The Firebug

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by Roy J. Snell


  CHAPTER XVII THE UNANSWERED CALL

  Since there were no new clues to be followed out, and because he hadgrown tired of haunting the central fire station with its incessantclatter of telegraph instruments and its eternal flashes of light, at teno'clock that night Johnny went again to the river and taking his oldfriend's boat from its place of concealment rowed slowly toward BenZook's island. The lake was calm as a millpond and there was no reasonfor strenuous rowing. Then, too, he wished to think as he rowed. Johnnywas one of those fellows who thought best in action.

  His thoughts that night were long, long thoughts, long and tangled. Itwas as if he had a half dozen skeins of yarn all tangled together and wastrying to find the ends of each and to disentangle it from the others.

  His mind was still working upon those black cylinders out in the blackshack. He had a feeling that the man he had seen asleep out there wasnone other than the one who had twice gone gunning for him out there inthe marsh. If that were true and if he were the man who had been at theSimons Building fire and at the Zoo and later on Ben Zook's island, thenthose black cylinders must have some significance.

  He smiled at this complicated chain of circumstances. "Fat chance!" hemurmured to himself. "And yet that might be true, and if it is there'ssome connection between the telephone with double wiring and that scrapof black pasteboard we found on the island after that blaze.

  "Black pasteboard!" he exclaimed suddenly. "That's it! The piece we foundis part of one of those cylinders!"

  "But if it is," he said more soberly a moment later, "then why would theyburn it out here on Ben's island? Lot's of sense to that!"

  So in the end he got nowhere in his thought unravelling process. However,his arms were working mechanically all the time and he was nearing theisland. As he thought of this he suddenly sat straight up and, as ifeager to reach his goal, began to row with all his power.

  He was eager, too, for he suddenly recalled that he was bound on a verypleasant mission. Was he not to tell Ben Zook that at any time he wishedhe might leave the island for a place of trees, green grass, flowingwater and a real cabin of fair dimensions? Small wonder that he hurried.

  As he neared the shore his heart warmed at thought of the smile thatwould come to the face of the kindly, cheerful, little old man.

  "Surely," he thought to himself, "in spite of the fact that he's a bitstrange and uncouth, he's a real gentleman after all and deserves a greatdeal more than is coming to him."

  He smiled as he thought of the little chicken coop Ben Zook had showedhim. A low-roofed affair with a roost of bars about three feet long; fivechickens on the roost, blinking at the light; a single goose in a cornerwith his head under his wing; this was Ben's poultry house and his brood.There'd be more to it now--a real chicken house and perhaps a hundredfine fowls. It would be a Paradise for Ben Zook.

  As he mused happily on these things his boat touched the shore. Springingout nimbly, he dragged the boat up the beach and turned his face towardBen's house.

  At that moment, as a cloud passing over the moon sent a chill down hisspine, something seemed to whisper to him that all was not well. That hemight dispel this dark foreboding, he lifted up his voice in a cheeryshout:

  "Ben Zook! Oh, Ben Zook, I'm coming."

  The distant skyscrapers, like some mountainside, caught his words andflung them back to him, seeming at the same time to change his "Oh" to"old."

  "Ben Zook! Old Ben Zook!"

  Again and again, more faintly, and yet more faintly:

  "Ben Zook! Old Ben Zook. Ben Zook--Zook."

  As the echo trailed away in the distance, a foreboding came over Johnny.There had come no answering call.

  Still he tried to cheer himself. "He's asleep," Johnny told himself."Little wonder, too. I was out here till near morning."

  After that he trudged in silence over the piles of broken brick, sand andclay.

  As he came at last within sight of Ben's place he was cheered by thesight of red coals on the grate.

  "It's not been long since he was here, anyway," he said.

  Yet his feeling that Ben was not in his house proved true. The place wasempty.

  "Probably gone for a stroll down the beach," was his mental comment as hedropped down in Ben's big arm chair.

  The chair was a comfortable one. The fire, with a chill breeze blowingoff the lake, was cheering too, yet there was no comfort for Johnny. Hehad not been seated two minutes when he was again upon his feet.

  "I don't like it," he muttered.

  The next moment he was chiding himself for a fool. "He'll be here in amoment and I'll tell him about the reward." Johnny smiled at the thought.

  Walking to the tiny poultry house, he opened the door and, flicking onhis flashlight, looked within. The calm assurance of chickens on theirroost, of the single goose who did not so much as take his head frombeneath his wing, did much to allay his fears.

  "Just look about a bit, anyway," he mused. "May find another case ofdiamonds," he added with a forced chuckle.

  As he stepped over the first mound of clay he thought he detected a soundbehind him. Stopping dead in his tracks, while little tufts of hairappeared to rise at the back of his neck, he said in a low, steady tone:

  "Ben. Ben Zook."

  There came no answer, no other sound.

  He crossed another mound, and yet another. Then again there came a soundas of a brick loosened from a pile.

  "Ben. Ben Zook," he called softly. Once more no answer.

  Then, just as he was about to go forward again, having thrown his lightten feet before him, he started back in horror. There at his feet lay adead man!

  Trembling in every limb, feeling sick as if about to fall in a faint, yetbattling it back, he stood still in his tracks for such a space of timeas it might take to count one hundred.

  Then, finding he could once more trust his wobbly knees, he moved forwardthree paces, threw his light at his feet, took one good steady look, putout a hand and picked something up, held it for ten seconds, bent low fora better look, then like one who had seen a ghost he went racing andstaggering across the piles toward the shore and his boat.

  Fear lent him wings. Nor did he stop at the shore. With one motion heshoved the boat into the water; with another, regardless of wet feet, hesprang aboard and before he could think twice found himself well out intothe lake.

  There at last he dropped his oars to sit staring back at the island andto at last slump down in his seat.

  His mind, first in a whirl and next in a dead calm, was trying to tellhis senses something that seemed impossible.

  At last, raising his face to the sky, he said solemnly:

  "Ben Zook is dead! Poor, harmless, golden hearted Ben Zook! Someonekilled him. I'm going after the police boat now. The police will do whatthey can to find the man. But, by all that's good, I will find themurderer and he will pay the price for his cowardly crime."

  Having thus made his vow, he found that strength, hope and courage cameebbing back. Seizing his oars he rowed rapidly toward the city.

  From that time until the end Johnny conducted his search with suchreckless daring that it could bring but one of two things: A crown oftriumph or a quiet six feet of sod in a church-yard.

 

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