CHAPTER XXI THE SECRET OF THE LODGE

“Don’t move!” warned the Voice from the dark. “You can light up the lamp now, Frank.”

The man at Jake’s back felt his way a few yards to the left. The sound of a match scratched on the sole of a shoe came to Jake’s ear; a tiny yellow flame blossomed, was held to the wick of an oil-lamp. The man called Frank replaced the glass chimney of the lamp, and stepped back to his post by the door.

“Sit down, bud. You must be tired.”

Jake Utway stared across at the speaker. His new enemy sat in an armchair by a dead fireplace, calmly smoking a cigar and smiling easily.

“You’re Jake, aren’t you?” he went on. “You look so much like your brother that I feel I know you already. But no tricks, mind!” he chuckled. “That brother of yours has fooled us enough for one day—throwing the keys of the car away, just when he saw his chance to help you.”
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Never taking his eyes from the smiling man, Jake sank into a chair.

“That’s right! We’ll be heading back in a few minutes; might as well get your breath before we go. Now, Jake, you can tell me just exactly what you expected to do here at this lodge.”

“Who are you, sir?” Jake countered.

“I suppose you didn’t see me in the car when we stopped your covered wagon up the road. I happen to be warden of the Elmville Penitentiary—your friend Burk escaped from my charge, and naturally I wanted to get him back again.”

“How is he—Burk?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about him! He got a few buckshot in the leg, but we bandaged him up, and he’ll be walking around as good as ever in a day or two. He’s gone back with Diker and your brother some time ago.”

“Who told you I was coming here?” demanded Jake.

“Burk himself. Told me you’d been good to him, and he didn’t want you to come to harm. Very earnest about it, too. Yes, I must say I’m learning a lot about our friend Burk in these last few days.”
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Jake considered. “Have you found out that he’s not a thief?” he asked boldly.

Again the man smiled, wearily. “You’re pretty young, Jake. I admit Burk was always well-behaved when he was serving his time, and he looks like a decent sort. No doubt he told you a yarn that sounded convincing enough—why, every man at Elmville can make himself out to be a saint, if you give him a chance! But I have yet to find any proof that John Burk was not given every benefit of the doubt when his case was tried at law.”

Jake struggled upright, his eyes blazing. “It—it might be law, but is it justice? Why, sir, he—he——” The boy fell back, his strength spent. The warden jumped up and came to his side.

“Here, son—you must be worn out! Frank, get that thermos bottle of hot chocolate from the car, and have that caretaker make up some sandwiches.” He patted Jake’s shoulder. “Bet you haven’t had a thing to eat to-day. No wonder you look worn out.”

The boy closed his eyes. “I am tired, I guess. But I really mean it, sir. Burk didn’t steal that necklace any more than I did.”
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“All right. Don’t talk any more now. We’ll have some hot food for you in a minute.”

The man resumed his seat, and began puffing on his cigar in silence. As the minutes passed, Jake looked about him. The room seemed to be the main hall of the hunting lodge. Over the fireplace he made out a dim shape, the mounted head of a large buck deer. The walls were hung with Indian blankets; a case of books stood in one corner, and a rack of guns and fishing-rods in another. The place was fitted out in rough comfort, and at another time Jake might have delighted in examining everything which the sportsmen who owned the club had collected. As it was, he waited motionless until Frank reappeared with a steaming cup of chocolate, some sandwiches, and a dish of hot soup.

“Feel better now?” the warden asked, as Jake swallowed the last of the heartening liquid. The man had removed his hat, and Jake could now see that his hair was snow-white. “If you’re ready for a ride, there’s nothing to keep us here any longer.”
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“But—but, sir, give me a chance to explain!” The warm food had brought back much of Jake’s strength, and with it his fighting spirit. If they departed from Canoe Mountain Lodge now, there would never be another opportunity to clear up the mystery of the necklace, and Burk would be worse off than before. Here, if anywhere, lay the heart of that mystery, and although Jake Utway had no clear idea as to the way of its solution, he felt that the walls of the lodge must contain some clue that would lead them to the truth.

The warden shook his head patiently. “You fellows have risked everything to get to this place, but Burk himself confessed to me awhile ago that he had no definite aim in view, except to hunt around some more for that necklace. What can you know that he doesn’t know?”

Jake stood up. Strength was flooding back into his aching body, and he spoke with a confidence that could not fail to impress the white-haired man. It was a confidence based not upon reason, but upon the boy’s feeling that Burk had spoken the truth. Into his mind flashed the picture of that night of storm across the lake from the Lenape dock; he could almost see the convict’s drawn face, and hear the earnest ring of his voice as he told his story to his two young captors——
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“Mr. Warden,” he began, “I feel sure that you know there’s something strange about this case of Burk’s; otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken so much trouble to talk to him after you caught him, or to come here and wait for me. You believe that the law is right, but you’re not sure in your mind that a mistake hasn’t been made; and you want to be fair to Burk and give him a chance to prove that there has been a mistake. Isn’t that right?”

The jollity of the warden’s face dropped from it like a mask. He leaned forward, and his cigar dropped from his fingers.

“That might be so, son. But——”

“You’ve asked yourself: Why didn’t Burk get far away from this part of the country when he had the chance? Why did he risk getting caught, as he was caught, simply to come here to Canoe Mountain, if he knew he was guilty?”

The warden leaned back again. “That’s easily explained, Jake. Many times a man will give way to temptation, and steal something of great value. Even if he’s caught, he will refuse to tell where he has hidden the thing, hoping that when he gets out of prison he will be able to come back, take the object from its hiding-place, and sell it for what he can get. Burk knew where he had hidden the necklace, and was coming back to get it.”
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“Suppose I could prove to you that Burk didn’t know where he put it?”

The man smiled, and shook his head. “That would be a mighty hard thing to prove. But if you could do that, and the necklace was restored to its owner, it might make some difference——”

“All right. Now, here’s another thing. Why should Burk steal that necklace? He had never done anything like that before. He had a good job, which he liked, and as caretaker here had been in a position of trust. He must have known that he would be caught at once. He might have run away with the pearls in Mr. Collinge’s absence; but he was still here, and didn’t try to get away. He has said all along that he was innocent. The disappearance of the necklace has brought him nothing but trouble. Why should he risk ruining his whole life to take it?”

“You’d make a good lawyer, Jake!” the man said slowly. “Hear that, Frank? The lad is convincing me in spite of myself. But you haven’t answered the big question, Bud: What did happen to that necklace?”
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“I’m coming to that.” Jake’s words were coming out in a rush now. He must make them understand; he must prove to them that his friend Burk, by this time no doubt back again in his hated cage, was blameless of this crime. “What happened to the necklace? The answer is: Burk was sick. Have you ever had the ’flu? Then you can picture what happened to him that day. He was out of his head. His one thought must have been to put the thing in a safe place, and then lie down on his bed in peace. Can you blame him for not being able to remember what he had done, or where he hid the thing?”

“But why wasn’t it found?” the man asked quickly. “A valuable thing like a necklace doesn’t disappear so easily. And the case was well-known; why, I’ll venture to say that this whole place here has been gone over with a fine-tooth comb at least a dozen times in the past year! And as far as we know, the necklace has never been found.”

Jake cast his eyes about the large room, noting where several doors led off to the back of the lodge. “Tell me, sir,” he said at last; “if the necklace could be found, and if it could be proved that Burk was sick and didn’t know what he had done with it—that he had hidden it for safekeeping, and not for his own gain—would Burk be set free?”
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“I could safely say,” said the warden, “that if such was the case, the facts would be put before the Pardon Board, and I myself would make a point of urging that Burk be released. But you can see for yourself that it’s an almost impossible job. Now, let’s forget all this foolishness, and start back. It’s getting late.”

Jake did not move. “Did you say that the man who is now the caretaker is in back somewhere?”

“Yes, he is, but——”

“Could I talk to him, please?”

The warden opened his mouth as if to object, but thought better of it, and in a forbearing tone asked the chauffeur, Frank, to call the caretaker.

The latter must have been just outside the door, in the kitchen of the lodge, for he shambled in at once, looking with curious eyes at the strangers who had invaded his domain in the name of the law. He was a bent little man, with a drooping brown mustache, and he stood in silence, resting on one foot, waiting for someone to speak.

Jake faced him. “Can you show me the room where Burk used to sleep, when he was working here?”

The caretaker darted a look at the warden, who motioned for him to answer. “Wal, yes, guess I can. Sleep there myself; my room now.”
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He led the way toward the rear of the building, and the others followed, with Frank bearing the oil-lamp behind them. The room which they entered lay in the far corner of the lodge, a narrow little place with brown boarded walls, within which there was barely space enough for a small cot-bed, a chair, and a tiny dresser. The warden surveyed the room curiously, but Jake went straight to the bed, and turned down the covers. Then he wheeled on the caretaker.

“Is this bed the same as when Burk was here?” he asked sharply.

“Wal, just about. Covers are the same, mostly, but that there’s a new mattress I just got last week.”

“Where’s the old mattress?”

“Chucked it outside on the woodpile. Why?”

Jake Utway did not pause to reply. In an instant he was into the hall, racing through the lighted kitchen, and out the back door.

“Stop him!” shouted the warden. “Get him, Frank! It’s another trick!”
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But Jake had gone no farther than the woodpile. In the light that streamed from the open kitchen window, he was feeling about among the wreckage of a worn-out cotton mattress, which had been thrown upon the heap of firewood in the rear of the lodge. Frank, still carrying the lamp, held his arm until the warden and the caretaker joined them.

“Let me go!” cried Jake impatiently. “Hold that lamp down closer, will you? I can’t see very well——”

“What in the world——” began the warden. His words were cut short. Jake had found a short slit in the heavy striped ticking that encased the stuffing of the old mattress. His hand slid through; he felt about for a moment, and drew his hand out again. In the yellow light of the lamp, everyone could see the object which dangled from his clenched fingers. A short string of gleaming, milky-white bubbles flashed before the astounded eyes of the three men.

“It was a long guess, but it was right!” exclaimed Jake Utway in triumph. “Here’s the pearl necklace, safe and sound! Burk wouldn’t have put it away in a place like this, if he hadn’t been sick, and it was the first place he thought of hiding them! And now, Mr. Warden—I’ll hold you to your promise to do all you can to set John Burk free!”