Jimmy had not been sleeping well nights. On this night he dreamed
that he was alone in the city room of the Eagle doing the dog
watch. He was reading a history of the Civil War in which was
stressed the reconstruction period with its harrowing details, a
period under which serious dismemberment of the country was
threatened. While he was reading this, the telegraph instrument in
the telegraph room kept up its intermittent tapping.
He awoke with the tapping still in his ears, as though in
continuation of his dream. He lay still thinking of the
eccentricities of dreams in general when the tapping of which he
had been conscious in his dreams was repeated at his window. This
time it did not sound like a telegraph instrument. It seemed that
a number of pebbles had struck the upper window panes, the lower
being open. He distinctly heard some of the pebbles strike the
floor. He lay still when he was aware of a repetition of the
sound.
He got out of bed and went to the window. Standing in the graying
dawn was his youthful pilot, Harry Stoy. The youth was beckoning
earnestly for Jimmy to come down stairs. Slipping on some clothes
and a pair of soft soled moccasins Jimmy stole out of the house
being careful not to awaken any of its inmates.
Harry held his finger to his mouth as a signal for silence and led
the way down to the water front. Here he whispered excitedly:
"Say, Mr. Hale, I think I know where the kid is?"
Jimmy stared at the youth who was shivering with excitement.
"You mean Tommy, Harry?"
"Yeah, Tommy. Let's row out a little bit in the boat then start it
where your folks can't hear the motor. Come on, Mr. Hale. Are you
game?"
Jimmy grinned and tingled. His first thought was that he ought to
call Jack; he decided against it. There was the danger of
awakening Professor Brierly and Norah. He did not want to arouse
any false hopes, the kid might be mistaken. He also did not want
to lose face in the eyes of this youngster. The question of
whether he was game decided him. He stole back into the house
where he took from the drawer of the living-room table a loaded
revolver; he decided against a shotgun or rifle.
When they got out far enough to start the motor without fear of
waking up those in the house, Harry spoke. He was panting with
excitement.
"This place we're goin' to Mr. Hale is about five miles up the
lake, and about two miles in on the other side. There's a sort of
farm up there. A guy by the name of Brown lives up there alone.
He's got a small airplane there too.
"He's a nice sort of guy but he's funny, kind of, like a man who
has a secret, if you know what I mean. When I heard Mr. Matthews
tell what a fast motor the man had who got away from him, I kinda
thought it might be this Brown, 'cause he's got a fast motor, one
of the fastest on the lake.
"So I been watchin', Mr. Hale. When I seen him up in the plane, I
went over there. He's got a collie dog, but no dog ever bites me,
Mr. Hale, they all make friends with me and I like 'em too. I went
up there late this evenin' meanin' last night, when you told me
you wouldn't need me any more.
"The plane was gone and the collie was in the yard. But I made
friends with the dog. The house was locked up. I clumb up the
porch and there in an upstairs room I seen Tommy asleep. I was
gonna take him and bring him home, but just then I heard the
plane, or I thought I did.
"I hid in the woods and it wasn't the plane at all, I was
mistaken. Gee, just think of it, Mr. Hale, I coulda got the kid
all by myself, then I thought I better come for you. Mebbe while I
was takin' the kid, this Brown might come and what could I do
alone. And the kid might be hurt, see?"
A lump rose in Jimmy's throat. He was rather unnerved from the
recent ordeal. He noticed that Harry did not once mention the
possible danger to himself. The phrase rang in his mind: "And the
kid might be hurt, see?"
Harry ran the small boat into a tiny cove where it might be
hidden, both from the water and from the shore. For several
hundred feet from the shore there was a clear, well-defined path
running nearly straight westward through the woods.
After a short distance Harry swung off from this path; then he
took several turns. He seemed to know the way. At the end of a
half hour's walk, Jimmy judged they had gone about two miles.
Harry put his hand on Hale's arm as a signal for caution.
Ahead of Jimmy lay a large, well-tilled and well-cared for farm.
There was the loud, ringing, penetrating bark of a collie, then
all was silence. Harry uttered an exclamation of disappointment.
He pointed and Jimmy understood. About two hundred yards away at
one end of a large level field a small plane was plainly visible
in its hangar. Brown, the owner of the farm, was evidently home.
Jimmy debated swiftly and fiercely with himself on his course of
action. Tommy was there; a false step and Tommy might be hurt. He
might even be killed. No consideration of personal safety would
have prevented Jimmy from taking immediate action. But--looming
large in his mind--was a picture of the little boy and his grieving
mother on the other side of the lake.
To Harry's vast disappointment, his hero, James Hale, the star
reporter, turned and retraced his steps, Harry perforce following
him. Harry had looked up at his hero doubtfully. He had been
certain in his mind that they would return home triumphant,
bearing the kidnapped boy. Gee, he could have done it himself,
almost. But his hero turned tail. Feet of clay! Harry did not know
the phrase, but all his thoughts expressed it very well.
The trip back was made in silence. The sun, a red, brilliant ball
of fire was in their eyes as they retraced their steps through the
woods. Still in silence, Harry started the boat, and pushed to its
capacity of speed, the fast sea sled made short work of the five
miles separating them from their camp.
Here Jimmy found that there was no need for silence. All the
household was awake. Indeed, Norah, in her anxiety had not slept
at all, and she said that she had heard Jimmy leave with the boy.
Matthews was restlessly pacing the short stretch of beach when the
boat tied up to the wharf. Norah and Professor Brierly joined
Matthews as Jimmy and Harry Stoy got out of their boat.
Harry burst out:
"Gee, Mr. Matthews, we found Tommy. We would have brought him home
but Mr. Hale thought--he thought we'd better come back for help."
Three wide-eyed persons, each reflecting his emotions in his own
way stared at the youth; from the youth to Jimmy. Jimmy with tight
lips, explained.
"Oh, Jack, Jack, Professor," panted Norah. "Let us go, let us--"
Jack did not hear. He was racing toward the shack. He returned
ready for the trip, a rifle in his hand.
Professor Brierly suggested:
"The mounted police--"
"No!" Matthews shook his head emphatically. "We won't need the
mounted police or any help. There's only one man."
"I shall go with you," announced Professor Brierly.
"No, Professor. We must make speed. We'll take both sea sleds, but
then there's a long tramp."
"But you do not understand, John. This man's name is Brown. It is
Amos Brown, the man we are looking for. I traced him up to Canada.
It was only a question of a day or two before I should have found
him. I must be there, John."
"Please, Professor, don't insist. This job is not for you. Tell us
what to do and Jimmy and I can do what needs be done. The first
thing is to get Tommy, then there will be time--"
"But there may not be time, John. Men's lives may depend on--oh,
well have it your way. Hale, if you and John are insistent on
acting like impulsive fools and not taking along qualified
officers, see to it that you get whatever papers you can at this
man's house. And for God's sake, boys, be careful. This is a
dangerous man. He will be on his own ground."
The three were on their way. As the two sea sleds put off
sputtering to a crescendo roar as they made a wide curving wake on
the still water, McCall disturbed by the noise came to the door.
After they beached their boats in the tiny cove, Jimmy and
Matthews, following Harry, alternately running and jogging,
hurried along the dim trail. When Jimmy judged they had covered
three-quarters of the distance they heard a ringing bark followed
by a faint crack of a firearm. This was shortly followed by
another. The three stood stock still for a moment and then put on
an additional burst of speed. Before they came into the clearing
of the farm, they heard the sound of a motor car, fading into the
distance.
As the three panting figures came into the clearing they saw the
tawny figure of a collie racing frantically back and forth about a
dark mass lying near the house. The collie was whimpering and
whining. The collie looked at the three approaching figures
expectantly; it stopped its whining, leading the way directly to
the thing lying near the rear door of the small farm house.
A tall figure lay there with its sightless eyes staring into the
sun. A dark, red stain was widening on its shirt front.
At this moment a shrill treble yell was heard from the house.
Matthews raced through the open door and bounded up the steps.
Finding the door locked, from behind which the crying was coming,
he stepped back. He called out:
"Stand away from the door Tommy, Uncle Jack's going to break it
open."
The door flew open under the impetus of a large foot planted near
the lock. A small figure rushed into his arms hugging him tightly.
"Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack! Where's Mummie? Where's Pop?"
Matthews held the small figure off and looked at him anxiously.
Except that his clothes were in a state that would have sent his
finicky mother frantic, the youngster did not seem the worse for
wear.
"Did the man hurt you, Tommy?"
"Oh, no, Uncle Jack. He is a good man, nice man. He gimme candy,
he gimme pie." The voice went prattling on as Jack carried him
downstairs.
Harry Stoy with youthful enthusiasm and the morbidity often
observed in the young wanted to examine the thing that lay on the
ground. Jimmy, with full knowledge of police regulations and
requirements, objected. He went into the house and made a careful
search, taking such papers as he thought might be of use to
Professor Brierly, the scientist, and to Jimmy, the newspaper man.
When Jack came with the boy, Jimmy called the telephone operator
and after identifying himself he told her where he was and asked
that the nearest police authorities be notified. Then the group
started back for the lake.
Professor Brierly and Norah were pacing the lake front in an agony
of impatience, each for a different reason. Norah ran into the
shallow water several steps, the sooner to have the child in her
hungry arms. Professor Brierly's eyes were burning as he waved a
telegram.
As the happy group stepped ashore, Professor Brierly said:
"It was Amos Brown, of course. This wire tells me. I should have
known but perhaps this is best. Tell me, was there a boxwood
hedge, a collie, running water, a sorrel horse, a pear tree?"
Jimmy and Matthews looked at one another sheepishly. They had been
too much absorbed in their errand to see. They both wrinkled their
brows in an effort to visualize the farmyard where that thing lay,
when Professor Brierly exploded into wrath.
"Oh, you futile, inane, incompetent creatures. You, John, with all
your scientific training. I cannot expect anything else from Hale.
A newspaper man lives on emotional sensations. They form his stock
in trade, but you--" Harry Stoy interrupted:
"Professor, if you're askin' about Mr. Brown's farm all them
things you mentioned are there and there's some leghorn chickens
and some--"
Professor Brierly's eyes glowed approvingly. "Good boy, Harry, you
not only have eyes, but you can see." He looked down and a smile
broke over his tired features. Tommy had been tugging his coat
demanding attention. Professor Brierly took the child in his arms
and hugged him tight.
After the excitement was over he bent eagerly over the papers that
Jimmy brought from Brown's farm. He was thus engaged and the
others were making a fuss over Tommy when the telephone bell rang.
"For you, Professor," called Martha.
The voice that came to Professor Brierly over the wire had a break
in it. In the voice it was difficult to recognize the finely
modulated diction of Justice Isaac Higginbotham.
"For God's sake, Professor, come at once. Two of us were killed.
Come--" The voice ended in a croak and there was no more.
When it became apparent that the other had dropped his receiver,
Professor Brierly turned the crank until he got the attention of
the operator. It took a long time to be connected with the nearest
police officer.
Professor Brierly identified himself and said:
"Two men were killed in Justice Higginbotham's camp. You know
where that is?"
"Yes, sir."
"How soon can you have a man or two down there?"
"Hold the wire a moment, sir. I'll tell you." After a brief
interval the voice asked: "Are you there, sir?"
"Yes."
"We can have one man, perhaps two there in half an hour, sir."
"Very well. I was going down there. Will your man stop here for me
on the way down?"
"Yes, sir. This is at Mr. McCall's camp, is it not?"
"Yes."
"Good-by."
Professor Brierly now called up the Higginbotham camp for
additional details. The overhanging rock had fallen, carrying with
it the porch. The house was not much damaged. Professor Brierly
surmised that the one thing that saved the house was the weakness
with which the porch had been attached to the main building.