Charlie shook his head bleakly as we came around the bend. From fifty yards away I could see Brisbee and Lamb having it out on the porch, Lamb’s hands gesturing angrily as he spoke and punctuating exclamations I could not quite discern. Lumbering toward them was a heavy figure who looked at first glance like an impossibly broad giant, and then at second glance like a man wearing a coat made out of smaller men. Finally I realized I was witnessing Hank Hudson loping across the farmstead with Lamb’s lackeys pulling him back, one on either arm. Their combined efforts appeared to have a minimal effect on the sturdy trapper.
“Slim,” said Jackaby. “I would suppose the chances are slim.”
Chapter Nineteen
Charlie rushed up the road ahead of us to break up the scuffle, and Lamb’s employees dropped away as he approached. Lamb was growling about boundaries and preservation, adding several foul phrases in conjunction with the name Owen Horner. Brisbee leaned against the railing, looking unimpressed as Lamb rattled on. Hudson’s cart had been parked beside the hitching post, and tethered side by side, the trapper’s brawny steeds made Charlie’s Maryanne look tiny.
“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on here?” Charlie demanded. Five voices immediately erupted into fervent explanations, and Charlie had to wave them silent. “One at a time! One at a time. Mr. Hudson, if you please?”
“Well, let’s see. These two clowns are angry ’cause I tried to take a look at them big bones up on the hill without asking their permission. Didn’t know I needed to buy a dang ticket. I guess I missed my chance for the free show yesterday. That Lamb fella’s mad ’cause apparently he fuddled the wording on some contract of his, and Brisbee found a loophole. Didn’t catch all the details, but from what I gather, Lamb’s got rights ta keep the bones hidden away, but he still needs Brisbee’s permission if he wants ta pack ’em up and ship ’em off to his fancy university. Brisbee’s makin’ him keep ’em here, instead. Lamb ain’t thrilled, but he can’t do much about it without breaking his end of the deal and losing his rights to the dig. That’s about the long and short of it. Oh—I get the feeling there’s something else Brisbee’s happy about, too. He said he was planning on showin’ that gal from the Chronicle something—but he wouldn’t say what. Didn’t get much time ta ask before Chuckles here came down to start yelling at him.”
“Aside from the editorializing, would you say that’s accurate?” Charlie turned to Professor Lamb.
“It’s not the half of it,” Lamb spat.
Charlie sighed. “Please, Professor—tell me what you are upset about.”
“Horner! Horner is obviously up to something! And Mr. Brisbee has been allowing, if not abetting, his mischief! This sudden decision to argue semantics over our contract, which is needlessly delaying my research, is clearly a ploy manufactured by Horner to distract me! Brisbee knows as well as I do that Horner is up to no good, and I do not appreciate his cavalier attitude about it!”
Brisbee tossed up his hands. “You don’t like it when he’s here; you don’t like it when he’s gone. I’m not worried about Horner, and to be honest, I’m not worried about the bones you say he stole. I’m sure they’ll turn up.” He brushed Lamb aside and stepped off the porch. “This whole thing’s just a big tantrum, Officer. Professor Lamb wants to take his toys and go home, and he’s just mad that he can’t. He’ll get over it.”
“I’m sure you’re right. All the same, where is Mr. Horner?”
“He should be back any minute now. That reporter sent a telegram that she’d be in Gadston on the three o’clock, and Mr. Horner volunteered to pick her up. He said he had some things to do in town, anyway.”
“And you didn’t find that the least bit suspicious?” mumbled Lamb moodily from behind him.
Brisbee ignored him and continued. “She won’t be disappointed, either. I found something that’s sure to make for a good story for the Chronicle, whether or not this curmudgeon opens up the dig site.”
Jackaby raised his eyebrows. “Hudson mentioned something about that. I don’t suppose you care to elucidate?”
“Well . . . I was going to hold off until they got back—but one of the kids has gone missing.”
“A child has gone missing?” Jackaby said. “When?”
“No, no—a kid,” said Brisbee. “One of my baby goats.”