Quintus Oakes Part 25

He walked over to Oakes and spoke to him in a low voice. The detective asked a question or two, and turning looked at Dr. Moore, asleep in a chair, f.a.gged out, then at me. I was wide awake, antic.i.p.ating more trouble. "Stone," said he, "are you good for a ride with me on horseback? We have found something important."

"Yes," I answered, "I am ready."

Speaking a word to Hallen and Martin, Oakes drew me aside. "Leave your overcoat. Come, we are needed."

We pa.s.sed out into the night and down a side street, led by the man who had summoned us. In a few minutes we reached a stable and found horses, and I knew that it had been so arranged. We were mounted and off without notice from any but an hostler and the proprietor, who had told me that my horse was strong and capable.

We pounded to the east, along the Highway, toward Lorona, for a mile or so, then swerved into a narrow road winding across the plateau to the south and west. I knew we were making for the River Road below the Mansion. I had heard of this lane, which swept in a long curve around the southern end of Mona, connecting the Highway with River Road about two miles south of the Mansion gate.

As we galloped along, Oakes communicated to me the cause of our trip.

"Two of my men have located a hut deep in the forest at the south end of the Mansion grounds. There is something going on there. They think they have the murderer. One of the men came for me; the other is watching."

I felt the blood surge to my brain, and the hards.h.i.+ps of the night were forgotten in the intensity of my antic.i.p.ations. At last, and I was to be at the finis.h.!.+

Instinctively I felt for my revolver. It was safe, and the a.s.surance that it was with me gave relief.

Fortunately, I was a fair horseman and my mount was one of those animals that respond to the rider's every command. My two companions were also well mounted, and the long ride was soon over. Arriving at River Road, we dismounted and left the horses in charge of the man who had accompanied us. Another man now came from the darkness--another of Oakes's retinue. He was to lead us to the hut.

Then we three entered the fringe of the woods, and cautiously followed our guide deep into the denser section. The moon was hidden occasionally by fleeting clouds, and as we advanced farther and farther, its rays ceased to reach us. All was gloom, deep and almost impenetrable.

Our guide whispered: "He is in the hut, sir, waiting for someone. Follow me."

Then he advanced a few paces, and led us through a more open section of the forest. Soon he stopped.

"Stay here until you see a light flash ahead; that is his signal. He has been here an hour, but his friend is slow in coming."

"Perhaps he knows it is too dangerous," said Oakes.

Our guide went from us to a short distance, to keep separate watch.

The giant trees around were more scattered than elsewhere in the forest through which we had pa.s.sed. Occasionally the sheen of the moonlight was visible far above us as the branches swayed in the breeze. Here below, the air was quiet and the gloom deep. Our eyes, accustomed to it now, could detect the silent army of tree-trunks around us for a considerable distance.

The air was chilly, but excitement kept us from feeling the need of our great-coats. Beneath our feet the ground was soft but dry, and the leaves were scattered about in profusion; for this was the fall of the year and the woods had begun to strip at the touch of the frost king.

Quintus Oakes stood by my side behind a tree. We were both gazing intently in the direction that had been indicated to us. Nothing was visible for a few moments, when suddenly Oakes pressed my shoulder with his hand and said in a low, quiet voice: "See--off there, that flas.h.!.+"

I had noticed nothing, but as I drew breath to answer, I beheld the diverging rays of a light--probably a lantern--play up and down a tree-trunk at least a hundred feet away. It moved quickly, and then jumped to another trunk; in its transit it threw a long, narrow yellow streak on the ground between. Then it would be lost suddenly to our view. I thought the trees intervened in our line of vision at such times, but Oakes explained: "He is waiting and signalling with a dark lantern; see how the light is shut off at will. He is surely within a hut of some kind; I can see the outlines occasionally."

"What can he be up to?" I whispered. "He is at least a mile from the Mansion, and nearly as much from the road."

"That light is a guide," said Oakes. "His confederate cannot find the hut without it; the forest is too dense."

We waited in silence, stealing very carefully nearer to the hut, and our patience was finally rewarded. We saw the door, which was sidewise to us, open with a quick movement and a man enter. Then all was dark within and without, save in one little spot where, through the back wall of the hut, a few rays found exit in long, narrow streaks of yellow light, scarcely visible to us.

"He has turned his bull's eye away from the window and the door, and has not shut it. They are using the light for some purpose," said the detective, touching my arm and motioning me to follow him.

With utmost caution we advanced until we were near enough to hear voices. At first they came to us as a low, indistinct muttering, but as we neared the hut we determined that they were raised in argument. At our distance, however, we were unable to recognize either.

"Keep away from the front," said Oakes, "lest the door be opened and we be discovered."

We stationed ourselves in the shadow near the window, which was low in the side of this curious log-cabin--for such we saw it to be. It was boarded inside evidently, for the light was kept from without too well.

Through the window we beheld two dim forms bending over a board table.

One was handling something like paper, in the diverging streak of illumination from the bull's eye opening of the lantern, which was on the table, facing the back wall of the hut, just as Oakes had said.

The figure could not be distinguished either as to face or form, for the light was very indistinct save in the immediate path of the rays. As we moved ever so little from our chosen positions, our vision of the table and the streak of light upon it was cut off, owing to the small size of the window. I knew by the movement of Oakes's arm that he had secured his weapon, and I closed my hand about mine, holding it--muzzle down--by my side, ready for instant use.

The voices within, became louder, and I distinguished the words: "You _must_, man, you MUST get away."

It was answered by a half-mumbled protest, and then we saw one figure arise and stoop over the light on the table.

"Here, take this, and go!"

Oakes touched me. "The murderer preparing to get away," he said.

We could see a pair of hands counting what appeared to be money; then they extended their contents to the other hands that awaited them. The figure who had given the money arose, and with his back to us made as if to leave. Suddenly, without an instant's warning, we saw the form of the other come partially into view, and an arm steal slowly upward. As the first figure moved away, it closed about his neck and a death struggle began, revealed to us by the blurred swaying of the two and a deep, despairing gasp from the man being strangled.

"Murder!" said Oakes, and we moved toward the door of the hut with one thought in mind--the helping of a fellow being meeting his death at the hands of what we believed to be the a.s.sa.s.sin of Mona.

I was excited; it was unquestionably the most trying moment of my life, and I met it as we had not foreseen. Advancing two steps hurriedly, my feet caught in one another somehow, and with a wild war-whoop of distress I fell forward on my face, carrying Oakes with me in a cras.h.i.+ng, headlong mix-up that must have been heard for a hundred yards in that still morning air.

It was all over!

The two in the hut heard us, the strangler released his hold and the light was extinguished instantly. Out of the door the figures flew like demons. They were both anxious to escape detection--that was evident.

They must have thought it was the charge of the Light Brigade.

Oakes and I were up and after them. He shouted a word of command, then I heard more footsteps, and our guide answered. Instantly came the sounds of a struggle, fierce but short, in the darkness beyond. We could see nothing, but we heard a heavy fall, and then the rush of an escaping man, or men. Oakes and I were quick to reach the spot, and managed to find our forest guide groaning on the ground.

At Oakes's suggestion we carried him back to the hut, which I ascertained was now quite empty. It was a grewsome experience, this.

Oakes refused to allow a match to be struck, saying: "Don't draw their fire, Stone; we may be in a nest of them." My chagrin was deep as I thought of the opportunity that my clumsiness had brought to naught. We soon succeeded in reviving our man; he had been felled by a fist blow on the face, evidently.

"Did you see the other fellow?" asked my companion.

"Yes, sir, I saw one; he was Skinner. I caught his face in the lantern light just as they doused it."

"Indeed!" cried Oakes. "Skinner! You mean the man who runs the newspaper--the one I have ordered shadowed."

"Yes, sir; the same. It was he who was counting the money."

"Yes, that agrees. Go on. Who was the other?"

"I did not see him at all, Mr. Oakes, but I ran into him, or rather he into me. I have a piece of his s.h.i.+rt here, sir."

The man handed something to Oakes, and together we peered at it in the dim morning light. We soon determined that it was a good-sized piece of the neck of a s.h.i.+rt.

Then, watching carefully the woods around, I stood on guard, while Oakes examined the inside of the hut. It was an old hunter's cabin evidently, and had not been recently used. The table was made of rough boards, and was supported by two stumps. It might have served as a place to lie upon also.

Oakes uttered an exclamation, as the guide handed him a piece of paper money that was on the floor. Nothing else was found. The lantern had gone with the men.