rear of the porch, so as not to be disturbed. Jack told his story and Paul and Ken listened gravely, interrupting every once in a while for some detailed information. They sat so closely together, listened so attentively to the narrative, that an outsider seeing them would have taken them for conspirators. In a sense they were that: they were conspiring on how to capture and rid the neighborhood of a maniac. When Jack had at last concluded, Ken let out a long whistle. Paul whispered, “That proves all my suspicions.”
“Wait a minute,” said Ken. “Let’s re-consider the whole situation. Both of you seem to have the impression that the man is a maniac, crazy. But how do you know that he didn’t contrive the whole thing just to put on a show for Jack’s sake? How do you know what the man was up to? He might have realized that he was being followed and to mislead Jack, he performed a mighty interesting show. We don’t know whether this man is guilty of burning down that house and before we are sure of it, let’s not pass judgement.”
There was silence. Those statements provided plenty of food for thought and all three of them knitted their brows. Paul said, “What you say is true, Ken. Of course, we must not pass judgement hastily. However, somehow I feel that my suspicions are correct.”
Jack nodded. “I feel the same way about it,” he offered as his opinion.
“At any rate,” argued Ken, “let’s wait and see. You say that you would recognize him if you saw him again—”
“Absolutely,” asserted Jack interrupting. “I could pick him out of a million men.”
“Very well, then. In that case, we will watch out for him. In the meanwhile, I suggest that the first thing tomorrow morning we go over to Water Street and examine the place. Perhaps we will find some sort of clue, his footprints if nothing else.”
“It’s too bad we can’t go there tonight,” said Jack.
“No. For one thing, it is too late. And secondly if someone noticed us there tonight, we would be under suspicion. And that would make everything perfect.”
“That’s settled, then,” remarked Ken as he rose. “I am going home. Coming, Jack?”
“Yes. Goodnight, Paul.”
“Goodnight. See you fellows tomorrow morning.”
“Righto!”
CHAPTER VI
The following morning, immediately after breakfast, the three boys met and set off for Water Street. At the scene of the fire, Jack pointed out the approximate spot where the man had sat and wept. Searching for footprints, they found many, most of them indistinct and smudged. They continued their search for other possible clues but found none. In the midst of their searchings, however, Paul looking up thought he saw a flitting shadow duck behind a fence across the street. Making believe that he saw nothing, he bent over and continued his investigations; however, he had his eyes glued to the spot. And sure enough, he saw a head protrude. He was amazed. Was it possible that someone was spying on them? Was it possible that the person Jack had followed the evening before had now turned around and was following them?
He called the two boys over. Pretending that he was explaining to them the outline of a footprint, he told them in a few words, of his discovery. “Don’t look now,” he warned his friends; “and don’t both look at the same time.”
Ken joked, saying, “I hope this thing hasn’t got you so that you are beginning to see things.”
“Don’t be funny,” remarked Paul seriously. “Suppose you fellows move off now. Keep an eye on the spot I pointed out to you and don’t give yourselves away.”
The boys separated and pretended to be absorbed in their investigations. They kept this up for about five minutes and then Paul called them and they walked away. “Well?” he asked anxiously.
Jack nodded. “You are right,” he whispered. “I also saw the head protruding from behind the fence watching us.”
“What about you, Ken? Did you see anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I am not as eagle-eyed as you two. I saw nothing suspicious.”
“But I saw him watching us several times,” insisted Paul.
“I saw him only once,” added Jack.
“Well, you two may be right and I wrong,” commented the third companion.
“Who do you think it could be?” asked Jack. “And what do you think his purpose is?”
“How should I know?”
“Do you think it is that man I followed last night?”
Paul hesitated for a moment then shook his head. “No, and I will tell you why. The person you followed last night was tall and gaunt. This individual appeared to me to be about average height and robust. I could tell that from the shadow.”
“Shall I turn around and see if we are being followed?” asked Ken.
“No, don’t do that,” warned Paul. “He might catch on that we know we are being followed. I have a better plan.”
“What?”
“When we get to Main Street, you, Ken, will turn right, wave to us, make believe as though you are saying goodbye. Jack and I will turn left and pretend that we are going home. But instead of actually walking off, Ken, you will dash into a doorway and watch to see if anyone is following us.”
“And if there is?” asked Ken.
“Then you will follow him, naturally,” was Paul’s answer.
“And if there is not?”
“Then you will take a roundabout route and meet us in my house in about half an hour.”
“All right. I’ll do that.”
At Main Street, the group parted, one boy walking off in one direction, while the other two headed in the opposite direction. Ken, just as soon as he parted from his companions, walked to the second store from the corner, a haberdashery, and stared at the window display. Actually, however, his eyes were roaming elsewhere and he was carefully watching the corner. Some people came out of Water Street, but by the look on their faces, by their general appearance and by the fact that they seemed to know exactly which way their direction lay, Ken knew that it was not any one of them. Suddenly he caught his breath. A robust man of medium height emerged from the street and paused at the corner. He wore a light jacket and a Panama hat, the brim pulled down over his forehead.
After standing hesitantly on the corner, he turned left, seemingly bent on following Paul and Jack. Ken crossed the street and followed. The chase continued for several blocks, the man increasing his pace and Ken doing likewise. The two boys were just ahead, crossing Chestnut Street. As the man came to the corner, he turned. Ken stopped at a corner store and looked at the window display. He watched the man walk to the middle of the block and then turn into the yard of a private house. Ken scratched his head and wondered.
The two boys were awaiting him. As Ken came up the walk to the porch, Paul asked, “Well?”
Ken nodded meaningfully and the two boys were re-assured of their suspicions. Joining his companions, he muttered, “This man
