CHAPTER SIXTEEN--THE LOST CLUE
IN his own way, Professor Ravenden possessed as keen a detectiveinstinct as Haynes himself. The variation of a shade of a moth's wing,the obscurest trait in the life-habit of some unconsidered larva form,was sufficient to set him to the trail, and sometimes with results that,to his compeers, seemed little short of marvellous. Science had beenenriched by his acumen, in several notable instances, and thousands offarmers who had never heard his name owed to him the immunity of certaincrops from the ravages of their most destructive insect enemy.
In this work the pedantic professor was a true zealot. So much did hisenthusiasm partake of the ardour of the hunt that he had found himselfin the readiest sympathy with Haynes' sharp and practical capacities.Now, for the first time, he had seen a problem in his own departmentassume an aspect of immediate and tremendous human importance. That hispart in the solution should be worked out with flawless perfection wasbecome a matter of conscience, a test of honour. Sure as he was ofhis ground, he determined to prove to the utmost, the solidity of hisfoundation.
"Have you other fences than the one which I know, built of thecretaceous rock?" he asked Johnston.
"You'll find some in the farthest lot back, I reckon," said Johnston."Look near the corners of the fence for them slabs."
"If you have a wheelbarrow," began the scientist when the otherinterrupted him.
"You wasn't thinking of going up there now, was you?"
The professor assented.
"Alone?" said Johnston. "It's gettin' toward dark, too. Hadn't I bettergo with you?"
"I shall be gone but a few moments," said the professor with someimpatience. "It was my design, in case I found any further imprints tobring back the rocks in the wheelbarrow for careful inspection."
"You go in and get your revolver, Professor," said Johnston, "and I'llhave Henkle run the barrow up there for ye."
Henkle was a young Swedish boy, known to possess no English andsuspected of having little more wits. With some difficulty he wasmade to understand what was expected of him; so, having had the barrowhandles inserted in his hard young palms, and the professor pointed outto him he patiently trudged along in the wake of the savant, out acrossthe hollows.
In a brief time the professor had found indications on half a dozen ofthe rocks. Glowing with enthusiasm, he loaded them into the barrow, andset a homeward pace, that made the sturdy little Swede gasp before hehad covered half the distance.
McDale, the reporter for one of the "yellow" papers, saw them from hiswindow, coming into the yard.
"A good chance to get something from the professor," he thought, and randown to accost him.
Henkle, the Swede boy, hung about, open-mouthed and staring stupidly.
"Go away. You're through. Skip!" said McDale, indicating dismissal witha sweeping gesture.
Unfortunately the sweep of his arm was toward the field whence the pairhad just come with their find. The tired boy uncomplainingly pickedup the handles of his barrow again and trudged away, unnoticed by theprofessor, who was now deep in the study of the first rock.
"See," he cried excitedly to McDale. "This is unquestionably the printof a smaller specimen than ours; a young pteranodon, doubtless, orperhaps a lesser sub-species."
Pretending an absorbed interest, the reporter drew out thesimple-hearted professor, who, showing rock after rock in explanation,elaborated his theory. McDale, hurrying upstairs to make his notes--hehad been afraid to "pull a pencil" on the scientist, lest he check theenthusiastic flow of ideas--ran into Eldon Smith.
"Get anything?" asked Smith, in the brief formula of the newspaperworld.
"Sunday stuff, and a corker!" said McDale. "You wouldn't want it; butit's hot stuff for us, with a scare-devil double-page drawing of thePteranodaceus Dingbattius, and Professor Ravenden's photograph as largeas we can get it."
"Pretty tough on the professor," said Eldon Smith. "He's rather a squareold party."
"Oh, I'm not going to fake him," protested the other. "And of course Iwon't guy him. That would put a crimp in the story."
"You know what his reputation will be in the scientific world, afterhe's been made to stand for a wild-eyed nightmare like this," said theother.
"Oh, he'll be down and out," agreed the dealer in sensations. "Butthat ain't my business. And the cream of it is that he believes in thisgilly-loo bird, as if he'd seen it."
Eldon Smith jumped to the window and throwing it up with a bang, leanedout into the darkness. "Did you hear that?" he cried.
McDale was beside him instantly. They stood, rigid, intent, as a faint,woeful, high-pitched scream of abject terror quivered in the still air.
Instantly the house was alive. Somebody was calling for lanterns.Another voice was shouting to Professor Ravenden to come back, to wait,not to venture out into the night without light. The two reporters, withthe Colton brothers, got to the piazza at the same time.
Meantime the shrieks grew louder. They came short and at regularintervals, with an almost mechanical effect.
"That's like hysteria," said Dick Colton. "Can anyone make out justwhere it comes from?"
As if in reply, the professor's precise accents were heard.
"This way. He is here."
There was a rush of the men. "I have him," called Professor Ravenden.
Once more the voice was raised, but subsided into a long, sobbing moan.Then the savant staggered into view, carrying the limp form of the youngSwede.
"He has fainted," he said. "He was rushing by me, quite unheeding mycall, when I caught him and he fell, as if shot. I trust he is notinjured."
"Unhurt," said Dick Colton, "but literally frightened almost to death."
Henkle came to half an hour later. No explanation could be had of him,other than a shuddering indication of some overhanging terror. Once hemade a sweeping gesture of the arms, much as had Whalley on the night ofthe wreck. The physician gave him a sleeping powder and arranged to seehim early in the morning.
He never saw the boy again. With the first light he was gone, and hislittle belongings with him. Afterward they found out that he had walkedto the station, and taken the morning train.
"There's a possible clue lost," said Dick Colton to the professor, "thatmight have helped us."
But Professor Ravenden was little concerned. He had discovered a printwhich might possibly indicate a rudimentary sixth toe on the pteranodonand he was absorbed in measurements.