Signal in the Dark Part 33

The question was put to the professor who replied briefly that he knew nothing whatsoever about Webb Nelson.

"I met him only two weeks ago," he said. "He claimed to be an expert at handling explosives, so I hired him."

No one believed the professor was telling the truth. However, it was useless to question him further. Determined not to implicate himself, his wife, or his helper, he spoke as seldom as possible.

"The man has a room here," Mr. Parker suggested. "Suppose we see what we can find."

Mrs. Leonard led the way upstairs. The professor's room was locked, but she opened it with a master key.

Two suitcases had been packed as if for a hasty departure and everything was in disorder. All garments had been removed from the closets. The sc.r.a.p basket was filled with torn letters which Mr. Parker promptly gathered together and placed in an envelope for future piecing together.

In one of the suitcases he found several newspaper clippings. One bore a picture of the professor, but the name beneath it was Claude Arkwright, and the story related that he was wanted in connection with a $10,000 hoax.

"Bettenridge is our man all right," the publisher declared. "We made no mistake in holding him for the sheriff."

Penny had been searching the larger of the two suitcases which seemed to contain only clothing. But as she reached the lower layer, she suddenly gave a jubilant cry.

"Salt! Dad!" she exclaimed. "It's here! See what I've found!"

CHAPTER 22 _SALT'S MISSING CAMERA_

From the suitcase, Penny lifted Salt's camera. With a cry of pleasure, he s.n.a.t.c.hed it from her hand and eagerly examined it.

"Is it damaged in any way?" Penny asked.

"It doesn't seem to be. So the professor had it all the time just as we thought!"

"And here are the plates I tossed into the car the night of the explosion!" Penny added, burrowing deeper into the pile of clothing.

"They're probably ruined by now."

"Maybe not," said Salt, examining them. "The professor may have thought they were unexposed plates and kept them for use later on."

"Anyway, it was crooked of him to try to keep the camera," Penny declared. "Though I suppose such a small theft doesn't amount to much in comparison to the trick he nearly played on Mr. Johnson."

"It matters to me," the photographer chuckled. "Am I glad to get this camera back! The plates won't do us any good now they are outdated, but I'll take them along anyhow. I'm curious to see if they would have shown anything of significance."

"By all means develop them," urged Mr. Parker. "Anything else in the suitcase?"

In a pocket of the case Penny found several letters from Mr. Johnson which she gave to her father. Knowing they would be valuable in establishing a case of attempted fraud against the professor, he kept them.

"I wish Webb Nelson hadn't managed to escape," Penny remarked as the trio went downstairs again. "He must have started for Newhall, perhaps to catch a train."

"Any due at this time?" her father asked thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't know."

"Tell you what," Mr. Parker proposed. "We can do nothing more here. We may as well drive to the village again and press an inquiry for Webb."

Once more the car with Salt as driver careened over the b.u.mpy country road to Newhall. They reached the town without sighting anyone who resembled the professor's helper.

"Drive to the station," Mr. Parker instructed Salt. "There's an outside chance Webb went there."

The depot was a drab little red building, deserted except for a sleepy-eyed station agent who told them there was no pa.s.senger train scheduled to leave Newhall before six o'clock the next morning.

"Any freight trains?" Mr. Parker inquired.

"A couple are overdue," the agent said. "No. 32 from the east, and No.

20, also westbound. No. 20's just coming into the block."

Although it seemed unlikely Webb would take a freight train out of town, Mr. Parker, Salt and Penny, decided to wait for it to come in. They went outside, standing in the shadow of the station.

"No sign of anyone around," Salt declared, looking carefully about. "We may as well go back to the lake."

"Let's wait," Penny urged.

No. 20 rumbled into the station, stirring up a whirlwind of dust and cinders. A trainman with a lantern over his arm, came into the station to get his orders from the agent. He chatted a moment, then went out again, swinging aboard one of the cars. A moment later, the train began to move.

"Shall we go?" Mr. Parker said impatiently.

Penny b.u.t.toned her coat as she stepped beyond the protection of the building, for the night air was cold and penetrated her thin clothing.

Treading along behind her father and Salt to the car, she started to climb in, when her attention riveted upon a lone figure some distance from the railroad station. A man, who resembled Webb Nelson in build, had emerged from behind a tool shed, and stood close to the tracks watching the slowly moving freight.

Then he ran along beside the train and suddenly leaped into one of the empty box cars.

"Dad! Salt!" she exclaimed. "I just saw someone leap into one of those cars! I'm sure it was Webb!"

"Where?" demanded her father. "Which car?"

"The yellow one. Oh, he'll get away unless we can have him arrested at the next town!"

"He won't escape if I can stop him!" Salt muttered.

Racing across the platform, he waited for the car Penny had indicated.

Although the train was moving faster now, he leaped and swung himself to a sitting position in the open doorway.

"Look out! Look out!" Penny screamed in warning.

Behind Salt, the man who had taken refuge in the car, moved stealthily toward him, obviously intending to push him off the train. But the photographer knew what to expect and was prepared.

He whirled suddenly and scrambled to his feet. His attacker caught him slightly off balance, and they went down together, rolling over and over on the straw littered floor.

Worried for Salt, Penny and Mr. Parker ran along beside the train. The publisher tried to leap aboard to help the photographer, but lacking the younger man's athletic prowess, he could not make it. Already winded, he began to fall behind.

Penny kept on and managed to grasp the doorway of the car, but she instantly realized she could not swing herself through the opening. The train now was moving rapidly and gaining speed each moment.