CHAPTER XIVMIDNIGHT VIGILS
"Well, how is our girl detective progressing in her discovery of crimeand criminals?" asked Colonel Hathaway that evening, as they sat in theliving-room after dinner.
"Don't call me a girl detective, please," pleaded Josie O'Gorman. "I'monly an apprentice at the trade, Colonel, and I have never realizedmore than I do at this moment the fact that I've considerable to learnbefore I may claim membership with the profession."
"Then you're finding your present trail a difficult one to follow?"
"I believe my stupidity is making it difficult," admitted Josie, with asigh. "Father would scold me soundly if he knew how foolishly I behavedto-day. There was every opportunity of my forcing a clew by callingunexpectedly on Mr. Cragg at his office, but he defeated my purpose soeasily that now I'm wondering if he suspects who I am, and why I'mhere. He couldn't have been more cautious."
"He could scarcely suspect that," said the Colonel, musingly. "But I'venoticed that these simple country people are chary of confiding instrangers."
"Ah, if Mr. Cragg were only that--a simple, unlettered countryman, as Ithought him--I should know how to win his confidence. But, do you know,sir, he is well educated and intelligent. Once he studied for thepriesthood or ministry, attending a theological college."
"Indeed!"
"My informant, the village authority--who is Sol Jerrems thestorekeeper--says he objected to becoming a priest at the last becausehe had no leaning that way. My own opinion is that he feared hisungovernable temper would lead to his undoing. I am positive that hishysterical fury, when aroused, has gotten him into trouble many times,even in this patient community."
"That's it," said Mary Louise with conviction; "his temper has oftenmade him cruel to poor Ingua, and perhaps his temper caused unfortunateNed Joselyn to disappear."
"Have you discovered anything more than you have told me?" she asked.
"Not a thing," replied Mary Louise. "I'm waiting for _you_ to makediscoveries, Josie."
"A puzzle that is readily solved," remarked the Colonel, picking up hisbook, "is of little interest. The obstacles you are meeting, Josie,incline me to believe you girls have unearthed a real mystery. It isnot a mystery of the moment, however, so take your time to fathom it.The summer is young yet."
Josie went to her room early, saying she was tired, but as soon as shewas alone and free she slipped on a jacket and stealthily left thehouse. Down the driveway she crept like a shadow, out through thegates, over the bridge, and then she turned down the pathway leading toOld Swallowtail's cottage.
"The stepping-stones are a nearer route," she reflected, "but I don'tcare to tackle them in the dark."
The cottage contained but three rooms. The larger one downstairs was acombination kitchen and dining room. A small wing, built upon one side,was used by Mr. Cragg for his private apartment, but its only outletwas through the main room. At the back was a lean-to shed, in which wasbuilt a narrow flight of stairs leading to a little room in the attic,where Ingua slept. Josie knew the plan of the house perfectly, havingoften visited Ingua during the day when her grandfather was absent andhelped her sweep and make the beds and wash the dishes.
To-night Josie moved noiselessly around the building, satisfied herselfthat Ingua was asleep and that Mr. Cragg was still awake, and thenstrove to peer through the shuttered window to discover what the oldman was doing.
She found this impossible. Although the weather was warm the window wastightly shut and a thick curtain was drawn across it.
Josie slipped over to the river bank and in the shadow of a tree satherself down to watch and wait with such patience as she could muster.It was half past nine o'clock, and Ingua had told her that when hergrandfather was wakeful, and indulged in his long walks, he usuallyleft the house between ten o'clock and midnight--seldom earlier andnever later. He would go to bed, the child said, and finding he couldnot sleep, would again dress and go out into the night, only to returnat early morning.
Josie doubted that he ever undressed on such occasions, knowing, as heno doubt did, perfectly well what his program for the night would be.She had decided that the nocturnal excursions were not due to insomniabut were carefully planned to avoid possible observation. When all thecountryside was wrapped in slumber the old gentleman stole from hiscottage and went--where? Doubtless to some secret place that had animportant bearing on his life and occupation. It would be worth while,Josie believed, to discover the object of these midnight excursions.Ingua claimed that her grandfather's periods of wakeful walking wereirregular; sometimes he would be gone night after night, and then forweeks he would remain at home and sleep like other folks.
So Josie was not surprised when old Swallowtail's light wasextinguished shortly after ten o'clock and from then until midnight hehad not left the house. Evidently this was not one of his "wakeful"periods. The girl's eyes, during this time, never left the door of thecottage. The path to the bridge passed her scarcely five yards distant.Therefore, as Hezekiah Cragg had not appeared, he was doubtlesssleeping the sleep of the just--or the unjust, for all sorts andconditions of men indulge in sleep.
Josie waited until nearly one o'clock. Then she went home, let herselfin by a side door to which she had taken the key, and in a few minuteswas as sound asleep as Old Swallowtail ought to be.
For three nights in succession the girl maintained this vigil, with noresult whatever. It was wearisome work and she began to tire of it. Onthe fourth day, as she was "visiting" with Ingua, she asked:
"Has your grandfather had any sleepless nights lately?"
"I don't know," was the reply. "But he ain't walked any, as hesometimes does, for I hain't heard him go out."
"Do you always hear him?"
"P'r'aps not always, but most times."
"And does he walk more than one night?" inquired Josie.
"When he takes them fits, they lasts for a week or more," assertedIngua. "Then, for a long time, he sleeps quiet."
"Will you let me know, the next time he takes to walking?"
"Why?" asked the child, suspiciously.
"It's a curious habit," Josie explained, "and I'd like to know what hedoes during all those hours of the night."
"He walks," declared Ingua; "and, if he does anything else, it's hisown business."
"I've wondered," said Josie impressively, "if he doesn't visit somehidden grave during those midnight rambles."
Ingua shuddered.
"I wish ye wouldn't talk like that," she whispered. "It gives me thecreeps."
"Wouldn't you like to know the truth of all this mystery, Ingua?"
"Sometimes I would, an' sometimes I wouldn't. If the truth leaked out,mebbe Gran'dad would git inter a lot o' trouble. I don't want that,Josie. I ain't no cause to love Gran'dad, but he's a Cragg an' I'm aCragg, an' no Cragg ever went back on the fambly."
It seemed unwise to urge the child further to betray her grandfather,yet for Ingua's sake, if for no other reason, Josie was determined touncover the hidden life of Hezekiah Cragg.
The following night she watched again at her station by the river bank,and again the midnight hour struck and the old man had not left hiscottage. His light was extinguished at eleven o'clock. At twelve-thirtyJosie rose from the shadow of the tree and slowly walked to the bridge.There, instead of going home, she turned in the direction of the town.
In the sky were a few stars and the slim crescent of a new moon,affording sufficient light to guide her steps. Crickets chirped andfrogs in the marshes sang their hoarse love songs, but otherwise anintense stillness pervaded the countryside. You must not consider JosieO'Gorman an especially brave girl, for she had no thought of fear insuch solitary wanderings. Although but seventeen years of age, she hadbeen reared from early childhood in an atmosphere of intrigue andmystery, for her detective father had been accustomed to argue hiscases and their perplexities with his only child and for hours at atime he would instruct her in all the details of his profession. It wasO'Gorman's ambition that his daughter m
ight become a highly proficientfemale detective.
"There are so many cases where a woman is better than a man," he wouldsay, "and there is such a lack of competent women in this important andfascinating profession, that I am promoting the interests of both mydaughter and the public safety by training Josie to become a gooddetective."
And the girl, having been her father's confidant since she was able towalk and talk, became saturated with detective lore and only neededpractical experience and more mature judgment fully to justifyO'Gorman's ambition for her.
However, the shrewd old secret service officer well knew that the girlwas not yet ready to be launched into active service. The experienceshe needed was only to be gained in just such odd private cases as theone on which she was now engaged, so he was glad to let her come toCragg's Crossing, and Josie was glad to be there. She was only contentwhen "working," and however the Cragg mystery developed or resulted,her efforts to solve it were sure to sharpen her wits and add to herpractical knowledge of her future craft.
When she reached the town she found it absolutely deserted. Not a lightshone anywhere; no watchman was employed; the denizens of Cragg'sCrossing were all in bed and reveling in dreamland.
Josie sat on the bottom stair of the flight leading to the store andremoved her shoes. Upstairs the family of Sol Jerrems and Miss Huckinsthe dressmaker were sleeping and must not be disturbed. The girl madeno sound as she mounted the stairs and softly stole to the door of H.Cragg's real estate office. Here it was dark as could be, but Josiedrew some skeleton keys from her pocket and slid them, one by one, intothe lock. The fourth key fitted; she opened the door silently andhaving entered the room drew the door shut behind her.
The thick shade was drawn over the window. It was as black here as itwas in the hallway. Josie flashed a small searchlight on the door ofthe connecting room and saw that it was not only locked in the ordinarymanner but that the padlock she had noted on her former visit to theroom was now inserted in the hasp and formed an additional securityagainst intrusion.
While her electric spotlight played upon this padlock she bent over andexamined it swiftly but with care.
"A Yale lock," she muttered. "It can't be picked, but it will delay mefor only a few minutes."
Then from her pocket she brought out a small steel hack-saw, and as shecould not work the saw and hold the flashlight at the same time shewent to the window and removed the heavy shade. The light that now cameinto the room was dim, but sufficient for her purpose. Returning to thedoor of the mysterious inner room, the contents of which she haddetermined to investigate, she seized the padlock firmly with one handwhile with the other she began to saw through the steel loop thatpassed through the hasp.
The sound made by the saw was so slight that it did not worry her, butanother sound, of an entirely different character and coming from thehallway, caused her to pause and glance over her shoulder.
Slowly the outer door opened and a form appeared in the doorway. It wasa mere shadow, at first, but it deliberately advanced to the table,struck a match and lighted a small kerosene lamp.
She was face to face with Old Swallowtail.