CHAPTER XXII
CLUES
THE money was gone from the drawer; boxes, tins, and packages had been pulled from the shelves, examined, and either tossed helter-skelter back or left upon the counters, and on every side lay evidence of the burglar’s depredations.
“I said we oughtn’t to leave the money here,” wailed Harry.
Chub didn’t reply. He had seated himself on a box and was frowning dejectedly about him.
“Who do you suppose did it?” asked Harry.
“I don’t know who did it, but I know how it was done,” answered Chub. He pointed to the door into the back yard. The panel nearest the lock had been splintered in, and the marauder had evidently thrust his hand through and turned the key from the inside.
“What shall we say when Mrs. Peel comes?” asked Harry, miserably.
“Tell her the store’s been broken into and burglarized,” answered Chub, stolidly. “I’ll make up the money they stole, but I don’t think I ought to pay for the goods taken. And I imagine, from the looks of things, that the robbers took more than twelve dollars’ worth of stuff with them.”
“That’s the worst of it,” mourned Harry. “We can make up the money between us, for you know very well, Chub, we aren’t going to let you pay it all, but we can’t pay for the groceries and things.”
“We haven’t even any way of finding out how much they are worth,” replied Chub. “I suppose I’d better report the robbery to some one. I wonder where the nearest police station is.”
He got up and walked to the back door, Harry following him, and examined it.
“Looks as though some one had just kicked his foot through it, doesn’t it?” he asked. “And here he goes—hello, there must have been two of them! You can see the footprints, Harry. They just climbed the fence here, walked across to the door, and smashed it in so that one of them could put his hand through and turn the key. And here’s a match.” He picked it up, examined it, and dropped it into his pocket. “They lighted a candle or something—”
“There’s a candle over there beside the barrel,” said Harry. Chub picked it up.
“If it was a new one when they lighted it,” he said, “they must have been in here a good long time. I don’t believe a candle burns down that much in less than twenty minutes or half an hour. I wonder—”
He broke off and walked to one of the shelves. A new box of tallow candles had been dragged from its place, and one candle was missing from the top layer. Between the counter and the door he picked up four more matches and added them to the one in his pocket.
“I don’t suppose,” he said thoughtfully, “that they’ve got any police around here who could catch these fellows in a hundred years. So I guess it doesn’t make much difference whether we report the robbery to-day or next week.”
“Oh, but we ought to tell some one right away, Chub,” exclaimed Harry.
“Well, I’m going to look around first, anyway. We ought to get some idea of what’s been taken. I’m glad I locked the door into the living-rooms. Here’s the key just where I put it.”
He started around the store, looking into displaced boxes and cans and returning them to their places. Presently Harry got a piece of paper and began to put down a list of the things which they believed had been taken.
“There were more sides of bacon than this,” said Chub.
“There were seven,” said Harry. “I noticed yesterday. They’ve stolen four.”
“Put it down,” said Chub. “And they’ve made a big hole here in the canned things. Looks to me as though they’d taken about two dozen cans. You can see where they took peaches and green-gage plums. Let’s see; put down six of each, Harry, and about a dozen more assorted—tomatoes, beans, and other truck. And sardines, I guess; I don’t know how many; say three or four. That’s all they took here, I think.”
He worked around the store, examining, tidying, and replacing, Harry following anxiously with her paper and pencil. When they had finished they breathed easier. It seemed that the robbers had confined themselves entirely to bacon and canned goods, although, as Chub allowed, they might have helped themselves to other things in small quantities for all they knew. But at most the value of the things taken would foot up well under ten dollars.
“Don’t see why they didn’t take more,” mused Chub. “They had all the time they wanted, apparently.”
“Maybe they had to carry the things a long way,” Harry suggested. Chub shot a questioning glance at her.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Why, they might live a long way off,” Harry explained. “I don’t believe it was any one who lives here, do you?”
“No, I don’t. It might have been a couple of tramps. The railroad isn’t more than a quarter of a mile from here, and they may have been walking along the track and got hungry and came over to see what they could find. Only, how’d they know there was no one at home here?”
“That’s so,” murmured Harry. “It looks as though it must have been some one who knew that Mrs. Peel was away, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” answered Chub, thoughtfully. “Well, whoever they were, they cleaned up the cash-drawer.” He walked over to it and stared into it, hands in pocket. “There ought to have been a lock on it, though I don’t suppose that would have kept them out.” He turned away, and as he did so something white on the floor under the counter caught his eye. Picking it up, he bore it to the light. It proved to be a crumpled wad of papers. Chub smoothed them out, revealing Harry’s memoranda of sales, the letter to Jennie, and the letter to Mrs. Peel. Both envelopes had been torn open.
“Guess they thought there might be money in them,” said Chub. Then—“Look here, Harry,” he said, “I’m going to read this one to Jennie and see if Mrs. Peel says when she’s coming back. Under the circumstances I think it’s allowable, don’t you?”
“Yes,” answered Harry. “I do. Because she ought to know what’s happened, and if she isn’t coming to-day or to-morrow we must write to her.”
So Chub opened the letter and read it aloud:
“Your aff. aunt,
“When was it written?” asked Harry.
“Day before yesterday,” Chub answered. “That means that she will be back to-day. Well, all the better. I’ve had about all the storekeeping I want.”
“So have I,” said Harry, dolefully. “And it was such good fun until this morning, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t bad. You stay here, and I’ll see if I can find out where the nearest station is. You aren’t afraid, are you?”
“N—no,” answered Harry, “I’ll stay near the door.”
She had no chance to be lonesome, for ten minutes after Chub left, almost the entire population of the village had appeared on the scene, eager for details of the robbery, anxious to see the broken door, and highly curious about Harry. Meanwhile Chub, seated behind Cæsar and beside Bennie Hooper, was being taken to Washington Hills and the sheriff. Chub found the sheriff in the middle of a horse trade in front of the livery-stable. When, however, he had stated his errand the horse trade was adjourned, and the sheriff followed Chub and Bennie back to the scene of the robbery in his side-bar buggy.
The sheriff was a young, alert man, and Chub had to own that he seemed quite intelligent. But he didn’t offer them much hope.
“I reckon,” he said, after he had looked over the premises and heard all the particulars they could give him, “that whoever done this job has got away before this. Tramps, likely as not. It looks like their sort of work; bungly, you see; took no pains to hide their tracks. They was hungry and couldn’t find any place that looked more promising. Probably had a gunny-sack and filled it, and then went back to the railroad. The old lady was lucky they didn’t take more.”
“But doesn’t it seem funny,” asked Chub, “that they should know the place was empty?”
“Well, you left a note on the door, didn’t you? Maybe they prowled around, found that, didn’t see any lights, and concluded they’d take a chance. Probably they tried the windows and couldn’t open ’em without breaking the glass, and then went around back. Well, I’ll see what can be done. But I guess it’s a hopeless job. Like as not they’re ten miles or even twenty miles away by now. Maybe they caught a freight. But I’ll telegraph up and down the road. You leave it to me, sir. Tell Mrs. Peel I’ll let her know if anything comes up.”
He climbed into his buggy and was off again. They watched him go and then locked the store and went back to the boat. It was almost noon, and Dick and Roy had just returned after a fruitful journey to the neighboring farm.
“We got eggs and chickens and corn and beets and peas and a whole half-gallon of milk!” called Dick, jubilantly. “And some little round squashes that you fry in bread-crumbs.”
“Didn’t you bring the things from the store?” asked Roy.
“No,” Chub answered.
“Why not?”
“Well, I guess we sort of forgot them. Some one broke into the store last night and stole the money and a lot of groceries.”
Presently, when Roy and Dick had heard all there was to hear, Chub decoyed Roy to the tent, out of hearing of Harry.
“I say, Roy,” he began, “do you remember the other night when we found those cans of peaches on the bed?”
“Sure,” answered Roy.
“Remember we found a lot of matches on the floor?”
“Yes.”
“Remember what sort they were?”
“What sort? No, just matches, weren’t they?”
“Parlor matches?”
“Um—no, they were what we used to call ‘all-day matches,’ the kind that come in cards and have to be broken off.”
“Exactly, sulphur matches,” agreed Chub. “Well, look at these.” He drew five burnt matches from his pocket and held them out.
“Yes, I see,” said Roy. “Look like the same kind, don’t they? You think, then, that the fellow that Harry saw at her window is the same fellow that robbed the store?”
“I think he was one of them,” answered Chub, decidedly. “Besides, he tried to steal canned fruit from us, and they took about two dozen cans of it last night.”
“That’s so. Who do you think did it?”
“I don’t know, but—I’ve been wondering—I say, how far do you think it is to where those Gipsies are?”
“About two miles, I should say. Now, that’s it, Chub! I’ll wager they did it!”
“Well, that’s what I think,” said Chub. “Now, look here. After dinner you and Dick had better go back to the store with Harry and be there when Mrs. Peel comes. I’ll give you a check to replace the stolen money. She won’t lose that, anyway.”
“Oh, we’ll all contribute to that,” said Roy. “I don’t know that we’re bound to replace it, though. We didn’t steal it.”
“No, but I’d feel better if we did. You fellows needn’t help, though; I’ve got enough to pay for it all.”
“Nonsense; we’ll go thirds on it. But what are you going to do?”
“Go fishing,” answered Chub, with a grin.
“Fishing?”
“Yes, up near where the Gipsies are camped.”
“Pshaw, you can’t find anything, Chub!”
“I don’t suppose I can,” replied Chub, musingly, “but—well, it won’t do any harm to have a look around.”
“Let me go with you,” said Roy, eagerly. But Chub shook his head.
“No, I’ll go alone. I want to look around the camp a bit, and they won’t think much of it if I stumble in there alone.”
“Don’t think they’ll act badly, do you?” asked Roy, uneasily.
“No; why should they? They won’t know what I’m up to. Maybe they won’t see me. We’d better not let Harry know anything about it, though, because she still thinks she may have dreamed that chap at her window. If she knows it really was a man, she’ll be scared to death all the rest of the time we’re here.”
“I don’t see what we want to stay here for, anyhow,” said Roy, disgustedly. “The fishing’s absolutely no good.”
“Well, I think we’ll move on to-morrow. It would have saved us money if we’d gone before. There’s the doctor coming back. I’ll tell him about it now, so Harry won’t know.”
“Too bad, too bad!” said the doctor, when Chub had told his story. “But I wouldn’t let it worry me much. As for the money, why, we can fix that up easily enough among ourselves. I don’t believe I’d run any risks, Chub, by poking my head into that Gipsy camp. They’re an evil-looking lot. I came by there this morning again after I’d caught these.” He looked down ruefully at the string of five small trout which he carried.
“I don’t think there’s any danger, sir,” answered Chub. “Don’t worry; I’ll be back long before supper-time.”
But Chub was mistaken there.