"Why not?"
"Because, Captain, if that had been human blood Lady would have shied,
and whimpered, and trembled. She would have called our attention to it,
but she would not have brought the hat out to us."
Captain Tucker flared into temper. "Doctor, that's going too far. Even a
clever dog is only a dog. We're going back."
The police officer carried the gruesome find to the house. Joe stumbled
in the snow. There had been that dark stain near the sweat-band; he had
seen it, and was troubled. Was Uncle David wrong? They crossed the porch
and entered the room where Mr. Wilkes waited, and on the instant the man
cried out in nasal horror:
"It's Boothy's hat. And there's blood on it."
"I'm going back to the village," Captain Tucker said hurriedly. "I'm
coming back with a crew of men. We'll find what's hidden here. We'll find
it if we have to dig up every foot of this farm."
The captain was gone. The outer door closed. Dr. Stone still stood just
within the room. Outside a motor roared, and suddenly the blind man
shouted.
"Tucker! See that Herman Lang comes here as soon as he arrives."
It seemed to Joe that Mr. Wilkes leaped and jerked in every muscle.
"Lang? What about Herman Lang?" Another fit of sputtering and coughing
seized him, and he spat violently. "What about him?"
"Oh!" The doctor's voice was soft. "So you know Herman Lang?"
"Never heerd o' him. Who is he?"
"He's the bank cashier who was at this house the day Jud Cory's father
trusted Boothy with nine thousand dollars. Jud came here to get that
money."
"Bah! A likely tale. What am I supposed to do about it?"
The blind man, holding to the dog's leash, stepped well within the room.
Joe edged a little to the side. He had been with his uncle on so many
adventures he had developed an instinct that told him when a trap was to
be sprung. And instinct told him a trap was to be sprung now.
"You might answer a few questions, Mr. Wilkes. You and Boothy hadn't seen
or heard from each other in twenty years?"
"Maybe it was twenty-one years."
"Then how did you know Boothy used dynamite to break the hardpan when he
set out his orchard. Those trees were planted in the spring of 1920,
thirteen years ago."
Joe saw the Adam's apple in the man's throat work convulsively. "Likely I
heard about it somewhere."
"When Tucker came in, how did you know he had Boothy's hat?"
"It must have been Boothy's--Boothy allers wore the same kind."
"How did you know of the blood? You were across the room. You couldn't
have distinguished a stain on a wet hat. Or--" The blind man paused. "Or
did you know, before we left the room, that we were going to come back
with a blood-stained hat?"
Joe could almost feel the man tremble. But no words came from the stark,
startled lips.
"Nine thousand dollars," Dr. Stone mused. "Simple interest for eleven
years at six per cent. Five hundred and forty dollars a year. A total,
principal and interest, of fourteen thousand nine hundred forty dollars.
Sit down, Wilkes."
Mr. Wilkes sat down.
"Make out a check to Jud Cory for fourteen thousand nine hundred forty
dollars."
Joe expected shrill, nasal protest. Instead the man sat there, huddled in
tremulous abjection. By and by the fingers, strong and work-hardened,
began to move slowly; and with that Joe saw a look of shrewd, calculating
cunning steal into the eyes. He was like a man who, lost, sees a glimmer
of hope.
"Doctor, most likely this Jud Cory's been a-tellin' you a passel o' lies.
But it ain't fitten to speak ill o' the dead, and Boothy's my brother and
I don't hanker t' have folks a-whisperin' about him and makin' light o'
his good name. Tell you what I'll do, Doctor. I'll give this Jud Cory
enough to stop his mouth. Likely he'll need it, anyway, t' pay his trial
lawyer."
"That's kind of you," Dr. Stone said dryly.
Mr. Wilkes wrote a check and pressed it into the blind man's hand.
"It's no more than fair to tell you, Wilkes, that Herman Lang is not
expected here."
With a snarl the man was on his feet. "Give me that check!" Lady gave a
warning growl, and on the instant the grasping hand was stayed. Mr.
Wilkes shrank back.
"It would be a simple matter to telegraph and bring him East," the doctor
said pointedly.
As slowly as it had come the shrewd cunning faded out of the man's eyes.
He sank back into the chair.