Kitobni o'qish: «The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery», sahifa 4

CHAPTER VIII.
BARNEY HAWKS REVEALS A TERRIBLE SECRET – TRAPPED

Old Spicer put out his hand and drew his young companion close to his side, in order that he might not lose a single word of what was about to be spoken.

He felt, and so did George Morgan, that they were about to hear revelations of the utmost importance.

Barney Hawks' first words, however, seemed a little foreign to the subject.

"Hand me that flask again, Jake," he said, in a tone of authority. "I must wet my whistle before I begin."

Jake took out the flask and passed it across the table without a word.

Barney took a liberal drink, and handing it back, said:

"Take a drop yourself, Jake, you may feel the need of it before I am through."

"So 'elp me gracious," muttered Jake, as he glanced at the flask: "it vos only a drop I could dake any how; dot vos all you hafe left me."

Barney seemed not to hear him, but hastened to say:

"You know the little trick we played down the road didn't work?"

"You mean putting der young station agent's pody on der track?"

"Yes; we hoped it would be supposed he had committed suicide, but as I say, our little game didn't work."

"How vos dot?"

"The engineer and fireman of the freight train both saw the body before they got to it; and while they couldn't slow up in time to escape running over it, they saw plainly enough that the man was dead, or at least drugged, before he was placed on the track."

"Dot vos pad."

"Yes; not only bad for us, but bad all around."

"What! do they suspect us, Parney?"

"No; but they are preparing to follow up certain clews that may, in the end, lead to us."

"Holy Moses! Do they suspect der rich young duffer?"

"Not yet. Just at present their suspicions point to another rich fellow; but they may come round to our man."

"Who's vorkin' up der case, Parney?"

"Nobody but Willett and Gaylord and a few common detectives are at it as yet; but I understand Old Spicer's going to take it up, and that's what makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Old Spicer! Father Abraham help us!"

"We shall need his help, or the help of some powerful saint, before we're through, I take it."

"I never quite understood the matter, any way," said Jake, in a thoughtful tone. "You asked me to help you with the job, and I did it. What did they want the young fellow put out of the way for, eh?"

"That's just what I was going to tell you."

"Well, Parney, drive on, vithout any more breface."

"All right! In the first place, then, you must know that several years ago a certain family, named Goddard, moved to Madison from New York. The father was engaged in mining operations in the Far West, and his family remained in the East.

"He had a beautiful daughter named Genevieve, who used to be rather wild, and furnished delectable gossip to Madison's staid matrons. She was not only beautiful, but vivacious, and when some young Hartford men camped out there, about six years ago, two of them – one a wealthy young fellow named Beach, and the other a rich gentleman whom we will call – Emory – fell in love with her.

"Now the Way family lived in Madison, and Charles Ives Way, who was then a romantic youth of sixteen or seventeen, had seen Miss Goddard, and, naturally, loved her – perhaps quite as much as either of the other gentlemen I have named.

"Genevieve had played her cards well, and had given both Beach and Emory, separately, cause to think that he, and he alone, was all the world to her.

"In carrying on her little game, she did her best to make them both jealous; but, strange to say, she never played them off against each other. For this purpose she always used to encourage Charley Way.

"Finally she carried things with such a high hand that, inside of two days, she had had fearful rows with both Beach and Emory; and in the heat of her anger she eloped with Way, and married him in New York.

"Just what Beach did I don't pretend to know. Emory went to her father and had a long private talk with him. The result was, her parents made her leave her husband, which, as I have an idea she never really cared anything about him, I suppose she did willingly enough.

"They took her out to Hot Springs, and while, no doubt, Way loved her devotedly, he never attempted to enforce his legal rights, and, so far as I know, never saw his wife again.

"Agents from her father, agents from Beach, and agents from our man, all in turn pestered him, and tried to induce him to get a divorce, as the woman had no grounds upon which to apply for one; but nothing they could do or say would induce him to procure a legal separation from her.

"At length our man became desperate. Mind! I'm not saying now that Genevieve ever promised, in case she should become free, to marry him; but I fancy he had encouragement enough to satisfy him, and he determined that she should be free.

"He sent another man to Way to reason with him. He tried other means, and when everything else failed, he sent for me."

"Und right avay, pooty quick, you sent for me."

"Yes; as soon as I had completed my bargain with him I sent for you."

"Und ve did de leetle schob."

"You're getting along too fast, Jake. First, we looked over the ground. Since his wife had left him, Way had gone into the railway business, and was now station-agent at Stony Creek.

"It so happened that I knew a party over at Leete's Island, close by."

"Peter Coffey, you mean?"

"Yes; and through him, without letting him suspect too much, we were able to learn a good deal. But, confound it, Jake, we have got Peter into the hottest kind of hot water."

"Vos dot so?"

"It's just so; and if we can't get at him, and fix matters right, he may let out something – tell of our frequent visits to his place, and all that."

"Py gracious! I hope he von't pe so careless. Put why do they susbect Peter?"

"For several reasons."

"Vell, vot vos one uv them?"

"A fellow named Howd claims to have been drugged, and robbed of forty dollars in money at Coffey's place, near the depot, several months ago. And then, as even you and I must admit, Jake, he is a pretty rough customer, any way."

"Yes, Parney; put all dot vosn't any evidence in this case."

"No; but you see we put the body on the track just at the point where a little path leads to Coffey's house. We ought to have known better."

"Dot vos so. I'm surbrised at you, Parney."

"Then it seems that he left a package of sugar in the depot, when we sent him there that night in order to make sure of Way's movements. And the morning after the murder, he was fool enough to go and claim it."

"Holy Moses! vot an innocent!"

"But that isn't the worst."

"Father Abraham! what else?"

"He came to the city after he had sent home his sugar, and he was heard to remark by two or three persons that he was with Way three minutes before the freight train went through, but that he would not tell anything more about it for a clean thousand dollars."

"Did he say dot, Parney?"

"So I understand."

"So 'elp me gracious! I will kill him before I am a tay older."

"Hum! perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad idea, Jake."

"I dell you, Parney Hawks, I will do it."

"I am perfectly willing, my dear boy."

"Dot settles it, then."

"All right. Do you remember that Clark that we saw with Peter two or three times?"

"Yes."

"Well, they think he had a hand in the affair. One woman, Mrs. Tyron, claims she saw him running down the street just after the freight train passed."

"Perhaps she did."

"Yes, and perhaps she didn't."

"Vell, let 'em think so, anyway. They may hang him if they want to: I sha'n't stop 'em, Parney."

"Nor I, either; but I reckon he'll get out of it easy enough."

"Has anything peen said apout der money ve found?"

"Yes; it is claimed that the murderers got away with one hundred and fifty dollars."

"Dot vos a mean lie; it vos only one hundred und forty-nine tollars und seventy-eight cents. Vere vos dot odder twenty-two cents?"

"You'd better ask 'em, Jake."

"No, thank you."

"By the way, where did you get the bottle of whisky you had with you that night?"

"Hum – I ton't remember, Parney."

"Think."

"I can't think."

"You must."

"Vhy?"

"They have picked up the broken pieces of the bottle, which, like a blasted fool, you left on the track near the dead body, and now they're trying to find the man who sold the whisky."

"They von't find him, then."

"Why not?"

"Pecause nopody never sold dot visky."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean dot I don't vos puy a tollar's worth uv visky in den years."

"Thunder! I might have known that."

"Of course."

"But where did you steal it, then?"

"I can't dell. In Shake Mann's, may pe."

"Can't you be sure?"

"Yes, Parney, it vos there. I remember now."

"All right, then. The place was crowded when we were in there, and among so many he'll never remember you."

"I'm villin' to pe forgotten, Parney."

"I should say so! And now about Way's revolver: you got that, didn't you?"

"Yes, Parney, I got dot."

"Where is it?"

"Right here in this vault."

"Where?"

"In my punk."

"Well, then, when we leave, you'd better take it away and hide it in a safer place."

"Why so, Parney?"

"Because, they're hunting for that weapon sharp, and it wouldn't do to have it found here, or on your person."

"All right, I'll dake it vith me, und hide it as soon as I get home."

"See that you do, Jake."

"I vill, Parney, so 'elp me gracious."

"Now, one thing more," said Barney, after a moment's pause, "and then we must be off. Have you seen Sadie Seaton since we parted last?"

"Yes," admitted Jake, somewhat reluctantly.

"She sent word to Hen about the old woman's money, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"How much does she claim the old gal had by her?"

Jake Klinkhammer hesitated.

Barney regarded him for a moment with stern displeasure, and then, in a threatening voice, said:

"None of that, Jake. It won't do, you know. You remember who first put us on the track of this affair, and it don't make any difference if Hen and his pal did get in ahead of us, they've got to divide; and you and I are going to divide whatever they pay us, mind that, my boy."

"Vell, vell, Parney, dot vos all right; we'll divy."

"Then answer my question. How much of a haul is it likely they made?"

"Sixteen t'ousand, sure, and maype twenty t'ousand."

"Hum, well, say sixteen thousand, that ain't so very bad."

"No, dot vos not so wery pad."

"It'll be four thousand a piece, you know."

"Und if it vos twenty t'ousand, vot then?"

"Why, then, I suppose we ought to give each of them an extra thousand, as they've had all the risk."

"Vell, dot vos all right, for then they vould hav' five t'ousand, und ve would hav' each five t'ousand, too."

"Hum, that's so; and five thousand ought to satisfy them."

"Py gracious, yes!"

"Where can we find 'em, Jake?"

Again the Hebrew hesitated. But a threatening look from Barney speedily brought him to his senses.

"Hen vos sthoppin' somevhere on Sixth Avenue, mit a girl," he said, hastily. "I don't vos remember her name. I vill ask Sadie."

"She wrote to him there, did she?"

"Yes, I dink so."

"Ain't you sure?"

"Not quite."

"How's that?"

"Dere vos von odder blace he had letters sent to somedimes. I vill find out dot blace."

"See that you do. And look you, Jake, may be it will be as well for us to pay New York a visit in company to-morrow. This town is getting a little hot for us, and we want money – want it badly; and we can see Hen and his pal, and make Emory meet us there at the same time – kill two birds with one stone, you understand."

"Yes, Parney, I dink ve petter go to New York."

"Well, then, that's settled. Now get your little gun and come along."

Jake started to his feet, crossed to the tier of bunks behind which the detectives were concealed, and began searching under the pillow of the middle bunk.

Presently he became greatly excited, and pulling up the bed itself, felt eagerly all over the bottom of the bunk.

"What in thunder's the matter?" demanded Barney, at last, impatiently.

"Py Father Abraham! dot pistols vos gone!" gasped Jake. "Dot vos vhat vos der matter."

"Gone? The devil!"

"Yes; und some uv my bapers vos gone, too."

"Papers? What papers?"

"Noddings put some leetle memorandums."

"Memorandums of what?"

"Of some moneys und jewels I hid in der leetle vault beyond."

"Have you got any wealth concealed in the little vault?"

"Schust a leetle, Parney – not much. It vos schust my share in der last boodle und der von pefore dot."

"Well, whatever it is, you'd better go and get it at once. If that revolver is gone, it isn't at all likely we'll want to visit this place again in a hurry."

"Dot vos so, Parney."

"Come on, then. Move the bunks aside. That's right – go ahead. I'll hold the light."

Jake squeezed his way behind the bunks, and throwing open the door, entered the inner vault, closely followed by Barney, bearing the light.

They took a step forward; but only to have the muzzles of two revolvers thrust into their faces, and to hear a voice, in stern and threatening tones, exclaim:

"You were looking for poor Charley Way's revolver a moment ago. Here it is! Will you have the contents now? You have only to move hand or foot, and they are yours, I swear it!"

"Old Spicer, by Jove!" ejaculated Barney, in a tone of chagrin.

"It vos, so 'elp me gracious!" groaned Jake, in a voice of despair.

CHAPTER IX.
THE SITUATION CHANGED – OLD SPICER STARTS FOR NEW YORK

Barney Hawks stood just behind Jake Klinkhammer, and a little to the right of him.

As he uttered the great detective's name, the light he carried dropped from his hand and almost instantly expired, leaving the place in total darkness.

The next moment he grasped Jake by the arm, and whispering the single word "burrow" in his ear, slipped around the bunks and disappeared.

Old Spicer fired two shots and Morgan one.

At the second shot, Jake Klinkhammer fell, with a dismal groan. And hastily calling upon George to light their own lamp, the old detective stooped down to raise up the supposed wounded man.

To his surprise, he could not find him, and the lamp which George by this time succeeded in lighting, revealed the fact that he too had disappeared.

An earnest and vigorous search for the murderers was now begun; but after a quarter of an hour had passed, not the slightest signs of them had been discovered.

"Where can they have escaped to so suddenly?" exclaimed George, impatiently. "Surely they did not get through the Ernst basement."

"No, nor by the other tunnel either," returned Spicer. "There must be a secret passage we have not found yet."

"Well, what shall we do? They're gone clean enough by this time, that's certain."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Spicer; "but whether or no, there's one thing we'd better do while we're here."

"What's that, sir?"

"Find the Hebrew's stolen treasure, and in fact, everything else we may have overlooked in our previous search. Now that they have got away from us, and know we have discovered their secret, they won't leave anything here that we may pass over."

"That's true enough. But do you really think they may yet be in one or the other of these vaults?"

"I think it's quite possible."

"Then suppose only one of us hunts for the treasure, while the other searches for the murderers."

"Very good, which task do you prefer?"

"To hunt for the villains."

"Very good again. Only let me warn you, don't let them get a shot at you from some dark recess."

"I'll look out for that;" and Morgan recommenced his search for the fugitives, while Old Spicer began looking for Jake Klinkhammer's treasure.

He soon found it, and, to his utmost astonishment, found that it consisted of $13,782 in gold and national bank notes, and watches, diamonds and jewelry to the value of at least $5,000 more.

"A big haul!" he exclaimed, "and with the memoranda I found, I shall be enabled to return by far the greater portion of it to its rightful owners."

He then went over the two vaults, inch by inch, but discovered very little more of importance.

Then, as Morgan had found no traces of the murderers, he decided to return to the outer world, and, after a conference with Stricket, and perhaps with the coroner, to put in operation a plan that he had been maturing in his mind for the past half hour.

Morgan followed the old detective with some reluctance. He could not bear to think that such consummate villains as the two who had so cleverly eluded them, should be allowed to make their escape. But he was forced to admit that he could give no good reason why they should remain longer under ground, and so, slowly, he followed Old Spicer through the tunnel into the sub-cellar, and from thence into the coal-vault and through the coal-hole, and so into the upper world.

On emerging from the passageway into York Street, they saw a cab passing. Old Spicer immediately hailed it, and, when they were seated inside, requested the jehu to drive as fast as his horse could go down Chapel Street.

"Where to?" asked Jehu, curiously.

"Go till I tell you to stop," was the reply, and the horse started.

In front of the Western Union Telegraph Company's office, Old Spicer gave the signal to stop; and, springing from the cab, he rushed into the office, scratched thirteen words on a blank, and, handing it to the operator, said:

"Get that off at once. It's on a matter of life and death."

The operator took the dispatch, and this is what he read:

"Adam Killett, 300 Mulberry Street, New York:

"Meet me at Grand Central depot on arrival of four-eleven morning train.

"Spicer."

"All right, sir," said the operator, "it shall go this minute."

"And mind!" said Old Spicer, "if he isn't at the office, as it's hardly likely he will be at this hour, have it taken to him wherever he may be; understand?"

"All right, sir; but I shall have to charge for sending the instructions."

"Charge what you have a mind to, but see to it that Mr. Killett gets that dispatch, that's all I care about it."

"He shall surely get it, sir."

"Thanks. It will greatly oblige me. Good-night," and hurrying from the office, he leaped into the cab, and calling out "Home Place," sank into his corner, and never spoke again till they arrived before his door.

"Wait," he said to the driver, as they alighted, "I shall want you to take me to the depot in ten minutes – come in, George, I want to talk with you and Seth," and he led the way straight to the back parlor.

Seth Stricket was still fast asleep on the lounge.

"Wake up, Seth!" said Old Spicer, giving him a vigorous shake. "You've had a long nap."

"What! back already?" demanded Seth, slowly raising himself to a sitting posture.

"Already? Why, man, it's all of three hours and a half since we left you."

"Is it possible!"

"It is indeed. And now, Seth, I want to talk to you. I have only time to say a few words, for I take the next train for New York – must start in ten minutes."

"The deuce! What's up?"

"We have learned that Mrs. Ernst's murderers came up from New York. Doubtless they have returned to the city again, and I must find them before they receive warning of my coming from two of their friends, whom George and I disturbed to-night."

"But did not capture?"

"As to that, George will explain when I am gone. But listen: While I am away, you are to bend all your energies toward retaking Barney Hawks and Jake Klinkhammer, and to find out who a certain Beach and a certain Emory may be, who camped out on the Madison sea-shore six summers ago. George will explain the rest."

"All right, sir."

"This treasure, George," continued Old Spicer, producing the Jew's boodle, "I wish you would place in the vaults of the Safe Deposit Company, as soon as they open in the morning."

"I'll attend to it, sir."

"Thanks. And now I must be off," and he started for the door.

"Stay!" exclaimed Stricket. "Supposing we should want to communicate with you, where will a letter or dispatch reach you?"

"Care of Inspector Byrnes, 300 Mulberry Street. If you want to get word to me, use the wires, and use them freely. Time is everything to us, you know. And now good-bye."

"Good-bye, sir, and good luck."

"Thanks, the same to you," and Old Spicer hurried from the house.

"Now, then, driver," he said, as he sprung into the cab, "I can ride as fast as your horse can go."

"All right, sir," and they were off.

Eight minutes later the indefatigable detective had taken his seat in the train, which was moving from the Union depot on its way to New York.