Kitobni o'qish: «The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery», sahifa 5

CHAPTER X.
ON THE EVE OF A TERRIBLE CRIME

Old Spicer and Morgan had hardly passed out of the tunnel into the sub-cellar, when the little flight of five steps, leading from the trap under the table to the entrance of the tunnel, was thrown forward, revealing a hole about two and one-half feet high by nearly three feet wide – a veritable burrow.

Out of this hole first crawled Jake Klinkhammer, and when he had raised himself to the floor of the vault, Barney Hawks followed him, carefully restoring the steps to their place, however, before he crawled out from under the table.

"Where is there another light, Jake?" asked Barney, "I broke the one we had, you know."

"Lemme see," mused Jake. "Oh! dere vos some candles in der lower punk, on dot side. You find 'em?"

"Yes," answered Barney, after feeling in the place indicated, "here they are. Now, have you a match?"

"Yes," and, lighting one, the Jew came forward and communicated the flame to the candle.

"Now," said Barney, "let's see if they have found your little boodle," and the two hurried into the inner vault.

A single glance was sufficient to inform Jake of his heavy loss, and a more unhappy Jew never cut a throat or relieved a poor widow of her hard earnings.

"Oh, Father Abraham!" he groaned, "I vos a ruined man. Vot schall I do? Oh, holy Moses! schust help me to catch dot tamned Old Spicer, und I vill not ask uv you one odder favor so long as I live.

"Great Aaron! all der hard earnings uv a life-time gone. I vos schust ready to lay me town und die. Yes, dere vos no use living any more."

"It is mighty hard, Jake, to lose all your honest earnings in this way," said Barney. "But cheer up, my boy; you've escaped with a whole skin, and we may live to get even with Old Spicer yet."

"I vould schust like to r-r-r-ring his tamned neck!" hissed Jake. "I vould schust like to trink his l-l-l-life blood!"

"You would like that, eh?"

"So 'elp me gracious, dot vould make me feel happy."

"Well, we will lay low for him one of these days, but just now we must see Sadie, and after we have seen her we must be off to New York."

"I vos ready for anyting now," sighed Jake; "I vos desperate!"

"That won't do, old fellow; brace up! There are plenty more yellow boys to be had where those came from. Pshaw! in another week we shall both be rotten with wealth."

"Maype so; I don't care."

"But you want to get even with that long, thin church-spire of a detective, don't you?"

"Yes, yes; und with der odder von, too."

"All right. Come on, then."

They descended into the tunnel, carefully closing the trap-door after them.

Just before reaching the sub-cellar, Barney came to an abrupt halt.

"Suppose," said he, "they have placed a watch at both of the outlets?"

"Dot vos schust vhat dey hav' done, ov course," responded Jake, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Then, in the demon's name, how are we going to get out?"

"Give it op," returned Jake, indifferently.

Barney regarded his companion with a look of surprise.

"Thunder!" he exclaimed, "do you let the loss of a little money affect you in that way? Are you willing to die – to be hanged, just because a little bad luck has overtaken you?"

"Might schust as vell die as to pe vidout gold," answered Jake, doggedly.

"Well," said Barney, resignedly, "I see I've got the thinking to do for both of us, and I take it I can put you in the way of getting at least a part of your wealth back again in short order."

Jake pricked up his ears.

"How vos dot, Parney?" he asked, with some show of interest.

"You've got your shooting-irons about you, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"And that bloody knife of yours?"

"Yes."

"Then follow me and keep your eye open."

"I'm vith you, Parney, vherever you lead, so long as dere vos gold at der end uv der journey."

To this Barney did not reply; but starting on, he opened the door into the sub-cellar, and instead of turning either toward the coal vault or opening into the disused sewer, conducted his companion to the stairs leading to the basement of the house.

These stairs they ascended, but found the door at the top locked.

Barney at once took a pair of key-nippers from his pocket, and fastening them to the key which was in the lock, turned it, and immediately opened the door.

They then, cautiously, ascended to the principal floor, and from thence to the second floor, and so on, to the roof of the house.

Crouching down, they crawled along the roof until they had reached the particular house Barney had in mind, and here they stopped before the scuttle and attempted to raise it.

It was firmly fastened on the under side.

Barney promptly took two jimmies from an inside pocket of his coat, and passing one to Jake, directed him to insert it under one corner of the scuttle door, while he did the same at the opposite corner.

"Ready?" he presently asked.

"All ready," was the answer.

"Up with her then!" and both bearing down on the jimmies at the same time, the staples underneath gave way with the utmost ease, and the scuttle-door flew open.

"Dot vos all right," exclaimed Jake. "Now what next?"

"Listen," said Barney, "I have learned that in the room I am going to take you to there is a strong safe, containing at this present moment $33,500."

"Dhirty-dree t'ousand and 'vive hundred tollars! Vos der really so much as dot, Parney?"

"Possibly there is a little more or a little less; but you'll find I am not very far out of the way."

"Whose money vos it?"

"It belongs to the Eastern stock-holders of the Eagle Gold Mining Company, of Arizona, and has been sent on here to their treasurer and agent, Mr. John Marsden, to be used by him in paying their next quarterly dividend."

"So 'elp me gracious! I dink dey vill hav' to pass dot next dividend, Parney, eh?"

"It strikes me that way."

"Vhere vos dot safe?"

"Ah! there's the rub, and that's what I must fully explain."

"Of course."

"Well, you see Marsden and his wife occupy a sleeping-apartment on the second floor. Beyond this sleeping-room is another and smaller apartment, which is used by Marsden as a sort of study and private office, the only means of access to which is through the sleeping-room."

"Und in this inner room vos der safe, eh, Parney?"

"Exactly."

"Then ve hav' to go right py Mr. Marsden's ped, and run der risk uv wakin' him und his vife?"

"Yes."

"Vell, dot vos all right, if ve vos sure dere vos dhirty dousand tollars in dot safes."

"There's not the shadow of a doubt of it. The money was paid to Marsden at noon to-day, or rather yesterday, as it is now past midnight."

"Put vhy didn't he put it in der pank?"

"He's a queer fellow – rich and very eccentric; has had a row with every bank president in the city, and swears that not one of them shall ever handle another dollar that he controls. He expects to take the greater part of the money to Meriden and Hartford to-morrow."

"Py gracious, Parney! ve vill safe him dot trouples, ha, ha!"

"We will try to, at any rate. And now come on."

"One moment, Parney. Suppose they should vake up."

"Hum, I wish we had a little chloroform with us."

"Yes, put ve ha'n't got von trop."

"No, and so – "

"Und so if either uv dem underdake to make trouples, vhy – "

"Why, you must silence them in the easiest way you can."

"Dot vos all right Parney – you shust leave dot to me."

"Very good. And now come on. I'm mighty glad to see you in a more cheerful mood, Jake."

"Ha! ha! Der brospects uv handling dhirty-dree dousand tollars vas enough to make any man cheerful. Vosn't dot so, my tear Parney?"

"Well, there is a cheering sound in the clinking of gold, I must confess. Now, then, I'll go ahead, and you keep close to my heels."

"All right."

"Better close the scuttle, Jake."

"Dot's schust vot I am a-doin'," and Jake closed and fastened the scuttle while Barney waited for him on the attic floor below.

Not having a lantern, Barney now lighted a piece of candle he had brought with him, and the two burglars descended the attic stairs to the third story.

Treading cautiously and lightly, they traversed the hall and descended to the second floor.

Here Barney paused before a closed door and listened intently.

Then, after a rapid signal to Jake, he put out the light and turned the knob.

The door was locked on the inside.

Once more he had recourse to his nippers, and speedily the door was opened.

Evidently Barney knew exactly where the door to the inner room was situated; for, without the slightest hesitation, he started across the sleeping-apartment in a diagonal direction.

Jake essayed to follow him, but mistaking the course, brought up against the foot of the bed, which he struck with such force as to startle the sleepers from their dreams, and cause a red-hot oath to burst from his own lips.

"Who's there?" came in a stern and determined voice from the bed. "Speak! or by the great Eternal! I'll fire!"

CHAPTER XI.
A DOUBLE MURDER – AN UNCEREMONIOUS VISIT

There was the slightest possible movement at the foot of the bed, and then, just as the mining company's treasurer was about to pull the trigger, a blow descended on his breast, and he fell over dead, bathed in his own heart's blood.

His wife heard the blow, heard the revolver drop from his hand, and felt the jar as her husband fell dead by her side.

A cry of fear and agony arose to her lips; but ere she could give it utterance, a hand closed about her throat, and speedily she lost all consciousness.

"It vos all right now, Parney. You can sthrike a light as soon as you vant to," whispered Jake cheerfully. "These two von't give us no more trouple."

Barney hastened to light a candle, and then, having cautioned Jake to lock the bedroom door, entered the inner room, and began a careful examination of the safe.

It had not a combination lock, and he had only to find the key to be able to open it with the greatest ease.

An instant's reflection satisfied him that the key would most probably be in one of the dead man's trousers pockets.

Hurrying back, therefore, into the bedroom, he looked around for that useful article of wearing apparel.

He soon found it, and in the right-hand pocket found the key on a bunch with a dozen others.

In another moment he was back to the safe, and had the door open.

By this time Jake was at his side, and as Barney opened drawer after drawer, and brought forth packages of bank-notes and bags of specie, his excitement was intense and his happiness almost complete.

At length the safe was stripped, and the treasure had been carefully stowed away in the capacious pockets of the two burglars.

Barney was just shutting the safe door, and Jake was making sure that not a single gold piece had been dropped upon the floor, when a deep and hollow groan from the next room startled them both.

"Great Cæsar! what was that?" gasped Barney.

"Father Abraham! but it vos der dead man's ghost," muttered Jake, with a shiver.

"Did – did you kill the woman?" Barney at length managed to stammer forth.

"No, Parney; I only schust choked her a leetle."

"Oh, ah! that's it, then," exclaimed the other, greatly relieved. "Go back and gag her, or she'll be coming to and having the whole house roused before we can get out of it, confound her!"

Jake readily undertook this mission, and seizing a bed-sheet, endeavored to stuff it into the woman's mouth.

But she had already recovered consciousness; and clinching her teeth tight together, resisted all his efforts to gag her.

At length, growing impatient and desperate, he once more grasped her by the throat, and when at last he released his hold, there was no longer any necessity for filling her mouth with the sheet. Her spirit had gone to join that of her murdered husband.

"Have you fixed her, Jake?" asked Barney, approaching the bed.

"Schust hold der light here till ve see."

Barney advanced with the candle.

"Yes, dot vos all right," said the Jew, complacently. "She von't make no more noise ter-night, I pet you."

"By Jove, Jake," exclaimed Barney, with some show of compunction, "I'm afraid we've carried this thing a little too far – further, in fact, than there was any necessity for."

"Schust look you, Parney. If I hadn't done for der man, he would have finished me, you pet, pesides rousing der bolice vid his tamned bistols. Und as for der old gal, she wouldn't open her mouth, und so, as it vos growin' light, and ve hadn't no time to tarry here, vy, I schust choked her a leetle und dot vos der last uv her. How vos I to know dot she would schlip her vind so easy?"

"Well, well, we've no time to dispute about the matter now. Let's get to Sadie's place the easiest way we can, and then settle how we shall get down to New York."

"All right, I'm villing," and unlocking the bedroom door, and locking it again from the outside, they hurried down to the main hall, taking the key with them.

Cautiously Barney unlocked the outside door and peered into the street. There was not a living soul in sight.

"Vos it safe to venture out?" asked Jake in a whisper.

"I don't know; I see no one," was the answer.

"Vait a minute!" exclaimed Jake, approaching the hat-rack. "Schust you put on dot great coat and blug hat, and I vill put on dese."

"The very thing!" cried Barney, in a tone of satisfaction; and seizing the murdered man's overcoat and hat, he put them on, while Jake appropriated a smaller coat and a Derby.

Their own soft hats they thrust into their pockets, knowing too much to leave them behind.

"Now," said Barney, "we may venture forth," and noiselessly opening the door, they stepped outside, closing the door behind them.

After listening for a moment in the shadow of the porch, they glided down the steps, and hurried up the street, Jake a dozen feet or so in advance of Barney.

They met no one; and in less than ten minutes were before Sadie Seaton's door.

Jake rang the bell, but was quickly satisfied that the peal had not roused the slumbering Sadie.

He was about to ring again, when Barney exclaimed, warningly:

"Hold up! here comes some one. We'd better not be seen here."

"Dot vos so," assented Jake. "Come round to der pack door."

"Good, we'll do that. There's only a lock there – no bolts, and if the door's fastened, I'll soon open it."

"Put ve'd petter know who's coming," suggested Jake.

"You're right, my boy; we'll hide round the corner of the house here, and see who passes."

They had hardly concealed themselves, when two men arrived in front of the place and slowly passed.

"Seth Stricket!" exclaimed Barney, as soon as they were out of hearing.

"Und dot meddlin' George Morgan, confound him!" added his companion.

"Well, let 'em go," said Barney. "If they are looking for us, I fancy they won't find us."

"No, not schust yet, anyvay. Come," and they hurried round to the back door.

This time they did not wait to ring or knock, but using his nippers, Barney speedily opened the way for them to enter the house, and they entered accordingly, closing and locking the door after them.

Jake, as one familiar with the premises, led the way to the second story; and entering a sitting-room, lighted the gas, and then approaching a bedroom door, knocked.

After the knocking was repeated, a little more impatiently, a voice demanded in no very pleasant tone:

"Who's there, and what do you want?"

"It vos me, my tear," answered Jake; "und I vont your own sweet self, und dot tamned quick, too."

"What! is it you, Jake? How did you get in?"

"Yes, it vos me, I told you, und I valked in."

"I'll be out in a minute," and sure enough in less than a minute a very pretty girl, not more than nineteen years of age, clothed in a dressing-gown and slippers, made her appearance.

"Ah! you are not alone!" she exclaimed, starting back at sight of Barney.

"No, my tear, dis vos my friend, Parney Hawks; you know him, I pelieve?"

"Yes, I have seen him before, and am very glad to see him now. What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Vos dere any whiskey in der house, my tear?"

"I think there is a little. I will go and see. Take seats, please."

"Vid der greatest bleasure, I assure you. Put first, my tear, how vos der vinders?"

"All right, the blinds are tightly closed, and, as you see, the curtains are drawn."

"Dot vos goot. Now hurry up vid der whiskey."

The girl went out, and soon returned with a bottle and three glasses on a salver.

"Dot vos right, my tear, you will trink vid us."

"Of course;" and setting the salver down on a center-table, she took a chair near the Jew.

He filled the three glasses, and handed her one.

"Your health, my tear," he said, taking a swallow of his own.

"And yours," she replied. Then in another tone:

"What's the news, Jake? What brings you here at this time of night?"

"Vhat should pring me here put der desire to see your own sweet face."

"Get out, I know better than that. Besides, if you had only come to see me, you wouldn't have brought your friend with you."

"Vell, dot vos apout so, Sadie."

"Then what's up? Why don't you tell me?"

"You vos still feelin' a leetle interest in your old lover, I suppose?"

"Do you mean Hen?"

"Yes, I mean Hen."

The girl blushed slightly.

"Of course I feel some interest in his welfare," she said; "that's but natural."

"Quite natural, my tear – quite so. Und you vould like to see him brosper, eh?"

"What do you mean? What are you driving at, Jake?"

"You know you dold me you gave him some hint of der old voman's gold."

Sadie started, and cast a glance of apprehension toward Barney.

"Oh, dot vos all right, Sadie. Parney was Hen's barticular friend, und he schust heard to-night dot der bolice hav' tumbled to his leetle racket, und are goin' ter arrest him in New York, so he vos awful anxious to see him und put him on his guard."

"Why don't he see him, then?"

"For a very goot reason; he ain't quite certain where to find him."

Sadie became very thoughtful.

At length she turned to Barney, and asked:

"What do you want – what do you expect of me?"

"You know where Hen is most likely to be found?" he said.

"I suppose so."

"Tell us, then; it may be the means of saving him from the gallows."

The girl started.

"Is there any danger of that?" she asked.

"Danger?" exclaimed Jake. "I should schust say so!"

"Do you think so?" she demanded, turning once more to Barney.

"I reckon Old Spicer's on his track," he answered; "and if that's so, his only chance is my getting to him before that old rat can find him."

The girl looked distressed.

"I don't know what to do," she said. "Hen made me take an oath that I would give his address to no one, and that I would not let even his best friend know the places he frequents in New York."

"Well, my dear, of course you can do exactly as you have a mind to about it; but if you don't tell us, his chances of escaping the hangman are pretty slim, I can assure you that." Then turning to his friend, with a solemn air:

"Come, Jake, we must be going; it won't do to linger here any longer."

"Dot vos so!" exclaimed the wily Jew, starting to his feet.

CHAPTER XII.
BARNEY AND JAKE START FOR NEW YORK

"Oh, dear! oh, dear! What shall I do? What shall I do?" moaned the poor girl in great distress.

"Do?" exclaimed Jake. "Why, put us on der fellow's drack, und so, if you care anything apout him, save his life."

"I will tell," she exclaimed, taking a sudden resolution – "at least I will put you in the way of finding him."

"All right, my tear, drive on, und pe quick apout it, for ve must get out of this pefore tay-light."

"That's so," said Barney.

"Do you know where Hudson Street is?" asked Sadie.

Barney nodded.

"Yes," said Jake, "ve know."

"Well," continued Sadie, "at No. 515 there is a saloon."

"Who keeps it?"

"A fellow named Taylor."

"Hain't been there long, I reckon?"

"Not so very long, I believe."

"Is he a young fellow?"

"Yes, not more than twenty-one or twenty-two."

"Is he Hen's pal?"

"And we can hear of him at this saloon?"

"Yes."

"He's got a lady friend in New York, hasn't he?"

"I – I believe so," faltered poor Sadie.

"Know her name?"

"I believe it's Bell."

"Bell what?"

"No! no! Bell is her last name."

"Oh! is it Cora Bell?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Does she live on Sixth Avenue?"

"I believe so."

"Know the number?"

"I – I – there! I mustn't tell you any more."

"No matter, I can find her if I should happen to want to see her. But one question more: Hen isn't Hen when he travels in New York, I'm told?"

"No, not always, I believe."

"How do you address your letters when you write to him?"

She considered for a moment.

"Of course you are really his friends," she said at last, "and I will tell you."

"Well, we are somewhat anxious to know."

"In New York he goes by the name of Frank Clark."

"Frank Clark! Ah! of course. I ought to have remembered that. Come, Jake, one more drink, and then we must really tear ourselves away from this lovely young lady."

They filled their glasses, drained them, and prepared to go.

"What! are you both going?" asked Sadie, regarding them with a look of disappointment.

"We must go," said Barney. But understanding her look, he quickly turned to his companion and added:

"Come, Jake, you wouldn't drink the lady's liquor and leave nothing in its place, I hope. Come! come! old fellow, be generous for once in your life, and give her a yellow boy."

Jake looked annoyed; but with the best grace possible, pulled out one of the Eagle Gold Mining Company's ten-dollar gold pieces, and throwing it into Sadie's lap, said:

"There, my tear, don't never say I vos gif you noddings."

"And there, my beauty," added Barney, tossing another gold piece to her. "Please, hereafter set me down among your friends."

"Oh! thank you – thank you both," she exclaimed, fervently. "God knows I needed this," and bursting into tears, the poor girl fled from the room.

"Come," said Barney, hurriedly, "we'd better get away while we can," and slipping down-stairs, they went out at the side door.

"Vell, vhich vay now?" asked Jake, as they hurried down the street.

"I've been thinking," responded Barney, "and if the thing can be managed, we ought not to take the train anywhere this side of Milford."

"I can manage it," said Jake, quietly.

"How?"

"I know a livery-stable keeper vot vos all right."

"Who is he?"

"Isaac Rosenwasser."

"Where's his place?"

"On George Street; und, so 'elp me gracious, dere vos vun uv his carriages now, on dot corner."

"Do you know the driver?"

"I vill run und see. He vos in dot saloon, I guess."

Jake hurried across the street and peered into the saloon.

The driver was there, and he knew him.

He called him out, beckoned to Barney, and sprung into the carriage.

"Where to, Jake?" asked the driver.

"Go out Congress Avenue, und then I vill told you."

The driver took the direction named, and in due time had crossed West Bridge and entered the town of Orange.

"Where now?" he asked.

"Old Milford," was the brief reply.

"The devil!" exclaimed the driver, "you're giving me a pretty job at this hour in the morning."

"Never mind, my tear fellow," said Jake, encouragingly, "ve vill make it all right vid you."

"All right it is, then," cried the driver, cheerfully, and he started his horses toward the Milford turnpike.

Slowly they ascended the long hill, passed the old toll-gate, and then were fairly on the way to the station from whence they hoped to start for New York.

In due time they reached the place, dismissed the driver with a liberal fee, and when the local express came along sprung aboard.

Two hours later they landed in the Grand Central Depot, and without loss of time started for Hudson Street.