Beadle's Dime Library No. 386 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 —— the northern or Twenty-sixth street boundary of Madison Square, from the east. It attracted the attention of the sole oecupant of the square, a young man who had sat under a tree for hours, with his gaze riveted on the en- trance of the Hotel Brunswick. The coupe came to a sudden stop in the mid- dle of the block. A very large man sprung out, bearing some- thing white in his arms. He deposited his burden on a plot of grass, re- garded it intently for an instant, then darted back into the vehicle, and was driven rapidly away. “T’m in luck this morning!” muttered the lonely watcher, approaching the white object. ** While deep in one mystery, here is a fresh one thrust under my very nose!” He paused after taking a few steps, and, placing his fingers between his lips, sounded a shrill, whistling call. A ragged little boy, with a bootblack’s equip- ment slung over his shoulder, started into view from a near clump of shrubbery, rubbing his eyes. ve Nixey,” said the unknown, ‘“‘ shadow that corner yonder, and don’t take your eyes off the Brunswick entrance.” The lad obeyed in silence, Then, as the unknown neared the white object, he observed a bare-headed man likewise a proaching it on the run from the opposite di- rection. But the next instant, as the nature of the white object was made apparent, he thought of nothing else. ‘‘ Vengeance of Heaven!” he exclaimed, re- coiling; ‘Sit is a human form—the body of a young girl, beautiful and lifeless!” The face of the other man, who now came up, was streaming with blood, and he was panting hard. He was an old man, apparently a Ger- man. ** Ah, I am too late!” hoarsely gasped the new- comer, with a slightly foreign accent, as he flung himself by the inanimate form, ‘‘ It is my ey. beautiful Olga—and dead, dead!” ‘** There is no wound, no sign of violence, that I can see,” said the first comer, stooping to ex- amine the body. “She was sensitive as a flower!” cried the other. ‘*The shock of finding herself in that masked villain’s power would have been enough!” ‘Were you chasing. the carriage from which I saw this poor girl carried but a few moments ago? ‘*Yes, yes! But first I had been knocked senseless, Otherwise [ might have overtaken it. Oh, what a shock is in store for this poor clild’s mother!” ‘* What are you saying?” ‘* Oh, useless words, no doubt! She may also be dead by this time! The masked fiend may have murdered the mother before abducting the daughter!” . ‘What complicated horror is this? Quick! pive me an explanation befor the police arrive. may be of more service than you fancy.” The old man looked the speaker over. He saw a powerfully athletic man, still young, with dark, earnest features and the eye of an eagle, but seedily, almost miserably, clad. No, no!” groaned the old man, dubiously. ‘* You could be of no service, I am afraid.” Then he burst out afresh over the inanimate 1. ‘*Dead! done to death in the charming fresh- ness of her beauty and her gifts!” he raved. ‘‘Ah, if the indomitable detective, whose ser- vices the widow Ashcombe so prayed for, were but here! If Hawk Heron, the detective, could only be found!” A joyous light leaped into the first-comer’s ace. ‘* Why, I am Hawk Heron!” he cried “Tm ible!” “* Bible truth, I tell you!” / ; “Prove it! There is a sign—an infallible mark.” ‘* Behold!” said the younger man, tearing open the bosom of his vest and shirt. Tattooed upon the smooth white chest, in bold relief, was an artistic representation of a hawk, or falcon, in the act of striking down a black vulture in mid-air. The old man gave an eager cry. “ Tis the t detective’s emblem!” he ex- claimed. ‘‘ You are, indeed, Hawk Heron!” By this time daylight had broadened, and a roundsman and two patrolmen made their ap- ance. Hawk Heron, as we shall call the younger man, made them a significant sign, which caused them to regard him respectfully, * Officers, take charge of this poor girl’s body,” said he, after briefly explaining what had hap- pened. ‘‘I will in the mean time accompany this old man to the place where she lived, and then report.” ** All right, Mr. Heron,” said the roundsman, dispatching is subordinates for a stretcher. ou will be responsible for the old man’s ap- pearance when wanted?” ‘* Of course.” Heron then made a parting sign to the lad he Hawk Heron, the Falcon Detective. had posted at the corner, and walked rapidly to the eastward, accompanied by the old German. ‘** Answer my questions as we go along,” said he, The German sive ac groaned, but nodded submis- ly. Who and what are you?” “My name is Wolfgang Schmidt. I ama teacher of music. I live at the Gotham Flats, 16 Montauk place, top floor.” ** What of that poor girl?” ‘*Her name was Olga Ashcombe. She was my pupil. For three months she had been sing- ing successfully at the Thalia Theater. She lived with her mother, a wax-flower-maker, in the floor just under the one I occupy as a bachelor.” ** What of Olga’s abduction?” ‘*T returned home half-an-hour ago from the German Singing Club I belong to. As I was groping my way up the stairs, I met a masked man coming down them, with the half-senseless form of Olga in his arms,” ‘* Half-senseless?” ** Yes; for she was struggling and moaning si Se ‘** How could you note all this when you were groping your way?” “The man carried a lighted candle in his dis- engaged right hand.” ‘** Well, what else did you note?” ‘*Nothing. He at once threw the heavy can- dle-stick at me, cutting my head open, and knocking me senseless.” ‘* What then?” ‘“*T must have recovered very Spree I heard the street door being closed, and then the rattle of wheels, Bleeding and dizzy as I was, I gave chase. You know the rest, mynheer.” ‘* Had you noticed a coupe at the street-door as you entered?” ‘No; but there might have been one there, for all that?” ‘* Are you naturally so unobservant?” ‘* No; but just then my head was full of the songs we had been singing, and the toasts in honor of my adored pupil’s success at the Thalia.” ‘** What was the masked man like?” ‘A great, powerful man, well-dressed, I think. But, how should I know? Oh, misery, misery! I am distracted!” ** Control yourself, Did Olga live alone with her mother?” Tear ** No servant?” **None; but an old woman, Norah, came early every morning, to make the fire and cook their breakfast.” ‘** Well, yonder is the Gotham.” ‘Yes; but you mynheer, must break the news to the widow, I sha’n’t have the courage to But, just as they were entering the build- ing, a window on the fourth floor rattled*open. ‘Murder! murder!” screamed a wrinkled old woman, thrusting out her head. ‘ Police! lice!” “Mein Gott!” gas the muusic-master. ** That is old Norah! hat can have happened to Frau Ashcombe?” ** Follow me!” cried Heron. With the old man at his heels, he dashed into the house and up the flights, Something had indeed happened to the widow Ashcombe! - sd half-dressed dead body lay in her little parlor. The old woman, who had doubtless just dis- covered the fact, still stood at the window chat- tering with fear, as the two men burst into the room, The widow had in life been a singularly at- tractive woman of thirty-five, and she was yet beautiful in death. Dead she certainly was, though at the first glance she presented no more indication of hav- a met a violent death than had her daughter. he old music-master was already in a fresh paroxysm of grief, ‘Dead, too!” he exclaimed, wringing his hands. ‘‘ Murdered, like the daughter, without a wound, without a scar, and doubtless by the same remorseless hand!” —<$ $$ ** You think so?” ** Yes: Olga would else have proved a trouble- some witness.” “Oh, if Olga herself were not dead—if she could but speak!” ** Out of the question. Did you know anything of this woman’s past history ?” ‘* Nothing.” ‘* Nothing whatever?” ‘**On that subject both mother and daughter were secret as the grave.” ** You never thought her widowhood might be pretended ?” ‘* No; but she seemed constantly haunted by a secret dread.” ‘* As if afraid of being tracked—as if under a pursuing menace?” “ Yes ”? ‘*So! Was she conversant with any foreign tongue, do you know?” ‘Yes; with both German and Russian, though oy eee * “Enough! Count Ivan Kotzka, there was ever a method in your murderous madness! Methinks I recognize it in this double crime!” This was said abstractedly. ** How?” cried the music-master. a clew to the perpetrator?” The detective bit his lip. **On your life, repeat not what just escaped me!” said he, impressively. ‘‘ Now, one more question.” a poe mynheer.” ‘Why had this r woman prayed for the services of Hawk Heron?” ‘*T do not know.” ‘* She hinted no explanation?” ‘Only that she had known you abroad in bet- ter days—before her husband’s death, and when Olga was a mere child.” ‘* Nothing more?” ‘* Nothing, save that your presence might save her from some impending misfortune.” ‘* Did she never mention the name of Kotzka?” ‘* Never in my hearing.” Hawk Heron’s head sunk upon his breast. For a moment he seemed the prey of powerful and agonizing emotions, from which he was aroused by the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs, ‘* Here are the police,” said he, starting. ‘‘ Re- member, old man, not a word of what has passed between us!” . ‘*Not a word, mynheer, But, then—” ‘* Fear not fortheresult! With Hawk Heron, the detective, on his trail; the doer of these awful deeds shall be surely hounded to the gib- bet’s foot.” ‘* You have CHAPTER II. HAWK HERON ON THE TRAIL, THE old woman Norah, bad spread the news so effectually that, of the group of policemen who now put inan appearance, the greater num- ber were at once employed in keeping back the crowd of morbid sight-seers. ° It was evident that the sergeant in command, to whom Hawk made his report, held the detec- tive in the highest estimation. ‘‘Had I better arrest the old German?” was one of his first questions. ‘** By no means,” said Hawk. sible.for him.” ** How about the old woman here?” “Detain her, if you like. But I think both she and Schmidt will pan out more freely with the little they know if let alone.” ‘* All right.” 4 ‘Have you telegraphed to Head-quarters?” **Only a few words.” | ‘‘T shall carry a detailed account there, after saying a few more words to the old German in his own apartments.” Mr. Schmidt’s rooms overhead betokened a musical Bohemian’s eccentric tastes. Besides a medley of musical instruments, there were great numbers of canary birds and other feathered pets hung in cages all about the interior. Mr. Schmidt was still in a dazed condition. ‘* Never again shall I take pleasure in my little home!” he brokenly exclaimed, sinking into a ‘*T'll be respon- | seat. ‘‘My beautiful pupil, my Olga, used to The detective lost no time in dispatching the | old woman for the police, A strange sternness had come into his face. ‘You must compose yourself!” said he, gently igetie Mr. Schmidt aside, and, bending over the y that lay half-extended upon a lounge, he examined the throat and neck. No mystery here as to the murderer’s method, at all events!” “How?” The detective pointed to a slight discoloration of vac throat, and made a significant wrenching gesture, ‘*Garroted!” said he, quietly. ‘‘ The throat was suddenly encircled from behind. There was a serpent-like pressure, a throttling hug, a mur- ‘Ha! | take her lessons here and play with my birds. She will come no more!” ‘‘Brace up!” said Hawk. ‘So much the greater reason why we should avenge her death and that of her poor mother!” . ; pe qh itr suddenly started up, strik- ing his forehead. a Mein Gott!” he cried. ‘‘ Those men must be one and the same!” ‘‘ What men?’ cried Hawk, eagerly, “The masked man on the stairs—the abduc- tor—and the man in the theater!” ‘Oho! This is like business! the theater?” ; , ‘“The immensely big man in the audience, whose serpent gaze so troubled my poor Olga What man in derous twist, and the neck was dislocated as night after night!” effectually as by the hangman’s cord! Pah!” ‘* Horrible!” exclaimed Schmidt. ‘‘ This crime must have gone before the daughter’s abduc- tion. ‘** And was, perhaps, the cause of it.” — ‘Why hav’n’t you spoken of this before?” ‘*T had only thinking-room for these horrible events. Now things are clearer.” ‘Tell me of the man in the theater.” ‘He came regularly for more than a week. Eomicbooks.cot