RENFRO TAKES THE EYEBROWS.
Renfro’s hand trembled so that he could hardly pull his knife from his
trousers pocket. It was followed by a notebook, from which he tore two
sheets of paper. Quickly he opened the blade, the thinnest of the three
in his knife, warmed it with several breaths and then slipped it under
one of the frozen eyebrows on the window pane.
Zip! It came off--frozen, intact, as solid as it had been when left
on the frozen pane. Carefully Renfro wrapped it in one of the pieces
of paper. By the same process the other portion of an eyebrow was
likewise treated. With both precious packages of what he considered a
magnificent clue stored safely in his most secure inner pocket Renfro
shouldered his now empty paper bag and started toward home.
The desire to journey out to the big Hall house was almost overpowering
him. But wisdom warned him against making the trip. It was late--it
would be eight o’clock before he could get home. If he arrived later
than that there would surely be a family conclave held, the decision
of which might mean that tho he continued to carry his paper route he
would be given no time to either get new subscribers or to follow the
clue which fate had thrust into his hand.
Renfro was almost stunned with his good fortune. In his pocket was the
only clue which, according to the latest reports he had heard, had yet
been found. And he was going to keep it and work it out himself. The
chief of detectives had laughed once, the next laugh would be at his
expense, Renfro vowed, and because he had discovered a clue to the
identity of the person or persons who had kidnaped Helen Wier.
All the way home on the car he kept his hand pressed over the pocket
in which was the clue. Off the car, walking down the home avenue he
watched surreptitiously for a possible bandit. No lady of rank ever
guarded her jewels any more closely than Renfro Horn did the two
mysterious eyebrows.
All around him the bitter wind stung and lashed and hurt like a keen
edged knife. It drove white hard clouds across the sky and at times
hid the moon. But still it was a much lighter night than the one
preceding it had been. Neither Helen Wier nor any other girl could be
successfully kidnaped on a night like this.
“But detectives could follow a clue mighty well,” Renfro turned in at
his own walk, and patted his chest, “only right now they haven’t any
clue.”
His father who had just come past the police headquarters on his way
home from the office, gave testimony that his conclusion was right. The
clue suggested by Miss Turpin about the men implicated in the election
frauds was being traced down but no one hoped for any results.
While they were at dinner Mrs. Horn who had been doubly uneasy over
Renfro’s lateness and also his father’s, voiced her complaints in
fretful language. Mr. Horn, provoked as always by his wife’s fussing
moods issued sharp orders to Renfro, “No trips out at night onto that
route,” he said, “and hereafter you be home at six thirty. Do you
understand?”
Renfro nodded, and reaching into his pocket pulled out the rules
Morrison had given him the first day. “Dad,” he said soberly, “Every
business has its own rules, and the Globe’s carrier system has its own.
You expect your employees to follow yours if they expect to rise in
your business. If I’m to rise to success with the Globe I’ll have to
follow these.”
His mother’s eyes were distinctly hostile but Renfro looked away from
them straight into his father’s interested ones, then back to his paper
and read his rules in a clear, determined boyish voice--
“Never fail to deliver a subscriber.
“A good carrier will get two new subscribers and increase his route two
each week.
“Bills must be paid when due. Only lame ducks pay part of their bills.”
Mrs. Horn sniffed scornfully, caught a gleam of authority in her
husband’s eyes, rose with a rather indifferent apology and strolled
into the library. At a nod from his father Renfro read on--
“Collect your route thoroughly once a week. The meanest man in the
world is the man who would beat a newspaper carrier.
“Tell your customers you come thru the snow and rain and cold six times
a week to their door, for their accommodation, and ask them if they
can’t arrange once a week to have your money for you.
“Get your delivery thru as quickly as possible. The mothers want to
read the Globe before the fathers come home for supper.
“And remember the quitters fail while the boys who respond to
responsibility always succeed as boys and as men.”
When he finished his reading Renfro carefully folded the paper and put
it back into his pocket. He heard his father cough, looked up, caught
his wink and rather low declaration, “I recall my command. These rules
are about the best things I ever heard. Obey them--that’s all.”
Renfro ventured audible thanks. But he cautiously remained in the
dining room when his father left for the library. He knew that his
father would have it out with his mother and that it would be much
better if he were not a listener to their argument. Besides he wanted
to see Mary.
With his hands in his pockets he strolled into the kitchen, watched
Mary stir something into a batter and then carelessly asked, “Did you
see Captain Pete today, Mary?”
To his surprise Mary nodded, “You did, Mary,” he ejaculated, “How did
he look?”
“Cross--fierce like to be sure,” Mary returned. “I didn’t buy none of
his rabbits. They weren’t fresh like. And he had the nerve to argue
with me that frozen rabbits is allus good even if they wuz froze the
week before last.”
A straight look at Mary, and a little delay on Renfro’s part. Then he
smiled scornfully at himself. Experience had taught him that no one
could be trusted better than Mary. Slowly he pulled the two pieces of
paper out of his pocket, laid them on the table, unfolded them so as
not to disturb the arrangement of their contents and called Mary.
In a low, guarded tone he told Mary of the man who had crouched at
Judge Wier’s window, of his trying to follow him and of the finding of
the eyebrows. “They’re my clue, Mary,” he ended proudly, “You’re going
to help me find the man who has these missing eyebrows and who kidnaped
or who helped kidnap Helen Wier--aren’t you?” And he breathed deeply.
“Without the help or knowledge of any member of the detective force.”
“Yes, yes,” Mary whispered, her sibilant tones high with excitement.
“I’ll help you and just us two will do it. I know how to follow that
clue. Them detective lessons will come in handy now. I was just
beginning to think that mebbe I had wasted my money but now I know
and--”
“Mary,” Renfro’s hand clasped over her arm, “Did you notice this
afternoon? Were Captain Pete’s eyebrows--”
“Why I couldn’t see them,” she whispered back. “He had a long scarf
over his head and Hooch, it came clean down to his very eyes. You don’t
think it was him--do you, Hooch?”
Renfro shook his head. “But we’re going to watch everybody who is old
and who might be a criminal or a maniac or who could have had some
reason for kidnaping Helen Wier. In other words we’ve got to find the
man with the missing eyebrows.”
Mary nodded vigorously.
“And, Mary,” Renfro was folding the paper again, “We’ve got to be very
careful of these same missing eyebrows which are our only definite
clue. I’ll hide them away carefully.”
His mother called him just then to hunt her a book he had been reading
a few days before. She was still decidedly cool in her treatment toward
him. But Renfro was more courteous than usual and before he left the
room to go to bed, she was quite motherly to him.
In bed Renfro reviewed the day’s happenings and tried to map out a plan
for the rest of the week. He must do his route work first. That was his
job. Then when each day’s work was over he could follow the clue. If
only the detectives failed to find Helen Wier he was sure he could.
“And I must get my new subscribers,” he was ready to close his eyes.
“The paper says two new subscribers a week, but my record must be five
a day for a time if I get those turkeys. And I must have them. I’ve
promised Mary.”
Before he left for school the next morning he slipped into the kitchen
and bantered with Mary a minute or two. “I’ve earned two of your
turkeys, Mary,” he told her, “So be finding out ways to dress and cook
them.”
Then he explained to her the system he was following in order to win
them. At the back door he gave her a last word of advice. “Mary, if
Captain Pete or any mean looking stranger comes to our door, look at
his eyebrows if you have to sit on him to do it,” he smiled.
“All right, Hooch,” Mary promised in return.