Part 7 (1/2)
There--it has gone.”
We continued to watch for several minutes, but it did not reappear.
Could it have been a light on the mast of a boat moving rapidly up the bay and perhaps nearer to us than we suspected? Nothing further happened, however, and we retired early, expecting to start with fresh minds on the case in the morning. Several watchmen whom Verplanck employed both on the sh.o.r.e and along the driveways were left guarding every possible entrance to the estate.
Yet the next morning as we met in the cheery east breakfast room, Verplanck's gardener came in, hat in hand, with much suppressed excitement.
In his hand he held an orange which he had found in the shrubbery underneath the windows of the house. In it was stuck a long nail and to the nail was fastened a tag.
Kennedy read it quickly.
”If this had been a bomb, you and your detectives would never have known what struck you.
”AQUAERO.”
CHAPTER V
THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY
”Good Gad, man!” exclaimed Verplanck, who had read it over Craig's shoulder. ”What do you make of THAT?”
Kennedy merely shook his head. Mrs. Verplanck was the calmest of all.
”The light,” I cried. ”You remember the light? Could it have been a signal to some one on this side of the bay, a signal light in the woods?”
”Possibly,” commented Kennedy absently, adding, ”Robbery with this fellow seems to be an art as carefully strategized as a promoter's plan or a merchant's trade campaign. I think I'll run over this morning and see if there is any trace of anything on the Carter estate.”
Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much excited, though he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck answered the call.
”Have you heard the news?” asked McNeill. ”They report this morning that that fellow must have turned up last night at Belle Aire.”
”Belle Aire? Why, man, that's fifty miles away and on the other side of the island. He was here last night,” and Verplanck related briefly the find of the morning. ”No boat could get around the island in that time and as for a car--those roads are almost impossible at night.”
”Can't help it,” returned McNeill doggedly. ”The Halstead estate out at Belle Aire was robbed last night. It's spooky all right.”
”Tell McNeill I want to see him--will meet him in the village directly,” cut in Craig before Verplanck had finished.
We bolted a hasty breakfast and in one of Verplanck's cars hurried to meet McNeill.
”What do you intend doing?” he asked helplessly, as Kennedy finished his recital of the queer doings of the night before.
”I'm going out now to look around the Carter place. Can you come along?”
”Surely,” agreed McNeill, climbing into the car. ”You know him?”
”No.”
”Then I'll introduce you. Queer chap, Carter. He's a lawyer, although I don't think he has much practice, except managing his mother's estate.”