"Come!" I cried; and we darted down and over the bridge to the road above, but nothing was visible. Suddenly a couple of figures emerged from the darkness by the Mansion gate. We recognized Oakes and Moore, who had been awaiting us.

We related the circ.u.mstances of our return to the Mansion to them.

"Yes," said Oakes, "we were watching the man near the road. He had a gun, and was evidently waiting for you. We were just going to make a rush at him when we saw you run back at the signal."

"Who was he?" asked I.

"I will answer the question by asking: Who was the man who warned you?"

"I haven't the least idea," said I.

"You see, you were in great danger, and only that man's foresight saved your life. But there are _two_ unknowns now--the friend and the enemy."

We watched my escorts descend and cross the bridge, mount the ascent and disappear over the crest toward Mona. Then the moonlight silhouetted their figures for an instant, as they turned and waved a farewell.

_CHAPTER XII_

_The Witness_

Mr. George Elliott, aristocratic, well-to-do club-man and all-round agreeable fellow, lived in bachelor apartments on the upper West side of New York.

He was engaged now in the brokerage business, but, times having been dull, he found it rather difficult to occupy himself and was antic.i.p.ating taking a vacation--but where, he had not yet decided.

Events were shaping themselves, however, to bring him into the happenings at Mona as one of our party.

On the corner, near the apartment, was a boot-blacking stand, presided over by one Joe, an intelligent and wide-awake colored youngster, whose general good-nature and honesty had made him popular with many. Among his patrons and general well-wishers was Mr. Elliott, to whom Joe had taken a particular liking, and whose opinions the young negro had often sought in an off-hand way; for, despite his general air of reserve and hauteur, Elliott was kindness itself at heart, and a man who could be easily approached by those who were suffering from worry and hardship.

At about the time of the beginning of this story, Joe's mother had been taken sick and had died in Troy, and the boy had gone up there for a few days.

Then he had gone to Lorona, a little town farther south, and from thence to Mona on his way home to New York. At Mona he had seen a terrible thing--a murder.

Bewildered, frightened, overawed by his fateful knowledge, he had managed, however, to reach New York, where he sought out Mr. Elliott for counsel; he knew the latter was kind and good and would tell him what to do. Joe realized that he needed advice--that he was in a terrible fix, being the only witness, so far as he knew, of a crime of the worst kind.

As Joe told Mr. Elliott the things he had witnessed, that gentleman realized the tremendous value of the evidence being told him.

By adroit questioning, he determined that the celebrated Quintus Oakes was in Mona. The boy said he recognized him, for he had frequently "shined" Mr. Oakes's shoes in times past on Broadway. Elliott realized that as he was called Clark at the inquest--according to Joe--the people in Mona did not know him as Oakes; he must be travelling under an _alias_, on important business probably. Elliott also grasped the fact that Oakes was there at the time of the murder by coincidence only. He had read of the affair in the evening paper, but only in a careless manner. It was all of deep interest now.

What should he do with Joe?

If he allowed the boy to think that he was in a tight place, he might run away, and that would defeat justice. There was the alternative of telling the police; _that_ would mix himself up in an unpleasant affair, and Joe might not be believed--might be falsely accused of the murder.

Again, he knew Mr. Oakes. He had seen him at the Club, and he did not desire to frustrate whatever investigations the detective might be making.

The best solution would be to find Quintus Oakes and tell him. He certainly would be able to give some attention to the murder, even if not in Mona for that purpose. Meanwhile, he himself would hold the boy at all hazards.

With skill scarcely to be expected from one of his easy-going type, he told Joe to remain and sleep in his flat that night and that he would fix things for him. The terror-stricken negro was only too glad of sympathy and protection from one of Mr. Elliott's standing, and complied; for he was at the mercy of his friends. What could he, a colored boy, do alone?

After tired nature had a.s.serted herself and Joe had fallen asleep in a room which had been given him, Elliott called up Oakes's office by telephone. In less than an hour a dapper young man sought admission to the apartment, and was met by Elliott. He introduced himself as "Martin--from Oakes's place." In a few words Elliott explained matters, and Martin said:

"Let Joe go to his boot-blacking stand in the morning. Get your shoes shined, and place your hand on his shoulder in conversation, so that he can be identified before you leave. Our men will be in sight. Then meet me at the elevated station, and we will go to Mona together, if you care to do so."

"Good!" said Elliott. "I am willing; I will take my vacation that way."

And that was how, several hours later, Joe went to his boot-blacking stand, feeling secure in being near friends, and oblivious of the fact that strange eyes were watching all his movements.

A little later Elliott patronized the stand, and in leaving placed his hand on Joe's shoulder and said: "n.o.body will trouble you, old fellow.

Don't say a word; it will all come out right. I will back you to the limit."

And after that several pairs of eyes watched every movement of the boot-black. Several affable strangers gave him quarters for ten-cent shines. Joe was not in the police net, but he was in the vision of those silent men whom one cannot detect--those experts employed by men like Oakes. Escape was impossible for the negro.

Joe remained in good spirits, for had not Mr. Elliott befriended him? He was ignorant of the doings of those brief hours when he slept.

Elliott's going to Mona was perhaps unnecessary, but he felt a natural curiosity to know Oakes better, as well as to see the outcome of the case and the effect of the evidence the negro possessed. He was also actuated by a desire to do all he could to establish the accuracy of the boy's statement, and to see that he obtained as good treatment as was consistent with the ends of justice.

He and Martin arrived at Mona the day after the murder--our first one at the Mansion. The two stayed at the hotel and studied the town, finding it impossible to go to the Mansion without creating talk.

As Martin said: "We must go slowly and not appear too interested in Oakes, or rather Clark, as he is known up here--so the office informed me. So far as we know he has nothing to do with the murder case, and we, being strangers and consequently subject to comment, must be guarded in our actions. I have seen and heard enough to realize that there is much suppressed excitement among the people. We must communicate with Oakes quietly, and find whether it is wise to see him. He may not desire our presence at the Mark place."

_CHAPTER XIII_

_The Plan of Campaign_

Next day, as we were at breakfast at the Mansion, the masons and carpenters came. Curiously enough, one of them brought a note from Martin, asking if it would be convenient for him to bring a stranger, with valuable information, to see Mr. Oakes that morning; and the man found it convenient to drop into town a little later and incidentally to meet Martin and let him know that Oakes expected him. Then he went to the hardware store and bought a few trifling things, as any carpenter or mason might do.

"Looks as though I am going to hold a reception this morning," said Oakes: "The Chief of Police making an engagement last night for an interview this morning, and now Martin asking for another."

"What is Martin doing up here?" asked Moore.

"Well, don't get impatient. He has something important, anyway. Just wait." I think Moore felt aggravated at Oakes's apparent indifference.

Of course it was simulated, but he seemed so calm and oblivious of the ma.s.s of happenings that had put Moore and myself in a state of extreme excitement.

It was not long before Martin and Mr. Elliott were with us. Oakes received Elliott in a most agreeable manner, which placed us all at ease. He said he knew Mr. Elliott by sight, and esteemed it greatly that he should extend information to him. Also he was sure it must be of great value, since the gentleman had travelled all the way from New York to place him in possession of it. And this was said before any information was given. We saw that our friend was a diplomat.

Quickly Mr. Elliott gave all the particulars of the negro's confession, and the detective said: "If I am called into the case by Chief Hallen, I shall want to see the boy; if not, the information should be given to the Chief, as the matter belongs to his jurisdiction."

Looking out of the window at that moment, I espied Hallen coming up the walk.

"Good!" said Oakes. "Now, Mr. Elliott, will you kindly retire with Dr.

Moore, while Stone, Martin and I hear what the Chief has to say."

When Hallen came up, he seemed very cordial, but worried, and made no attempt to disguise the fact that he antic.i.p.ated trouble with the unruly element in Mona by Sat.u.r.day night.