"Reginald Maltravers' pursuit of you, Lady Agatha, led him to Fairport," went on the great sleuth."No doubt he met the driver of the vehicle which brought you hither, and learned that you and Elmer had been set down in this neighborhood, just as Miss Pringle learned it.No doubt it was well after dark when he arrived in the vicinity of the Jasper B.And it is to be supposed that, once out here, he went to Morris's road house, thinking it quite likely that you and Elmer would stop there, as he had been tracking you from road house to road house.Logan Black, knowing that the authorities were on his trail, mistook Reginald Maltravers for a detective, and held him prisoner at Morris's.Logan Black's men took away his clothes in order to minimize the possibility of his escape.""And the Earl of Claiborne's signet ring--" began Cleggett.
"Of course, Reginald Maltravers was wearing it, and of course they took his valuables from him," said Barnstable."One of the ruffians was wearing the ring as he approached your vessel with a bomb.But, Mr.Cleggett, there are points about that bomb explosion which I do not understand.""Nor I," admitted Cleggett.
"We will clear them up later," said the great detective, smiling benignly at his thumbs, which he was revolving slowly about each other as he reconstructed the case.
"Later!" smiled Barton Ward."Later!" murmured Watson Bard.With their hands clasped over their stomachs, they, too, benignly twirled their thumbs.
"Tonight," pursued Barnstable, "having finally got all the information I wished from Dopey Eddie and Izzy the Cat with regard to Logan Black, I tossed them the key to their irons and told them to unlock themselves andclear out.It was just before the storm began, and they were sitting on the bank of the canal at the time.I allowed them to sit there in the evenings and get the fresh air.
"But before they could unlock themselves Reginald Maltravers, who had, we must suppose, escaped from Morris's through the carelessness of one of Logan Black's subordinates, crawled up the bank of the canal, which he had swum, and made for the two gunmen, with the water dripping from his eyeglass.He had recognized them as the men who had dogged and assaulted him, and every other idea was obliterated in his desire for vengeance.
"They fled.He pursued.He caught them, and they fought.They succeeded in dropping one of the iron balls on his foot--on his bunion foot, Mr.Cleggett--crippling him."As this mention of the bunion, Miss Genevive Pringle arose with dignity, and, flinging a shawl about her shoulders, left the cabin, chin in air.She did not vouchsafe so much as one backward glance at Cleggett or the three detectives or lady Agatha as she left, but outraged propriety was expressed in every line of her figure.
"H'm," mused the detective, flushing slightly; and Watson Bard and Barton Ward also colored a little, and looked hacked.They glanced furtively at Lady Agatha, to see if she too might be offended.
"Proceed, Mr.Barnstable," she said a little impatiently."Bunions don't bother me, either mentally or physically.I am familiar with the idea of bunions.There are many bunions in the Claiborne family.""On his bunion foot, crippling him," resumed the detective, reassured."The storm came up, and still the gunmen fled, and still Reginald Maltravers pursued.I suppose, since you saw them on the west side of the canal, Mr.Cleggett, that they had run around the north end of it.Probably, while you and Logan Black were fighting, they were running up and down in the neighborhood, in the storm, intent only upon their own feud.""They certainly seemed exhausted when I saw them," said Cleggett,"all three of them.But if you will permit me to say so, the astuteness with which you are reconstructing this case compels my admiration."Wilton Barnstable bowed, and Barton Ward and Watson Bard slightly inclined their heads.
"Your skill," said Lady Agatha, "is equal to that of Sherlock Holmes." At the name of Sherlock Holmes a shade passed over the face ofWilton Barnstable.He slightly compressed his lips, and his eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch.This shade was reflected on the faces of Barton Ward and Watson Bard.There was a moment of silence, but presently Wilton Barnstable continued, repressing a sigh:
"I thought at first, Mr.Cleggett, that you were an ally of Logan Black's, just as you believed me to be his ally, and as he believed you and me to be working together.It may interest you to know that smuggling has been one of his side lines.There is, somewhere hereabouts, a cave in which smuggled goods are stored.These coasts have a sinister history, Mr.Cleggett.It is possible that your canal boat--I beg your pardon, your schooner, Mr.Cleggett--played some part in their smuggling operations.At any rate it is evident that Logan Black transferred to the hold of this vessel the incriminating evidence against him, contained in that oblong box, when he learned that my agents were watching Morris's.The JasperB.has been lying in her present position for a long time.In the event that a sudden get-away from Morris's became necessary, it was an advantage to Logan Black to be able to leave without being hampered with this matter.No one, for many years, had paid any attention to the Jasper B., with the exception of the old truck farmer, Abernethy, who used sometimes to fish from her deck, and--""Truck farmer!" cried Cleggett."Abernethy?" "Truck farmer," repeated Wilton Barnstable.
"Is not Abernethy an old sea captain?" asked Cleggett.
"Why, no, I believe not," said Barnstable."At least I never heard so.He is well known as a small truck gardener in this neighborhood.It is true that he comes of a seafaring family--indeed, it is his boast.But, in acommunity where nearly everyone knows a little about boats, I believe that Abernethy is remarkable for an indisposition to venture far from shore.""I can scarcely believe it," breathed Cleggett.
