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“There’s only a few houses, with an inn for summer visitors; and there’s a little covered bridge crosses the river, just like a picture on a plate. Campe was holding out at Schwartzberg, or Castle Schwartzberg, as the people of the town call it. The castle is a regular robber-baron kind of a place, with a wall around it, towers, battlements, little windows with heavy bars, and all the rest of the fixings.”
“I know it,” said Ashton-Kirk. “It was built by a German officer who came over with Baron Steuben during the Revolution. When peace came, he decided he liked the section well enough to stay. He was rich, and built Schwartzberg in the effort to get some of the color of the old land into the new.”
“It was something like that,” said Mr. Scanlon, nodding. “And the builder must have been related, in a way, to the Campes. Anyhow, they came into the castle some years ago. Well, to be invited to a place like that was not usual with me; and I felt a little swelled up about it.
“'You’ve been asked because of your qualities as a sportsman and boon companion,’ says I to myself; 'the discriminating always pick you for an ace.’
“But twenty-four hours later I had learned my true status,” said Scanlon, his brows corrugating, and his thick forefinger tapping the table. “I had been asked to Schwartzberg to act as a bodyguard, and for nothing else in the world.”
“I see,” said Ashton-Kirk.
“Mind you, the situation has never been put into plain words. In fact, it’s never even been hinted at. But things happened, queer things, with no meanings attached, and so I gradually soaked the idea up. A body-guard I was; and my job was to protect young Campe from something out among the hills.”
CHAPTER II
SHOWS HOW MATTERS STOOD AT SCHWARTZBERG
Scanlon paused for a space; he examined a loose place in the wrapper of his cigar, while Ashton-Kirk sat waiting, upon his rug, his hands clasping his knees.
“When I first grabbed at this fact,” said the big man at length, “I gave it a good looking over. But I kept still, mind you; I said no more than the folks at the castle—and they were saying nothing at all. I tackled the thing from every angle, but nothing came out of it And yet, all the time, young Campe shivered; and, somehow, I felt that he had cause to do so. I could feel the thing, whatever it was, at every turn, in every shadow, in every sound.”
“The condition of Campe probably had its effect upon you,” said Ashton-Kirk. "He communicated his state of mind to you.”
“In other words,” said Mr. Scanlon, “I was stuck full of suggestion. Well, don’t burden yourself with that notion any longer. I’ve had some brisk experiences of my own from time to time; and a man with a tobasco past don’t fall for mental influences, not even a little bit But, be that as it may, I hadn’t been at Schwartzberg five days before I, too, began to feel like putting out a hurry call for help. And now, in a little more than twice that time, I come knocking at your door and urging you to do something.”
“I get a general atmosphere of fear—of an impending something—of an invisible danger,” said Ashton-Kirk. “But there’s nothing in what you’ve told me which permits of a hand-grip, so to speak.”
“I told you,” began Scanlon, “there isn’t a single thing which—”
“I don’t expect anything definite,” said the special detective. “Give me the details of your stay at Schwartzberg. Perhaps we can draw something from those.”
“Right,” said Mr. Scanlon. “Well, as soon as I put my foot on the station platform at Marlowe Furnace, the thing began. The station man said to me:
“‘You going to Schwartzberg? ’
“‘ Yes,’ says I.
“' A party’s been asking about you,’ says he.
“‘ One of Campe’s people, I guess.’
No,’ says he. ' I know all them. The party was a stranger.’ ,
“I thought this a little queer, but I had my getting out to Campe’s place to think of; and as it was late and very dark, I said nothing more except to ask my way.
“‘ Take the road down to the river,' says the station man. ‘ Then cioss the bridge and turn to your right You’ll see a lot of lights that look as if they were hanging away up in the air. That’s the castle.’
“So, bag in hand, I starts off. It was a starry night; but there was no moon and starlight isn’t much good on a road where the tree branches meet on either side. But I was headed right, and in a little while I made out the oudines of the covered bridge.
“‘ Like a Noah’s Ark,’ says I, as I started across. Footsteps inside covered bridges on a still, dark night are apt to stir up a lot of other sounds; so when I began to hear a kind of shuffling alongside of me, I wasn’t surprised. ' An echo,’ says I, and didn’t even turn.
“But when an electric hand torch shot a little tunnel of light through the darkness and hit me in the ear, I came about, quick enough.
“‘I ask your pardon,’ says a smooth kind of a voice.
“‘ That I hand you, willingly,’ says I. ‘But, believe me, friend, you’ll have to go some to get anything else.’
“The worst of an electric torch in a dark place,” complained Mr. Scanlon, “is that the party holding it has a good slant at you; but all you can do to him is wink and look foolish. These being the conditions I didn’t lash out at the party as I felt like doing, not knowing just how he was heeled; so I waited for him to show what he had.
“‘You are on your way to Schwartzberg, I think,’ says the voice. '
“‘ On my way is right,’ says I, as confidently as I could. ‘And, stranger, I figure on arriving there all safe and with everything standing.’
“The party with the torch appeared to be tickled at this; for he began to chuckle.
“‘I’m very fortunate in meeting you,’ says he.
“‘ Fine,’ says I. ‘ I always like to find people in luck. And now, if it’s no trouble, suppose you come through with your reason for stopping me.’
“' Of course,’ says he. ‘ To be sure. I’ve a small favor to ask of you,’ he says. ‘ If you’ll be so kind, I’ll have you carry this to young Mr. Campe.’
“And like that,” here Scanlon snapped his fingers, “the light went out, and I felt the party put something into my hand.
“‘No explanation will be needed,’ says the voice, if anything a little smoother than before. ‘ What I have given you will tell its own story.’
“Then I heard the pit-pit-pat of careful feet СКАЧАТЬ