FOLLOWING THE TRAIL.
“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Hooker, astonished. “Who stole them?”
“That question,” admitted Sleuth, “I’m not ready to answer at present.
I’ll focus my marvelous discerning intellect upon it after the would-be
bank robbers are securely in limbo. I’ll guarantee that the posses
searching for them are rushing hither and thither without rhyme, reason
or system. That’s no way to hunt the scoundrels down. Of course they may
blunder upon the fugitives by accident, but the trail should be taken up
and followed in a scientific manner.”
“That’s easy enough to talk about,” said Roy; “but, without the aid of
bloodhounds, how is it to be done?”
“To begin with, we know they fled in this direction, for old Quinn saw
them running from the back of the bank and fired at them. They must have
reached Middle Street a short distance away. It was impossible to follow
their tracks in the dark, but it’s now daylight, and I’m going to try to
pick up the trail.”
“A fine job you’ll do at that,” scoffed the other boy. “Even if you
should find their tracks, you’d need the skill of an Injun to follow
’em.”
“We’ll see,” said Piper—“we’ll see about that. There’s a cedar hedge
running from Main Street to Willow, and any person who dashed through
that hedge at full speed must have left some tokens.”
“Let’s examine the hedge.”
In less than a minute Piper found a place where the branches of the
trimmed cedars were bent and broken. He pointed at it exultantly.
“There’s where one of them went through,” he declared.
“Perhaps it’s where some one, hurrying to the bank, came in from the
other direction.”
“Use your eyes, Hook. The manner in which the cedars are twisted and
bent shows that the person who passed through the hedge came from this
direction, and he was in a hurry, too. Look here! What’s this, Roy? It’s
blood—blood on the bushes!”
No wonder Roy’s eyes bulged as he beheld the slight bloodstain at which
his companion pointed with a triumphant finger.
“Blood!” he muttered. “Why, then——”
“Old Quinn hit one of them, no question about it. There’s a wounded
bank-breaker fleeing for his life somewhere.”
Both lads were now greatly excited, although Sleuth fought hard to
maintain such an air of coolness as he fancied would well become a great
detective.
“By this trail of blood we’ll track him, Hooker,” he said. “If we
capture one of the rascals, perhaps he will squeal on his pals.”
“If _we_ capture him!” spluttered Roy. “What are you talking about? Do
you think we could do it alone? He’s a desperate man, and he’d fight——”
“Are you armed?”
“No.”
“Well, I am,” said Sleuth, displaying a small revolver. “It’s too bad
you have no weapon, but, nevertheless, you may be of great assistance in
capturing the man. If you’ve got nerve enough to stick by me, we’ll try
to run him down.”
“Hadn’t we better get others? Do you think we ought to try it alone?”
“If we call for assistance,” said Sleuth, “and the man is actually
captured, we’ll have to share the reward with others. You know there’s a
large reward offered for the apprehension of the man known as Gentleman
Jim, and it’s not impossible that the fellow who was winged by Aaron
Quinn is Gentleman Jim himself. If we take him, just you and I, we can
whack up on that reward money. I’ll agree to give you a fair share,
providing you stand by me through thick and thin.”
“You’ve certainly got a nerve, Piper, to think of trying such a thing. I
don’t know about it, myself.”
“Oh, well, if you’re scared,” said Sleuth, with no attempt to suppress
his scorn, “I’ll go it alone. I thought you had more sand, Hook.”
“Well, nobody around here has ever figured that you were running over
with sand, yourself,” was the resentful retort. “I guess I’ve got as
much as you have. Go ahead and see what you can do at this job of
trailing.”
Forcing their way through the hedge, they reached Middle Street, where
for a moment Piper hesitated, as if considering the probable course the
fugitive had taken.
“About the time the man got here,” he said, “Jonas Sylvester was waking
people up by his yells and shouts from the square in front of the
post-office. Under such circumstances, fearing to encounter some citizen
of the town who had been aroused by Sylvester, the fleeing man would
avoid the streets as far as possible. I should say he kept straight
across the road here and struck across lots for High Street.”
“Guesswork,” said Hooker.
“Deduction, reasoning, sound judgment,” flung back Sleuth, as he hurried
to examine the top rail of the old slat fence upon the northern side of
the street; “and here’s my proof—a smooch of blood where the man grasped
the rail as he vaulted over the fence.”
“Jinks!” breathed Roy, gazing at the sanguine mark. “You’re right; it’s
there.”
Beyond the fence Piper continued northward, bending forward that he
might search the ground with his eyes. Again and again he pointed to
frozen blood-drippings upon the grass, and, at Sleuth’s heels, Roy felt
his pulse throbbing with a touch of the fierce excitement that
invariably seizes upon one who hunts fleeing men. For the first time in
his life he was beginning to believe that Piper had been underestimated
by those who had scoffed at his ambition to become a great detective.
Across High Street and into the neglected, old-fashioned horse sheds at
the rear of the Methodist church the two boys followed the trail. In one
of those sheds there was a little pool of blood, surrounded by similar
drippings, at which Hooker stared in great fascination.
“He stopped here,” asserted Sleuth. “Concealed by the darkness, he hid
in this shed for some little time. Perhaps he was led to do this through
exhaustion caused by the wound. Perhaps he did so because he heard
citizens running down Main Street toward the bank.”
“Gee!” said Roy, giving himself a shake. “If he’s hurt bad, we’re liable
to come on him any minute. Why, we might have found him here, and
perhaps he’d filled us full of lead. It’s ticklish business, Pipe.”
“He won’t be liable to fight unless cornered, and if we corner him we
must get him foul so he can’t pot us. Come on; time is precious.”
As if the flow from the wound had been partly staunched, the trail now
became decidedly more difficult to follow. Nevertheless, Sleuth traced
it to upper Main Street, some distance below the home of Urian Eliot.
There it again led across the road and into the broad fields beyond.
Through the midst of these fields ran a tiny brook, the banks of which
were lined by scattering clumps of bushes. Here the brown grass was
rather tall, and the boys followed the man’s tracks with little
difficulty. At the point where the fugitive had started to cross the
brook a clay bank some three feet in height had caved beneath his feet.
“He took a tumble here,” said Piper. “There’s where he got on his pins
again. See his tracks, Hook?”
The prints of the man’s feet were plainly to be seen, and, it being no
more than a foot wide at that point, he had crossed the brook at a
stride. On the western side the trail again led northward, and before
long the boys paused within plain sight of the house of the Sages.
“Ah! ha!” breathed Sleuth, with an intonation of deep exultation. “Now
you can see what he was doing. I’m sorry indeed for our mutual friend,
Fred Sage; but duty is duty, and we must not falter.”
“It does look as if he made straight for the Sages’ place,” admitted
Roy.
“No question about it,” nodded Sleuth, grasping his companion’s arm and
drawing him back. “Let’s preserve proper caution. We might be seen.”
“I don’t see anyone stirring around the place.”
“No, but you can see that the front door of the stable is standing open
a bit. That door was not left thus all night long, you can bet on it.”
“I suppose they were woke up by the racket.”
“But why should they go to the stable? If we locate our man there,
Hooker, I’ll stay and keep watch while you go for the officers.”
“I don’t see how we’re going to——”
“We’ll have to retreat a distance, cross the road out of sight of the
house and approach the buildings from the rear. That’s the proper
trick.”
Hooker did not attempt an argument; he left the maneuver to be carried
through by Sleuth, whom he continued to follow without proffering
advice.
Crouching low when the road was reached, they darted across it, one
after the other, circling until they could approach the stable of the
Sages from the rear. To their surprise, they perceived that the small
back door of the building also stood open. Their nerves taut and
tingling, they presently found themselves beside that door, where, with
one hand on his pistol and the other upheld as a signal for caution,
Piper listened intently.
“Can you hear anything?” whispered Roy.
“No,” admitted Sleuth, “nothing that seems significant to me. I’m going
to look in. Keep still.”
Thrusting his head forward, he peered into the gloomy interior of the
building. After a few glances, reaching backward without turning, he
beckoned for the other lad to follow, and entered, walking on his toes.
They were in the very center of the stable floor when a sudden stamping
and a snort caused them both to leap backward, Piper jerking up the hand
in which his nickle-plated revolver quivered tremulously. After a moment
he drew a breath of relief, turning a pallid face toward Roy as he
explained in a whisper:
“Nothing but their cow in the tie-up yonder.”
“Thunder!” sighed Sleuth’s companion. “She gave me an awful start. Don’t
look like we’ll find anything here, Pipe.”
“Wait. I have a theory into which I’ve been led by the sight of the open
doors, but it’s best to proceed carefully and not overlook anything.”
Ten seconds later, not five feet from the slightly opened front doors,
Piper discovered something that added in no small degree to his
self-esteem. Upon the floor near a small grain box was a pool of blood,
and beside that pool he perceived some shreds like ravellings from a
torn cloth.
“Our man was here, Hooker,” he said.
“_Was_ here?” muttered Roy. “Then you think he’s gone?”
“I think his injury was bound up right here in this stable while he sat
there upon that box. I don’t believe he did the work of bandaging the
wound himself.”
“He must be in the house.”
“Don’t jump at conclusions. That’s the trouble with most people. That’s
how they lead themselves astray. The fellow came here. He must have been
pretty badly used up, too. Somebody tied up his injuries. Isn’t it
likely they realized the man would be traced by the blood-drippings? And
is it likely, in that case, that they would think of trying to hide him
here?”
“Why, I don’t know——”
“I don’t _know_, but I’m using logic, reasoning, horse sense. I saw
something as we entered by that open back door which makes me confident
that the fellow continued his flight in that direction. Beyond the
orchard, out there, lie the woods to the north of Turkey Hill.”
“You think he hit out for those woods, do you?”
“I think so, but unless I can find evidence to confirm my belief we’ll
not try to follow him haphazard.”
They left the stable by the door through which they had entered, and
when they were outside Sleuth once more fell to searching the ground
with his eyes.
“Tracks!” he muttered. “There were two of them—two of them! And here’s
the proof that our man was one!”
He picked up a lump of half frozen clay which plainly had fallen from
the boot of a man. It was the sort of clay into which the fugitive had
slumped when the brook bank gave way beneath his feet.
“You’re a wonder, Pipe,” declared Roy, his admiration unrestrained at
last.
“Spare the compliments,” said Sleuth briskly. “We’re off again.”
The trail led through the orchard, beyond which it was plain enough in
the hoarfrost which covered the ground.
“And these tracks weren’t made so long ago, either,” asserted Piper. “It
won’t be so easy to follow them after we get into the woods. Too bad.”
In truth, it was not an easy matter, and they were proceeding with
exasperating slowness when of a sudden Piper whirled and clutched his
companion, exclaiming in a hoarse whisper:
“Hark! Some one coming! Get to cover, Hooker—lively!”
Near by was a fallen tree. Sleuth cleared it with a bound, flinging
himself down behind the thick trunk. His example was followed by Roy,
and there, amid a mass of leaves which the wind had swept into a little
hollow, they knelt, peering over the fallen tree.
Barely were they thus hidden when another boy came crashing at a run
through some bushes and appeared in full view.
It was Fred Sage!