Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 January 1915 — NOVEMBER JOE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

NOVEMBER JOE

'TheDetective

by Hesketh Prichard

3ynoMis. ~~~ James; Quaritch engage's November Joe as his guide. Joe and he go to Big Tree portage to investigate the murder of a trapper named Lyon. Joe decides that the murderer followed Lyon to his camp and shot him from a canoe. By studying woodland evidence and making- clever deductions Joe discovers the murderer, Highamson. Lumberman Close reports that Blackmask, a highiSayinan, is robbing his men. CHAPTER V. a The Guilty Man. THERE was no doubt about the fact that November was surprised. He said nothing for a full minute, then he looked up sharply. “How many bottles of whisky had you?” said he. “Nary one,” answered Thompson. “There isn’t one nearer than Lavallotte, as you well know. We wasn’t drunk, we was drugged. We must ’a‘ been, though how it was done beats me, for we had nothing but bread and bacon and tea, and I made the tea myself.” “Where’s the kettle?” “We left that and the frying pan back at the hut, for we’re going to hunt the country for the thief. You’ll come along, Nov?" “On my oWn condition, or I’ll have nothing to do with it.” “What’s it?” “That nary a man of you goes back to Tideson’s bridge but till 1 give you leave.” “But we want to catch the robber.” “Very well. Go and try if you think you can do It.” An outburst of argument arose, but soon one and another began to say: “We’ll leave it to yon. Nov.” “Mind you fetch my $l9O back for me, Nov.” “Leave Nov alone.” “Go on, Nov." November laughed. “1 suppose yon all slept with-jour money-nn-yoir?”-It appeared they all had, and Lars and Chris, who possessed pocketbooks, and found them flung, empty, in a bor ner of the hut “Well. Mr. Quaritch and me’ll be getting along, boys. I’ll let you know If I’ve any luck.” Then suddenly -November turned to the big spokesman and said, “By the way, Thompson, did you fill that kettle at the brook before you found you’d lost your cash?” “No: I run right back.” “That’s lucky,” said November, and We walked away in a roar of shoutfid quesflofis tofhe canod' placed av'bur disposal by Close. By water we could run down to Tideson’s bridge in an (hour or two. j “Do you think this is the work of Ehe same man that held up Dan Ml haels?” j “Guess so. Can’t be sure. The ground’s fine and soft, and we ought to get the answer to a good many ques Itions down there.” t Thanks to the canoe and a short cut nown to November, we arrived at our estination in admirable time. ■ First of all, skirting the path, we ;went to the hut where the six bad slept. A few articles dropped from the hastily made packs lay about, the frying pan beside the stove and the kettle on its side by the door. November 'moved round examining everything in his deft, light way. Lastly, he picked up the kettle and peered inside. “What’s in It?” said 1. “Nothing.” returned November. “Well. Thompson told you he hadn’t filled it,” I reminded him. He gave me a queer little smile. “Just so,” said be and strolled for fifty yards or so up the tote road. “I’ve been along looking at the footmarks of them six mossbaek's,” he volunteered. “Now iye'll lo'Ok around here.” £ ■ The inspection of the tracks was nat orally a somewhat lengthy business ■November had studied the trail of the six men to some purpose, for, though he hardly paused as be ranged the trod den ground, so swift were his eyes that be named each of the men to me as be pointed to their several tracks. As we approached the bank he indicated a distinct set of footsteps, which we followed to the hut and back again to the water. I “He’s the chap that did it,” said No 'vember. “That’s pretty plain.” i “He is a heavier man than I am, and ’he walks rather on his heels.” I November nodded, and began to follow the trail, which went down into the stream. He stood at tlie water’s 'edge examining some, stones which

had~been recently displaced, then wailed down into it “Where was his boat?’’ I asked. But November had by now reached a large flat stone some feet out in the water, and this he was looking round and over with great care. Then he beckoned to me. The stone was a large, flat one, as I have said, and he showed me some scratches upon its 'farther surface. The scratches were deep and irregular. I stared at them, but to me they conveyed nothing, j “They don’t look like the mark of a boat,” I ventured. | “They aren’t. But that chap made them all right,” he said. “But how or why?” November laughed. “I won’t answer that yet, but I’ll tell you this, the robbery was done between 2 and 3 o’clock last night.” | “What makes you say that?” ' November pointed to a grove of birch on the nearer bank. | “Those trees,” he answered; then, on seeing my look of bewilderment, he

•added, “and he wasn’t a 200 pound man an’ heavier than you, but a little thin chap, and he hadn’t a boat” J. “Then how did he get away—by (wading?" I “Maybe he waded.” i “If he did he must have left the Btreara somewhere,” I exclaimed. , “Sure.” | “Then you’ll be able to find his tracks where he landed;” “No need to.” “Why?” “Because I’m sure of my man.” “Is it the same who held up Dan Michaels?” 1 “Yes.” ’"''"“A. With that I had to be satisfied. It was late at night when we approached Camp C. We Jumped ashore and went silently straight to the office, where the manager lived- A crowd stood I round, and two men were holding the j door; one was the burly Thompson. j, “Hello! You needn't bother no more, i (Nov,” he shouted. “We’ve got him.” i 1 “Who’ve you got?” i— “-The blackguard that robbed us.” “Good!” said November. “Who JS ft?” < Took at hftnl T ’ Thompson' banged open the office door and showed us ' the manager, Close, sitting on a chair by the Are, looking a good deal dis- | beveled. i “Mr. Close?” exclaimed November. I “Yes, the boss—no other!” ; “Got evidence?” inquired November, staring at Close. “Tiptop! No one seen him from dark to dawn. And we got the boots. Found ’em in a biscuit tin on a shelf in the shanty just behind here where he sleeps.” " . “You fool! I was at my accounts all night!” cried Close to Thompson. November took no notice. “Who found the boots?” said he. “Cookee, when he was cleaning up. Found a bottle of sleeping stuff, too-

nearly emptyT” shouted two or three together. November whistled. "Good for Cookee. Has he owned up?’’ he nod, ded at Close. “Was they your boots, Mr. Close?” < f' “Yes,” roared Close. “But be denies the robbery!” said Thompson excitedly. “Of cqurse 1 deny it!” cried Close. “Let’s see them boots,” put in No vember. “The boys took 'em to the bunk house,” said Thompson. “Say, Nov. think of him paying us with one hand and robbing us with the other, the’’— “Wonderful!” observed November in his dry way. He continued to' stare hard at Close, who at last looked up. and I could have sworn I saw November Joe’s dark lashed eyelid droop slightly in his direction. A change came over the manager “Get out of here,” he cried angrily. “Get out of here, you and your woods detective!” and some uncommonly warm language charged out at the back of the closing door. The men who-had been robbed and their comrades closed round as November examined the boots. “Seventeen in one heel and fifteen in the other—cowhide boots,” said Chris. “That’s what he that robbed us wore, and I’ll swear to that” “I could swear to it too,” agreed November. “Take them and the sleeping stuff,” pursued Chris. “It’s a silver fox skin to a red on a conviction, eh, Novem berT” “Have you sent for the police?" “Not yet We’d waited till you come up. We’ll send now.” “The sooner the better,” said November. “And whoever goes’ll find four chaps from Camp B in the hut by Tideson’s bridge. They’ve orders to knock it down and take the roof off and carry the.fjtove into D.” I listened to November making this astonishing statement, and I hoped 1 showed no surprise. What on earth was the game that he was playing? “Hurry up, boys, and send for the police or there may be trouble. Who’s going?”

“I don’t mind if I go,” offered Chris. “I’ll start right now. The sooner we get Mr.—Close safe in jail the better.” We all saw Chris off, and then the men took us back into the bunk house, where they talked and argued for an hour. November bad relapsed Into his usual taciturnity. But when at length he spoke again his words acted like a bombshell. “Say, boys,” he said, and thp cadence of his accent was very marked, “it’s about time we let the boss out.” Every head jerked round in his direction. “Let him out?” shouted a dozen voices. “Before the police come?” “Best" so,” replied November in his gentle manner. “You see, it wasn’t him held you up. boys.” “Who was it then?” November stood up. “Come, and I’ll show you.” Finally four of us boarded the big canoe and set off. I lost all sense of direction in the darkness until we came out on the banks of the brook near Tideson’s bridge. We crossed, and all four of us crouched in the shadow of a big rock not twenty yards from the hut We had been forewarned by .November to keep very quiet and to watch the hut. The pale forelights of dawn were already in the air when I felt Novem ber move slightly, and a moment later I heard a stick break, then footfalls on the bridge. A bluish shadow came cautiously down the bank, hesitating at every step, but always approaching the hut, until at last it passed within It Then a match flared inside. I saw it pass the broken window. There was a pause. The door creaked faintly and the figure stole out again. I put out my hands toward Novem ber—he was gone.

Meantime the figure from the hut was moving up the path to the road and a second figure was gaining on him. 1 recognized November’s mighty outlines as he followed with arms out stretched. Then the arms fell, and there was a cry, almost a shriek. When we ran up November was hold ing Chris struggling on the ground. “Search him, boys,” said November. “He’s got the stuff on him.” Thompson’s big hand dived into the breast of Chris’ shirt and when it came out again it held a bundle of notes. “You smart cuss!” said Chris to No vember Joe. , A few busy hours followed, and it was the next afternoon before 1 found myself_agaln at November’s shinty and asked for the explanations which had been promised me. “The moment I heard Thompson’s story," began November, “it started me-tbinking a bit. You remember how plain they saw the tracks of the rob ber. the size, the patch, the exact hum *ber of nails It sort of seemed that a road agent who went around in a pair of boots like that w’as maybe a fool- or maybe laying a false trail. As soon as I saw the tracks I knew I wasn’t far out as to-the false trail. The chap wanted the tracks seen. He walked’ more’n once’qn the soft -ground a-pur pose.” “Then he wasn’t a heavy man, any way,” I put in. “You thought”“How did-I know he was a light Well, you saw those stones I showed you He put them in a patfk or something and carried ’em to nurke them heavy tracks. I guessed from the set out one of them six bad done it,” ■ “But how?" “See, here’s the way of ft. I susplcloned some one in 0 from Dan Michaels’ case. And look at those five holdups last year. Each one was done within ten miles of C. That showed me that the robber, whoever he was.

couldn’t operate far from camp. Then the drugging settled It Don’t you remember the kettle haft nothing in It?” I would have spoken, but November held up his hand. “No, I know Thompson hadn’t filled it but he hadn’t cleaned.it either. We woods chaps always leave the tea

leaves in the kettle till we want to boll up the next brew. So it looked queer that- some one had washed out that kettle. Now, if the robber come from outside he’d never do that ho need to. He’d be gone afore they could suspect the kettle. No, that clean kettle said plain as speaking that It was one of the six. “Now/’ went on November, “when I knew that I knew a good bit and when I saw the scratches on the rock I was able to settle up the whole caboodle—Chris put that stuff in the tea, and as soon as it sent them off asleep he picked the money off them. Then he went down to the brook, taking the kettle, the big boots and something to hold a pack of stones with him. He waded out to that flat rock and washed out the kettle; then he filled up his pack with stones and put on the boss’ big boots. After that he had no more to do but to walk up to the hut and back again, laying the false trail. After that he waded out to the rock again, so as to leave no tracks, and changed back into his own moccasins, went to the but and to sleep.” “But the scratches on the rock? What made them?” “The nails in the boots. Chris drew up his feet to fasten up the boots and the nails slipped a bit on the rock.” “But the time, November. You said the robbery was done between 2 and 3in the morning. How did you know that?” “By the birches. He’d turn to the light to put on his boots, and the moon only rose above them-trees about 2. Till then that side of the rock was in black shadow.” “And the stones in the pack?” “The bee! tracks was good and marked. You yourself noticed how the chap walked on his heels?” “Yes.” “That told me. A man with a weight upon his back always does it And when I saw the stones that had been raked up out of the river bed why, there It was like print and i plainer—that the robber was a light than. That got me as far as> to know it was one of two men di>t It. Chris and Bill Mavers isn’t sizable either of them; they’re smallish made. It were one or other 1 knew. Then whichever it was after he got the money whatbld be do with it?” “Took it with him or hid it,” said I, as November seemed to expect a reply. “When 1 comes to think it over I was pretty sure he hid it, cos If there’d happened to be any argument or quarrel or trouble about it there might ’a’ been a search. and if the notes had ’a’ been found on one of them they’d have dropped him sure. Next point was where did he hide it? There was the rocks and the river bank and the hut. But it was all notes, therefore the place’d have to be dt*y. so 1 pitches on the hut. That was right. Mr Qnaritch?” j “1 couldnT have guessed better my . self.” I said, smiling. j November nodded "So up we goes I to C. and there we finds them mossbacks accusing the boss Chris put the boots back in the shack and the bottle on the shelf. An old grudge made him do It But 1 couldn’t tell ' which of the two small chaps it was l at that time. So I set the trap about the lumbermen breaking up the hut, and Chris walks into that He knew if the hut was took down the notes ’ud be found. You’d think the ground was hot under him until he starts to bring the police, and him the laziest fellow in C! The mini’.q, he offered to go I j knew I had him.” ’ “And you still think Chris robbed i Dan?” „ “I know it. There was $127 that ‘ can’t be accounted for in the,bundle j we took off him, and $127 is just what Mr. Close paid Dan.” * (TO BE CONTINUED)

November Had Reached a Large Flat Stone.

Then the Arms Fell and There Was a Cry, Almost a Shriek.