like a flashlight picture had come the remembrance of a short, thick-setfigure muffled in a great fur coat, and of a tall, red-faced man called“Miller.” Yes, one of the men had been the mysterious passenger on the_Frost King_, but this time recollection had gone farther back to a daywhen, instead of a glistening wet raincoat, the man had been envelopedto the chin in the streaming rubber suit of a diver. There was no roomfor doubt. The man was Latrobe. And with this discovery there had cometo Ned Blake the realization that behind the mysterious happenings outat the Coleson house there was something sinister; something fraughtwith real danger to whosoever might stand in its way. _Ghosts!_ Latrobewas more to be feared than a whole houseful of ghosts! With the possibleexception of Wat Sanford, none of the fellows took any stock in ghosts,but every one of them knew Latrobe by reputation. How would they reactto the knowledge that they were dealing with this man? As for Nedhimself, he was ready to pit his nerve and wit against anybody indef
ense of what he knew to be his right. Would the others support himagainst such an enemy as Latrobe? Should he risk the abandonment oftheir project out at Coleson’s by telling them what he had discovered?Morning dawned while Ned still wrestled with his problem.

  “I’ll wait awhile anyhow,” he muttered, as he at last dropped into anunquiet sleep.