The Black Dog Mystery (12 page)

“Oh, gee, Mr. Morrison, I guess they are doing all they can,” he said eagerly, “but they won’t pay any attention to what I say! Maybe I’m the one that’s wrong, but I’d like to find out!”

“Well, you go ahead,” said Mr. Morrison encouragingly. “Maybe we can work it out together. Have you got any clues?”

“Well, not exactly,” Djuna confessed, a little sheepishly. “But—well, look, Mr. Morrison, would you like to know what I think, honest?”

“I certainly would,” said Mr. Morrison, smiling at Djuna’s eagerness. “I don’t know anything about police methods myself, but I’ve heard that the police are inclined to be a little slow at times. Have you worked out a theory?”

“Well, this is what happened,” said Djuna eagerly. “When their car—the robbers’ car, I mean—stopped in front of the bank, I was just on the other side of the street, and one of them saw me looking at him. And he sort of made a sign to me to come over, so I walked over to see what he wanted, and he said they wanted to know if that was the road to Canada. So I told him they could get to the Canada road that way, but they would have to go to Grandville first, and turn north there.”

“That’s the road that goes through Clinton?” asked Mr. Morrison. “I’ve never been over there.”

“Yes, sir, that’s the one,” said Djuna. “It’s the one where you let us off, remember? Well, I was sort of scared, because he looked sort of funny; he didn’t look like a nice man at all. I never saw anybody like him before.”

“A tough-looking customer, was he?” said Mr. Morrison. “Was he the only man in the car?”

“No, sir, there were two other men,” said Djuna, “but I didn’t get a look at them, because they had their backs to me and they were looking the other way.”

“That’s rather a pity,” said Mr. Morrison. “If you’d only got a look at them, that would probably have been a help to the police. However, I’m sure
I
wouldn’t have been any more observing, if I’d been there myself. Then what happened?”

“Well, then, just after I went back and was talking to Tommy, two of them got out and went into the bank, but I wasn’t paying any attention right then,” said Djuna. “And the next thing
we
knew, they came out and ran right into that nice old dog, and shot him, and then Champ chased them, but they got away.”

“Well!” exclaimed Mr. Morrison, looking puzzled. “That’s not much to go on, is it? I’m sorry, Djuna, but I don’t see much chance that they’ll ever catch those fellows. You tell me that one of them spoke to you, and I suppose you can remember what he looks like, but, after all, he didn’t say anything to you, except to ask you the road to Canada, did he? There’s no clue in that, I’m afraid.”

“But don’t you see?” asked Djuna eagerly. “That’s the very thing that made me start thinking about it! What would he want to tell anybody they were going to Canada for? That would just make everybody look for them on that road, don’t you see? And I don’t believe they would wait till they got right to the bank, before they planned where they were going to go! No, sir, they must have figured it all out first, long before the robbery, so they would know
exactly
where to go! They wouldn’t have dared to get
into
a town without finding out first how to get
out
of it the very fastest way. Yes, sir, they
must
have thought it all out before they ever came to Clinton. They couldn’t just take a chance on finding the right road, at the last minute!”

“Do you think not?” asked Mr. Morrison doubtfully. “Criminals are pretty stupid, after all, they say. But, still, no matter whether they were stupid or not, there’s one thing certain—they did actually get away!”

“Yes,” said Djuna triumphantly, “but they didn’t go to Canada!”

Mr. Morrison stared at him. “What do you mean?” he ejaculated. “What makes you think
that?”

“Because I’ve proved it!” said Djuna eagerly. “I worked it out, and I’m sure they didn’t!”

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Mr. Morrison, staring at Djuna in astonishment. “What makes you think so? Has somebody seen them? Have you seen them?”

Djuna shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen them,” he said, “but I’m just as sure as I can be. Do you know what I did?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” admitted Mr. Morrison. “But I’d certainly like to know!”

“Well, I borrowed Tommy Williams’s bicycle,” Djuna went on, lowering his voice and leaning confidentially closer to Mr. Morrison, “and I went over to Clinton and went out on that Grandville road and I
measured
it! And they couldn’t possibly have gone that way!”

Mr. Morrison’s mouth popped open. “Measured it!” he exclaimed. “What on earth did you do that for?”

“There wasn’t any other way to find out,” said Djuna simply. “You see, first I asked the policeman that chased them on his motorcycle and he told me they had two minutes’ head start on them. I don’t believe it was really as much as that, but that’s what he said. So if the car was going a mile a minute, it wouldn’t have gone more than two miles from Clinton by the time the cops started after them—maybe less than two miles. I wanted to measure off the two miles, and see if there were any side roads where they could have turned off.”

“I see,” said Morrison thoughtfully. “And what did you find out?”

“As soon as I got to the top of the hill—there’s a hill, you know, right on the edge of Clinton, and the road goes over it—I could see I was right,” said Djuna eagerly. “You can see much farther than two miles, from the top of the hill, along the road. It’s all flat country, and the road doesn’t curve any. So if the policemen got there, and the robbers hadn’t turned off any side road, they would still be in sight. But the policeman had told me they never saw the car at all, so then I was
sure
it had turned off on some side road!”

“H-m!” said Morrison. “That’s pretty good thinking! Did you go any farther?”

“Yes, sir,” said Djuna, “I went all the way to the side road that turns off to join the Canada road, north of Grandville, because the police said that was where the robbers must have gone. That’s almost five miles from Clinton. But they
didn’t
go that way, and do you know why? Because that road was still muddy in spots, from the rain the day before, and there weren’t any tire tracks there at all!”

Mr. Morrison nodded thoughtfully. “I should say that’s pretty positive proof!” he exclaimed admiringly. “And very good reasoning, indeed! What did you do next?”

“I rode back again, looking for other side roads,” said Djuna. “There’s only one. That’s the one that’s just a mile from Clinton, at the foot of the hill. So that’s pretty plain, isn’t it, Mr. Morrison? They would have had plenty of time to turn off down that road, before the police ever got to the top of the hill!”

Mr. Morrison stared at him. “Well, by George!” he exclaimed. “You certainly seem to have hit the nail on the head! And where does that side road go?”

“It goes through the woods until it meets the road that goes to Riverton,” answered Djuna, flushing with pleasure at Mr. Morrison’s praise. “And I’ll bet that’s the way they went! Don’t you think so, Mr. Morrison?”

“Why, certainly!” exclaimed Mr. Morrison. “Just as you say, where else could they possibly have gone? You’ve told the police, haven’t you?”

“Well, that’s just the trouble,” said Djuna resentfully. “I went back right away as soon as I’d found that road, and tried to tell Captain Crackle about it, and he just laughed at me. He wouldn’t give me a chance to tell him!”

“He sounds pretty stupid,” said Mr. Morrison indignantly. “He might at least have listened to what you had to say. Well, you’ve done the best you could, or that anybody could, for that matter. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you’re a mighty smart boy! It’s a pity that the Clinton police don’t appreciate it.”

Djuna blushed with pleasure. “Aw, that wasn’t anything,” he mumbled. “Anyway, I don’t think Captain Crackle could do anything about hunting for them, now. But I don’t know what to do next, exactly. Seems to me I ought to tell the police over at Riverton about it, only I don’t know how I could get there, and I guess they wouldn’t listen to me, either, if I did get there.”

“Do you think anything would be gained by that?” asked Mr. Morrison, doubtfully. “You don’t think the robbers stopped when they got to Riverton, do you? I should think they would have driven right on through.”

“Well, I suppose they did,” Djuna agreed. “But don’t you think it would be worth while looking for them, anyway? Seems to me they ought to check up on every automobile in Riverton, just to make sure.”

“But how
could
they?” exclaimed Mr. Morrison. “Did anybody see the license plates?”

“No, but all they would have to do would be to look for a black Catapult Gearmaster. I told Captain Crackle about the dent in the fender, and things like that. They could find it, all right.”

“Oh, you got a really good look at it, then?” said Mr. Morrison, his look of admiration deepening. “I say! You certainly didn’t miss a trick! Well, in that case, there might be some chance of finding the car. But don’t you think they would have kept right on driving, to get as far away as they could?”

“They might have,” admitted Djuna. “But if they didn’t, they’re either in Riverton still, or else they got on some train there, and left their car behind. Even if they were gone, it ought to help to find the car, I should think.”

“It certainly would!” agreed Mr. Morrison, enthusiastically. “By George, if those fellows are ever caught, they’ll have
you
to thank for it!”

“Gee, I haven’t done anything, yet,” muttered Djuna, both pleased and embarrassed by the praise. “I’m just trying to think what to do next.”

“Well, what do you say we fish a while and see if we can’t think up something?” said Mr. Morrison, smiling. “Two heads are better than one, they say. Let’s try our luck.”

They baited their hooks and fished for a while in silence, while the two boats drifted side by side. Mr. Morrison hummed a tune under his breath. Champ snoozed, with his chin on his paws.

“Gee, I wish I could go over to Riverton!” said Djuna suddenly. “Somebody just ought to go and tell the police!”

Mr. Morrison looked around. “That’s just what I’ve been thinking, too,” he said. “Would you like me to go over there and tell them what you’ve told me? I’d be glad to do that, if you’d like me to.”

“Oh, that would be fine!” exclaimed Djuna. “Are you going today, Mr. Morrison?”

“Well, I hadn’t intended going that soon,” he answered. “I’m not starting home till Saturday, but when I get to Riverton I can stop and see them. How would that suit you?”

Djuna looked disappointed. “Gee, that might be too late,” he said. “Maybe I can get Mr. Pindler to take me over. He goes over there sometimes.”

“Well, now, let me think it over,” said Mr. Morrison, slowly. “I want to help you all I can, you know. Yes, I guess it might be better if I made a special trip over there this afternoon. I’ll come over and tell you what they say, when I get home. Is that a go?”

“Oh, gee, that will be wonderful!” said Djuna eagerly.

Mr. Morrison glanced around as he prepared to throw in his line again. “Say, haven’t we drifted a good way?” he asked. “Is there a current in this pond?”

“There’s just a little bit of one, I guess,” said Djuna. He pointed toward the shore. “See those posts over there? That’s where the dam is, and there’s a wooden gate in it, and it leaks through a little, but not much.”

“Yes, I can see it now,” said Mr. Morrison, watching his cork float slowly in the direction of the dam. “How deep is this pond, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Djuna. “It’s ’way over my head, I guess. But there’s so many weeds you can’t see the bottom.”

“It doesn’t look like a very good place to swim,” said Mr. Morrison, peering over the side of the boat. “But,” he chuckled, “I can’t swim anyway. You do, of course, don’t you?”

“Oh, not very well,” said Djuna modestly. If Mr. Morrison couldn’t swim, he didn’t think he ought to brag about his own swimming.

“How about Champ?” asked Mr. Morrison. “He’s a good swimmer, isn’t he?”

“Oh, he isn’t any good at all,” laughed Djuna. “His legs are too short. He won’t go into the water at all.”

Djuna and Mr. Morrison went on throwing their fishing-lines out over the water, but still neither one of them felt any fish nibbling at the hook. Little by little the boats drifted, side by side, farther from shore, until they were well out in the middle of the pond, where the water was deepest.

Suddenly Mr. Morrison exclaimed in an excited voice, “I’ve got one!” Djuna hastily pulled in his own line and turned to look, and Champ barked.

Mr. Morrison was so excited that he jumped to his feet and stepped over the seat he had been sitting on, and began to walk toward the other end of the boat. His line was on the opposite side from Djuna, and he had his back toward Djuna, keeping his eyes fixed on the line.

“Gee, reel in your line!” shouted Djuna. “He’s coming this way! Your line’s slack!”

Mr. Morrison jumped about in his excitement. “Look out!” cried Djuna, anxiously. “You’ll upset!”

But instead of sitting down, as he should have, Mr. Morrison took an awkward step backwards. His heel hit the side of the boat and he started to fall over backwards. Wildly trying to get his balance, his other foot landed in Djuna’s boat and his whole weight rested on the side of it. The boat tipped instantly. Man, boy, and dog hit the water with a splash as the boat turned over.

S
UDDEN AS
it was, Djuna was not frightened in the least. He could swim like a fish, and although he sank under the surface, a quick stroke or two brought his head above water like a cork. He shook the water out of his eyes and looked around. Champ was paddling furiously, the tip of his black nose just above water, and was gamely trying to get to the other boat, which the splash had sent drifting several feet away. Djuna knew that Champ wouldn’t be able to climb into the boat, even if he reached it, and so he at once started to swim after him.

But at the same instant Mr. Morrison’s head popped out of the water and he began wildly kicking and struggling, lashing his arms about in all directions. He saw Djuna, just out of arm’s reach, and clutched wildly at him. Djuna realized that if Mr. Morrison should ever succeed in gripping him, he would drag them both down. Instantly Djuna dived downward.