The Great Oakdale Mystery Page 5

  CHAPTER IV.

  A MAN “WANTED.”

  Captain Stone, who seemed to be amazingly conversant with the newfootball rules, which of late he had studied faithfully during all hisspare moments, tried hard to impart an understanding of them to theother boys, the most of whom were eager to learn, their willingnesskeeping them at practice until the gathering darkness finally forcedthem to stop.

  Upon the occasion of his son leaving Oakdale Academy for the purpose oftaking a final college preparatory year in one of the leading prepschools of the country, Urian Eliot had contributed five hundred dollarsfor the purpose of carrying out a plan for certain improvements of theOakdale gymnasium. These improvements had been made, and now in one endof the former bowling alley there were heated dressing rooms and anumber of shower baths. This made it possible for the boys to take theirshowers after practice or games, and then rub down and dress in comfort.

  Hurrying to the gym, Fred Sage lost no time in stripping off his soiledand sweaty football clothes and making a dive for one of the showercompartments. The rooms resounded with the voices of the boys, and fromsome of the showers rose whoops and boos and strange gasps mingling withthe hissing rush and drip of water.

  “Hey, there, Cooper!” called a voice. “What are you doing? Turn on thecold. You’ll parboil yourself in a minute. Look, fellers—look a’ thesteam coming out of Chipper’s cell!”

  “Aw, go on and mind your business,” came from the steaming compartment.“I always start with it warm and turn off the hot gradually till it’scold enough to suit me.”

  “And that’s abaout cold enough to bile aigs,” chuckled Sile Crane, alanky country boy who talked through his nose. “Hurry up there, Chipper,and give a feller a chance. Tuttle’s treatin’ on peanuts, and you won’tgit none if you don’t git a move on.”

  “Somebody can have my place,” said Sage, as he shot out of thecompartment, dripping icy water from every part of his shining body.“Where’s my towel? I left it right here. Somebody has swiped my towel.”

  In a moment he had found the towel and was using it vigorously. Athorough scrubbing set his firm flesh aglow, and he jumped into hisclothes feeling as fresh and vigorous as if he had not tramped theforenoon through, carrying a gun, and followed that up by an afternoonof strenuous football practice. He was almost fully dressed when heobserved Sleuth Piper, still adorned in football togs, standing a shortdistance away and regarding him through half closed lids. In some storySleuth had read that whenever he wished to concentrate his mind on anyperplexing problem the hero of the yarn always gazed fixedly at someobject through partly closed eyelids.

  “Hi, there, Pipe!” called Fred sharply. “Going to sleep? Wake up. Goingto wear those rags the rest of the evening?”

  “Hush!” said Piper, frowning and lifting a reproving hand. “Don’tinterrupt me that way when my mind is at work upon a problem.”

  “Forget it,” advised Fred. “You’ll be late for supper. Cæsar’s ghost!but _I’m_ as hungry as a bear.”

  He was the first one to leave the gymnasium, and he strode awaywhistling. In a few moments, however, he ceased to whistle and proceededwith his head slightly bent and his hands sunk deep in his pockets.Finally, with a shake of his shoulders, he tossed back his head,muttering:

  “Confound Sleuth, anyhow! He’s always trying to make a deep, darkmystery out of any unusual occurrence. It was _queer_ that the manshould ask about the Sages and then run away when he knew I was coming,but it isn’t likely he’ll ever be seen again by anyone around here, sowhat’s the use for me to addle my brains over it?”

  Truly, Fred seemed “hungry as a bear,” and the manner in which he sweptthe food from the supper table made his mother gasp and caused hisfather to chuckle.

  “One thing about football,” said Mr. Sage, “boys who play the gamearen’t apt to be finicky about their food. How did you get along at thefield this afternoon, son?”

  “First-rate, everything considered. Of course the new rules are going tobother us a little, but Stone seems wise to them, and I fancy he’ll beable to do pretty well with the team, though of course we’re going tomiss Eliot.”

  “A fine boy, Roger Eliot,” nodded Andrew Sage.

  “Sure thing,” agreed Fred instantly; “and his father comes pretty nearbeing the real thing, too. When we first came to Oakdale people weresaying that Urian Eliot was cold and close-fisted, but look what he didfor the school. We’ve got a new gym now, heated and lighted and fittedout with shower baths, like a first-class place. I tell you, the fellowstake off their hats to Mr. Eliot these days.”

  “Oakdale people are just beginning to realize that Eliot has done agreat deal for the town,” said Mr. Sage. “He’s one of our solid,reliable citizens. Only for him, we’d still be without a bank.”

  After supper Andrew Sage lighted his pipe, and Fred, feeling no desireto go out, settled down to a book before the comfortable open fire inthe sitting-room.

  An hour had not passed when there came a ring at the door-bell, and Fredhimself rose at once to answer. On the steps stood a dark figure withcoat collar upturned and cap pulled well down. Blinded a little by thesudden change from light to darkness, the boy failed to recognize thecaller.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  “’St!” came back a sibilant hiss. “It’s me, Piper. Why don’t you ask afeller in? Almost cold enough to freeze to-night.”

  “Oh, come in, Sleuth,” was the invitation, and the visitor lost no timein stepping out of the chilly wind that swept round the corner of thehouse.

  “What brings you up here at this hour?” questioned Fred.

  “Hush! I’m doing my duty. I’m gathering up the scattered threads one byone. The skein shall be untangled.”

  Piper was known to Mr. and Mrs. Sage, who spoke to him pleasantly,although both were somewhat surprised by this, his first, visit to theirhome. Having removed his cap and jammed it into the side pocket of hiscoat, Sleuth deported himself in his usual mysterious manner when“investigating,” and suddenly the other boy began to fear that he wouldspeak of the stranger in the presence of the older people.

  “I’m glad you dropped around, Pipe,” said Fred. “I suppose you want totalk football? Come on up to my room; we can chin there as much as welike.”

  The caller was more than willing, and they mounted the stairs to Fred’sroom, which was large, comfortable and exceedingly well furnished. ButPiper, still bearing himself “professionally,” gave little heed to theaspect of the room.

  “I’ve come,” he announced, declining to sit down, “to propound a fewvital questions, which I trust you may see fit to answer without evasionor subterfuge.”

  “What’s this?” laughed Sage. “Is it a court of inquiry?”

  “Not exactly. Of course there is no compulsion in the matter, but,assuming that you have nothing to conceal, there should be no reason forrefusing the information I require.”

  “Oh, say, Sleuth, don’t you ever get tired of it? It must be wearisome,searching for these deep, dark mysteries in a quiet, uneventful countrytown like Oakdale. Of course I know what you’re driving at, and in thiscase I think you’re trying to make something out of nothing—and that’simpossible.”

  Piper shook his head. With his hands locked behind his back, he slowlypaced the floor.

  “You are like the usual order of persons who lack the analytical mind,”he retorted. “You fail to see the true significance of apparentlycommonplace events. I am different. At this moment I feel assured thatwe are face to face with one of the most perplexing mysteries on record.I’ve interviewed Hooker this evening, and from him I obtained a certainamount of information concerning the mysterious man he encountered inthe woods beyond Culver’s Bridge. According to his statement, that manwas about twenty-six years of age, and apparently something like fivefeet and ten inches in height. Hooker judged that this person shouldweigh in the neighborhood of one hundred and sixty pounds. Hiscomplexion was
medium, and he had hair slightly curly. His eyes wereblue, his teeth white and even, and his smile pleasant. His voice wasagreeable, but he showed traces of nervousness and anxiety. He spokewith some bitterness of people who had wealth and employed laborers. Roystates that, as far as he could see, the man bore no peculiarlydistinguishing mark, like a scar or deformity.”

  “Well,” said Fred, lounging on the Morris chair, “why should theappearance of such a stranger interest you so deeply?”

  “Wait,” said Piper, halting in front of Sage’s chair. “This man madeinquiries concerning your family. He must have known you.”

  “We’ve lived in Oakdale only three years. There are people outside ofthis place who know us.”

  “Quite true; but when he learned that you were near at hand, and when heheard you approaching, the man disappeared in a most astounding,inexplicable and unaccountable manner. He didn’t wait until you shouldcome forth to meet him face to face.”

  “That was rather odd,” admitted Sage.

  “And, furthermore, you have stated that you have no idea who the personcan be.”

  “Not the slightest.”

  “Is there anything connected with your past or that of your parentswhich, for good and sufficient reasons, you wish to conceal?”

  Fred sat up suddenly. “Why should you imagine anything of that sort?” heretorted sharply. “Of course it’s nonsense.”

  “H’m!” said Sleuth. “It’s a rare family closet that doesn’t contain askeleton.”

  “Well, Piper, if you’ve come here to pry into private family affairs,you may as well chase yourself at once.”

  “Restrain your annoyance, Sage; check your angry resentment. If youchoose to unbosom yourself to me in my professional capacity, you may doso with the assurance of my honorable intention to hold inviolate anysecret with which I may be entrusted.”

  Fred’s face was flushed and he betrayed annoyance, which, however, heendeavored to restrain.

  “Cut out that fol-de-rol, Piper. There’s no reason why I should tell youany family secrets, if we happen to have them. As you’ve just said,doubtless there are few families who do not have some minor secrets theychoose to keep hidden; but, as a rule, such things concern no othersthan those personally interested. Again, let me repeat that you aretrying to make something out of nothing, and it’s extremely ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps so,” retorted Sleuth. “But tell me, did you ever hear of a manby the name of James Wilson?”

  “Never. What has he to do with the matter?”

  The visitor drew a folded newspaper from an inner pocket of his coat.“It’s my custom,” he said, “to take special note of the records of crimeand criminals as contained in the press of the day. I never overlookanything of the sort. Here in this paper is the description of one JamesWilson, _alias_ ‘William Hunt,’ _alias_ ‘Philip Hastings,’ but knownamong his pals as ‘Gentleman Jim.’ This man is described as twenty-sixyears of age, five feet, ten inches in height, and weighing one hundredand sixty pounds. While there are no distinguishing marks upon hisperson, he has blue eyes; a medium complexion; hair slightly curly;white, even teeth; a pleasant smile; an agreeable voice; and white,shapely hands, which show evidence of recent arduous labor. This laborwas performed in prison, from which Jim Wilson has but lately beenreleased. He is a confidence man and safe-breaker, and it seems that hisprison experience has done little to cure him of his criminalproclivities, for it is suspected that since his release he has beenconcerned in certain unlawful operations. One week ago he was arrestedin Harpersville, which is just over the state line, and placed in jailto await the arrival of officers who wanted him. But Mr. Wilson, _alias_‘William Hunt,’ _alias_ ‘Philip Hastings,’ _alias_ ‘Gentleman Jim,’ is aslippery customer, and he didn’t remain in that insecure jail. Insteadof doing so, he broke out of his cell, cracked the guard’s skull, andmade good his escape. The guard is not expected to live, and theauthorities have offered a reward of five hundred dollars for thecapture of the murderous scoundrel.”

  “Well!” breathed Sage, who had listened with swiftly increasinginterest. “Do you think this James Wilson and the stranger Hooker talkedwith this forenoon are one and the same?”

  “I haven’t a doubt of it,” declared Sleuth.