A Woman at Bay Part 21

It is well known that some of the most expert lumbermen in the world are French Canadians, and so Nick adopted this character, and he knew that as such he could wander at will around the woods and mountains of that region without danger of being suspected for what he really was.

If any of the hoboes who made their headquarters in that region should see him, they would not be inclined to suspect what he really was, and the only actual danger he would stand in would be that they might be inclined to knock him on the head or shoot him from ambush in order to possess themselves of the few articles he had in his possession.

And for that very reason he adopted the disguise of a French Canadian lumberman, for it was rarely that they were supposed to have anything more than what they carried in sight on their backs.

The month was September, and therefore warm. The leaves in some places were getting yellow and red, although there had been no frost; but oak leaves turn earlier than others.

When he descended at Calamont Station, he stood there on the platform until the train had pulled out, and the other pa.s.sengers who had arrived by it had departed their several ways. Then he approached the baggageman.

"Me want find ze man named Beel Turner," he said slowly.

"What's that?" asked the baggageman.

"Me want find Beel Turner."

"Oh! Bill Turner, is it? Well, go up that street there until you come to the post office. You'll like enough see an old, white-whiskered chap standing there, chewing tobacco. That'll be Bill Turner."

"Beel Turner? He ees known here? No?"

"Known here? Gee! He has lived here since the oldest inhabitant was a baby. He has always lived here. He is about a thousand years old, my man; but as strong and as lively as a kid yet. You'll find him somewhere around the post office."

Nick thanked him in his broken English and strode up the street.

Sure enough, when he arrived in the vicinity of the post office, he saw a white-whiskered man standing there, and he approached him at once.

"You ees Beel Turner?" he asked modestly, sidling up to the man.

"I be," was the response, while Bill Turner fixed his clear gray eyes upon the detective. "What might you be wantin' of me, stranger?"

"I have--hush!--I have some money for you, Beel Turner. Can you take me where we can talk so that n.o.body will overhear us?"

Turner eyed him suspiciously for a moment; then he turned abruptly away with the remark:

"Come along with me, stranger."

Nick walked beside him through the town to the very end of the main street. Then they turned into a roadway, which led up a steep hill for some distance, and which presently brought them to a modest cottage that was almost hidden under the brow of the hill.

"Here is where I live," said Turner. "I live here all alone, 'cept a cat and two dogs. But the dogs hev got old like me, now, and they can't go out among the hills as they used to; although, bless you, I reckon I kin walk jest as fur as ever I could, if I try. Come in."

Nick followed him inside, and Turner offered him a rocker near the open window. The whole house was as neat and clean as if it had the care of a woman.

"Now, mister," said Turner, "what hev ye got on yer mind?"

"In the first place," replied Nick, in his natural voice, "I am not what I seem to be. I am not a lumberman, or a Frenchman--or a Canadian. I am a detective."

"Sho! You don't say so. Well, that beats me. Sure, ye do it fine, mister. I would never hev suspected at all that you are not what you seem. But go on."

"I have come here after that gang of hoboes who infest the neighborhood for fifty or sixty miles around this place. I am princ.i.p.ally after the woman who is their chief. Do you know who I mean?"

"I reckon ye must be referrin' to that there Black Madge and her gang."

"That's right."

"Well, yer up agin' a proposition. That's all I kin say about it."

"I know that; and what I want of you is to get you to help me with that proposition, Bill Turner."

"Ain't I too old?"

"Not a bit of it."

"Is there good pay in it?"

"The very best; and there is fifty dollars down for you right now--if you are inclined to do as I want you to do."

Nick took a roll of bills from his pocket as he spoke, and laid it on the table before the avaricious glances of the old man.

"Well, sir," said Turner slowly, "all I've got to say is this: If I can do what you want done, I'll do it. I want that money as bad as anybody could want it and not grab it right now where it is lying; but I have never had a penny in my life that I didn't get honestly, and I am afraid that I'm too old to do what you want done."

"I tell you that you are not."

"Then, in that case, I'll take the money and put it in my pocket--so.

There! Now, go ahead. If the work is honest, and such as an honest man can do, I'll do it--if I ain't too old, and you say I ain't. But if the work ain't honest, I'll return your money. Now, what is it, mister?"

"I want you first to promise that you will not reveal my ident.i.ty. I must be Jules Verbeau to you to the end, and you must forget that I am not he in fact."

"You kin consider that done, sir."

"Second, I want you to answer some questions for me."

"Fire away."

"How well do you know the hills and mountains, the ravines and gulches, the rocks and the caves around this region?"

"As well as I know that dooryard in front of you," replied the old man, pointing through the window. "I know every inch of the country--every inch of it."

"Now, another question which you will not understand at once: Do you know how to use a pencil, and is your hand steady enough to draw plans for me?"

"Yes, sir. I began life as a draughtsman; but that was when I was a boy."

"That will suffice. Now--could you draw a plan of different parts of the mountains, so it would be plain enough for me to follow without your being present with me?"

"That would depend upon you, sir. If you are a man who has some woodcraft in your make-up, I say yes. It would depend upon you."

"We will consider that question answered, then. Now, have you any idea to what part of the mountainous region around here--say, within fifty miles of where we are seated--the hobo gang would select in which to hide themselves?"

"I think I could guess it to a dot."