Kitabı oku: «The Banner Boy Scouts Mystery», sayfa 6

CHAPTER XIII

Discovery

Ken was saying, “It is rather strange that somebody should have been in that house when it is supposed to be empty and deserted.”

“But why?” demanded Paul. “Being empty and unoccupied, anybody might walk in and look around.”

“Very true,” commented Jack, “but why should he sock me, that’s something I can’t understand.” He put his hand behind his head and winced with pain. “Suppose,” he continued, “some person does stray into the house and while he is there I enter. Does that mean that he has to bang me on the head and run away? It is not logical. There must be something to it.”

“You may be right,” conceded Paul, “but somehow it doesn’t strike me so. By the way, did I tell you fellows how I ran into Captain Bob last night and almost scared him to death?”

“No,” cried Ken. “Tell us.”

Paul narrated his last night’s adventure. The boys laughed heartily at the thought of Captain Bob being scared out of his wits. He also told them that the captain had also had the same hunch as he. Then he asked, “What do you fellows think of it?”

Jack merely shrugged his shoulders, manifesting his lack of opinion. Ken, however, said, “It sounds quite logical to me.”

“Logic does not always prove anything,” remarked Paul.

Jack jumped out of his seat and snapped his fingers. “I have an idea,” he cried.

“Tell us,” said Ken.

“What is it?” asked Paul.

“It is something I couldn’t exactly explain; it’s just something I feel—a hunch. Come on, we’re going back to that empty house.”

“But what for?” demanded Paul. “We have been there several times and we have found no clues or anything.”

“Well, we’re going back and look again.”

Jack disappeared into the house and a minute later came out carrying his flashlight and as baseball bat. “What is the bat for?” asked Ken.

“Just in case of anything,” was the answer. “I’m not taking chances any more.”

The boys rocked with laughter, Jack joining in. “You think you’re going to hit somebody with that thing?” questioned Ken, still laughing.

“I suppose the fellow who hit you is waiting there for you to even things up,” commented Paul.

“You fellows can laugh all you want,” said Jack, “but I’m taking it along just the same. Come on.”

They were on their way. Jack said, “Paul, you and I are going into the house, while you, Ken, are going to hide outside and give us the usual signal in case you see somebody suspicious coming up the street or about to enter the house.”

“And what are we going to do?” asked Paul.

“You and I are going into that first room and investigate. If there is anything to be found, somehow I feel convinced that it will be found in that room. I have only one reason for it. When I was hit on the head I had my back to that door. Therefore the person who hit me came out of that room.”

“That sounds reasonable,” remarked Paul. “But I, on the contrary, have no illusions about finding any clues there. It seems to me that we went over every inch of ground in that room.”

“You are wrong, Paul,” contradicted Jack. “All we did was merely look around. We did not make a real search of the room.”

The boys came to the house. All three of them made sure of a good location for Ken to hide and keep watch. When that was done, Paul and Jack entered the house and closed the door behind them. “Now,” whispered Jack, “Let’s open the door of this first room and examine it.” Jack did so and swung the door back and forth on its hinges. “Notice something?” he asked his chum.

“I most certainly do, Jack. This is very suspicious.”

“What is it you notice?” asked Jack.

“Why, the movement of the door swinging on its hinges; it’s noiseless. Isn’t that what you mean?”

“Yes. The hinges must be well oiled and that is why I did not hear when the door was opened and I was hit on the head. Under normal circumstances, the hinges should be rusty and there should be plenty of squeaking every time the door is swung open.”

“You are right, Jack. But I still don’t see what your hunch is.”

“Let’s just wait and see. I don’t know exactly what it is myself yet. I can only make a wild guess. Let’s go into the room.”

They entered and closed the door behind them. They had no use for their flashlights because the room had a window in each corner wall, and it was now early morning, about ten o’clock. “Notice another thing,” remarked Jack. “The windows—they are all in perfect shape.”

“That’s right, but that is nothing extraordinary. It is possible that the last tenant had moved out only recently.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter so much. Shall we first thoroughly go over the walls or the floor?”

Paul looked about for several seconds before he answered. “I think we had better do the floor first.” They looked down. “You know,” continued Paul, “I am somehow beginning to get a hunch like you have. I can’t exactly explain it, but—”

Jack interrupted, crying enthusiastically, “Do you really mean that? Because then—”

Paul held up a finger to his lips and cautioned, “Sh! Not so loud. Walls have ears, you know, and all that.” Both of them crouched down. “Do you notice something odd about the dust on the floor?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Jack. “I noticed it the first time we were here but I forgot to mention it. There seems to be very little dust on this floor compared to the other rooms.”

“That is right. Now you begin at the other end of the room and I will begin at this end of the room. Examine every single plank of wood and see if it lifts out of the floor.”

“That was my intention exactly,” whispered Jack. “You are getting on to my hunch perfectly.”

Paul by now had become excited with the new turn of events and he was eager to be doing something. “Less talk and more work,” he snapped at his friend briskly.

Jack smiled and moved away to his end of the floor. The boys partitioned the floor in half and set to work with zest. They ran their hands over the floor and tested each plank. Despite their eagerness and rapid movements, it took them a long time. The two of them must have been working close to an hour, and Paul was occupied now in front of the window when he hissed across the room, “Jack, I have it!”

Paul flushed with excitement. Jack raced across the room and joined his friend. Paul had discovered a removable piece of wood about six inches long by about three inches wide. He held it up in his hand. “Now!” he whispered. He plunged his hand into the opening and pulled. But too much effort was not necessary, the trap door opened easily. Jack was ready to rush right down, but Paul, ever prudent and careful, grabbed him by the arm and restrained him. “Wait a moment,” he whispered. “Let’s make sure of things.”

Paul went to the window and peeked out. He located Ken and saw the boy on guard, his eyes roaming everywhere and on the alert. Jack had in the meanwhile gone out into the hall. Paul now joined him and together they looked through the house to make sure whether anyone was in there or was watching them. Reassured at last, they returned to the room and again pulled up the trap door. There were stairs leading down, but it was dark below and Jack flashed on his light. From every appearance it looked like an ordinary cellar. Paul whispered, “All right, let’s go down. I’ll go first.”

Jack nodded and his chum began to descend the stairs. He followed, gripping his bat in his hand. Becoming conscious of the weapon, he smiled to himself remembering how his friends joked at his taking it along. Now, in case of anything, it would be very useful.

Paul, who carried the flashlight, reached the bottom of the stairs and waited for his chum. Jack joined him. Together they followed the beam of light around the room. At one side was a printing press and quite a bit of printing paraphernalia; in the center of the room was a table and several chairs; against the walls were several boxes, a jacket and a cap hung on a nail and from the ceiling there extended an electric bulb. Jack whispered, “What do you make of it all?”

Paul shrugged his shoulders. Again he threw a beam of light all around the room. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned and motioned to his friend that they leave. Jack shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “let’s see exactly what they have here.”

“Not now,” was the whispered reply. “Some other time.”

He began to mount the stairs and Jack followed. They closed the trap after them and replaced the piece of wood. Paul went over to the window and peeked out. And it was a lucky thing that he did. Locating Ken on the spot they had left him, he noticed the guard put his fingers to his lips and whistle. But they could not hear the whistle because both the door to the house and the door to the room were closed. Grabbing Jack by the arm, he cried, “Hurry!” and dragged him out of the room. In the hall they just managed to duck under the stairs as the door opened and by the sound of the footsteps the boys guessed that two men had entered. They heard a gruff voice mutter, “All right, we’ll do it.”

The next instant they heard the second door open and close. Venturing out from their hiding place, they listened carefully to the opening of the trap door, one man descending, then the second man descending and then, plop, the trap door closing again. The boys looked at each other. Paul smiled while Jack wiped the perspiration off his forehead with a muffled sigh of relief. Paul opened the door noiselessly and they stepped out into the open. At a sign from Paul, Ken was in an instant over the fence and away. A moment later Jack and Paul were out of the yard and running down the street.

They joined Ken at the end of the street. The two boys did not dare to speak until they were some distance away from the empty house. Finally, Jack, who couldn’t restrain himself any more, heaved a very audible sigh of relief and exclaimed, “Boy! Was that a close shave! I’m so nervous, my hands are shaking.”

“What happened?” asked Ken who could see that something important had transpired.

“Let’s not talk now,” said Paul. “Wait until we get someplace where we can’t be overheard.” He looked from one of his friends to the other. “Don’t look so curious and excited,” he added. “Let’s discuss some ordinary topic. Did you fix your dad’s car, Jack?”

Jack looked at his chum and burst out laughing. Paul looked as calm and unconcerned as though nothing had happened. “I’m glad to see you fellows enjoying your fun,” remarked Ken. “But I wish you would tell me the joke so I could also enjoy it and laugh.”

That set both Jack and Paul laughing. “Pardon us, Ken,” said Paul. “But there really is nothing to laugh about. That’s the joke. But we will tell you all about it right away.”

CHAPTER XIV

A New Turn of Events

Jack stopped dead in his tracks. His two friends also stopped and faced him. “What is it?” asked Paul.

“I was just wondering,” answered Jack, “whether we shouldn’t go back there, watch until those two leave and then go down there again.”

“Go down where?” asked Ken; they had not yet told him of the cellar they had discovered.

Paul shook his head. “No,” he said. “We have had enough for one day. And then, I want some time to think this thing over and try to piece everything together. Let’s go to Ken’s garage where we can have some privacy.”

“You really think we shouldn’t go back?” asked Jack.

“Yes, I’m convinced.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Ken as the three of them continued walking. “I’m only an ornament among the three of us.”

“Don’t be so impatient,” said Paul. “Wait. We’ll tell you everything.”

They came to Ken’s garage and sat down on boxes. Paul related what had happened. Several times Ken gasped in astonishment. When the story was finally ended, Paul commented, “But what puzzles me is how all the incidents fit together. The fires, Mr. Grey, Jack getting bumped on the head, Captain Bob, where do all these facts fit in?”

“As far as Captain Bob is concerned, you can leave him out of it,” commented Jack. “No matter what it is all about, I’m quite sure he is an innocent party.”

“Yes,” said Ken. “As chief of the fire department he naturally would be interested in why there are an unusually large number of fires.”

“All right, suppose we agree that Captain Bob is out of it,” said Paul, “what about all the other facts. How does Mr. Grey fit in, for example?”

“Yes, how does he fit in?” asked Ken. “Isn’t it possible that what you stumbled on today has nothing to do with all the other incidents?”

“It may sound all right,” remarked Jack, “but I don’t think so. For example, by now I am convinced that the fellow who hit me came out of that cellar.”

“But why should he run away?” questioned Paul. “Why couldn’t he have made you a prisoner, as that would be a more natural thing to do?”

“Perhaps,” argued Jack. “But if he had, he would have had to take me down in the cellar. Now suppose he blindfolds me, still I might hear something they say. I might escape and inform the police. My opinion is that he hit me and ran away, hoping that the blow on the head would scare me so that I would never return.”

His two companions nodded. “Suppose we accept that as the real reason. Where does everything else fit in? What are they doing with a printing press down there? They shouldn’t have to hide that.”

“But the mere fact that they are hiding it is proof that they are doing something illegal,” commented Ken.

His two companions repeated the word, “Illegal! Illegal!”

Jack began to walk up and down, his chin in his hand and deep in thought. The other two were also silent and thinking hard. Jack picked up an old newspaper from the floor. Suddenly he dropped the paper, jumped high into the air and cried frantically, “I have it! I have it!”

His two friends leaped out of their seats, and ran up to him. “Well!” demanded Paul, for once impatient and curious. “What is the answer?”

“The answer is,” whispered Jack and then paused, “Counterfeiters!” he whispered.

Ken jumped into the air enthusiastically. “That’s right!” he cried. “That’s right!”

Paul smiled with satisfaction. Putting an arm around Jack, he said, “It sounds very reasonable. Counterfeiters have to use a printing press. And counterfeiters do something illegal and therefore have to hide.” He nodded his head. “Sounds very logical.”

They returned to their seats. “But,” continued Paul, “even if we grant the fact that they are counterfeiters, how do all the other incidents fit in? The fires and Mr. Grey for example?”

“Must they fit in?” inquired Ken.

“They don’t have to,” was Paul’s reply, “but I have a notion that they do.”

Jack nodded and agreed with his chum. “I feel the same way about it,” he said. “It is very possible that what we have discovered today has absolutely nothing to do with the fires or Mr. Grey. But somehow I have a feeling that there is some connection. But I can’t say what.”

“But if there is some sort of a connection between all these facts, how do you think they fit in?” asked Paul.

Jack shook his head. Ken said, “Suppose we begin from the very beginning. I mean from the time you came upon the house, Jack. Now, was it not Mr. Grey who led you to the house?”

“Yes. And then he sneaked around in the back and scared me half to death.”

“All right. Now if he had anything to do with the counterfeiters do you think he would have led you to that very house he wants you to keep away from? If he were a member of that gang of counterfeiters and he knew you were following him, don’t you think he would lead you to some other part of town?”

Paul said, “That may sound logical, but the opposite may also sound logical. For example, if we concede that the fellow who hit Jack on the head and then ran away did it to frighten him so that he would keep away from there, why can’t we say the same thing about Mr. Grey? Is it not possible that Mr. Grey knew he was being followed and purposely led Jack to that very house, then sneaked up behind him to frighten him so that he would never return? Isn’t that very plausible?”

“Say,” cried Jack, “if what you say is true, that fellow certainly made a mistake.”

“And how!” echoed Ken.

“Now if we know all that,” continued Paul, “that makes Mr. Grey a member of the gang of counterfeiters.”

“But what about the fires? And leading Betty away. And those white cards, what about them? And the robbery at Professor Link’s?”

The boys looked at each other very glumly. “The whole thing is like a crazy jigsaw puzzle,” muttered Paul.

“Telling me!” mumbled Ken. “It has already given me a headache. The thing worries me so, I can’t sleep nights.”

The boys laughed at the manner in which Ken said it. “You have to sleep,” remarked Jack. “Otherwise how are we going to solve this jigsaw puzzle of a mystery?”

The boys sat around and brooded. Three minds with one thought—how to solve the mystery; how all the details fitted into the general picture. They were so silent and lost in thought that they were not at all aware of Ken’s little sister Betty approaching and regarding them with surprise. She stood rooted in one spot and stared at her brother and his two friends. Finally she couldn’t bear it any longer. She opened her mouth wide and cried suddenly, “Boo!” The boys jumped as though they were shot. Reassured again, they smiled heaving sighs of relief. “Mother says you should come to dinner,” she said.

“Dinner!” exclaimed Ken. “Is it time for dinner already?”

All three simultaneously looked at their watches. “My, how time flies,” mumbled Jack. “Twelve-thirty already.”

Mrs. Armstrong came to the porch and called, “Betty!”

“I’m right here, Mother,” cried the child. And she ran to the porch.

“Did you find Ken?”

“He is at the garage. And Jack and Paul too.”

“Tell them all to come in; lunch is ready.”

The boys entered the house. Paul and Jack telephoned home that they were having lunch with Ken. At the table, in the midst of the meal, Jack almost choked as he thought of something. “Hurry up, fellows,” he whispered. “I’ve just thought of something important.”

“Can’t you at least eat without thinking?” mocked Ken.

“Yes, take it easy,” was Paul’s advice.

“Choke easy, you mean,” corrected Ken.

“Stop all that talk,” spoke up Jack, “and hurry up and finish. I want to get out and talk this thing over.”

As soon as they were through with their meal, the boys retreated to the garage again. “Now what is it?” asked Paul.

“It is something that I thought of just as soon as we got into the cellar,” replied Jack, “but it slipped my mind and I forgot to mention it.”

“Well, what is it?” asked Ken. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“It’s this. When we descended the stairs into the cellar, Paul, it occurred to me that if the police cornered the gang of counterfeiters in that cellar, how would they manage to escape?”

“They wouldn’t,” was Ken’s opinion.

“Suppose you were one of the gang, wouldn’t you think of such a possibility and make sure of an exit, of a means of escape?”

“Certainly.”

“Then that means, that probably there is another entrance or exit into that cellar.”

“That’s right,” said Paul. “I’m glad you thought of it. It is something we should have thought of at once.”

“Oh I wish you didn’t,” said Ken, pretending that he was in tears, “because that only adds another item in the puzzle to solve.”

“Which isn’t going to be very easy.”

“No, it certainly won’t.”

“Let’s come down to earth now,” remarked Jack, “and think in terms of action. What are we going to do now? What should be our plan of action from now on? Can you think of anything, Paul?”

For a short while, there was silence. At last Paul ventured to suggest, “We might, for example, give up following Mr. Grey; at least temporarily. Then we have to watch that house and get to know the men entering and leaving and determine as well as we can who the members of the gang are.”

“I was just thinking of something,” remarked Ken. “Do you remember, Paul, how hostile the grocery man was and how he squirmed out of giving you any information about Mr. Grey?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well, it just occurred to me, that the man must know something if he is so anxious to conceal it.”

“Hmm!” muttered Jack.

“Another thing,” continued Ken. “Isn’t it true, Jack, that each time you followed Mr. Grey, it seemed to you that he emerged from that corner house, the house in which the store is situated?”

“That’s right. What are you driving at?”

Ken scratched his head. “I feel this way about it,” he said, “that most likely that corner house is owned or at least rented by the grocery man. Now if Mr. Grey comes out of that house, he must live there.” His two companions leaned forward and listened to him attentively. They suspected that what he was saying might be very valuable. He continued, “Therefore, if Mr. Grey lives in that house, the grocery man must know him; under ordinary circumstances, he would have no reason to say that he didn’t know Mr. Grey. It therefore follows that either he knows that Mr. Grey is a crook or possibly he himself is somehow involved in the situation.”

The boys gasped. The reasonableness and logic of Ken’s statement was beyond question. Yet how true was it? If it were true, another missing link was being added to the already complicating puzzle. “Then why,” asked Jack, “should the woman have mentioned the name Mr. Grey when you entered the store and asked for information Ken?”

Paul answered, “That’s simple. If we assume that what Ken said is true, the grocery man’s wife knows nothing of her husband’s operations and very innocently gave away the name.”

“Yes, that’s right,” agreed Ken.

“That only makes it worse,” muttered Jack.

Again the group became silent. They would hit upon an idea, discuss it rapidly and then they would brood for a while. Jack leaped to his feet. “Let’s do something,” he cried.

Paul rose. “I for one,” he said, “am going home and I suggest you do the same. That will calm us down. Then we will meet again after supper and—do something.”