AS A MAN SPEAKS
"Hard!" said Police Captain Tucker. "That's what he is, Doctor--hard,"and the policeman drove a smacking fist into the palm of his other handto emphasize the point.
The dog, lying in front of the fireplace, lifted her head. Dr. DavidStone puffed his pipe serenely in the warmth of the blazing logs. Thewinter wind whistled about the house, a shutter banged like the report ofa gun, and Joe Morrow jumped.
"Talks tough, Doctor, and sticks out his chin as though asking you whatyou were going to do about it. I've sent out his fingerprints. Wouldn'tbe surprised if it turned out he was a bit of a gangster."
"You have him safely in jail," Dr. Stone pointed out.
"Safe enough for the present," Captain Tucker admitted, "but I can't holdhim forever on mere suspicion."
"Then you're not charging him with murder?"
"How can I? You can't prove a murder without producing a body. Where'sthe corpse? Where's Boothy Wilkes, alive or dead? He hasn't beenaround----. You pass his place every day, Joe. When did you see himlast?"
"Wednesday," Joe Morrow, Dr. Stone's nephew, answered. "He asked me had Iseen Jud Cory hanging around."
"Nobody's seen him since Wednesday. That was six days ago. That morninghe and Jud had a talk outside the post office--something about money--andsuddenly Jud yelled out that he'd kill him. Dozen people heard it. Andsince late Wednesday Boothy hasn't been seen."
"Why did Jud want to kill him?" the blind doctor asked.
"How do I know?"
"Might be worth looking into," the calm voice drawled.
"Haven't I tried to sweat it out of him? Haven't I grilled him trying tomake him tell where he hid the body? What do I get? A stuck-out chin, anda scowl, and him telling me he's not a squealer. That's gangster talk."
The blind man's head rested against the back of the chair; his sightlesseyes seemed to stare unblinkingly at some object on the ceiling; the paleface had the calmness of graven stone. Joe, highly excited by all thistalk of murder and a hidden body, pulled at a thought that had occurredto him more than once in the past. Could anything happen that would shakehis uncle out of that unruffled tranquillity?
"How old did you say he was, Captain?"
"Twenty."
The doctor sat up and knocked the ashes of his pipe into the fireplace,"No boy is hard at twenty, Captain. He only thinks he's hard. Mind if Italk to him?"
Captain Tucker sighed. "I was hoping you would."
Dr. Stone reached for the dog's harness. "More work for us, old girl," hesaid, and the dog looked at him steadily. Joe wondered if she understood.They went out to the small police car, the tawny shepherd anxiouslyleading the blind man through the snow to the running-board. Crowded intothe car, Joe and the dog in the rear seat, they rode toward the village.
"How long is it since Jud Cory left here?" Dr. Stone asked.
"Seven years. That's what I can't understand. Why should he come backafter seven years to do a murder? He used to live with Boothy; did choresfor his keep. We've sent for his brother."
"Jud's?"
"No; Boothy's."
The doctor said, surprised: "I didn't know he had a brother."
"Neither did anybody else. But for that matter Boothy was a tight-lippedman who told his business to no one. After the neighbors reported himmissing we searched the house. Found a will and a note written the daybefore the quarrel outside the post office. The note said if anythinghappened to him----. See that, Doctor? He was afraid that something wouldhappen."
"He wrote that note the day before Jud threatened to kill him," the blindman said slowly.
Joe thought that Captain Tucker had the look of a man stumbling over arock he had not seen. "Well----." The captain coughed awkwardly. "Whycouldn't Jud have gone to the house several times before that meetingoutside the post office? Certainly he didn't come here planning to loiterin the streets until Boothy appeared. Anyway, the note said if anythinghappened to him to notify his brother, Otis Wilkes, at once."
"Any witnesses to the will?"
"No. Oh, it's in his handwriting. We proved that."
"Who gets his property?"
"This brother, Otis Wilkes."
Dr. Stone said, "I'd like to meet Otis." Joe, sitting taut on the rearseat, had the feeling that his uncle had touched something hidden in thedark. The car halted outside the village lock-up.
"I won't go down with you," Captain Tucker grunted. "He wouldn't talk ifI were there."
"I'll want Joe with me," Dr. Stone said, and a turnkey led man, boy anddog down a damp staircase. It was the first time Joe had ever seen thisforbiddingly bleak corridor of cells, and his heart grew heavy with asick chill. A key rasped in a lock, and the jail attendant threw open aniron-barred door.
"Somebody to see you, Cory."
"I don't want to see nobody," a voice answered harshly.
The blind man said, "Lady, left," and followed the dog into the cell. Joesaw a disheveled youth who sat scowling upon a cot. At sight of them hearose with an air of bravado. The cell door closed.
"What's the idea?" the harsh voice demanded. "Trying to scare me with adog?"
"Nobody's trying to scare you, Jud. Don't you remember me? I'm Dr.Stone."
"Another cop?"
"No," the blind man said gently; "your friend. And here's anotherfriend--Joe Morrow. You ought to remember Joe. He was only a little tykethen, and always followed you when you brought the cows in from pasture."
Joe saw the hard eyes waver. At that moment Jud Cory looked, not themurderous gangster, but a frightened, bewildered, sick-souled boy.
"He always brought me a cake with raisins in it," Jud said huskily. Andthen, like some wild animal touched by danger, the youth had sprung backagainst the wall of the cell. "Hey! Trying to pull soft stuff on me?Nothing doing, I don't talk."
"You've had your share of bitter days, haven't you?" Dr. Stone askedquietly.
The hard eyes wavered.
"I knew your father, Jud. It doesn't seem possible that his son couldbutcher a man for a few dollars."
"It wasn't a few dollars," the lad cried thickly. "It----"
Joe shivered. Then this had really been a murder for a lot of dollars.The youth had choked off the sentence and stood against the stone wallshaken by the appalling significance of what he had said.
"Jud," the blind man said, "don't try to fool me and don't try to foolyourself. You're just a poor, miserable kid who's caught in a squeezethat's too tight for him. Don't you think you ought to tell me."
The chin wasn't a hard chin now. It quivered, tried to steady itself; andsuddenly, like a tree that snaps in a storm, Jud Cory broke. One momenthe stood against the wall, still suspicious, still afraid; the next hewas on the side of his cot, his head in his hands, sobbing.
"You don't know what it's been like in here, Doctor. Everybody telling meI was a murderer and asking what I did with the body. When I said I'dkill him I was mad. I didn't mean it. I tell you, Doctor, I didn't meanit."
The blind man groped across the cell, and sat upon the cot, and one handreached out and rested on the boy's shoulder.
The sobbing had stopped. "We--we lived in the city," came from betweenthe lad's hands, "my pop and me, and pop got sick and they said he shouldgo to the country. I don't know how it happened, but we came to BoothyWilkes'. I liked it there. Then pop died, and that changed everything. Iwas nine then, nine nearly ten, and Wilkes made me do all thechores--said I had to earn my keep. Telling me every day I was a pauperand threatening to send me away to the pauper farm. Then he began toshout and yell that I ate too much. That was when I lit out.
"I went to Philadelphia and sold newspapers. They told me to keep out ofthe way of the cops or they'd slap me in a home because I ought to be inschool. It wasn't so bad in the summer, but in the winter it was tough.Snowy days I wouldn't sell many papers, and maybe I'd have to sleep in ahallway that night."
"How old were you then, Jud?"
"About fourteen."
Joe shot a glance at his uncle. The unruffled tranquillity was gone. Theblind man's face was dark with a bitter wrath.
"I figured I'd go some place where there wouldn't be so much cold, so Ibeat it to California. There I got jobs doing this and that, and gotalong. One day, when I was out of work and feeling pretty low, a manstopped me and asked wasn't I Jud Cory. He said I looked as though I wason my uppers, and I said I was. He said I must have gone through themoney pretty fast, and I asked him what money, and he said he had beencashier for the bank here and that just a few days before my father diedhe was sent for, and went to Wilkes' house, and that my father put ninethousand dollars in Wilkes' account for me. It seemed pop didn't want anydealings with lawyers and courts and thought Wilkes was honest. Maybethis man was telling me straight and maybe he wasn't. I got thinking itover, and it seemed maybe Wilkes had laid it on me heavy so I'd light outand he'd have the money to himself. So I came back here, and the firsttime I spoke to Wilkes I knew it was true."
"How?" Dr. Stone asked.
"By his face."
"What was the name of this man, Jud?"
"I--I don't know. I got so excited I forgot to ask, and when I wentlooking for him afterwards I couldn't find him. Does that make anydifference?"
"I'm afraid so."
Jud Cory's hands went out in a hopeless gesture. "I don't supposeanybody'll believe me." He was up from the cot, frantic, terror-stricken."But I didn't kill him. I didn't."
"I know you didn't," Dr. Stone said quietly. "I've known that for thepast ten minutes."
Serenity had come back upon the blind man. Holding the handle-grip ofLady's harness he followed the dog up the damp stairway to theheadquarters room. There he told Captain Tucker Jud Cory's story.
"A fairy tale," the police captain scoffed. "He got it out of a book orthe movies. Anyway, it doesn't explain the riddle. Where's Boothy Wilkes'body?"
"Let's go to the bank," the doctor suggested.
Again they rode in the police car, and again Lady cautiously conductedher master through the snow. Bryan Smith, president of the bank, admittedthem to his private office and closed the door.
"The Wilkes case, gentlemen?"
Captain Tucker shrugged. "In a way. Cory has burst forth with a wild----"
"Just a moment, Captain," Dr. Stone said sharply. "Mr. Smith, did acashier resign eight or nine years ago?"
"Eight or nine years?" The banker considered. "That would be Herman Lang.He resigned about that time."
"Do you know why he resigned?"
"Yes. He had an offer to join a land development company."
"Where?"
"In California."
Joe saw Captain Tucker's mouth sag, but his uncle's face was impassive.Bryan Smith lowered his voice.
"Ordinarily, gentlemen, we do not discuss our depositors' business.However, there is something I think you should know. Boothy Wilkes drewout five thousand dollars in cash the day he vanished. Cash!"
The sag that had been in Captain Tucker's jaw was gone. Out in the car hespoke a positive judgment.
"There's your motive, Doctor. Find Boothy's body and Cory'll soon tell uswhat he did with the five thousand dollars. Anyway, we all know Boothykept a tight fist on a dime. Suppose he did rob the boy. Is that anyexcuse for murder?"
"You haven't yet proved Jud did commit a murder," the blind man suggestedgently.
"The body?" Captain Tucker snapped an impatient finger. "That's only amatter of time. It couldn't have been taken far."
Outside the village town hall a constable awaited their coming. OtisWilkes, he said, had arrived from Baltimore and was now at the Wilkesfarm. Captain Tucker turned the car about. Fifteen minutes later theyswung into a driveway between trees and skidded to a stop. On the Wilkesporch a thin, wiry man paced back and forth restlessly.
"I'd know him for a Wilkes anywhere," Captain Tucker said in anundertone. "Favors Boothy in looks, only this one's all whiskered. Mindif I use Lady while you're here, Doctor?"
"What for?"
"Clues. She might scent us something."
As they left the car and came toward the house, Joe Morrow had eyes onlyfor the man on the porch. A voice called down to them across the railing.
"Captain Tucker?" The tone carried a high, nasal twang. "Land o' Goshen,I've been a-waitin' for you until I'm like t' freeze." The sentence endedin a choking, sputtering cough. The man spat violently with a burst ofbreath. "Come in; come in out of the cold."
The house, untenanted for a week, was scarcely warmer than the outdoors.But it was the house from which a man had disappeared, and Joe Morrowkept staring about uneasily as though expecting to find a ghost. Theywent into a front room that overlooked some of the land bordering theroad. Here, at least, there was sun.
"Did they get him?" Otis Wilkes demanded. "This Jud Cory?" Speech wasmomentarily halted by that same choking cough, that same sputteringoutburst of breath. "This Jud Cory who killed Boothy."
Joe was conscious of a sudden, intent look on his uncle's face. CaptainTucker answered very, very slowly.
"Did you stop at the police station, or did you come straight to thehouse?"
"To the house, of course. Where else with maybe Boothy lying dead?"
"How did you know he was dead?" Captain Tucker demanded.
"He wrote me, Boothy did." One hand made a frantic reach for the insidepocket of his coat and drew forth a folded paper. "Boothy said it was onhim. Here!"
Captain Tucker read the letter aloud:
Dear Otis: Like as not you'll be surprised to get this letter seeing as we have not seen or heard of each other in twenty years. But when a man feels he is going to be took, it is natural he should turn to his only kin. I have wrote a will leaving everything to you, and you will be notified when necessary. If anything should happen to me sudden, look for Jud Cory. He has made talk of killing me, and I think he is the kind to do it.
Your brother, Boothy.
Captain Tucker folded the letter. "Well, Doctor?" he asked inpoorly-concealed satisfaction.
The blind man's face was inscrutable. "Does a man facing death, a manknown to keep a tight fist on a dime, stop to draw five thousand dollarsin cash from a bank?"
"Boothy was a-tryin' t' buy him off," Mr. Wilkes shrilled.
"How do you know that, Mr. Wilkes?"
"Reasonable, ain't it? Reckon a man would ruther pay five thousanddollars than be laid out stiff. What about Jud Cory?"
"We have him," Captain Tucker answered, "but Boothy's missing. We believehe's been murdered."
"Then why you standin' 'round wastin' time doin' nothin'?" Mr. Wilkes'outburst arose to a tremulous falsetto. "Find him. I'll pay a reward."
"We're starting a search now with the dog," Captain Tucker soothed theagitated man. "If you wish to come along----"
But Mr. Wilkes was seized with a shuddering reluctance. "It ain't fitten'I should, seein' as folks might say I was powerful anxious t' find himso's t' claim the property. Besides----" Straggling hairs again botheredhis mouth, and there was another spell of coughing and sputtering."Besides, I ain't so spry anymore and the cold gits into my bones. I'llset here by the window in the sun an' watch out through the appleorchard."
"It's a fine orchard," Captain Tucker observed.
"Boothy set great store by it," Mr. Wilkes said feelingly. "Blasted thesoil with dynamite before settin' out the trees."
"Coming, Captain?" Dr. Stone asked.
There was an undercurrent to the words. Joe, roused out of hisexpectation of a ghost, saw that the strained lines were gone from hisuncle's mouth and that now the face was placid and serene. The boy knewthe sign. Once more Dr. Stone had touched something hidden in obscurity.Light had come to the brain that lay behind those blind eyes. And so theycame outdoors, to the snow and the frozen ground.
"Careful, Doctor," Captain Tucker warned.
"Lady won't let me
on ice," the doctor answered. "Search, old girl."
The dog winnowed through the snow, back and forth, ever advancing. Thequest took them past the house, on past the summer kitchen. Suddenly theanimal, no longer advancing, began to dig in the snow with her paws.
"She's found something," Joe cried.
Out from under the snow Lady dragged a hat. Captain Tucker seized iteagerly.
"It's Boothy's, Doctor. Here are his initials. B. W."
The doctor asked a question. "Where are we, Joe?"
Joe's throat ached. "On the driveway to the barn."
"Doesn't it strike you as strange, Captain, that Boothy's hat should befound here?"
"What's strange about it? Isn't this the driveway?"
"That's exactly what's strange about it," the blind man answered. "Ifsomebody wanted to dispose of a body would he drag it through the open orwould he seek cover? Might not the hat have been left here to be found?"
But the police officer was absorbed in a fresh discovery. The hat wassodden with snow; and yet, darker than the soak of water, was a stainabove the sweat-band.
"Doctor, there's something on this hat."
"What?"
"Blood."
Dr. Stone's lips formed to a soundless whistle. "Boothy's blood?"
"Why not?"
"Because, Captain, if that had been human blood Lady would have shied,and whimpered, and trembled. She would have called our attention to it,but she would not have brought the hat out to us."
Captain Tucker flared into temper. "Doctor, that's going too far. Even aclever dog is only a dog. We're going back."
The police officer carried the gruesome find to the house. Joe stumbledin the snow. There had been that dark stain near the sweat-band; he hadseen it, and was troubled. Was Uncle David wrong? They crossed the porchand entered the room where Mr. Wilkes waited, and on the instant the mancried out in nasal horror:
"It's Boothy's hat. And there's blood on it."
"I'm going back to the village," Captain Tucker said hurriedly. "I'mcoming back with a crew of men. We'll find what's hidden here. We'll findit if we have to dig up every foot of this farm."
The captain was gone. The outer door closed. Dr. Stone still stood justwithin the room. Outside a motor roared, and suddenly the blind manshouted.
"Tucker! See that Herman Lang comes here as soon as he arrives."
It seemed to Joe that Mr. Wilkes leaped and jerked in every muscle."Lang? What about Herman Lang?" Another fit of sputtering and coughingseized him, and he spat violently. "What about him?"
"Oh!" The doctor's voice was soft. "So you know Herman Lang?"
"Never heerd o' him. Who is he?"
"He's the bank cashier who was at this house the day Jud Cory's fathertrusted Boothy with nine thousand dollars. Jud came here to get thatmoney."
"Bah! A likely tale. What am I supposed to do about it?"
The blind man, holding to the dog's leash, stepped well within the room.Joe edged a little to the side. He had been with his uncle on so manyadventures he had developed an instinct that told him when a trap was tobe sprung. And instinct told him a trap was to be sprung now.
"You might answer a few questions, Mr. Wilkes. You and Boothy hadn't seenor heard from each other in twenty years?"
"Maybe it was twenty-one years."
"Then how did you know Boothy used dynamite to break the hardpan when heset out his orchard. Those trees were planted in the spring of 1920,thirteen years ago."
Joe saw the Adam's apple in the man's throat work convulsively. "Likely Iheard about it somewhere."
"When Tucker came in, how did you know he had Boothy's hat?"
"It must have been Boothy's--Boothy allers wore the same kind."
"How did you know of the blood? You were across the room. You couldn'thave distinguished a stain on a wet hat. Or--" The blind man paused. "Ordid you know, before we left the room, that we were going to come backwith a blood-stained hat?"
Joe could almost feel the man tremble. But no words came from the stark,startled lips.
"Nine thousand dollars," Dr. Stone mused. "Simple interest for elevenyears at six per cent. Five hundred and forty dollars a year. A total,principal and interest, of fourteen thousand nine hundred forty dollars.Sit down, Wilkes."
Mr. Wilkes sat down.
"Make out a check to Jud Cory for fourteen thousand nine hundred fortydollars."
Joe expected shrill, nasal protest. Instead the man sat there, huddled intremulous abjection. By and by the fingers, strong and work-hardened,began to move slowly; and with that Joe saw a look of shrewd, calculatingcunning steal into the eyes. He was like a man who, lost, sees a glimmerof hope.
"Doctor, most likely this Jud Cory's been a-tellin' you a passel o' lies.But it ain't fitten to speak ill o' the dead, and Boothy's my brother andI don't hanker t' have folks a-whisperin' about him and makin' light o'his good name. Tell you what I'll do, Doctor. I'll give this Jud Coryenough to stop his mouth. Likely he'll need it, anyway, t' pay his triallawyer."
"That's kind of you," Dr. Stone said dryly.
Mr. Wilkes wrote a check and pressed it into the blind man's hand.
"It's no more than fair to tell you, Wilkes, that Herman Lang is notexpected here."
With a snarl the man was on his feet. "Give me that check!" Lady gave awarning growl, and on the instant the grasping hand was stayed. Mr.Wilkes shrank back.
"It would be a simple matter to telegraph and bring him East," the doctorsaid pointedly.
As slowly as it had come the shrewd cunning faded out of the man's eyes.He sank back into the chair.
Dr. Stone held out the slip of paper. "How much is it for, Joe?"
"Five thousand dollars, Uncle David." This time it was the boy whotrembled. Five thousand dollars was the amount of cash Boothy Wilkes haddrawn from the bank.
"Signed by whom?"
"By Otis Wilkes."
Without haste the doctor folded the check twice, and tore it into bits.
"Write another check," he ordered quietly. "This time write it forfourteen thousand nine hundred forty dollars. This time sign your ownname. Sign it Boothy Wilkes."
To Joe Morrow the world went topsy-turvy. Through an incredulous haze hesaw a snarling man sign a check and almost hurl it into his uncle's face.As they came out upon the porch with Lady, Captain Tucker's car swunginto the driveway from the road.
"I'll have men here in half an hour. Where's Otis, Doctor?"
"Gone. Boothy's inside."
"Boothy?"
"Otis, if you like that name better," the doctor said pleasantly.
For the second time that day Captain Tucker's jaw sagged. Dr. Stonebrought out his pipe, filled it, and puffed with calm enjoyment.
"You see," he said, "Jud Cory told us the truth. When he arrived with theinformation that he knew of the money that was his, it was like plunginga knife into Boothy's heart. Money has rather been Boothy's god. The wayto save the money came with Jud's threat to kill him that so many personsoverheard. Boothy went to the bank, drew out five thousand dollars, wrotethe will and the note that you found, wrote himself the letter he showedyou, and went to Baltimore to await the results he knew would follow.When it was discovered he was gone people remembered Jud's threat. And soJud was arrested, and you wrote Otis to come on, and the search began fora body that would never be found.
"Boothy had it figured out nicely. As Otis he would have five thousanddollars to live on. There was no hurry. Let Jud Cory stew in jail. Hewould never be tried for murder, for without a corpse no murder could beproved. Public opinion, though, might try Jud for threatening life, orfor disturbing the peace, or for something else. He might even be sent tothe county penitentiary for nine months. All right; let him go. When hewas released he would be so sick of the game, so glad to be at libertyagain, that he'd take the first train out and never come back. And then,after an interval, Boothy would reappear. What story would he have told?Well, he might have claimed a complete loss of memory--aphasia, as it isc
alled. And there he'd be with his nine thousand dollars intact and JudCory gone for good."
Captain Tucker had recovered from his chagrin. "I can see all that now,Doctor. But how did you know he was Boothy? Man, he had me completelyfooled."
"There were several signs," Dr. Stone answered. "An apple orchard, forone; a hat for another. But the real give-away--" He passed the pipeunder his nose and inhaled the aroma of the burning tobacco. "You wearfalse teeth, Captain?"
"What has that to do with it?" Captain Tucker demanded impatiently.
"Took you a while to get used to them, didn't it?"
"Of course."
"There's the answer. Boothy didn't take time to get used to them. Theykept straggling out of place and interfering with his speech."
"What are you talking about?" Captain Tucker cried impatiently. "Falseteeth?"
"No," the blind man said mildly. "False whiskers."
ARM OF GUILT
Hurrying along the shadowed road beside Dr. David Stone and Lady, JoeMorrow was conscious of the hard pounding of his heart against his ribs.The telephone call from Police Captain Tucker had been terse and abrupt,but out of it had come alarm and revelation. The explosion he and hisuncle had heard an hour ago had not been the backfire of an automobile,but the murderous bark of a pistol. And Ira Close, the Foster's hiredman, had been shot, and nine-year-old Billy Foster had been kidnaped. Joegulped. He had seen the small boy at school that afternoon.
Moonlight flooded the yard in the rear of Ben Foster's house, and blackshapes stood out in sharp relief. Pressed against the powerful flanks ofthe dog Joe strained his eyes and made them out: Mr. Foster, agitated,walking back and forth restlessly; Captain Tucker staring hard at theground, and a third man--Why, the third man was Ira Close. The boy gave asuppressed cry.
"He's there, Uncle David."
"Billy?" Dr. Stone asked eagerly.
"No, sir; Ira. Ira wasn't shot badly. It's only his hand. His hand isbandaged."
Dr. Stone said: "Lady, left," and the dog swung them into the Fosteryard. At the sound of their feet on the driveway gravel Mr. Foster gave acry and hurried toward them.
"Thank God, Doctor, you're here. If you can find him, if you can get himback----"
"Are you sure," the doctor broke in quietly, "he hasn't gone to afriend's house and stayed for supper? Small boys sometimes forget to comehome."
Captain Tucker shook his head. "It's kidnaping. We have the ransom note.Five thousand dollars."
"Ten thousand!" Mr. Foster cried wildly. "Fifteen! Any amount, so long ashe comes back unharmed."
"Easy," said Dr. Stone, and took out his pipe and reached into a pocketfor tobacco. Amid the hysterical panic he was controlled, steady. "Ifwe're to get any place we must try to think clearly. When was the boyseen last?"
Captain Tucker answered. "Four o'clock."
"Then we know he wasn't kidnaped until after four. And about eighto'clock you were given a ransom note. That means the kidnapers were inthe neighborhood an hour ago. How did the note get here?"
"It was brought to me," said Mr. Foster.
"Who brought it?"
"Ira."
Dr. Stone's hand came out of his pocket without the tobacco pouch. Joe,startled, saw his uncle's eyes turn, as though by instinct, toward thehired man he could not see. Ira Close, always given to a dull, stupidsullenness, shifted his thick-set, muscular body awkwardly.
"I sent him out to find Billy," Mr. Foster explained. "The boy had beengone since four o'clock when he went out of the house with a plate offood for his rabbits. I thought he might have gone trailing after thatorgan-grinder----"
"What organ-grinder?" Dr. Stone asked sharply.
Again it was Captain Tucker who answered. "A stranger, doctor. Gave hisname as Pasquale Monetti. Came to the police station four days ago andpaid two dollars for a permit. Had a monkey on a chain. The kids havebeen following him all over the village."
The doctor said quietly: "How did you come to get the note, Ira?"
"I went for Billy like Mr. Foster said." The man's voice was a lowrumble. "Down by the Howard's woodlot there's a bang and I know I'mshot."
"The right thumb," said Captain Tucker. "The bullet creased the skin."
"It bled," Ira Close said unemotionally, and Joe saw blood on thehandkerchief-bandage. "He tells me not to move, and ties my arms behind,and puts the note in my pocket."
"He," Dr. Stone said. "What he, Ira?"
"The organ-grinder."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Did you see him?"
"No; I have my back turned. He does not talk our kind of American."
Captain Tucker gave a grunt of exasperation. "That's too thin foridentification. A thousand men within twenty miles might talk with aforeign accent. I can't understand this, Doctor. If somebody wanted touse Ira to carry a message why did they shoot close enough to hit him?"
"I wonder," Dr. Stone said gravely. His hand went into his pocket andthis time came out with the pouch. Slowly, almost leisurely, he filledthe pipe.
Joe Morrow, groping in the dark for light, abruptly grasped the cords ofmemory. "Ira could have known his voice," the boy cried, excited.
"How's that?" Captain Tucker barked.
"I saw Ira talking to the organ-grinder yesterday in front of the bank."
"I asked him about the monkey," Ira said stolidly. "I thought maybe Imight buy one for Billy."
"Why didn't you tell us that?" Captain Tucker flared in a temper. "Herewe're wasting time----"
"And my boy being taken farther away every minute," Mr. Foster groaned insick despair. "Do something! I tell you I can't stand this waiting,waiting! Do something!"
"Perhaps," Dr. Stone said gently, "we have already done something. Howwas Ira tied, Tucker? Tight?"
"I've seen them tied tighter. Didn't have to cut the rope--slipped itdown over his elbows. A botchy job."
"This organ-grinder?"
"Swarthy, with a heavy mustache. Not over four and one-half feet tall andweighing about 135."
"How much do you weigh, Ira?" the doctor asked.
The hired man answered without interest. "One hundred eighty-fivepounds."
Joe, trying to read his uncle's face, found it inscrutable. And yet thequestion meant something. The pipe had gone out; Dr. Stone lighted itagain.
"Let's try to reconstruct this crime, Tucker. At four o'clock Billy leftthe house with feed for the rabbits. After that--a blank. Did he feed therabbits and wander on? Did he ever reach the warren?"
"No," Mr. Foster choked. "Whatever happened to him happened here."
And then, for the first time, Joe saw what lay upon the ground in themoonlight--the shattered pieces of a blue plate, scraps of lettuce andcarrot, and a boy's cap. Evidently, Billy Foster had never reached therabbit warren with the feed. While Captain Tucker described the scene tothe blind man, Joe picked up the cap. Why, they were in full view of thehouse. Could a boy be kidnaped in broad daylight from his own doorstep?
"It couldn't have happened," Captain Tucker insisted testily. "Not here.The place is too open. Probably something startled the boy and he droppedthe plate."
"If he were frightened," Dr. Stone asked mildly, "why didn't he run tothe house? What frightened him? Did whatever happen happen so quicklythat there was no time to run? And then there's something else."
"What?" Captain Tucker snapped.
"The cap. It would take quite a fright to pop a cap off a boy's head."The blind man put the pipe back in his pocket. "You've kept track of thisorgan-grinder, haven't you, Tucker? Where has he been staying?"
"Petey Ring's shack on the river."
"I think," Dr. Stone said, "it might be worth our while to go down towardthe river." A dozen steps toward Captain Tucker's car he paused. "You'dbetter have that finger looked at, Ira. Gun-shot wounds can developlock-jaw."
"Doctors want money," Ira Close said resentfully.
"It's a common failing," the blind man observed p
leasantly.
Joe tingled. Something lay behind those four words. But again the blandface was expressionless.
Petey Ring, unkempt and wrapped in a soiled apron, met them in the frowsypublic room of this river "hotel."
"Cap," he said, "I was just thinking of giving you a buzz. You know thatbird who's been penny snatching with a monk?"
Joe's mouth fell open, and Dr. Stone stopped dead in his tracks.
"Where is he?" Captain Tucker demanded.
"Ask me. I ain't clapped a peeper on him since this morning. Looks to melike he's taken it on the lam. You got a line out for him, Cap?"
The captain shrugged. "Just checking up, Petey. What time did he shoveoff."
"You're asking me? I thought he was out working his graft. Then there's ajabbering from his room, and there's the monk all alone in there throwingfits."
Dr. Stone's voice cut in. "Where's his room?"
Petey, stepping past the dog warily, led the way. The room was a squalorof untidiness. Dirty blankets were tumbled on the army cot bed, and acracked mirror stood upon a paint-chipped dresser. The hand-organ, gaudywith cheap trappings, leaned in a corner and, attached to it by a lightchain was a wizened, wrinkled, black-faced monkey. The animal flew into arage, climbed the length of its chain and, from the top of awindow-casing, shrieked and chattered.
"Ira was right," Captain Tucker said harshly. "And we're too late."
Joe's throat ached. Jolly Billy Foster taken by violence and held forransom! Hidden away in some dark hole, probably, homesick andterror-stricken. He looked at his uncle. The blind man's face had becomeintent.
"This room reeks," Dr. Stone said, "with the stench of cheap shavingsoap. Search it."
"For what?" Captain Tucker asked, puzzled.
"Hair."
Joe, conscious only of the stale stench of the room, marveled that hisuncle could detect the smell of soap. He poked into the corners. Petey,lounging in the doorway, watched the search narrowly.
"What's this bird been pulling, Cap?"
"Kidnaping," Captain Tucker threw at him.
Petey went white. "So help me, Cap. I'm out of it. You ain't got a thingon me. Take my oath. I ain't touching nothing like that. Who'd hesnatch?"
There was no answer. Lady, pawing, had brought a ball of paper out fromunder the bureau. Captain Tucker opened the wad.
"Hair," he said.
"There's blood, too," Joe cried.
The blind man whistled soundlessly. "A shaved off mustache and a cutlip."
"Tried a disguise and marked himself." Captain Tucker bolted for thedoor. They pushed past the alarmed, agitated Petey and left him cryingafter them.
At the railroad station a strange agent, a relief for the regular man,came to the ticket window.
"Did you sell a ticket late this afternoon or this evening to a man witha cut lip?" Captain Tucker barked the question.
"Why, yes." The agent spoke with a slow, maddening drawl. "Short, darkfellow. Couldn't help noticing that lip. Looked as though----"
"How many tickets did he buy?"
"Why, if I recollect, he bought one. Yes; one ticket."
"Where to?"
"Peekskill. Yes; I remember that. Just happens that I have a marrieddaughter in Peek----"
Captain Tucker frothed. "Never mind your family. This is important. Whattrain did he take?"
The agent was galvanized into more rapid speech. "The 6:29."
"Did you see him get on?"
"Yes. Yes; I did. I happened to be looking out the window----"
"Did he get on alone or did he have someone with him. Quick!"
"He got on alone."
No flicker of change showed in Dr. Stone's face, but Captain Tucker wasstaggered. Joe was suddenly wan and bleak. Had they followed the trailthis far only to have it fail them. And then, abruptly, the policecaptain was pounding the grille of the ticket-window with a huge fist.
"What time does that train make Peekskill? In twelve minutes? Get thatkey working. I want that man with the cut lip held. If he doesn't get offthe train have it searched. Give me that telephone."
The captain called Peekskill police. Presently they were out on theplatform and he took off his cap and fanned his face. Green signal lightsblinked out of the darkness down the right of way.
"Doctor, what did he do with the boy?"
"Perhaps he did nothing," the doctor said quietly.
Joe stiffened with new hope. That tone of his uncle's--? But the captain,brooding, was lost in his own thoughts.
"There's a slant to this I don't understand," he said slowly. "That boywas kidnaped in broad daylight. Snapped out of his own yard. How could astranger have brought him through a village where he was known? How couldhe have been taken past his own house out to the road?"
"I have been thinking about that," Dr. Stone admitted. The blind face wasagain intent. "Suppose we go back to the house."
Mr. Foster hurried toward them with pathetic haste. "Any news?"
"The organ-grinder left for Peekskill on the 6:29," Captain Tucker toldhim. "I've telephoned and wired. They'll pick him up when the train getsthere."
"Was Billy with him?"
The captain made a merciful answer. "I'm not sure."
Ira Close came across the yard through the moonlight. "You want me topick up those pieces of plate, Mr. Foster?"
"I'll take care of them, Ira. I--I don't want Mrs. Foster to see them."
"Have you his cap?" Dr. Stone asked with that same understandinggentleness. "I don't believe he was ever taken out to the road. Now,Tucker, if you'll lead me to where the plate was dropped--. Lady,forward."
Joe could feel Ira Close beside him rubbing the injured hand as though itpained, but his eyes were on the man walking beside the dog. They came tothe shattered pieces of crockery. The doctor held the cap to the dog'snose.
"Lady, find," he said quietly.
Joe trembled. What now? Nose to the ground, the great, tawny dog sniffedfor the scent. And then it moved, not toward the road but off to the lefttoward a grove of apple trees. The blind man pulled on the leash and thedog stopped.
"What lies ahead, Foster?"
"The orchard, the barn where Ira has a room in the loft, the chickenruns, the cow shed, and Billy's rabbits."
Captain Tucker exploded. "Doctor, this is getting nowhere. The boy mayhave gone to the rabbits. That's the trail you may be following thisminute."
In the moonlight the sightless eyes were calm. "Aren't you forgetting thebroken plate, Captain? He started out with feed. Why should he go onwithout it?"
Beside him Joe Morrow could feel the hired man still rubbing the hand andhear the soft scraping of flesh along the bandage. The doctor appeared tolisten to something in the night.
"Are you going on?" Mr. Foster cried.
"Tomorrow," the blind man said with that same gentleness. "The nightoffers obstacles. We might miss something we should see."
"But to wait--to wait--" The voice broke.
"We wouldn't hold you in suspense a moment longer than necessary.Tomorrow, at daybreak. Have you the cap, Joe? Don't lose it."
Ira rumbled a heavy "good-night" and passed from the moonlight into theshadow of the orchard. A woman's voice called: "Pa! Pa! Captain Tucker'swanted on the telephone." The captain hurried toward the house. Dr. Stonespoke softly:
"Ira's been with you a long time, Foster?"
"Nine years. Surly, but a good worker. A bit gruffer than usual tonight.Billy was always a little afraid of him; that's probably on his mind. Andthen this shooting and the loss of his money."
"Money?"
"Three hundred dollars. He drew it out yesterday to send to his sisterand carried it in a hip pocket. That's the pocket in which theorgan-grinder put the note. The money's gone."
The blind man's head was thrown back; Joe saw the lips strained and tightonce more. Captain Tucker came out of the house, slowly.
"Bad news," he blurted. "Our man fooled us. Wasn't on the train; slippedoff at one of the way
stations."
Mr. Foster swayed unsteadily. "Don't," he begged hoarsely, "tell Billy'smother."
The policeman walked down the driveway with the doctor. "That Italian mayhave left the train a station or two out, and come back for the boy. I'veordered every road out of the village guarded."
Joe came away with a choking lump in his throat. The blind man, holdingthe harness and walking close to the dog, whistled an almost soundlesswhistle. The boy knew, by this sign, that the brain behind the sightlesseyes had caught a glimmer of light.
Suddenly, without warning, the apple-scented peace of the night wasbroken by a flash and a roar. A whistling whine filled the air.
"Drop!" Dr. Stone cried.
Not until he lay prone in the road did the boy grasp the significance offlash and roar. Somebody had fired on them from ambush. A shudderingchill ran up his spine, and sweat stood out upon his forehead. Themoon-splashed world was silent again, and faintly to his nostrils camethe drift of burnt powder.
Dr. Stone stood up. "Another shot," he called clearly, "and I'll send thedog to tear you down. Come, Joe."
Quaking, Joe stood up. They moved ahead again, and the boy's nerves weretorture-tight as he waited for another flash and roar. But the silenceremained unbroken and they came at last to the welcome protection ofhome.
The boy's voice trembled. "Why did the organ-grinder come back and shootat us?"
"That bullet," Dr. Stone said grimly, "was intended for Lady, not forus." His hand fell upon the dog's head. "Old girl, somebody's afraid youknow too much."
In the chill dark of the following morning the boy and the man gulped hotcoffee in the kitchen. Arising from the table Dr. Stone walked to a deskin the hall, took out a small first-aid kit, and slipped it into apocket. Then man, boy and dog were out in the road, when the first goldenstreak was faint in the eastern sky.
Captain Tucker's car stood in the driveway. Mr. Foster looked as thoughhe had not slept. Ira Close, his right hand wrapped in a handkerchief,went about small chores.
Dr. Stone said: "Could Ira get Lady a drink, Foster?"
Ira brought water in a pan. The blind man, shifting the leash, stumbledagainst the dog and tottered. Joe, with a cry of alarm, sprang forward.But the doctor's arms, outstretched, had gone around the hired man; theyslipped along the stout body, down, down--. He caught himself and stooderect. Ira Close swore morosely and swung an arm.
"That finger?" Dr. Stone asked, concerned. "I warned you. Why didn't youhave a doctor see it?"
"I fixed it myself."
"Nonsense. Here; give it to me."
After a moment of hesitation the hand was held out. Joe watched hisuncle's fingers move as though they had eyes. The tweezers came out ofthe kit. Abruptly the doctor's body was between him and the throbbingwound.
"Fever in here," the blind man said; "infected." Ira Close cried aloud.Joe glimpsed a corner of his uncle's face, intent, strained; then therewas the drip of iodine, and Dr. Stone stepped back. The blind eyes werebland and serene.
"Have Mrs. Foster bandage it," he said.
Ira went into the house. The kitchen door slammed shut, and immediatelytranquility left the doctor.
"Tucker, stay here. Joe, this way. A few minutes, Foster; just a fewminutes."
Back where the broken plate had lain yesterday, Dr. Stone unhooked theleash and gave the dog the scent of the cap.
"Lady, find," he urged. The tawny dog, as though puzzled by the absenceof the leash, looked up inquiringly. "Find," the man said again.
Lady, nose down, padded toward the orchard.
"Take me back, Joe."
The boy had the feeling that they hung in air. Ira Close came out of thehouse with a finger freshly bandaged. Captain Tucker gave an exclamationof surprise.
"Doctor! Where's the dog?"
Lady made her own answer. From some place in the near distance they heardher deep-toned, full-throated, insistent bark.
"Foster," Dr. Stone said quietly, "I think Lady has found your boy."
Two men began to run--Foster toward the orchard, Ira Close toward theroad. To Joe Morrow the world whirled and spun. Dr. Stone cried, "Lookout, Tucker; he has a gun." The policeman leaped, and the hired man wentdown. With amazing quickness brawny arms turned Ira over, and the firstshaft of sunlight glinted on a blue barrel.
"See if there are two exploded cartridges," the doctor called.
Captain Tucker broke the gun. "Two," he said. "What does this mean,Doctor?"
"It means you have your kidnaper."
And so it came that Ira Close, snarling and venomous, sat handcuffed inCaptain Tucker's police car.
"Where's the boy, Doctor?"
"In the barn, most likely. Not a bad idea, was it? Snatch the boy andhide him away three hundred feet from his home. Who'd think of lookingfor him there? Why should anybody look for him there when the hue and cryhad gone out for an organ-grinder who had disappeared after trying todisguise himself?
"Why did Ira do it? You'll have to ask him. The papers have been full ofkidnapings and ransoms. Probably, with a greed for money, he'd beenturning the thing in his mind for a long time. Then came theorgan-grinder, and that brought inspiration. But there was one point,Tucker, you failed to take into account, and that was why I was notsurprised to learn the Italian had boarded the train alone. A man,fleeing after a crime, does not shave off his mustache and leave theclipped hairs behind him to advertise his disguise.
"Ira snapped Billy up yesterday afternoon. The boy had never liked him;there was a momentary struggle. The signs of it lay upon the ground.Probably he hid the boy in the barn loft and gagged him. With the comingof night there was alarm in the Foster home. 'Ira, go see if you can findBilly!' He had anticipated that command. And so he went forth, andmanaged to run a noose up his arms, and came back with the note and acock-and-bull story. He was loosely tied. Did you ever see a captive whowas not tied tightly? For this Italian to tie Ira, a taller man, he wouldhave to put away his gun. Can you picture 185-pound Ira allowing a135-pound stripling, no longer flourishing a pistol, to wind him with arope? It didn't hold together.
"Nor was that the only point where the story didn't hold together. Iramade positive identification of the organ-grinder. He identified himthrough a foreign accent. But he said nothing of a previous meeting untilJoe told of seeing them in conversation. Where had that conversation beenheld? Outside the bank. Not significant in itself, but strikinglysignificant when we find Ira suddenly announcing to Foster that he haddrawn three hundred dollars from the bank to send to his sister and thatit had been stolen from his pocket.
"What's your guess about that three hundred dollars, Tucker? Mine is thatit went to the organ-grinder. The Italian is guilty of no wrong. All heknows is that a stranger offered him three hundred dollars to shave offhis mustache, abandon his organ and monkey, disappear quietly and leavethe train before reaching the station for which he had purchased aticket. Why did Ira tell us about the three hundred dollars? What's yourguess, Tucker? Mine is that he was suddenly touched with a cold fear. Thewithdrawal of the money was a matter of record at the bank. The money wastaken out the day of the kidnaping, the day of the organ-grinder'sdisappearance. These facts might have given rise to a few unpleasantquestions."
Joe, breathless, looked at Captain Tucker. The policeman frowneddoubtfully.
"How about that shot in the finger, Doctor? Do you mean he shot himself?"
"What's your guess?" Dr. Stone asked mildly. "Mine is that, when he wassent out to look for Billy, he fired a shot in the air as anafter-thought. Do you remember, when we got there, that his hand pained?He kept rubbing it as though it throbbed. Infection doesn't set in soquickly, Captain; there must be a period of incubation. He had cut thatfinger earlier in the day. He objected to going to a doctor even after Iwarned him of lock-jaw. Why? Because he didn't fear the lock-jaw that mayfollow a gun-shot wound. Because he knew that no doctor would look atthat wound and believe it came from a bullet. Of course, he let me handleit; but, then, I am blind. He fi
gured I didn't count. My guess is that,in running the rope over his arms, he reopened a wound he had receivedearlier in the day."
"By the Eternal," Captain Tucker burst out, "this seems to be nothing butguesses. You guess this and you guess that. How about a few facts. Wehave placed this man in irons. If Billy isn't found you and I maydiscover ourselves in a sweet peck of trouble."
A voice called from the house: "Captain Tucker! Telephone."
The captain mounted the porch steps. The doctor, fishing out his pipe,methodically stuffed it with tobacco.
"I can't understand," he said musingly, "why you didn't light out lastnight, Ira, after trying to shoot Lady. Afraid to run and lose fivethousand dollars, and afraid to stay and be caught. You were in one sweetpeck of trouble, weren't you, Ira?" Ira said nothing.
"How were you going to work it? Collect the money and then get word tothem where to find the boy?"
The hired man glared in impotent fury.
Captain Tucker, looking slightly dazed, came back to the car. "Theypicked up our Italian in a small village fifteen miles above Peekskill."
"Search him, Captain?"
"Of course."
"Did they," the doctor asked mildly, "find three hundred dollars in hispocket?"
"Three hundred dollars to the penny in one roll." The captain fanned hisface with his uniform cap. Abruptly the motion of the cap stopped. "Lookhere, Doctor; you said you found the first clew in that injured hand."
"The first clew and the last," the doctor told him.
"The last? Did you find something else when you dressed that finger alittle while ago?"
The blind man puffed serenely on the pipe. "I found a nasty cut andsomething foreign imbedded in the cut. It had set up the infection; Icould feel it under the pressure of my fingers. I took it out with thetweezers. Something hard and gritty, Captain. I haven't seen it; it'ssafely stowed away in my pocket. But I'll stake my soul it's a chippedsplinter from a broken blue plate."
At that moment Joe Morrow saw Lady and Mr. Foster emerge from theorchard, and the man carried a small boy in his arms.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
--The copyright notice from the printed edition was preserved, although this book is in the public domain in the country of publication.
--Typographical errors were corrected without comment.
--Nonstandard spellings and dialect were not changed.
Detectives, Inc.: A Mystery Story for Boys Page 8