TOM'S INTEREST AROUSED
On that same day a solemn little procession picked its way carefully
down the trail from the storm-wrecked summit of the mountain. Four of
the county officials bore a stretcher over which was tied a white sheet.
With the party was Tom Slade who had guided the authorities to the
grewsome discovery of the previous night. In this work, and in the
subsequent assistance which he rendered, he was absent from camp
throughout the day. This unpleasant business had not been advertised in
camp.
Of the tragic end of Aaron Harlowe nothing more was known. Several days
previously he had come to the neighborhood in his gray roadster, a
fugitive, with the stigma of cowardice upon his conscience. He had tried
to compromise with his conscience, as it appeared, by enclosing a sum
of money in an envelope and addressing it to the father of the child he
had run down. But his death had prevented the mailing of this. The
telltale finger of accusation was pointed at him from the newspaper
which was in his car.
His identity was established to the satisfaction of the authorities by
the name upon the license and registration cards found with his body.
Why he had ascended the mountain and remained there several days only to
be crushed to death in the storm, no one could guess. The conclusion of
the authorities was that he was crazed by fear and remorse. This seemed
not improbable, for his weak attempt to make amends with money showed
him to be not altogether bad.
With the taking of the body by the authorities, Tom's participation in
the tragic business ended. Yet there were one or two things which stuck
in his mind and puzzled him. There had been a light on the mountain
before ever this Harlowe had gone up there. There had been a crude shack
near the summit. The light had disappeared amid the storm. The boys,
watching the storm from the pavilion, had seen the light disappear. Did
Harlowe, therefore, climb the mountain to _escape_ man or to _seek_ man?
Harlowe's life went out in that same tempestuous hour when the light
went out. But how came the light there? And where was the originator of
it?
One rather odd question Tom asked the authorities and got very little
satisfaction from them. "Do you notice any connection between that
article in the newspaper and the letter the dead man got from England?"
he asked.
"No manner uv connection; leastways none as I kin see," said the
sheriff. "The paper showed what he done; the map showed whar he went;
the license cards showed who he was. And thar ye are, sonny, whole thing
sure's gospel."
"It's funny about the light," said Tom, respectfully.
"I ain't botherin' my head 'baout no lights, son. I found Aaron Harlowe
'n that's enough, hain't it?"
It was in Tom's thoughts to say, "You didn't find him, I found him." But
out of respect for the formidable badge which the sheriff wore on one
strand of his suspenders, he refrained.
The next morning the newspapers told with conspicuous headlines, the
tragic sequel of Aaron Harlowe's escape. "_Found on lonely mountain_,"
they said. "_Fugitive motorist killed in storm_," one of the write-ups
was headed: "_Storm wreaks vengeance on autoist_," which was one of the
best headings of the lot. "_Sheriff's posse makes grewsome find_" was
another. And all told how Aaron Harlowe, fleeing guiltily from his
crime, had met his fate in the storm-tossed wilds of that frowning
mountain. They dwelt on the justice of Providence; they made the storm a
kind of avenging hero. It was pretty good stuff.
And that, as I said in the beginning, was where the public interest in
Aaron Harlowe ended. The rest of the strange business was connected with
Temple Camp and the scouts, and never got into the papers....
* * * * *
It was exactly like Tom Slade that something should interest him in this
tragic episode which did not interest the authorities. He left them,
quite unsatisfied in his own mind, and with some kind of a bee in his
bonnet....