STEPHEN GIVES A CLUE
"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."--Matt. v, 7
Away sped the police car, over the country roads and lanes throughout
the district towards which the kidnapper's car was believed to have
disappeared. The sun shone brightly after the storm of the night
before and the heavy fragrance of flowers was in the air. On all
sides of the valley were tumbled hills and beyond the hills rose the
rugged tops of mountain ranges, bristling with interminable forest.
Up and down and round about these hills they made their search,
keeping always to the east. Passers-by were stopped and questioned.
Deserted log cabins and prosperous farm houses were visited. Again
and again some member of the party got out of the car and proceeded
afoot into some thicket or along a little-used path to ask questions
of people living off from the main roads.
Everywhere the answer was the same. No one had seen a strange car of
any description passing, or stopping, at an unusual hour or in any
manner to attract attention. The search was discouraging, even to
the optimistic Chief.
Just as they were on the verge of turning back and beginning their
search all over again, a little more to the south, they came upon a
farmer sitting in his wagon, waiting by the side of the road to let
their car go by. He was tall and gaunt, and he wore a broad slouch
hat, pushed sufficiently back from his face for his features to be
distinguishable. He smiled genially and called, "Howdy, Chief," as
the police car whizzed by.
"Want to stop, Chief," asked the driver, instantly changing gear.
"Yes," answered the Chief. "Turn around. I know that fellow. He's
got something under his hat that he wants to gossip about or he
wouldn't have been so cordial. Don't scare his mare, now. She's
skittish. That's why he pulled off the road. It's all right. He
sees we're coming back. He'll wait."
"How are you, Mr. Tyler," called the Chief as he came again within
speaking distance of the farmer. "I wonder if you can give us a
little help in a search we're making for a kidnapped child."
"Well, now, mebbe I kin," drawled the farmer. "War hit a leetle,
sawed-off feller with big, starey blue eyes an' yaller haar?"
Harris Wayne groaned. His heart had throbbed with hope at the man's
first words. Now he leaned back in his seat and pressed his hand
over his eyes as if he would shut out, if possible the sight of
everything in the world but the one face which was ever before him.
His baby! Little Doris! What were they doing to her? Where was
she? Whose hands were caring for her! Was she crying, sobbing her
little heart out, calling constantly for him, or had they drugged her
into insensibility? A thousand such thoughts were continually
floating before his mind. He gave no heed to the conversation which
now ensued between the Chief and the garrulous farmer. A little chap
with blue eyes and fair hair meant nothing to him. For him there was
now but one child in the whole world, and that one, Doris.
The Chief, however, manifested considerable interest in the farmer's
unexpected question. He had had no report of any other lost child.
If there was one, he wanted to know about it. He explained that
their quest was not for a boy, but for Mr. Wayne's little girl. Of
her, the farmer knew nothing but he had a strange story to tell of
another farmer, living over by the old turnpike, from whose place he
had just come.
"Yo' mind thet creepy kind of a critter what tuk over ole Honeycut's
place an' datter, Chief, thet feller by name o' Pete Grimes, thet
folks allus thought hed a screw er sumpin' loose in his haid?"
The Chief nodded.
"Well, hit seems he raises hawgs up thar now, stid o' whiskey, an'
Rich Craddock driv up ter his place a day er so back ter buy him a
shoat. Yo' know Rich got religin and j'ined th' chu'ch a spell back
an' he's plumb pious but he shore thought he'd met up with th' ole
boy himself when he found this hyar Grimes hed locked the gate behind
him and 'lowed ter let him walk pin't-blank inter one o' them sink
holes thet section's full of. Rich 'lowed th' feller had gone crazy.
Then, whilst they was a-talkin', right spang out o' th' tree over
their haids come the skeertest, sickest lookin' leetle feller yo'
ever sot eyes on a-tumblin' down alongside them. Rich tol' me he
thought fer a minnit thet feller Grimes was a-goin' ter toss thet
leetle runt plumb inter th' bog. He seed from the boy's eyes thet he
expected sumpin' like thet, too, fer he kind o' aidged erlong to'rd
Rich, like es ef he wanted him ter do sumpin'. Rich sed he done some
mighty quick thinkin'. An' he wanted ter git out er thet place
mighty quick, too. So he jist axed who th' leetle feller war an'
when Grimes sed he didn't aim ter keep him an' th' boy commenced ter
kind o' shiver, Rich jist peeled out a dollar bill an' sed he'd tote
th' young-un home ter pick tater bugs. Now thet jist shows yo' what
religion'll do fer a man, becus Rich Craddock hain't got dollar bills
ter hire help with, an' him jist losin' a full bar'l o' m'lasses in
thet devilish sink hole.
"Anyhow, he gits himself an' th' leetle feller out o' th' dum place
an' starts fer home, lickety-split, with the shoat he bought in th'
back o' th' wagon an' th' boy a-settin' up on th' bar'l whar Grimes
hed pitched him. Rich hed 'lowed ter hev th' boy set up on th' seat
along o' him, but he didn't feel ter delay none in thet
hell-for-sartain place, so es soon es he war shut of hit, he pulled
up an' sed:
"Come an' set up hyar with me, sonny," but thar wa'n't no answer.
An' when he looked back, ef thar wa'n't th' boy a-layin' stone-daid
in th' bottom o' th' wagon. Co'se he wasn't stone-daid, he jist
looked thet-a-way.
"Well, Rich, he driv fer home es ef th' devil war arter him. Him an'
his ole woman worked over thet leetle feller the hull night. He war
plumb light-haided an' kep' a-talkin' 'bout somebody a-breakin' some
baby's arm, an' a-throwin' babies inter a bog an'--"
"Oh, my God!"
The interruption came from Wayne. He had roused from his troubled
thoughts sufficiently to grasp the latter part of the farmer's
narrative and the possibilities it suggested filled his soul with
horror and apprehension.
"Where is that boy now? Still at Craddock's? Have you seen him?"
The Chief shot the questions so rapidly, the farmer was unable to
answer them as they came. He was distressed, too, at having his
thrilling tale interrupted, though the interest it aroused in his
auditors was extremely gratifying.
"Why, ye-e-s, an' ag'in no," he drawled. "Craddock's old woman--"
"You mean Mrs. Craddock?" interrupted their Chief.
"Shore," returned the farmer. "Melindy, she sets a heap on her
nussin' an' she says th' boy's nigh crazed es 'tis, an' she won't
'low no one ter ax him much. Es soon es he gits ter talkin' he goes
right off his haid an' inter fever ag'in. But he hed a leetle passel
o' papers tied 'roun' his waist thet Craddock aimed ter fotch down
ter yo' fellers but he hain't hed a minnit ter spare yit ter do
nawthin'. He'll be right glad ter show 'em ter yo'-all ef yo' want
ter drive out thet-a-way. Yo' know how ter git thar, don't yo'? Yo'
go along this hyar road ter th' bend an' then cut through Miller's
place an' that'll fotch yo 'out on th' old pike. Frum thar on hit's
not mor'n a whoop an' a holler, an' all clar 'goin'."
The Chief thanked his informant, sprang into the car and they started
off according to the directions given.
"Why not go right out to that hog farm, Chief, if you know where it
is," suggested one of the detectives in the car.
"Not yet," answered the Chief. "We haven't any evidence against the
man. I know who he is. I've seen him around town for years.
Devilish ugly looking type but I always understood he was harmless.
This may all be the result of delirium--fever, you know. The boy may
just be rambling, or he may be crazy, himself. We've got to see him
before we can take any action. And then, if Mr. Wayne's little girl
has been taken to any such place--which I doubt--we'll have to
proceed with every caution or some harm will come to the child."
Again Wayne groaned aloud. Every moment they delayed, riding about
the country, seemed to increase Doris' danger. He urged the Chief to
hurry.
The Chief reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter demanding
ransom which Wayne had received that morning. After studying it a
minute he said:
"This was written by a man of fair education, not by such a type as
Grimes. The fact that he was stopping at the Mansion House,
according to the handwriting we found on the register, seems to
indicate that he is a stranger to these parts and would therefore not
know anything about Grimes. I understand he is a pretty disagreeable
person and shuns acquaintances. But we can't afford to overlook any
chance, however remote. That's why I'm going up to the Craddock
place. If what the boy says warrants it, we'll institute some
inquiries around the hotel as to whether or not Grimes was seen about
the place by anyone during the past week. If he was, and we can link
him up with this man Bailey, as he calls himself, then we'll have
something to work on. Meanwhile," he turned to Wayne, "you've got
until to-morrow noon to meet the terms of the ransom."
"Well don't you think, Chief," Wayne urged, "that it would be wise
for me to get word to them that I am willing to meet their demands,
so as to ensure the baby's safety?"
"I wouldn't advise it--at least not yet," the Chief replied.
"There'll be time enough this evening if you want to do it."
Waiting was torture for Wayne, but he strove to control his nerves
and to look at the situation from the detective's viewpoint.
The story they had heard from their loquacious informant was
corroborated by Richard Craddock when they reached his farm. The
boy, he said, was very, very ill and might, or might not rally enough
at their entrance to answer questions. His wife, a kind-hearted,
motherly person, who went out nursing whenever her services were
required, was caring for the child as well as the average rural
practitioner could do, and she, too, thought it unlikely that the boy
could be roused sufficiently to give them any intelligent information.
But the slight stir of their entrance made him open his eyes and look
at them at first with terror, then with something akin to pleasure.
"I knowed--knew--hit was a mistake," he murmured, looking straight
into the eyes of Wayne. "I thought--mebbe--she'd send--you." Then
he sighed as if with satisfaction and closed his eyes, apparently to
sleep. But after a moment it was noticed that two great tear-drops
were slowly making their way from under the transparent lids and
coursing down the sick boy's cheeks. Mrs. Craddock stepped forward
and gently wiped them away. "Mollie--" murmured the boy. "Mollie
and--the--children--the babies--." Mrs. Craddock laid her fingers
upon his pulse.
"Hit's a sin an' a shame ter bother him with questions," she said.
"Cain't ye wait til termorrer? He'll be better then."
"I'll tell you what," said the Chief, in a low tone to Mrs. Craddock.
"I'll have someone from my office stay right here the rest of the day
and through the night, and you must do your best to get him in
condition to answer a few questions before daybreak. This gentleman,
here, Mr. Wayne,----"
"Oh, howdy, Mr. Wayne," interrupted the farmer's wife, in some
confusion that so distinguished a person should be in her humble
home, "I thought I'd seed yore face afore. Won't yo' set?"
She pushed a chair forward but Wayne shook his head. The Chief
continued.
"Mr. Wayne's little girl has disappeared--been stolen. They have
given him until noon to-morrow to decide whether or not he will pay
them a large sum of money in exchange for the child. If he pays the
money they may not keep their word. I am trying to find the child
for him before their time limit expires. What I want to learn from
this boy is whether or not there are children on the Grimes farm and
how he came to be there. I know Grimes has one child of his own. I
never heard of any other child being on the premises."
Wayne and the detectives withdrew. As they passed through the
kitchen door out onto the porch the farmer came forward with some
papers.
"These were tied onto him," he said, "but bein' es I don't read I
cain't make nawthin' out o' them."
The letter was unfolded. It was old, torn and begrimed from
handling, for Stephen had looked at it often. When it was handed to
Wayne, he stared in blank amazement. The signature was that of
Wayne's sister who had died following an operation shortly after the
letter was written.
"She had planned to adopt him," Wayne explained to the astonished
detectives. "He was an orphan. My sister had made all arrangements
for his education. Quite a search was made for him but when my
sister died it was abandoned. We all thought he ran away to avoid
going to school."
"And the picture,--do you know the likeness?" asked the Chief.
"My sister," answered Wayne. "Poor little Stephen! God alone knows
what happened to him. He must have recognized me. That's why he
spoke as he did. For God's sake, Chief, clear up this tangle. It
gets worse every minute. What about those children thrown in bogs,
with broken arms and legs? That talk isn't delerium. If this boy is
Stephen, and he's kept these means of identification all these years,
the boy's got sense. He's trying to tell something. And by heavens,
if they've got my baby in any such hellish hole with a crazy fiend in
charge of her, I'll--I'll--Oh, my God, my God, this is killing me!"
Then, suddenly drawing himself erect he started for the road. "I'll
go out there alone, Chief, and I'll search that place myself," he
thundered.
Both the Chief and the farmer spoke in protest.
"Yo' cain't git in," said the latter. "There's bogs all about th'
place, 'cept, jist in front o' th' gate an' hit is ten foot high,
with wire an' glass a-top an' a big bell ter ring. Ef he doan want
ter see yo' he'll never open th' gate an' he mought fling th' leetle
gal inter th' mire."
"That's right," added the Chief. "You don't want to do anything
rash. I'll leave a man here, as I said--Joe, you better stay," he
added, turning to one of the detectives with them. "And the instant
that boy can talk coherently you get word to me. There's a telephone
down at the Murphy place. That's not far from here. Come on, Mr.
Wayne. We'll go down and see what Burke has unearthed at the hotel.
I'll have him make some inquiries there, as I said I would, about
this man Grimes."