CHAPTER VI--THE FLAMING HAND

As Green had told Forrester, he had some theories of his own about the

people who called themselves the "Friends of the Poor." Like Humphrey,

he did not believe that the West Side held any clues. He was more

inclined to believe that the guilty people could be located within a

comparatively short distance of the tree in which the victims were

ordered to leave their money.

This theory of Green's, however, had developed solely from the fact that

all activities of the band had ceased as soon as the ground was covered

with snow. With snow on the ground, according to his hypothesis, it

would be a comparatively easy matter to follow any tracks from the

tree--at least for some distance. If similar tracks could be discovered

near any house or houses in the neighborhood, a smart detective would

have an excellent clue. On the other hand, Green conjectured that if a

West Side gang were involved they would logically visit the tree in an

automobile, and therefore have little fear of giving the detectives a

clue from any tracks which they might leave between the auto and the

tree.

The fact that the detectives who had watched the tree had failed thus

far to hear or see anything, strengthened Green in this conviction.

During their watch on the tree it was probable that all the detectives

had remained at some little distance so as not to frighten off anybody

approaching it with evil intent. For people living in the country, and

familiar with the locality, it should be an easy matter to approach the

tree noiselessly in the dark and then get away without being observed.

In connection with these theories Green had worked out a plan, which

Forrester's commission now enabled him to put into effect.

The murder of George Nevins, and the demand made on Forrester, coming

close together, led Green to believe that the "Friends of the Poor,"

made bolder by past success, were now making a big drive on the rich men

of the city. It was more than probable, therefore, that other notices

had been sent out, and that almost any night some victim could be

expected to approach the tree and leave his payment. This, of course,

would also mean a visit by the criminals.

On Wednesday evening, just as dusk was falling, Green dropped off the

train, carrying a heavy bundle in each hand. He had carefully studied an

automobile road map of the vicinity and found no difficulty in locating

the oak tree. Jasper lane sloped away in both directions from a point

opposite the tree so that Green could see a considerable distance in

either direction. After a careful inspection of his surroundings, to

make sure that he was not observed, he swiftly plunged into the heavy

undergrowth at the side of the road directly facing the tree.

Green had carefully timed his arrival to give him a few minutes of

daylight to arrange his apparatus, which consisted of a small storage

battery and a powerful automobile spotlight. He drove a stick into the

ground and attached the spotlight to it. The light was so arranged that

it could not be seen by anyone passing on the roadway before dark. At

the same time the light had a clear space through which to throw its

beam directly on the tree when the current was switched on. Green

connected the storage battery to the spotlight and tried the switch a

couple of times to make sure that it was in working order. Then he sat

down beside his apparatus, leaned his back against a tree, and prepared

to await developments.

After darkness fell he found his vigil somewhat tiresome. He dared not

smoke, nor strike a light of any kind, so it was impossible to even take

note of the time. Under such circumstances time seems to stretch to an

interminable length and the nerves get on edge. Green at length felt

these effects from the waiting game he had started to play.

During his many years on the police force, and since beginning his

career as a private detective, his work had been confined to

well-lighted city streets. Lately, much of his time had been spent in

brilliantly lighted resorts, keeping an appraising eye on the

after-business-hours amusements of trusted employees. To step from these

places to the thick woods on a dark, still night was something of a

change, and as time passed Green was willing to admit it.

He had never before believed that such absolute quiet could be possible.

All Nature slept. No chirp of bird voices, or hum of insects, could be

heard. There was no sound save the occasional rustling of leaves

overhead, the distant and weird call of locomotives on the railroad, and

once in a great while the snapping of a twig in the underbrush, or the

sound of something dropping through the trees. These were just the

ordinary sounds of the woods at night, but to Green's inexperienced ears

they might mean anything, and many times one hand shot out to the switch

on his lighting apparatus while the other grasped the automatic in his

pocket. But each sound had stood by itself, and Green's nervous

alertness relaxed as time wore on.

Suddenly Green's ears caught the sound of a stone overturned on the

roadway. This was more like the sounds he had been expecting and his

body stiffened to attention. A moment later he heard the sound again, a

little nearer, and then a third time it came from the road directly

opposite to him. To Green it could mean nothing but the cautious

footsteps of someone approaching the tree. He continued to listen

intently. Sure enough, there was a slight scratching sound in the

direction of the tree. This was Green's long awaited opportunity.

Abruptly he threw the switch and a broad beam of light made the great

trunk of the oak stand out against the black background of the woods.

The sight was not at all what Green had expected to see. He quickly

switched off the light and swore volubly yet softly. All that he had

discovered was a night-prowling cat in the act of climbing the tree,

probably in search of birds' nests.

The discovery that this sound had its source in a common, everyday house

cat, greatly relieved the tension on Green's nerves. He readjusted

himself to a more comfortable position and for some time paid little

attention to the various sounds about him. Gradually, however, he became

conscious of a sound that he had not heard before. To Green it appeared

something like the whistling of the wind just before a summer

thunderstorm, but looking up, he saw that the sky was unclouded and

filled with a multitude of twinkling stars.

The sound continued at intervals, growing louder on each occasion, and

at last Green realized, with a start, that it was distinctly like a

human sigh. In a moment Green's phlegmatic constitution was upset. He

became conscious of a slight chill in his spine and a peculiar tingling

in his scalp. When, a moment later, he distinctly heard a metallic

rattle like a person in heavy chains trying to move about, he swore

audibly for comfort and promised himself that if he ever got back to the

city alive, he would resign forthwith.

The sound of his own voice relieved him a little, and reason reasserted

itself. Neither victims depositing money, nor the criminals who might be

seeking it, would be apt to make noises like that. On the other hand,

Green had never believed in the supernatural. He ascribed everything to

a human agency, and he now argued that for whatever reason the sounds

were made, some human being was back of them. He resolved that the next

time a sound came to him he would throw on the light.

But that next sound was more uncanny than anything that had gone before,

and as Green listened he temporarily forgot about the light. What he

heard was the muffled tolling of a bell. The sound rose and fell on the

still night; now seemingly close at hand; now floating far away.

Green was sure that it must be very close to midnight, and even though

it had been earlier in the evening, it was not likely that anyone would

be ringing a church or school bell. Moreover, he was confident that the

sound he heard originated in his immediate neighborhood. Gradually the

sound of the tolling bell grew fainter and seemed to drift away. Green

threw on the switch again. He could see the tree and the space about it

clearly, but there was no sign of anyone, and he could detect no

movement in the undergrowth. Even the cat had silently disappeared.

Green allowed the light to remain on for a minute, while he listened

intently, and keenly inspected the scene before him. Then he switched

the light off once more and resumed his watch. But Green was recalling

certain eerie stories he had heard in years gone by, and there in the

dark and silent woods many disturbing doubts besieged him.

For a time his eyes were blinded by the recent glare of his light, and

the darkness shut him in like a wall. After a while, however, his eyes

again became accustomed to the darkness and he could dimly see the gray

road in the starlight. At the same moment that his vision had adjusted

itself to the darkness, Green was conscious of something like a moving

shadow in the roadway before him. He heard no sound, yet he was

confident that someone or something had stopped in front of the tree. He

did not hesitate this time but instantly threw on his light. It brought

out in bold relief the figure of a woman walking up the path toward the

tree. She stopped abruptly at the unexpected burst of light and Green

realized that she would instinctively turn to see its source, allowing

him to see her face.

Indeed, she had already begun that turning movement when Green's vision

was suddenly shut off by a broad hand that covered his eyes, and he felt

a long arm encircle his body. He struggled desperately, but the person

who held him was too powerful. Green was like a child in that vise-like

grasp. He felt a precipitate movement of the body of this person,

followed by a crash in the roadway. Green needed nothing more to tell

him that his lighting outfit had been kicked aside and probably

destroyed.

Then Green felt himself unexpectedly propelled out into the roadway by a

pair of powerful arms. He lost his balance and fell at full length. The

dust rose in clouds about him, momentarily stifling and blinding him.

All thought of the supernatural had now been driven from Green's mind.

He had plainly seen a woman who could not possibly be a ghostly

visitant, and he had been very roughly treated by some other person who

could not for one moment be considered as a misty, disembodied spirit.

Green scrambled to his feet, pulling out his automatic as he did so, and

stared about him. As far as the darkness would permit his gaze to

penetrate Green could see no strange forms or movement anywhere, and the

silence of the woods was unbroken. Whoever had been there had made good

their escape during the time Green was stretched in the road.

Green stood with his back toward the tree. Glancing warily in all

directions he slowly turned to face it. Then, as he looked toward the

tree he became aware of a white, or greenish-white, misty glow that

seemed to come from it. Gradually this light increased until he seemed

to be able to dimly make out the small hole in the tree. Suddenly a more

pronounced mass of light appeared. It was not a bright light; simply a

hazy, greenish glow in the darkness, though it seemed to flame and smoke

in a weird, peculiar manner. Green remembered having read or heard

somewhere that specter forms were supposed to emit just such a light.

While he stared, wild-eyed and shaking, the light apparently took the

form of a hand pointing at him. And as he continued to look in petrified

amazement Green realized that it _was_ a hand--a flaming, smoking,

ghastly hand. And then he saw also that the hand was slowly turning. At

last he could perceive quite distinctly that the flaming hand was

pointing in the direction from which he had come.

Green had had enough. He took the hint and started down the road as fast

as his legs could carry him.

The Secret Toll · 第 6 / 20 章