The light of the flash disclosed the features of Clint Kale.
He took the glass jar, a curious contrivance which contained an insulated rod. On the top of the rod was a button. At the lower end of the rod, safely incased in the glass, were bits of gold leaf, hanging limply.
Clint Kale took an ebonite rod, rubbed it briskly, waved it over the metal button. After an interval he touched the button with his finger, withdrew the rod.
The bits of gold leaf, attached to the end of the insulated rod flew apart, remained rigidly erect, each repelling the other.
Clint Kale had created an electroscope. The bits of gold leaf, each being charged with a similar kind of static electricity, repelled each other. Yet let them come in contact with a field of electrical energy, the charges would be dispelled and the leaf would collapse.
Holding the electroscope in his left hand, nestled in a specially constructed holder, Clint Kale moved about the house, holding the electroscope near the walls, sliding it over the floor, pushing it up to within a short distance of the ceiling.
Room by room he went through the place.
In the cellar he slid the electroscope past a section of what appeared to be solid concrete. Of a sudden the leaves of the instrument collapsed.
Clint marked the place. Then he again separated the gold leaf and began a series of experiments. When he had finished, he had a certain section of wall carefully marked.
He gave that section careful attention.
Its secret was disclosed only after microscopic examination. The section of wall had been so cunningly fitted that it was almost impossible to notice the lines which marked the junction of the removable section and the rest of the wall.
Clint Kale removed the section.
There was disclosed a hidden recess. In that recess was the tube of radium, also certain other papers and documents, a great pile of currency.
Clint went back upstairs, got out a camera and tripod from the bag he had brought to the house with him and got to work.
He made a double exposure on the plate. One exposure was of the opened recess with its papers, its currency, its radium. The other exposure was from the same place, but with the section of wall back in place.
The plate, when developed, would give the X-ray effect of a solid wall behind which would be visible the documents, the money, the radium capsule.
Clint exposed another plate in the same manner.
Then he carefully packed up all his belongings and left the house as furtively as he had entered.
Chapter V
Trick Photography
It was well toward noon when the thump of many steps sounded in the corridor of the Palace Hotel. Heavy knuckles sounded imperatively upon the wooden panel.
Clint Kale opened the door.
The solemn-faced delegation greeted him with elaborate formality. There was Chief Ellery Hatcher. There was Carl Rosamond, the reporter of the Courier. There was Thomas Jefferson Train, and there was the wizened form of the astute Ezra Hickory.
“Mr. Kale,” said the chief, “this here is Ezra Hickory.”
Clint Kale bowed.
“A client of mine,” hastily interposed the district attorney, “and I’ll do the talking — all of it, for my client, of course.”
“You are now speaking in your private capacity?” asked Clint Kale.
“Certainly,” snapped the district attorney.
“Where’s Boston Blackie?” smirked the chief.
Clint Kale spread his hands, palms out, in a deprecatory gesture.
“Gone.”
“Skipped,” said the chief.
Clint shrugged.
Thomas Jefferson Train cleared his throat.
“You lost a capsule of radium?”
“Yes.”
“That is very valuable?”
“Very.”
“You advertised, offering a reward and no questions asked?”
“Not exactly. I wanted to, but Rosamond advised against it. Therefore no formal offer of reward was ever made.”
The district attorney’s face twitched.
“You can’t get around it by no such technicality,” he said. “My client found that radium, or some radium.”
He gestured to Ezra Hickory. That individual took from his pocket a package. The package was undone. A gold capsule fell to the table.
“That’s it!” yelled Clint, and swooped toward the capsule.
Chief Hatcher’s hairy paw snapped down upon his wrist.
“No, ye don’t,” said the chief.
“You’ll have to identify it as yours first,” said the district attorney.
“But of course it’s mine. How else would any radium get to this community? Why not have your client tell how he got it?”
“That,” said Train, with dignity, “will come later. For the present we are inquiring into your title. The thing that makes me more suspicious than anything else is the small amount of the reward offered. According to your own declaration this radium is worth approximately one hundred thousand dollars. Yet the reward you offer is but a paltry thousand. That, in itself, is enough to indicate that it is not the same radium.
“As district attorney I could not allow this radium to be turned over to you until the circumstances convinced me it was the same radium.”
“Speaking officially?” asked Clint.
“Speaking officially!” rasped the district attorney.
“If the reward were increased it would convince you?”
“Yes.”
“Speaking officially?”
“Speaking officially!”
“Your client would get that reward?”
“Naturally.”
“And you would collect a percentage?”
“Of course.”
“Officially?”
“No, sir, speaking privately now, in my capacity of private attorney.”
Clint Kale rubbed a hand over the angle of his jaw.
“You seem to have me sort of sewed up!”
The lawyer said nothing.
Ezra Hickory’s features softened into a half smile.
The chief of police snickered audibly.
“What reward would you suggest?”
“As district attorney I should say a reward of ten thousand dollars would prove that you really felt the radium was yours.”
“Speaking officially?”
“Yes!”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“My client would be willing to accept it in full as a reward.”
“Speaking privately now, Mr. Train, I take it.”
“Speaking privately, sir.”
Clint sighed.
“Guess I’m hooked,” he admitted. “But first I’ll have to make certain scientific tests to determine that this is really the radium.”
“You have my permission.”
“Officially?”
“Both official and private. The chief will keep an eye on you and see there’s no funny business.”
Clint picked the capsule up with a pair of forceps, weighed it carefully, noted the weight.
“I shall require a bit of blued steel to rub it over,” he said.
“Blued steel?”
“Yes.”
The chief of police tugged at his holster, produced a six-shooter.
“Ah! Thank you, chief. Set it down there, right by Mr. Hickory, if you will. That’s fine. Now watch the barrel.”
He took the forceps, ran the capsule over the steel.
“Leave it there for a moment or two and see if the oxidation brings out any apparent change in the barrel. Now, one more thing. I have to tell where this radium was stored while it was absent from me. If radium is stored for any length of time in an electrical field it tends to lose its energy.