“He didn’t slight his duty. I tell you he kept tramping around the block steadily. Mr. and Mrs. Conant saw him and Mrs. Conant thought he was after her garbage can. Irene Macfarlane saw him and told me he walked all night. Of course, walking is not watching, but I am sure Slater did his duty as he saw it. The thing is, he has mistaken his calling and ought to be a bill sticker whose object is publicity of his business. You might caution him a bit if he is to go on with the job and tell him to keep in the shadows a little more and sometimes turn and go the other way. My idea is that not only do we want to keep any treasure hunter from gaining access to the Hathaway home but we also want to nab anyone who is so inclined.”
“Of course!” said the chief shortly.
“See here, I haven’t offended you, have I?” asked Josie with concern. “I thought you wanted me to be frank.”
“Of course, of course! I guess I am more mortified than offended,” confessed Captain Lonsdale, who had a real affection for the daughter of Detective O’Gorman, but who was naturally a bit put out that this slip of a girl should have caught one of his prize officers bungling. He determined to give the man a stiff lecture on detective work in general and the job of patrolling a house liable to be broken into in particular. It would be a sad affair if this treasure, that must be somewhere, should be found and carried off by thieves under the very nose of the police force.
Josie left the police station, her head bowed in thought. She went by the Hathaway house again before she returned to the Higgledy Piggledy Shop. Again she walked around the yard and this time she closely examined the outside of the garage.
“Umhum! Vine a little crushed where some one pressed close to the wall,” she muttered.
Stooping she regarded the earth attentively.
“Small footprints! Tennis shoes, I should say—either a boy or a woman. Fortunate for Slater the light in the alley is so bright that that one couldn’t enter the house without being seen even by a sleep-walker. That’s what Slater is—a sleep-walker!”
Josie O’Gorman whistled thoughtfully, stared up at the silent house, and walked slowly homeward.
A little later in the day, a dark haired boy came down the alley walking jauntily and with seeming nonchalance. In his hand he carried a weapon known to boy-land as a “gumbo shooter” or a “sling shot.” It is not quite like the weapon used by David in the great killing of Goliath of Gath. That was a sling shot which must be twirled rapidly around and then let fly. But it is a similar means of offense and even more deadly.