CHAPTER XIV--THE INTRUDERS
Several days passed without incident, and so far as Green or Forresterwere concerned, no progress had been made. Each day Green went to hispost in the pergola and lolled in an easy chair while consumingForrester's cigars at an alarming rate. With the lake rippling at hisfeet, birds calling in the trees around him, and gentle breezestempering the increasing heat of advancing summer, Green was inparadise. The monotonous hours of his watch were relieved by occasionalvisits from William, the chauffeur, and flirtations with the maids.
Forrester, on the other hand, existed in a state of feverish butprofitless activity. He secured several books on criminology and studiedthem conscientiously in the quiet of the library; he spent hours in thewoods watching the tree or spying upon the negress, Lucy. He could notfree himself from the idea that this eerie colored woman was in some wayconnected with the mystery, although Green scoffed at its possibility.
"You're wastin' time on that Jamaica nigger woman," counseled Green."That type can't stand prosperity. If she had her fingers on any o' themdollars, she wouldn't be rustin' away in the woods. I'd risk a bet thatshe's just hidin' from her past."
Once Forrester called on Mary Sturtevant during this quiescent interval,and twice met her at social functions to which both had been invited. Onthese latter occasions the girl had eluded all his efforts to be alonewith her. In fact, Forrester had a feeling that she purposely avoidedany appearance of more than a mere acquaintance with him.
He was not deceived by these eventless days. Surmising that the "Friendsof the Poor" were holding off some act of retaliation merely to lull himinto a sense of false security and thus take him off his guard,Forrester maintained a constant watchfulness of everything about him.This caution at times may have made him appear churlish; in suchinstances as a refusal to accept assistance from passing motorists whenhe had trouble with his car on the road.
Then, on Saturday, one week after the enigmatical happenings at the oaktree, the case once more presented itself with weird and bafflingadditions. Toward noon, Humphrey telephoned that he had importantinformation and would come out to "Woodmere" after business hours.Forrester extended him an invitation to dinner, coupled with anadmonition against mentioning a word regarding the matter before hismother and sister. So it was not until after dinner, when Forrester hadsummoned Green and the three men had shut themselves in the library,that Humphrey disclosed his startling information.
Forrester placed cigars on the library table, inviting the others tohelp themselves, while he filled and lighted his pipe. "Now," he said,"what is it?"
"The detectives have caught the Italians!" divulged Humphrey.
"Always them _Italians_," sneered Green. "Well, what then?"
"Yes," requested Forrester, "tell us the whole story--right from thestart."
"It begins with the photo I made last Saturday," began Humphrey. "I tookthe negative and a print to the detective bureau as I promised, andturned them over to Cahill and O'Connor. It was a wonder, too; take itfrom me! At the moment the flash went off both the detectives and thetwo Italians looked straight at the camera. O'Connor immediately spottedone of the men as Dominick Campanelli, a suspect the police have takenin half a dozen times but never could actually fasten anything on. Thatpicture of mine settled him! I showed the detective bureau this timethat it was worth while letting reporters on the inside of their cases."
"Leave out the interpolations," interrupted Forrester. "Green and I wantthe facts that concern us."
"Oh, you gotta let them reporters blow off a little steam," declaredGreen.
Humphrey glared at Green. "You detectives haven't any extra steam toblow off," he retorted. "Well, as I was about to say, Cahill andO'Connor started out to hunt for those two men in the photo. They pickedup Campanelli out in Hammond on Thursday. He had a man with him namedLuigi Licansi, who turned out to be the man that drove their car. Thedetectives kept this capture quiet until, on Friday, along in theafternoon, they found the other man in the picture--FrankTanuzzio--hanging around the very garage where the car with the bulletholes was discovered. Cahill considered that a conclusive piece ofevidence.
"At the detective bureau the men were sullen and refused to talk. Thedetectives put them through the third-degree all night without results.This morning the men were taken to the office of the State's Attorney.When he informed them that they were to be charged with being members ofthe 'Friends of the Poor,' and would probably pay the penalty for themurders committed by that band of money-gougers, these Italians werescared stiff and immediately offered to make a full confession."
"You mean," exclaimed Forrester, "that these men were not really the'Friends of the Poor,' as the detectives had supposed?"
"I should say not!" returned Humphrey. "Just low-brow_intruders_--common thieves. It was simply a case of one crook trying tosteal from another. And I want to tell you that when the facts are madepublic they'll be mighty lucky to be safe in jail."
"What've I been tellin' you, Mr. Forrester," cried Green. "Thank God,them _Italians_ will be off our minds now."
"Yes," admitted Humphrey, "you guessed right for once, Green. I've seentheir signed confession. I telephoned here as soon as I left theCriminal Court building."
"What did they say in the confession?" questioned Forrester.
"Of course, I can't remember the exact words, but the facts are aboutlike this: Reading in the newspapers that people were placing large sumsof money in that oak tree, they figured that it would be easy to slip upsome night and steal the money before the other fellows could get it. Itwas just a question of knowing what night the money would be there. Whenthey heard of your case, Mr. Forrester, these Italians decided thattheir opportunity had come and watched you night and day to find outwhen you placed the money in the tree. That _was_ their car whichfollowed you through the fog that night. Reading my article, statingthat you intended placing the money in the tree last Saturday, they madesure of the time by telephoning you Friday night."
"One telephone call accounted for," murmured Forrester.
"I frustrated the detectives' capture," continued Humphrey, "by settingoff the flashlight for my photo. It startled and blinded the detectives,so they tell me, allowing these fellows an opportunity to get away."
"Did they get my dummy package?" inquired Forrester.
"I think not," replied Humphrey. "The Italians claim not to have takenanything from the tree at any time."
Forrester stretched out his feet before him, thrust his hands deep intohis trousers pockets and smiled at the two men.
"That settles all doubt about the 'Friends of the Poor,'" he said. "Theynot only remain unknown, but probably secured my dummy package and knowthat I have fooled them. Gentlemen, kindly omit flowers."
"Ah! but here's the biggest surprise of all," exclaimed Humphrey, as hejumped out of his chair, and taking a large envelope from the tablewhere he had laid it on entering the library, drew forth a photograph.
Green and Forrester also rose and approached the library table whileHumphrey was arranging the photograph where the lamplight would fallfull upon it.
"A camera is a wonderful thing," commented Humphrey. "Astronomersdiscover stars with it that are not visible to the eye, even through apowerful telescope; and spiritualists claim to have secured photos ofspecters or ghosts or whatever they call the things that visit them. Ican believe it after seeing this photo."
"You ain't got a picture o' them ghosts, have you?" queried Green,memories of a certain gruesome night only too clearly recalled.
"Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't," returned Humphrey, non-committally,but obviously amused at Green's apprehension. "_That's_ what I'm goingto let you folks decide. There!" he added, placing a finger on thephotograph as the others bent over it. "See that black spot back of thetree? That is the shadow thrown by the tree trunk when my flashlightwent off. Naturally, anything in that shadow would not photograph well.If you look carefully, however, you can make out what appears to be aman standing a short
distance back of the tree. It looks like asilhouette, and may be only my imagination. That is why I want youropinions."
First Forrester and then Green studied the photograph.
"Well?" inquired Humphrey, at length.
"I believe you are right," acceded Forrester. "A man was evidentlyhiding behind the oak while we were there."
"I can go you one better!" asserted Green, positively. "Remember, Mr.Forrester, the man's silhouette I saw on the Prentices' lawn thatnight--the man who--"
"Yes--yes," interrupted Forrester, quickly, fearing that Green was aboutto mention the girl before Humphrey.
"_That looks like the same silhouette!_"
"And now," cried Humphrey, "I want to show you something that is evenmore puzzling. Do you happen to have a magnifying glass, Mr. Forrester?"
"Yes," said Forrester, opening the drawer in the table and taking out alarge reading glass.
"Hold the glass over the opening in the tree," instructed Humphrey. "Doyou see anything?"
Forrester adjusted the glass to different distances, while he examinedthis part of the photograph.
"Yes," he agreed, after a time, "there seems to be a thin black objectinside the opening. It may be my package."
"No," protested Humphrey. "This looks like a black rod with a bright orwhite spot near the end. Can you make it out, now that I have explainedit?"
"Yes," acknowledged Forrester, "but I cannot even make a guess at whatit can be."
"I'll bet it's a hand!" groaned Green. "I've seen it before!"
The Secret Toll Page 14
