Jones, how do you know about the
light?"
"What else but a light could you have seen, on a pitch-black night?"
counter-questioned Average Jones with a smile. "And it must have
been something unusual, or you wouldn't have dropped everything to
go to it."
"That's what!" corroborated the boy. "A kind of flame shot up from
the ground. Then it spread a little. Then it went out. And there
were people running around it."
"Ah! Some one must have got careless with the oil," observed
Average Jones.
"That fool Tuxall!" broke in Farley with an oath. "It was him
gummed the whole game."
"Mr. Tuxall, I regret to say," remarked Average Jones, "has left for
parts unknown, so the Harwick authorities inform me, probably
foreseeing a charge of arson."
"Arson?" repeated the Reverend Mr. Prentice in astonishment.
"Of course. Only oil and matches could have made a barn flare up,
after a three-days' rain, as his did. Now, Bailey, to continue.
You ran across the fields to the Tuxall place and went around--let
me see; the wind had shifted to the northeast--yes; to the northeast
of the barn and quite a distance away.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273