The Negro's Story
Saturday came and went without event. So far, at least, Hallen's arrangements for the preservation of order had been effective. Or was it that the eyes and hopes of the people were centred upon the new arrival in town, the great detective—as they were led to believe—who had grown famous through his skill in ferreting out just such mysteries. In any case, the Chief's forebodings of a lawless outbreak were unfulfilled.
The real Oakes spent most of his time in the Mansion while we remained in town; but our little party came and went as it pleased. Our movements had ceased to attract that attention which Oakes found so undesirable. As he said, in the well-known phrase of the sleight-of-hand operators: "the more you look, the less you see." The eyes of Mona were focused on the false Oakes—the wrong hand; we ourselves—the hand doing the trick—were over-looked. And the more absorbed they became in the movements of the decoy, the more oblivious were they of the fact that keen eyes were studying them deeply. The criminal, unless very educated and clever, would be fooled with the multitude and caught off his guard.
A rather curious fact was that, while Dowd's newspaper published an article in its personal column about the great detective's arrival and all that he was expected to accomplish, Skinner's journal remained absolutely silent. Dowd said he could not understand it, unless the ruse had failed to deceive Skinner, in which case we might hear from him soon. We knew that our friend Quintus Oakes held the same idea. As he said, if the cheat were discovered it would lead to trouble, which must be met as it arose.
Moore and I became daily more imbued with the spirit of the adventure; besides which, we were keenly alive to Oakes's feelings and his desire to succeed. The newspapers far and near were following the case carefully, and we knew that his reputation and financial success depended largely on the outcome of this case.
A few evenings later Moore and I were standing in the square, discussing the very apparent change in the temper of the crowd since their attention had been directed by the arrival of the man they believed to be Quintus Oakes.
"Yes," said Moore, in answer to a remark of mine, "it is a clever scheme and makes the people think that Hallen is doing something; but how will they take it if they discover the trick?"
"Well, perhaps by that time the real Oakes, our friend, will be in position to reveal his identity—that would calm any bad feeling—they would realize that work had been done quietly all the while."
Moore shook his head doubtfully. "I don't like Skinner's attitude," he said, "he knows something."
Reilly approached us at this moment to say that Clark wanted us at the Mansion immediately, and that a conveyance was waiting for us at the hotel. We went at once and found it, a four-seated affair, with Hallen and Dowd on the back seat. We two sat in front with the driver—one of Oakes's men; and after we had left the town I turned to the Chief and asked him if he knew what Oakes wanted of us.