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"This theory," continued Mr. Johnson, "insists that there was a second person in the private office of the banker that hot July night. It is claimed that this person went to the office to secure financial help from the banker. It is said, too, that he possesses at this time positive proof, in the form of written doc.u.ments, showing that Fremont committed suicide. The family believes this proof to be perfect."
"Then why don't they find this fellow and bring him forward?" asked Will.
"That is just what they are trying to do," replied Johnson. "That is just what you boys are expected to do!" he added with a smile. "You are expected to bring this witness forward, and so establish the innocence of the son. That's what you're here for."
"That's nice!" exclaimed Tommy. "That's an easy little undertaking for four school boys! When other means fail, hire Boy Scouts!"
"That's right!" replied Johnson.
"And we won't see him if those two imitation detectives get to him first!" the boy went on.
"And that's right too," Johnson answered. "For my part, I can't understand how the Chicago police department got wise to the whereabouts of Wagner at this time. When it was arranged to send you boys out here in quest of him, it was understood that the police had no clue whatever as to his whereabouts. In fact, we all believed that the officers had abandoned the search for the escaped convict."
"Well, they're here all right!" Sandy cut in. "And look here," he went on, "we've got something worse than imitation detectives in our midst!
We've got a couple of train robbers, and a band of cowboy vigilantes!"
"Exactly!" Johnson agreed. "And you've got something equally dangerous for the purposes of our cause. You've got that fourteen-year-old Chester Winslow, whose name isn't Winslow at all, but Chester Wagner, son of the escaped convict!"
"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Tommy. "That boy didn't do a thing to Will, did he?" he added with a roar of laughter. "He told him a story about coming in on blind baggage, and sized up the camp, and stole the badge and the weapons and money of the detective sent in here to capture his father.
Just think of the kid coming in here and stealing the detective's badge!
He'd have taken his necktie if he'd 'a' thought of it!"
"I thought you'd see something humorous in the occurrence as soon as you found out about the boy!" laughed Johnson.
"The little rascal!" shouted Sandy. "The nerve of him! To come in here and steal the badge of the detective sent out to catch his father! Say,"
he went on, "I hope we'll run across that boy and make friends with him.
I rather like his grit!"
"You won't be apt to find him as long as he thinks it necessary to keep his father in hiding!" Johnson suggested.
"He's an awful little liar!" exclaimed Will.
"I guess you'd lie, too," laughed Tommy, "if you had the same motive for lying that he had. He's standing by his father like a brick! And I won't lay it up against him if he tells lies enough to fill a book! He drew one friend in me when he stole that policeman's badge."
"These detectives," Will asked in a moment, "are here to take Wagner back to the penitentiary if they can find him, I suppose?"
"That's the idea! Unless some one of the relatives has leaked, the police do not understand that Wagner is a factor in the Fremont case.
They are here to take him back to the penitentiary if they can find him and that's all they know about it."
"Well," Tommy exclaimed, "let them get him and take him back to the penitentiary! As soon as he gets run in for the remainder of his sentence he'll tell about being in the banker's private office that hot July night, and that will secure the release of the boy who is charged with the murder. It seems to me that the police are helping along this case."
"Not so you could notice it!" replied Johnson. "The fact is," he went on, "Wagner is entirely innocent of the crime for which he was convicted. He has had what the officers call a vindictive grouch on ever since the day he was sent to prison. In other words, he is at war with every person in the world except his son, the boy who told you such pretty fairy stories last night. If he is ever retaken and sent back to the penitentiary, he will never open his lips, not even if the accused son dies on the scaffold."
"And that's another beautiful little complication!" exclaimed Sandy.
"The friends of the accused man," continued Johnson, "must find Wagner and contract to establish his innocence. If the police get him first, we lose our case. I say this positively because there is no doubt that he will kill an officer or two before he is taken. Now you boys see exactly what you have undertaken to do."
"It's interesting, anyhow!" Tommy declared.
"Reads like a novel!" cried Sandy.
"Think of that little rat coming here and stealing the detective's badge!" laughed George. "It's a sure thing he'll lead those amateur officers a merry dance while they are in the hills! If I could just get hold of him, I wouldn't mind helping him along now and then!"
"Well, get hold of him then," advised Johnson.
"But how?" asked Will. "Why, from this time on, you might as well try to catch a flea in a load of hay as to get your hands on that boy! He can find you, but you can't find him!"
"But he was hungry last night!" Tommy explained. "And he may become hungry again!"
CHAPTER IV
A CHASE IN THE NIGHT
Shortly after dinner Johnson decided to make a start on his return trip at once. It would take him, he said, two days in addition to the half day to reach Green River, and he was due in San Francisco on the evening of the third day. One of the burros was relieved of his burden of provisions and the young man started away, leaving the boys feeling rather lonely and also rather overloaded with responsibility!
"Do you really think Wagner and the boy are out of provisions?" asked Tommy as twilight settled down over the camp.
"I don't see how they can procure provisions," Will suggested.
"We've just got to find out!" exclaimed Sandy. "You must remember," he continued, "that this Chester Wagner is a Tenderfoot in the Beaver Patrol, Chicago. He's afraid of us, but we've just got to help him out!
We wouldn't be good Boy Scouts if we didn't! Suppose we put up a smoke signal for help and see if he'll come."
"Oh, yes, he'll come--not!" exclaimed Tommy.
"We can try it, anyway," insisted Sandy.
The lad carried embers from the campfire a short distance to the west and built another roaring fire. Then he set about gathering green gra.s.s in order to make a greater volume of smoke.
"You'll have to hurry with your telegraph apparatus," laughed George, "if you want the boy to read your signal by daylight. It'll be so dark in half an hour that he couldn't see a column of smoke fifty feet away!
Perhaps he isn't near enough to see them, anyway!"
"If I do all I can," Sandy declared, "I won't be to blame if he doesn't see them. I believe we ought to find some way to help that kid!"
The fires were now burning at a great rate, and Sandy heaped huge armfuls of green gra.s.s on top of the blazing sticks, with the result that two great columns of white smoke lifted to the evening sky.
When the gra.s.s burned out and the smoke became thinner the boy put on more and sat listening patiently for some sound, watching intently for an answering signal from the hills.
"I guess it's no good!" Sandy declared, mournfully, as the third supply of gra.s.s burned down. "The chances are that the train robbers and the imitation detectives have frightened Wagner and the kid out of the hills."
"I don't believe he'll come if he does see it," Will declared.
After a time the boys permitted one of the fires to die out and began preparations for supper. Tommy went back to one of the tents for the knives and forks directly, and in a moment came rushing back without any knives or forks but with a folded paper in his hand.
"Look here," he exclaimed excitedly, "while I was entering the tent something hit me a clip on the back. When I turned around to see what foolishness you fellows were up to, I found a piece of rock lying on the ground at my feet and close beside it, this piece of paper."