by Dan H Kind
Chapter 8
Investigations in Tranquil Forest
Sir Arthur led the way through Tranquil Forest, batting aside low-hanging branches and vines. When they reached the glade and the shores of the bubbling spring, the Black Avenger showed the beekeeper the charred footprints and trampled ground they had noticed earlier that morning.
Sir Arthur produced a magnifying glass from his tweed coat and went down on all fours, examining the prints and every square inch of ground in the area. Then he looked up at the webbing-covered trees with a thoughtful expression. He lowered his gaze, caught sight of something, and made a bee-line for a rhododendron a few yards from the fizzling spring. He raised his magnifying glass to something that clung to the bush's branches, fluttering in the breeze. He produced a pair of tweezers and an empty test tube from his coat pocket, grasped some stringy fibers between the instrument's pincers, and placed them into the glass tube with the utmost precision. He then walked around the glade again, picking at bits of fuzz and fluff, strands of this and that.
Sir Arthur wrapped up the C.S.I. and stashed his new collection of specimens, each numbered and labeled, into some dark recess of his coat. “I must take these items back to my laboratory for analysis. I believe I know who these individuals are, but I wish to be certain before I reveal my findings.” He peered at the kids. “I apologize in advance, for my cottage is humble and cluttered, but I think it would be an excellent idea if you folks stayed with me until we can make transparent these opaque matters.”
The gang glanced around at one another, and something unspoken passed between them. “Sure, mister, if that's what you think's best,” agreed the Black Avenger, fingering an old-fashioned slingshot attached to his belt. “And mebbe if we hang around town, we'll have a grand ol' adventure!” A serious look crossed his face. “That’s what we do, you know. We adventure.”
Sir Arthur grinned. “Well, just hang with me, lads and lady, for I portend much adventure in the near future. And I love a good mystery.” He pulled a gold-plated pocket watch from his jacket and glanced at the time. “But let us make our exit. Our friends may return at any time, and it is a bit early in the game for a confrontation. We must attain a clearer idea of what we are up against before deciding upon an appropriate course of action, which might not be a direct encounter. Indeed, something a bit more subtle may be called for.” He pointed eastward. “To the bee farm!”
And they departed the pristine glade.