About that time, a mile and a half to the southward, James Darragh came
out on the rocky and rushing outlet to Star Pond.
Over his shoulder was a rifle, and all around him ran dogs,--big,
powerful dogs, built like foxhounds but with the rough, wiry coats of
Airedales, even rougher of ear and features.
The dogs,--half a dozen or so in number,--seemed very tired. All ran
down eagerly to the water and drank and slobbered and panted, lolling
their tongues, and slaking their thirst again and again along the
swirling edge of a deep trout pool.
Darragh's rifle lay in the hollow of his left arm; his khaki waistcoat
was set with loops full of cartridges. From his left wrist hung a
raw-hide whip.
Now he laid aside his rifle and whip, took from the pocket of his
shooting coat three or four leather dog-leashes, went down among the
dogs and coupled them up.
They followed him back to the bank above. Here he sat down on a rock and
inspected his watch.
He had been seated there for ten minutes, possibly, with his tired dogs
lying around him, when just above him he saw a State Trooper emerge from
the woods on foot, carrying a rifle over one shoulder.
"Jack!" he called in a guarded voice.
Trooper Stormont turned, caught sight of Darragh, made a signal of
recognition, and came toward him.
Darragh said: "Your mate, Trooper Lannis, is down stream. I've two of my
own game wardens at the cross-roads, two more on the Ghost Lake Road,
and two foresters and an inspector out toward Owl Marsh."
Stormont nodded, looked down at the dogs.
"This isn't the State Forest," said Darragh, smiling. Then his face grew
grave: "How is Eve?" he asked.
"She's feeling better," replied Stormont. "I telephoned to Ghost Lake
Inn for the hotel physician.... I was afraid of pneumonia, Jim. Eve had
chills last night.... But Dr. Claybourn thinks she's all right.... So
I left her in care of your housekeeper."
"Mrs. Ray will look out for her.... You haven't told Eve who I am, have
you?"
"No."
"I'll tell her myself to-night. I don't know how she'll take it when she
learns I'm the heir to the mortal enemy of Mike Clinch."
"I don't know either," said Stormont.
There was a silence; the State Trooper looked down at the dogs:
"What are they, Jim?"
"Otter-hounds," said Darragh, "--a breed of my own.... But that's _all_
they are capable of hunting, I guess," he added grimly.
Stormont's gaze questioned him.
Darragh said: "After I telephoned you this morning that a guest of mine
at Harrod Place, and I, had been stuck up and robbed by Quintana's
outfit, what did you do, Jack?"
"I called up Bill Lannis first," said Stormont, "--then the doctor.
After he came, Mrs. Ray arrived with a maid. Then I went in and spoke to
Eve. Then I did what you suggested--I crossed the forest diagonally
toward The Scaur, zig-zagged north, turned by the rock hog-back south of
Drowned Valley, came southeast, circled west, and came out here as you
asked me to."
"Almost on the minute," nodded Darragh.... "You saw no signs of
Quintana's gang?"
"None."
"Well," said Darragh, "I left my two guests at Harrod Place to amuse
each other, got out three couple of my otter-hounds and started
them,--as I hoped and supposed,--on Quintana's trail."
"What happened?" inquired Stormont curiously.
"Well--I don't know. I think they were following some of Quintana's
gang--for a while, anyway. After that, God knows,--deer, hare,
cotton-tail,--_I_ don't know. They yelled their bally heads off--I on
the run--they're slow dogs, you know--and whatever they were after
either fooled them or there were too many trails.... I made a mistake,
that's all. These poor beasts don't know anything except an otter. I
just _hoped_ they might take Quintana's trail if I put them on it."
"Well," said Stormont, "it can't be helped now.... I told Bill Lannis
that we'd rendezvous at Clinch's Dump."
"All right," nodded Darragh. "Let's keep to the open; my dogs are
leashed couples."
They had been walking for twenty minutes, possibly, exchanging scarcely
a word, and they were now nearing the hilly basin where Star Pond lay,
when Darragh said abruptly:
"I'm going to tell you about things, Jack. You've taken my word so far
that it's all right----"
"Naturally," said Stormont simply.
The two men, who had been brother officers in the Great War, glanced at
each other, slightly smiling.
"Here it is then," said Darragh. "When I was on duty in Riga for the
Intelligence Department, I met two ladies in dire distress, whose
mansion had been burned and looted, supposedly by the Bolsheviki.
"They were actually hungry and penniless; the only clothing they
possessed they were wearing. These ladies were the Countess
Orloff-Strelwitz, and a young girl, Theodorica, Grand Duchess of
Esthonia.... I did what I could for them. After a while, in the course
of other duty, I found out that the Bolsheviki had had nothing to do
with the arson and robbery, but that the crime had been perpetrated by
Jose Quintana's gang of international crooks masquerading as
Bolsheviki."
Stormont nodded: "I also came across similar cases," he remarked.
"Well, this was a flagrant example. Quintana had burnt the chateau and
had made off with over two million dollars worth of the little Grand
Duchess's jewels--among them the famous Erosite gem known as The Flaming
Jewel."
"I've heard of it."
"There are only two others known.... Well, I did what I could with the
Esthonian police, who didn't believe me.
"But a short time ago the Countess Orloff sent me word that Quintana
really was the guilty one, and that he had started for America.
"I've been after him ever since.... But, Jack, until this morning
Quintana did not possess these stolen jewels. _Clinch did!_"
"What!"
"Clinch served over-seas in a Forestry Regiment. In Paris he robbed
Quintana of these jewels. That's why I've been hanging around Clinch."
Stormont's face was flushed and incredulous. Then it lost colour as he
thought of the jewels that Eve had concealed--the gems for which she had
risked her life.