The Flaming Jewel Read online

two deer in the dappledshadow. There was a sunny clearing just ahead. The wood road they hadbeen travelling entered it. Beyond lay Star Pond.

  Trooper Lannis said to Trooper Stormont: "That's Mike Clinch's clearing.Our man may be there. Now we'll see if anybody tips him off this time."

  Forest and clearing were very still in the sunshine. Nothing stirredsave gold leaves drifting down, and a hawk high in the deep blue skyturning in narrow circles.

  Lannis was instructing Stormont, who had been transferred from the LongIsland Troop, and who was unacquainted with local matters.

  Lannis said: "Clinch's dump stands on the other edge of the clearing.Clinch owns five hundred acres in here. He's a rat."

  "Bad?"

  "Well, he's mean. I don't know how bad he is. But he runs a rottendump. The forest has its slums as well as the city. This is the Hell'sKitchen of the North Woods."

  Stormont nodded.

  "All the scum of the wilderness gathers here," went on Lannis. "Here'swhere half the trouble in the North Woods hatches. We'll eat dinner atClinch's. His stepdaughter is a peach."

  The sturdy, sun-browned trooper glanced at his wrist watch, stretchedhis legs in his stirrups.

  "Jack," he said, "I want you to get Clinch right, and I'm going to tellyou about his outfit while we watch this road. It's like a movie.Clinch plays the lead. I'll dope out the scenario for you----"

  He turned sideways in his saddle, freeing both spurred heels and lolledso, constructing a cigarette while he talked:

  "Way back around 1900 Mike Clinch was a guide -- a decent young fellowthey say. He guided fishing parties in summer, hunters in fall andwinter. He made money and built the house. The people he guided werewealthy. He made a lot of money and bought land. I understand he wassquare and that everybody liked him.

  "About that time there came to Clinch's `hotel' a Mr. and Mrs. Strayer.They were `lungers.' Strayer seemed to be a gentleman; his wife wasgood looking and rather common. Both were very young. He had theconsump bad -- the galloping variety. He didn't last long. A monthafter he died his young wife had a baby. Clinch married her. She alsodied the same year. The baby's name was Eve. Clinch became quite crazyabout her and started to make a lady of her. That was his mania."

  Lannis leaned from his saddle and carefully dropped his cigarette endinto a puddle of rain water. Then he swung one leg over and sat sidesaddle.

  "Clinch had plenty of money in those days," he went on. "He couldafford to educate the child. The kid had a governess. Then he sent herto a fancy boarding school. She had everything a young girl could want.

  "She developed into a pretty young thing at fifteen. ... She's eighteennow -- and I don't know what to call her. She pulled a gun on me inJuly."

  "What!"

  "Sure. There was a row at Clinch's dump. A rum-runner called JakeKloon got shot up. I came up to get Clinch. He was sick-drunk in hisbunk. When I broke in the door Eve Strayer pulled a gun on me."

  "What happened?" inquired Stormont.

  "Nothing. I took Clinch. ... But he got off as usual."

  "Acquitted?"

  Lannis nodded, rolling another cigarette:

  "Now, I'll tell you how Clinch happened to go wrong," he said. "You seehe'd always made his living by guiding. Well, some years ago HenryHarrod, of Boston, came here and bought thousands and thousands of acresof forest all around Clinch's----" Lannis half rose on one stirrup and,with a comprehensive sweep of his muscular arm, ending in a flourish:"-- He bought everything for miles and miles. And that started Clinchdown hill. Harrod tried to force Clinch to sell. The millionairetactics you know. He was determined to oust him. Clinch got mad andwouldn't sell at any price. Harrod kept on buying all around Clinch andposted trespass notices. That meant ruin to Clinch. He was walled in.No hunters care to be restricted. Clinch's little property was no good.Business stopped. His step-daughter's education became expensive. Heas in a bad way. Harrod offered him a high price. But Clinch turnedugly and wouldn't budge. And that's how Clinch began to go wrong."

  "Poor devil," said Stormont.

  "Devil, all right. Poor, too. But he needed money. He was crazy tomake a lady of Eve Strayer. And there are ways of finding money, youknow."

  Stormont nodded.

  "Well, Clinch found money in those ways. The Conservation Commissionerin Albany began to hear about game law violations. The Revenue peopleheard of rum-running. Clinch lost his guide's license. But nobodycould get the goods on him.

  "There was a rough backwoods bunch always drifting around Clinch's placein those days. There were fights. And not so many miles from Clinch'sthere was highway robbery and a murder or two.

  "Then the war came. The draft caught Clinch. Malone exempted him, hebeing the sole support of his stepchild.

  "But the girl volunteered. She got to France, somehow -- scrubbed in ahospital, I believe -- anyway, Clinch wanted to be on the same side ofthe world she was on, and he went with a Forestry Regiment and cut treesfor railroad ties in southern France until the war ended and they senthim home.

  "Eve Strayer came back too. She's there now. You'll see her at dinnertime. She sticks to Clinch. He's a rat. He's up against the dry lawsand the game laws. Government enforcement agents, game protectors,State Constabulary, all keep an eye on Clinch. Harrod's trespass signsfence him in. He's like a rat in a trap. Yet Clinch makes money at lawbreaking and nobody can catch him red-handed.

  "He kills Harrod's deer. That's certain. I mean Harrod's nephew'sdeer. Harrod's dead. Darragh's the young nephew's name. He's neverbeen here -- he was in the army -- in Russia -- I don't know what becameof him -- but he keeps up the Harrod preserve -- game-wardens, patrols,watchers, trespass signs and all."

  Lannis finished his second cigarette, got back into his stirrups and,gathering bridle, began leisurely to divide curb and snaffle.

  "That's the layout, Jack," he said. "Yonder lies the Red Light districtof the North Woods. Mike Clinch is the brains of all the dirty workthat goes on. A floating population of crooks and bums -- gameviolators, boot-leggers, market hunters, pelt `collectors,' rum-runners,hootch makers, do his dirty work -- and I guess there are some who'llstick you up by starlight for a quarter and others who'll knock yourblock off for a dollar. ... And there's the girl, Eve Strayer. I don'tget her at all, except that she's loyal to Clinch. ... And now you knowwhat you ought to know about this movie called `Hell in the woods.' Andit's up to us to keep a calm, impartial eye on the picture and try tofollow the plot they're acting out -- if there is any."

  Stormont said: "Thanks, Bill; I'm posted. ... And I'm getting hungry,too."

  "I believe, said Lannis, "that you want to see that girl."

  "I do," returned the other, laughing.

  "Well, you'll see her. She's good to look at. But I don't get her atall."

  "Why?"

  "Because she _looks_ right. And yet she lives at Clinch's with him andhis bunch of bums. Would you think a straight girl could stand it?"

  "No man can tell what a straight girl can stand."

  "Straight or crooked she stands for Mike Clinch," said Lannis, "and he'sa ratty customer."

  "Maybe the girl is fond of him. It's natural."

  "I guess it's that. But I don't see how any young girl can stomach thelife at Clinch's."

  "It's a wonder what a decent woman will stand," observed Stormont."Ninety-nine per cent, of all wives ought to receive the D.S.O."

  "Do you think we're so rotten?" inquired Lannis, smiling.

  "Not so rotten. No. But any man knows what men are. And it's a wonderwomen stick to us when they learn."

  They laughed. Lannis glanced at his watch again.

  "Well," he said, "I don't believe anybody has tipped off our man. It'snoon. Come on to dinner, Jack."

  They cantered forward into the sunlit clearing. Star Pond lay ahead.On its edge stood Clinch's.

  * * * * *

  III

  Clinch, i
n his shirt sleeves, came out on the veranda. He had littlelight grey eyes, close-clipped grey hair, and was clean shaven.

  "How are you, Clinch," inquired Lannis affably.

  "All right," replied Clinch; "you're the same, I hope."

  "Trooper Stormont, Mr. Clinch," said Lannis in his genial way.

  "Pleased to know you," said Clinch, level-eyed, unstirring.

  The troopers