The Star Reporter Mystery

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The Star Reporter Mystery Page 14

by Norvin Pallas LLC


  “That ought to keep you busy. But, Ted, I’m not sure. I’m a little hesitant about this whole idea. Lister and Grossen may turn a little ugly when they learn what’s happened. I don’t think they’d try any rough stuff, but if you don’t think you want to chance it, then I’m surely not going to tell you you should.”

  “Why not?” said Ted blithely. “What’ve I got to lose except my life, my honor, and about fifteen bucks in cold cash?”

  “You’re positive about it?” said Ronald.

  “Of course. After all, I know I’ve got a brother I can depend on to make sure I get a good obit.”

  “Well, O.K., Ted.” Ronald relaxed a little. “I’d rather be on your end of the deal, but I don’t see any way of managing it. Will you go on skis?”

  “I don’t care much about skiing after dark. But I’d kind of like to try my hand at some of those big snowshoes Hank has hanging on the cloakroom wall.”

  “That sounds like a better idea. And I think you’d better pack up a knapsack. You’ll need some food and a blanket, and you’d better arrange some sort of lamp in case there’s nothing there. I imagine you can get everything you need from Mrs. Hudson. But here’s how I want you to go about it, Ted. I want you to get your stuff together in the most secretive way you can manage. I don’t care if Lister finds out—in fact I hope he does—but I want you to be very careful that you don’t give him any indication that you want him to find out. That’s why I say go ahead as though you didn’t want him to find out.”

  Then Ronald unfolded the rest of his plan. Just inside the back door was a long room called the cloakroom. The guests rarely went there, since they usually used the front door and kept their clothing in their own rooms. However, special outdoor coats and boots were kept there, along with skis, snow-shoes, and other articles. The cloakroom was divided into several compartments, which fitted in with Ronald’s plan.

  He and Ted would carry their outdoor clothes down to the cloakroom, making quite sure Mr. Knight saw them in the process. Ronald felt certain that within a few minutes Mr. Knight would follow them out. Meanwhile he and Ted would be talking in one of the compartments so that Mr. Knight would be sure to overhear. They rehearsed their conversation a couple of times, then took their coats downstairs and went out to the cloakroom. Shortly afterward they heard its door opening quietly, and were confident their plan was succeeding.

  “This is the way we’ll work it,” said Ronald in a low, urgent voice to Ted. “I want you to leave directly after supper. You’ve got your coat out here, so you should be able to get off without attracting any attention. Meanwhile, I’ll leave to go down to the village where I’ll pick up the brief case. I won’t return here, but will go directly to the cabin from there. Whosit and his friend will also be leaving separately, in order not to arouse attention, and we’ll all meet at the cabin around eight thirty. Have you got all that?”

  “I’ve got it,” Ted affirmed.

  “I can’t afford any slip-up now. You’re sure you know the cabin I mean?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I go directly south from here, till the trail branches off at that little clump of fir trees. I take the eastward trail from there that winds through those low hills. About half a mile in there’s an old, abandoned cabin with the door hanging on a hinge, but that’s not the one I want. From there on the trail leads uphill, and it’s on a little round knoll that I’ll find the cabin I want.”

  “That’s it, Ted. I imagine we’ll all be able to get there without too much trouble, before Lister and Grossen suspect anything at all.”

  “You’re sure they don’t suspect already, Ron?”

  “I don’t see how they can. They don’t even know that Whosit’s friend is around here, and he’s the important one in the deal. I think we can close it out and get away from here before they even know what’s happened. We won’t come back here at all, but will send for our things.”

  “What about afterward, though, Ron? What will they do then?”

  “What can they do? With the deal closed, they’ll never be able to prove that Barry had anything to do with it, and we’ll be in for our fifteen-per-cent cut. Barry’s got a story all ready about being laid up in a hospital for this past week, with some hospital receipts to prove it.”

  They heard the door closing very quietly again, and looked out cautiously. The cloakroom was empty once more, and they smiled at each other in triumph.

  “The only trouble,” said Ted with a smirk, “is that I wish I knew what we were talking about. Say, Ron, suppose that isn’t Barry Knight in the northeast room, what are you going to do then?”

  “Then I’m going to hunt up the nearest cave and become a hermit. I can just imagine a telegram from Burnett telling me that Barry has been in the hospital for the past week, and what the devil am I doing out here anyway?”

  The supper bell had rung while they were talking, and they went in to eat. The meal was a repetition of their noontime dinner, except that conversation was a little more subdued. Lister wasn’t as obtrusive as usual, nor was Mr. Bogus, while even Professor Villinger seemed to have some important matters to meditate upon. Yet underneath the appearance of calm was a feeling of mounting tension sizzling through the room. The only person who seemed unaware of it was Mr. Lane-Payne, who continued to prattle away quite happily.

  As they left the dining room, Mr. Bogus made a point of coming over and shaking hands with Ronald and Ted.

  “I guess this is good-by, gentlemen. The birds here will have to get along without me for another season. I’ll be going to bed early to make an early start in the morning, so I may not see you again, and I want to thank everybody here who helped make my visit so pleasant.”

  “The bus doesn’t leave till afternoon, does it?” Ronald inquired.

  “No, but I understand there are private cars for hire available in the village, so that seems quicker than waiting around. Oh, there’s the professor. I want to say good-by to him, too, even though he did create some serious doubts in my mind about that scarlet tanager. But not those new fellows—they don’t appeal very much to me. Oh, professor, just a moment,” and he hurried off.

  Ronald wasn’t quite satisfied. If Mr. Bogus was leaving, that meant the deal he was working on was finished. Had he completed it, or had it fallen through? Which way was it? It seemed rather silly to worry about it, though, for Mr. Bogus gave the impression of being a man well able to take care of himself.

  Ted went through with his part of the arrangement, slipping out the back door with his knapsack and snowshoes. Ronald left more openly, saying he was going for a stroll down to the village. But he did not go very far in that direction before he circled around to the rear of the lodge where he took up his station behind a group of trees. There he was able to watch what was going on at the lodge without fear of being observed.

  Not long after Ted had left, Mr. Knight also left, heading in the same direction. Then there was a longer interval, before Marv Lister and Marty Grossen departed, taking the same southern trail. So far everything was going along smoothly. Ronald only hoped that Ted would be all right, but he had a great deal of confidence in his brother’s clear-headedness.

  Ronald continued to wait. Knowing how far away the cabin was he knew he had at least two or three hours to himself. It wasn’t his intention to approach the northeast room directly unless he found time running out and felt that he must. Instead, he decided that Barry Knight would probably be leaving his room by the outside stairway, as he had done the previous day. Therefore, Ronald took up his vigil. The wind was cold, and his legs grew a little stiff from standing, but the light was still on in the northeast room, and that gave him confidence.

  At last it was switched off, and Ronald stiffened to attention. A man came out and started down the stairs, but Ronald was not sure who it was. As the man passed the foot of the stairs, the light from a downstairs window caught him briefly, and Ronald recognized Barry Knight’s loud hunting jacket. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.

>   He stepped forward to intercept the young reporter he had come so far to find. “Well, Knight,” he announced, “it took me quite a while, but I finally made it.”

  “That you, Wilford? I might have known I couldn’t throw you off my trail. I hope I didn’t give you too much trouble?”

  “It wasn’t so bad, although the name threw me for a while. You’re Lawrence Desmond, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And your father is Walter Desmond, the man who went to prison for a gas-station robbery?”

  “You’re wrong about that, Wilford,” said Knight earnestly. “My father went to prison all right, but he didn’t steal the money. I know that he couldn’t have taken it, because I was there at the time.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Hostile Faces

  The snowshoes felt strange and cumbersome on Ted’s feet, but it didn’t take him long to get the hang of them, and by keeping his feet spread far enough apart he managed pretty well. The snow had drifted high in some places, but the snowshoes buoyed him up so well that he probably made much better progress than he would have without them.

  Reaching the small clump of trees to the south, he swung around to the eastward. Here the going became more treacherous, and he had to watch himself. It was uphill as well, and the trail was difficult to hold. He was secretly pleased at whatever difficulties he met, because he knew that the persons he had every reason to believe would soon be following him would experience equal or greater difficulties. This meant Ronald would have ample time to make his arrangements with Barry Knight.

  The first cabin was quickly found and passed, and he worked his way upward along the winding trail. He had been there earlier in the day, but things looked strangely different at night. There was no moon, but he had never seen the stars shining so brilliantly. Orion was one of the prominent constellations in the sky, a friendly, familiar sight. There were not a great many trees, but those there were looked bleak and black against the night sky. It would have been nearly impossible to find his way had it not been for the white snow, which caught the little light there was and reflected it upward. Presently he took out his flashlight as well, which helped him see the immediate path ahead, although the limited length of its beam did not help much to orient him with his surroundings.

  He found himself listening as he walked, but heard nothing except the steady crunch of his own shoes on the snow. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sensation to realize that somewhere on the trail behind him were three men—at least he hoped there were. These three men in no sense of the word could be called friends, nor was he certain to just what lengths they might go to express their enmity. While they probably held no personal animosity toward him, he was becoming increasingly aware that big things were at stake in whatever game was being played. A state-wide slot-machine racket, a possible million-dollar invention, and the reputation of a well-known newspaperman were no mere trifles.

  The prominent knoll presently came into sight, and he climbed up to the cabin above. His long hike had exhilarated him, and he felt the warm glow of his cheeks and the steady thumping of his pulse as he stooped to remove the snowshoes, then pushed open the door of the cabin.

  There was a kerosene lamp inside, so he didn’t need to use the shorter-lived electric lamp he had brought with him. He lit the wick and carefully replaced the chimney. Within the cabin were a table with two attached benches, a fireplace, a cupboard, and something that only in the most general sense could be described as a bed. It was a wooden frame with wires strung across, possibly intended to hold some soft boughs before it was occupied, but Ted felt it would be just as wise to sleep on the floor. Anyway, if Mr. Knight, Lister, and Grossen all arrived, there probably wouldn’t be much sleep for any of them. Ted would have much preferred to leave them all there while he made the run back to the lodge, even in the middle of the night, but those weren’t Ronald’s orders. Ronald had told him to hold them there as long as he could, which probably meant he must stay all night.

  He would have to make a fire, and since there was no back door, he went from the front of the cabin to the woodpile in the back. He made several trips, until he had sufficient wood to last at least for a few hours. Building a fire in the fireplace, he added wood chips and an old newspaper he found, and put a match to it. The fire caught almost at once, the chimney drew well, and soon a big blaze was crackling, sending its warmth circulating through the room. Ted took off his coat and sat down on the floor near the fire until the heat drove him back to the table. Surely the others would be along soon if they were coming, and he awaited them with mixed feeling—hopeful that their plan was successful, but with some apprehension about what he could say or do.

  He heard a noise outside and swung his eyes to the door. It opened slowly, and he saw that it was not the men he had expected, or at least not all of them. Mr. Knight alone came into the room. Had their plan been a failure then? Had the opposition split their forces, sending Mr. Knight along here while the others kept an eye on Ronald?

  “Hello, Ted,” said Mr. Knight, beginning to open his coat. “That’s a pretty good fire you’ve got there. I’ll be glad to stand up against it for a while. Old bones take longer to warm up than young ones like yours.”

  “What do you want here?” said Ted suspiciously, and there was no friendliness in his tone. He felt a little angry that Ronald had been apparently outwitted, and wondered what kind of bluff Mr. Knight would put up.

  “Now, Ted, is that the way to talk to me, after we’ve been friends for a few days and come so far together? I don’t mind telling you what I want. I had a hunch from the way you took your coat downstairs just before supper that you were going to sneak out somewhere, and the thought came to me that maybe you had some line on where my son was and weren’t telling me. So I thought I’d just better tag along, and I must say you led me quite a chase. Is Barry coming here tonight, Ted? Is that why you’re here? If you only knew how anxious I am to see my son after so many years, I’m sure you wouldn’t refuse to tell me.”

  So that was the line he was going to take. He was still pretending to be Barry Knight’s father, although Ted knew by now that there wasn’t a chance in the world of its being so. Didn’t Mr. Knight know that his bluff had been called by this time? Surely he would know that the first time Ronald talked to Barry Knight, Barry would tell him so. It was on the tip of Ted’s tongue to tell Mr. Knight that his little game was known, but wisely Ted checked himself. He couldn’t be sure yet that it really was Barry Knight in the northeast room. Even if it was, maybe Mr. Knight didn’t know about it, and so it was better to keep him guessing.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know for sure where Barry Knight is,” Ted replied, “but at least I’m pretty certain he isn’t coming here tonight.”

  “Then who is coming, Ted? Surely you wouldn’t have come all the way up here just to be by yourself. Are you expecting someone else?”

  Ted said truthfully, “It’s beginning to look as if those I was expecting aren’t going to show up.”

  Mr. Knight had little more to say. Ted wasn’t going to tell him, and he couldn’t sound too pressing without exposing himself. So he eased over to the fire and rubbed his hands.

  “Something about a good, friendly fire,” he remarked. “It gives off a kind of warmth that you never get from a stove or a radiator. Maybe it’s the color of the flames that makes it seem so cheerful. Sure you got enough wood, Ted? This won’t last the night.”

  “Maybe it won’t have to last the night,” said Ted bluntly.

  “You ain’t going back to the lodge tonight, are you? I don’t much hanker for that long walk again. Fact is, I’m not sure I could find my way alone in the dark. I only made it up here by following your trail.”

  “You can stay or leave as you please,” Ted told him. He decided to carry along with Mr. Knight’s bluff for a while. “Ron has told me how you neglected Barry when he was a little boy. I don’t think I could feel much friendship toward a man like that.”


  “Ah, well,” said Mr. Knight humbly, “you’ve got to forgive an old man for mistakes he made a long time ago.”

  What ought he to do? Ted wondered. Just staying at the cabin alone with Mr. Knight wasn’t going to do Ronald any good, was it? Maybe his best course was to hurry back to the lodge and warn Ronald. But what good would it do after all? It was a long hike back to the lodge, and surely Ronald must have been aware by this time of the miscarriage of their plans. Probably it was better to play the game out to the end along the lines Ronald had indicated.

  And fifteen minutes later Ted was glad he had made the decision he did. There was a little commotion outside, and once more the door opened. Marv Lister, followed closely by Marty Grossen, came into the room. They pulled off their gloves and blew on their fingers. Outside the wind was picking up a little, and they could hear its low whistle.

  Mr. Knight expressed surprise at seeing the newcomers, but Lister immediately cut him off. “You can forget it. You aren’t fooling anybody, and I’m not sure you ever did. Wilford must surely have talked to Barry Knight by now, and he knows you’re not Knight’s father. We don’t need you anymore. We’ll pay you off, and you can go your own way.”

  Turning upon Mr. Knight, Ted said, “Was that all you were in this for—as just a way to pick up a little money? Didn’t you care what happened to Barry Knight?”

  “That wasn’t it at all, Ted. Let me explain—”

  “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to explain anything,” said Ted abruptly.

  “Well, what’s going on here, Ted?” said Lister, bustling about. “What are you up here for?”

  “I might ask the same thing of you,” Ted returned sharply.

  “You know why I’m up here. I’m here because I figured something was going on. A conference, isn’t it? Well, where is everybody?”

  “I’m sure I don’t have any idea who ‘everybody’ means.”

  “You know who I mean—your brother, Barry Knight, Desmond, and Mr. Bogus. They were all getting together tonight on a deal, weren’t they? This gent who calls himself Mr. Bogus wasn’t fooling anybody with his line about going to bed early so he could get an early start tomorrow. I know who he is, and I’m pretty sure your brother does, too—and I know for certain he didn’t come up here just to listen to the pretty birds.”

 

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