PAUL LOOKS INTO THE MATTER
Jack was sitting on the Morrison porch. It was about eight o’clock in
the evening of the same day. Ken came walking up through the yard.
“Hello, Ken.”
“Hello, Jack. What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for Paul.”
Ken came onto the porch and sat down beside his friend. “Did Paul call
you too?” he asked.
“That’s right. He told me over the telephone that he had something
important to talk over.”
“He told me the same thing. I wonder what it is.”
“Perhaps it is something about the fire.”
“Well, let’s not guess, but wait for Paul to tell us instead.”
Several minutes later, Paul came out. “Hello, fellows,” he called.
“Hello, Paul.”
“Hello, Paul. What is it you have to tell us?” asked Jack.
“Let’s go where we will have some privacy,” answered Paul.
Paul led them into the garage and the three boys piled into the back of
the car. “Now,” said Ken, “you can tell us without anyone overhearing
us. Don’t keep us in suspense any longer or we will collapse of
curiosity.”
“First tell us how you feel,” spoke up Jack. “Any after effects from
the smoke?”
“I feel perfectly all right,” was the answer. “Now, this is what I want
to talk to you about.”
“Yes, what is it all about?”—that from Ken.
“Jack,” began Paul, “do you still have that white card? You know the
one I mean.”
“Of course. I still have it, certainly. What about it?”
“Will you show it to me?”
Jack began to look through his pockets. Finally he confessed, “I guess
I don’t have it with me. I must have left it home, in my other coat
pocket.”
“What about the card?” asked Ken.
“Only this,” replied Paul gravely. And he showed them the card. “Is it
the same card?” he asked.
Jack examined it very closely. “To me it appears as though it is the
very self-same card. How did you get it?”
“Now listen closely,” whispered Paul. The other two boys leaned over.
“I rushed down the burning stairs to find the room in which the child
was. Well, I was groping along the wall with my hands because I
couldn’t see a thing. I came upon the door and I moved my hand up and
down trying to find the knob when I came upon something sticking in the
doorway. Without thinking any further, I grabbed it and shoved it into
my pocket.” Paul paused to add emphasis to his forthcoming statement.
“And that thing was this card,” he concluded.
The boys gasped. “This card!” exclaimed Jack.
“Are you sure?” asked Ken.
“Absolutely positive,” asserted Paul.
“But how did it get there?”
“That is something I don’t know and which I would very much like to
know.”
For about a minute the boys sat there in silence, overcome with
amazement. Jack jumped out of the car. “Come on, fellows,” he called.
“Where to?” asked Paul.
“To my house. I want to find that card.”
Jack was so excited, he had difficulty in restraining himself from
running. The other boys kept up with him, walking briskly. At the
Stormways home, Jack rushed up the steps of the porch. “You wait here,”
he called over his shoulder to his companions.
Two minutes later he came rushing out of the doorway. “Here it is,” he
cried, waving the white card.
The two cards were compared; they were identical in every respect.
“This is getting to be serious,” whispered Ken.
“Terribly serious,” added Ken. “We must do something about it. The man
must be absolutely crazy.”
“Crazy is not the word,” said Paul. “Dangerous is more fitting. If he
is permitted to roam the streets without being stopped, only God knows
what damage he will do and what crimes he may commit.”
“But what can we do?” Jack questioned anxiously. “Our suspicions are
only a hunch. These cards may only be an accident.”
“No,” said Paul, shaking his head. “My opinion is that this is no
accident but the work of a distorted mind.”
The boys sat down on the porch. At a loss as to the meaning of it all,
they remained silent. Paul whispered, “I’ll tell you what we can do,
though.”
“What?”
“Let’s go over and see Captain Bob.”
“What for?” queried Ken.
“I want to ask his opinion on the origin of the fire.”
“Well, that won’t hurt any,” remarked Jack.
The three boys set off. Captain Bob himself opened the door for them
and led them into the living room. Turning to Paul, the Captain said,
“You are the boy that dashed into the burning building this afternoon,
aren’t you?”
“Yes, but it was really nothing.”
Captain Bob sat himself down and pointed the boys to seats. “Well,” he
drawled, “you are a modest boy. But if it hadn’t been for you, the old
folks and the child would have burned to cinders.”
“If I had not entered, one of the other boys would have,” he answered.
“We were the first on the scene, you know.”
“Yes, so I understand. But what is it I can do for you boys?”
Paul leaned forward in his chair. “Captain Bob,” he said, “we came over
to ask you your opinion on the origin of the fire.”
“Just what do you want to know?”
Paul hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put his question. He
said, “What I want to know, Captain, is whether you think the fire
was—er,—an accident, or whether you think someone started the fire.”
“You are asking very serious questions,” replied Captain, knitting his
brows.
“Yes, I know, but I am very much interested and—”
“May I ask why you should be interested?” asked the old man shrewdly.
“It’s only because,—er,—when I dashed into the building, I noticed
something very odd about the fire.”
“Just what do you mean?”
“Well, as we ran up to the house, we noticed smoke pouring out of the
front door. I dashed inside by the back door and then I saw that most
of the smoke and fire seemed to be at the threshold of the front door.
Now that is very odd.”
“Yes, you are quite right, my boy,” answered Captain Bob. “As a matter
of fact, the front door caved in first. However, I came to the fire a
little too late to really judge the cause or origin of the fire. But it
did seem to me that there was something odd about the whole thing.”
“Was there anything about the fire that would lead you to believe that
it was an accident or perhaps—er,—otherwise?” asked Paul, pressing
his point.
Captain Bob scratched his chin thoughtfully and said, “My dear boy, you
are asking some very serious questions that may get you into trouble.”
Paul insisted. “Just the same, would you form an opinion?”
“No, I really couldn’t because, as I said before, I came to the fire
too late. I had no chance to look into the cause of the fire and now
that the house is a heap of ashes, the chances of finding any clue is
very slight. Suppose you tell me your opinion, my boy.”
“To be quite frank, Captain, I think that the fire was started by some
pyromaniac.”
The Captain sat up in his chair. “What makes you think so?” he demanded
suddenly.
Paul hesitated. He did not want to give himself away. “Just a hunch,”
he replied.
Captain Bob sank back into his chair. For what seemed a very long
time there was absolute silence. The Captain seemed to be musing over
something and the boys had nothing more to say. Paul rose and his
friends did likewise. “Thank you, Captain Bob,” said Paul. “I guess we
will be going now.”
Escorting them to the door, the Captain said, “Don’t thank me. I am
glad you came.” He hesitated. “And,—er,—don’t you go around talking
about a pyromaniac, my boy. It may get you into trouble.”
“I won’t, Captain,” promised Paul.
“Goodnight, boys.”
“Goodnight, Captain Bob.”
The boys walked along for some few steps in silence. Ken spoke up.
“That talk with the captain didn’t help much, did it, Paul?”
“No, very little. But I have now become more convinced than ever that
the fire was the work of a mentally distorted person.”
“You count me in on that,” added Jack. “I certainly agree with you. But
what can we do about it, that is the problem.”
“Doesn’t seem as if we can do anything for the present,” muttered Ken.
“Guess you’re right,” answered Paul thoughtfully. A moment later he
added, “Tomorrow let us try and obtain a better description of the man
from your sister, Betty, Ken. If she can tell us a few things on how he
looks and the sort of clothes he wears, that would help a lot.”
“It certainly would,” agreed Ken. “We will try it tomorrow.”
“Yes. In the meanwhile there is nothing else we can do tonight. So I am
for going home,” announced Paul.
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
The boys separated and went home. The following morning, they met again
at Ken’s home. Taking Betty out into the yard, the boys tried to get
some information from her about the man who had taken her for a walk
and then deserted her at the end of the town. But the child had already
forgotten him entirely and their efforts were in vain.