Beadle's Dime Library No. 146 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Pa The Doctor Detective. ————— ‘““We know better!” exclaimed the chief, sternly. ‘‘ You attended the death-bed of a member of our band lately, and he, poor, craven wretch, horrified at the near approach ot death, and terrified at the prospects of the Hereafter which he was so near, thought to make his peace with Heaven by betraying the secrets of his associates. He Srearky. > you as the medium to communicate the facts to the authorities, but we are better served than is the superintendent of the police of New York. We knew that we had been betrayed in twenty minutes after the tale was told to you. At six to-night the secret was confided to your care, at seven the traitor breathed his last, and by that time we were fully prepared to meet the eonsequences of his treachery. A watch was placed upon you, and if you had attempted to go directly to head-quarters to lay your infor- mation before the police authorities—as no doubt the traitor counseled you to do, for he as well as any man living knew how far-reaching are our arms and how extended our information —you would never have been allowed to reach Mulberry street alive. A desperate hand had been selected. You would have been stricken dead in the street with one well-directed blow, and the newspapers would have had another mysterious murder to chronicle. But you doubtless thought that the morning would do as well as the night, and that to-morrow you would make the revelation which would destroy the White Band, root and brarch. You did not act promptly, but we did, and the result is that we hold you a prisoner, and with death so near, that if you do not feel the cold breath of the King of Terrors it is a wonder.” ‘* Will you permit me a few words of expla- nation?’ the doctor asked, slowly. **Go on: when a man has so little time to talk in this world, as you have, it would be a shame to deny him speech.” “Your information is not correct; I know absolutely nothing in regard to your band. I did attend a dying man this afternoon and re- mained with him until death placed a seal upon his lips, and just before be died, he did confide a secret to me, but he never mentioned a single word in regard to any secret organization. e communication was made in a whisper, for he had not strength to speak aloud; no ear but mine could possibly have heard the words. Your spy was deceived; he imagined that the dying man was confiding your secrets to me, but it wasnotso. I swear to you that it is the truth wpon my honor as a man.” ‘‘A very reasonable explanation,’’ observed the shrouded chief with a nod; ‘‘ you will ex- cuse me, though, if 1 ask for proof that this s is true?” What oof can I give you?” “Re what the dying man did say.” The doctor hesitated for a few moments. “*T cannot,” he said, at last, slowly but firmly. ‘Tt is a secret, and I am bound by oath not to disclose it.” A. mocking, jeering laugh came from the lips of the chief of the band. “Oh, what a set of idiots you must take us for!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Do you think that fora single instant we will believe this tale? Why, man, it is your life that 1s at stake!” ‘* And on the other hand my honor also.” ‘* Bah! lost honor can be regained, but a life, never!” ‘‘ 4 man without honor might as well be with- out life.” _ All three of the disguised men shook their heads in evident disapproval of this sentiment; they did not agree with it at all. ‘* You are either a very remarkable man or else you are oP om to play a huge game of bluff upon us,” the chief observed. ‘‘ But I tell you what it is, Doctor Diamond, take us how you will, at any game, or in any way, and you will find that we area terrible hard gang to beat. We are notsatisfied with your explanation, and do nc t believe that itis the truth. It is a clever dodge on your part, and the only thing that you can do to convince us to the contrary is to reveal to us this important secret which the ying man confided to you. Remember! it isa question of life and death!” ‘‘T am bound by oath, and that oath I will not break even to save my life!” answered Dia- mond, firmly. This ieecke resolve did not impress the three very much, for they thought it was only a clever ruse on the part of the captive to escape. e man on the right hand of the seated chief mow be igen “Most worshipful Lord of the Light,” he said, with a low obeisance to the man in the center, ‘‘might not the prisoner avail himself of the article in our charter which permits a stranger under certain conditions to save him- self from any penalty that he may have in- curred, either knowingly or unknowingly?” ‘Well thought, Sword of Mh wari said the chief, approvingly; ‘‘ you will his spon- ‘* He needs a second one; what say , Sword 9 ee, will you join your brother in this ac ‘*T vill,” responded the shrouded figure on the left hand, with a most unmistakably Jewish accent, and as the doctor heard the voice he compressed his lips to avoid betraying himself, for he was sure that he recognized the speaker. The chief then again addressed the prisoner: ‘‘As you have doubtless surmised, if you do not know our secret as you assert, and as you surely are aware if you are in possession of it, our society, which is known as the White Band because, when we meet in council, we re- semble ate nae of spirits bright, all robed in spotless white, And conquering palms we bear,’ is essentially a benevolent organization, and formed, primarily, to right the wrongs under which the world at large really suffers, As you are probably aware, being a student, the state of things at present is radically wrong. One man has.an income of a thousand dollars a day, and another man has absolutely nothing. Now, as far as the members of our society are con- cerned, we intend to right this really gigantic wrong. Our process is an extremely simple one. e find out some man who has a great deal more money than he is entitled to and we relieve him of some of his surplus funds, dis- et the money among our brotherhood. You will perceive that we strike at the very root of the evil, without any foolish flummery ; no noise—no publicity.” ‘“‘ But some trouble, sometimes,” observed the doctor, very dryly. “Oh yes; that is the history of all attempts to radically change the course of existing af- fairs; individuals must suffer, so that the pub- lic at large may be benefited. And now that you know about our organization, you will be prepared to decide in regard to this matter sug- ted by my esteemed friends here. They think that a man like yourself would be a de- sirable addition to our ranks, and that is my opinion, too, for in your capacity asa medical man you will be able to obtain information which will be ef great value tous. Notas you are situated at present, though; you must come out of your obscure quarters and take a resi- dence up-town where you can obtain patients worth having. It will require money, of course, toset youupinthe proper style, but we will attend to that. How does the idea strike you?” ‘In plain words you wish me to join your band, which, I take it, is an organization of rob- felons and possibly murderers.” “We never use violence if we can help it, but if we happen to be so unfortunate as to be cornered, why then, of course, self-preservation is the first law of nature,” the chief replied, coolly. ‘s le am afraid I shall have to decline. I am not of a covetous nature; lam content with my present position and the income which it pro- duces, and I do not care to become connected with your scheme, which, to my mind, offers more chances for the State Prison and the hal- ter than anything else.” ‘‘Do not decide rashly,” cautioned the other; ‘‘ it is life that you are refusing.” ‘‘T am a fatalist,” the doctor replied, with cold disdain. ‘‘ What is to be will be. If lam fated to die by your hands, why, it is my des- tiny and I cannot avoid it.’ ‘Two chances for life you have; make us certain that you do not know our secret, by re- vealing the one which you say was intrusted to you, or join our band. ‘‘ Neither the one nor the other.” ‘Then death waits for you—a horrid, linger- ing death, ten times worse than the rope of the hangman ean give.” The chief arose from his seat and plucked off the black cloth which covered the object upon which he had sat, and, as the doctor had sus- pected, it was a coffin—br ‘ach a coffin, it was safe to say, as the eye of ..a.: had never looked It was no common stuff, no rose- wood casket, but made of solid gold, and richly ornamented with precious stones. In itself it represented a fortune, and even the calm and immobile doctor stared as the cloth was pulled aside and the wonderful thing re- vealed in all its richness, ‘‘ Well, how does this strike you?” questioned the shrouded chief. ‘‘ You see in one r we intend to usher you into the other world in a first-classmanner. Your funeral won’t amount to much, but when it comes to the coffin, we challenge the world to produce its eqpads no Egyptian king, no monarch of golden-bearing Africa, or jewel-laden Asia ever had its like, even counting back to the days of Prester John with all its fabulous wealth. And your tomb, too, will be on the same magnificent scale. Oh, we are going to ‘plant’ you splendidly. Be- hold!” : The er stamped his foot and, right in front of the spot where the coffin stood, in the dark; damp ground, a circular cavity, about ten feet in diameter, appeared. It seemed like a gigantic well-hole. , ‘in the golden coffin you will be buried alive, there!” exclaimed the master-spirit of this se- eret band, pointing with outstretched fioger into the horrible void that seemed like the en- trance to the lower wor)! \-here Satan reigns supreme, upon before, **And you will doom me, a stranger to you, aman who never harmed you in the least, to this awful death?” the doctor asked, signs of strong emotion appearing on his countenance. “Yes, and our vengeance will pursue you be- yond the grave, for, after you are dead, we will sell your body to the st™geons to be hacked with sharp knives, as you doubtless have hacked. others’ bodies many a time.” ‘‘ Will you grant me one last request?” ‘* Yes, so long as you do not ask for life, or Pa ee to sell your body after the life is out of it, CHAPTER IV. THE REQUEST. On, have no fear on that score. I am not likely to waste words in asking for that which I am sure you will not grant, and as for this poor mortal shell what care I what becomes of it after the lifeis gone? As well may it be used to enlighten my fellow-men as to rest in the earth, food for worms. The chief of the mysterious White Band was about as cool a hand as could readily be found, but now, for the first time in his life—and that life embraced a career which the pen of fiction could not hope to rival in wild adventure—he was forced to admit that, in the doctor he had met a man who was more than his equal in nerve. If he had been placed in the captive’s position, he knew that he would not have faced peath so coolly, for life was very sweet indeed to him, and he would have struggled desperately to have preserved it. And yet, great as was the doctor’s courage, it. did not inspire any sentiment of pity in the breast of the masked man. On the contrary, he felt a powerful desire to put the other out of the way; some subtle instinct seemed to warn the chief of the league that the helpless captive in the future might do him much harm if he was permitted to live. The feeling was only a sort of vague presenti- ment, but the man was a firm believer in that. sort of thing, and would not go contrary to these mysterious warnings. “Well, what is your request?” ** You desire my death‘ “You must die for our safety.” “Be that as it may, the statement is cor- rect?” «é It is. ”? ‘‘And so long aslam placed in the golden coffin and lowered into this well-hole, which I presume it is, you do not care how I come to my death, whether suddenly or in long and lin- gerin suffering?” ‘*No, Ido not see as it does make much of any difference; I suppose you want us to you outright?’ ‘*No, but I desire a less painful death than the one which you propose iveme. Il have in my medicine-case a small vial of an almost unknown poison. It is from India, and is only known to the natives of that land. Its action is speedy and the sensation not unpleasant, so it issaid. It produces sleep, and from the sleep the ‘partaker wakes in death. It was given me by an old sea-captain whose life I was fortu- nate enough to save in a severe attack of yellow fever. He had come straight from India, and a native doctor, whom he had befriended, gave him this potent stuff, saying that if he ever had an enemy whom he desired to kill without detection, the contents of the vial would enable him to accomplish it, and that, how the deed was commit would never be discovered by any Christian doctor; and that when the potion was once administered there was absolutely no cure, and that death must ensue. The captain took it to please the man, and got rid of it at the first opportunity, for he had no use for such dangerous stuff. He gave it to me to experi- ment upon.” wean now you propose to try if upon your- ‘*'Yes, with your permission.” A sudden suspicion flashed into the brain of the arch-plotter. The coolness of the captive seemed unnatural; was this poison business a device to escape death? It might be a simple, werful narcotic which would throw him into a stupor so closely resembling death that it would pass for death itself, and then when he came into the hands of the medical men the cheat would be detected, restoratives applied and their vengeance frustrated. If this wie so it would explain the coolness of the but at the same time it showed that he had wonderful nerve. ‘Where is this vial?’ “Tn my medicine-case, in the breast-poeket of my coat,” e chief at once himself of the case. In order to do this, of course he had to come quite close to the captive. Lhe doctor then detected a very sweet, but peculiar per- fume which seemed to come from the other. Immediately the idea presented itself that, if hy any lucky accident he should m e to escape from his present peril, and should it into his head to bunt down the men who composed the secret band, this peculiar perfume would be a. very good clew by which to identify this man, who, it was clear, was no common ruffian, Gomiel KS (E(@) JOO