The mystery of the missing eyebrows

of the shrubbery, close to the window with the raised blind and stood there quietly staring into the room for a few minutes. And then he slouched back into the shrubbery again. CHAPTER IV. A NEW DOG AT THE OLD HOUSE. For a few minutes Renfro Horn stood irresolute. Then he darted back down the street a short distance, crossed it, slipped along the sidewalk until forty feet from the shrubbery, dropped onto his hands and knees and crawled to the spot where the peeper had disappeared. The mysterious man had vanished. A hurried but close search failed to reveal where he had gone. Renfro did not knock at the door. He had no proof to offer that the man had been at the window. Telling such a story as that to Judge Wier, reputed to be the town’s most courageous citizen, would win him a laugh. As soon as he had finished the street and incidentally his route, Renfro walked back to Washington Avenue and down it toward the Hall house. It was dark but his parents would not be worried if he were quite late in getting home. They had predicted all sorts of difficulties for this evening. After a little while Renfro slowed down his pace. The big white house, the cabin a little farther on, Captain Pete and the stranger were only a short distance away and he had as yet made no reason for coming to their premises at night. A request for rabbits? He shook his head. “I won’t go in. I’ll just peek,” Renfro vowed to himself. “At least that will give me a beginning for a cue.” Directly opposite the three big apple trees which remained of the Hall orchard, a big airedale came sniffing toward him. Renfro stopped, gave him a keen look and called softly, “Lang Tammy--here sir--Lang Tammy!” The big dog sniffed his way to Renfro. After reaching him he gave a few more investigating sniffs and then seized Andy’s discarded paper bag playfully in his teeth. He tugged at it with all his might. Laughing Renfro tugged back. “You’re a peach of a dog, Lang Tammy,” he began, “I’d like--” Then the strange voice did more than had the strange appearance. It frightened the big dog. Turning sharply he ran back to the apple trees. He wheeled around, gave Renfro a look, a sharp bark, and trotted into the shrubbery out of sight. Lang Tammy was a new possession on the Hall place. Captain Pete had not had a dog since his collie had been poisoned a year ago. Renfro chuckled, “I’ll see him and ask him where he got his new dog” he decided, “that will help some. He’ll either have to claim or deny the dog. And I know positively that Lang Tammy’s master is somewhere on this place.” He turned off the road, skirted along a rail fence, jumped across a ditch and stumbled against a rotting stump. Every window in the big house was dark. He was making his way down to the cabin. The one opening there was on the other side of the house and Renfro couldn’t be sure whether or not it was lighted till he came opposite the cabin. He scratched both of his hands on some briers. His paper bag--Andy’s discarded one to be exact,--caught on a paling on the second fence and tore loose with a ripping sound. The wind rattled the limbs on the old trees and made queer spectral sounds on the tin roof of the big house directly opposite the cabin. Renfro looked sharply at it again. It was still dark. And then he stumbled against the cabin, felt his way around it and stood close to the window. Inside there was a small lamp burning. The chimney was smoke stained and the wick, turned low, made still more smoke. But the light showed the rude furniture of the room, the meal almost ready on the table. Yet no one was in the cabin. Up at the big house it was all dark. Captain Pete couldn’t be there. Renfro shouldered his torn bag and made his way back to the road. It was interesting here and he wanted to lurk a little longer, but he knew that if he were too late in getting home his mother would be uneasy. “If she worries too much Dad will make me give up the route,” he thought. After which he hurried up the road to the side walk. The houses on either side of the street were little and in the darkness stood sagging like the skin of a moldy apple. Some of them were lighted; others were dark. Andy had said the night before that only about half of them were tenanted. But in them were probable subscribers for the Globe. Just as Renfro had about decided to canvas here the next Saturday, the street car slowed to let off a passenger. At the same time Renfro swung on to ride back to the end of the line and help change the trolley. And there sitting opposite him was Old Captain Pete clad in his best overcoat and hat. A genial smile spread over his face at the sight of Renfro. “Such rabbit luck,” he ejaculated, “as I’ve had today! Killed thirty-one and sold ’em every one afore I left Main Street. Your hired gal bought two.” When he expressed surprise about Renfro’s being on the car so late the carrier showed him his empty paper bag. “I’m coming out to get you for a new subscriber,” he promised. Like a battered sail Captain Pete’s head shook a denial. “I aint got no use for newspapers,” he was gruff, “Haint read one regular for more than twenty years.” “Not since his brother was sent up,” Renfro remembered the story Clint had told him. Still remembering it he rode into his home avenue. And from the corner he walked home. Mr. and Mrs. Horn were still in the dining room, Mr. Horn was looking thru the afternoon papers and his wife was toying with some salted almonds. She rang the bell when Renfro entered, and Mary brought in his supper. Her broad face spread into a grin when she saw Renfro. “Rabbit for supper,” she whispered sibilantly, “I bought it this afternoon of Captain Pete Hall myself. Your maw was gone but I took it upon myself to do it. It’s broiled too.” “See Captain Pete, Mary?” he asked while he ate. “Dolled up, wasn’t he?” Mary nodded and simpered. “But his buttons was off something fierce, Renny,” she declared. “A man like him has no business growing up to be a bachelor.” Mr. Horn looked over the top of his paper, first at Renfro and then at Mary. It wasn’t exactly a look of reproof he gave them but rather of surprise. However, it was enough to stop their conversation. “Get frightened alone?” Mrs. Horn’s voice was full of hope. Renfro shook his head. He honestly had not. His interest had been aroused however. He must talk to Mary alone about Captain Pete and the rabbits. He must-- And then his father reached him an envelope. “This was in the mail,” he told him, “postmarked The Evening Globe. I suppose it’s your contract.” Together he and his wife arose and went into the library. Renfro tore open the blue envelope, pulled out a card and read it thru before he fairly understood it. Going back to the beginning he read it again. “A full gown turkey to every route carrier who gets ten new subscribers before Thanksgiving Eve”, he drawled. “Well, it’s up to me to get some turkeys,” he mused. He ate bananas without any cream to save time and slipped into the kitchen. The cook was out and Mary was reading a novel and washing the dishes at the same time. Renfro’s entrance startled her so that she let the soap drop into the water and the shower which rose from the pan, following the splash, went directly into both her own and Renfro’s faces. They sputtered and gurgled. Finally, Renfro could speak, “Mary,” he began, “do you think you could cook six turkeys all at once?” Mary stared at him, “Six turkeys,” she exclaimed. “Who are you wanting me to cook for, Renny? Six turkeys, no, I’ll not be cooking turkeys for all your fine friends! Now in this book here where I was reading, there is a story about a turkey and a couple what lived on opposite farms from where it was raised. It was real romantic. The turkey got lost as turkeys will, and when the girl went to hunt it she found the young man and they fell in love and were married. It’s just full of mystery and romance.” “Well,” Renfro laughed, “none of my turkeys are going to get anyone in bad like that, Mary. Sure you’ll cook them--won’t you?” “Where’s the turkeys?” Mary was suspicious. “Oh,” Renfro smiled a look of mystery in his smile which brought Mary to her feet. “I’ll have them here all right in time for Thanksgiving day.” “And, Mary,” he slipped close to her and gave her a comradely look, “There’s something on my mind I have to work out. I may need you to help me. I’m not telling exactly what it is yet, but it’s got mystery and maybe some romance in it. And you will help if I need you--won’t you?” Both of Mary’s hands came out of the pan of suds. “Mister Renfro,” she said solemnly, “Aint I been wantin’ to give up this sort of work and go into real detective work for years. Why, once I took a correspondence school course in it. And I’ll--” Renfro’s hand was raised in warning, “Just wait, Mary,” he cautioned, “Just wait until I’m ready to tell you, and then you’ll have your chance.” He sauntered back into the dining room. The telephone on the stand made him decide to call Andy and tell him that he hadn’t missed a single customer, that he liked the route and would stick. He wanted to know, too, if Andy was satisfied with his new route. And Renfro took down the receiver. Chapter V. THE STRANGER COMES AGAIN. It became still colder during that night. Renfro Horn awoke near midnight to feel a gale blowing around his ears. He got up, shut his east window and crawled back into bed. “I’ll bet that tin roof is dancing a regular ghost dance on the big house,” he muttered. He turned over, pulled the blankets closer over his ears. The next minute it was morning, and Mary was calling him. “The pipe’s froze something fierce,” she began, “And you’ll have to eat in the kitchen close to the range.” “Suits me all right,” Renfro laughed and jumped out of bed. At the breakfast table his mother began to worry about his route. She predicted that he would freeze his feet, and perhaps his hands, contract pneumonia and lumbago and then her list gave out. His father looked a trifle uneasy while she talked but said nothing. However, as he and Renfro walked down the street together, respectively toward school and office, he gave his son some warnings. “Better mind them all too, young man,” he seemed very impatient this morning, “if you should happen to get sick, bang goes your paper route and no argument.” A shrill yell drew their attention across the street. Two morning paper carriers, who went to the Grant School, the same one Renfro attended, were coming in from finishing their delivery. Their paper bags were drawn around their shoulders, and their caps pulled low over their ears. “Jim froze his right ear almost,” sang the taller boy, “and I gave him first aid. One more merit badge.” “You bet,” Jim agreed, “If you need any help tonight call on Bob, Hooch.” “Hooch?” Mr. Horn was amazed. “Oh, that’s my nickname,” Renfro affected carelessness. This was no time he reflected to tell how it had been created, nor how popular it had become in less than forty-eight hours. So he tried to change the subject. “Jim Noel’s a first class Boy Scout and he’s trying to win enough merit badges to get the eagle rank at the Court of Honor session.” Mr. Horn nodded, “That’s all right for the other fellows,” he said, “but if you freeze your ears you go to a doctor.” At that instant Renfro wished he could tell his father--a few things--how he had had not only his ears but his nose nipped during one of his hikes on which he was trying to make some discoveries concerning quail tracks. He himself had bound the snow onto them. And Mary had helped him with the other applications the first aid book advised. But he kept still.