“Not at all. Although my Experience at the front taught me that, despite the high point of efficiency reached by the gunners, a direct hit is only scored accidentally—unless the range is almost point blank. I’ll venture the assertion that the gun from which that shell was fired is located not over two miles away. In fact, a mile would be a closer guess.”
Backus agreed with me. For despite the fact that he was only a small town policeman, he was no fool.
The wizened president grinned sardonically.
“You’ll be telling me next that you can point out the place,” he laughed.
“I’m almost tempted to say that I can.” I looked around me for a second, then inquired. “By the way, where does this creek lead from?”
Backus leaned forward excitedly.
“By ginger!” he ejaculated. “You’ve hit it. They shot down the creek. They are located in the hills south of town. It’s me to investigate.”
“On the contrary,” I returned, “you’ll do nothing of the sort, Chief. You’re too well known. I am a stranger here and my face is unfamiliar, probably, even to the leader of the mysterious band. Let me look over the ground first. I am likely to see things that might be hidden from you. It’s my business to search for the hidden things.”
“But it’s my place—”
“Larson’s right,” interrupted Grimes. “A stranger is much more likely to succeed than a person so well known as yourself.”
“But—”
I clapped the big officer on the shoulder. “I know just how you feel, Chief. But I’ll promise to make no move until I’ve informed you—that is if I find anything suspicious. You can make the arrests and get the credit.”
“All right and good luck,” he answered. “Meanwhile, I’ll scout around here and see what else I can pick up. I suppose that you’ll start right away?”
“This very minute.”
“Just a second,” Grimes exclaimed. “For all we know, there may be spies lurking about. Why not let Joan and me drive you back to the house. From there you can skirt the hill in a southwesterly direction and come down the creek instead of going up. Such a move will divert suspicion.”
“You’re right,” I answered, while the chief nodded a grudging assent. “Let us get busy at once—that is if you are through here, Mr. Grimes.”
The little president proved himself a man of action by calling to Joan and hastily climbing back into the machine. Ten minutes later we were at home.
“Do you start immediately?” inquired Joan, who, up to this time had taken no part in the conversation, although she had been an interested listener.
“As soon as I have secured my revolver from my grip.”
She accompanied me into the house, Grimes preferring to wait on the veranda, stating that he would go with me a short distance to show me the general lay of the land.
As we reached the seclusion of the hallway, Joan turned to me, a look of worry on her sweet face.
“Please don’t go,” she whispered, lowering her voice purposely to keep her uncle from hearing.
I was astonished both by her tone and the words.
“I don’t understand.” I returned.
She seemed at a loss for words.
“I— I have a feeling that you will get into trouble,” she finally replied, laying her hand on my arm.
I laughed. “I’ve been doing that all my life. The worst I ever got was a dose of tear gas, overseas. Haven’t you got any better reason than that?”
“Only a woman’s intuition — a woman’s reason,” she smiled. “In other words, I don’t want you to go — because. That’s all I can tell you — because!”
“I’m afraid that it will have to be a better reason than that to keep me from going,” I laughed. “Your uncle hired me to run this thing down. I’m drawing a salary from him and the quicker I earn my salt the better.”
She shrugged her shoulders prettily, as if dismissing the subject and turned aside into her own apartment.
Chapter IV
To change my attire for a garb more suited to walking over the rough ground and to look over the service revolver, which had been packed away in my valise, did not occupy five minutes.
Yet, as I stepped out into the hallway, I saw pinned against the panel of my door a typewritten note. It read:
“Cut out your investigation or you will get into trouble. Too many people are involved in this affair for us to take chances—so keep out of it. A word to the wise is—or should be — sufficient.
“THE MAN IN THE BLACK MASK.”
Hastily thrusting the missive into my pocket, I hurried down the stairway, looking in every direction for possible spies.
No one was in sight. Yet it was clear that someone inside the house had written that warning—and that the writer was in league with the man who was threatening the factory—or was “The Man in the Black Mask” himself. Only three people besides myself knew of my contemplated plan of action—Backus, Grimes, and Joan. Backus was eliminated by the fact that he was still at the scene of the explosion. This left but two who were in the secret, Joan and her uncle. Was it possible that one of them was the traitor? The idea startled me. It seemed absurd — yet one finds some strange things when investigating crime.
From the big living room, the door of, which was partly open, came the click of a typewriter. I halted momentarily and looked in. Joan was at work at the machine. She looked up and smiled as she saw me. I imagined, however, that there was a slight flush upon her cheeks and that she did not look me squarely in the eyes.
“Just practicing,” she responded in reply to my question. “Uncle often lets me write his letters for him here at home.”
She invited me to enter. But I excused myself, pleading haste, and joined Grimes outside.
My head was whirling. For the momentary halt had given me time enough to discover that the ribbon on the machine she was using was a peculiar shade of green. The note of warning I had received had been written with a green ribbon.
But that was not alclass="underline" Lying on the floor beside her—where it had evidently fallen—was half of a sheet of note paper. And the other half, unless my eyes deceived me, was reposing in the pocket of my coat.
Was Joan Marne the mysterious “Man in the Black Mask?” It seemed impossible — far-fetched—unthinkable. Yet there were half a dozen clews leading in her direction. And her actions in attempting to dissuade me from going into the matter any farther damned her. I hated to believe the evidence. Yet it was piling up against her.
Chapter V
To avoid needless description, and at the same time give the reader a rough outline of the general lay of the land so that he may better understand the events which follow, a rough map of Elkhorn and vicinity is printed on the next page.
As will be seen by this sketch, practically all of the wealthier residents of Elkhorn, most of whom were directors and stockholders in the chemical company, resided along, this country road where the contour of the land gave them better opportunities for spacious grounds and broad lawns than did the little town itself, huddled as it was between the hills. Grimes’ home was at the extreme south end of the road which ran from the factory around the hills.
Grimes, as excited as a youngster, left me at the edge of the little forest southwest of his residence after giving concise directions regarding the best method of skirting the hill to the right and reaching the creek. He pleaded to be allowed to accompany me, but his common sense led him to agree with me that he, like Backus, was too well known. And, too, I wanted to be alone — to diagnose the affair in my own mind. Joan appealed to me as no woman had ever appealed before, yet I could not drive the idea from me that every step I took was tightening the coils about her. For the first time in my career as a man-hunter my sympathies were all with the criminal.