CARL INVESTIGATES.
Carl hated a "waiting" game. If there was anything going on, he liked
to be right in the midst of it. On top of all this, he was vaguely
suspicious of everything connected with that telegram.
When Matt went up and knocked on the door of the house, Carl was hoping
the summons would not be answered; but when the door opened, and Matt
disappeared inside the house, Carl's real worries began.
Pacing back and forth on the walk, the Dutch boy impatiently counted
the seconds and checked off the minutes. No sound came from the
building, and, after the light had vanished from the hall, not a ray
was to be seen at any of the windows.
"I t'ink, py shiminy," muttered Carl to himself, "dot der fifdeen
minids vas oop. Vell, I count off fife more schust for goot measure.
After dot, oof Matt don'd come, I vill make some infestigations."
Owing to the lateness of the hour, and the obscure section of the town
through which that part of Hoyne Street ran, no one passed the front of
the house. Carl's solitary vigil was not relieved by the sight of any
chance traveler.
Mentally he checked off another five minutes. During the counting
he fancied he heard a noise in the house, but it was so muffled and
indistinct he could not be sure. Matt did not show himself, and Carl
started his investigations.
His first move was to run up the steps and pound on the door. Although
he made enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood, he couldn't
bring anybody to the entrance. He tried the knob, but found the door
fastened. Then he hurled his weight against the door in the hope of
breaking it in. The door must have been in better repair than the rest
of the house, for it withstood his attack with scarcely a shiver.
Carl's temper was always pretty close to the surface, and his failure
to get into the house caused him to forget his forebodings on Matt's
account and to get good and mad on his own.
"I vill find Matt oof I haf to preak down a vinder!" fumed Carl,
jumping down from the steps and starting to run around the side of the
house.
"Hello, there!" shouted a voice most unexpectedly from the sidewalk.
"What're you up to, hey?"
Carl halted and looked around. In the glow of the furnace fires he saw
a man standing in front of the house.
"Vat iss it your pitzness?" he snapped. "I'm going to ged indo dot
blace oof I haf to preak holes in it!"
"I'll make it my business, quick enough!" called the other. "Come here,
and be quick about it."
There was authority in the voice, and the command was accompanied by a
backward sweep of the hand under a long coat. When the hand reappeared,
there was a glimmering object clutched in the fingers. The light also
glimmered on two rows of buttons on the speaker's coat.
"Ach, du lieber!" muttered Carl. "You vas an officer, hey?"
"Come here, quick!" ordered the man. "Tell me where that balloon came
from. It seemed to rise from around in this vicinity somewhere."
By that time, Carl had reached the walk. The officer pointed upward,
and Carl's eyes, following the finger, saw an air-ship clearly outlined
against the glow of the blazing chimneys. The cigar-shaped gas-bag and
the pendent car stood out plainly. The front end of the air-ship was
pointed upward, and it was vanishing swiftly into the night.
"Himmelblitzen!" gasped Carl. "Dot vas der Hawk! It must be der Hawk!"
"Hawk, eh?" returned the officer. "What do you know about it? The thing
seemed to rise up in the air from around here."
"Iss dot so?" cried Carl, excitedly. "Vell, I ditn't see him, und dot's
righdt. I vas drying so hardt as anyt'ing to ged indo der house."
"I heard you tryin' to break in the door. Don't you know it's against
the law to do that?"
"I don'd care for der law! My bard vent indo dot house und left me to
vait. Ven I vait plendy long enough for him und he don'd come, den I
make some infestigations. No vone answers my knock on der door, und for
vy iss dot?"
"You say a friend of yours is in the house?"
"Sure! Don'd I vas delling you?"
"When did he go in?"
"Haluf oof an hour ago--all oof dot."
The officer began questioning Carl and got from him pretty near the
whole of the affair--Matt's name and occupation, the experience with
the air-ship in the early part of the afternoon, nearly everything
concerning the roll of papers, the receipt of the telegram, and the
night visit of the boys to South Chicago.
This policeman was an intelligent member of the force, and he at
once concluded that here was a matter which called for official
investigation.
"We'll get into the house and find out about your friend," said he.
"Your yarn is a queer one, but has the true ring, and it's evident
there's shady work of some kind going on."
"Shaty vork? Vell, you bed you! Vere iss Matt? Dot's vat I vand to know
vorse as anyt'ing else. I ditn't vant him to go in dere, anyvay, aber
ven he makes oop his mindt to do somet'ing, den it vas as goot as done
und vat I say don'd cut some ice."
"If he's in there we'll get him," said the officer, decidedly.
As a preliminary to more drastic operations, he went up to the door
and pounded on it with his night-stick. The summons, although several
times repeated, was not answered. Thereupon the policeman and Carl,
throwing their united weight upon the door, burst the bolt from its
fastenings and tumbled into the hall.
The darkness of the interior was relieved only by the glare of the
furnaces coming in at the transom. Silence reigned everywhere.
"I don'd like der looks oof t'ings," muttered Carl, forebodingly. "Dere
don'd vas anypody ad home now, aber ven Matt come in dere vas plendy
oof people here. Vat toes it mean, officer?"
"We'll try and find out what it means."
There was an electric dark lantern at the policeman's belt. Taking the
lantern in his hand he switched on the light and sent a bright gleam
into every nook and corner of the hall.
No sign of Matt, nor of any of the occupants of the house, was
revealed. There were only two or three rooms furnished on the lower
floor, and none at all on the floor above. Every part of the house was
searched, and the last place of all to pass under the policeman's and
Carl's scrutiny was the shallow basement.
It was evident to both searchers that people had been in the house up
to a very recent moment, for in one of the first-floor rooms there
remained an odor of tobacco smoke, but there was no living person
anywhere in evidence.
"Don'd dot peat ter tickens?" murmured Carl. "Matt come in der front
door, und he ditn't come oudt oof it. Oof he vas daken away it must haf
peen py der pack oof der house. Meppy ve pedder haf a look ad der pack
yardt?"
"Wait a minute," answered the officer.
Bending down he picked some object off the floor and examined it under
the rays of the lantern. An exclamation of surprise and wonder fell
from his lips.
"Vat it iss?" queried Carl.
"Here's the biggest kind of a find!" was the response. "Thunder! this
must be my lucky night."
"How you figger dot?"
"This is a canvas bag."
"Yah, I see dot, aber it ditn't pelong by Matt und it don'd dell us
nodding aboudt vere he vas."
"It's marked 'Hartz & Greer, Jewelers,'" went on the policeman, his
voice shaking with excitement. "That's a firm doing business right here
in South Chicago, and their store was burglarized mysteriously a little
more than a week ago. Some fifteen thousand dollars' worth of jewelry
and diamonds were taken, and this," the officer shook the canvas bag,
"_this_ is the first clue any one has found to the robbers!"
"Shiminy Grismus!" muttered Carl. "Dis must haf peen der blace vere der
t'ieves hat deir hang-oudt. Aber dot don'd got some interest for me.
Vat I vant to know iss, vere iss Modor Matt? Dis pitzness iss gedding
on my nerfs aboudt like dot odder time ven he tissabeared schust pefore
der cup race. Shtick der pag in your bocket, officer, und led's haf
some looks at der pack yardt."
The policeman, now wrapped heart and soul in the hunt, put the bag away
in the breast of his coat.
The door leading into the back yard, as they had already discovered,
was unlocked. The rear premises were enclosed by a high board fence,
and the beacons that capped the neighboring chimneys lighted the
enclosure sufficiently so that the lantern was not needed.
There was a very perceptible odor of gasolene in the back yard. The
moment Carl sniffed it, he gave vent to a stifled yell and grabbed the
policeman's arm with both hands.
"What's to pay now?" demanded the policeman.
"Der air-ship!" gasped Carl.
The officer threw a startled look at the sky.
"No, no, it ain'd oop dere," went on Carl. "It vas in dis pack
yardt--yah, so helup me! Der gasolene used in der modor make der
shmell. Don'd you ondershtand? Dey filled der tank here, und shpilled
some oof der gasolene! Dose fellers haf run off from dis blace mit
Matt, und dey have dook him along. Ach, himmelblitzen, vat a luck!"