“But if it was Barry, where do you suppose he was going at this time of night?” Ronald pondered.
“Maybe to the village to telephone,” suggested Ted, recalling the phony Mr. Knight’s similar mission in the afternoon.
“Well, could be,” said Ronald, disgruntled. “I keep forgetting this confounded lodge doesn’t have a telephone. I never appreciated the value of telephone service so much as today. The simple life is all right, but this is getting ridiculous. Oh, by the way, Ted, the room had only a single bed, so I don’t think there were two men in there. Well, I guess that’s it for tonight, Ted. Tomorrow’s another day.”
Ted was an early riser, and was out with his skis before breakfast. When he returned, to find Ronald getting up, he had something to report.
“I think whoever’s in the northeast room has come back. I went past that way deliberately, and I thought I heard a little noise inside, and then when I went outside I found some fresh footprints by the back stairs.”
“How fresh?” asked Ronald with a yawn.
“They looked to me as if they’d just been made this morning. It didn’t snow during the night, but there was some wind, and the older prints are a little blown over.”
“Did you try to see where they led?”
“I couldn’t. They joined a path a little farther on, and were too confused to follow.”
“Well, if our friend Barry Knight went out to telephone, it must have been a long conversation. How’s breakfast coming? Until I’ve had my coffee I don’t care what happened to Barry or Desmond or General Custer.”
“You’ve got about ten minutes,” Ted informed him, consulting his wrist watch. “I guess almost everybody’s downstairs already except Mr. Knight.”
“He wouldn’t be,” said Ronald in some disgust. “I’m getting tired of calling him Mr. Knight when we know he isn’t, but I think we’d better keep up the pretense even between ourselves.”
“Are you going to try to see Barry Knight this morning?” Ted wanted to know.
“I doubt if I’ll get a chance. I don’t dare try it if anybody’s around, and I think there will be. I’ve got a feeling that Mr. Knight will be dogging my every step, all in the friendliest, most innocent fashion, afraid that we might find out something that he doesn’t know. I think I’ll wait until tonight and try again, and if that doesn’t do it I’ll have to think of something else.”
“If it is Barry Knight in that room, do you think anybody knows about him?”
“Hank Hudson and his wife would have to know, of course. Since they’re covering up for him, they must have a pretty good idea what’s going on. Hold on a minute, though. If it is Barry Knight, Hank doesn’t know him by that name. He thought Mr. Knight was our uncle and spoke to me about inviting him up here next winter. Surely if he had a Mr. Knight downstairs, and another Mr. Knight upstairs, he would have put two and two together.”
“Unless he was playing it smart and was trying to worm a little extra information out of you.”
“There’s always another angle, isn’t there? But no, I don’t think so. If he thought there was skullduggery going on, his best bet would be to sit tight and say nothing. If he was in Barry Knight’s confidence, he would play it the way Barry wanted, and I don’t think Barry would want him to say anything that might arouse suspicion. The way I see it, if Barry Knight is in the northeast room, he’s there under a different name.”
“If there is such a person as Barry Knight,” said Ted with a grin.
When they went outside after breakfast, the fresh air felt good, and the smell of firs brought a welcome tang to their nostrils. The wet snow was heavy and clinging, though, and made for slow going. They walked westward toward the village, until it came into view just beyond a low rim of hills. They did not go all the way, however, but retraced their steps, taking their time.
“There’s something you can do if you want to, Ted. You mentioned that there were a number of abandoned cabins around here. If you go out with your skis today, why don’t you try to see how many cabins you can find within a reasonable distance? We know that the lodger in the northeast room spent the night somewhere, and I’d like to have some idea where.”
“Then you don’t think he went down to the village?”
“I don’t think so. I suppose he could have taken a room for the night down there, but why should he when he had a room at the lodge? If he had some little mission in the village, he could have completed it and come back. I’ve a feeling that he went somewhere else, and for some reason more important than just a whim.”
Ronald had been correct about Mr. Knight dogging his trail. After they left the lodge, the man had come out and kept them in view, even though the heavy walking was more of an ordeal to him. Very likely he was relieved when they turned back, and was all smiles when he came up to them as they approached the lodge.
“Just getting a breath of air myself,” he told them. “You appreciate the clear, cool air right out of the hills, after being cooped up in dirty, smoky cities.”
However, he didn’t appreciate the clear air enough to stay out in it after they went inside. He was right behind them as they went into the cloakroom just inside the rear entrance. Ronald had come in to stay, but Ted was there only long enough to pick up his skis before proceeding on his mission.
“I want to be here when the new guests arrive,” Ronald said to him in a low voice when they had a moment alone together. “There’s no telling when that blasted Toonerville Trolley of a bus will get here, and I want to see if Mr. Knight’s telephone call produces any new visitors for us.”
Ted smiled, having learned from long experience that inactivity was always an irritation to his older brother.
“O.K., Ron, I’ll see what I can do about the cabins. I’d rather be out on the open hills than sitting around waiting all morning. Is that what you’re going to do?”
“I suppose so,” said Ronald resignedly. “I’ll be listening to Mr. Knight ramble, and he’ll be watching me, and I’ll be watching him, and neither of us will get anywhere—at least until the bus comes. I don’t know why I’m putting so much confidence in that bus, but I’ve got a hunch it’s going to bring some new development—if it ever gets here.”
“Maybe I’ll be back by that time, noon at the latest,” Ted promised. “So long—see you.”
“Don’t break your neck,” said Ronald gloomily.
Ronald’s prophecy proved accurate, and Mr. Knight did attach himself closely to him throughout most of the morning. Fortunately the bus was early that day, the passengers apparently less willing to put up with the driver’s frequent delays. Ted also had returned just before the bus’s arrival, and was at Ronald’s side when the new guests came in. At sight of the first guest, he clutched Ronald’s arm.
“That man,” he said in a whisper, making sure that Mr. Knight, who was standing a little distance away, could not overhear, “is the same man who was on the train with me, the one I think went through my suitcase.”
“Which man do you mean?”
“The heavier man.”
“He’s the one? Well, I know who the other man is, the tall one with the slight mustache. He’s Marv Lister, the gossip columnist, and I can tell you it would take something pretty big to bring him up here.”
CHAPTER 15
Mr. Bogus and the Birds
The newcomers crossed the room directly to the desk. Though they passed only a few feet away, they did not look at Ronald or his brother, but Ronald—perhaps because he was looking for it—thought they exchanged quick glances with Mr. Knight.
Hank left the desk to show them up to their rooms. A few minutes later Mr. Knight, his thoughts seemingly occupied with something far, far away, also strolled out of the room. Being already convinced that Mr. Knight and the man on the train were both tied up with Uglancie, Ronald hardly needed this further proof of his theory. The gossip columnist, Marv Lister, was something new in the picture, though, and Ronald wondered just how he fitted in.<
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When Hank returned to the desk, Ronald sauntered over to him.
“Wasn’t that Marv Lister, the newspaper columnist?” he inquired.
“Yes,” Hank answered, with seeming pride that his lodge might be due for some publicity, “he’s the one. You two ought to get acquainted. You’re a newspaperman yourself, aren’t you?”
Since Ronald had already dropped some hint to this effect, he was quick to admit it. “I’ve already met Mr. Lister, but he appears to have forgotten. As long as that’s the way it is, I’d prefer not to be remembered to him.”
The conversation continued for a few minutes longer, but either Hank didn’t know why Marv Lister was there, or else he wasn’t saying. Ronald felt inclined to believe that the coming of the famous columnist was as much of a surprise to Hank as it was to him.
“Hope he puts a little item in his column about this place,” said Hank eagerly. “A little thing like that would shoot trade way up, maybe make me add on a new wing.”
“Provided he said something good,” Ronald reminded him.
“Oh, it would have to be good, wouldn’t it?” said Hank anxiously. “I’ve got a nice little place here—good food, clean, pleasant surroundings, and Lister’s going to get the best service you ever heard of. This is one of the best locations I know of for winter sports when it gets fully developed. Ought to have an artificial ice pond to use when the weather betrays us, and we could put up a toboggan slide, maybe even a ski lift.”
“And a little better transportation to get here,” Ronald put in.
“Well, yes, it is a little awkward. We’re not readily accessible by air, which cuts down our business considerably. Maybe the railroad would build a spur, or we could put on a few extra busses. We don’t get much private automobile trade because most people don’t like to drive this far in winter. I always thought our isolation was a point in our favor, but of course things would be different if we went big time.”
All this because of the possibility of getting a small item in a syndicated column, Ronald thought, and decided that Hank had a pretty good thing the way it was, and would be better advised to leave it that way. If the big-time operators came in, he was likely to find himself squeezed out.
“I didn’t recognize the other man with Lister. May I ask his name?”
“It’s Marty Grossen. He didn’t state his business, but I figured he was Lister’s assistant.”
More likely a bodyguard to judge by appearances, Ronald thought. He was a burly sort of fellow who looked as if he never read a newspaper beyond the comics and the sports.
Returning to the bench where Ted was sitting, Ronald said, “It was Lister, of course, and the man with him is named Marty Grossen. I don’t think there’s any question that he’s one of Uglancie’s men.”
“I wonder if he wasn’t afraid I’d recognize him as the man on the train?”
“Maybe he didn’t know; maybe he didn’t care. Coming out in the open as they’re doing now, it looks to me like they’re ready to blow things wide open.”
“Does Marv Lister know you?”
“He should. At least twice we’ve been present in the same group, once at a political meeting and once at a reception for members of the press. I think he recognized me, all right, even though I represent the opposition paper. Besides which, Mr. Knight must have told him all about me. Since he isn’t trying to hide his own identity, he must have decided that I’m not important enough to notice.”
Ronald smarted a little under the rebuff, for he knew that Lister was at the top of the newspaper heap while he himself was close to the bottom. Not that he envied Lister’s reputation. Quite the contrary. It was the sort of reputation he hoped never to acquire for himself.
“We can’t be sure that Lister and Grossen are working together,” said Ted carefully. “Maybe they only became acquainted on the way up here.”
“No, Ted, they look to me like two of a kind. Besides, Lister must be up here on a big story, and we’ve got a pretty good idea what that story is. I’m just beginning to get an inkling of what they’ve got in mind.”
Ted was giving Ronald his fullest attention.
“I remember something Uglancie said to me,” Ronald began slowly. “He said something about when somebody hits him, he hits back. As I understand it, he never wants to start trouble, but if somebody hits him with a fist, he hits back with a fist; if somebody shoots at him with a gun, he shoots back with a gun. In other words, he gives back exactly what he gets.
“Now what did he get from Barry Knight? Some unfavorable newspaper publicity. So what would be his best method of striking back? Why not with some unfavorable newspaper publicity? You could see what that would do to Barry. If Barry intended an exposure, then Uglancie would expose him instead. If he could succeed in getting Barry discredited in the eyes of the public, that would automatically help to discredit anything that Barry might write about him. It’s the old rule of chess, that counterattack is often the best defense. Uglancie intends to counterattack and pull no punches, and he wants to use Lister’s gossip column as his method of attack.
“I don’t know whether you know very much about Lister’s methods, but his reputation in newspaper circles is rather unsavory. It’s said of him that he will publish anything in his column for a price. I’ve heard enough to believe it’s true that Lister accepts pay for putting certain items in his column. Look how anxious Hank is to get some little mention in Lister’s column, and how much good he thinks it would do him. Believe me, there are some people who would pay plenty to get a write-up there, and I can wager that Lister’s price comes high.
“Of course, there has to be some limitation. Anything Lister writes has to be true, or at least basically true, although he may add his own insinuations. If he printed things that weren’t true, he’d soon find himself so bogged down in libel suits that he’d have to close up shop. Truth alone isn’t a complete defense against a libel suit, but it’s a pretty good defense, and I think that as long as what he says is true he’s willing to take a chance.
“And that’s very much what I think Uglancie has hired him to do: to print the truth about Barry Knight.”
“And what is the truth about Barry Knight?” Ted questioned.
“I don’t know,” said Ronald, looking very worried. “That’s the thing that bothers me. I still don’t know whether there is such a person as Barry Knight, and certainly he’s gone to some pains to cover up certain items in his background. Besides that, I don’t know what Barry Knight is doing up here. Whatever it is, I hope it isn’t anything that’s going to sound too disreputable when it gets splashed all over Lister’s column, which is almost certain to happen. That was what Barry Knight was afraid of all the time, and the thing that made him leave town perhaps for good.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Ted.
Ronald consulted his watch. “It’s just about time for dinner now. Afterward, if you’re still keen about some skiing, I can’t think of anything better for you to do than to follow up that mission I gave you this morning. I’d like to know where all the cabins around here are located, whether anyone’s living in them, whether they look as if someone had been living in them recently, or if they could be lived in if necessary.”
“Something cooking?” asked Ted knowingly.
“At least it’s on the fire, but I don’t know when it’ll come to a boil. How are you doing on the skiing? How many maneuvers have you mastered?”
“Oh, quite a few, but mostly the ones I invented myself.”
All the guests except the lodger in the northeast room were present at the dinner table. Lister’s voice was loud, and he generally managed to drown out less vigorous competition. He didn’t mind letting everybody know who he was, assumed that they recognized the name as a matter of course, and went on to tell of some of his experiences. Whether he knew it or not—and he probably did—the whole theme of his talk was what a big, important person Marv Lister was.
None of his remarks
were addressed to Ronald, nor did he offer any indication of recognition. His companion, Marty Grossen, meanwhile, had hardly a word for anyone, but sat sullenly and ill at ease. Mr. Knight, too, was unusually quiet, apparently afraid of betraying by any sign that he was acquainted with Lister and Grossen.
After the meal was over, Ronald engaged in a pleasant little game, or rather two little games. Mr. Knight was as anxious as usual to stay close to Ronald and keep track of what he was doing. But with Lister and Grossen the game was just the opposite, and they seemed eager to avoid Ronald. When he came into the room, they found an excuse soon afterward to leave, and after this had happened several times in succession there could be no doubt it was intentional. Actually, Ronald couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to, too, but decided it was probably nothing just then. Everybody was marking time, though for just what development Ronald didn’t know. His own plan remained to try to arrange a private interview with Barry Knight, but that was beginning to seem more difficult now that he had three men to watch out for instead of just one.
Hank seemed much less cheerful the next time Ronald talked to him. Ronald guessed that Hank had been talking to Barry Knight, who had probably told him the newspaper columnist wasn’t up here just for a vacation. Not only had Hank’s air castles collapsed with a bang, but he realized that he now faced more difficult problems than he did before. However, Ronald was fully convinced that Hank would be on his and Barry’s side if any trouble should develop, and that was a matter for satisfaction.
It was shortly after the afternoon supply wagon had come up from the village that Hank called Ronald over to his desk.
“I just got word, Wilford, that there’s a long-distance call waiting for you down at the village.”
“O.K., thanks. Where do I take it?”
“In the drugstore. There’s only one. You can’t miss it.”
Ronald hesitated. Since he felt sure he and Hank were on the same side, mightn’t it be a good thing to confide in each other? He felt that both he and Hank had only part of the picture, but if they had a better idea of what was going on maybe they could work something out between them. It was hard to believe that Barry Knight’s situation was completely hopeless. Might not Hank at least be willing to arrange a secret interview between Ronald and Barry? Apparently Barry had been avoiding Ronald as much as he had anyone, but now that he was faced with the greater danger posed by the presence of Lister and Grossen, mightn’t he decide to turn to Ronald for help?
The Star Reporter Mystery Page 12
