“Boy, oh boy,” said Timothy, shaking his head. “You think of everything. I’m glad you’re not a cop.”
Chapter Twelve
Jean’s Ride
The rest of the week went by without further news. Jim was unable to get the Tuesday morning paper, the one most likely to contain news of the murder. They searched all the others, but with no success. Timothy and he were still completely in the dark as to what efforts the police were making. They could only make guesses.
Jim was enjoying himself however. He was playing an important part in a serious and exciting game. He kept Timothy well supplied with food, reveling in his mysterious errands. While at home, time hung very heavily on his hands. He felt that he should be doing something. He was bothered about Jean. He was not going to underestimate her again, and he knew she was watching him carefully. Also, her birthday was approaching. She mentioned the matter several times; so he knew she had not forgotten the promise he had made. While he supposed Timothy could hide elsewhere on that day, it would be difficult to remove all traces of his recent occupancy. Also, part of the safety of the hide-out would be destroyed once Jean knew the way.
Before it had been merely a matter of personal pride that kept Jim from telling Jean. Now it was a serious matter—a man’s life was involved.
To cover up his nervousness and unrest, Jim began teaching Ticktock a few new tricks. He had long since taught the mustang to stand quietly in one spot when his reins were dangling, not to crop grass while a rider was in the saddle, and various other accomplishments of a good riding horse. Now he tried a new idea. He enlisted the aid of his sister for the instruction.
Jim would go a few feet away from his sister and the horse, then Jean would say, “Ticktock, go to Jim.” When the mustang did as he was told, he would receive a piece of sugar or apple as a reward. The process would then be reversed and the pony told to go to Jean. They gradually lengthened the distance until finally Jean was some distance down the road. Ticktock caught on rapidly, trotting back and forth between the two carrying out his orders. In a few days he was thoroughly schooled.
Jim then began instructing Jean in riding. Much of his information had been picked up only recently from Timothy, who had a vast store of knowledge about horses and riding in general. The horse trainer had once worked in a riding academy and had given riding lessons. Jim was an apt pupil and followed his new teacher’s advice religiously. He seldom had to be told twice. He learned the proper way to sit in the saddle, how to hold the reins correctly and various do’s and don’ts of riding. For the first time he heard of the art of posting.
All this information was passed on to Jean. Jim spoke in such an authoritative manner that Jean knew he was not inventing his technical terms or making up his riding lore. There had been a noticeable improvement in his riding lately which she hadn’t failed to see. As a detective, Jean put her brother to shame. She missed nothing. Aware that Jim had not been visiting anyone she knew who was a riding expert, she said nothing but continued to observe. She hadn’t missed the frequent trips to town and other rides in the direction of Briggs Woods. As for the milk and eggs that disappeared, she had noted that bit of information down too. When Jim slipped away with a watermelon, she definitely decided something very mysterious was taking place.
Jean considered the theory that someone was giving her brother riding instruction and information for which he was paying in food. But why was he so mysterious about it all. If he was openly taking lessons from someone, he would be certain to talk about it, even boast somewhat. No, there was more to the matter than was covered by such a simple explanation. She was just as decisive as her brother and even though only ten, when she made up her mind, she acted. So she devised a plan.