Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 437 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

eR Be SO Ba a ee er 14 Deep Duke, the Silent Sleuth. out by Sam Loonsby to his companions were reached, and the box rattled over them with a succession of bumps which tore the wood and started the joints. Only that Dorgan was bound to it, and that that particular side did not chance to turn down, these rocks would have taken his life; as it was, he was saved from another danger. Not so easily did the box escape. Beaten and buffeted, not only by thestones but by the water, it suddenly went to pieces like a toy house, and then each piece went skurrying away by itself, And Dorgan? When the collapse came it freed him from the box, and he also discovered that his wrists were no longer bound together. Instantly the instinct of self-preservation came to his aid, and he struck out with the skill of a strong, experienced swimmer. For once he wasted his efforts; the water was by that time running in a smoother channel, but it went with resistless force which took him along with it. He could hear a muffled roar just ahead, and, remembering the{mention of a sewer, suspected that he would soon be dashed into this, ishing to avoid such a mishap he redoubled his efforts, and had just moved to the side of the temporary stream when he felt his legs going over some sort of a fall. He flung out both hands, trying to grasp some- thing, but utterly failed todoso. Down, down he went—bué only for a few feet. Suddenly his descent was stopped by a shock which gave his right arm and shoulder a wrench as though the one was aa Th page from the other, and then i 7 b _to follow and see where it would lead. - water at every step, crumbled and fell in lumps as he went, and a _ ~evoice. ‘‘They have gone, an’ now ol there he hung like ripe fruit on a tree. For a moment he was unable to account for his position, but as he felt the strain on his arm he knew that he was hanging by that alone, and, raising his left hand, he discovered the truth, When his bonds were broken, a noose re- mained tight around his right wrist, with a piece of cord dangling beyond, and it was that cord which had caught upon something and sus- ' pended him where he now was. Dorgan soon discovered that the cord was over a pointed stone, and was about to draw himself up when a light showed in the direction from which he had come. He realized that the men who had doomed him to death were moving, and he took goo | care not to get Into sight until Sam and his friends had finished their search, Then be drew himself up to where he could sit down. He felt lame and sore after his late experi- ence, but was not materially injured. He could not say as much about Abe Benlow. That per- son had disa red, and as Sam had not found him in the cellar, if was evident that he had gone into the sewer. . ty Whether he was dead or alive the detective did not know. armen now began to consider his own posi- tion. hat was he todo next?) Only two ways seemed open to him—to go into the cellar or down the sewer—and neither idea pleased bim. Was there not some other way? He could sce that the cavity where he was sitting extended to the right, and he determined He could not be more than ten or fifteen feet below the surface of the ground, and some opportunity to escape might be vouchsafed him. At any rate, it was worth a trial. He moved along a muddy, disagreeable way, investigating as he went; but, instead of rising, as he hoped, the passage steaciily descended, and he found himself sinking knee-deep in mud and The earth above him, too, new fear assailed him. What if it should cave in an1 bury him alive? ‘“‘Ugh!” he muttered, “I’ve had enough of this. It seems utter folly to follow this passage, and it would make a wretched grave. What was that? A rat, and I should say he was as big asacat. I’ve had enough, sure as I live. [11 turn back, and I am going out through that house, though I’m not in very presentable shape bs for the street.” This was a fact, for he was wet throug!. He retraced his steps and soon stood in the cellar. Sam and his friends had gone above n, and there was no one to oppose him, but the darkness was something remarkable. It seemed to him he had never been in a more dis- A some delay he found the stairs and was ahout to ascend when he heard footsteps above. ; aused. Then the latch of the cellar-door rattled, and Dorgan promptly sought refuge | under the stairs. He did not care for a fight with any of the roughs, for Sam and his gang had left him no weapons. Nevertheless, the door opened, and a light shone faintly on the stairs. Duke glanced up and saw an old man peering down—a vicious- looking fellow to whom old age had brought no chastening or ennobling element of character. This man hobbled down the stairs, showing that he had a lame leg, and soon stood on the ground, only a few feet from the detective. He held his light high above his head and looked around, * Nobodv here!” he then said, in a Bo ariew addy Posey will look for the sparklin’ boys. Ha! ha! Daddy Posey reaps what they sow. Ha! ha!” It was a most unmelodious voice, but he seem- ed to bein excellent spirits, and at once crouched down and began moving across the cellar with his lamp well down and his eyes eagerly scanning the ground. Deep Duke was puzzled to know what he was after, buf as it seemed scarcely safe to ascend the stairs while he was there, he contented him- self with watching. The old man reached the center of the cellar, and then suddenly sprung forward and picked up something small but bright. ‘*Ha! ha!” he laughed, ‘ here’s one o’ the sparklin’ boys! They shakes em out when they go they do, an’ ole Daddy Posey gits’em. Ha! al!’ By this time the detective had discovered what had been picked up; it was a ten or five-cent coin; and this, together with the last words, enabled him to get a clew tothe situation, ** Daddy Posey ” was after money, and it seemed that he had expected it after the going out of the flood, Pamege! he had reaped many a har- vest when Sam thus disposed of his victims, What fell from their pockets the old man took. Duke did not care for whatever coins might be scattered around, but he had a new idea. He was In condition anything but fit for the street, with his wet, muddy clothes, and as he saw that the old man had on a loose coat which, though old, looked clean, he made up his mind that Daddy Posey must exchange with him. The old man would get the best of the bargain in one sense, but the detective would get some- thing which he could wear on the street. Acting on this plan, Duke glided forward, but if was not until he laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder that the latter knew of his proximity. Then Daddy wheeled with a yelp which was probably intended for a cry of alarm. The detective towered before him and held up one hand warningly. **Quiet, my man, quiet! You and I need have no trouble if you are wise, but if you kick upa row, we'll have the biggest circus that ever play- ed the cyclone.” ‘* It’s none 0’ yer business ef I be here!” said Daddy, evidently a good deal excited. ‘*?’m glad you are here.” ** Eh?” ‘I don’t care a cent how much you mouse around here, my good man.” Daddy glared at him suspiciously. **'Yow’re up ter mischief,” he muttered. “Wrong! You sce, 'm not one of the gang that broods in this ranch, and you may pick up all the ‘sparklin’ boys’ you can find. don’t care, What I want may be told in a very few words, First, I want to swap coats with you; second] y, I want you to conduct me safely to the court, Posey’s eyes began to glitter, and he showed his few remaining teeth in an evil way. ‘* 1 won’t do either!” he declared, ‘Yes, you will.” “*T won't!” Deep Duke had no time to waste there, where he might at any moment be discovered by the men who had once doomed him to death, and as it was Paes that the old man was a rascal of the worst kind, the detective did not hesitate to em- ploy rigorous measures, Grasping the old wretch by the collar he glared at him in his fiercest way. ‘* You will do as I tell you, or you are a dead man!” he growled, as furiously as though he meant all he said. sate? looked frightened, but raised his voice shrilly: ‘* Help! Hel—” Just then Dorgan ran him against the wall and took a tighter grasp on his collar. ‘If you are greedy to die, say so!” he ex- claimed. ‘I can accommodate you, I reckon.” ** No, no!” gasped the old fellow, badly scared by so fierce an attack. ‘‘I didn’t mean any harm, en’ I'll do jest ez you say.” ‘** Will you screech again?” se No.” ‘* Will you exchange coats and guide me out safely?” ** Yes, yes! Don’t kill me.” ‘*T ought to kill you, but if you behave I will forego the pleasure it would give me, Now, off with that coat!” ‘*1 paid five dollars for it,” whined Daddy ae & ‘*‘And I paid eight for the one I am giving you, Come, off with it at once.” Very reluctantly the old man obeyed, and the change was soon made, ‘** Now,” continued Dorgan, ‘‘ you are to guide me out. [am a peaceable man when well used, but I caution you against any treachery. If we meet anybody, introduce me as Dave Blivens, a friend of yours, and see that you do it politely. Do you understand?” ‘His manner was stern and sharp, and Daddy earnestly promised to do his part well. Then they ascended the stairs. Duke knew very well that his guide was no real protection, but he would not let him leave until the outside door was reached, for fear that he would at once give \ A the alarm, -_— = — This Daddy did not intend to do under the circumstances. He had taken Duke’s measure- in his mind, and knew he was not a man wits. whom it was safe to trifle, They were soon threading the narrow pass-- ages and small rooms which led tothe court. It was a mean, poorly-lighted way, but the detec- tive felt that all would be well unless Sam Loonsby, Peters and their allies appeared. I{ they did he was not in shape for a fight, for Le: did not have any weapon whatever. He went on with his eyes and ears busy,. ° watching the guide to see that he did not es- cape, and taking care that no assassin stole upon him unawares, CHAPTER XVII. A SURPRISE FOR SOMEBODY, NOTHING occurred to disturb the quiet of the journey to the outer door. Daddy Posey did his work faithfully, and none of the gang who herded there appeared to oppose their departure. When Dorgan once more saw the open air he bade good-night to his guide, complimenting him on his common sense, but if he could have: known all about the old man hs would not will- ingly have parted with him then. he court was nearly deserted, and as the detective crossed it with a free-and-easy swagger none of the loungers gave him particular atten- tion. ' They supposed him one of their own stripe. Once on the street Dorgan lost no time im getting home, and, when there, he got rid of his: rin garments and donned dry ones as soon as ible, he hour was late and he felt that a good night’s rest was needed after bis adventures, but he first went out and visited a telegraph office. From there he sent two telegrams. One was to the warden of the Charlestown, Massa- chusetts prison, and read as follows: ‘*Did you have a prisoner named Archibald Wood- side, in 18—? If so, state crime and particulars.” The second, addressed to Chief of Police, Bangor, Maine, was in these words: *“*Does the name of Zachary Rose, or Archihald Woodside, appear on your criminal list about 18—? If so, what particulars can you give?” Having done this much to forward his cause,, the detective went home and retired. He slept soundly, and, in the morning, read the answers: to his telegrams at the breakfast-table. That. from the Charleston prison-warden was brief: ‘*Archibald Woodside, sentenced for stealing a horse at Newburyport, served here from May 10, 18—, to October 1, 1I8—. We have no further record, nor does any one here remember the map,” Brief as this was it corroborated what Duke had learned, and proved that Sam Loonsby had told the truth in one respect about his old prison associate. The net seemed tightening about the professor, The answer from the Banger chief was some-- what longer, and read thus: ‘““Record shows that Zachary Rose was one of a. gang of counterfeiters here in 1S—. Said record is not complet» enough for us to trace the man; Loth- ing toshow that he was arrested. a foot-note rear s: ‘Wanted by Detective Charles Cross, of New York, forsuspected murder.” Rose lived at No. 6 —— street, and his wife is supposed to be still in Bangor, leading an honest life. hall we investigate further for you?”’ Dorgan read, meditated, and then went again to the telegraph office and sent this message: **Should be very glad to locate some one, or more, of Zachary Rose’s cronies at that date. Can you do- this? No use to search for wife; sheis notin Ban- gor, Answer!’ When this was done he left the office and was soon crossing the North River, en route to New York by Christopher street ferry. He had a well-defined object in view. Few names of the past were better known to him than that of the man mentioned in the dispatch as a detective— Charles Cross. He had retired like an old war-. horse five years before, but Duke knew where to find kim, and he went straight to his house on Jane street. He was soon in the presence of the veteran, and after a brief preliminary conversation he came to business. “Being aware, Mr. Cross, that you have a good memory, I want to ask you to recall one case to your mind,” ** Mention it.” ‘* Tt is the murder, or suicide of Temple Hath- away.” ‘**Ha! you are back in the dim past.” ‘*Confounded dim, I should say. Well, you worked on that case, didn’t you?” | sé Yes, ” ** May I ask with what result?” ‘*T became convinced that Hathaway was a suicide.” ‘* Yet you searched for his assassin?” “Tn a certain way, I did. Like many other officers I heard the Widow Hathaway’s account of her husband’s last hours, and her statement impressed me not a little. I argued that, while he might have told the facts at first to her, his mind had so failed, he being at the point of death, that he did not know what he was sa after she had brought witmesses. I though there might be a case.” . "comreboo Sil