LOOKING FOR A CLUE
"Hello, Jack," called Rand, meeting the former on the street the
following morning, hurrying along in his usual fashion, "what's
the latest?"
"About what?" asked Jack in turn.
"About everything. Anything new about the robbing of Judge Taylor's
office the other night?"
"Haven't heard much yet," replied Jack. "I was just going around
there to see if they had found out anything more."
"Looking for clues?" questioned Rand.
"Not so much for clues as news," responded Jack. "Perhaps I can
pick up some of both. You never can tell when they'll pop up. Don't
you want to go along?"
"And see how you do it," laughed Rand. "I don't mind if I do.
Written up yesterday's story yet?"
"About your heroic rescue of a lovely maiden from the angry waves.
Of course; did it last night. Want to see it? I was going to put
a head on it: 'Heroic Rescue by a Creston Boy.'"
"You don't mean it, Jack Blake!"
"Wait until you see it on the first page, double leaded, with a
scarehead."
"Really and truly?"
"Really and truly."
"Please don't, Jack."
"Why, don't you want it?" asked Jack in mock surprise. "I thought
you would be delighted to see your name in print."
"You know I don't want to be made ridiculous!"
"All right," responded Jack, "I'll kill it if you say so, but it
would have made a sensation."
"I don't doubt that," laughed Rand, "but I'd rather not be the
victim. I wonder," he went on musingly, "if we will ever see them
again."
"Who?"
"The Whildens."
"Hardly likely," replied Jack. "If we do they will probably have
forgotten us."
"Still I'd like to know how she came out."
"Oh, she came out all right," replied Jack lightly. "A little cold
water won't hurt her. You know, the doctor said she was out of
danger.
"It's a curious thing how they got in," he went on after a little
pause, his thought turning on the robbery, which was uppermost in
his mind just then.
"I don't see anything curious about it," returned Rand.
"You don't!" cried Jack. "Maybe you can explain how they did it
then."
"I don't know as it needs any explaining," retorted Rand. "They
got in a trough of the waves, and--"
"Trough of the waves!" cried Jack.
"What are you talking about?"
"Why, about the Whildens, of course. What are you talking about?"
"Oh, pshaw! I was talking about the burglars."
"Oh, I see," said Rand. "How did they get in?"
"That is what we would all like to know," replied Jack. "There isn't
anything to show how they got in or how they went out, unless they
went out through the door and locked it after them."
"That is possible, isn't it?" asked Rand.
"I suppose it is possible," admitted Jack, "but I don't see how
they managed it."
"Not if they had a key?"
"It must have been that way," agreed Jack, "but where did they get
this key? That don't lessen the puzzle. It was a Yale lock, and
keys to them are not to be had easily, and they must have had one
for the front door, too."
"Well, if they could get the one they could get the other," said
Rand.
"I suppose so," agreed Jack. "It probably wouldn't be much harder
to get two than one."
"Why couldn't they get in through a window?" pursued Rand.
"The windows were all locked on the inside as well as the doors."
"I see. They must have been professionals."
"Then I don't see what they wanted there."
"Why not?"
"Because they wouldn't get enough swag to make it worth while,"
answered Jack,
"Swag?" questioned Rand.
"Oh, that's slang for plunder," explained Jack.
"You seem to be pretty well up in their slang," commented Rand.
"Oh, that's part of the newspaper business," was Jack's response.
By this time they had come to the building in which Judge Taylor
had his office, which was on one of the main street corners of the
town. A little description of the building is necessary here to
make the situation clear. It was an old-fashioned, two-story brick
structure, having been erected some years before. At the time of
its erection there were no other buildings near it, and there were
windows on all four sides. Some time later another building had been
put on the adjoining lot, leaving a space of a little more than a
foot between the two, thus making the windows on that side practically
useless. The wall of the other building upon that side was blank,
and it was upon this space that the side windows of the judge's
office opened. In the rear was a yard of the width of the building
and about twenty feet deep, with a low fence upon the side next to
the street.
"Let's take a look around before we go upstairs," proposed Jack.
"All right," responded Rand. "I'm green at this business, you know."
Going in at the front door Jack led the way into the hall, from
which a broad flight of stairs ascended to the second story. By
the side of the stairs was a narrow passage, through which Jack
continued to a small hallway in the rear, in which were two doors,
one giving access to the cellar, the other opening on the yard in
the rear.
"Do you think that they could have come in through the cellar?"
asked Rand, when they entered the back hall.
"I had thought of that," replied Jack, "but every one says that
these doors were bolted, and I don't see how they could bolt the
doors after they had gone out."
"It does seem just a little difficult," admitted Rand.
Going out in the yard, the boys examined the rear of the building.
"They couldn't have got to the windows up there without a ladder,"
decided Rand, after a study of the situation. "And you say the
windows were fastened?"
"That's what they say," responded Jack, "and I don't believe burglars
carry ladders around in their kits. Besides there is an electric
light right here, so that a ladder could be seen quite plainly from
the street. "I wonder," he mused, looking into the space between
the buildings, "if any one could get up through there."
"Not unless he could fly," returned Rand. "There isn't room enough
for a man to get in there, and he couldn't manage a ladder if he
got in."
"A boy might," remarked Jack.
"But this wasn't a boy's work," objected Rand.
"Can't always tell," replied Jack, "almost anything is possible."
Going back into the building, Jack led the way up to Judge Taylor's
office, where they found an officer in consultation with the judge.
"Good morning, judge," said Jack as they entered. "We came in to
see if there was anything new about the robbery."
"Good morning, boys," replied the judge. "Looking for news, as
usual, eh, Jack? Well, I am sorry to say there isn't any. We are
just as much in the dark as ever. It is beyond my comprehension
how any one could get in and out of this place and not leave any
signs to show how they did it."
"It beats me," chimed in the officer. "It was a good job, too.
Looks as if there were two or three in it, the way they handled
the safe," pointing to the large, old-fashioned safe, good enough
in its day, but not offering much resistance to modern tools, which
was standing in the middle of the room.
"They certainly made junk of it," remarked Rand; "how did they do
it?"
"Steel wedges," replied the officer. "It wasn't very much of a job
for yeggmen, such as these must have been. They drove the wedges
in alongside of the door and burst it open,"
"But didn't that make a good deal of noise?"
"Not if they used pieces of cloth to deaden the sound of the blows,"
explained the officer.
"Did they get very much?" asked Rand.
"Not very much," replied the judge, "some papers and a few coins."
"Hello!" interjected Jack, who had picked up a sheet of paper from
the floor.
"Found something?" asked the judge; "what is it?"
"What do you make of that?" asked Jack, handing him the paper.
"Not very much," answered the judge, looking it over. "There seems
to be a smudge of dirt on it, that is all."
"Nor I," chimed in the officer. "Nothing there."
"Looks to me like finger marks," said Rand.
"That's it, exactly!" cried Jack excitedly. "Look at it this way!"
"I see," said the judge, "some one has left the impression of a
dusty hand."
"It was a small hand, too," went on Jack, "not much bigger than
mine."
"That seems right, too," assented the judge, "but what do you make
of it?"
"It was a boy or a small man who made it," continued Jack.
"That's logical," agreed the judge, "but--"
"That may be," criticized the officer, "but I don't see that it
leads anywhere."
"One minute," returned Jack, "his hand was dusty because he came
in through a dusty way."
"Plato, thou reasoneth well," laughed the judge, "but we are still
up against the original puzzle. What was that way?"
"How long since these windows have been opened?" asked Jack, going
to one of the windows that looked on the wall of the next building.
"Not in years, I think," answered the judge. "Why?"
Without replying Jack opened one of the windows and looked out;
then going to a second he did the same.
"You don't think that they came in that way, do you?" questioned
the officer.
"What do you expect to find, Jack?" asked Rand.
"There you are!" he cried triumphantly, when he came to the third
window; "there is where they got in!"
"How do you make that out?" demanded the judge.
"See there!" replied Jack, "this window sill is almost free of dust,
while the others have half an inch or so on them. It was rubbed off
of this one by some one climbing through; see, there is the print
of a hand---"
"By the shade of Coke, I think you are right!" exclaimed the judge,
"but how in the world could any one get up to this window?"
"A boy might work his way up between the walls," answered Jack.
"Lots of boys could do it."
"I guess you have hit it," assented the officer. "Then the boy opened
the doors and the others walked in as easily as if they owned the
place. A man with one eye could see it now."
"And went out the same way," concluded the judge. "But why did they
need to make such a mystery of it?"
"Wanted to give us something to think about, I guess," hazarded the
officer. "Perhaps they wanted to make it look like an inside job.
Looks as if there were two or three men and a boy mixed up in it.
That's a due, anyway, and I will send word around the country to
look out for them."
"Do you think that they came from around here?" asked Rand.
"Don't think so. I don't think we have any one here smart enough
to pull off a job like that. Hello, what now?" as Jack, acting upon
a sudden thought, rushed from the room. "What is he after now?"
"I don't know, I'm sure," answered Rand. "Just thought of something,
I guess. He often does that when he has an idea strike him."
"Here he comes back," said the officer a moment later, when Jack
was heard bounding up the stairs. "I wonder what he has got now?"
"Found something more?" questioned the judge, when Jack came into
the room with a rush.
"Found these between the buildings," replied Jack, showing a thin
steel wedge and a small steel cold chisel. "It just happened to
strike me that they might have forgotten something, so I took a
look around and I found these."
"Some of the tools they used on the safe," said the officer, taking
them. "Nice bit of work they are. It wasn't any burglar who made
them. Now, if we could find where they were made we might get on
the track of these fellows."
"Why, I saw one just like that in Wilson's blacksmith shop the
other day," observed Rand.
"Wasn't just like it, was it?" asked the officer.
"Looks like the same one," replied Rand, taking the chisel in his
hand.
"Guess they wouldn't look so much alike if they were together,"
demurred the officer, though he noted it down with the thought,
"That's clue worth following."
"See if you can find anything else," suggested the judge, but a
careful search about the office failed to reveal any more clues,
and the boys finally went off to see, as Jack expressed it, what
they could pick up on the outside.
"Come in again, Jack," said the judge when the boys were leaving,
"always glad to see you. You have cleared up part of the mystery,
anyhow. You are so much better a detective than we are," he added
laughingly, "that I don't know but what we shall have to put the
case in your hands."
"Oh, it wasn't anything, judge," responded Jack, "just putting two
and two together."