CHAPTER XX
QUEER INTELLIGENCE
The grip of Bat Scanlon upon the throat of Bohlmier did not relax; bothhands of the Swiss clutched at the arm thrust through the trellis workof the rose arbor, but their puny strength was as nothing against thebrawn of the big athlete. After a little the hands lost their power andslid helplessly away. Scanlon no longer heard the wheezing breath in theman's chest; and, so, he let go his grip. Bohlmier crumpled up and fellto the ground.
Bat drew his arms through the frail woodwork; there were many abrasionsupon his knuckles and he was nursing these solicitously when he heardthe stumbling approach of some one through the darkness. Instantly hewas all attention; for a moment he fancied it was Nora returning; butthe steps were not like hers--they were those of a man. Within a fewyards of the rose arbor they stopped; there was a silence and then avoice said whisperingly:
"Hello! Bohlmier, are you there?"
"Big Slim!" was Bat's mental exclamation. "Hunting up his pal."
As no reply came to the lank burglar's low call, that gentleman movednearer; there was an awkward scrambling, a heavy body struck the side ofthe rose arbor and set it creaking; then the voice of Big Slim was hearduttering guarded but profane remarks.
"He's fallen over the Swiss," Bat told himself, grimly.
That this was true was proven in another moment. There came a long-drawnbreath from the man outside as though he'd made a startling discovery;then Bat saw the glimmer of a light, faint and guarded, but enough toshow the figure of the Swiss huddled on the ground, and with anotherstooping over it. The light suddenly snapped off; silence and darknessfollowed.
The silence was so long continued that Bat grew uneasy. He was anxiousto once more get on the track of Nora; also he was not quite sure as tohis own position.
"It was easy to see through this place just then," he thought. "Thatlight must have shone in a little. My friend outside is a person ofobservation; so how do I know he hasn't spotted the fact that some oneis here."
That the burglar could have recognized him, even if this were so, wasimpossible; for the light was too brief and too dim. But that he hadcaught sight of some one inside the arbor was within probability; soBat stepped with great caution toward the doorway. As he reached it hesaw, or perhaps felt, that there was a bulk directly before him, muchdenser than the darkness; and as he studied this it occurred to him thatit was about the size of a man. But he was not at all sure; so he stoodvery still, all his thews flexed, and waited for it to move. In a fewmoments there came a slow stirring; the bulk seemed to push forward.This was all Scanlon required; he lashed out with his right fist; itcrashed into a living something with frightful force; there was a lowoutcry and a fall; and then Bat stepped out into the night and was away.
A score of paces from the rose arbor he stopped. He had not the leastidea as to the direction Nora had taken, and so was puzzled about thenext thing to do. But after the fright she had gotten he felt sure thatshe'd not linger about the little patch of ground surrounding No. 620Duncan Street.
"She's away to the station," he said. "And that's my play."
So in a few moments he was on the street and hurrying toward thestation. When within two score yards of it he heard a bell clang andcaught the hiss of released steam. Then a train pulled out and rolledaway down the dark line of track. The station lights were out, theplatform was deserted and the waiting room, when he tried the door, waslocked.
"Like as not she caught that train," mused Bat as he stood upon theplatform. "And if so, all right."
He looked at a train schedule with the aid of a match, and then at hiswatch.
"Ten forty-eight," said he. "That's an hour yet. Some wait."
And a dismal, unproductive hour, too. The deserted platform, the chillwinds and the drizzle of rain, made it most uncomfortable.
"I ought to be doing something," said he. "I ought to be----"
Of course! He ought to be at the Burton house; he ought to be trying tolearn what was behind the marvel of the invalid girl who so suddenlybecame well; he ought to be eager and anxious to discover the objectiveof her cautious movements! At once, without any hesitancy, he hurriedback along the way he had just come. Lights still burned brightly incomfortable little houses, set back from the street; they glowed withcheer and family life; but on the way he did not encounter a singlepedestrian.
"Stanwick is strictly an indoor place on a rainy Sunday night," hemused, as he hurried along. "And I don't know that it hasn't the best ofit."
He was inside the iron fence at No. 620 when he detected the firstsigns of a stir; these were the low sounds of careful steps on the walkand the murmur of conversation. He crouched in the shadow thrown by thehouse; the steps grew nearer and he recognized the voices as those ofBig Slim and Bohlmier.
"I haf not much strength," wheezed the Swiss. "Holt me up! Ach! what agrip! It was like a gorilla's!"
As they drew opposite to Bat, he saw in an uncertain sort of way thatthe burglar was supporting his friend.
"Grip!" said Big Slim. "Well, the wallop he carried had some heft, too.Once I thought I had him; he stood right in front of me; but as I wasreaching for my 'gat' he drove one at me that a bull couldn't have stoodup under."
"That woman!" gasped Bohlmier, "she is full of tricks, yet. Who wouldhaf thought she had somebodies here with her."
What the burglar replied Bat could not catch, for by this time they hadreached the sidewalk. Under the light he saw the Swiss was holding tothe other feebly, and that his steps were tottering and weak.
"I must have shut down on him even harder than I thought," said Bat tohimself. "It was the knife that did it, and him whipping it out onNora."
He waited until the two had disappeared; then he made his way softlyaround the house on the side he had not examined before. Here thewindows were all blank and dark except one at the extreme rear. There hecould see the colored maid washing some glassware; this window waspartly open and he heard the woman's voice singing:
"Swing low, sweet chariot, Come fo' to carry me home."
Bat stood for a while in silent inspection of the place.
"Nothing doing, evidently," he said. "Just as quiet as you please."
He turned his eyes for a few moments upon the surrounding houses; andwhen they wandered back he noted with a start that one of the upperwindows was now illuminated. He stared steadfastly at it, and as he wasdoing so the light grew brighter; he stood wondering at this, then hesaw Mary Burton, a candle in her hand, appear at the window. But thiswas only for a moment; she moved away and the light dimmed, finallydisappearing completely.
"She's left the room and closed the door," said Bat.
A few moments passed, and then a second window, this time on the floorbelow, flashed up with light. It remained so for some little time, nowgrowing dimmer, and now stronger, showing that the girl was moving aboutthe room. Then, like the other, the window suddenly became blank. Oneafter another the windows were lighted up in the same fashion; sometimesBat saw the girl, her dressing gown held about her with one hand, whilewith the other she held the candlestick. Then both she and the lightdisappeared altogether.
"Quite an active little excursion," said Bat. "Quite active andextraordinary. What is it about, I wonder? Why this sudden paradethrough the house on the quiet?"
He remained where he was for a short space of time. But all was silentsave for the maid crooning the hymn, and the occasional inquiring barkof the dog on the next place, who probably got a strange scent comingdown the wind. As there was nothing more to be hoped for there, heshifted his position to the other side. And as he came in range of thesitting-room window he saw the invalid reclining once more in her chair,supported by pillows, and with the nurse bending over her.
"Well," said Bat, after he had pondered over this scene for some time,"that seems to be taps for the evening."
He lingered a half hour, however, thinking there might be a possibilityof something more; but as nothing happened, he made his way to thes
treet, and crossed to the opposite side. Standing in the shelteringshadows of a building, while he contemplated the Burton house once more,he was given a start by a voice saying:
"Taking a look at it, eh? Well, it's worth it. I've been here ever sincethe place was Stanwick village, and I ain't never seen goings on in anyhome like I've seen in that one."
The speaker stood almost at Bat's side; he leaned upon a cane, and fromthe shaky quality of his voice, Scanlon felt that he must be of advancedage.
"That's where the murder was done, isn't it?" asked the big athlete. Forthere was a gossipy suggestion in the tone of the old man which made ashow of non-certainty of possible value.
"Yes, sir; that's it. That's where Thomas Burton was found dead of acrushed skull," replied the old resident. "That's the house of his sonand daughter. I see the father taken away to be buried, and I see theson taken away to be put in jail. And I see the daughter's doctor comingto see her every day."
Here the old gentleman broke into a cackle of laughter.
"Every day," he repeated. "In a carriage with a little medicine case."
"An old party who seems to have his wits about him," said Bat tohimself. "And not at all backward about making a show of them."
"I have a son," continued the old man, "and my son has a wife. We live alittle piece down the street. My son's wife is fussy; she doesn't likeany kind of public notice. And so, when I wanted to go to the policewith what I've seen, she wouldn't hear of it. She said we might evenhave our names in the papers."
"Women are that way sometimes," said Scanlon. "I've noticed it more thanonce."
"Fools, I call them," declared the old resident. "But when they havecontrol of things, you've got to let them have their way." He stood withhis face turned toward No. 620 for a few moments and then continued:"Yes, sir, queer things go on in that house. People that's sick don'tact the way she does."
"Who does?" asked Bat.
"Why, that girl over there! Every day stealing away out at the back doorwith a veil over her face and some one's else clothes on, and taking ataxicab for I don't know where."
"You saw that, did you?" asked Bat, eagerly.
"Yes, sir, I saw it; and I've seen it every day since the police weretaken off guard. Sick!" again came the cackling old laugh. "Sick! Why,she ain't no more sick than I am."
Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist Page 21
