Dangerous Ground Part 71

"Well, not that exactly, but I think they will expect us to have organized--to have hit upon some theory and plan of action."

"Oh," said Vernet, "as to that, I have my theory--but it is for my private benefit as yet. As to what I have done, it is not much, but it is--"

"Something? a step?"

"Yes; it is a step. I have found, or I know where to find, one of the ten men who composed that Marais des Cygnes party."

"Good! I call that more than a step."

"I may as well tell you that I have worked through a 'tracker.' You know how much I am interested in that other affair."

"The Sailor business? yes."

"It seemed to me," continued Vernet, "that I might succeed there by doing the hard work myself, and that this other matter, in its present stage, might be worked out by an intelligent 'inquirer.' So I adopted this plan. I think my murder case is almost closed. I hope to have my hand upon the fellow soon. Then I can give all my time to this other case."

"So!" gazing admiringly at the handsome face opposite him. "I'm glad of your success, Van. I suppose, at the right time, you will let me into the 'true inwardness' of the Sailor business?"

"I should have been under obligation to do that long ago, if you had not been so good as to leave it all to my discretion."

"True. Well, I find that it's not unsafe to leave these things to you and Stanhope. You both work best untrammelled. Has this fellow given you much trouble?"

Vernet smiled. "Plenty of it," he said. "But in playing his last trick, he bungled. He had dodged me beautifully, and had left me under the impression that he had sailed for Europe."

"Ah!"

"Of course I wired to the other side. He had sailed in company with a lady, handsome and young. He was also good-looking and a young man."

"Well?"

"When the two arrived on the other side, they turned out to be--an old man aged sixty-five, and a child, aged ten."

"Oh!" said the Chief, as though he enjoyed the situation; "a clever rascal!"

"Well, I know where to look for him now--when I need him. I want to run down an important witness; then I shall make the arrest."

"Good! We will have the particulars at that time. And now about this Englishman's case; put what your 'tracker' has done into a report--or do you intend to work in the dark, like Stanhope?"

"Ah, what is Stanhope about?"

"I don't know. He took his time; has not been seen or heard of here for four weeks."

Vernet tapped the desk beside him, and looked thoughtfully at his _vis-a-vis_.

"Stanhope's a queer fish," he said abstractedly; "a queer fish." Then, rising, he added: "I will send my report to-morrow."

"Very good."

"And I shall not follow Stanhope's example. Once I am fairly entered into the case, I shall send my reports regularly."

"I'm glad of that," said his Chief, rising and following him to the door. "Under the circ.u.mstances, I'm glad of that."

CHAPTER LII.

THE VERDICT OF AN EXPERT.

Late in the afternoon of the day following that on which Carnegie the Expert had received his commission from the Chief of the detectives, he appeared again in the presence of that personage.

He carried his "doc.u.ments" in a small packet, which he laid upon the desk, and he turned upon the Chief a face as cheerful and as full of suppressed activity as usual.

"Well?" queried the Chief, glancing down at the packet, "have you done?"

"Yes;" beginning to open the packet with quick, nervous fingers.

"And you found--" He paused and looked up at the Expert.

Carnegie took from the packet the letter addressed to Alan Warburton, and written in the scrawling, unreadable hand. This he spread open upon the desk. Then he took another letter, written in an elegant hand, and with various vigorous ornamental flourishes. This he laid beside the first, pus.h.i.+ng the remaining letters carelessly aside as if they were of no importance.

"I find--" he said, looking hard at the Chief, and putting one forefinger upon the elegant bit of penmans.h.i.+p, the other upon the unreadable scrawl;--"I find that these two were written by the same hand."

The Chief leaned forward; he had not been able to see the writing from the place in which he sat. He leaned closer and fixed his eyes upon the two signatures. The one he had seen before; the other was signed--_Vernet_.

Slowly he withdrew his eyes from the signature, and turned them upon the face of the Expert.

"Carnegie," he asked, "do you ever make a mistake?"

"_I?_" Carnegie's look said the rest.

"Because," went on the Chief, scarcely noticing Carnegie's indignant exclamation, "if you _ever_ made a mistake, I should say, I should wish to believe, that this was one."

"It's no mistake," replied the Expert grimly. "I never saw a clearer case."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Carnegie, do you ever make a mistake?"--page 376.]

The Chief pa.s.sed his hand across his brow, and seemed to meditate, while the Expert gathered up the heap of letters and arranged them once more into a neat packet.

"If you are still in doubt," he said tartly, "you might try--somebody else."

"No, no, Carnegie," replied the Chief, rousing himself, "you are right, no doubt. You must be right."

Carnegie snapped a rubber band about the newly-arranged packet, and tossed it down beside the two letters.

"Then," he said, taking up his hat, "I suppose you have no further use for me?"

"Not at present, Carnegie."