CHAPTER III
Paul Looks Into the Matter
Jack was sitting on the Morrison porch. It was about eight o’clock in the evening of the same day. Ken came walking up through the yard. “Hello, Ken.”
“Hello, Jack. What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for Paul.”
Ken came onto the porch and sat down beside his friend. “Did Paul call you too?” he asked.
“That’s right. He told me over the telephone that he had something important to talk over.”
“He told me the same thing. I wonder what it is.”
“Perhaps it is something about the fire.”
“Well, let’s not guess, but wait for Paul to tell us instead.”
Several minutes later, Paul came out. “Hello, fellows,” he called.
“Hello, Paul.”
“Hello, Paul. What is it you have to tell us?” asked Jack.
“Let’s go where we will have some privacy,” answered Paul.
Paul led them into the garage and the three boys piled into the back of the car. “Now,” said Ken, “you can tell us without anyone overhearing us. Don’t keep us in suspense any longer or we will collapse of curiosity.”
“First tell us how you feel,” spoke up Jack. “Any after effects from the smoke?”
“I feel perfectly all right,” was the answer. “Now, this is what I want to talk to you about.”
“Yes, what is it all about?”—that from Ken.
“Jack,” began Paul, “do you still have that white card? You know the one I mean.”
“Of course. I still have it, certainly. What about it?”
“Will you show it to me?”
Jack began to look through his pockets. Finally he confessed, “I guess I don’t have it with me. I must have left it home, in my other coat pocket.”
“What about the card?” asked Ken.
“Only this,” replied Paul gravely. And he showed them the card. “Is it the same card?” he asked.
Jack examined it very closely. “To me it appears as though it is the very self-same card. How did you get it?”
“Now listen closely,” whispered Paul. The other two boys leaned over. “I rushed down the burning stairs to find the room in which the child was. Well, I was groping along the wall with my hands because I couldn’t see a thing. I came upon the door and I moved my hand up and down trying to find the knob when I came upon something sticking in the doorway. Without thinking any further, I grabbed it and shoved it into my pocket.” Paul paused to add emphasis to his forthcoming statement. “And that thing was this card,” he concluded.
The boys gasped. “This card!” exclaimed Jack.
“Are you sure?” asked Ken.
“Absolutely positive,” asserted Paul.
“But how did it get there?”
“That is something I don’t know and which I would very much like to know.”
For about a minute the boys sat there in silence, overcome with amazement. Jack jumped out of the car. “Come on, fellows,” he called.
“Where to?” asked Paul.
“To my house. I want to find that card.”
Jack was so excited, he had difficulty in restraining himself from running. The other boys kept up with him, walking briskly. At the Stormways home, Jack rushed up the steps of the porch. “You wait here,” he called over his shoulder to his companions.
Two minutes later he came rushing out of the doorway. “Here it is,” he cried, waving the white card.
The two cards were compared; they were identical in every respect. “This is getting to be serious,” whispered Ken.
“Terribly serious,” added Ken. “We must do something about it. The man must be absolutely crazy.”
“Crazy is not the word,” said Paul. “Dangerous is more fitting. If he is permitted to roam the streets without being stopped, only God knows what damage he will do and what crimes he may commit.”
“But what can we do?” Jack questioned anxiously. “Our suspicions are only a hunch. These cards may only be an accident.”
“No,” said Paul, shaking his head. “My opinion is that this is no accident but the work of a distorted mind.”
The boys sat down on the porch. At a loss as to the meaning of it all, they remained silent. Paul whispered, “I’ll tell you what we can do, though.”
“What?”
“Let’s go over and see Captain Bob.”
“What for?” queried Ken.
“I want to ask his opinion on the origin of the fire.”
“Well, that won’t hurt any,” remarked Jack.
The three boys set off. Captain Bob himself opened the door for them and led them into the living room. Turning to Paul, the Captain said, “You are the boy that dashed into the burning building this afternoon, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but it was really nothing.”
Captain Bob sat himself down and pointed the boys to seats. “Well,” he drawled, “you are a modest boy. But if it hadn’t been for you, the old folks and the child would have burned to cinders.”
“If I had not entered, one of the other boys would have,” he answered. “We were the first on the scene, you know.”
“Yes, so I understand. But what is it I can do for you boys?”
Paul leaned forward in his chair. “Captain Bob,” he said, “we came over to ask you your opinion on the origin of the fire.”
“Just what do you want to know?”
Paul hesitated, not knowing exactly how to put his question. He said, “What I want to know, Captain, is whether you think the fire was—er,—an accident, or whether you think someone started the fire.”
“You are asking very serious questions,” replied Captain, knitting his brows.
“Yes, I know, but I am very much interested and—”
“May I ask why you should be interested?” asked the old man shrewdly.
“It’s only because,—er,—when I dashed into the building, I noticed something very odd about the fire.”
“Just what do you mean?”
“Well, as we ran up to the house, we noticed smoke pouring out of the front door. I dashed inside by the back door and then I saw that most of the smoke and fire seemed to be at the threshold of the front door. Now that is very odd.”
“Yes, you are quite right, my boy,” answered Captain Bob. “As a matter of fact, the front door caved in first. However, I came to the fire a little too late to really judge the cause or origin of the fire. But it did seem to me that there was something odd about the whole thing.”
“Was there anything about the fire that would lead you to believe that it was an accident or perhaps—er,—otherwise?” asked Paul, pressing his point.
Captain Bob scratched his chin thoughtfully and said, “My dear boy, you are asking some very serious questions that may get you into trouble.”
Paul insisted. “Just the same, would you form an opinion?”
“No, I really couldn’t because, as I said before, I came to the fire too late. I had no chance to look into the cause of the fire and now that the house is a heap of ashes, the chances of finding any clue is very slight. Suppose you tell me your opinion, my boy.”
“To be quite frank, Captain, I think that the fire was started by some pyromaniac.”
The Captain sat up in his chair. “What makes you think so?” he demanded suddenly.
Paul hesitated. He did not want to give himself away. “Just a hunch,” he replied.
Captain Bob sank back into his chair. For what seemed a very long time there was absolute silence. The Captain seemed to be musing over something and the boys had nothing more to say. Paul rose and his friends did likewise. “Thank you, Captain Bob,” said Paul. “I guess we will be going now.”
Escorting them to the door, the Captain said, “Don’t thank me. I am glad you came.” He hesitated. “And,—er,—don’t you go around talking about a pyromaniac, my boy. It may get you into trouble.”
“I won’t, Captain,” promised Paul.
“Goodnight, boys.”
“Goodnight, Captain Bob.”
The boys walked along for some few steps in silence. Ken spoke up. “That talk with the captain didn’t help much, did it, Paul?”
“No, very little. But I have now become more convinced than ever that the fire was the work of a mentally distorted person.”
“You count me in on that,” added Jack. “I certainly agree with you. But what can we do about it, that is the problem.”
“Doesn’t seem as if we can do anything for the present,” muttered Ken.
“Guess you’re right,” answered Paul thoughtfully. A moment later he added, “Tomorrow let us try and obtain a better description of the man from your sister, Betty, Ken. If she can tell us a few things on how he looks and the sort of clothes he wears, that would help a lot.”
“It certainly would,” agreed Ken. “We will try it tomorrow.”
“Yes. In the meanwhile there is nothing else we can do tonight. So I am for going home,” announced Paul.
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
The boys separated and went home. The following morning, they met again at Ken’s home. Taking Betty out into the yard, the boys tried to get some information from her about the man who had taken her for a walk and then deserted her at the end of the town. But the child had already forgotten him entirely and their efforts were in vain.
CHAPTER IV
Detectives
That afternoon, William went to the Stanhope Free Public Library to return a book. Walking in back of the room in search of a good novel, he came upon Paul hunched over a stack of newspapers. “What are you up to now, Paul?” he asked in a whisper.
“Tell you later.”
“A mystery, huh?” William joked.
Paul smiled and waved his friend away. “Leave me alone now,” he said, “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“Very well.”
William walked away and Paul returned to his stack of newspapers. He spent almost three hours going through the papers of the past two months. Tired, he decided to stop there. Besides, he was quite satisfied with the information he had obtained. He left the library and walked home. On the way he stopped to call for Ken but did not find him in. Crossing the street to his own home he found Jack, Ken and William on the porch waiting for him. “Well, what is the secret?” cried William. “Tell us.”
Paul motioned to the boys to follow him and he led them to the garage where they would be assured of privacy. The boys found boxes on which to sit and they gathered around Paul. “Well, what is it?” asked Jack.
“I have spent about three hours in the library this afternoon,” Paul informed them “and—”
“William told us that already,” interrupted Ken.
“I have been going through the newspapers for the past weeks,” continued Paul.
“What for?” asked Jack.
“I was looking up the fire reports. In the past two months there have been four fires, one each two weeks or so.”
“What about it?” Jack wanted to know.
“Can’t you fellows see for yourselves?” asked Paul, irritated by their indifference. “Don’t you think that in a small town such as this, a fire every two weeks is very much above the average?”
“Say,” cried Ken, “you have hit upon something. Come to think of it, that is a pretty high average.”
“But what has that to do with the story?” asked Jack.
“Simply this,” answered Paul. “Under normal conditions, there would not be such frequent fires. In other words, all the fires of the past two months may or may not have been caused accidentally.”
“You don’t think yesterday’s fire was an accident?” questioned William.
“No,” was Paul’s categorical answer.
William raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was not acquainted with the facts of the case as the other boys were. “What therefore is the conclusion?” asked Jack.
“It is evident,” returned Paul. “For the past two months at least one fire, or more has been started by a maniac.”
“This thing is becoming worse and worse,” commented Ken.
“Yes,” Paul said gravely, “the situation is very serious and it is up to us to do something.”
“Why is it up to us?” asked William. But just as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew the answer.
“Because,” was Paul’s answer, “we are the only ones who seem to be acquainted with the situation and our suspicions are quite definite.”
“Don’t you think it might be wise to acquaint the police with our suspicions?” inquired Ken.
“I am against doing anything of the sort,” stated Jack. “If we do that, there will be a public scandal. It will be in every newspaper in town and the culprit, whoever he is, will become wary. As it is, we may come upon him by surprise.”
“I agree absolutely,” commented Paul.
“What is our job going to be?” asked William, eager to do something as soon as possible.
“For the present there is only one thing we can do,” said Paul. “We will talk the whole matter over with the boys of the patrol. We are all pretty close friends and we can act as a group. The thing we have to insist upon is secrecy on the part of all the boys and to be always on guard.”
“That alone is not enough,” added William. “I suggest that we also have the boys patrolling the streets, so that in case of anything, they will be Johnny-on-the-spot.”
“That is something we will have to discuss with the rest of the boys,” asserted Paul. “In the meanwhile, suppose we notify the fellows to come to a meeting tonight after supper. Do you think it is all right?”
“Yes, I think that is a very good idea,” commented William. The other boys agreed and it was decided to meet in Ken’s garage.
That evening at about seven, the boys began to congregate in Ken’s garage. They came by one’s and two’s. Fifteen minutes later they were all there except Jack. The boys were curious as to the reason for the meeting and they wanted to start without waiting for the missing member but Paul refused. He suggested that someone run over to call Jack. Bluff volunteered. They waited about five minutes and the messenger returned saying that Jack was not home. Paul remarked, “I wonder where he could have gone?”
Nuthin’ said, “He will most likely be here any minute. In the meanwhile let’s get going.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” echoed Wallace.
Urged on by the other boys, Paul finally consented and the meeting was called to order. Paul then outlined the situation for them, told them the pros and cons of the problem and in conclusion said, “There is one more thing I want to tell you. In going through the newspaper files for information on the fire reports, I noticed that there seemed to be about two weeks difference between fires. In other words, since the last fire was yesterday, we have about two weeks in which to act. The thing for us to do now is not to talk about it to anyone outside of this group and to be always on guard. If we don’t track this maniac down, God knows what damage he is liable to do.”
For a short while there was silence. Nuthin’ grinned and remarked, “What you want us to do, Paul, is for us to become detectives.”
Nuthin’ meant it as a joke but Paul took it seriously. “That is just what I want you to do,” he asserted gravely. “We must all become detectives and find this man.”
“But the information we have is so slight. We really have no clues to work on,” protested Bobolink.
“That is very true,” replied Paul, “but we must do the best we can.”
A little later, the meeting was officially adjourned, but no boy ventured to leave. Their curiosity was aroused by Jack’s not coming to the meeting and they waited around. Paul felt anxious, though he had no reason to be. To Ken, who was sitting beside him, he whispered, “I wonder what happened to Jack!”
Ken shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t imagine. He promised to be here. And he is not home either.”
“That’s just it,” countered Paul. “The fact that he is not home implied that he was on the way over here. But something must have happened on the way to keep him from coming to the meeting.”
“We can go over and see if he is home now.”
“That is a good idea. Let’s go.”
Ken and Paul rose and the other boys did likewise. In a group they walked over to Jack’s house. Ken went in while all the others remained outside. A minute later he emerged and motioned that the missing boy was not home. The boys were disappointed and a few of them became worried. Bobolink commented, “This is becoming serious. We ought to look for him.”
Paul turned the idea down. “You fellows better go home,” he said, “and don’t worry. Jack has a right to go wherever he pleases and if he did not show up at the meeting, there must be a good reason for it.”
“But where could he have gone,” Nuthin’ asked anxiously. “After all, something may have happened to him.”
Paul, though he was anxious himself, made believe that there was nothing to worry about and laughed at the suggestion that something might have happened to Jack. “Most likely he went to see someone or something like that,” he remarked casually. “Nothing serious could have happened to him.”
“Besides, he is the sort of fellow who can take care of himself,” added Ken.
“And what’s more,” argued Paul again, “we don’t know where to look for him. And if we spread an alarm, his folks will become worried and that is something we certainly don’t want.”
“No, I guess you are right, Paul,” agreed Nuthin’.
Several of the other boys nodded and showed willingness to agree with Paul’s idea that they all go home. They walked along as a group until one by one the boys fell out to go home. Finally only Paul and Ken were left. The two boys walked side by side and Paul seemed exceedingly quiet and preoccupied with his thoughts. Ken hesitated to break in upon his friend, but finally he asked, “What are you so quiet and thoughtful about?”
“I wasn’t really thinking of anything,” the other replied.
“We may as well go home, like the others,” suggested Ken.
“No, let’s not do that. Suppose we walk down Main Street a bit. To tell you the truth, I am a bit worried about Jack.”
“Worrying won’t help any,” Ken wisely remarked.
The boys walked down Main Street and then retraced their steps. At Paul’s house, they silently sat down on the steps of the porch and remained like that, neither one uttering a sound.
CHAPTER V
A Suspicious Individual
Now let us see what really happened to Jack. He left his home with the intention of going to the meeting. As he walked along, deeply occupied with his thoughts, he suddenly became conscious of a certain individual that had just passed. Jack turned on his heel and stared at the retreating back of the individual. The man was tall and thin—gaunt; he wore a cap and a jacket and pants that hung like sacks upon him. Jack tried to think what it was about the individual that attracted his attention and he concluded that it was something wild about his appearance, about his bearing. He began to follow the man, sorry that he did not get a good look at the man’s face.
Jack went over the situation in his mind. He wanted to go to the meeting and if he did not come, the boys might feel badly. On the other hand, there was something very suspicious about the person he was following. The man appeared to be very excited, or anxious; he seemed to be very much on the alert, turning his head this way and that way, as though searching for something. Jack felt sorry that he could not get a good look at the man’s face. Perhaps he could do it now, he thought, by walking ahead then walking back toward him; or possibly by hiding in some doorway and obtaining a close view of him as the man passed. But on second consideration, he thought it better not to do that. The man might get a good look at him and remember his face, which would put him at a disadvantage.
Jack decided merely to follow and see what would happen. Twice the man turned around and looked back; Jack decided to cross over to the other side of the street. His heart pounded and he became nervous and excited. He followed, keeping his eyes glued to the back of the suspicious character. The man kept shifting his head in all directions, staring at people, at houses, at everything; his eyes seemed to bore right into things.
The man turned into John Street, usually a deserted street with only several old houses on it. Jack quickly removed the light sweater he was wearing and formed it into a small package under his arm. If the man had noticed him, the fact that he now appeared in a white shirt, carrying a package under his arm, would make the man think him a different person. The man continued walking rapidly with Jack hot on his trail. The street was very poorly lit and Jack was forced to shorten the distance between the man and himself, though he still kept to the wrong side of the street. Coming to a lonely house set on a large plot, the man suddenly dashed behind the wall. Jack felt his excitement increase. He was only sorry that Paul or one of the boys were not with him; not that he felt afraid but for the sake of companionship. He had a weird, creepy feeling to be following a man on a deserted, dark street.
Jack kept on walking as though nothing happened. He made believe that he didn’t see anything unusual. His head square on his shoulders, he kept a careful watch out of the corner of his eye. He saw a large rock on the lot he was passing and immediately he threw himself behind it. Looking from the side of his shelter, he watched the house across the street. Possibly five minutes passed and nothing happened. To him it seemed like hours. At last the man he had been following showed himself at the corner of the house. Warily, the man stuck his head out and looked in all directions. In spite of the distance between them, the man’s wild appearance, his ghostly form outlined in the dark, made Jack shiver; a cold chill ran down his spine.
At last the man came forth and walked away in the direction from which he had come. Waiting until he thought it was safe for him to follow, Jack then rose and sprinted forward until he was within about five yards of his man, who no longer shifted his head back and forth wildly but, instead kept looking straight ahead of him. Jack was glad of that because it made it easier following.
At Main Street, the man turned right. Jack followed and became more convinced that his suspicions were well founded. Beyond any doubt there was either something wrong with the man or else he was a fugitive of some sort, trying to get away. The man turned into Water Street and Jack felt a cold chill break out. Instantly it flashed upon him that the suspicious fire of the previous day had occurred on Water Street. Was the man returning to the place of his crime? Or was he on his way to perpetrate another crime, perhaps set flames to another house in the same neighborhood?
His head turned straight ahead of him, the man walked on briskly. Jack followed. Closer and closer they came to the house that had burned down. When they were within about ten yards of it, the man suddenly stopped in his tracks and very slowly turned around. In the nick of time, Jack dashed into a shadow and was out of sight. The man hesitated and then very slowly approached the heap of ashes and sticks of wood that were once a house. Jack hid himself, watching him closely, wondering what he was up to. Seeing the man approach the heap of ashes, Jack’s emotions got so strong that he could barely control himself. “Easy!” he mumbled to himself. “Take it easy now!”
He flattened himself out on the ground and watched his man who sat down on the bare earth as though in grief. The man’s shoulders heaved and soon Jack heard sobs of genuine sorrow. Jack could not help feeling sorry for the poor chap. He wondered what was wrong with him, that might have caused him to set fire to the house. For by now, Jack was no longer in any doubt as to the man’s guilt.
For some time the man sat there, hunched over, his body trembling and sobbing bitterly. At last he got on his knees and crept forward to the heap of ashes. Picking up a handful, he let the dust slide through his fingers. Five or six times he repeated this action. Finally he took out of his pocket a handkerchief, spread it out on the ground, and piled several handfuls of ashes on it; then gathering the ends together, he made a knot and put the package under his arm. Rising, he looked around and then walked off in the direction of Main Street.
Just as soon as he thought it was safe, Jack was up and following. What was the most reasonable thing to do, he tried to figure out. Should he notify the police? Should he run off and talk it over with Paul or Ken? Or should he do nothing and just follow. Unable to determine what would be his most reasonable action, he continued to follow the man and thought of nothing else.
A block before Main Street, he saw his man suddenly disappear into the side street. Becoming frantic at the thought of losing him, Jack sprinted up to the corner. He saw his man flattening out against the wall of the corner building. Jack hid behind a parked car. Was the man aware of being followed? Jack tried to think whether he had at any moment shown himself. His deliberations were cut short by the man stepping forth again and continuing on his way. Pursuer and pursued turned left on Main Street. The man increased his pace, stretching out his long legs. However, Jack had no difficulty in following. Clear across the town the two went, back to John Street into which the man turned. Jack hesitated for a second before crossing the street. There was something funny about being led back to this deserted street. Could it be possible that he was being led into a trap of some sort? Chucking his anxiety and doubt to the winds, he crossed the street to follow, but by then the man had disappeared. He walked up and down the street but the man did not return.
Jack returned to Main Street. “Whew!” He wiped the perspiration off his brow. That was some night, some chase, he thought to himself. The next moment he felt a pang of regret for having lost track of his man. However, it could not be helped and it would be useless to worry over it. Now that he had a pretty good picture of the individual—even though he had not seen the face—Jack felt certain that he would come upon him again. In the meanwhile he thought it best to go over and see Paul.
Paul and Ken were sitting on the steps of the porch. Side by side, in silence, each mused over his thoughts. Paul noticed someone approach the gate. The next moment he was on his feet and running to meet his chum. “Jack!” he cried, “where have you been?”
Ken also ran up. “Hey!” he spoke harshly, “you had us in stitches. What is the idea of disappearing like that and where have you been?”
Jack smiled. “I am sorry I had you fellows worried,” he said. “But wait until I tell you what happened to me.”
“What?” demanded Paul impatiently.
“Let’s sit down first; I’m tired.”
The boys sat down at the rear of the porch, so as not to be disturbed. Jack told his story and Paul and Ken listened gravely, interrupting every once in a while for some detailed information. They sat so closely together, listened so attentively to the narrative, that an outsider seeing them would have taken them for conspirators. In a sense they were that: they were conspiring on how to capture and rid the neighborhood of a maniac. When Jack had at last concluded, Ken let out a long whistle. Paul whispered, “That proves all my suspicions.”
“Wait a minute,” said Ken. “Let’s re-consider the whole situation. Both of you seem to have the impression that the man is a maniac, crazy. But how do you know that he didn’t contrive the whole thing just to put on a show for Jack’s sake? How do you know what the man was up to? He might have realized that he was being followed and to mislead Jack, he performed a mighty interesting show. We don’t know whether this man is guilty of burning down that house and before we are sure of it, let’s not pass judgement.”
There was silence. Those statements provided plenty of food for thought and all three of them knitted their brows. Paul said, “What you say is true, Ken. Of course, we must not pass judgement hastily. However, somehow I feel that my suspicions are correct.”
Jack nodded. “I feel the same way about it,” he offered as his opinion.
“At any rate,” argued Ken, “let’s wait and see. You say that you would recognize him if you saw him again—”
“Absolutely,” asserted Jack interrupting. “I could pick him out of a million men.”
“Very well, then. In that case, we will watch out for him. In the meanwhile, I suggest that the first thing tomorrow morning we go over to Water Street and examine the place. Perhaps we will find some sort of clue, his footprints if nothing else.”
“It’s too bad we can’t go there tonight,” said Jack.
“No. For one thing, it is too late. And secondly if someone noticed us there tonight, we would be under suspicion. And that would make everything perfect.”
“That’s settled, then,” remarked Ken as he rose. “I am going home. Coming, Jack?”
“Yes. Goodnight, Paul.”
“Goodnight. See you fellows tomorrow morning.”
“Righto!”