CHAPTER XIII.
THE RED-HAIRED MAN.
"I'll send the glasses at once," said Garnesk, as the train steamedout of the station. Dennis and I stood on the platform and watched himout of sight.
"He seems a good fellow," said Dennis.
"Splendid!" I agreed readily. "He's exceeding clever and wide-awake,and very charming. What we should have done without him heaven onlyknows. I fancy his visit saved the entire household from a nervouscollapse."
"We've no time for collapses, nervous or otherwise," Dennis replied."We shall want our wits about us, and we shall need all the vitalitywe can muster. But at the same time I don't think there is any causefor nerves. You're not the sort of man, Ron, to let your nerves getthe better of you in an emergency, especially if we can prove that ourenemy is a tangible quantity, and not a conglomeration of waves andvibrations."
"Hilderman and his friend appear to be waiting for us," I interrupted.
"You may as well introduce me," said Dennis. "I'd like to meet theman. Who is his friend, do you know?"
"Haven't the remotest idea," I replied. "I have seen him once before,but that is all. I don't know who he is."
"Is he staying with Hilderman, or does he live in the neighbourhood?"
"That I couldn't tell you either," I said. "I'm sure he doesn't liveanywhere near Invermalluch."
As we strolled out of the station Hilderman and his companion werestanding chatting by the gate which leads on to the pier. As weapproached, Hilderman turned to me with a smile.
"Ah, Mr. Ewart," he exclaimed, "your friend has left you, then. I hopeyou won't let his inability to help Miss McLeod depress you unduly.While there's life there's hope."
"I shall not give up hope yet awhile, anyway," I answered heartily.
"May I introduce my friend Mr. Fuller?" he asked presently, and Ifound myself shaking hands with the round-faced little man, whoblinked at me pleasantly through his glasses. I returned thecompliment by introducing Dennis.
"On holiday, Mr. Burnham?" asked the American. Dennis was so promptwith his reply that I was convinced he had been thinking it out in themeanwhile.
"Well, I hardly know that I should call it a holiday," he repliedimmediately. "I have just run up to say good-bye to Ewart beforeoffering my services to my King and country. We had intended to joinup together, but he has, as you know, been detained for the timebeing, so I am off by myself."
"We are very old friends," I explained, "and Burnham very decentlydecided to come here to see me as I was unable to go south to seehim."
"Never mind, Mr. Ewart," said Hilderman. "I guess you'll be able tojoin him very soon. I wish you luck, Mr. Burnham. I suppose it won'tbe long before you leave."
"He's talking of returning to-morrow," I cut in. "I wish you'd tellhim it's ridiculous, Mr. Hilderman. Fancy coming all this way fortwenty-four hours. He must have a look round, to say nothing of hisstinginess in depriving me of his company so soon."
"Well, I can quite understand Mr. Burnham's anxiety to join at theearliest possible moment," he answered. "But I've no doubt LordKitchener wouldn't miss him for a day. I think he might multiply hisvisit by two, and stop till Wednesday, at any rate. Ah, here's the_Fiona_!"
I looked out to the mouth of the harbour, and saw the steam yacht,which was in the habit of calling at Glasnabinnie, gliding past thelighthouse rock. I was about to make some comment on the boat whenHilderman forestalled me.
"How are you going back?" he asked.
"In a motor-boat," I replied. "I am afraid Angus is getting weary ofwaiting already."
"I'm sure Mr. Fuller would be delighted to have you fellows on board.Why not let your man take Mr. Burnham's luggage to Invermalluch, andcome to Glasnabinnie on the _Fiona_? You can lunch with me, and whenyou tire of our company I will run you across in the _Baltimore_. Eh?What do you say?"
"I shall be delighted, of course," his companion broke in.
I hesitated for a moment, and glanced at Dennis. His face obviouslysaid, "Accept," so I accepted.
"Thank you," I said; "we shall be very pleased. It will be more jollythan going back by ourselves."
"Good!" cried Hilderman, "and I can show you the view from mysmoking-room. I hope it will make you green with envy."
So I gave Angus his instructions, and the four of us waited at thefish-table steps for the dinghy to come ashore from the yacht. She wasnot a particularly beautiful boat, but she looked comfortable andstrong, and her clumsy appearance was accentuated by the fact that herfunnel was aft a commodious deck dining-saloon, on the top of whichwas a small wheel-house. Myra had been right, as it turned out; shewas a converted drifter. The two men who came in to pick us up worethe usual blue guernsey, with _S.Y. Fiona_ worked in an arc of redwool across the chest. They were obviously good servants and usefulhands, but there was none of that ridiculous imitation of navalcustom and etiquette which delights the heart of the Cotton Exchangeyacht-owner. We boarded the _Fiona_ with the feeling that we were goingto have a pleasant and comfortable time, and not with the fear thatour setting of a leather-soled shoe upon the hallowed decks was initself an act of sacrilege. We were no sooner aboard than Fuller sethimself to play the host with a charm which was exceedingly attentiveand neither fussy nor patronising.
"The trivial but necessary question of edible stores will detain usfor a few moments," he said. "But we shall be more comfortable herethan wandering about among the herrings." So we made ourselvescomfortable in deck-chairs in the stern, while the steward went ashoreand made the all-important purchases.
"You cruise a good deal, I suppose?" was my first question.
"Yes, a fair amount," our host replied. "I pretty well live on board,you know, although I have a small house further north, on Loch Duich,if you know where that is."
"Mr. Ewart was born up here, and knows it backwards," Hildermaninformed him. And we chatted about the district and the fishing andthe views until the steward returned, and we got under weigh. I shouldhave liked to have seen the accommodation below, but the journey was ashort one, and I had no opportunity to make the suggestion. Denniswas sitting nearest the rail, and there was a small hank of rope athis feet.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Burnham," said Fuller suddenly. "I didn'tnotice that rope was in your way." And he learned over and tossed therope away. As he did so some hard object fell with a clatter from thecoil.
"It's not interfering with me in the least," laughed Dennis, andlooked down at a large, bone-handled clasp-knife which had dropped infront of him. He picked it up idly, and weighed it in his hand.
"Useful sort of implement," he said.
"Oh, these sailor-chaps like a big knife more than anything," saidHilderman; "and, of course, they need them strong. I daresay that hasbeen used for anything, from primitive carpentry to cutting tobacco.The one knife always does for everything."
We continued our conversation while Dennis idly examined the knife,opening it and studying the blade absently. Presently Fuller, noticinghis absorption, began to chaff him about it.
"Well," he laughed, "have you compiled a complete history of the knifeand it's owner? If you're ready to sit an examination on the subject Iwill constitute myself examiner, then we'll find who the knife belongsto, and corroborate or contradict your conclusions."
"It's a very ordinary knife to find on board a boat, I should think,"said Dennis.
"Oh come, Mr. Burnham," Hilderman joined in, "you mustn't wriggle outof it. Surely you can answer Mr. Fuller's questions."
"If Mr. Fuller will allow me to put one or two preliminary questionsto him," Dennis replied, entering into the spirit of fun, "I am readyto go into the witness-box and swear quite a number of fancifulthings."
"Come now, Fuller," chaffed Hilderman. "You must give him a run forhis money, you know. He is risking his reputation at a moment'snotice. I think you ought to let him ask you three questions, at anyrate."
"Fire away, Mr. Burnham," said our host. "I'll give you a start ofthree questions, and then you must be prepare
d to answer everyreasonable question I put to you, or be branded publicly as anunreliable witness and an incompetent detective."
Dennis puffed at his pipe and smiled, and I was surprised to see thathe really was bringing his mind to bear on the trivial problem withall the acuteness he had in him.
"Well, in the first place," he asked, "do you stop in port very oftenovernight, or for any length of time during the day?"
"I never stop in port longer than I can help," laughed Fuller, "or theowner of that knife would probably take the opportunity of buying anew one, and throwing this old thing away. All the same, I don't seehow that is going to help you."
"Ah," said Dennis, in bantering vein, "you mustn't expect me to giveaway my process, you know. The secret's been in the family for years."
"What's your second question, Den?" I asked.
"Is there a hotel within reasonable distance of your house on LochWhatever-it-is, Mr. Fuller?"
"Loch Duich?" our host replied. "There's one about six miles by roadand eleven or twelve by the sea."
"I don't think I need ask you the third question, then," said Dennis."You can begin your examination now."
"Now, Mr. Burnham," Fuller commenced, "you quite understand thatanything you say will be taken down in writing, and may be used asevidence against you?"
"I assure you I have a keen appreciation of the gravity of thesituation," Dennis replied seriously.
"Well," said Fuller, "I'll begin with an easy one--one that won't taxyour powers of observation beyond endurance."
"Yes," I urged, "let him down gently. He does his best."
"What profession does the owner of that knife follow?"
Hilderman and I laughed.
"We may as well count that answer as read," he said.
"There's a catch there, Dennis," I warned him. "The legal designationis 'mariner.'"
"I don't think it is," said my friend.
"We won't quarrel about terms," laughed our host graciously. "Sailoror seaman or deckhand will do just as well."
"No," said Dennis, "it won't. The owner of this knife is not a sailorby profession."
"But," Fuller protested, "it must belong to one of my crew, and it isobviously a seaman's knife."
"In that case," Dennis answered, "I think you'll find that you have aman on board who is not a professional seaman in the ordinary use ofthe term. I'll tell you what I think of this knife, shall I?"
"By all means," urged Hilderman and his friend together, and I beganto take a keen interest in this curious discussion, for I could seethat Dennis was no longer playing. He turned the knife over in hishand, and looked up at Fuller.
"Mr. Fuller," he said quietly, "the owner of this knife is not asailor by profession. He is probably a schoolmaster. I can't be sureof that, but I can say this definitely: he is a professional man ofsome sort, possibly an engineer, but, as I say, more probably amathematical master. He is left-handed, has red hair, a wife, and atleast one child."
I shouted with laughter when I realised how thoroughly my friend hadpulled my leg, but I broke off abruptly when Hilderman sat boltupright, and his chair and Fuller's cigar fell unheeded on to thedeck. But in a second they took their cue from me, and roared withlaughter.
"Oh, excellent, Mr. Burnham," said Hilderman between his guffaws. "Butyou forgot to mention that his sister married a butcher's assistant."
"Ah, but I don't admit she did," Dennis protested.
"I'm very much indebted to you for exposing this masquerader," saidFuller. "I shall have the matter inquired into. But seriously, Mr.Burnham, you made one extraordinary fluke in your deductions, whichalmost took my breath away. I have a man on board with red hair, andwhen the boat came into the harbour he was working about here. I sawhim leave his work to come ashore for us. I shouldn't be at allsurprised to find that the knife belonged to him."
"Oh, well," Dennis laughed, "one shot right is not a bad average for abeginner, you know."
"No," said Hilderman, puffing a cloud of smoke, and dreamily followingits ascent with his eyes, "not bad at all. Not bad at all."
And then, the joke of the clasp-knife being played out, we admired thescenery, and conversed of less speculative subjects till we arrived atGlasnabinnie.
We were pulled ashore by the man with the red hair, and when our hostconfronted him with the knife he promptly claimed it.
"I think you won, Mr. Burnham," laughed Fuller, and Dennis smiledin reply. We slid alongside the landing-stage and stepped out, andDennis's schoolmaster was about to slip the painter through a ringand make the boat fast. But evidently the ring was broken. The mancame ashore, and Hilderman began to lead us up the path. But Dennisdeliberately turned and watched the sailor. Hilderman and hiscompanion strolled ahead while I stood beside Dennis. The man with thered hair fished among a pile of wire rope, and picked out a smallmarline-spike. Then he lifted a large stone, held the marline-spike onthe wooden planking of the landing-stage, and hammered it in with thestone. Then he threw the painter round it, and made the boat secure inthat way.
"Yes," murmured Dennis quietly, as we turned to join the others, "Ithink I won."
For the man had held the stone in his left hand.
The Mystery of the Green Ray Page 13