CHAPTER VIII

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Encounter

The boys did not know what to do nor how to do it. But they were determined to put an end to the mystery. And shortly, too. If the man was permitted to roam the streets of the town freely, God knows what damage he might eventually do and what crimes he might have up his sleeve. He might lead away another child, he might commit more robberies, he might put the torch to a house full of sleeping persons, he might do anything. He had to be caught; upon that the boys were firmly convinced.

That evening, Jack came to Paul and said, “Listen, I’m going to tell my mother that I am having supper at your house tonight. But instead, I am going down to Jones Street and nose around a bit.”

“That’s a good idea. But suppose I go with you.”

“No, I would rather go down alone. It is too difficult for two people to be hiding together, darting in and out, and all that.”

“You are right, Jack. Be careful, though. Don’t get into any trouble. I feel guilty letting you go alone.”

“Oh, don’t talk like an old woman.” The boys laughed at that. “I can take care of myself. I have done it before.”

“Very well, go ahead. But I want you to come back and tell what happens.”

“All right. But if nothing happens, I won’t come. I will go home instead.”

Thus it was agreed and the two boys parted. Half an hour later, Jack was at the corner of Main and Jones Streets. It was still daylight and Jack had the opportunity to look the neighborhood over. It was a poor and deserted neighborhood, not far from the edge of the town. The first building on the corner was an old wooden house. At the street level was a grocery store, and the floor above looked as though it were occupied by a family.

Alongside this building was an empty lot, as was true of the opposite corner. Further on, intermittently on both sides of the street were one or two family wooden homes. Jack walked up and down the block twice. There were some women on several of the porches and a number of children played on the empty lots. He decided to take up a position at the corner of Jones and Main Streets, but it was still light and he didn’t want to arouse any suspicion. So it became a problem as to how to spend the hours until dark.

First he walked up and down the block several times, then went around the block twice until he was afraid that people in the neighborhood might become suspicious of him. Then he walked up Main Street and back again. It seemed to him that the day would never end. He crossed the street to the empty lot and walked to the farthest corner of it. Picking out a comfortable place to sit down, where he would not be noticed, he tried to watch the corner so as to see everyone who passed.

The minutes dragged on endlessly. What is the matter, Jack asked himself. Time usually passes so quickly; before you turn around the day is gone. And now—He shifted in his seat and found the ground hard to sit on. Staring vaguely at the house on the corner, at the few people that passed up and down, many thoughts came to his mind. The uppermost thought in his mind was, what might be wrong with this man, the maniac? It was something he wished he knew, as he had always been interested in trying to figure out what made people do the things they did.

But that thought soon slipped his mind and was replaced by another one—that of going to college. Another three weeks and the summer vacation would be over and Ken, Bobolink, Paul and he would be on their way to the state university. What was college life like, he wondered. There were sports, of course. Ken would make a swell swimmer and Paul would most likely join the football squad. As for himself, he would try basketball. Then there were the fraternities. He had heard a lot about Greek letter clubs. But he was not going to bother much with any outside activities; he was going to study to be a doctor. So was Paul. And it took a lot of study to become a doctor.

He was staring rather aimlessly. His dreaming helped to pass the time away. It was already almost dusk. Suddenly he was electrified. He jumped to his feet and then he dropped to the ground again. A tall individual had just then emerged from the door of the corner house. Bending low, he ran to the corner and caught sight of the retreating back of his man. A cold chill ran down his spine. He was certain of his man. There was the same height, the same baggy clothes and that wild appearance. The man kept shifting his head in all directions; his eyes seemed to be everywhere, staring at people, at houses, at everything.

Jack followed closely. It was still not quite dark and he hoped he would not be stopped by anyone. He was rather glad when the man turned into York Street. It was a quiet, residential street and instantly Jack feared what the man might be up to. Was he bent on starting a fire in one of the fine houses on the street? But his fears were in vain because the man kept on walking, almost reaching the tracks. Repeating his gestures of the day before, the man suddenly stopped and very slowly turned around on his heel. Jack had just enough time to dash behind a fence. The man entered the yard and then walked behind the house. Jack ran up and hid himself behind a tree almost directly across from the house. Looking closely, he noticed that the house appeared to be unoccupied. There were no lights in the windows and there was nothing to indicate that anyone lived there. The man reappeared and entered the house by the front door. He just walked in without using any key, or breaking in the lock. There was something suspicious about the house. If it were unoccupied, it should be locked. If a family did live there, there would be some light in the windows; and probably the maniac would not enter so assured of his safety.

It seemed to Jack that the man was in the house a long time. He decided on a dangerous tactic. Quickly, noiselessly, he sprinted across the street, jumped the fence and ran to the side of the house. Cautiously, he moved to see if there was a back door; he found it on the other side of the house. Putting his hand on the knob, he turned it and pushed, but the door wouldn’t open; it was locked. He moved toward the front again, to watch for the exit of his man. Every second was an eternity. His heart pounded wildly and if he had not controlled himself, he would have trembled, not so much from fear as from anxiety and excitement.

He flattened himself out against the wall and remained stationary, not daring to make a noise. Suddenly he felt long, bony fingers grab him by the shoulder and wheel him around. His blood went cold and he could almost feel his hair standing on end. “So!” the man grunted under his breath. “What are you doing, following me, eh?” Jack cowered before the great height towering over him. He saw that the man had a rising forehead, bushy eyebrows and deep eye sockets. What impressed him most, however, were the man’s sunken cheeks and his wild eyes, which were dark and brilliant.

For almost a minute, Jack was paralyzed and couldn’t talk. Eventually he muttered, “No—no—I—I’m not following you.”

“Yes, you are,” accused the man. “You have been following me for two weeks now and I want you to stop it.”

Jack heaved a sigh of relief. The man was crazy. But was he dangerous, he wondered. Would he attack him. He was on guard against an attack. “Why, no, Mister, I’m not following you. Why should I? I don’t even know you.”

“You lie!” screamed the other. “You lie! You do know me and I know you.”

Jack thought he had better be quiet and polite with his assailant. A good, sound argument might get him out of his predicament, he thought. “I am sorry, Mister,” he said, “but I repeat that I don’t know you. If you know me, as you say you do, then what is my name.”

Still holding on to Jack’s shoulder, the man scratched his chin. “Now let me see,” he mumbled to himself. “What is your name?” He mused, then he snapped his fingers and announced, “I know. It’s Jack.”

The boy gasped. How could that man know him, know his name. What was he to do? He wished he had never known about this thing, had never followed this man and had never got into this situation. Controlling himself, he asked, “What is my family name?”

“Barrows!” the man snapped back. “Barrows, that’s it.”

“You are wrong,” contradicted Jack. “My name is Ed Smith.”

“No,” insisted the man, “you are Jack Barrows. And I demand to know why you are following me.”

“But I am not following you. You are mistaken.”

“Then what are you doing here?” The man’s voice now boomed. “Tell me that!”

“I used to live in this house,” fabricated unhappy Jack. “I once used to live here,” he repeated, “and I was just looking around.”

“So you used to live here!”

The man lifted his free arm and swung. Jack ducked. The arm crashed against the wall, the man screamed with pain and Jack wrenched himself free. The man lunged for him. Jack side-stepped and stuck his foot out; his victim tripped and stretched himself out on the ground. Without waiting or looking back, Jack was off. He jumped the fence and dashed down the street. Rounding the corner, he stopped to consider why he was running. He stood nonchalantly and waited for his man to appear. But the mysterious individual was not forthcoming. He waited five more minutes and still he did not appear.

He came around the corner again and crossed to the other side of the street. Walking slowly and cautiously, he came to the tree opposite the house. Taking shelter, Jack looked across. A wave of pity swept through him at the scene he saw. On the very same spot, almost where he fell, the man was now sitting up and his shoulders were trembling. From all appearances, the man was sobbing bitterly, as though his heart were breaking.

Who is this man, Jack asked himself. And what is the matter with him? What had ever happened to him to cause him to become what he was. Jack asked himself all those questions but had no answers. He determined to find out. He must find out, he thought to himself.

Jack looked at his watch and saw that it was almost nine o’clock. He realized that he was terribly hungry. He decided not to wait around any more but to go home. On the way he remembered that he had promised Paul that he would come over and tell him if anything had happened. But he did not feel like it at the moment and he went straight home and called Paul on the telephone.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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