Jimmy was about to hang up the receiver, when Hite's harsh growl cut in:

"Wait a minute, Jimmy. I was listening in. You gave me an idea. We can and will, of course, verify these two deaths, but it would be swell if Professor Brierly were here. Could you persuade him to come down here to give us the benefit of his experience and advice?"

"I don't know, chief. He's a crochety old gent, you know, and he has notions about things. He might take the notion that it is not fitting or pleasant or convenient to go. He might think--oh, he might think anything."

"Yes, Jimmy, I know something about the peppery old gent. But you stand pretty strong with him. See if you can persuade him. I'm going to take it for granted that he'll come. Will he object to riding in a plane?"

"Who, Professor Brierly? Don't make me laugh, chief. There isn't a thing on, above or beneath the earth that he's afraid of. If he decides to come he'll want to come the quickest way possible."

"All right then, Jimmy. I'll charter a plane by wire. If he consents to come there will be a plane ready for him in the airport most convenient to his camp, wherever that is, or right on the lake. Step on it, Jimmy."

Jimmy thought of using the telephone, decided against it. It might take some diplomatic finesse to persuade the old scientist to hire himself out to a newspaper. He might feel it degrading and cheapening to do such a thing.

On the way to the camp, Jimmy's moods were reflected in his features by alternate smiles and frowns as he pictured the manner in which his office would be received.

By the time he reached the camp he decided against using any cheap trickery to accomplish his purpose. He held Professor Brierly in too much esteem to attempt such a thing. He made up his mind that forthright frankness would serve his purpose best. He was delighted and surprised at the ease with which his errand was accomplished.

Professor Brierly consented to make the trip without hesitation.

He did balk at first about accepting the plane at the expense of Jimmy's paper, but he was persuaded that it was ethical in the highest degree to do so. Jimmy clinched this argument by saying that if Professor Brierly refused to do it for the paper, Hite would perhaps engage one of the charlatans or pseudo-scientists, against whom the old savant was in the habit of raving.

At this moment there came from the direction of the lake the deafening roar of an airplane motor, which diminished as it came nearer. Looking out they saw an amphibian taxi to within a few yards of the wharf. Hite had not wasted time. The plane was there to take Professor Brierly to New York.

Jimmy decided to call it a day. His long drive from New York and the strenuous day just past, broken only by a few hours' sleep, told even on his robust const.i.tution. Besides, there was nothing further to do that afternoon. Hite had indicated that when Jimmy's fresh news was put on the presses the staff would quit for the day.

He was in Lentone bright and early the following morning. A short visit to the home of the late Morris Miller followed by a visit to the police, gave him very little for a new lead to the story. He ruefully told himself that the news was probably where Professor Brierly was. He telephoned to his paper.

Hite's voice had a tremor that showed he came as near laughing as he ever got.

"Great little guy that professor of yours, Jimmy. My, oh my, what a newspaper man he would have made. Is he always that way, Jimmy?"

"What did he do, chief?"

"What did he do? For one thing he came as near getting me fired from this job as I ever got. He snarled and growled at me. He told the managing editor that he was an ignoramus and the M.E., believe it or not, took it, took it like a little lamb, Jimmy. Dije ever hear anybody call the M.E. an idiot and get away with it?

"He told Mr. Conway, the boss, that he was a charlatan; that he was running a yellow sheet; that he had the ethics of a hyena; that he was pandering to the worst pa.s.sions of the ignorant mob and a few other choice things.

"He set the police commissioner's office on its collective ear and drove the medical examiners crazy. What he said to them should be preserved as a method of raising blisters on a man's skin with language and done in good English.

"He did say one nice thing about one human being. He said that one James Hale, Esq., was not so bad--for a newspaper man. Now don't get swelled up over this like a poisoned pup, Jimmy, or I'll have you killed. The price quoted for murdering a newspaper man is very low.

"But Jimmy, he gave us a swell new lead on the story. Schurman was murdered. Everybody here said he had committed suicide. As for Wrigley, that appears to have been an honest drowning. He was really drowned. We're looking it up just the same, but we have the old bird's word for it that he died by drowning. Say, Jimmy doesn't that bird ever sleep. He was busy as a bee all night. He left here about five this morning and may be up there already for all I know. When he left he was as chipper and fresh and full of pep as--well words fail me, Jimmy.

"He says he's going right up to the camp of Justice Higginbotham.

Jimmy, I'd give a leg if I could have had a stenographic report of his speeches while he was here and a picture of the individuals at whom those speeches were fired.

"S'long, Jimmy, remember we're runnin' a daily paper and not a quarterly." This was. .h.i.te's usual formula.

Jimmy now decided to charter a swift motor boat. Professor Brierly's camp and Justice Higginbotham's camp were both a considerable distance off the main road. A swift motor boat, with a competent man to handle it, would transport him from Lentone to either or both camps in less time than would a motor car.

Getting a motor boat was not as easy as he had antic.i.p.ated. He learned that a sudden demand within the past twenty-four hours had apparently exhausted all the available craft that were for hire.

Something that one of the boatmen let drop gave him an inkling of the reason for this. The correspondents who were pouring into Newport had reached the same conclusion as he and had forestalled him. He also learned that every available motor car had been hired within the past few hours.

Foreseeing the possibility of being on the story for some time, he set out with the idea that if he could not charter a boat he would buy one. He felt that the expense would be justified and he was certain the powers that be on his paper would approve such a step; they were not n.i.g.g.ardly in the matter of expenses.

After a protracted search he found a youngster of eighteen, Harry Stoy, who was not only willing to sell him his sea sled, but was also willing to hire out as the boat's crew. Harry was a fine upstanding youngster, who knew motor boats and who knew the lake and surrounding country. When Harry learned that the man to whom he sold the boat was a newspaper man on a big murder story, he stopped bargaining and entered the chase with nearly the same amount of enthusiasm as that shown by the reporter himself.

Jimmy opened his eyes wide with astonishment when Harry took him to Justice Higginbotham's camp. Boats were tied to the small wharf. Boats were moored to every available spot on the sh.o.r.e. For hundreds of yards about the wharf boats were anch.o.r.ed. Not since he had seen a regatta had Jimmy seen so many boats in one place at the same time.

When he stepped to the wharf and thence to the wide porch, he understood the cause of this. As he had seen at the telegraph office and the public telephone booths, Justice Higginbotham's camp was now a magnet for all the newspapers and press services in the United States and Canada. Near the wharf he recognized the plane that had transported Professor Brierly to New York.

Chapter VIII

Jimmy recognized several of the men and women on the porch as reporters and feature writers. These, knowing that Jimmy's paper was the one that sprung the story, made a concerted rush for him.

He fended them off. He told them that beyond what had been printed he knew nothing. Asked about Professor Brierly, he told them that he had not seen the old scientist for more than fifteen hours; that his paper in New York had handled that end. He a.s.sured them that beyond the bare announcement over the phone that Schurman had been murdered, he knew nothing new.

At this moment the grizzled negro came to the door of the porch and gestured to Jimmy. He said to the reporter when Jimmy came near him:

"The jedge, Mistuh Hale, sez for you--all to come in an' see him and the otheh gempmen."

Aside from the eleven men he had first met the day before, there were in the big, comfortable living-room, Professor Brierly and District Attorney McCall. He felt and saw that all of them were looking at him.

He was shocked at the appearance of some of the men. They seemed to have shrunken in size. There was a furtive air about some of them; stark fear, fear of the unknown danger, shone in the eyes of a number of the men present.

"Mr. Hale, it is not your fault, but you are indirectly responsible for the presence of all those men and women out there.

It is a very distressing thing. Newspapers have their place and uses, of course; we all recognize that, but we cannot at a time like this be besieged by a horde of men and women, not all of whom, I regret to say, have the delicacy to show the kindness and consideration--"

"I get you, Judge. The thing to do, of course, is to tell them that you will issue periodic announcements about the developments in the case. They will all understand that, I am sure, and respect your wishes for privacy at other times."

"Yes, of course, that is the simple, the obvious thing to do. Will you act for us, Mr. Hale. Tell them--"

"Sorry, Judge, I should like to act in this capacity. But I also am a newspaper man out on a story and I should be in a false position. I can help you with advice, but that is as far as I dare, as far as I can go in such a matter. I can a.s.sure you that everything you tell me in confidence will not be printed without your permission. Your comrades here who know me, Judge, will vouch for me, perhaps."

Marshall, McGuire and Fletcher nodded.

Mr. Marshall, at Jimmy's suggestion, went out to the porch and told the a.s.sembled newspaper men of the decision they had reached concerning the issuing of statements for the press. When he returned, Professor Brierly said:

"In this case, Hale, how will you treat information that you acquire through your contact with me. Would it be honorable--"

"I've thought of that, Professor. I shall not use any information I get through my living at your camp that all the others are not permitted to use. This, of course, does not apply to matters that I would have learned without knowing Professor Brierly."

Some of the men present wrinkled their brows in perplexity. They had difficulty following such a nice point of ethics. But they dropped the matter by mutual consent. After all it was a slight matter in the face of the great tragedy facing them.

Jimmy turned his attention to Professor Brierly, who had been talking when he was ushered into the room. The other men settled themselves back to listen. The old scientist was saying:

"August Schurman was murdered, Wrigley was really drowned. I do not know at this time whether or not some outside influence was responsible for his drowning. I merely had myself flown to the New Jersey sea coast town, where they were keeping the body. My examination was hasty, but enough to determine that he was drowned; death was really due to that."