FLIGHT
"WHAT!" exclaimed Sir Silas and Mr Buckley, simultaneously. "A
make-up? Explain yourself, Atherton."
"That I think is fairly simple, sir," said the Scout. "The marks on
the window-frame show that a jemmy has been used, but unless the
sash-frame on that side were prised out the window could not be
opened by those means. No professional burglar would attempt to use a
jemmy on a window; he would stick a piece of putty to the glass close
to the fastening, and cut round it with a diamond. That would be a
noiseless operation, while the force that caused those dents would
make quite a racket. Then, sir, there is the lock. The front of the
safe has been electrically drilled. Upon examining it I find that the
drill was applied from the inside."
"From the inside?" repeated the baronet.
"Yes, Sir Silas. The door was first opened with the proper key, swung
back, and cut whilst in that position."
"By Jove, Atherton, I believe you are right," exclaimed the
Scoutmaster, holding a pocket microscope to the portion of the metal
door. "Do you suspect anyone in your house, sir?" he added,
addressing Sir Silas.
"It looks a serious matter for my butler to explain. I'll send for
him."
"One minute, sir," said Atherton. "Mr Tassh spent the night before
last on Seal Island."
"But he declared just now that he never slept out of the house during
the whole time I was away. Are you sure of this?"
"Well, sir, he pitched a yarn into us that his name was Todd, and
that he was a stranger to the place. He couldn't get back to
Polkerwyck because it was too rough, and in the morning we gave him
some food."
"I won't say anything about your discovery to him at present,
Atherton. I'll ask him to bring in some refreshment. In my concern
about this robbery I quite overlooked my duties as a host, Mr
Buckley."
"Tassh, bring in some sandwiches, cake, lemonade and anything else
you think these young gentlemen may fancy," ordered the baronet.
"Yes, sir," replied the butler; and in a few minutes he returned with
a loaded tray.
"By the by, Tassh," said Sir Silas in a well-assumed casual tone, "I
suppose you have seen these young gentlemen before to-day?"
"Yes, sir. Saw them when they arrived, and again the other day when I
called in at the post-office."
"But the night before last?"
"The night before last, sir?" repeated the butler, in a mechanical
voice. "I don't understand, sir."
"But I hear that you were on Seal Island."
"Quite a mistake, sir. I haven't set foot on Seal Island for more
than a twelvemonth, and that was when I went with Farmer Trebarwith."
"It is sometimes awkward for a man to have a double, Tassh," said Sir
Silas grimly, "especially in a small place like Polkerwyck. All the
same, Tassh, I have a few questions to put to you later on. Go to
your room and remain there till I send for you."
"Very good, sir."
Without the faintest trace of emotion the butler withdrew. The
baronet waited till the latch of the door clicked and turned to
Atherton.
"You are quite sure of what you said about Tassh?"
"Yes, sir; and the rest of us saw him too."
"But there is such a thing as mistaken identity?"
"Well, then, sir, in that case both Peter Varco and Tregaskis saw
him. Tregaskis took him off the Island in his boat."
"Strange," commented Sir Silas.
"And, sir," continued Atherton, "since Tassh is so keen on concealing
his movements, I must say that his downright bluff in denying his
identity confirms our suspicions. More than once some one has visited
the Tea Caves by night. One man only, and one wearing large boots and
taking very small footsteps. On one occasion he came by boat and took
some of our thole-pins. How he managed on other occasions we cannot
yet make out."
"I think there is enough circumstantial evidence to warrant his
arrest," declared the baronet. "You know the local police station, I
suppose, lads? Ah, that's good. Will one of you slip out quietly and
see if Sergeant Coombes is still there. If not, bring Gregory, the
policeman."
"I say, Atherton, you are making a most grave statement against the
man," cautioned Mr Buckley. "If there is a mistake the result will be
serious, you know."
"There is quite enough cause, since Tassh has deliberately told me
falsehoods concerning his visit to Seal Island," said the baronet.
"I'll take all responsibility should there be any question of illegal
arrest, Mr Buckley."
A quarter of an hour later Polglaze, the plain-clothes officer,
cycled up to the house.
"Sergeant Coombes is following, sir," he announced. "Have you
discovered any clue, Sir Silas?"
"Yes," replied the baronet, grimly. "Thanks to these Scouts. I want
you to arrest Paul Tassh on a charge of theft."
In a few words Sir Silas explained the situation, and in spite of
professional jealousy the detective was bound to admit that
Atherton's deductions were quite sufficient to justify the step the
baronet was about to take.
Sir Silas touched the bell communicating with the butler's private
room. He waited a full minute and rang again. There was no reply.
"Strikes me very forcibly that I've given the fellow a chance and
he's taken it, by Jove!" remarked Sir Silas, as he touched an
electric push that rang a bell in the servants' hall.
"Jones, go to Tassh's room and tell him to come instantly," ordered
the baronet, as a young under-footman entered. "Stay: perhaps, Mr
Polglaze, you would like to accompany Jones?"
Two minutes later the detective returned.
"He's in his room, sir, but he's locked himself in," announced
Polglaze. "I demanded admittance three times, but before I burst open
the door I thought I would tell you, Sir Silas."
"Do you think Tassh has done himself an injury?" asked the baronet,
anxiously.
"Judging by the man's appearance I should say not. He may have
slipped off. Station two of your Scouts outside his window, Mr
Buckley, if you don't mind."
The under-footman pointed out the window to Baker and Mayne, and
returned with the intelligence that it was closed. Since the window
was fifteen feet from the ground, and had a very narrow sill, it was
most unlikely that Tassh could have made good his escape and at the
same time closed the window after him.
Outside, in the corridor, Sir Silas, the detective, the Scoutmaster
and the remaining Scouts halted. Polglaze knelt down and attempted to
peep through the keyhole. The key was in the lock and effectually
thwarted the detective's action.
"Does Tassh carry firearms, sir?" he asked.
"Not to my knowledge."
"Then it is possible that he is armed. If he is desperate we may have
a lively reception. Suppose, Sir Silas, we tell these lads to go
downstairs out of danger? We will then wait till Coombes and Gregory
arrive, force the door and rush our man."
Somewhat reluctantly in spirit, yet with alacrity, the Scouts obeyed
their Scoutmaster's order to get out of harm's way. As they were
descending the stairs the sergeant and the village policeman, both
very red in the face with exertion, came hurrying up.
"Open the door instantly, Tassh," ordered Sir Silas in a loud voice.
There was no reply. Only the ticking of a grandfather's clock at the
head of the stairs and the laboured breathing of the two policemen
broke the silence.
"Force it," said the baronet, laconically.
Polglaze put his shoulder to the door. The good, old-fashioned oak
resisted his efforts.
"Bear a hand here, Coombes," he said. "Now, together."
The sixteen-stone Cornish sergeant's weight added to the detective's
modest eleven did the trick. The door, forced from its hinges, flew
inwards, Coombes following it and sprawling heavily upon the floor.
The room was empty.
"He must be somewhere about," said the detective. "We know the door
is locked on the inside. A man cannot go out of a room, shut a door,
and lock it on the inside, can he?"
The room was in a fairly tidy state. A white table-cloth covered the
table. On it were the remains of a meal, and a box of cigars that Sir
Silas recognised as containing his special brand. A sporting paper
and a copy of one of the county journals with an account of the
supposed burglary lay on one of the chairs, the former apparently
having been dropped there when the butler received his orders to
attend upon Sir Silas. His watch was hanging from a hook by the side
of the large mantelpiece. All pointed to the fact that Tassh's
departure had been hurriedly performed; at the same time the question
arose, how did he manage it?
"Well, Polglaze?"
"This knocks me, Sir Silas," replied the detective, rubbing his
shoulder that was beginning to forcibly remind him that oaken doors
cannot be charged with impunity.
"Shall I see what those Scouts make of it?" asked the baronet, with a
grim sense of humour.
"Let 'em have a shot at it, by all means, Sir Silas," said Polglaze.
"This beats cockfighting."
But the Scouts had to own themselves beaten for the time being at
least. They tried the walls, floor, chimney, and everything they
could think of, but without success.
"I believe he got out by the chimney," suggested Sergeant Coombes,
who, since his tumble, had judiciously kept silent in order to regain
his breath.
"The soot hasn't been disturbed," said Atherton. "That's what I
particularly noticed."
"All the same I say it's the chimney, young man," said the sergeant,
with a brave show of dignity. "And until you prove to my satisfaction
that 'tain't, well then, 'tis the chimney, I say."
"Don't stand there laying down the law, Coombes," said the detective.
"Every minute Tassh is no doubt getting farther and farther away.
Gregory, hurry back to the village and telephone through to all the
stations nearabouts. Give the full details, although I'll stake my
life there's hardly a policeman within twenty miles who doesn't know
Paul Tassh."
At Mr Buckley's suggestion the Scouts made a complete circuit of the
house, examining the ground for possible trails; but all to no
purpose.
At three o'clock the lads bade farewell to their host, at the same
time expressing their sympathy at the loss, and their regret at their
inability to do anything of service in the matter.
As the patrol descended the hill leading to the village, Baker
pointed to Seal Island.
"Look," he exclaimed. "There's something wrong with the 'Wolves,' I
do declare."