_CHAPTER XVIII_

  _Misadventures_

  Toward morning the crowd thinned. The street grew more quiet, althoughthe very air still throbbed with action, even as the heart-strokeswithin us. Quickly as events had come, we were yet only in the midst ofour experiences.

  The clock in the Chief's room was striking three, and drowsiness wasstealing over me, as over the outside world, when a knock came at thefront door and Hallen admitted a man, weary-eyed and panting. Irecognized him as one of the men who had been masquerading about theMansion as a carpenter. He was dressed in a heavy jersey without a coat,and was evidently suffering from fatigue.

  He walked over to Oakes and spoke to him in a low voice. The detectiveasked a question or two, and turning looked at Dr. Moore, asleep in achair, fagged out, then at me. I was wide awake, anticipating moretrouble. "Stone," said he, "are you good for a ride with me onhorseback? We have found something important."

  "Yes," I answered, "I am ready."

  Speaking a word to Hallen and Martin, Oakes drew me aside. "Leave yourovercoat. Come, we are needed."

  We passed out into the night and down a side street, led by the man whohad summoned us. In a few minutes we reached a stable and found horses,and I knew that it had been so arranged. We were mounted and off withoutnotice from any but an hostler and the proprietor, who had told me thatmy horse was strong and capable.

  We pounded to the east, along the Highway, toward Lorona, for a mile orso, then swerved into a narrow road winding across the plateau to thesouth and west. I knew we were making for the River Road below theMansion. I had heard of this lane, which swept in a long curve aroundthe southern end of Mona, connecting the Highway with River Road abouttwo miles south of the Mansion gate.

  As we galloped along, Oakes communicated to me the cause of our trip.

  "Two of my men have located a hut deep in the forest at the south end ofthe Mansion grounds. There is something going on there. They think theyhave the murderer. One of the men came for me; the other is watching."

  I felt the blood surge to my brain, and the hardships of the night wereforgotten in the intensity of my anticipations. At last, and I was to beat the finish!

  Instinctively I felt for my revolver. It was safe, and the assurancethat it was with me gave relief.

  Fortunately, I was a fair horseman and my mount was one of those animalsthat respond to the rider's every command. My two companions were alsowell mounted, and the long ride was soon over. Arriving at River Road,we dismounted and left the horses in charge of the man who hadaccompanied us. Another man now came from the darkness--another ofOakes's retinue. He was to lead us to the hut.

  Then we three entered the fringe of the woods, and cautiously followedour guide deep into the denser section. The moon was hidden occasionallyby fleeting clouds, and as we advanced farther and farther, its raysceased to reach us. All was gloom, deep and almost impenetrable.

  Our guide whispered: "He is in the hut, sir, waiting for someone. Followme."

  Then he advanced a few paces, and led us through a more open section ofthe forest. Soon he stopped.

  "Stay here until you see a light flash ahead; that is his signal. He hasbeen here an hour, but his friend is slow in coming."

  "Perhaps he knows it is too dangerous," said Oakes.

  Our guide went from us to a short distance, to keep separate watch.

  The giant trees around were more scattered than elsewhere in the forestthrough which we had passed. Occasionally the sheen of the moonlight wasvisible far above us as the branches swayed in the breeze. Here below,the air was quiet and the gloom deep. Our eyes, accustomed to it now,could detect the silent army of tree-trunks around us for a considerabledistance.

  The air was chilly, but excitement kept us from feeling the need of ourgreat-coats. Beneath our feet the ground was soft but dry, and theleaves were scattered about in profusion; for this was the fall of theyear and the woods had begun to strip at the touch of the frost king.

  Quintus Oakes stood by my side behind a tree. We were both gazingintently in the direction that had been indicated to us. Nothing wasvisible for a few moments, when suddenly Oakes pressed my shoulder withhis hand and said in a low, quiet voice: "See--off there, that flash!"

  I had noticed nothing, but as I drew breath to answer, I beheld thediverging rays of a light--probably a lantern--play up and down atree-trunk at least a hundred feet away. It moved quickly, and thenjumped to another trunk; in its transit it threw a long, narrow yellowstreak on the ground between. Then it would be lost suddenly to ourview. I thought the trees intervened in our line of vision at suchtimes, but Oakes explained: "He is waiting and signalling with a darklantern; see how the light is shut off at will. He is surely within ahut of some kind; I can see the outlines occasionally."

  "What can he be up to?" I whispered. "He is at least a mile from theMansion, and nearly as much from the road."

  "That light is a guide," said Oakes. "His confederate cannot find thehut without it; the forest is too dense."

  We waited in silence, stealing very carefully nearer to the hut, and ourpatience was finally rewarded. We saw the door, which was sidewise tous, open with a quick movement and a man enter. Then all was dark withinand without, save in one little spot where, through the back wall of thehut, a few rays found exit in long, narrow streaks of yellow light,scarcely visible to us.

  "He has turned his bull's eye away from the window and the door, and hasnot shut it. They are using the light for some purpose," said thedetective, touching my arm and motioning me to follow him.

  With utmost caution we advanced until we were near enough to hearvoices. At first they came to us as a low, indistinct muttering, but aswe neared the hut we determined that they were raised in argument. Atour distance, however, we were unable to recognize either.

  "Keep away from the front," said Oakes, "lest the door be opened and webe discovered."

  We stationed ourselves in the shadow near the window, which was low inthe side of this curious log-cabin--for such we saw it to be. It wasboarded inside evidently, for the light was kept from without too well.

  Through the window we beheld two dim forms bending over a board table.One was handling something like paper, in the diverging streak ofillumination from the bull's eye opening of the lantern, which was onthe table, facing the back wall of the hut, just as Oakes had said.

  The figure could not be distinguished either as to face or form, for thelight was very indistinct save in the immediate path of the rays. As wemoved ever so little from our chosen positions, our vision of the tableand the streak of light upon it was cut off, owing to the small size ofthe window. I knew by the movement of Oakes's arm that he had securedhis weapon, and I closed my hand about mine, holding it--muzzle down--bymy side, ready for instant use.

  The voices within, became louder, and I distinguished the words: "You_must_, man, you MUST get away."

  It was answered by a half-mumbled protest, and then we saw one figurearise and stoop over the light on the table.

  "Here, take this, and go!"

  Oakes touched me. "The murderer preparing to get away," he said.

  We could see a pair of hands counting what appeared to be money; thenthey extended their contents to the other hands that awaited them. Thefigure who had given the money arose, and with his back to us made as ifto leave. Suddenly, without an instant's warning, we saw the form of theother come partially into view, and an arm steal slowly upward. As thefirst figure moved away, it closed about his neck and a death strugglebegan, revealed to us by the blurred swaying of the two and a deep,despairing gasp from the man being strangled.

  "Murder!" said Oakes, and we moved toward the door of the hut with onethought in mind--the helping of a fellow being meeting his death at thehands of what we believed to be the assassin of Mona.

  I was excited; it was unquestionably the most trying moment of my life,and I met it as we had not foreseen. Advancing two steps hurriedly, myfeet caught in one another somehow, and wi
th a wild war-whoop ofdistress I fell forward on my face, carrying Oakes with me in acrashing, headlong mix-up that must have been heard for a hundred yardsin that still morning air.

  It was all over!

  The two in the hut heard us, the strangler released his hold and thelight was extinguished instantly. Out of the door the figures flew likedemons. They were both anxious to escape detection--that was evident.They must have thought it was the charge of the Light Brigade.

  Oakes and I were up and after them. He shouted a word of command, then Iheard more footsteps, and our guide answered. Instantly came the soundsof a struggle, fierce but short, in the darkness beyond. We could seenothing, but we heard a heavy fall, and then the rush of an escapingman, or men. Oakes and I were quick to reach the spot, and managed tofind our forest guide groaning on the ground.

  At Oakes's suggestion we carried him back to the hut, which Iascertained was now quite empty. It was a grewsome experience, this.Oakes refused to allow a match to be struck, saying: "Don't draw theirfire, Stone; we may be in a nest of them." My chagrin was deep as Ithought of the opportunity that my clumsiness had brought to naught. Wesoon succeeded in reviving our man; he had been felled by a fist blow onthe face, evidently.

  "Did you see the other fellow?" asked my companion.

  "Yes, sir, I saw one; he was Skinner. I caught his face in the lanternlight just as they doused it."

  "Indeed!" cried Oakes. "Skinner! You mean the man who runs thenewspaper--the one I have ordered shadowed."

  "Yes, sir; the same. It was he who was counting the money."

  "Yes, that agrees. Go on. Who was the other?"

  "I did not see him at all, Mr. Oakes, but I ran into him, or rather heinto me. I have a piece of his shirt here, sir."

  The man handed something to Oakes, and together we peered at it in thedim morning light. We soon determined that it was a good-sized piece ofthe neck of a shirt.

  Then, watching carefully the woods around, I stood on guard, while Oakesexamined the inside of the hut. It was an old hunter's cabin evidently,and had not been recently used. The table was made of rough boards, andwas supported by two stumps. It might have served as a place to lie uponalso.

  Oakes uttered an exclamation, as the guide handed him a piece of papermoney that was on the floor. Nothing else was found. The lantern hadgone with the men.

  "One man was giving money to the other to get him away, and nearly losthis life in defense of the rest in his possession. This is a piece of abill torn off in the struggle," said Oakes.

  "Do you recognize this shirt pattern?" asked he.

  "Yes, sir," said our guide; "it is like what O'Brien wears."

  "Exactly!" said Oakes. "And you"--he addressed the man--"come with us tothe road. Can you walk that far?"

  "Yes, indeed. I am all right now, but I was finished for a few minutes."

  "You were knocked out well," remarked Oakes; "lucky you were notkilled."

  We returned to River Road by the way we had come, arriving there as dawnwas breaking and the sun beginning to throw his rays across the plateaubefore us. We found our horses and the man who had escorted us fromMona.

  Oakes spoke to him: "Here, Bob, let Paul ride on your horse; he has hada smash. You walk. Both of you go to the Mansion and tell the others tofind O'Brien, if possible. Paul will explain. Make no arrests, but don'tlet your man get away."

  We vaulted into our saddles and galloped ahead. As we were returning toheadquarters by way of the Corners I felt like a culprit; I was devouredby chagrin, and thoroughly ashamed of my awkwardness.

  Oakes's face was grave--much more so than usual--but he rode his horsewith alertness and confidence, and I wondered at the endurance hedisplayed--also at his consideration; for in this hour, when keendisappointment must have been his, he did not mention my mishap, whichhad so changed events. He acted as though it were beneath him to noticeit, and that made me all the more mortified; but at the same time Ivowed to redeem myself in his eyes.

  Dashing toward the Mansion gate, we both pulled up our horses as Oakesuttered a sudden exclamation. He rested one hand on the pommel of hissaddle and pointed with the other at a man inside the Mansion gate. Hisback was toward us, and he had been raking the walk apparently.

  "Look--notice!" and the voice of my companion grew sharp andsignificant; "look!"

  The man was now reaching upward with one hand, the rake held within itsgrasp, and with a graceful, well-calculated swing he was deftly denudinga branch overhead of its dying leaves.

  "Well, I see," I answered; "it's Maloney cleaning up."

  "Exactly!" came the staccato answer; "but how about the strength of thewrist that can handle such a heavy rake with such certainty?"

  "Oh, yes, he's strong," I cried. "He's got plenty of muscle,apparently."

  "He has a strong wrist and a strong arm, and not such an awfully largechest," answered Oakes calmly, as though speaking of the weather or ofsomething of no importance. Fool that I was, it was only then that hismeaning suddenly went home to my slow-acting brain. I saw a light inOakes's eyes that I had never seen before--cool, steely, calculating.

  "No," I whispered; "_impossible_!--but you are searching for just such aperson."

  "Yes, of course," was the laconic answer; "but let's talk with thegentleman of the rake."

  Oakes led the way to within a few feet of the gate, then rising in hisstirrups shouted to Maloney.

  The latter turned, and with a look of recognition came quickly towardus. "Good morning, sir;--good morning, Mr. Clark. I was going toheadquarters for you soon, sir; they told me you had gone there withChief Hallen----"

  "Yes! Why did you wish to go there, Maloney?"

  "Because, sir, there is something wrong--something about the mysteryhere. You know, sir, you left word to report if anything unusualhappened."

  Maloney spoke quietly, and without embarrassment. We had noticed beforethat he was fairly well educated--another victim of unfortunatecircumstances.

  "What has occurred?" There was a hard ring in Oakes's voice. It told meto be discreet; I had heard that accent before.

  "Mr. Clark, I went down to Lorona last night to see my brother, who issick. When I returned it was late. I was on horseback, and I noticed aman on the road lighting a lantern. I spoke to him; he would not answer,but started into the timber at the far south end of the grounds."

  "Well, what was peculiar?"

  "It was Skinner, sir."

  "Skinner!"

  "Yes, sir; I saw his face by the light. I thought it strange, tied myhorse and followed him. He went a long way into the woods to a hut, andwaited a couple of hours with the light. Then another man came, and theyhad a quarrel. There was a terrible noise, and then the light went outand they disappeared. I went back to my horse and have just got here."

  "Who was with Skinner?"

  "I don't know, sir. I was facing the door of the hut, but it was toodark to see. They worked with a dark lantern."

  We had quietly walked our horses up to the gate while listening toMaloney. Oakes's eyes were upon the ground.

  Suddenly he looked up. "Thank you very much, Maloney. You have done wellin reporting to me. I will see Chief Hallen; this is a matter, perhaps,for the police, certainly not for me, to work on."

  Wheeling our horses, we darted to the Corners and on toward Mona.

  Quintus Oakes was very quiet; he seemed annoyed--or nonplussed--and thepace that he set was terrific. As we neared the town we slowed up, and Iasked excitedly of the taciturn man by my side: "Tell me, what's up?"

  He turned slightly in his saddle. "Maloney was there; he acknowledgedit. So far he told the truth; but he _lied_ about returning onhorseback. There were no hoof-marks going toward the stable--noneentered the Mansion gate. And he lied also about his brother in Lorona,for there is no such relative of his there; Maloney has no brothers orsisters hereabouts."

  I now remembered Oakes's careful scrutiny of the ground while we weretalking with Maloney, and I also realized how close was the net
he hadspread about everyone at the Mansion.

  "If Maloney was at the hut, how did he get back ahead of us?" I asked.

  "Ran, of course--took the inside way through the woods; he knows thepaths well. He may not only have been _near_ the hut, Stone, he may havebeen _in_ it. If so, he tried to kill Skinner, for the old man hadmoney."

  Then Oakes continued: "Perhaps it was Maloney who was about to get away,if he could. But he can't," the detective added with a sardonic laugh,as he closed his jaws firmly.

  "But," I exclaimed, "suppose it was Maloney, what of O'Brien? He wasthere; we have his shirt--in part at least."

  "Oh, bother O'Brien! he makes me tired," cried Oakes enigmatically; "hewill get himself into trouble some day."

  "Yes, yes," I contended; "but he too has strong arms and a strong wristand could have used the revolver."

  "Surely! So could many men. These clues are merely the primary ones.Many men answer their requirements. They are worth very little bythemselves. They simply point to a certain type of man. They are simply_links_, as yet unforged into the chain."

  "But one thing more, Oakes," I cried, "why should Maloney volunteer theinformation that he was at the place if he had no good excuse for beingthere?"

  "That's it exactly. Perhaps he mistrusts he was seen and wants to get inhis story first. Perhaps he cannot hold his tongue; perhaps his mind isweak. We are looking for a mind somewhat unusual, Stone, remember that."

  We were now at the Square in front of the little hotel and, dismounting,we proceeded to enter the door of the inn. As we did so, I took mycompanion by the arm and drew him aside.

  "Say, Oakes," I said, "don't tell Dr. Moore how I involved matters bythat stumble. I would never hear the end of it."

  Oakes looked surprised, then his eyes beamed in merriment. He smiledever so slightly.

  "That certainly was a beautiful charge you made over me," said he.

  He did not promise not to tell, however; but months afterwards, Dr.Moore learned all about it from me, and I then found that Quintus hadremained silent.

 
Charles Ross Jackson's Novels