CHAPTER VII.
WE ORGANIZE.
We had not been long in Trafton before our reputation as thoroughly goodfellows was well established, "each man after his kind."
Carnes entered with zest into the part he had undertaken. He was hailfellow well met with every old bummer and corner loafer; he made himselfacquainted with all the gossippers and possessed of all the gossip ofthe town.
After a little he began to grow somewhat unsteady in his habits, andunder the influence of too much liquor, would occasionally make remarks,disparaging or otherwise as the occasion warranted, concerning me, andso it came about that I was believed to be a young man of wealth, thepossessor of an irascible temper, but very generous; the victim of awoman's falseness;--but here Carnes always assured people that he didnot know "the particulars," and that, if it came to my ears that he had"mentioned" it, it would cost him his place, etc.
These scraps of private history were always brought forward by, ordrawn out of, him when he was supposed to be "the worse for liquor." Inhis "sober" moments he was discreetness itself.
So adroitly did he play his part that, without knowing how it cameabout, Trafton had accepted me at Carnes' standard, and I found my waymade smooth, and myself considered a desirable acquisition to Traftonsociety.
I became acquainted with the lawyers, the ministers, the countyofficials, for Trafton was the county seat. I was soon on a socialfooting with the Brookhouses, father and son. I made my bow before thefair owner of the treasure-ship jewels; and began to feel a genuineinterest in, and liking for, Dr. Bethel, who, according to Jim Long, was_not_ Trafton style.
Thus fairly launched upon the Trafton tide, and having assured ourselvesthat no one entertained a suspicion of our masquerade, we began to lookmore diligently about us for fresh information concerning thedepredations that had made the town attractive to us.
Sitting together one night, after Carnes had spent the evening at anespecially objectionable saloon, and I had returned from a small socialgathering whither I had been piloted by one of my new acquaintances, webegan "taking account of stock," as Carnes quaintly put it.
"The question now arises," said Carnes, dropping his Hibernianisms, andtaking them up again as his enthusiasm waxed or waned. "The question isthis: What's in our hand? What do wee's know? What do wee's surmise, andwhat have wee's got till find out?"
"Very comprehensively put, old fellow," I laughed, while I referred toa previously mentioned note book. "First, then, what do we know?"
"Well," replied Carnes, tilting back his chair, "we know more than monya poor fellow has known when he set out to work up a knotty case. Weknow we are in the field, bedad. We know that horses have been stolen,houses broken open, robberies great and small committed _here_. We knowthey have been well planned and systematic, engineered by a cute head."
Carnes stopped abruptly, and looked over as if he expected me to finishthe summing up.
"Yes," I replied, "we knew all that in the beginning; now for what wehave picked up. First, then, just run your eye over this memorandum; Imade it out to-day, and, like a love letter, it should be destroyed assoon as read. Here you have, as near as I could get them, the names ofthe farmers who have lost horses, harness, buggies, etc. Here is theaverage distance of their respective residences from the town, and theirdirections. Do you see the drift?"
Carnes rubbed the bridge of his nose; a favorite habit.
"No, be the powers," he ejaculated; "St. Patrick himself couldn't seethe sinse o' that."
"Very good. Now, here is a map of this county. On this map, one by one,you must locate those farms."
"Bother the location," broke in Carnes, impatiently. "Serve it up in anutshell. What's the point?"
"The point, then, is this," drawing the map toward me. "The places wherethese robberies have been committed, are all in certain directions.Look; east, northeast, west, north; scarce one south, southeast, orsouthwest. Hence, I conclude that these stolen horses are run into somerendezvous that is not more than a five hours' ride from the scene ofthe theft."
"The dickens ye do!" muttered Carnes, under his breath.
"Again," I resumed, perceiving that Carnes was becoming deeplyinterested, and very alert, "the horses, etc., have been stolen frompoints ten, twelve, twenty miles, from Trafton; the most distant, so faras I have found out, is twenty-two miles."
"Ar-m-m-m?" from Carnes.
"Now, then, let us suppose the robbers to be living in this town. Theyleave here at nine, ten, or later when the distance is short. They ridefleet horses. At midnight, let us say, the robbery is committed. Thehorses must be off the road, and safe from prying eyes, before morning,and must remain _perdu_ until the search is over. What, then? Thequestion is, do the robbers turn them over to confederates, in order toget safely back to the town under cover of the night; or, is thehiding-place so near that no change is necessary?"
I paused for a comment, but Carnes sat mute.
"Now, then," I resumed, "I am supposing this lair of horse-thieves tobe _somewhere_ south, or nearly south, of the town, and not more thanthirty miles distant."
"Umph!"
"I suppose it to be south, or nearly south, for obvious reasons. Don'tyou see what they are?"
"Niver mind; prache on."
"No horses have been taken from the south road, or from any of the roadsthat intersect it from this. I infer that it is used as an avenue ofescape for the marauding bands. Consequently--"
"We must make the acquaintance of that north and south highway," brokein Carnes.
"Just so; and we must begin a systematic search from this out."
"System's the word," said Carnes, jerking his chair close to the table,upon which he planted his elbows. "Now, then, let's organize."
"System's the word," said Carnes, jerking his chair closeto the table, upon which he planted his elbows. "Now, then, let'sorganize."--page 76.]
It was nearly daybreak before we knocked the ashes from our pipes,preparatory to closing the consultation, and when we separated torefresh ourselves with a few hours' sleep, we were so thoroughly"organized" that had we not found another opportunity for privateconsultation during our operations in Trafton, we could still have goneon with the programme, as we had that night arranged it, without fear ofblunder or misunderstanding.
* * * * *
"You came down upon me so sudden and solemn with your statistics andall that, last night," said Carnes, the following morning, "that Ientirely forgot to treat you to a beautiful little Trafton vagary I wassaving for your benefit. They _do_ say that the new doctor is suspectedof being a _detective_!"
"What!" I said, in sincere amazement; "Carnes, that's one of Jim Long'snotions."
"Yis, but it isn't," retorted Carnes. "I haven't seen Jim Long this day.D'ye mind the chap ye seen me in company with last evening early?"
"The loutish chap with red hair and a scarred cheek?"
"That's him; well, his name is Tom Briggs, and he's a very close-mouthedfellow when he's sober; to-day he was drunk, and he told me inconfidence that _some_ folks looked upon Dr. Bethel as nothing more norless than a detective, on the lookout for a big haul and a big reward."
"What is this Briggs?"
"He's a sort of a roust-about for 'Squire Brookhouse, but the 'squiredon't appear to work him very hard."
"Carnes," I said, after a moment of silence between us, "hadn't youbetter cultivate Briggs?"
"Like enough I had," he replied, nonchalantly. Then turning slowlyuntil he faced me squarely "If I were you, I would give a littleattention to _Dr. Bethel_."
Out of a Labyrinth Page 7