Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 437 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

22 Deep Duke, the Silent Sleuth. ——— —— er mm ee ——™ and gagged in a primitive way. No friend could be relied upon to get Deep Duke out of his danger. That he was to be drowned like a dog he well realized. He was thrust into the sack, and with that movement disappeared, it seemed certain, from the eyes of the world forever. It was of stout material, commonly called burlap, and when ‘the moutao had been tied, the kidnappers re- garded their work as practically done. ‘‘Now hustle around and finish the job,” ordered the leading man. ‘‘Jim and Sam, go out and get all ready. Don’t forget the weight.” ** Where is it?” ‘** Didn’t you see where I put it?” sé No. > ‘Then I'll go with you, Tom, you stay here,” The trio went out and proceeded to “ finish the job.” A heavy stone was loaded into the cab, and various other things done to aid in the work they had on hand. This done, they re- turned to the little room and paid attention to their prisoner. The bag was lifted, carried to the cab and thrown in, and then Jim threw open the stable-door, which had been closed when their prisoner was brought in. ‘* Don’t forget to use caution,” the leader urged, showing some 7 ee i **Oh! we'll be fly,” Jim assured, **Don’t drive fast and court attention, and bi you get to the boat, co your job up quick- ** All right.” So saying Jim mounted to the box, Sam en- tered the cab with the man in the sack, and the vehicle rolled out of the stable. The leader watched it out of sight, and then turned to bis remaining companion. ‘* A confounded delicate job,” he observed, “‘T hope they won't bungle it, for if that cursed sleuth gets loose again he will make it hot for us all, e's got poe Brown in quod, and I sup- e | “ Quietly, now, Mr. Man,” said the detective, as calm asever. ‘‘ Don’t kick up any row, for you see that I hold the reins. You have played your cards and lost, and you perceive that I hold the ‘ joker.’” He touched the revolver muzzle against the man’s face and smiled pleasantly, but his ex- pression suddenly grew stern and he sharply added: **'You are my prisoner! Don’t dare to make any disturbance, or it will be the worse for you. Hold out your hands!” The kidnapper was brave enough ordinarily, but he was still stupefied by his great surprise. He extended his hands without any clear idea of what he was doing, and in a moment more handcuffs were upon his wrists, and his last hope of resistance was gone. **@ueer world, this,” pursued Duke, serenely. ‘* A goes up and B comes down, and then the old machine reverses and the rest of the alpha- det has a show. If you will excuse such a mis- erable play upon words and letters, Pll remark that I now think ‘I’ am up and ‘ U’ are down.” By this time the man found his tongue and began to swear profusely, but Dorgan cut him short. ‘Take it easy; you are in the toils and can’t get out. The explanation is simple. You left me and ‘Tom’ in the little room yonder, to- gether. I got out of the sack and put Tom in, in my place. You see, when your men tied me they made a mess of it, as I knew they would. [ fooled them on my wrists, and they tied so loosely that, once in the sack, it was easy for me to get free. This done I used my pocket- knife and cut the string of the sack. hen I came out I put Tom in. Of course he wanted to resist, but I knocked him down and the rest was gS Possibly Tom will suffer by the ex- change, but you see I am all right.” ‘‘ What cursed stupidity!” groaned the kid- recommend her husband he was out of work, and wanted a ition. idid so, and he went to Bergnam’s. hat recommendation taught me the worse than folly of recommending a man of whom my personal knowledge was small—a too-common mistake among business and public men, _“* At that time I knew nothing against Wood- side; I took the wife’s word that he was honest and capable; but be soon opened all our eyes. He deserted his wife, and has never since been seen or heard frora by her or any of us. That is why I say he was a scamp.” _ * And his wife, nee Agnes Benson, is still liv- ing?” questioned Dorgan. +6 Yes. ?? The detective was silent for several moments, This revelation put a new aspect to the case. He had never before supposed Woodside to be a bigamist, for Claudia’s mother was dead when the Mrs. Zachary Rose of Bangor became his wife, but this changed the appearance of things greatly. The professor’s legal wife had been living when Agnes Benson nominally became Mrs. Woodside, Truly, the further Dorgan investigated, the darker the case became, ‘*Mr. Oates,” he finally added, ‘‘ have ever met Professor Archibald Woodside?” ‘No; though, of course, I know him well b reputation, He would hardly be proud of his namesake,” * Scarcely,” Duke dryly replied. do you think you would recognize your side if you were to see him now?” , panty © I never forget a face,” ‘**T would like to see Mrs. Agnes Woodside.” ** You can, and shall, for she is in my house at this moment. She has done Mrs. Oates’s dressmaking for years. I will call a servant and summon her,” Dorgan sat in silence while this was being you ** Now, sir, ood- ‘pose he'd like the rest of us.” napper. done. The case was widening as he proceeded, Sam was thinking about the same thing as he o Fou did make a botch of it, but I find no | and seemed to grow formidable. There was sat in the cab, his knees touching the bagged- | fault, Now, let me ask why you kidnapped | only one wav in which Professor Woodside could up man. The latter did not seem reconciled to | me?” have been the Woodside known to Mr. Oates. his position, and squirmed about a good deal, but Sam had strong arms and he held him tight. “‘T'll be glad when the blamed critter is in the river!” he muttered, bestowing a kick on the prisoner. ‘‘ That’s the only safe place for a de- tective.” In due time the cab rolled out on a pier—a dark, deserted place; and Jim and Sam decided that the ‘‘ coast was clear.” They hurriedly lifted out their burden and lowered him toa boat which they had had barrie This had not been done without some trouble, for he kicked and squirmed about like an eel, but, once in the boat, Sam sat on the sack while Jim pulled out into the river. Owing to the darkness they were not likely to be observed, and considering their purpose, Duke Dorgan’s chances of seeing the dawn of another day seemed small. When they had gone what seemed a proper distance Jim ceased rowing and Sam arose. Then the man in the sack began to squirm all the harder, and a muffled voice sounded from his place of captivity. ‘**Chuck him over!” said Jim, angrily. ‘‘ He’ll be yellin’ out, yet. Is the stone tied to him?” ‘ Yes ” ‘* Then over he goes!” They began to lift, but, just then, the*mouth of the sack was burst open and an audible voice issued therefrom: “Hold on!” it said. ‘‘ For heaven’s sake hold on. I ain’t the detective—I am Tom Perry!” Jim and Sam started back in dumfounded surprise. They knew that voice; they knew the speaker; but how to account for his presence they did not know. The man in the sack was ‘not Duke Dorgan, but one of their own com- rades, and a man who had helped pag the de- tective! What meant this startling fact? CHAPTER XXVIII. . ANOTHER WOMAN IN THE CASE. Ir the men in the boat were surprised, their leader, who remained at the stable, had equal cause for amazement as he turned around after closing the door, as mentioned in the previous chapter. is remark was procaney answered by the only man then remaining with him: ‘* That’s about so!” The kidnapper started and looked at the er more closely. The voice did not sound like Tom’s, yet who else could have answered? His companion stepped into better light and coolly added: ‘Yes, sir, you are about right; ‘that cursed detective’ would like the rest of you!” ‘The Saunaper recoiled. His companion was not his man, Tom, but Duke Dorgan, the detec- tive! , The villain stood in dumfounded amazement. He had just put Dorgan in a sack and sent him to be cast into the river, yet here he was, alive, netive, and looking very dangerous. In the name of all,that was wonderful, what did it mean? Refore he had settled this at us head, and Dorgan’s duis shoulder. int arevolver was ree hand rested on **T won’t tell.” ‘* Somebody set you on. Who?” ‘*1 refuse to say a word.” ** It will be better for you.” ** Not one word!” The kidnapper spoke doggedly, but Dorgan plied him with questions persistently. It was a vain effort, and the detective gave it up after some minutes. He was afraid the other men would return and turn the tide again. Not caring to linger there, he opened the door and led his prisoner out. He expected strong objections to _poing to Jersey City, but not one was made, He took the man over the ferry, and soon had him in a cell near Brown, the other prisoner, There he once more tried to mer him to talk, but with as poor luck as be- ore. The fellow would not explain anything. Giving it up, at last, Dorgan went home. He had come out of his latest adventure with colors flying, but he saw the need of greater caution in future, Hisenemies were determined to get him out of the way, and he must be on his guard at every pe 2 However, he hoped to soon bring the Wood- side case to a close, and then his prisoners would get their deserts for attacking him, if nothing more, He did not forget the appointment at the minister’s house the next day, and at the stipu- lated hour he found his way to that place. r. Bergnam was already there, and Dorgan was soon with him and Mr. Oates. The minister was a pleasant, benevolent-look- ing old gentleman, and when he was asked if he remembered the Archibald Woodside whom he recommended to Bergnam, he promptly an- swered that he did. ‘| think, however, that I made a bad mistake in recommending him,” he added. ‘‘ Woodside turned out badly.” ‘*TIn what way?’ Dorgan asked. “The scamp ran away and left his wife.” ‘‘ His wife!” echoed the detective. cc Yes. ” **Did you know her?” **T did, and do. She has been a member of my church for thirty years—ever since I’ve preached in Jersey City. ‘ ‘*¢ And still lives here?” or **Mr. Oates, may I ask you to tell what you know about her, and about Woodside?” “Certainly, though it is precious little I know about him—I wish I had known less, When I came to my present church one of the members thereof was a dressmaker, whose name was Agnes Benson. She was about twenty-six years old, and unmarried. ‘“*T found her an estimable woman, though one of ordinary education and mental ability. Some years later, about 18—, I think, she came to me to be married, and I performed the cere- mony. The groom’sname was Archibald Wood- side. They were married, and I occasionally saw bim, though he never attended day-service. Sometimes he was at the evening prayer-meet- g. ‘*Finally she came to me, and asked me to ee | a ee Ee UN UUUEnRnRENUEIIERRIIRR EIR EEIER eee -_ ———E—————— = a _ —— ee —_——— ee ee The man of science had then, or, rather, a part of the time, been living with Claudia’s mother, and to have figured as Agnes Benson’s husband, he must have lived a double life. Such things he knew were not unheard of, but—- The dressmaker’s entrance interrupted his meditations, She was a tall, slender, sad-faced woman, plainly of ordina:y ability, yet with a degree of refinement. Duke at once set her down as an honest, true woman. Mr. Oates opened conversation delicately, and she was not averse to talking. She told what she knew about her runaway husband. ‘*I made a great mistake in marrying him,” she said with a sigh, ‘‘but he gained my confi- dence and I went on blindly. He neglected me from the first, but specious excuses about busi- ness made me overlook his frequent absences,” | ‘*Do you mean that he did not remain at ween much, after your marriage?” the detective asked, ‘ That is it, exactly. We boarded at my sis- ter’s, or I did; at least; he seldom was there at meal-time, but he did not average over three = ge at home during a week. He explained all this undera plea of business, and I was blind for along time. I ought to have suspected, for he often came during the day and stayed a few hours, but still there was the old explanation— business. Ashe said that he was agent for a New York house, and in and out of town as his ew ag“ sent him, this did not seem strange en. It did not seem strange to Duke Dorgan. Here was what looked like positive proof of a double life. The professor had bad two wives, and had divided his time between them. a this theory it was easy to build the whole case. ‘Would you recognize your husband if you were to see him again, Mrs. Woodside?” ‘* Why, of course.” “Then I would like to have you, Mr. Oates and Mr. Bergman, go with me to see a certain san who, I think, will prove to be your hus- Mrs. Woodside demurred. He had basely deserted her, and if he was alive, well, and liv- ing in Jersey City, it was all the more reason why she should never again see so unworthy a person. Dorgan, however, carried the point, and the quartet left the house and started for the profes- sor’s, That hemmed-in person certainly appear- ed to be at the end of his rope! CHAPTER XXVIII. A MATTER OF IDENTITY. DuKE DorGan had a definite plan in view. He did not by any means intend to take all this tribe into Professor Woodside’s house, He be- lieved he had good reasons for conducting the — secretly, and he had a way arranged to o this. He knew that the residence adjoining Wocd- side’s was or then unoccupied, and thet, though a high, tight board fence separated the two, there was a connecting door in the fence, — ee ee = Gomiecbooks 2 _o os £2: a is. co t ee > i i EE a cg a ge -—. ne Se es ae : 7