And then there was Bartlett. It was true he walked the streets—or rather rode around them in his “Spanish Omelet”—a free man; yet the finger of suspicion was constantly pointed at him.
More than once in the town he met people who sneered openly at him, as if to say, “You are guilty, but we can't prove it.” And once on the golf course he went up to three men who had formerly been quite friendly and suggested a game of golf, upon which one after another the others made trivial excuses and begged to be excused. Upon this occasion the young man had rushed away, his face scarlet, and he had only calmed down after a mad tour of many miles in his racing machine.
“It's an outrage!” he had muttered to himself. “A dastardly outrage! But what is a fellow going to do?”
Meanwhile Colonel Ashley and Jack Young were puzzling their heads over many matters connected with the golf course mystery. Jack had obeyed the colonel's instructions to the letter. He had played many rounds on the links and had gotten to a certain degree of friendship with Jean Forette. He had even formed a liking for Bruce Garrigan, who, offhand, informed him that the amount of India ink used in tattooing sailors during the past year was less by fifteen hundred ounces than the total output of radium salts for 1916, while the wheat crop of Minnesota for the same period was 66,255 bushels. All of which information, useful in a way, no doubt, was accepted by Jack with a smile. He was there to look and listen, and, well, he did it.
“But I've got to pass it up,” he told Colonel Ashley. “I've stuck to that Jean chap until I guess he must think I want him for a chauffeur if ever I'm able to own a car bigger than a flivver. And aside from the fact that he does use some kind of dope, in which he isn't alone in this world, I can't get a line on him.”
“No, I didn't expect you would,” said Colonel Ashley, with a smile. “But are you well enough acquainted with him to have a talk with his sweetheart?”
“You mean Mazi?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I s'pose I might get a talk with her. But what's the idea?”
“Nothing special, only I'd like to see if she tells you the same story she told me. Have a try at it when you get a chance.”