The Lonely House

CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF EVIL.-2

Then after dark he thought the lights were kept burning much later in the scattered homes among the hills and upon two nights he had finally dropped off to sleep with some of them still shining. Also at dusk once, when he had been creeping as usual to the spring for water, a dog somewhere had heard him and barked, and immediately three men had rushed out of a nearby homestead, and for quite a long while had stood staring round in every direction. About this last episode the detective had been greatly annoyed, for it had made him about an hour late in filling his can.

So had things been up to that last night when, shortly after eleven o'clock he again took to the road.

He had provided himself with a map of South Australia, and he had a good idea of the lie of the land. It was his intention to make for a lonely stretch of coast near Cape Jervis, a part apparently untouched by roads or tracks in any direction. He reckoned he had about eighty miles to cover, and he was expecting to do it comfortably in the travelling of two nights.

But he soon found he had greatly miscalculated his chance of progress and he was hindered and delayed from the very beginning. Before even he had gone half a mile from his bivouac on Mount Lofty, he had had to lift his bicycle hurriedly off the road and hide himself in the thickets.

Two men had come by very slowly, and he was surprised to notice that, although there was a new moon, they both were carrying lanterns.

A mile farther on and a man was leaning over some fencing, for all the world as if he were waiting for someone, and it was an hour nearly before he finally turned and went into the house that lay close behind. Quite half a dozen times during the night, too, he saw people moving about, and each time he had to wait until the road was clear. Morning found him only about thirty miles from the city and he had to hide during all the day in a clump of trees not three hundred yards from the outlying houses of a small township.

The next night, however, he made a little better progress, but it was not until dawn was breaking on the third day that he found himself at the place for which he had originally set out.

He was then about seven miles off the track that led to the Cape Jervis lighthouse, and for several hours he had seen no signs of human habitation.

He was on a rugged promontory of land that jutted for about half a mile into the sea. On one side the cliff was high and sheer, but on the other side the ground sloped down gently for about three hundred yards to a little sandy cove.

The place was studded everywhere about with big rocks.

"Just what I wanted," sighed the detective wearily. "I shall be all alone here. I can bathe and fish, and there's a creek of fresh water over there." He hastily unpacked his things and then, too tired to think of preparing anything to eat, he spread his ground-sheet by the side of a big rock and, making a pillow of his arm, in a few moments was fast asleep.

He slept heavily until well past high noon, and it was then only the glaring of the hot sun that awoke him.

He stood up, and, gazing interestedly around, was more pleased than ever with his surroundings. He took out his binoculars and swept the coastline in both directions as far as he could see.

"Excellent," he remarked, "I couldn't have found a better place. I can see round everywhere for miles, except for that little dip in the cliff over there. No one will be coming here, and there should be plenty of rabbits and fish. I will have a glorious time. I will rest and sleep. I will worry about nothing. I will start writing my memoirs and the world will then know what a fine fellow I am," and he rubbed his hands gleefully and laughed happily as a boy.

Methodically he proceeded to set up his camp. He lashed his little lean-to tent securely to the rock and with his small mattock dug a deep trench all round, in case it should come on to rain. Then he made himself a neat fireplace with round stones, and gathering some dried twigs together soon had a fire going and was boiling his billy.

"But I must be careful with the water," he said, shaking his head, "until I make sure about that creek over there."

His simple meal over, he set out to explore, and a quarter of a mile away found the creek as he had anticipated.

"Not too much water," he remarked, "but still it doesn't look as if it would dry up before the time comes to leave here. Besides, we may get a shower or two any day."

He had a long bathe off the sandy cove and then, after setting a few rabbit snares, retired to his tent directly it began to get dark. The exertions of the two previous days had tired him much more than he thought.

The following day dawned bright and clear and he was early astir. He found two nice young rabbits in his snares and was very pleased with his good fortune.

"Everything here I could want," he exclaimed happily. "I couldn't wish for anything more." He looked round on every side. "Alone in the great heart of nature. Alone with the sea gulls the sea, the sun, and the sky." He drew in deep breaths of the invigorating air. "Away from the foul breath of the cities, away from the sordid struggles of competing men, away from the black haunts of crime. Why I might be the only man alive in the world now. I don't suppose, year upon year, anyone ever comes here."

He walked meditatively down to the sandy cove and then it struck him suddenly that he had not yet explored down the dip in the other cliffs, the only spot that was not in view from his little tent by the big rock.

"I must go there at once," he smiled whimsically--"it is the only part of my property that I haven't yet seen." Humming lightly to himself and pausing many times to look back and enjoy the view, he climbed up over the other side of the cove. It was a stiff climb and his legs ached when he reached the top.

He sat down upon a rock, and then, his eyes roving with interest around a startled exclamation burst from his lips.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed disappointedly, "why--there's a house, and I shall be seen and lose the game," and immediately he dropped down behind the rock exactly as if he had been shot.

Very cautiously then he peered round.

The cliff in front of him sloped down to another little bay, this time, however, only about two hundred yards distant, and upon the edge of the sands below was perched a small black house.

Viewed through his binoculars, he saw that the house was quite substantially built and was square in shape. There was one large window facing in his direction and at a good height from the ground.

By the side of the house, drawn up high above the sands, lay a good-sized rowing boat.

"Whew," exclaimed the detective disgustedly. "Fishermen! Now, I wonder if they are here now?"

For an hour and longer he lay with his eyes glued to his binoculars, alternatively watching the house and sweeping round upon the cliffs on every side.

But there was no sign of life anywhere except for about a dozen seagulls which patrolled upon the sands before the house in a lively and animated manner. Satisfied at last that at any rate for the time being there was no one near, the detective pocketed his glasses and walked down to investigate closer.

The sea-gull rose up screeching as he approached and it flew to a short distance away, to resume their previous occupation of quarrelling with each other.

The house was shut up and closed by a stout nail-studded door that was securely locked.

"Hum!--an ugly house," muttered the detective, "and built quite a while ago." He smiled to himself. "But there would be no difficulty about that lock, if I were curious. Any bit of old wire would open it."

He walked round the house. It was built solidly of stone, but had a sloping wooden roof. There were no windows to it other than the one he had noticed from the cliff and that, from its position, appeared to provide light only to some kind of upper room, for it was fully twelve feet off the ground.

He stepped back several yards, hoping that from a greater distance he would be able to look into the room, but the glass of the window was almost black with dirt, and be obtained no reward for his pains.

"Funny place," he muttered. "I wonder how often anyone comes here." He sighed. "I shall have to move off again I suppose, but I can wait, at any rate, until someone comes. I'm quite safe. They'll never notice my tent on the other cliff."

He turned round and examined the boat. There were no oars, and everything movable in it had been taken away.

"Now, more than one person comes here," he said meditatively. "One person certainly could push this boat down into the sea, but it would require more than one person of ordinary strength to haul it up on the bank where it is. It looks--hullo! it had a name on it once and it's been scraped off."

He bent down and examined carefully the side of the boat. "Yes," he went on, "and they've been at some pains to blacken the place where they scraped the name away. They had no paint so they heated a piece of iron or something, and then smeared the spot over with tar. Quite recently, too, for it is not caked hard yet." He passed his fingers along the wood. "Ah! it's quite smooth where there are no scratches. They scraped it with a piece of glass." He nodded his head. "Now that's what I should do if I had stolen the boat and had to take the name off in a hurry." He looked up and frowned thoughtfully. "Really, I should like to see inside this house."

He walked back and pushed hard against the door, but there was no movement. It did not budge the fraction of an inch.

"Good lock," he muttered, "but still I could pick it in two minutes,"--he shrugged his shoulders--"if I wanted to, which I do not."

But somehow he thought quite a lot about the house on his way back to his tent, and as a result of his cogitations he returned there again in the afternoon to have another look.

This time he had brought with him a piece of stout iron wire, which he had taken from the luggage carrier of his bicycle.

The sea-gulls were still in evidence in front of the house, and he frowned again when he caught sight of them.

"Hum!" he murmured--"it would almost seem that they were expecting to be fed. Somebody evidently comes here pretty often--I must look out."

For quite a long while he manipulated with his piece of wire upon the lock of the door, but to his disappointment he could make no impression at all. He could not get the wire to catch anywhere.

"Now I would almost swear," he muttered, "that the door is not locked at all. There seems to be no bolt to prise back."

But the door fitted too close in the jamb for him to form any certain opinion as to whether his surmise were correct or not. He gave it up at length, and sitting down, proceeded to light a cigarette. He regarded the house very thoughtfully.