Who Is Mr. Grey?

Paul and Ken were listening attentively to Jack’s story of what had happened the night before. Paul commented, “It’s really a pity. What we have to do is to catch him in the act as soon as possible and have him arrested. Then something might be done for him.”

“What could be done for him?” asked Ken.

“Oh, I don’t know. Most likely he would be put into an asylum. That would be best, too, I guess.”

Jack showed his companions the house to which he followed his man the night before. There was nothing much to see there. The place was empty and unoccupied. But strangely, the front door was open. They entered and searched about. All the rooms were empty and dusty. In the hall again Paul noticed some scraps of paper in one corner. He looked at them but thought nothing suspicious of it. He sniffed the air and then shook his head.

Outside again, they walked calmly off. “No clues here, it seems,” muttered Ken.

“No,” asserted Paul. And again he thought of the scraps of paper but the next moment dismissed them from his mind. “What seems to bother me most,” he added, “is how he came to suspect that he was being followed?”

“I don’t think he really suspected,” said Jack. “My opinion is that he came upon me by accident.”

“A very unhappy accident,” commented Ken.

“Yes, rather.”

“I should think so,” remarked Paul. He shook his head doubtfully. “Yet somehow I can’t quite believe it. Of course, you’re most likely right, but—”

He broke off his sentence in the middle, not quite decided upon his opinion. Jack thought out loud. “I wonder who this man is and what is wrong with him?”

“You say there is a grocery store at the corner house, is that right?” The boys stopped and Jack nodded. “Then,” continued Ken, “let’s go down there and inquire in a roundabout way in the store. They might know him.”

“That’s a swell idea,” cried Paul.

“Yes, I think so too,” added Jack. “Let’s do it.”

They walked down to Jones Street. A very short distance before they arrived at their destination, they stopped to decide upon their plan of action. “Exactly how are we going to do it?” asked Jack.

“One of us will have to go inside and make a purchase, then ask about a tall dark-complexioned man.”

“I guess one of you two better go in. They may have noticed me around here and they might get suspicious.”

“I will go in,” offered Ken. “But what am I to say?”

“Just ask if they know a tall, dark man living somewhere in the neighborhood,” instructed Paul.

“But if they ask me what I want him for, what am I to say?”

“Make up some kind of story, anything. Say that you were told that he was a plumber, or something like that, and that you want him to do a job.”

“All right, I’ll go in. Where are you fellows going to be?”

“We will be right here. And when you come out, just keep walking straight ahead as if you don’t know us.”

“Okey, here goes.”

Ken walked off and came to the store. He hesitated, looked around, pretending that he was not certain it was the right place. He entered. He noticed that a middle-aged woman was alone in the store. She came out from behind the counter and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Er—excuse me,” he said, “but I am looking for a tall, dark man. I was told that he lives in this neighborhood somewhere.”

“I know a tall, dark man,” she answered, speaking softly. “What is it you want him for, may I ask?”

“I was told he was a carpenter and looking for work and—”

“It couldn’t be Mr. Grey. He is not a carpenter. You couldn’t mean him.”

“No, I guess not. Thank you.”

“It’s quite all right.”

Ken left the store much excited. He walked briskly till he came upon the boys. They fell in alongside of him. “Well?” asked Paul.

“His name is Mr. Grey,” gasped Ken.

“What else?”

“That’s all. The woman did not tell me any more.”

“But the name alone is not enough,” cried Jack. “What does he do? Where does he live?”

“I couldn’t ask her such questions,” Ken defended himself. “She would become suspicious and tell me nothing.”

“Let’s not argue,” cautioned Paul. “At least we have his name, that’s something. Did the woman in the store seem to know him?”

“Yes. I should imagine from the way she spoke that she knew him well.”

“She didn’t mention anything, else?” asked Jack.

“No.”

The boys walked silently along for some while. Paul snapped his fingers. “You know what?” he cried. “Let’s look him up in the town directory.”

“Where will we get one?” inquired Ken.

“I have one home,” said Paul.

The boys hurried to the Morrison home and Paul brought out the town directory. It didn’t help them any. There were three Greys. One was a pharmacist, the second was a butcher and the third a lawyer. They put the book down and Jack muttered, “That’s not much of a help.”

“No. It’s very possible that he has only recently moved into town,” commented Paul.

“Now that is an idea,” remarked Ken. “The reason he is so little known must be because he is a newcomer around here.”

“But how does that help us any?” asked Jack.

“Well, it’s good to keep it in mind,” asserted Ken.

“What do you say we go down to that neighborhood again?” asked Jack, “and just look around. Perhaps we can find some person who knows something.”

“It’s all right with me,” was Paul’s comment.

The three boys shuffled off the porch and walked down Main Street again. At Jones Street, they could find no other stores in the immediate neighborhood where they might enter and obtain some information. They walked back and forth several times, but their searches were futile. One of them suggested that they quit and go home and the others assented. Passing on the other side of the street, the three of them kept their eyes on the store. A woman emerged. Ken grasped Paul by the arm. “Look,” he said, “there’s the woman leaving the store.”

“Well, what about her?”

“Don’t you understand?” demanded Ken. “She is the woman I spoke to when I entered the store.”

“That’s right,” cried Jack. “If she is leaving, someone else must be in the store. I am going in. Perhaps I can obtain some information.”

Paul held on to his chum who was on the point of walking off. “No,” he said. “I’m going in. You may have been noticed around here before and it would look suspicious. Both of you just keep walking back and forth and don’t attract attention. I am going in.”

Jack and Ken continued walking along Main Street while Paul crossed over to the store and entered. A customer was at the counter and Paul pretended to be looking around. The customer left and the man, evidently the proprietor, remained behind the counter, waiting for Paul to give his order. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

Paul picked up a small box of chocolate crackers and deposited a nickel on the counter. The man picked up the coin and rang it up on the register. “Excuse me, Mister, but it seems that a certain Mr. Grey lives in this neighborhood and....”

Paul did not finish his sentence. He scrutinized the man’s features and concluded that the proprietor of the grocery was a shrewd, hard, and unsympathetic individual. He must be careful of every word, he told himself. The man drawled, “Now let me think.” He scratched his chin and pretended that he was trying to remember an individual by the name of Mr. Grey. “What is it you want of him?” he asked.

“Well, you see,” Paul began, “my mother heard that he was a carpenter and she wants some work done.” That was bad, he thought to himself. It was the same story that Ken had used and if his wife told him that some boy was in looking for a carpenter, the man was sure to become suspicious. But he was obliged now to stick to his story. He continued, “So she sent me around here to try and find him.”

“Where do you live?” the grocery man asked him.

“Around the corner. The next street.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing you around in the neighborhood.”

Paul realized that he was in a predicament and he had to get himself out of it. “We just moved in, two weeks ago,” he answered.

The man scratched his chin again. “Isn’t that strange?” he muttered. “I haven’t heard of anyone moving in or out of the neighborhood within the past two weeks.” He paused and eyed Paul who felt his face going red. “Well, at any rate, I am sorry but I don’t know any Mr. Grey around here.”

Paul moved away from the counter. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s quite all right. Tell your mother to come in here sometime and do her shopping. I like to know the people in the neighborhood.”

“I will.”

Paul was glad to escape from the store. He had never before realized how difficult it is to obtain information from people. Joining his companions, he laughed good naturedly. “What’s the joke?” asked Jack.

“The old so and so!” he exclaimed. “He got more out of me than I got out of him.”

“You mean you didn’t find out anything?” Jack was serious and anxious.

Paul shook his head. “Not a thing. The old man beat around the bush and finally confessed that he didn’t know anyone by the name of Mr. Grey.”

“And you fellows accused me of not obtaining enough information,” Ken joked. “At least I found out what his name is.”

The boys were discouraged. “Now what?” asked Jack in a tone of hopelessness.

His companions did not know what to do next and rather than talk about it, they walked along silently. They came to the street on which Jack lived and he said he was going home. Ken said, “No, don’t do that. It’s early yet.”

“Oh, I thought I would go home and putter around with my dad’s car; it needs some work done on it.”

“I’ll tell you what,” commented Ken. “Let’s go over and speak to your father, Paul. He is a doctor and knows a lot of people in town. Perhaps he might tell us something.”

Paul shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, we can do that. But I don’t think he has many patients in this neighborhood.”

“And if he doesn’t know,” continued Ken, “we might go over and see Chief of Police Bates. He knows me and I am sure we could get to see him.”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t think we ought to see Chief Bates. He might ask us a lot of questions, worm the story out of us and then laugh at us or call us crazy kids.”

“We might at least try your father,” insisted Ken.

“All right. We will do that.”

But Dr. Morrison did not know either. He mentioned John Grey, the pharmacist, Walter Grey the butcher and W. J. Grey the lawyer. Those were all the Greys he knew. But the boys knew that themselves. They were stumped.