The Secret Toll. Thorne Mabel

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СКАЧАТЬ evening that I told William he need not return. After the excitement and worry we have been through I thought it would be good for us to walk home."

      "It is not at all nice out now," said Forrester. "A heavy fog has come up. I think I would better call a taxicab."

      Forrester went to the telephone and ordered a taxicab. Then he whispered to Nevins, "May I use a phone upstairs where I can talk without being overheard?"

      "Yes," informed Nevins, "you will find a phone in Father's room."

      Forrester went upstairs and called police headquarters. He briefly explained who he was, what had occurred on his walk over, and suggested that they watch for the strange car as he returned home.

      "Leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes," instructed the man at headquarters, "and we'll be ready for you."

      After returning to the library Forrester took an occasional surreptitious look at his watch and was pleased to hear the taxi driver ring the door-bell just as the fifteen minutes expired.

      As Forrester assisted his mother down the steps he glanced hastily around. The fog was still heavy. He could make out nothing save the taxicab at the curb, but just as he was giving the address to the taxi driver he noticed a small man of slight build appear out of the fog. This man stopped quite near to him and lit a cigarette. Aside from noting the man's build and the fact that he wore a cap and had very dark hair, Forrester could make out no other details, for the man stood with his back to Forrester and the lighted match really served only to throw him out in silhouette. Forrester entered the cab and it started off. As he leaned back he reflected that the man he had seen was of too small a stature to be a detective. His act of stopping so close to them might have been mere accident, but to Forrester the thing had a significance which could not be overlooked. He was confident that this was one of the men they wanted. He hoped that the police, although not visible in the fog, had arrived as promised. If so, he felt that their problems were pretty close to a final solution.

      They reached Bellevue Place without incident. The whir of the taxicab's engine had effectually drowned any sound of pursuit and though he had glanced back several times, Forrester had been able to see nothing save a wall of fog back of the cab. Yet somewhere in that fog-draped street he was sure the murderers' car was lurking.

      There appeared to be no one around as they left the cab, but Forrester, after his mother and sister had gone into the house, lingered for a moment in the dark doorway. He could hear the hum of the taxicab's engine as it passed down the street toward the Lake Shore Drive. Otherwise the night was silent.

      Suddenly Forrester heard the roar of opened mufflers in the other direction, and the next instant two black shapes passed swiftly by through the fog. Red flashes leaped out of the darkness and sharp reports resounded through the street as they passed the door.

      "The police are on the job!" exulted Forrester.

      He hastily stepped inside and closed the door, for his army experience had shown him the danger of stray bullets.

      CHAPTER V – THE HAUNTED TREE

      Twice before he retired that night Forrester sought information from the police. By one o'clock, however, when no report had been turned in, he decided to wait until morning.

      Early Wednesday morning he called the detective bureau on the telephone to find out what the police had accomplished. The voice at the other end of the wire was apologetic.

      "We're sorry, Mr. Forrester, but the men got away from us. Had it been any other kind of a night we would have had them, sure. The fog prevented the detectives from seeing the car distinctly, so that after it turned into the Lake Shore Drive, and mingled with other cars, it was impossible to pick it up again.

      "Our men were sure that their bullets struck the car. After giving up the chase they spent half the night on the West Side trying to locate an automobile with bullet holes, but were unsuccessful."

      "Then you have made no progress at all on the case," said Forrester.

      "No, I wouldn't say that," was the reply. "We now have some fairly definite people to look for. Before the incident of last night the whole thing was a mystery that did not present a single tangible point on which to base our investigations. Now, we believe that these people are just an ordinary auto bandit gang, and we know how to take steps to look them up."

      "If anything of a hopeful nature occurs," requested Forrester, "I will appreciate it if you will call me on the telephone and let me know about it."

      "We will be glad to do that," agreed the man at headquarters. "You may expect to hear from us at any time. And in the meanwhile, we will also appreciate any further tips similar to the one you gave us last night."

      Forrester then called the garage and ordered his roadster sent around to the house.

      Although the police seemed to be trying, and were under the impression that they were making some progress, Forrester decided to make a few efforts on his own account as he had originally planned. Even if he did not get very far in his investigations, he at least might discover something that would be of assistance to the police. He had little faith in Green, yet he realized that with this private detective, the police, and himself all working along individual lines, it was possible that the sum of all their discoveries might convey some hint of the lines that must be followed to bring the criminals to justice.

      Forrester was not much impressed with Humphrey's triangulation theory. It was too far fetched and fanciful. Moreover, he realized that before putting even this surveying method into actual practice, he must first look over all the ground carefully. At the present moment, the only prominent and definite landmark in the case was the oak tree. He knew that this had already been the starting point for all the detectives who had been conducting investigations, but it was possible that because of his freedom from traditions, as Humphrey had put it, he might discover something which the more experienced detectives had overlooked. As soon as his roadster arrived, therefore, he planned to visit the oak tree in Jasper lane.

      This analyzing of Humphrey's suggestions recalled to Forrester his suspicions of the night before. He decided, before going further, to make sure of Humphrey, so he got the Times office on the wire and inquired for the reporter. He recognized the young man's voice immediately and it lifted a considerable load from his mind.

      "This is Forrester," he told Humphrey. "I called up to see if you had any new information for me."

      "Oh, hello!" called Humphrey. "No, I haven't any new tips – but say – did you see my article this morning?"

      "No," admitted Forrester, "I haven't had time to look at the paper."

      "Don't miss it!" cried Humphrey. "I'll bet I've killed any idea those fellows might have had that you would put up a fight."

      "What did you say?" queried Forrester.

      "Why, I described how I called on you last night, and stated that I found you in a blue funk. Without actually saying so, I intimated that the cold sweat was standing out in beads on your forehead and thrills of fear running up and down your spine."

      "I'm afraid," laughed Forrester, "that you have given my friends an idea that I hid in a dugout all through the war."

      "Not on your life!" protested Humphrey. "You just read that article. You'll find that I'm an artist when it comes to descriptive writing."

      "All right," agreed Forrester, "I'll read it tonight. I'm starting out now to have a look at that oak tree."

      "Good СКАЧАТЬ