Quintus Oakes: A Detective Story

  _CHAPTER XV_

  _The Ruse_

  After all, however, the doctor and I decided to spend the night at thehotel and acquire any information that we could as to occurrences intown.

  We chose to walk along the River Road to the Corners, keeping ourselveson the alert for any treachery. The night was cool and bracing and thesky cloudless. As we journeyed, the moon rose, throwing its rays athwartthe tangled outline of the wood. The great high trees were justbeginning to drop their leaves. Occasionally a woody giant, separatedfrom the rest, would fix our attention, standing silhouetted against thebackground of forest--majestic, alone, like a sentinel guarding thethousands in column behind. An occasional flutter of a night bird or thefalling and rustling of the dead leaves was all that we heard as wewalked rapidly the mile to the Corners.

  As we were about to round into the Highway and leave the forest of theestate behind us, Moore grasped my arm, and led me to the deep shadow ofa tree by the roadside.

  "Hark! That sounds peculiar," he said. We listened, and heard a thumpingsound, repeated at intervals.

  "An uneasy horse standing somewhere in the woods hereabouts," said I.

  "Yes. What is he doing there at this time of night--and in _theseparticular_ woods?"

  We consulted together and waited. Then, having satisfied ourselves thatthe noise came from the woods of the estate near the crest of the hill,we decided to investigate as quickly as possible, and entered the foreststealthily and with but little noise. Unused to the life of the woods,we doubtless made more rustling than was necessary, but we were favoredby the fact that the trees were not very close together, and inconsequence the carpet of dead leaves was not thick.

  Halting behind the trunks of trees occasionally, we listened for thesound which came from further within the wood. Soon we came to anopening--a glade--perhaps two hundred feet from the road. The moonlightfell upon the far side, but on the side next us all was shadow--dark andsombre. We stood well within it among the trees. I fancied I heard ahorse whinny. The animal was certainly restive. I saw the doctor takeout his revolver and lie carefully down behind a tree; I remainedstanding. We both waited; we were within a few feet of one another, butdid not speak.

  Suddenly, on the far side we saw a figure walking towards the shade andheard him say a few words to the horse. Quickly he led the animal awayinto what appeared to be a path. Moore whispered to me: "Watch the road;he is going there."

  We retraced our steps and soon saw the horse appear on the edge of thewood. He was a large, powerful animal, and seemed to act as though heunderstood what was expected of him. The man was still leading thehorse, but was now also speaking in a low voice to someone else, whodisappeared toward the town and came out on the Highway further down,walking rapidly toward the village, as any belated citizen might.

  "See!" said Moore. "He brought the horse and is going back. Watch therider."

  The latter had been standing in the shade looking after the man who hadgone, when suddenly, seeming satisfied that he was not watched, hevaulted into the saddle. He came out into the moonlight in a second ortwo and rode rapidly up River Road, past the Corners and northward awayfrom the town. We had managed to get near the road, and as he dashedinto the open we saw that he held the reins with the left hand, hisright resting on the horse's neck, and in it, as we both recognized, arevolver.

  "A splendid rider," was my remark.

  "Yes," said Moore. "Did you recognize him? It was Mike, I thought."

  "Yes, Mike it was, and acting in a very suspicious manner. He has donethis before, evidently--knew the road and the horse, and was on thelookout for trouble, for he was armed."

  We decided to follow the first man, it being useless to attempt toovertake the rider. Taking the darkest side of the road, we walked onafter the figure in the distance.

  Soon my companion's spirits began to rise and he laughed at our_adventure_, as he called it.

  "Stone, I cannot help thinking that you and I are destined to becomegreat sleuths. We have been away from the Mansion only a shorthalf-hour, and already have detected a man on horseback who is carryinga revolver--and have identified him as Mike."

  "Yes, we're improving--but why did you lie down behind that tree?Afraid?"

  "No!" answered Moore, with a laugh. "I have been studying caution. Iwant to see Broadway again." Then he continued: "Stone, this adventureis becoming more and more complicated, and occasionally I wonder if Iwas not foolish in coming here. It is so different from practisingsurgery--this being assaulted by invisible foes--seeing victims ofmurder and things like that, to say nothing of men chasing one anotherby moonlight."

  He was half-serious, and I acknowledged that the affair _was_ rathernerve wearing. Then we looked ahead, and suddenly realized that thefigure we were following had vanished.

  Moore gasped in astonishment. "Hang it all! we certainly are a pair ofapes to let that fellow get away. Won't Oakes be disgusted?"

  "Yes, and he will have good cause."

  The lesson was a needful but costly one. Thenceforth when on business weceased to discuss our feelings and endeavored to use our eyes and earsmore, and our tongues less.

  We received a cordial welcome from the people at the hotel and gossipedaround the corridor for some time. The crowd outside was sullen, butwithin the atmosphere seemed less strained. We learned that Chief Hallenhad made several arrests that afternoon, a measure which had had asobering effect. The saloons had been warned not to abuse theirprivileges. Many persons spoke of the work done by Hallen as excellent;indeed, we were both impressed by the fact that the sentiment towardhim, of the better citizens, was friendly. Considerable disgust wasexpressed, however--privately, of course--at the lack of evidence, sofar, bearing upon the murder itself. In the course of the evening wemanaged to see Reilly the porter, and he pointed out several men to us.

  "These fellows are new in town--they must be detectives. If theydiscover things, well and good; but if they don't, the people here won'tstand it--they will resent what they call 'outside' work."

  "Hallen must have gone in for business," said I.

  Reilly grew confidential. "No, it ain't Hallen, they say. There's a lotof talk about some New York man coming up here to run things."

  "Who?"

  "Oh, they say that Quintus Oakes--you've heard of him, of course--iscoming soon, and these are some of his men."

  "Indeed!" And Moore and I exchanged glances.

  "But, say," continued the porter, "that is confidential; only we fellowsround here know it."

  We parted from Reilly. Moore said: "If they know about it in here, ofcourse half of the town has heard already."

  "Yes. The tale was doubtless started by Hallen as a great secret; heknew it would spread."

  "Evidently Oakes has not been recognized by the people as yet."

  "No," I rejoined, "but the fact that the rumor is out shows to my mindthat Hallen and Oakes have some little scheme on hand. At any rate, wemust know nothing of Oakes; remember that he is _Clark_ to all but aselect few."

  We decided to go to one of the newspaper offices, after a brief call onChief Hallen, who gave us no news of value, but was nevertheless veryagreeable. He advised us to see Dowd, and gave us a note to him. Wefound the newspaper man at his office, just finishing his night's work.He was very attentive in furnishing us back copies of his rival's paper,the "Daily News." He said he kept them filed as samples of "daringjournalism." "I have only been a couple of years in this business, but Ihave the pedigree of the town in these newspapers. I got them frompeople who had saved them--as country people will. Skinner would notsell me any--the rascal. Whenever he grows fresh and criticises thingsimproperly, I investigate what he has previously said on the subject andthen publish a deadly parallel column. He has a rather poor memory--andI worry him once in a while," he remarked with a laugh.

  We found the paper which corresponded in date to the piece we had takenfrom the robe. There was a full account of the murder of Smith, which weread, but nothing that
seemed to us of any value. On that occasion noclues whatever had been found. _Only_, again the local physicians hadthought the wound was made by a large ball.

  The old chief of that time had been succeeded by Hallen, who had neverbeen able to gain any definite clue to the murderer. The interest hadthen died out, and the mystery became a thing of the past.

  Dowd discussed the similarity of the recent murder to that of Smith, andhinted, moreover, that he knew the identity of our friend Clark. He saidHallen had made a confidant of him, as he might want to make use of hisnewspaper.

  "By the way, speaking of the old murder, there is something that hasnever been published, but which some of the old codgers about here havecherished as perhaps relating to it."

  "What is it?" asked the doctor.

  "Well, a couple of old men who have since died, both milkmen, used tosay that once or twice they had seen a woman near the scene of themurder at that hour in the morning. Also, that she always ran into thewoods, and was dressed in black."

  "Who were those old men?"

  "Well, they were both reliable fellows. Their tales were laughed at, sothey refused to discuss the matter any more. They both claimed to haveseen her at a distance, however; and since they were on differentwagons, their stories seemed to corroborate each other."

  We expressed our great interest in the news, and Dowd advised us to seeReilly the porter, who had heard the story of the woman from the menthemselves.

  We returned to the hotel, feeling much elated at the courtesy of Dowdand at the prospect of learning something not generally known, andbearing upon the murder.

  Soon we managed to find Reilly. He came to our rooms on the excuse thatwe had some orders to give concerning baggage that had not yet arrivedfrom New York.

  The porter was decidedly intelligent, having been reduced to hispresent position through adversity, as we already knew. It took only alittle questioning to elicit his story, which he told about as follows:

  "You see, gentlemen, about the time of Smith's murder the milkmen werein the habit of watering their horses at an old fountain just by ourcurb, but since done away with.

  "Well, about two weeks before Smith was murdered, one of the milkmen,Moses Inkelman, a driver for a large farm north of here, told me that hehad that morning seen a very large woman on the crest of the hill as hewas driving to town. She was seemingly anxious to avoid notice andstepped into the woods as he passed by. Moses asked me if I thought shewas anyone from Mona. He seemed so curious about the matter that severalwho had heard his story laughed at him. He was very sensitive and didnot mention the episode again until after the murder--long after, Iremember--and then only to me, when he said: 'If these people would onlystop making fun of a Jew, and believe me, they might learn something.'He disappeared a little while afterward, and we learned from hissuccessor that he had suddenly died of heart disease, on the farm.

  "The other milkman never told his story save to a few--one night aroundthe stove in a grocery store. The others were inclined to scoff at him;but I remembered what Moses had told me, and saw this fellow, Sullivan,alone.

  "It was about a year after the affair. He said that he had seen awoman's figure lurking around the crest of the hill on two differentoccasions before the murder."

  "Did he say anything about her appearance?" I asked.

  "No. He said he never came very near to her, but he saw that she alwayswore black, and ran very heavily. He thought she was one of the drunkencreatures that sometimes infest the water front on Saturday nights.

  "You see, gentlemen, there were more factories here then, and the townwas tougher than it is now, especially along the railroad and shorewhere the canal-boats came in. The new piers farther down the river havechanged all that. Sullivan told his story to the police, but they sawnothing in it, or pretended they didn't; so Sullivan shut up."

  "What became of him?" Moore asked.

  "Well, sir, that's the curious part of it, to my mind. He was found deadonly a short time ago on River Road, 'way down near Lorona, and therewere marks on his throat and blood in his mouth. The examiner said hehad had a hemorrhage and had choked to death, scratching himself in hisdying struggles. But----"

  "Well, continue," commanded Moore.

  "Gentlemen, I believe he was murdered."

  "Why, what makes you think so?" I asked.

  "I saw the body at the undertaker's in Lorona, gentlemen, and the markson the neck were not only scratches, but black and blue patches. Theexaminer was a drunkard himself and not a good reasoner. I always hadthe idea that the milkman was choked to death by the woman because hehad seen her.

  "And the other fellow, Moses--I think he was done away with likewise,"continued Reilly. "I tell you, gentlemen, there is more to all this thanis perhaps wise to know, unless one keeps pretty quiet."

  We tipped Reilly a good fee and then turned in for the night in a mostuncomfortable frame of mind. As Moore said: "things are coming up sorapidly here that we will all be twisted before long."

  Our visit to the town had so far proved more valuable than we had hopedfor, and we both wished that Oakes could have been with us. Severaltimes in the night I awoke, and each time heard footsteps passing to andfro, and subdued voices in the corridor downstairs, and could butreflect how very different this was from the usual quietude of such aplace.

  When we arose in the morning, Moore remarked that he never knew of sucha noisy hotel in a small town.

  "Guess the place is going to give me nervous prostration pretty soon, ifthings keep up like this," said he.

  While we were at breakfast, Chief Hallen walked in and sat down besideus in a rather pompous manner, I thought. He seemed desirous of callingattention to himself. "Well, gentlemen," he said in a quiet enough way,"don't be taken aback at anything you may witness to-day. You may havea surprise. I want you to meet me in the hotel corridor soon and see whocomes on the nine o'clock train."

  He bade us adieu, and walked out in an unnaturally aggressive manner.

  "He's showing off like a schoolboy," said I.

  "Or else acting," corrected Moore.

  We sat down in the corridor by and by. Hallen was talking with the clerkat the desk. The hangers-on were numerous and wore an air of expectancy;they were waiting for some one.

  The rickety old carriage from the station arrived at this moment, andthe man on the box opened the door with more than usual courtesy. Outstepped a medium-sized man of good figure and a most remarkable face. Itwas bronzed like that of a seafaring man; the eyes were black as jet andpiercing; the nose hooked and rather long. He wore a thick, shortmoustache, which matched his hair and eyes in blackness; otherwise, hisface was smooth-shaven, and his attire was in the perfection of goodtaste for a business man. When he spoke, one noticed particularly hisstrong white, even teeth.

  "He looks like a pirate from the Spanish Main, dressed up," said Moore.

  "A remarkably attractive fellow, anyway."

  "Yes," I said; "he has the air of a celebrated man of some kind."

  As he walked to the desk, the by-standers spoke in subdued tones,watching him the while. I heard one lounger say: "Sure, that is thefellow. I've seen him before. Ain't he a wonder in looks?"

  Chief Hallen advanced and spoke a few words to the stranger, and thenshook hands with him. He registered, and the clerk thumped the bell forReilly with an air of tremendous importance.

  As though by accident, Chief Hallen espied us and, taking the strangerby the arm, walked over to us.

  We arose and bowed as the Chief repeated our names, saying, so thatthose near could hear: "Gentlemen, you are from the city. Let me makeyou acquainted with one of your fellow citizens--Mr. Quintus Oakes, ofNew York."

  Moore calmly shook hands and mumbled something, and then, in a sidewhisper to me, said: "It's up to you, Stone; say something."

  Although I was nearly as surprised as he, I managed to make a fewaudible remarks about how glad the town would be to know that QuintusOakes was here. I saw a merry twinkle in Hallen's e
yes, but the strangermade a suitable reply, and left us with that peculiar business-like airof his.

  I turned to Moore and half-gasped: "What does this mean, old man?"

  "A decoy," said he. "Just keep your nerve. Hallen has been giving uspractice in acting."

  The by-standers and the groups in the street were discussing thestranger with peculiar, suppressed excitement. Many of the smart onesclaimed to have seen him before and to know all about him; already,"Quintus Oakes" rang familiarly from their lips.

  We presently returned to the Mansion and related to our leader the factswe had learned from Reilly regarding "the woman's" appearances beforethe murder, the sudden ending of both the milkmen who had seen her, andReilly's own suspicions in the matter. Oakes was thoughtful for quite awhile.

  "You have done more than I thought you could in so brief a time," saidhe at last. "Have you any theories regarding the identity of the woman?"

  We had none to offer, and he began to smile ever so slightly. "Well, itseems to me your woman is a mistake--there was no woman. The assassinwas a man in a black robe. He ran heavily, of course. You have drawn themurderer of Smith nearer to that of Mark. As regards the sudden deathsof the milkmen, probably both were killed; the examinations after death,conducted as these were, amount to nothing. The murderer of Smith, thetwo milkmen and of Mark is probably one and the same. Stone, you nearlyfell a victim at the bridge the other night, too."

  I did not reply, but a cold perspiration broke out over me. The chain ofevents seemed clearer now in the light of Oakes's reasoning. Then heturned to Moore.

  "Doctor, loan me your cigar-cutter, will you?"

  The physician reached for it, but it was gone.

  "I think this must be it," said Oakes, holding out the missing article."Next time you hide on your stomach behind a tree, do it properly."

  Moore was dumfounded.

  "What!" I cried, "you know that too? We did not tell you."

  "No, you did not. You began your narration at the wrong end--or perhapsyou _forgot_," and his eyes twinkled.

  "But how did you learn of it?" demanded Moore, recovering. And Quintussmiled outright.

  "My man was behind another tree only ten feet away from you the wholetime. When you left, he picked up this as a memento of your brilliantdetective work."

  Moore and I smarted a little under the sarcasm, and I asked what the manwas doing there.

  "Oh, he was watching Mike and, incidentally, keeping you two frommischief. You need a guardian. You never even suspected his presence,and--suppose he had been the assassin!"

  "Well," I said, "I suppose that you know all about your namesake intown, and don't need any of our information."

  He heard the chagrin in my voice and smiled as he replied:

  "Don't mind those little things; they happen to all of us. I am glad'Quintus Oakes' has arrived. Chief Hallen and I concluded that thesudden arrival of such a man as our decoy would have a salutary effecton the citizens. An appearance of action on Hallen's part would tend toquiet their restlessness; and, now that public attention is focused upon_him_, Mr. Clark and his friends can work more freely."

  During the discussion that followed, he told us that Mike's errand onhorseback was as yet unknown, but that the man whom we followed and loston the way was from a stable in Lorona.

  "You see," continued he, "Mike has been doing this before. The horse isbrought from Lorona in a roundabout way. Doubtless, on his return, heleaves it at some spot where it is met and returned to the stable."

  "Mike is a mystery. What is he up to?" said Moore. "Can he be themurderer?"

  "Wait and see," replied Oakes enigmatically, as he ended theconversation.