Curiosity is one of the most powerful traits in human nature, and in youth, being to some extent unrestrained, it often reaches its highest development. It was chiefly curiosity that had led Hooker to listen thus far to the words of Piper; but now, as if suddenly realizing the full significance of Sleuth’s self-confessed and shameless prying into the affairs of others, and remembering at the same time his familiar and friendly relations with Fred Sage, Roy suddenly seared his companion with the red-hot iron of contempt and wrath.

“You miserable, sneaking puppy!” he cried. “Under pretence of making a friendly call, you play a miserable trick like that, do you? I’ve a mind to give you the finest drubbing you ever had.”

Indeed, so savage and threatening was his attitude that Piper fell back precipitately, lifting his hands as if to ward off a blow.

“Now you hold on!” he cried. “You hold on, Hooker! You hadn’t better hit me. Perhaps you think that would be a good way to make me keep still about what I know concerning the Sages. I’m not going to blow this thing round to everybody. I chose you because you’re Fred’s chum.”

“Oh, is that so?” scoffed Roy incredulously. “You’ve begun blabbing with me, and it isn’t likely you’ll stop there. I don’t know what you’ve found out, but I do know that the way you’ve gone about it to obtain your information was dirty—just plain dirty.”

“It was thoroughly legitimate,” asserted Sleuth in self-defence. “These people are living here in our town and associating with our citizens. If they’re the right sort, there can be no harm in finding out about their past history. But perhaps you’ve misunderstood me, Hooker. I’m not making the claim that there’s anything wrong with the Sages we know.”

“Oh, aren’t you?” said Roy in surprise. “I thought you were. If you haven’t found out that there’s something wrong about them, what the dickens have you found out that was so wonderful? What is this sensational thing that’s going to make my hair curl?”

“If you’ll give me a chance and not get fighting mad over it, I’ll tell you. You know it’s often the case that there’s a black sheep in the most respectable family.”

“Huh! There are only three persons in this particular family. Where’s the black sheep?”

“Only three of the family are known at the present time to the people of Oakdale,” Piper said hastily. “Have you never thought that there might be at least one other member of this family?”

“Can’t say such a thought ever occurred to me.”

“Listen,” urged Sleuth, “and keep your temper under check until I’m through. The information I’ve obtained does not reflect upon Andrew Sage, his wife or his son Fred.”

“Well,” breathed Roy in relief, “there’s considerable satisfaction to be derived from that statement.”

“The postmaster of Rutledge states that Mr. and Mrs. Sage and their younger son, Fred, are most estimable people.”

“Whew!” whistled Hooker. “Their younger son, eh? Oh, do you mean that there’s another—another son we don’t know anything about?”

“There’s another son, of whom we’ve known nothing whatever up to the present date. I know something about him now, and he’s the black sheep. It was the criminal act of this elder son, Clarence Sage, that doubtless added many gray hairs to his mother’s head and led the family, weighted by the shame of it, to leave Rutledge and seek another home, where no one would know of their disgrace. Now if you don’t care to hear any more about the matter,” said Sleuth craftily, “I’ll close up.”

Roy’s aversion to hearing the information Piper had secured was completely swept away.

“Oh, go on,” he invited, once more leaning against the bridge rail. “What did this Clarence Sage do?”

“Robbed a bank.”

“In Rutledge?”

“Yes. He was employed in a bank there, and he pilfered fourteen thousand dollars from the institution.”

“Jove!” muttered Hooker. “I don’t wonder Fred never has mentioned his brother.”

“The crime was discovered, as such things always are, and Clarence Sage was arrested, tried, convicted and sent to Sing Sing for a term of years.”

“My hair curls!” exclaimed Roy. “So Fred has a brother in prison. That’s a shame!”

“He had a brother in prison. Clarence Sage isn’t there now.”

“Oh, his term has expired?”

“No.”

“Was he pardoned?”

“No.”

“CÆsar’s ghost! What happened then? Is he dead?”

“Well,” answered Sleuth, “in my mind, at least, there is a doubt at this point. He is supposed to be dead. With two other prisoners, he broke out of Sing Sing in midwinter and tried to escape by crossing the Hudson on the ice. The other two convicts were both recaptured. The trio had separated immediately after getting out of the prison, and neither of the recaptured rascals knew what had become of Clarence Sage. For more than two months detectives sought everywhere for Sage, whose apparent success in avoiding them was both astonishing and perplexing. Eventually the body of a man was recovered from the river, but in such a condition that identification was difficult. There were reasons, however, to believe that the body was that of Clarence Sage. Andrew Sage viewed the remains and decided that it was his recreant son. The body was buried in Rutledge, and the grave is marked by a stone bearing the name of Clarence Sage.”

“Well, then, why do you doubt that he’s dead?”

Piper tapped his forehead. “I believe I’ve got a little gray matter up here,” he said boastfully. “After reading this letter, it took about thirty seconds for me to form a theory in which I have the utmost confidence. My conviction is that Clarence Sage is still alive. I think he did make good his escape and succeeded handsomely in baffling the officers who tried to follow him. The body that was taken from the river and buried under the name of Clarence Sage was that of some other man, as yet unknown. Perhaps it will continue to be unknown. When this identification and burial had taken place, danger for the escaped man was reduced to a minimum. Mind you, I’m not making the assertion that Andrew Sage knew the body was not that of his son, but what would be more natural than for him to identify it as such in order to give Clarence a better chance for freedom? Perhaps, at the time, he really believed it to be the unfortunate young man. Possibly, through some means, he has since learned that his son is alive.”

“If you hadn’t read so much detective stuff, such an improbable idea could not have found lodgment in your crazy garret,” said Hooker. “I understand you’ve even tried to write stories yourself lately. Say, Sleuth, if this matter wasn’t so serious, it would be laughable.”

“Your words,” returned Piper, “betray the narrow limits of your reasoning faculties. I’m not basing my suspicions on mere guesswork, Hooker.”

“Then, for the love of Mike, what do you base them on?”

“One week ago you met a stranger who behaved in a most peculiar manner. Apparently of some education and refinement, this man seemed to be somewhere near the age of Clarence Sage, if Sage still lives. He made inquiries of you concerning the Sages in Oakdale, and when he learned that Fred Sage was approaching he took to his heels and got away. He didn’t dare remain to face Fred in your presence. Why, Hooker—why? Simply because he knew that in his amazement Fred would call him by name and give the whole thing away. What do you think about that?”

For a moment or two Roy shook his head. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be true, Piper. If that’s all you have to base your belief on——”

“Did there seem to be anything especially wrong with Fred last night?”

“No, not that I observed.”

“Well, there surely was something the matter with him to-day. Something had happened to upset him completely.”

“What do you think it was?”

“It was something tremendous, or it never would have led him to bungle and blunder the way he did in that game. It was such a tremendous thing that he could not get it out of his mind so that he might concentrate on the game. Whenever he dismissed thoughts of it, he played in something like his usual form for a few minutes, but it kept coming back at him and putting him on the blink. He denied that he was sick. He denied that anything had happened to upset him. All this is precisely what would have happened had he made the amazing discovery to-day that his brother Clarence was alive.”

“Gee whiz!” breathed Hooker. “I’ll own up that you’ve got me staggered. If you’re right, Piper, you certainly have got a head on your shoulders.”

The darkness masked the smile of satisfaction that Sleuth could not repress.

“You can’t dodge the force of my deductions,” he declared. “Let me give you a further illustration of my reasoning ability. As an escaped convict, is it likely that Clarence Sage would lead an honest life? I admit that he might, but the germ of dishonesty must have been virulent in his blood, or he, the apparently promising son of highly respectable parents, would never have committed his first crime. Once a man has taken a crooked step, he’s almost sure to take others. Supposed to be dead, Sage surely traveled under a fictitious name. A certain crook, called James Wilson and known among his pals as Gentleman Jim, bears a strong resemblance to the young bank-looter who was sent to Sing Sing. This crook was arrested in the town of Harpersville a short time ago, but made his escape from the jail, nearly killing the guard as he did so. A big reward has been offered for Wilson’s capture. The last peg in my argument is that this Gentleman Jim is none other than Clarence Sage himself.”

“If that should prove to be right,” said Hooker, “I’ll admit that you’ve got all the detectives of real life or fiction beaten to a froth.”