MYSTERIES IN PART EXPLAINED
On the morning following the Jefferson game, Ridgley School, somewhat
stiff after the strenuous hours of struggle and victory, but feeling
utterly contented with the world and more than ever convinced that there
was no school quite like the one that stood on the hill among the
maples, awoke and prepared to settle itself leisurely to the enjoyment
of glorious memories. The first person who opened a newspaper intended
to undergo the pleasant experience of allowing the lines of printed
words to recall to mind the deathless moments of Ridgley accomplishment
and triumph. After his eyes had taken in the headlines that announced
the victory of the red, however, they were arrested by heavy type that
announced a tragedy. Two members of the school had been the victims of
an accident and one of them had lost his life. The reporters' story of
the occurrence read as follows:
"On Saturday afternoon while Ridgley was earning its triumph over
Jefferson and while the sounds of cheering echoed across the field,
death came to one member of the school and serious injury to another. No
one witnessed the tragedy. Mr. Osborne Murchie, while driving along the
State road from Greensboro to Springfield yesterday at about three
o'clock, came upon a seven-passenger car which had crashed through the
railing and had rolled down the embankment at the beginning of Hairpin
Turn and lay at the bottom of the gulch in a demolished condition, with
two young men pinned beneath the wreck. With the aid of a friend who
accompanied him, Mr. Murchie pried up the car and removed from beneath
it the dead body of a young man which was later identified as that of J.
M. Bassett, a student at Ridgley, whose home is in Denver, Colorado. The
other young man, Tracey Campbell, son of the prominent leather dealer,
who was unconscious and suffering from severe injuries, was conveyed to
the hospital at Greensboro, where it is said that he has a fair chance
of recovery.
"There are certain matters in regard to the tragedy that have not yet
been explained: first, why on this day when all members of the school
were attending the game at Ridgley Field were these two students driving
_away_ from the school? No one has been able to tell where the young men
were going or how the accident occurred. The assumption is that while
traveling at high speed they attempted to take the sharp turn too
swiftly. The machine, which was wrecked beyond repair, belonged to the
father of Tracey Campbell."
The news flew from room to room, from dormitory to dormitory, with the
rapidity of wireless. It was as if the story had suddenly been blazoned
across the clear November sky above the Ridgley campus; in one moment,
it seemed, the whole school knew that Whirlwind Bassett had come to his
end under tragic circumstances and that Tracey Campbell was lying in the
Greensboro hospital with an even chance of recovery. It was difficult at
first for many a member of Ridgley School to believe that the tragic
news was true,--so vivid is life, so unreal seems death. They could not
quite imagine Bassett--Whirlwind Bassett--lying dead out there at the
bottom of Hairpin Gulch.
Certain incidents which previously had seemed quite unworthy of
attention now assumed proportions of importance. A third-year student
named Gilmore who had sat in the Ridgley stands beside Bassett
recollected that the self-styled "Whirlwind" had risen from his seat at
the start of the game, had made his way out of the stands and had not
returned. Fred Harper and one or two others of the Ridgley football
substitutes remembered that Campbell, after coming off the field when
Teeny-bits had arrived, had slipped out through the opening under the
stands and had not returned. Most of the members of the squad remembered
that Campbell had not appeared at the locker building during the
rest-period between the halves and recollected that it had occurred to
them that he was "playing baby" because of the fact that he had lost his
chance to start the game. There seemed to be no sufficient explanation,
however, of the simultaneous exit of Bassett and Campbell. The last
person who had seen them, according to rumor, was one of the
ticket-takers at the field-gates who said that just after the game began
he caught a glimpse of Campbell driving his father's big car down the
street toward Hamilton with some one beside him in the front seat.
To certain members of Ridgley School the tragedy served as a last link
in a chain of circumstantial evidence that had gradually been involving
Campbell and Bassett. Among those persons were Neil Durant and Snubby
Turner.
On the previous evening Teeny-bits Holbrook had not been so absorbed in
the celebration that he had not found time to say to the captain and the
coach what he had in his mind. While the sounds of the revelers still
rose over the campus the three had gone into Neil Durant's room, and
there Teeny-bits had told of the false telephone message, of the
struggle in the road, of how his unknown assailants had carried him away
and kept him prisoner, of his fight to escape, of the strange action of
his Chinese captors when they discovered the mark of the knife, of his
escape and finally of his return to the Holbrook home and his long
sleep.
"It sounds like a pretty wild story, I know," he had said to his two
friends, "but it's true, every word of it, and I don't know why in the
world it all happened or whatever made those Chinamen let me go when
they saw my birthmark."
Coach Murray and Neil Durant had readily admitted that they thought it
was an extraordinary story but the idea did not enter their minds that
it was not true in every detail, for they knew that what Teeny-bits
Holbrook said could be relied upon to the minutest detail. For half an
hour they sat talking it over, suggesting possible motives and trying to
fathom the meaning of the mystery. Two things Teeny-bits did not
mention: the incident of finding Snubby Turner breaking into Campbell's
room and the accusatory letter that had led to the discovery of the
stolen loot. Those things, he felt, were matters not to be discussed
even with two such good friends as Mr. Murray and Neil Durant. There was
one person, however, with whom he wished to discuss that phase of the
strange circumstances in which he had become involved; he had already
made up his mind that very few hours should pass before he would have a
heart-to-heart talk with Snubby Turner. He was weary, however--bone and
muscle and brain weary--and as the sounds of the celebration diminished
he mounted the stairs to his room for a well-earned sleep.
In the morning Teeny-bits went to see Snubby Turner early,--before the
newspapers brought the first information of the tragedy. Snubby, still
in his pyjamas, let the new captain of the Ridgley eleven into his room
and blinked happily at his visitor.
"Oh, what a _day_, and oh, what a _night_!" he said. "It was the best
thing that ever happened and I'm glad I didn't miss it." Then genial
Snubby held out his hand to Teeny-bits and added: "Ridgley owes you a
lot and I'm _mighty glad_ that the fellows made you captain. Every one
says that you're the man for the job."
Teeny-bits was embarrassed by Snubby's words, for they made it all the
more difficult to say what was in his mind.
"Thanks, Snubby," he said, and paused,--"I came down here because I
wanted to ask you a question that has been bothering me for nearly a
week. You remember last Monday night when we had the mass meeting?"
A queer look came over Snubby's face. "Yes, I remember that night all
right."
"Well," said Teeny-bits, "you know the fellows got me up on the platform
and made me say something, and then, instead of sitting down, I went out
and started to come back to the dormitory. That was about nine o'clock
and no one was stirring on the campus because all the fellows had gone
to the mass meeting."
Teeny-bits was silent for a moment as if waiting for Snubby to say
something, but Snubby only continued to look at him with the same queer
expression of expectation that had come into his face at first mention
of the mass meeting.
"Well," continued Teeny-bits, "you know, something happened. I was
coming along pretty close to Gannett Hall when I saw some one sliding
down a fire-escape rope and getting into Campbell's window. Of course,
that made me think of the things that had been stolen from the fellows'
rooms and so I stepped into the bushes out there behind the dormitory
and waited until the fellow came out and I saw who it was."
"Yes," cried Snubby, whose face had suddenly become red, "and of course
you've been thinking all this time that I was the one who got away with
the money and things?"
"No!" said Teeny-bits. "There's where you're wrong; I haven't been
thinking any such thing. I _know_ that there's some other explanation
and I want you to give it to me, Snubby,--for more reasons than one.
I'll tell you something that I'm sure you don't know. That same night,
Doctor Wells called me over to his office and showed me a letter that
some one had written, saying that _I_ was the one who had stolen the
things."
"That _you_ were the one?" echoed Snubby with a look of amazement.
"Yes," declared Teeny-bits, "that I was the one, and of course I told
Doctor Wells that it wasn't true and he believed me, but it said in that
letter that the things were hidden under the floor of my closet and when
Doctor Wells and I went up to my room after the lights were out in the
dormitories, we found all that stuff, including Harper's sailing trophy,
Ned's gold knife, your watch and all the other trinkets that anybody has
missed ever since things began to disappear!"
"But that didn't make Doctor Wells believe that you had stolen the
stuff!" cried Snubby. "_He_ wouldn't think just because----"
"But something else happened, too," said Teeny-bits. "When I was
crouching in the bushes behind the dormitory and just after you had
crawled back into your room that night, Mr. Stevens came along and found
me there, and I couldn't make any explanation, you know, and so I don't
see how they could help thinking that I did it--because Doctor Wells
always talks things over with Mr. Stevens."
"Why didn't you tell them that you had seen me coming down that
fire-escape?" demanded Snubby.
"You know why I didn't do that," Teeny-bits replied, "and you know that
I knew you were all right, but for _heaven's sake_ tell me what it's all
about, because I want to get this mystery out of my mind and have it
over with."
"I can see the whole thing as clear as crystal now!" exclaimed Snubby,
"but I guess I was an awful fool to take such a chance in breaking into
Campbell's room. It was Campbell and Bassett that I was after. Old Jerry
put me wise to something he had overheard them say, and, like a chump, I
was trying to do a little private detective work because I wanted to get
back my watch and all those other things. Now _this_ is all I know about
it and I am terribly sorry that I went butting into things and was
responsible for bringing trouble to you----"
Snubby Turner was not destined to continue his explanation at that
moment, for before he had time to go on with what he had in mind the
sound of excited exclamations came from the corridor, and some one,
after knocking loudly on the door, turned the knob and thrust in his
head. Teeny-bits and Snubby saw that it was Fred Harper.
"Have you heard the news?" the newcomer cried. "Bassett's been killed
and Campbell's in the hospital pretty nearly done for, too! It's in the
newspapers. Look here!"
Behind Fred Harper were half a dozen other Ridgleyites, and Snubby
Turner's room quickly became crowded with members of the school whose
attention had been attracted by the exclamations. Meanwhile Snubby
Turner slipped out of the room and ran down to the basement to consult
Jerry, the janitor's assistant; he remained in the old fellow's box-like
room for several minutes.
The result of the conversation that went on between them was that old
Jerry pulled a celluloid collar out of a pasteboard box and announced
gruffly and with unmistakable determination that he was "goin' over to
see the Doctor." It was not often that old Jerry adorned his neck in any
manner, and now he felt that it was entirely unnecessary to put on a
tie. The shining collar itself fastened with a button which, if not gold
at least had the appearance of the precious metal, was evidence that he
was bound upon an important mission and when he arrived at Doctor Wells'
house and rang the door bell his fearsome features wore such a murderous
expression that the maid who came in answer to his summons was startled.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I wanter see the Doctor!" said Jerry and glowered so fiercely that the
girl started to close the door.
With surprising agility the old man thrust his foot into the crack and
when the girl said: "The Doctor is very busy; he's received some bad
news and he won't want to talk with you," old Jerry repeated: "I wanter
see the Doctor!" and added an imperative "_Now!_" which caused the girl
to come to the conclusion that here was a determined and desperate man.
She announced to Doctor Wells that "that terrible looking old janitor"
was outside and that he was "bound to come in."
Doctor Wells immediately came out to the door and ushered old Jerry into
his office where the grizzled janitor's assistant sat on the edge of one
of the big chairs and, holding his hat in his hand, announced to the
head of the school the following:
"I got my ijeers and they ain't no _common_ ijeers either, Doctor."
"I know you have, Jerry," said Doctor Wells, who from twenty years'
acquaintance with the old-timer was aware that no small matter had
induced him to invade what he had always considered as no less than
sacred territory.
"Yes," said Jerry, "ijeers are common until they get backed up by
_facts_, Doctor, and then they's uncommon. The boys was tellin' me the
news about Bassett and Campbell. I says I knew them birds wouldn't come
to no good end. I ain't one to talk agin one of them as has passed on,
Doctor, but them was bad birds. Here's how I come to know it. I got eyes
and ears sharper'n Tophet, even if I be nigh on to seventy and perhaps a
little more, and I heard things along back that sot me to suspicionin'
them two, and I kind o' says to myself it was my duty to the school to
detect around a mite and find out what was goin' on. They didn't like
Teeny-bits at all--not at all. They had it in for Teeny-bits (for some
reason old Jerry added an l to Findley Holbrook's nickname) from the
very start, and one night when I was standin' in a dark corner of the
corridor I heared Bassett sayin' he'd get even with him. And then after
the money and contraptions begun to disappear from the rooms I
overheared 'em talkin' again and what they says, Doctor, was this: 'I
got 'em in there all right. Now all you need to do is write the letter
on your father's typewriter. No one'll know.'"
"Who said that?" demanded Doctor Wells.
"Them two birds I'm tellin' yer about,--Bassett, the feller they called
the Whirlwind, and Campbell. Now I ain't no reg'lar detecative, Doctor,
but I got my _ijeers_, and that sot me to thinkin' hard and I knew
somethin' uncommon suspicious was goin' on. A friend o' mine who was
kinder detecatin' round as my assistant, you might say, slid down a
fire-escape rope about that time and climbed into Campbell's room, but
he didn't find nothin' and come away empty-handed."
"Who was that friend of yours?" asked Doctor Wells. "Was it Teeny-bits?"
"Now, Doctor," said old Jerry, "I ain't aimin' to keep anythin' back
twixt you'n me, but there's certain things, you understan', that I
can't--it wan't Teeny-bits----but further'n that----"
"All right, Jerry," said the Head. "I respect your point of view. Go on
with your story."
"Well," said Jerry, "this friend of mine come to me this mornin' and
says that Teeny-bits got accused of stealin' them things from the boys
and that somehow or other all those gold trinkets and contraptions got
found under his closet floor, and I wanter tell you, Doctor, that this
Teeny-bits _didn't do it_ and that them two bad birds, Campbell and
Bassett, was at the bottom of all this deviltry, and there ain't been
two sich underhanded, reckless, _good-for-nothin'_ fellers in this
school sence I took position here twenty year ago."
"Jerry," said the Doctor, "I value your judgment and I thank you for
coming to me in this frank way and giving me the benefit of your ideas."
The interview was over. Old Jerry left the office of the Head mumbling
to himself: "I got my ijeers and sometimes, by gorry, they's _uncommon_
ijeers."
While Jerry had been talking with the Head, Snubby Turner, who had
finished his explanation to Teeny-bits, had sought out Mr. Stevens and
had said to him:
"I have just been discovering some things that make it necessary for me
to tell you that last Monday night, while the football mass meeting was
going on, I slid down a fire-rope and crawled into Tracey Campbell's
room to see if I could discover if he was the one who had been stealing
things from the fellows' rooms and that while I was doing it Teeny-bits
came along and saw me, though I didn't know it at the time,--and that is
the reason why you found him out there behind the dormitory."
"Turner," said the English master, "you've told me something that I am
more than glad to hear. It clears up one element in a puzzling
situation. I'm beginning to see light."
On this Sunday, Ridgley School, expecting to settle down into a
comfortable enjoyment of the football triumph, found itself involved in
a sensation which was the source of rumors that flew from dormitory to
dormitory and from room to room with incredible rapidity. All day long
hints, suggestions, stories--the product of fact, hearsay and
fancy--were exchanged by every son of the school. At the morning service
in the chapel Doctor Wells referred to the tragedy in grave terms.
"Unexpectedly," he said, "while we have been rejoicing over our victory,
death has taken toll from among us; one of our number has passed
suddenly from this world into the world beyond. By this tragic
circumstance our thoughts are sobered and we find ourselves face to face
with a sad and bitter incident--the termination of a life while it was
still incomplete and unformed. I hope that the whole school will refrain
from useless comment and will form no harsh or unjust judgments. This is
a time for charity of thought."
Doctor Wells found many duties to perform in connection with the
tragedy. Not until evening was he able to do what he had had in his mind
to do from the moment when old Jerry called at his office. Another bit
of news that came from Mr. Stevens--information that concerned Snubby
Turner--had given him additional incentive to finish one phase of an
unpleasant matter quickly. After the evening meal that night he summoned
Mr. Stevens and Teeny-bits to his office, and there put certain
questions to the new captain of the Ridgley eleven that brought out the
whole story of the incidents that had occurred on the night before the
big game.
Sitting in front of the open fire, Doctor Wells put his fingers together
in the pose that was characteristic of him when he was deeply immersed
in thought. The clock on the mantel piece ticked loudly in the silence
of the room and Teeny-bits and Mr. Stevens sat pondering as profoundly
as the Head. After a time Doctor Wells spoke, slowly, as if he were
alone and were merely voicing the thoughts that flocked through his
mind:
"This is the strangest series of circumstances that has come to my
attention since I have been at Ridgley. It is hard to understand why two
young fellows should harbor such an animosity for any other member of
the school."
"Well," said Mr. Stevens, breaking in when the Head paused, "this
Bassett was a strange character; there seemed to be something lacking in
his nature; I shall have to admit that, although I made it a point to
study him, I quite failed to understand him. I don't think you knew that
on the day when Holbrook arrived at Ridgley, Bassett did certain things
which resulted in a struggle, and that Holbrook got the better of him in
a way that humiliated him before most of the roomers in Gannett Hall.
Almost any young fellow would recover from a thing like that and very
likely become good friends with his conqueror; in this case, however, it
seems to have started a germ of jealousy and desire for revenge which
grew out of all proportion to the incident. And then, of course,
Campbell was displaced on the team by Holbrook. From what I know of
those two young men I have come to the conclusion that Bassett, in his
crafty way, had a certain strength of character which allowed him to
dominate Campbell, whom I have always thought of as much the weaker
mentally of the two. A psychologist could probably have told us strange
things about Whirlwind Bassett."
"What is done can't, unfortunately, be undone," said the Head. "I regret
more than I can say that we were not able to nip all this trouble in the
bud--catch it at the beginning and prevent the tragic ending of it all."
Doctor Wells sat up a little straighter in his chair at that moment and
looked at Teeny-bits. "Holbrook," he said, "I want to tell you that I
appreciate the fine sense of loyalty to a friend that prevented you from
telling Mr. Stevens that you had seen Turner breaking into Campbell's
room. That would have explained something that puzzled us. But we
respect you for your silence."
"I knew that Snubby was honest," said Teeny-bits, "and, although I
couldn't imagine why he was doing it, I couldn't suspect him."
Doctor Wells' comment was short. "You did right. A suspicious nature is
one of the meanest things in the world." Again the Head was silent for a
time and then the expression of his face changed. "Now about this
Chinese business," he said; "I can understand the motive that was behind
spiriting you away, but when I come to the rather extraordinary means of
your escape, Holbrook, I will admit that my abilities as an amateur
Sherlock Holmes are too feeble. As I understand it from what you have
told us, these two Chinese in this Greensboro place seem to have been
strangely affected by the mark on your shoulder. Have you any
explanation of that?"
"I don't know whatever got into their heads," said Teeny-bits. "It's
beyond me. They jabbered away at a terrible rate in Chinese and acted as
if they were frightened."
"What is the nature of this mark?" asked Doctor Wells. "If you don't
mind telling me."
"Why, it's nothing," said Teeny-bits, "except a mark that looks like a
knife; a lot of the fellows have thought it was queer when they saw it
in the shower-bath room, but I never thought much about it because it's
always been there and didn't seem particularly strange to me."
"Mr. Stevens," said Doctor Wells, "I think you and Holbrook might go
over to Greensboro sometime this week and see what you can find. It
won't do any harm at least to try a little amateur detective work. I
wonder----"
Doctor Wells paused as if he thought it would be better not to say what
was in his mind. He had been about to mention something in regard to the
information that old Daniel Holbrook had given him on the opening day of
school,--the story of the accident at Hamilton station which had caused
the sudden death of the unknown woman who was supposed to be Teeny-bits'
mother. It had occurred to the Head that it might be just as well not to
talk over those matters in the presence of Teeny-bits.
When Mr. Stevens and Teeny-bits got up to go Doctor Wells shook hands
with them gravely.
"Holbrook," he said, "I haven't told you something that was in my mind
last night when I heard the news that came from the football banquet. I
was greatly pleased to learn that the Ridgley eleven had chosen you as
captain. I know that you will make a leader of whom we can be as proud
as we have been of Neil Durant."
Later Doctor Wells found occasion to tell Mr. Stevens the thing that he
had omitted: the history of Teeny-bits' unexplained origin. With this
information stimulating his mind to solve the mystery, the English
master suggested to Teeny-bits that they lose no time in visiting
Greensboro.