_CHAPTER V_

  _The Letter_

  While Oakes and I were in the first stages of our journey, Dr. Moorestood in his back office at the close of business hours, wondering ifthe adventure that Oakes had so well described to us could in any wayhave been originated by other than physical forces. Moore was a deepstudent of mental phenomena. He had on more than one occasion heardhistories of terrible tragedies, so real in their wording that thepicture conveyed was the practical guarantee of their origin at humanhands; but, nevertheless, these histories had been proved to be but theimaginings of a diseased mind--products of a delusion.

  In every other respect the narrators had been, in appearance at least,perfectly sane individuals. While he hesitated to think that Oakes mighthave been suffering from an overworked brain at the time, still he knewthat it was not impossible.

  The struggles that the servants had heard had been those of Oakes; theactual evidences so far of assault were vague. Oakes was in a partiallyunconscious condition, to be sure; but what evidence of violence wasthat?

  Moore's cool professional judgment told him that queer sensations arecommon after a severe shock, whether delusional in origin or not.

  He had known Oakes for years, and the good judgment and coolness that hehad always shown spoke greatly against a recently developed mentaldisorder.

  Still, Moore was uneasy; he longed for more evidence of physical forcefrom without--something more positive.

  Of course, Oakes was not alone in his experience--there had beenothers--but it was possible that the mere contagion of terror might bein part responsible for some of these. There had been no witnesses. Thestatement of violence rested on the word of the victims alone. Dr. Mooreknew that men thinking constantly of the same thing, to the exclusion ofall else, might develop similar delusions. The physician had seen manystrange things, and was not a man to be easily deceived. Could it bethat Quintus Oakes was the victim of a mental process?

  It was this very power which Moore possessed--of thinking along suchlines--that made him, in Oakes's opinion, a particularly desirableaddition to the party. Little, however, did the detective imagine thatthe trained mind of the physician would first weigh the possibilities ofOakes's own mental instability.

  While Moore was deep in thought, he was suddenly interrupted by thebell, and the receipt of a note which had been delivered by the postman.

  He glanced at the postmark, and saw that it was from Station O and wasmailed at 4:30.

  Somehow, he felt an instinctive dread of its contents. Of course, he asyet had no adequate cause for misgivings; but there was that in thesubject of which he had been thinking that seemed to forecast evil anddread. His mind was in a state of unrest at the very thought of thepossibilities. He tore the letter open, and read:

  "DEAR DR. MOORE: You may not deem it wise to pay attention to ananonymous communication, but let me assure you that, if you value alife, you will pay attention in this case.

  "It has come within my province to know that a great tragedy may beaverted by you.

  "Some short while ago a man, tall, straight as an arrow, and with blueeyes, went to the town of Mona and stopped at the Mansion. There he camenear being murdered, and if he ever goes back, I personally know that hewill be killed in short order.

  "His business was said to be that of an agent for the owners. I saw himin New York several years ago, and he was pointed out to me as acelebrated detective, but I cannot remember his name, or that of theperson who informed me.

  "At Mona he was known by another name. I cannot go there, however, orlearn any more particulars. The reason I address this to you is that Iknow that you are acquainted with him, as years ago I used to see himoften in your company.

  "Now please communicate with this man; you are the only thread that Ihave to his identity.

  "_Reach him, if possible, at once._ Warn him. Tell him to turn back--toabandon his quest, for death to him is the only alternative.

  "Do not attempt to trace my identity. _Act_, and _act quickly_, if youwish to prevent a great horror."

  * * * * *

  The letter terminated abruptly. Dr. Moore realized in an instant thatOakes's movements were known to some outsider already--someone who hadeither been in Manhattan that day, or who had sent the letter there toone who had mailed it.

  He saw the whole matter in a most serious light. Oakes was in dangerfrom forces he did not suspect, perhaps, and the assault he haddescribed had been known to others besides the immediate household ofservants. For who, of that household, could have written such a letter?

  Moore thought of his plans gone astray, of his business engagements, butthey all paled into insignificance in the face of the danger to Oakes.

  He decided to follow up Oakes by the very next train. Finding he hadtime for one or two calls, he rushed in his carriage to make them, andas he entered his office upon his return he found an energetic young manawaiting him. He knew him as Martin, one of Oakes's aides.

  "Good evening, Doctor! You're on the rush tonight. My! but I had tohustle."

  "Good evening! But how did you know so much of my movements--how, why,did you have to hustle?"

  "I just arrived here a few seconds ago. I have been watching you thisevening. Mr. Oakes told me to take care of you and keep you out ofmischief. You see, he feared trouble of some kind. I was told to reportto you once in a while--and here I am."

  The physician understood, and then they discussed the recentdevelopment. It was agreed that Dr. Moore should leave for Mona; andthis, after arranging his business by telephone and hastily makingready, he succeeded in doing.

  As he boarded the train he asked of Martin, who was with him, if he wasto go to Mona also.

  "That depends upon who enters after you. If I think you are followed, Igo too." And Moore realized that Oakes's hand of caution had been shownonce more.

 
Charles Ross Jackson's Novels