“All right. I’m going now, Toby, but I may be back for more information. Keep your courage; I’m sure we shall get at the truth in time.”
But the boy, looking after her, shook his head and sighed.
“She’ll never suspect the truth,” he muttered. “No one will ever suspect, except those who know; and those who know will never tell.”
CHAPTER IX
HOW PHOEBE PLAYED DETECTIVE
On her way home Phoebe Daring stopped at the post office and talked with Will Chandler. He was a middle-aged man, slow and deliberate in thought and action, yet a veritable potentate in local politics and all affairs of a public character in Riverdale. There had been Chandlers in the town ever since it had been established, and before it had been named Riverdale it had been called Chandler’s Crossing, the original Chandler having been a ferryman on the river. This Will Chandler, the sole representative of a long and prominent line, was a steady, straightforward fellow and greatly respected by everyone. It was said that he was too honest ever to become rich, and to eke out a living for a large family he kept a little stock of stationery for sale in the post office. This was located in the front part of the room, and his daughter, a white-faced, silent girl, waited on customers and gave out the mail when her father was absent.
The postmaster was on his stool behind the wicket when Phoebe approached him.
“Who do you think could have taken Mrs. Ritchie’s box!” asked the girl.
“I don’t know,” said Chandler. “If I did, I’d help Toby out of his trouble.”
“I didn’t ask who took the box,” said Phoebe; “but who could have taken it.”
The postmaster slowly revolved this in his mind.
“Possible burglar?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Sam Parsons, the constable.”
“How is that?”
“I went upstairs about noon and found Sam peeking through the keyhole into the judge’s office. He mumbled some and went away. That night, just before I went home to supper, I walked upstairs again, just to see if everything was all right. I hadn’t any key, that time, but Parsons was standing with his back to the door, silent like, as if he was thinking.”
“Rather curious, isn’t it?” asked Phoebe, quite astonished by this report.
“Can’t say,” replied Chandler. “I’d trust Sam with all I’ve got — even with the United States mail. He’s the squarest man that ever walked.”
“I think so, too,” she agreed. “What other possible burglar do you know of?”
Chandler pondered.
“I might have done it,” said he; “but I guess I didn’t. Toby might have done it; but I guess he didn’t. Holbrook might have done it; but I guess — ”
“Had Mr. Holbrook any chance to take the box?” she asked quickly.
“A chance, but a rather slim one. I took him up to see the office and while we were there Hazel called me for something. So I left him sizing up the furniture and law books, to see if they were worth buying, and came down to the office. When I got back Holbrook was sitting down, looking through the books. That was the only chance he had, as far as I know, and I’ll swear he didn’t have the box when I locked up and we went away.”
“You didn’t see Mrs. Miller around that day?”
“No.”
“Nor Griggs the carpenter?”
“Haw-haw! Phoebe; that’s funny. Griggs? Griggs steal the box? Why, the old idiot won’t take the money he earns, unless you force it on him. If there’s a soul in this world that don’t care a snap for money, it’s old Griggs.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chandler. Please don’t tell anyone I’ve been questioning you.”
He looked at her steadily.
“I suppose you’re Toby’s friend, because he once helped your people out of a scrape, as everybody knows — that time the Darings came near losing their money. I wish, Phoebe Daring, you could find out who took that box. I’ve been just miserable over Toby’s arrest; but I’m so busy here, just now, I can’t lift a finger to help him.”
The girl walked thoughtfully home, wondering if she had really accomplished anything. Sitting down at her desk she made the following memoranda, writing it neatly and carefully:
“THOSE WHO KNEW OF THE BOX.
“1. — Janet Ferguson. — Being the judge’s daughter and likely to suffer more than anyone else by the theft of the box, which the Ferguson estate was responsible for, and being a sweet and honest girl and incapable of stealing even a pin, Janet is beyond suspicion.
“2. — Mrs. Ritchie. — She knew better than anyone else the value of the box. A hard, shrewd old woman, very selfish and mean. It is said she half starves the workmen on her farm and makes her hired girl pay for the dishes she breaks. Her husband left her a good deal of money, and she has made more, so she is quite rich. Never spends anything.
“Question: Did Mrs. Ritchie steal her own box?
“Answer: She might be capable of doing it and then throwing the blame on Toby. Her eagerness to have the box given up to her as soon as she heard of the judge’s death looks suspicious. On the other hand she couldn’t pick a lock to save her neck, and it’s easy to trace her every movement from the time she drove into town until she went home again. She afterward went to Mr. Spaythe and bothered him until he decided to give her the box a day earlier than he planned to give the other boxes up to their owners. But when they went to the office and opened the cupboard, the box was gone. She nearly had a fit and called Mr. Spaythe a thief to his face. Don’t think she is clever enough to assume all that. She afterward went to Lawyer Kellogg, whom she hates, and employed him to help her find the thief. If she had stolen the box herself she wouldn’t have done that. She’d have kept quiet and obliged the Fergusons to make good any loss she claimed. Considering all this, I don’t believe that Mrs. Ritchie stole her own box.
“3. — Mr. Spaythe. — A rich man who likes to make more money. Gets all the interest he can and doesn’t spend much. Pays his son Eric a mighty small salary; people say it’s because he’s so stingy. He was Judge Ferguson’s best friend. Stern and severe to most people. His own son fears him.
“Question: Did Mr. Spaythe steal Mrs. Ritchie’s box?
“Answer: He had the keys and could have done so. We’re not sure the box was taken the day after the judge’s death; it might have been several days later. It is astonishing that Mr. Spaythe at once defended Toby; was much excited over his arrest; put himself out to go to Bayport to give five thousand dollars bail, and then took Toby into his own home. Mr. Spaythe isn’t usually charitable or considerate of others; he has known Toby Clark for years and has never taken any interest in him till now. Why has he changed so suddenly? Is it because he himself stole the box but doesn’t want an innocent boy to suffer for it? No answer just now. Better watch Mr. Spaythe. He’s the biggest man around here and considered very honorable. Always keeps his word religiously. Is trusted with everyone’s money. Can I suspect such a man? Yes. Somebody stole that box. I’ll put Mr. Spaythe under suspicion.
“‘. — Will Chandler. — A prominent citizen, postmaster for a good many years and generally liked. Under bonds to the post-office department, so he has to be honest. No Chandler has ever done anything wrong.
“Question: Did Will Chandler steal the box?
“Answer: Not likely. He could have done so, but the same chance has existed for a long time, as far as Chandler is concerned, for the judge trusted him with his key. This key always hung on a peg just inside the post-office window, where the judge could reach it from the outside without bothering Chandler; but very few people knew that and either Will or his daughter Hazel always had the key in plain sight. Chandler had learned that there was money in Mrs. Ritchie’s box. He may have been suddenly tempted. Better put him under suspicion.
“5. — John Holbrook. — Absolutely unknown here. No record of his past. Is a lawyer and has a certificate to practice in this state. Dresses extravagantly, lives at the hotel and claims to be
too poor to hire a clerk.
“Question: Did he steal Mrs. Ritchie’s box?
“Answer: This man, having little or no money, was audacious enough to open a law office here — ‘on his nerve,’ Don would say. Boldness is therefore a trait in his character. He suddenly learned, from the woman herself, that there was considerable money in her box. He told Toby not to give it up, which was quite right and good advice. But he had all that night to work in. Had been in the office — left alone there — and if he was observing had noticed that the locks of the door and of the cupboard were not hard to pick. Says he knows a lot about criminal practices and so he might have taken a wax impression of the keyholes and made keys to fit them. I’ve read of such things being done. Holbrook might have hidden the box in Toby’s rubbish heap and put the papers in his room without knowing who lived in the shanty. Was evidently disturbed by the news of Toby’s arrest. Took his case, but hasn’t done a single thing to clear up the mystery. Didn’t want a detective to come here. Why? Easy to guess, if Mr. Holbrook is guilty. All his acts are strongly suspicious. Keep a sharp eye on him.
“6. — Joe Griggs, the carpenter. — Harmless old man, who doesn’t care for money. Handy with tools and could pick a lock, but wouldn’t have any desire to do so. Likes Toby and wouldn’t have any object in hurting him; careless about money; is always poor and contented. Joe Griggs could have stolen that box but I’ll bet anything he didn’t.
“7. — Mrs. Miller. — A woman who bears a doubtful character. Is deaf and dumb, but quick-witted. Her husband a drunkard and she supports the family by washing and cleaning. May have known there was money in Mrs. Ritchie’s box and wouldn’t be above stealing it. But how could she? It would be like her to hide the box and papers on Toby’s premises, to divert suspicion from herself. None can tell what an unscrupulous woman like Mrs. Miller might not do, if she set about it. Suspicious.
“8. — Sam Parsons. — Constable. That means the sole policeman and officer of the law in Riverdale. Not very well educated but quite intelligent and a terror to evil-doers. Sam is very kind hearted; is married and has a happy wife and three children. Great friend of Judge Ferguson and Toby Clark. Plays chess nearly every Monday night with Will Chandler. Everybody likes Sam except the hoodlums.
“Question: Did Sam Parsons steal Mrs. Ritchie’s box?
“Answer: Seems as if one might as well suspect the law itself, or the judge and the court and the Constitution of the United States. But somebody stole that box and Sam Parsons was twice seen in a compromising position. It was underhanded to peek through the keyhole of the office door; and what was he doing, standing with his back to it, when it was locked and no one inside? This is the strongest clew I have found in the case, and the hardest to follow. Either Sam did it, or he knows something about the theft of the box; but in either case he has kept mum. Why did he arrest Toby and put him in jail, never saying a word in protest or defense, if he knew who really took the box? Sam is fond of Toby and from the first said he was innocent. But he has never hinted that he knows the guilty party. There’s a possibility that Sam stole the box himself. I take it that a constable is human, like other folks. Therefore I’ll watch Sam Parsons.”
Phoebe now reread what she had written and nodded approval. It occurred to her that her reasoning was very logical and entirely without personal bias.
“I’ve made a beginning, at least,” she murmured. “I’ve narrowed down the possible thieves to just five people: Mr. Spaythe, Will Chandler, Mr. Holbrook, Mrs. Miller and Sam Parsons. I am positive that one of these five is guilty, but without more evidence I can’t even guess which it is. I believe I’ll go and report progress to the Little Mother, my fellow conspirator.”
Judith greeted the girl with her usual affectionate smile.
“Well, Miss Conspirator,” she said playfully, “what news?”
“I’ve accomplished something, I believe,” returned Phoebe with an air of satisfaction. “Here are my present conclusions, all written out.”
Before she read the paper, however, she related to Judith her visit to Toby Clark and to Will Chandler. Then, slowly and deliberately, she began to read.
Judith listened in some surprise, for she was astonished by the girl’s shrewdness in analyzing human character. Phoebe had struggled to be perfectly unprejudiced and impersonal in jotting down her items, but more than once the Little Mother had to repress a smile at some inconsistent hypothesis. Yet there was cleverness and a degree of logic in the entire summary.
“You see,” concluded the girl, folding the paper carefully for future reference, “we must seek the criminal among these five persons.”
“Why, dear?”
“Because, being aware of Judge Ferguson’s life and habits and of about all that goes on in this village, I find them the only ones who knew of the box, were able to get hold of it, or might for some reason or other be tempted to steal it. Don’t you agree with me, Cousin Judith!”
“Not entirely, Phoebe. I do not think any stretch of the imagination could connect Mr. Spaythe with the crime, or even Will Chandler. From their very natures, their antecedents and standing in Riverdale, such a connection is impossible.”
“Improbable, I admit, Cousin; but nothing is impossible.”
“On the other hand,” continued Judith, “you have a strong argument in favor of suspecting Mr. Holbrook. I myself have thought of him as the possible perpetrator of the crime, but have been almost ashamed to harbor such a thought. I have never seen the man, you know; but I wish we knew something of his past history.”
“How about Mrs. Miller?”
“I agree with you that she might be capable of the theft, but do not see how she could accomplish it.”
“And Sam Parsons?”
“There, I think, you have unearthed a real clew, but not one leading to Sam’s identity with the thief. The constable is absolutely honest; but he is a clever fellow, for all he seems so slow and easy, and he is the nearest approach to a detective we have in town. My idea is that Sam was suspicious that some one intended to rob the judge’s office, and was hanging around to prevent it or to discover the thief.” We may conclude that he failed to do either, for had he known who took the box he would have denounced and arrested him. It may be that Sam has some hint of the truth and is lying in wait for the burglar. Why don’t you have a talk with him, Phoebe, and try to discover how much he knows?”
“I think I shall,” said the girl, musing over this suggestion.
“And bear in mind the fact that the box might have been taken by some person you have not yet thought of in this connection. You’ve made progress, my dear — extraordinary progress — but, after all, you may be far from the truth in your deductions.”
CHAPTER X
HOW THE MARCHING CLUB WAS ORGANIZED
“Something’s got to be done,” said Don Daring, with emphasis, as he addressed a circle of eager listeners.
The children had assembled on the upper floor of the Randolph barn, a big, roomy place intended for the storage of hay, when it was built, but now a bare room because the automobile which had replaced the carriage horses, did not eat hay. The Randolphs lived directly across the road from the Darings, in a handsome, modern structure of brick and stone that had cost a lot of money to build. This family was reputed the wealthiest in Riverdale, for Mr. Randolph was a clever financier who spent most of his time in far-away Boston, where his business interests were, and only came South to see his family on rare occasions and for brief visits. Mrs. Randolph was a semi-invalid whose health obliged her to live in a warmer clime than that of Boston. She was rather selfish and worldly-minded, although professing to be much interested in foreign missions, and it was said she occupied most of her time in writing articles for religious papers and magazines. There were three Randolph children: Marion, about Phoebe’s age, who attended a college near Washington and was only home for vacations; Doris, a demure little girl of an age to associate with Becky, and Allerton, a boy a trifle younger
than Don.
Allerton, whose mother indulged his every whim, rather than be annoyed by his pleading, had just received from the city an amateur printing press and outfit and had set it up in the barn. Don and Becky had been invited to come over and see the first “job” of printing executed, but interest in the new and expensive plaything was divided by the news of Toby Clark’s misfortunes. They were all four earnest friends and admirers of Toby and having canvassed the subject in all its phases, with growing indignation and excitement, Don wound up with the statement:
“Something’s got to be done!”
“What?” asked Becky curiously.
“Something to show we believe in Toby an’ know he’s innocent.”
“That don’t answer my question,” insisted his sister. “Something don’t mean anything, unless you say what the something is.”
“He means,” announced Doris, in her prim way, “that we must undertake to do something, to be decided later, that will show to the world that we believe in the honesty of Toby Clark.”
“That’s it!” cried Don approvingly; “an’ Beck ought to know it without so much argument.”
“All right; I’m game,” said Becky, complacently. “You can count on me in anything that’ll help Toby.”
“I’m afraid we four can’t do much,” remarked Allerton. “The law has Toby in its clutches and I suppose it will hang him.”
“Hang nothing!” retorted Don, scornfully. “They don’t hang folks for stealing, Al; it’s only for murder.”
“But Toby didn’t steal Mrs. Ritchie’s box,” suggested Doris.
“No; of course not. But he’s been arrested for it and is in jail, and nobody seems to be doing anything to help him. That’s why I think we ought to do something. If I was in his fix I’d like my friends to fight for me.”
“Tell us what to do, then, and we’ll do it,” said Becky. “We’ll all join hands, eyes right an’ chins up, an’ march on to victory!”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 353