Maurice Leblanc

“ Then he said:
“No, nothing.”
“Why, of course not!” cried the farmer, throwing up his arms. “How should you know! It's all hanky-panky. Shall I tell you what I think? Well, that old Trainard has been so jolly clever that he's lying dead in his hole ... and the bank-notes are rotting with him. Do you hear? You can take my word for it.”
The gentleman said, very calmly:
“There's only one thing that interests me. The tramp, all said and done, was free at night and able to feed on what he could pick up. But how about drinking?”
“Out of the question!” shouted the farmer. ”

“ Money? I haven't three sous to call my own....”
But his eyes, wide with wonder, remained fixed upon his clothes; and he himself seemed not to understand.
The Goussots' rage could no longer be restrained. They rained blows upon him, which did not improve matters. But the farmer was convinced that Trainard had hidden the money before turning himself into the scarecrow:
“Where have you put it, you scum? Out with it! In what part of the orchard have you hidden it?”
“The money?” repeated the tramp with a stupid look.
“Yes, the money! The money which you've buried somewhere.... ”

“ And, by the end of the afternoon, none remained but the Goussots and the two farm-labourers.
Old Goussot at once explained his plan. By day, they were to search. At night, they were to keep an incessant watch. It would last as long as it had to. Hang it, old Trainard was a man like other men; and men have to eat and drink! Old Trainard must needs, therefore, come out of his earth to eat and drink.
“At most,” said Goussot, “he can have a few crusts of bread in his pocket, or even pull up a root or two at night. But, as far as drink's concerned, no go. There's only the spring. ”

“ Then go and fetch the neighbours.... Ask them to run for the gendarmes.... By the by, the attorney's youngster has a bicycle.... How that damned old Trainard scooted! He's got good legs for his age, he has. He can run like a hare!”
Goussot was holding his sides, revelling in the occurrence. He risked nothing by waiting. No power on earth could help the tramp escape or keep him from the sound thrashing which he had earned and from being conveyed, under safe escort, to the town gaol.
The farmer took a gun and went out to his two labourers:
“Anything fresh?” ”

“ And for fourteen days, while two of the men and Mother Goussot remained on guard, the five others explored the Héberville ground.
At the end of that fortnight, not a sign.
The farmer never ceased storming. He sent for a retired detective-inspector who lived in the neighbouring town. The inspector stayed with him for a whole week. He found neither old Trainard nor the least clue that could give them any hope of finding old Trainard.
“It's a bit thick!” repeated Farmer Goussot. “For he's there, the rascal! As far as being anywhere goes, he's there. So....” ”

“ The six notes!” roared the farmer.
The stranger kept him at a distance:
“One moment ... we'll give you that back, sha'n't we, Trainard?”
And, taking his knife and cutting away the straw and cloth, he jested, cheerily:
“You poor old beggar, what a guy you look! But how on earth did you manage to pull off that trick? You must be confoundedly clever, or else you had the devil's own luck.... So, on the first night, you used the breathing-time they left you to rig yourself in these togs! Not a bad idea. Who could ever suspect a scarecrow?... ”

“ I had to let go of him....”
“Do you know the man?”
“I'm pretty sure it was old Trainard.”
“The tramp? Why, of course it's old Trainard!” cried the farmer. “I thought I knew him too.... Besides, he's been hanging round the house these last three days. The old vagabond must have smelt the money. Aha, Trainard, my man, we shall see some fun! A number-one hiding in the first place; and then the police.... I say, mother, you can get up now, can't you? ”

“ The same idea dawned on all the country-folk. The stranger's arrival at Héberville, the breakdown of his motor, his manner of questioning the people at the inn and of gaining admission to the farm: were not all these part and parcel of a put-up job, the trick of a cracksman who had learnt the story from the papers and who had come to try his luck on the spot?...
“Jolly smart of him!” said the inn-keeper. “He must have taken the money from old Trainard's pocket, before our eyes, while he was searching him.”
“Impossible!” spluttered Farmer Goussot. “He would have been seen going out that way ... ”

“ The sons rushed after him across the lawns and orchards, now darkened by the falling night.
“The villain's done for,” chuckled old Goussot. “There's no way out for him. The walls are too high. He's done for, the scoundrel!”
The two farm-hands returned, at that moment, from the village; and he told them what had happened and gave each of them a gun:
“If the swine shows his nose anywhere near the house,” he said, “let fly at him. Give him no mercy!” ”

“ And, as it was a roundabout way to the door, he smashed in a window with his fist and sprang into the old people's bedroom. The room next to it was the linen-room, in which Mother Goussot spent most of her time.
“Damnation!” he said, seeing her lying on the floor, with blood all over her face. “Dad! Dad!” ”