Mr. Englehardt completely lost his temper, which a public official should never do with a newspaper man. In a hoa.r.s.e voice that was almost a scream he yelled:

"You go to h.e.l.l!"

The receiver was crashed down on the hook. Jimmy heard the click.

He smiled, then his eyes took on a cold dancing light as he sat down at his typewriter. The light in his eyes boded ill for Mr.

Englehardt.

Hite asked Professor Brierly:

"And what now, Professor. Where do we go from here?"

"I go from here to the camp on Lake Memphremagog, Mr. Hite." The game will be played out there. I am getting some more information about young Amos Brown, grandson of the ill-famed number '14'. The latest information brings him uncomfortably close to the Higginbotham camp.

"The pattern is beginning to take shape, Mr. Hite. The pieces are beginning to fall into place. I believe that the next act in this tragedy will take place at or hear Justice Higginbotham's camp. If there is nothing further to keep me here, I should like to go back. Is Mr. Hale going to continue his vacation with me, Mr.

Hite?"

There was a humorous smile in the fine deep-set eyes. The skin on the city editor's gaunt features wrinkled. He yelled:

"Hey Jimmy!" As Jimmy left his typewriter he said to the old man: "I see Jimmy is in the throes of a literary composition. He seems all het up. But he can probably go with you right away. The plane is still at your disposal."

When Hale explained what he was writing, Hite's eyes glinted.

"Too bad, Jim, I hate to deprive you of the pleasure of writing it, but the Professor wants to go. Give it to Roy, Jim. He can raise as many blisters on the hide of a politician as you can."

Chapter XVI

Jimmy was dropped off at the Higginbotham camp; the other two men went ahead to their own camp.

A wild, distracted young woman met them. Norah was standing near the edge of the water gesticulating wildly. Jack, in instant concern ran through the last few feet of shallow water. "Jack,"

she panted, "Tommy is gone." He stared at her stupidly. She continued wildly: "Jack," she panted, "Tommy is gone! he's gone!"

He reached her side and took her shoulders. "Get hold of yourself, sis. Tell me--"

"When he didn't get up, his usual time this morning, I didn't think anything of it. I didn't want to go up to disturb him. At eight o'clock I went up to his room, he wasn't there. Martha said she heard him outside about six o'clock, or perhaps a little earlier.

"She didn't think anything of it; he often did that. We felt he was safe, the water is too shallow to drown between here and the float. But--"

Her arms went about him convulsively and she broke into violent sobbing. She calmed herself in a moment and continued:

"I tried to reach you in New York, but you had gone. Mr. McCall advised against notifying the police. He thinks that is perhaps the worst thing we can do. He went down to the other camp and to Lentone to see what he can do. Oh, Jack--"

Professor Brierly stood wide-eyed as he heard the news. This was more than the mere solution of a problem. His little friend had become very dear to him. He looked at the expanse of water rippling and glinting in the mid-day sunlight. Then he looked up and down the sh.o.r.e line. The irregularity of it at this point was such that one could not see a great distance in either direction.

He stared at the growth on each side of the house. Impossible that Tommy could have penetrated more than a few yards in either direction. And Professor Brierly too, remembered that the little boy had shown a disinclination for going into the woods alone.

Back of the house stretched the trail leading through the woods and fields, plowed and un-plowed, to the main road. Norah and McCall had been over that.

Professor Brierly went into the house. Norah was going about distractedly from room to room, looking in impossible places for the missing boy. Matthews had gone up the road. The young man returned shortly and they all went down to the water. Jack, his usually smiling features set in lines of care, got into the canoe and paddled slowly toward the float, his eyes fixed on the water.

Here, as was the case for some distance out, the water was so clear that the pebbly bottom was distinctly visible, with its tiny fish darting in flashing schools, from shadow to shadow.

Jack waved his hand and went roaring toward Lentone in the sea sled. This blow, he felt, coming to his sister so soon after the late tragic loss of her husband was more than one person should be called upon to bear. He went to the post office and barely glanced at the mail and newspapers the clerk handed him. He met Jimmy as he left the post office. With set face and dead tones he apprised his friend of the calamity that had visited their camp. Jimmy, in silence, too grief stricken to think of it in terms of a story, accompanied his friend to their camp.

McCall had returned without news. The group met in stony silence.

Professor Brierly was absently fingering an enclosure addressed to him when he uttered an exclamation. He read it and handed it to the person nearest him, McCall. The latter read the communication aloud, all crowding in their eagerness to see it over his shoulder. There was no signature.

_The boy is safe. You will hear from us. Do not communicate with the police._

The communication was on an oblong sheet of cheap notepaper, evidently torn from a scratch pad. The message was inscribed in hand printed characters. The features of the group were compounded of relief, deadly anger, hope, fear. Norah was of a sanguine disposition. She thought of other kidnappings, but she chose to dwell rather on those that ended happily. This note spelled hope.

She sobbed in an access of relief, being held close in her brother's arms. Jack was clumsily and tenderly patting her shoulder, making endearing and comforting sounds.

She looked up and dried her eyes, glancing from one to the other of the four capable men in the group. A glow of confidence in their combined ability gave her new hope.

"What shall we do," she asked piteously. "Shall we do what they say or--"

The men exchanged glances. Professor Brierly finished her sentence: "Or notify the authorities?" She nodded mutely.

After a long pause, Matthews answered slowly. "Everything I can do, dear, everything I have is at your disposal and will be used to help find Tommy. But it is for you to say what we do about it."

Professor Brierly said gently:

"John voices my sentiments, Mrs. Van Orden. All I can do, all I have is at your disposal toward finding your boy. The Canadian Police are a very efficient organization. But we take a certain risk in calling in the authorities on this quest. The same, of course, applies to publicity. Mr. Hale, I am sure, will respect that. I realize that it is hard to wait because whatever traces there are may be obscured by the pa.s.sage of time. On the other hand, calling in the police, with its resultant publicity, may force the kidnappers to the very step we all fear. Therefore, I am afraid that the responsibility for decision must lie with you, my dear."

The men looked in unhappy silence at the struggle the young woman was undergoing. Her features betrayed her hopes and fears. Finally twirling the plain gold band on her finger she said:

"It can do no particular harm to wait a day or two, can it? We must not do anything to--to--anger them must we? Oh, I don't know what to say!"

She turned swiftly and hurried out. The men turned toward one another in mute inquiry. Three of them were startled at what they saw in the features of Professor Brierly. Even Matthews had never seen such profound, unutterable, implacable rage as now possessed the old scientist. They were all accustomed to outbursts of wrath and impatience at stupidity or stubbornness when he was crossed; these pa.s.sed quickly. Never had even Matthews, of the three who knew him best, seen the deadly anger that now blazed in the deeply sunken eyes. Professor Brierly was about to speak, but his emotion was too deep for utterance. He stammered, stopped and left the room.

When he returned shortly he said with repressed emotion:

"I can condone all kinds of property crime; they may be caused by need or greed; they may be the result of bad home influence. I can condone crimes of pa.s.sion; even the laws differentiate between these and deliberate murder. But there is no mitigation or excuse for this kind of deed, a crime that takes an infant from its home and makes others suffer. I shall see to it," his words were carefully s.p.a.ced and came slowly, "that-the-men-responsible-for-this-are punished." He shook his head violently as if to shake off an unpleasant picture. He held up the envelope and enclosure once more. He looked up when Norah came in dry-eyed. She stood leaning wearily against the table running her hand through her disheveled hair.

"Have you decided?" asked Professor Brierly.

"Yes, Professor, we will wait a day or two. I--I--am afraid."

A day and night spent in an agony of apprehension came to an end the following morning with the receipt of the following message:

_Professor Herman Brierly:_

_Go home to New York, you will hear from us there._

It was printed on the same cheap notepaper. Again, as the first message, it bore the postmark of Magog. It had no signature.

McCall pointed to the address on the envelope: