Читать книгу The Scarecrow Mystery (Ted Wilford #8) - Norvin Pallas - Страница 8

DESPITE ITS SMALL SIZE, ECHO HAD A COMMUnity hospital, toward which Nelson was directed. Now that the first shock was wearing off, Mr. Prentice admitted to feeling some bruises. As Ted and Nelson waited in the corridor, he was given an emergency examination. Then he came out into the corridor to tell them the results.

“Nothing broken, but the doctor wants me to stay overnight as a precautionary measure. That seems overly cautious to me, but of course it’s their job to be careful. He’s telephoning the sheriff’s office right now, and they’ll probably send a man out. Don’t leave until you’ve talked to him, since he’ll want to get your account of the accident, too.”

“Anything we can do, about the car or anything else?” Ted volunteered.

“No, Ted, I don’t think so. There’s a garage here in Echo, and I’ll telephone while I’m waiting and make the necessary arrangements. And I’ll have to cancel my appointment with my attorney in Forestdale. He’s Mr. Waring. Do you know him?”

The boys nodded.

“He wanted to go over my testimony for the hearing tomorrow, but I guess we probably won’t make it now. That’s all right by me. I surely haven’t anything to hide. I just hope the whole truth comes out. By the way, Ted, is it all right for me to give him your name, just in case he should want more information about the accident, or anything else you might be able to help with?”

“Of course, Mr. Prentice. I just wish we could do something more for you. It doesn’t seem right to leave you here alone in the hospital.”

“Nonsense. I owe you boys a great deal already, and don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”

Fortunately he knew better than to offer them a reward, and so saved the boys the embarrassment of refusing. While Mr. Prentice made his calls, Ted, in another phone booth, called the Town Crier office, explaining the delay. Once he was certain neither of the boys was injured, Mr. Dobson asked them to stay in Echo as long as they could help Mr. Prentice.

When the policeman arrived on a motorcycle, Mr. Prentice was being formally admitted to the hospital, so the officer spoke with the boys first. Ted really had very little to tell, having seen nothing until the car had already left the road. Nelson’s account was a little more complete. He knew the color of the other car, and thought he knew the make, but admitted he wasn’t positive about it. He didn’t have the license number, of course. And though Nelson made it clear that the other car was at fault, he said nothing to indicate that the incident had been deliberate. Ted had already advised him it would be better not to make any wild charges he couldn’t support. Anyway, leaving the scene of an accident was already a serious enough charge.

The boys would have liked to see Mr. Prentice once more before leaving, but the officer was with him now, and a hospital attendant told them the patient could have no more visitors until evening. Rather reluctantly they set out for Forestdale.

“I didn’t see much sense at first in the two cars sticking together,” Nelson remarked, “but this time it was pretty useful—like the buddy system at camp.”

“You still think it was done deliberately?” Ted inquired.

Nelson nodded. “All I can tell you is what I saw, and that’s the way it looked to me. What about you, Ted?”

“I might believe it if I could see any sense to it. I don’t see how it accomplished anything.”

“Oh, a man like Mr. Prentice must have dozens of enemies. And if this was one of them, he played it mighty rough. You knew he was going to Forestdale, so I suppose other people could have known it, too.”

“Yes, I expect so. It was mentioned in the paper that he had an appointment in Stanton Thursday morning, and of course he had a court hearing in Forestdale Friday morning, so the time he would be making the trip could be pinned down quite accurately. But if it were deliberate, do you think the car could have followed us all the way from Stanton?”

“No, I don’t. Traffic was pretty light, and I could often see long, empty stretches back of me. I think that car must have picked us up in Echo.”

At the office a dozen odd jobs awaited Ted, and Nelson was also given a few errands which kept him hopping. Mr. Dobson and Miss Monroe had further questions about the accident, which Ted readily answered.

“You think he’ll be able to get to the hearing tomorrow morning?” asked the editor.

“He said he would, and the doctor seemed to think so, too.”

“How’d you like to cover the hearing for the paper, Ted?” inquired Mr. Dobson suddenly.

Ted was hardly surprised, but very much pleased. “Fine! But I thought you’d want to handle it yourself, Mr. Dobson.”

“I did plan on it, but I find a number of different things have come up, and it’ll be better for me to be here at the office where I can keep my finger on them. You needn’t report here in the morning, but if you should find a break around the middle of the morning, call in. I’d like to be posted on how things are going.”

Although Mr. Dobson undoubtedly was busy, Ted knew he must have had confidence in Ted’s judgment or else he would have arranged to get there himself. So, for Ted, the working day ended on a happy note, in spite of their troubles. Nelson, too, admitted he was satisfied with his day’s work.

“If Mr. Prentice had been alone, he might have been trapped there for hours before someone found him. I’m glad we could help him.”

Because of the pressure of their holiday schedule, Ted was obliged to take some work home from the office with him. He sat down to it soon after supper, but had not proceeded very far before the telephone rang.

“Ted, this is Mr. Waring, Mr. Prentice’s attorney.”

“Yes, Mr. Waring. Mr. Prentice told me you might call.”

“I’ve just had a long talk with Mr. Prentice by telephone, and I’ve had some bad news.”

“Is he worse?” asked Ted anxiously.

“Oh, no, he’s all right—physically. But that accident has put us in a bad hole, and he’s worried about it. Did he tell you that he was carrying a microfilm of union records?”

“Well, yes, I think he did mention it,” Ted recollected.

“Do you happen to know where he carried it?”

“No, he didn’t say.”

“It was in the door pocket—the door opposite the driver’s seat. Later he checked with the garage, and they couldn’t find it. He thinks it must have been thrown out of the car.”

“I thought the doors were jammed shut.”

“Apparently not. He thinks the right-hand door was sprung open as the car careened over, but that it finally landed on that side and jammed the door shut again. Either that, or it fell out somehow when the garage was righting the car preparatory to towing it in. However it happened, it’s gone, and we’re in a jam. Without that film there won’t be any point to the hearing tomorrow morning.”

“It seems to me that the accident gives you a legitimate excuse,” Ted offered. “Can’t you get a postponement?”

“There’ve been a couple of postponements already. Even if the court allows it, it will make a bad impression on the public. They might get the idea he’s afraid to testify. I’ve warned him against any more postponements.”

Ted was silent. It seemed to him that if you needed a postponement, then you needed it, whether it was good public relations or not. He waited, but the lawyer was silent—with the kind of silence which precedes the asking of a favor, Ted thought. He decided to inquire:

“Can’t the microfilm be replaced?”

“Not very easily, Ted. There was only the one copy. Of course we still have the union records, but getting them filmed over again will take days of work. You know, Ted, it’s possible that that film is still out there at the scene of the accident, lying on the ground. Do you think you could take a run out there and look for it?”

“Tonight? It wouldn’t be very easy to find it in the dark.”

“I know it’s a terrible imposition, Ted, but the matter is awfully important to us, and Mr. Prentice said he felt I could call on you for any tasks that might come up.”

“I guess I could,” Ted agreed slowly. “Are you coming, too?”

“I wish I could, Ted, but I don’t think I would be of much help in finding the film, and I’ve got several important things that have to be done before the hearing. You’re almost the only one I can ask, since you’re familiar with the accident scene. You can borrow my car if you want to.”

“Thanks, but I can ask the friend I was with this afternoon. If he can’t make it, I’ll stop by for your car. Are you at your office?”

“Yes, and I’ll be here till past midnight. Well, thanks a lot, Ted. Mr. Prentice and I both appreciate this very much. Call me when you get back, will you?”

“All right, I will. Good-by, Mr. Waring.”

“Good-by, Ted. Good luck.”

Nelson was agreeable to the trip, and provided them with some strong flashlights as well.

“But that place is beginning to haunt me,” he admitted as they started out. “I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to spend the rest of my life just going to and from Echo.”

At the scene of the accident, Nelson drew his car well off the road, and left the lights on. Though the wreck had been removed, they remembered the spot very distinctly, and explored the hillside as carefully as they could, following the course the car had taken, until they came to the place where it had stopped. The ground was frozen hard, but the trampling of the weeds showed where the garage men had been at work, and the course they had followed in towing out the car. But though the boys flashed their lights about in a wide circle, they were unable to find anything that resembled a roll of microfilm.

“The worst of it is,” Nelson decided, “that it might be lying right out in plain sight, and we could easily find it in the daytime. These flashlights are all right, but they aren’t the sun.”

“You looking for the wreck?” a voice hailed them. “A car with a hook on it came and towed it away.”

They turned their fights on the hill and saw a boy of about ten or eleven. He had a hockey stick flung over his shoulder, and ice skates dangled from it.

“How’s the ice?” asked Nelson, deciding to try a friendly approach.

“Cold,” said the boy. He came down the hill with no sign of timidity.

“We’re looking for a small package which may have been lost out of the car,” Ted explained.

“What did it look like?”

Ted made a vague motion with his hands. “I guess it was about this big—”

“Was it in a cardboard box?”

“Maybe it was, or maybe it fell out of the box.”

“Probably in a tin container,” Nelson spoke up. “Why, did you see a package?”

“No.”

“What’s your name?” Ted asked.

“Jerry Speck.”

“Do you live in Echo?”

“No, I live in that house over there.” They followed his nod, and could just see the roof of a house over the crest of the hill.

“Well, Jerry,” Ted went on, “we’re very anxious to find this package. Did you see anyone around who may have picked it up?”

“Nope. Just us guys who went skating, and the policeman, and the tow-truck men, and the scavenger.”

“The scavenger!” Ted and Nelson exclaimed together.

“Yes.”

“Who is he?” Ted questioned.

“He lives over that way, in a shack by the dump. Everybody says he’s awfully rich. He’s got a million dollars buried someplace.”

“Was this scavenger here when nobody else was around?”

“Yes. He was looking around the car, and then we came and he went away. Then the policeman and the tow-truck men came. We saw them pull the car up the hill. That was when we were on our way home from the pond before supper.”

“Well, Jerry, it’s possible that the package is lying somewhere around here but we can’t find it in the dark. How about you looking around in the morning to see if you can find it?”

“Is there a reward?” Jerry demanded.

“Reward? Oh, yes, I’m sure Mr. Waring would be glad to pay you a reward if you find it.”

“Five dollars,” said Nelson grandly, and added in an undertone to Ted, “It’s not my money.”

“Five dollars!” the boy exclaimed. “Sure, I’ll look for it. What do I do if I find it?”

Ted took out his pencil and notebook. “Here’s my telephone number. It’s long distance, and you can call collect. I need it before nine o’clock.”

Jerry took the paper excitedly and thrust it into his pocket as he ran off home.

“We’re going to look up the scavenger, aren’t we?” asked Nelson. Ted nodded and they started off in the direction Jerry had pointed out earlier.

“First time I ever heard one of those dump-pickers called a scavenger,” Nelson observed. “I suppose it’s the same thing as a beachcomber, except that he doesn’t have a beach.”

“Sure, and they’ve all got a million dollars buried somewhere,” Ted remarked as they walked along. “He might not have the film, though. Maybe one of the boys picked it up.”

“No, I don’t think so. Not that I think all kids are honest, but they usually take something they want. Something like this they’d probably turn over to the police.”

“Maybe not, if they were just curious to take it home and see what was inside.”

“I suppose that’s possible, but I don’t think they could have done it without Jerry seeing them. That kid doesn’t seem to miss much. And for five dollars he would surely have told us.”

They reached the dump, which had a long dirt road leading up to it, and apparently was the main dump for villages for miles around. Most of the refuse had been plowed under and smoothed over with dirt on top, but they could see the uncovered part where recent dumping had taken place.

“Gee, maybe you could get rich at a job like this,” Nelson speculated. “You always read stories about people accidentally throwing out their jewelry, and stuff like that. Maybe it’s guys like this who find it.”

“And, naturally, turn it back like honest people.”

“Sure, sure they do—not! Well, where’s that shack?”

They looked around in every direction, before finally spotting it. It was not far off, but was obscured by the shadow of nearby trees. The shack itself was entirely dark.

“Looks like nobody’s home,” Nelson decided.

“Unless he’s sleeping. Well, let’s try it, anyway. That’s what we came for.”

“Hope he doesn’t have a shotgun,” Nelson muttered. “If he really does have anything valuable, he’s likely to be touchy about it.”

At the front door they knocked loudly, then waited a minute or two, but there was no response from inside. Once more they pounded on the door, but there was still no answer.

“He couldn’t be asleep after that,” Nelson asserted. “He’s either hiding, or else he’s away. You know, this door isn’t fastened very well. I bet I could break the lock in with about one good push.”

“No, you don’t.” Ted laid a restraining hand on his arm. “You ever hear about burglary?”

“You mean breaking into this old shack would be burglary?” asked Nelson incredulously. “It’s not like breaking into a house in town.”

“Why isn’t it? If somebody lives here, then it’s his home. The law doesn’t care how fine a home it is.”

“I hate to go back without getting what we came for, though.”

“We still have one chance,” Ted pointed out as they started back toward the car. “Jerry may find it in the morning.”