Chapter III: Under Suspicion

There was little sleep at Fort Denton that night. Two o’clock found the lights still burning brightly in Major Appleby’s quarters, where most of the officers of the post were assembled. Conspicuous by his absence from this gathering, however, was the adjutant, Captain Grail. He had been there at an earlier hour to join in the deliberations, but after once more making a report of the circumstances connected with Colonel Vedant’s disappearance, he somewhat stiffly withdrew. He sensed in the conference that same feeling of doubt and hostility toward him which had manifested itself in Appleby and his companions on first hearing the story, and his self-respect would not permit him to remain.

After his departure, a rather uneasy silence settled down on the council. A few pointless remarks were made, but for the most part the group devoted themselves to their cigars, and studied the pattern of the carpet.

Finally, however, Captain Dobbs, the surgeon--a bald, blunt-spoken old fellow--brought things to an issue.

“What’s the use of mincing matters?” he boomed, glancing defiantly around the circle. “Every man here believes that Grail’s at the bottom of this thing. Then why not get down to cases, instead of sitting around here like a pack of dummies?”

A little gasp, partly of relief, partly of surprise at such plain speaking, ran around the room, and everybody glanced involuntarily toward Major Appleby where he sat at the head of the table.

“H’m!” The major cleared his throat, and moved a bit uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “Without--er--going quite so far as our friend Dobbs,” he finally ventured cautiously, “I take it that no one here will deny there is some reason in what he says. We must be prudent, though, gentlemen. Remember, the honor of the army is involved.”

“Prudent! Ha!” The doctor gave a scornful cackle. “Why, the whole post has been like a whispering gallery all afternoon. I doubt if there’s a man on the reservation, from cook boy to colonel, who hasn’t been cocking his head to one side, and asking, under his breath, what there was in this business about Grail. The only person who didn’t seem to be wise to it was Grail himself. Now, let’s cut out all this innuendo and gossip, and look the facts squarely in the face. If the report that’s been going around is true, it’s unquestionably got a bearing on the affair we’re investigating; if not, the sooner we put a stopper on it and turn our searchlights in another direction, the better for all concerned. In either event, I guess the honor of the army will take care of itself.”

There was a murmur of approval as the surgeon finished speaking, followed by calls from various parts of the room for Hemingway; and eventually, in response to these demands, a flushed young lieutenant rose rather reluctantly to his feet.

“Mr. Hemingway,” the major said, “you seem to be the person best qualified to make a statement in this matter. Will you, therefore, repeat for the benefit of us all, the communication which you made in confidence to Mrs. Appleby and myself this afternoon?”

“In confidence--to Mrs. Appleby!” the doctor snorted, scarcely taking the trouble to lower his voice. “No wonder it was all over the post in less than half an hour.”

In the general eagerness to hear Hemingway, however, his growling passed unnoticed, and the young lieutenant, shifting unhappily from one foot to the other, commenced his story.

“In the first place,” he said, glancing appealingly around the circle of officers, “and as I told Major Appleby, I don’t want any one to think that I’ve been up to any sneaking or underhand business. But when a thing came right up and slapped me in the face I couldn’t help taking notice of it, especially after the colonel told all of us that he wanted us to be on our guard during the course of these experiments.”

“Cut out the excuses,” protested one of his auditors. “It’s the facts we want to get at.”

“Well, then,” cried Hemingway defiantly, “I say that Captain Grail has been having dealings with Sasaku, the Jap waiter at the mess, which are open to very grave suspicion. I am in charge of the mess this month, as you all know, and I had noticed that Grail seemed to have considerable to say to the Jap when he dropped in for his meals; but I never attached any importance to the matter until to-day at noon, when I saw him hand Sasaku a long envelope, which the latter immediately slipped under his jacket. Then, I will admit, I began to get a little worked up, for there was a certain furtiveness about the transaction which I didn’t altogether like; so, as soon as Grail left, I promptly nailed Sasaku, and demanded to know what it was the captain had given him.”

“And he lied, of course!” commented a former mess manager, out of the depths of his experience. “Probably told you that you must have been mistaken.”

“No,” returned Hemingway; “he simply informed me coolly that it was none of my business, and gave me notice that he was quitting his job.”

“Why didn’t you grab the impudent beggar, and search him?” another officer broke in.

“Well”--the lieutenant flushed again--“I didn’t want to make any blunder, don’t you know, so I decided to report the matter first to Major Appleby before taking any definite action; and by the time I got back to the mess again the Jap had cleared out, bag and baggage.”

“Cleared out! Where?”

“That’s the question.” Hemingway shook his head. “I’ve had Corporal Stone and half a dozen men out ransacking the town for him since four o’clock, and not a trace can be found. We think he must have sneaked aboard a train somehow, and got away, unless----” He paused.

“Unless,” Major Appleby pointedly finished, “his departure may have some connection with the far more serious matter of the colonel’s disappearance.”

“Has any one put this business about the Jap up to Grail?” the surgeon inquired, with a frown.

“Not directly,” Appleby admitted; “that is, unless the colonel may have mentioned it to him. He was really the only one who had an opportunity, for Grail left the post shortly after the occurrence, and did not return until nine o’clock, and from that time until they set out for the foundry the two were closeted together in the office. Vedant, however, was rather inclined to pooh-pooh the whole matter, and he may very easily have failed to speak.”

“Can any one doubt, though, that Grail knew what was in the wind?” demanded young Hemingway hotly. “Why, the very way he left us here to-night showed it. I say, too,” he insisted, “that a man who’d been caught selling secrets to a Japanese spy, and saw court-martial looming up ahead of him, couldn’t well think of a smoother plan to sidetrack inquiry and shift attention from himself than to have the colonel abducted.”

“But that would indicate that this fellow Schilder was in on the deal, too,” objected one of the officers who had not yet spoken. “And what interest could he----”

“Schilder? Pshaw! He was only a convenient tool,” interrupted Hemingway. “Believe me, he’s as much in the dark as anybody else.”

“How could the game have been worked without his connivance, though?” inquired the other.

“Humph! Trust a pack of slick Japanese to handle that all right.” Hemingway gave a toss of the head. “Knowing the colonel’s movements in advance, what would have been easier than for them to secret themselves about the foundry yard; then, at the psychological moment, cut off the lights and rush the colonel out and away. With their agility and cunning, a trick like that would be simply pie to them.”

“How do you explain this business about the note from Schilder, though?” broke in another questioner. “You think, of course, that Grail or the Jap forged the note that was received; but, if so, why doesn’t Grail show it up now, instead of making things look worse for himself with the assertion that it has disappeared?”

“Ah, that was the smoothest part of the whole deal,” declared the youthful investigator. “He knew that he was bound to be suspected, didn’t he? And he knew, too, that documentary evidence of that sort, subjected to such close examination as would naturally be given it, might lead to his detection. So what does he do but get it out of the way, and at the same time fog the issue with another touch of apparent mystery.”

His emphatic arguments began to carry weight with the rest. It was at least a solution that he offered, and, groping about in the dark as they were, they were ready to accept almost any theory that bore the color of plausibility.

“I think,” said Dobbs, the surgeon, voicing a general sentiment, “it’s about time for us to put this matter up to Grail straight, and see what he has to say for himself.”

The major summoned his striker. “My compliments to Adjutant Grail, and ask him if he can make it convenient to come here at once to answer a few questions.”

In less than five minutes the messenger was back with the astonishing reply:

“The adjutant’s compliments, sir, and he wishes to know if you care to put your request in the form of an order. If not, sir, he does not care to discuss anything with the officers to-night.”

The major grew red with indignation at the injury to his dignity, and the surgeon growled darkly that the answer bore out his suspicions. But Appleby was not a man of snapshot action, and he said, with an assumption of chilly dignity:

“Very well; say to the adjutant, with my compliments, that I shall issue no orders to-night.” Then, turning to the officers, with a portentous shrug, he added: “We will await the developments of to-morrow.”