CHAPTER XIITHEORIES ARE DANGEROUS
"What were you and Ingua talking about for so long?" asked Mary Louise,when she and Josie were alone.
"She was telling me her story," was the reply.
"All of it?"
"Every bit of it, I think."
"Oh, what was it all about?" questioned Mary Louise eagerly.
"I've promised not to tell."
"Not even me, Josie?"
"Not even you. Ingua insisted; and, really, dear, it's better youshould know nothing just at present."
"Am I to be left out of all this thrilling mystery?" demanded MaryLouise with an aggrieved air.
"There won't be a thrill in it, until the end, and perhaps not then.But you shall come in at the finish, if not before; I'll promise that."
"Won't this enforced promise to Ingua tie your hands?" queried theother girl, thoughtfully.
"No. I didn't promise not to act, but only to keep the child's secret.For Ingua's sake, as well as to satisfy your curiosity--and my own--I'mgoing to delve to the bottom of Ned Joselyn's disappearance. That willinvolve the attempt to discover all about Old Swallowtail, who is amystery all by himself. I shall call on you to help me, at times, MaryLouise, but you're not to be told what is weighing so heavily on poorIngua's mind."
"Well," said Mary Louise, "if I may help, that will serve to relieve mydisappointment to an extent. But I'm surprised at Ingua. I thought sheloved and trusted me."
"So she does," asserted Josie. "Since I've heard the story, I'm notsurprised at Ingua at all. If you knew all, my dear, you would realizewhy she believes that one confidant is enough. Indeed, I'm rathersurprised that Ingua ventured to confide in me."
"Is it so serious, then?"
"If her fears are justified," replied Josie gravely, "it is _very_serious."
"But _are_ they justified?" urged Mary Louise.
"Ingua is a child, and very sensitive to impressions. But she is ashrewd child and, living a lonely life, has had ample time to considerthe problems that confront her. Whether she is right or wrong in herconjectures, time will determine. But don't question me further,please, or you will embarrass me. To-morrow I want to go to the city,which is the county seat. Will you go with me? And can we get UncleEben to drive us over in the car?"
"I'll ask Gran'pa Jim."
Colonel Hathaway was rather amused at the efforts of the two girls tofathom the mystery of Old Swallowtail, but he was willing to assist inany practical way. So Uncle Eben drove them to the county seat next dayand Josie spent several hours in the county clerk's office and paid avisit to the chief of police, who knew her father, John O'Gorman, byreputation. Mary Louise shopped leisurely while her friend was busywith her investigations and at last they started for home, where theyarrived in time for dinner. On the way, Mary Louise inquired if Josiehad secured any information of importance.
"A little," said the girl detective. "For one thing, old Hezekiah Craggpays taxes on just one bit of land besides that little homestead ofhis. It is a five-acre tract, but the assessment puts it at anastonishingly low valuation--scarcely ten per cent of the value of allsurrounding property. That strikes me as queer. I've got the plat of itand to-morrow we will look it up."
They found it was not easy to locate that five acres, even with a map,when the two girls made the attempt the next forenoon. But finally, atthe end of a lonely lane about a mile and a half from the village, theycame upon a stony tract hemmed in by low hills, which seemed to fit thelocation described. The place was one mass of tumbled rocks. Littleherbiage of any sort grew there and its low assessment value was easilyexplained. The surrounding farms, all highly cultivated, backed up tothe little waste valley, which was fenced out--or rather in--by theowners of the fertile lands. One faintly trodden path led from the barsof the lane the girls were in toward Mr. Cragg's five acres of stones,but amid the jumble of rocks it would be difficult to walk at all.
"This is an odd freak of nature," remarked Josie, gazing at the wastewith a puzzled expression. "It is easy to understand why Mr. Cragghasn't sold this lot, as he did all his other land. No one would buyit."
"Haven't the stones a value, for building or something?" asked MaryLouise.
"Not in this location, so far from a railway. In my judgment the tractis absolutely worthless. I wonder that so economical a man as Mr. Craggpays taxes on it."
They went no farther than the edge of the rock-strewn field, for therewas nothing more to see. Up the slope of the hill, on the far side fromwhere they stood, were jumbled masses of huge slabs and boulders thatmight be picturesque but were not especially interesting. The girlsturned and retraced their steps to the neglected lane and from thencereached the main road again.
"I have now satisfied myself on two counts," was Josie's comment."First, that Mr. Cragg owns no property but this stone-yard and hislittle home, and second, that within the last forty years he has atdifferent times disposed of seventy thousand dollars worth of land lefthim by his father. The county records prove that. The last sale wasmade about four years ago, so he has consistently turned all his realestate into ready money."
"What can he have done with so much money?" exclaimed Mary Louise.
"Ah, that is part of the mystery, my dear. If he still has it, then theman is a miser. If he has lost it, he is a gambler, which is just aboutas bad. Either way, Hezekiah Cragg is not entitled to our admiration,to say the least. Let us admit that in a big city a man might loseseventy thousand dollars in business ventures without exciting adversecriticism except for a lack of judgment; but Old Swallowtail has neverleft Cragg's Crossing, according to all reports, and I'm sure there isno way for him to squander a fortune here."
"I think he must be a miser," said Mary Louise with conviction. "Inguaonce told me of seeing lots of money pass between him and Mr. Joselyn.And--tell me, Josie--what is all his voluminous correspondence about?"
"I'm going to investigate that presently," replied her friend. "Itisn't quite in line yet but will come pretty soon. To-morrow I shallcall upon Old Swallowtail at his office."
"Shall you, really? And may I go with, you, Josie?"
"Not this time. You'd spoil my excuse, you see, for you are going todischarge your sewing-girl, and your sewing-girl is going to apply toHezekiah Cragg for work. His granddaughter needs some sewing done, bythe looks of her wardrobe."
"Oh. Very well. But you will tell me what happens?"
"Of course."
"Once," said Mary Louise, "I proposed going myself to Mr. Cragg, tointercede for Ingua, but the girl thought I would do more harm thangood. So I abandoned the idea."
"I think that was wise. I don't expect to get much out of the manexcept an interview, with a chance to study him at close range. AlsoI'm anxious to see what that mysterious office looks like."
Mary Louise regarded her friend admiringly.
"You're very brave, Josie," she said.
"Pooh! There's no danger. One of the first things father taught meabout the detective business was that all men belong to one tribe, andthe criminal is inevitably a coward at heart. Old Swallowtail may beafraid of _me,_ before I'm through with this case, but whether heproves guilty or innocent I shall never fear him a particle."
"Have you any theory, as yet, Josie?"
"No. Theories are dangerous things and never should be indulged inuntil backed by facts."
"But do not theories often lead to facts? And how about those 'O'Gormantheories' you mentioned, which you were eager to test?"
"Those are mere theories of investigation--methods to be pursued incertain situations. I believe I shall be able to test some of them inthis case. My plan is to find out all I can about everyone andeverything, and then marshal my facts against the question involved. Ifthere is no answer, I've got to learn more. If I can't learn more, thenthe whole thing becomes mere guesswork--in other words, theory--morelikely to be wrong than right."
Mary Louise seldom argued with Josie's decisions. When, the nextmorning, her friend started for the village to
call upon OldSwallowtail, she pressed her hand and wished her good luck. Josiedeparted in her plain gingham dress, shoes run over at the heels, hairuntidy and uncovered by hat or hood--a general aspect of slovenlyservitude.
Mr. Cragg was never an early riser. He breakfasted at eight o'clock andat half past eight stalked with stiff dignity to town and entered hisoffice without deigning to recognize any villagers he might meet. Josiewas aware of this habit. She timed her visit for half-past ten.
Unnoticed she passed through the village street and crept up the stairsat the end of the store building. Before the door marked "H. Cragg,Real Estate" she paused to listen. No sound came from within, butfarther along the passage she heard the dull rumble of Miss Huckins'sewing machine.
For once Josie hesitated, but realizing that hesitation meant weaknesson such an errand she boldly thrust out a hand and attempted to turnthe doorknob.
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