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Updated: June 20, 2025
Hair brown and straight. Complexion dark. Eyes gray. Height 5 feet 10-1/2 inches. Weight about 140 pounds. Teeth white and even. May seek work as gasfitter. When last seen wore a gray suit with double breasted vest. Walks slightly sideways. "Here's our bird all right," said Detective Ferrett with a cold vulgarity which made the scouts' blood boil. "This is that Quebec chap, wanted for murder.
With the promptness of sudden discovery county detective Ferrett picked it up. He held it distastefully, as one holds a thing infected. To the boys his act seemed like an insult to the poor worn rag with its tear, caused by the falling beam, and its brown bloodstain. But none of them spoke. Roy, in particular, watched the official with keen interest.
It was with some trepidation that they encountered at the head of the stairway the police guard talking with Detective Ferrett. "Well, how do you find him?" the county official asked in gruff good humor. He at least seemed not at all awed by the solemnity of the place. "Does he have to go to Canada?" Roy asked. "Does he have to go soon?" "Yes, siree. Been telling you about his brother?"
No one had anything to say, not even Detective Ferrett. All he could do was whistle perplexedly. The overworked, thin, trembling arm of poor Mrs.
And these fellows your own patrol they can prove what you say " Roy was almost sobbing. Pee-wee certainly held the floor or the road. "The men Mr. Ferrett they know better than we do, Kid. Blythe is the one whose picture " "You say yes or no," Pee-wee demanded in a voice of thunder. "They lifted him off where you were caught and so now you're alive and you can speak. Is he a murderer or isn't he?"
Surely, the boys thought, Artie could not have spoken of Blythe's identity over the 'phone, yet following the ambulance came the touring car of Bridgeboro's police department with the chief in it, the policeman chauffeur, a couple of other men, and county detective Ferrett.
It appeared that not only thugs and bandits, but occasionally a surgeon who knew his business, came from New York. And then something happened.... The doctor from New York discovered something which the eagle eye of Detective Ferrett had not discovered. And which the Bridgeboro doctors had not discovered. It was nothing new.
A thrill of admiration passed through several of the scouts as they heard this. "I'd I'd anyway I'd rather be a doctor than a detective," Pee-wee whispered. "Well, it's all down on the paper here," said Detective Ferrett. "We've got him dead to rights. Aim for a goose and you hit a gander. This fellow's a red-handed thug from Canada. They've had the alarm out for him a couple of years.
His discovery and prompt identification by Detective Ferrett was due to an alarm sent to Bridgeboro of an accident at the old camp. The information being uncertain, local police officials and the county officer accompanied the ambulance to the camp, where it was found that the young man, who is a stranger to the scouts, had sustained injuries to his head and body.
Detective Ferrett, whose skill and shrewdness and remarkable memory enabled him to bring this brutal criminal within the reach of justice, warns parents not to let their children play in spots unfrequented by their elders, because of the numerous thugs and desperate characters cast adrift by the war and the present period of unemployment.
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