Swamp Island
CHAPTER 9 _THE WIDOW JONES_
Caleb Corners scarcely was a stopping point on the narrow, dusty, countyhighway.
By night the crossroads were dark and gloomy, unlighted even by a trafficsignal. To the right stood a filling station, and directly across fromit, a little grocery store, long since closed for the day.
Salt turned in at the filling station, halting the press car almost atthe doorway of the tiny office.
Inside, a young man who was counting change at a cash register, turnedsuddenly and reached for an object beneath the counter. As Salt came in,he kept his hand out of sight, regarding the photographer with suspicion.
"Relax, buddy," said Salt, guessing that the station owner fearedrobbery. "We're from the _Riverview Star_ and need a little information."
"What do you want to know?" The young man still kept his hand beneath thecounter.
"We're looking for a friend of ours who may have come out here a fewminutes ago in a taxi."
"No cab's been through here in the last hour," the filling station mansaid. "This is a mighty lonesome corner at night. I should have closed uphours ago, only I'm expecting a truck to fill up here."
"Why not put that gun away?" Salt suggested pointedly. "We're not here torob you. Do we look like crooks?"
"No, you don't," the man admitted, "but I've been taken in before. Thisstation was broken into three times in the past six months. Only twoweeks ago a man and woman stopped here about this same time ofnight--they looked okay and talked easy, but they got away with $48.50 ofmy hard earned cash."
"We really are from the _Star_," Penny assured him. "And we're worriedabout a friend of ours who slipped away from the hospital tonight. He wasin an accident and wasn't entirely himself. He may get into serioustrouble if we don't find him."
Her words seemed to convince the filling station man that he had nothingto fear. Dropping the revolver into the cash drawer, he said in a morefriendly tone:
"I guess you folks are on the square. Anyway, you wouldn't get much ifyou robbed the till tonight. I only took in $37.50. Not enough to pay mefor keeping open."
"You say a cab hasn't been through here tonight?" Salt asked impatiently.
"There's been cars through, but no taxi cabs."
"Where do these roads lead?"
"One takes you to Belle Plain and on to Three Forks. The other doesn't gomuch of anywhere--just on to the swamp."
"Any houses on the swamp road?" Salt inquired.
"An old trapper has a place up there, and the Hawkins' farm is on apiece. Closest house from here is the Widow Jones'."
"How far?"
"Oh, not more than three--four miles."
"Mrs. Jones drives a car?" Salt asked casually.
"Her?" The filling station man laughed. "Not on your life! She has an oldrattle-trap her husband left her when he died, but she doesn't take itout of the shed often enough to keep air in the tires."
Penny and Salt inquired the way to the widow's home.
"You can't miss it," replied the station man. "Straight on down the swamproad about three miles. First house you come to on the right hand side ofCrissey Road. But you won't likely find the widow up at this hour. Shegoes to bed with the chickens!"
On the highway once more, Salt and Penny debated their next move. Jerry'sfailure to show up at Caleb Corners only partially relieved theiranxiety. Now they could only speculate upon whether the reporter hadremained in Riverview or had driven past the filling station withoutbeing seen.
"Since we've come this far, why not go on to the Widow Jones' place?"Salt proposed. "She may have seen Jerry. In any case, we can question herabout that car she owns."
Bumping along on the rutty road, they presently rounded a bend and on asideroad saw a small, square house which even in its desolation had alook of sturdy liveability.
"That must be the place," Salt decided, slowing the car. "No lights so Iguess she's abed."
"I see one at the rear!" Penny exclaimed. "Someone is up!"
With a jerk, Salt halted the car beside a mailbox which stood on a highpost. A brick walk, choked with weeds, led to the front door and aroundto a back porch.
Through an uncurtained window, the pair glimpsed a tall, wiry womanfilling an oil lamp in the kitchen.
As Salt rapped on the door, they saw her start and reach quickly for ashotgun which stood in a corner of the room.
"Who's there?" she called sharply.
"We're from Riverview," answered Penny.
Reassured by a feminine voice, the woman opened the door. She toweredabove them, a quaint figure in white shirtwaist and a long flowing blackskirt which swept the bare floor of the kitchen.
"Good evening," said Penny. "I hope we didn't startle you."
Slowly the widow's eyes traveled over the pair. She laid the shotgunaside and then said evenly:
"'Pears like you did. Hain't in the habit o' having visitors this time o'night. Whar be ye from and what do you want?"
Salt told of their search for Jerry, carefully describing the reporter.
"Hain't seen anyone like that," the Widow Jones said at once. "No onebeen by on this road since sundown 'cepting old Ezekiel Hawkins."
"By the way, do you drive a car?" Salt questioned.
"Not if I kin keep from it," the widow retorted. "Cars is the ruinationo' civilization! Last time I tried to drive to town, backed square into abig sycamore and nigh onto knocked all my teeth out!"
"So you sold your car?" Salt interposed.
"It's a settin' out in the shed. That no-good young'un o' Ezekiel's, CoonHawkins, tried to buy it off'en me a year ago, but I turned him downflat."
"Didn't he offer enough?" Penny asked curiously.
"'Twasn't that. Fust place, I don't think much o' Coon Hawkins! Secondplace, that car belonged to my departed husband, and I don't aim nobodyelse ever will drive it."
"Then you didn't have the car out today or loan it to anyone?"
"No, I didn't! Say, what you gittin' at anyway with all these questions?"
"Your car was involved in an accident this afternoon in Riverview," Saltexplained.
"What you sayin'?" the woman demanded. "You must be out o' yer mind! Mycar ain't been out of the shed fer a month."
"We may have been mistaken," Penny admitted. "The license number of thecar was K-4687."
"Why, that's the plate number of mine!" the Widow Jones exclaimed."Leastwise, I recollect it is!"
"You're certain the car still is in the shed?" Salt asked.
"You got me all confused now, and I hain't cartain of anything. Come inwhile I get a lantern, and we'll look!"
Penny and Salt stepped into a clean kitchen, slightly fragrant with theodor of spicy catsup made that afternoon. On a table stood row upon rowof sealed bottles ready to be carried to the cellar.
The Widow Jones lighted a lantern and threw a woolen shawl over her bonyshoulders.
"Follow me," she bade.
At a swift pace, she led the way down a path to a rickety shed whichstood far back from the road.
The woman unfastened the big door which swung back on creaking hinges.Raising her lantern, she flashed the light on the floor of the shed.
"Hit's gone!" she exclaimed. "Someone's stole the car!"
Only a large blotch of oil on the cracked concrete floor revealed wherethe automobile had stood.
"Have you no idea who took the car?" Penny inquired.
Grimly the Widow Jones closed the shed door and slammed the hasp intoplace.
"Maybe I have an' maybe I han't! Leastwise, I larned forty years ago tokeep my lips shut less I could back up my words with proof."
In silence the widow started back toward the house. Midway to the house,she suddenly paused, listening attentively.
From a nearby tree an owl hooted, but Penny and Salt sensed that was notthe sound which had caught the woman's ear.
She blew out the lantern and wordlessl
y motioned for the pair to moveback into the deep shadow of the tree.
Holding her shirt to keep it from blowing in the night breeze, the womangazed intently toward a swamp road some distance from the boundary of herland. For the first time, Salt and Penny became aware of a muffled soundof a running truck motor.
"Sounds like a car or truck back there in the swamp," Salt commented. "Isthere a road near here leading in?"
"There's a road yonder," the widow answered briefly.
"It goes into the swamp?"
"Only for a mile or so."
"What would a truck be doing in there at this time of night?" Pennyprobed.
"I wouldn't know," answered the widow dryly. "There's some things goes onin this swamp that smart folkses don't ask questions about."
Without relighting the lantern, she walked briskly on. Reaching the rearporch, she paused and turned once more to Salt and Penny.
"I be much obliged to ye comin' out here to tell me about my car beingstole. Will ye come in and set a spell?"
"Thanks, we'll have to be getting back to Riverview," Salt declined theinvitation. "It's late."
"You'll catch your death if you stay out in this damp swamp air," thewoman said, her gaze resting disapprovingly on Penny's flimsy dress andlow-cut slippers. "I'd advise you to git right back to town. 'Evenin' toyou both."
She went inside and closed the door.
"Queer character," Salt commented as he and Penny made their way to theroadside, "Forthright to say the least."
"I rather liked her, Salt. She seemed genuine. And she has courage tolive here alone at the edge of the swamp."
"Sure," the photographer agreed. "Plenty of iron in her soul. Wonder whatshe saw there at the edge of the swamp?"
"It seemed to me she was afraid we might try to investigate. Did younotice how she advised us to go directly to Riverview?"
"She did make the remark a little pointed. The Widow Jones is nodumbbell! You could tell she has a good idea who stole her auto, and shewasn't putting out anything about that truck."
Salt had started the car and was ready to turn around. Penny placed adetaining hand on the steering wheel.
"Let's go the other direction, Salt!"
"On into the swamp?"
"It's only a short distance to that other road. If the truck is stillthere, we might see something interesting."
Salt's lips parted in a wide grin.
"Sure thing," he agreed. "What have we got to lose?"