Chapter III

About that time, a mile and a half to the southward, James Darragh came out on the rocky and rushing outlet to Star Pond.

Over his shoulder was a rifle, and all around him ran dogs, -- big, powerful dogs, built like foxhounds but with the rough, wiry coats of Airedales, even rougher of ear and features.

The dogs, -- half a dozen or so in number, -- seemed very tired. All ran down eagerly to the water and drank and slobbered and panted, lolling their tongues, and slaking their thirst again and again along the swirling edge of a deep trout pool.

Darragh's rifle lay in the hollow of his left arm; his khaki waistcoat was set with loops full of cartridges. From his left wrist hung a raw-hide whip.

Now he lad aside his rifle and whip, took from the pocket of his shooting coat three or four leather dog-leashes, went down among the dogs and coupled them up.

They followed him back to the bank above. Here he sat down on a rock and inspected his watch.

He had been seated there for ten minutes, possibly, with his tired dogs lying around him, when just above him he saw a State Trooper emerge from the woods on foot, carrying a rifle over one shoulder.

"Jack!" he called in a guarded voice.

Trooper Stormont turned, caught sight of Darragh, made a signal of recognition, and came toward him.

Darragh said: "Your mate, Trooper Lannis, is down stream. I've two of my own game wardens at the cross-roads, two more on the Ghost Lake Road, and two foresters and an inspector out toward Owl Marsh."

Stormont nodded, looked down at the dogs.

"This isn't the State Forest," said Darragh, smiling. Then his face grew grave: "How is Eve?" he asked.

"She's feeling better," replied Stormont. "I telephoned to Ghost Lake Inn for the hotel physician. ... I was afraid of pneumonia, Jim. Eve had chills last night. ... But Dr. Claybourn thinks she's all right. ... So I left her in care of your housekeeper."

"Mrs. Ray will look out for her. ... You haven't told Eve who I am, have you?"

"No."

"I'll tell her myself to-night. I don't know how she'll take it when she learns I'm the heir to the mortal enemy of Mike Clinch."

"I don't know either," said Stormont.

There was a silence; the State Trooper looked down at the dogs:

"What are they, Jim?"

"Otter-hounds," said Darragh, "-- a breed of my own. ... But that's _all_ they are capable of hunting, I guess," he added grimly.

Stormont's gaze questioned him.

Darragh said: "After I telephoned you this morning that a guest of mine at Harrod Place, and I, had been stuck up and robbed by Quintana's outfit, what did you do, Jack?"

"I called up Bill Lannis first," said Stormont, "-- then the doctor. After he came, Mrs. Ray arrived with a maid. Then I went in a spoke to Eve. Then I did what you suggested -- I crossed the forest diagonally toward The Scaur, zig-zagged north, turned by the rock hog-back south of Drowned Valley, came southeast, circled west, and came out here as you asked me to."

"Almost on the minute," nodded Darragh. ... "You saw no signs of Quintana's gang?"

"None."

"Well," said Darragh, "I left my two guests at Harrod Place to amuse each other, got out three couple of my otter-hounds and started them, -- as I hoped and supposed, -- on Quintana's trail."

"What happened?" inquired Stormont curiously.

"Well -- I don't know. I think they were following some of Quintana's gang -- for a while, anyway. After that, God knows, -- deer, hare, cotton-tail -- _I_ don't know. They yelled their bally heads off -- I on the run -- they're slow dogs, you know -- and whatever they were after either fooled them or there were too man trails. ... I made a mistake, that's all. These poor beasts don't know anything except an otter. I just _hoped_ they might take Quintana's trail if I put them on it."

"Well," said Stormont, "it can't be helped now. ... I told Bill Lannis that we'd rendezvous at Clinch's Dump."

"All right," nodded Darragh. "Let's keep to the open; my dogs are leashed couples."

They had been walking for twenty minutes, possibly, exchanging scarcely a word, and they were now nearing the hilly basin where star Pond lay, when Darragh said abruptly:

"I'm going to tell you about things, Jack. You've taken my word so far that it's all right----"

"Naturally," said Stormont simply.

The two men, who had been brother officers in the Great War, glanced at each other, slightly smiling.

"Here it is then," said Darragh. "When I was on duty in Riga for the Intelligence Department, I met two ladies in dire distress, whose mansion had been burned and looted, supposedly by the Bolsheviki.

"They were actually hungry an penniless; the only clothing they possessed they were wearing. These ladies were the Countess Orloff-Strelwitz, and a young girl, Theodorica, Grand Duchess of Esthonia. ... I did what I could for them. After a while, in the course of other duty, I found out that the Bolsheviki had had nothing to do with the arson and robbery, but that the crime had been perpetrated by Jose Quintana's gang of international crooks masquerading as Bolsheviki."

Stormont nodded: "I also came across similar cases," he remarked.

"Well, this was a flagrant example. Quintana had burnt the chateau and made off with over two million dollars worth of the little Grand Duchess's jewels -- among them the famous Erosite gem known as The Flaming Jewel."

"I've heard of it."

"There are only two others known. ... Well, I did what I could with the Esthonian police, who didn't believe me.

"But after a short time ago the Countess Orloff sent me word that Quintana really was the guilty one, and that he had started for America.

"I've been after him ever since. ... But, Jack, until this morning Quintana did not possess these stolen jewels, _Clinch did!_"

"What!"

"Clinch served over-seas in a Forestry Regiment. In Paris he robbed Quintana of these jewels. That's why I've been hanging around Clinch."

Stormont's face was flushed and incredulous. Then it lost colour as he thought of the jewels that Eve had concealed -- the gems for which she had risked her life.

He said: "But you tell me Quintana robbed you this morning."

"He did. The little Grand Duchess and the Countess Orloff-Strelwitz are my guests at Harrod Place.

"Last night I snatched the case containing these gems from Quintana's fingers. This morning, as I offered them to the Grand Duchess, Quintana coolly stepped between us----"

His voice became bitter and his features reddened with rage poorly controlled:

"By God, Jack, I should have shot Quintana when the opportunity offered. Twice I've had the chance. The next time I shall kill him any way I can. ... Legitimately."

"Of course," said Stormont gravely. But his mind was full of the jewels which Eve had. What an whose were they, -- if Quintana again had the Esthonian gems in his possession?

"Had you recovered all the jewels for the Grand Duchess?" he asked Darragh.

"Every one, Jack. ... Quintana has done me a terrible injury. I shan't let it go. I mean to hunt that man to the end."

Stormont, terribly perplexed, nodded.

A few minutes later, as they came out among the willows and alders on the northeast side of Star Pond, Stormont touched his comrade's arm.

"Look at that enormous dog-otter out there in the lake!"

"Grab those dogs! They'll strangle each other," cried Darragh quickly. "That's it -- unleash them, Jack, and let them go!" -- he was struggling with the other two couples while speaking.

And now the hounds, unleashed, lifted frantic voices. The very sky seemed full of the discordant tumult; wood and shore reverberated with the volume of convulsive and dissonant baying.

"Damn it," said Darragh, disgusted, "-- that's what they've been trailing all the while across-woods, -- that devilish dog-otter yonder. ... And I had hoped they were on Quintana's trail----"

A mass rush and scurry of crazed dogs nearly swept him off his feet, and both men caught a glimpse of a large bitch-otter taking to the lake from a ledge of rock just beyond.

Now the sky vibrated with the deafening outcry of the dogs, some taking to water, others racing madly along the shore.

Crack! The echo of the dog-otter's blow on the water came across to them as the beat dived.

"Well, I'm in for it now," muttered Darragh, starting along the bank toward Clinch's Dump, to keep an eye on his dogs.

Stormont followed more leisurely.

* * * * *