Kitabı oku: «Two Wonderful Detectives: or, Jack and Gil's Marvelous Skill», sayfa 2
CHAPTER III
AN EXTRAORDINARY CROSS-EXAMINATION – A THEORY AT LAST – WHITE SAND AND JERSEY MUD – WORKING ON A SLIGHT CLUE – AN INSPIRATION – THE MAN WITH THE DIARY – A PROSPECT
Again Jack became thoughtful. He appreciated that his questions were developing strange and directing admissions. After some little time he resumed his questions. Our readers will remember that our hero had adopted a line of interrogations in line with a theory that had been suggested in his mind. He asked:
"Did you observe in the securities that they had been wet?"
"No."
"Now mark well this next question, sir: Did you notice any white soil?"
"Great Moses!" ejaculated Mr. Townsend, "young man, who are you – what are you?"
"I am a detective; you have my card; but please answer my question."
"Yes, sir, when I opened the package of securities I observed that some white sand fell on my lap. I remember brushing it off – yes, it's marvelous that you should know this. Are you the heir, or did you meet the man, or do you know him, or did some one tell you, or am I dreaming?"
"None of your propositions, sir, are correct; I am merely shadowing down to facts, going logically to work to find a clue."
"But you must have some basis for these questions?"
"Only such as come to me."
"No facts?"
"None whatever; I never heard of the affair until you related the circumstances to me within the hour, but I am reasoning on certain lines. I may project several theories and consider them all. We have made a little advance; we have learned that the strange man who deposited the fortune with you came from New Jersey; we have reason to believe that his farm was somewhere near the seashore."
"Yes, yes, I see, this is wonderful. Why, the detective business is easy enough if you only know how to go about it."
Jack laughed and said:
"Yes, it is easy, but there is another mystery to solve. How did you cash those drafts on the London solicitors? Did you not receive some intimation from them?"
"They were drafts drawn by themselves on bankers; in fact, they were indorsed by them to no particular individual. I sent them through the regular channel for collection; they were paid and I never received any word from them."
"Didn't your first detective mention them?"
"He did, but I could not remember the names of the drawers of the drafts. Remember, twenty-five years had elapsed."
"Did you make no record of the names?"
"If I did the record was lost."
"And there you lost a clue."
"That is true, I can see now."
"But the securities – did they not contain a name?"
"Certainly, but I have forgotten those names also. Strangely enough, they were indorsed or assigned blank by the London solicitors, and all I had to do was fill in our name and get new certificates; I did so."
"And you claim a great memory?"
"Yes."
"And you do not remember any of the names on those papers?"
"No, you see, I was excited; I may have observed the names at the time, but they passed from my memory. I disposed of them immediately and the matter rested for twenty-five years. It was evident that they had been indorsed in blank on purpose for some one to fill in the name and dispose of them at will. I admit it was a strange oversight for me not to have made a record of the names – indeed, it is possible I did, and that I filed them away with the letter, and if I did so they were destroyed with the letter."
"It does appear," said Jack, "that the fates all combined to hide the identity of the real heirs to that property."
"Yes, but now I recall through your aid that the strange man who deposited this fortune with me did several times speak of possible claimants, and I remember that in the letter he gave me he bade me use my own judgment should any such claimants present themselves."
"And that letter of instructions?"
"It was destroyed along with the other memoranda."
"Now give me a general description of the appearance of the man who deposited the fortune with you."
Mr. Townsend did so, and his description was minute, and as afterward appeared very accurate, and Jack made a mental note of the description, and after some further talk, distinguished by the same singular brightness which had enabled him to ascertain as much as he did in order to establish some slight indices whereon to base a "shadow," he bade Mr. Townsend adieu, promising to call upon him as soon as he had anything definite to report.
Once alone as he walked through the streets going to his lodgings, Jack meditated deeply over the strange narrative he had listened to, and he muttered:
"It is all straight enough save the fact that the old man who has such a good memory in one direction should forget so important a fact as those names, which it appears must have been written on the securities and the drafts; and yet," added Jack, "he appears perfectly frank and honest."
Our hero saw his brother Gil, and the two discussed for a long time the strange incidents, and Jack said:
"It is possible that Mr. Townsend is crazy. He is over seventy years of age and may be laboring under a hallucination. His story does appear incredible; there are elements of romance stranger than any I ever read about. Had the money been deposited with him for a few months, or even years, it would have been different, but a deposit to cover twenty years seems to me almost incredible; and then again, he appeared to be all right."
"You know," said Gil, "some people laboring under a hallucination will tell a straighter narrative than those who are relating facts."
"Yes, I've thought of that, but there is one thing I particularly observed: the old man answered my questions. I revivified his memory, and every time he answered me clearly and naturally, and it is this fact which makes me believe that there may be some truth in his extraordinary narrative. At any rate, I shall investigate the story."
"Have you formed a plan?"
"I have."
Jack revealed his plan to his brother and laid out a course of work for the latter, for which he was particularly fitted. He said:
"I shall proceed in this matter for awhile as though I had not a single doubt as to the authenticity of the old man's tale. I have a theory, and if I am correct I believe I will be able to delve until I strike a clue, and if I do and prove the story correct and solve the mystery, we shall have performed one of the most extraordinary detective feats ever accomplished."
"I will tell you frankly, Jack, I believe you are being played by a crazy man."
"All right, we shall see."
Jack was not a man to be played very easily. He did not accept the story as a whole, nor did he absolutely reject it, as intimated. He determined to make a test, satisfied that he would be able to strike a clue, a sufficient one to at least confirm the story. And such being the case he could then go ahead and investigate further.
Our readers will remember that our hero was working for a clue on an event which had occurred forty years previously, and the difficulty is apparent. He could not trace by the memories of people who could aid him, and on the following day when he crossed to Jersey he became more and more impressed as to the difficulties of the "shadow," and he remarked:
"Accident has favored me several times, but I cannot see how accident can favor me now."
It is strange, but the very word accident suggested a most extraordinary and novel plan. He went to the railroad office, and gaining admission to the presence of the superintendent made several inquiries as to a record of accidents that had occurred on the road. At first the superintendent showed little interest, but when Jack disclosed the fact that he was a detective, the superintendent became communicative and inquisitive, and Jack was compelled to practice great adroitness in evading questions. Finally the superintendent said:
"There is an old man employed in the freight office who has been on the road fifty years. He is a queer old fellow, and has kept a diary of every incident of importance as connected with the road for fifty years. His name is Douglas; he lives in Newark, I think. See him and you will get all the information you require."
Jack left the office and there was a smile of satisfaction on his face, as he remarked:
"By ginger! it does appear as though my thoughts were an inspiration. Why, probably I wouldn't have run across anything like this diary business anywhere else in all the world."
We ask our readers to observe the extraordinary foresight of the detective in developing his theory, in view of the extraordinary denouement that was to follow.
He made inquiries around about this man Douglas, and learned that he was a very peculiar man and possessed of a wonderful memory.
Jack lay around until he managed to see Douglas, and in his own way he made the old man's acquaintance, and finally invited the old gentleman to go to lunch with him. He encouraged Douglas to talk about the road, and as the old man was fond of talking he was pleased to have a listener, especially a man who appeared deeply interested in the history of the road, and Jack professed great interest and finally said:
"I believe I could write up a first-class article on this subject."
"Oh, I see, you are a newspaper man?"
"That is what I am."
"Well, if you will come to my house some evening I'd look over my diary, and I can furnish you some strange narratives. Why, you can make a great article out of it."
"I think I can," said Jack, "and indeed I have such an opinion of it that I am willing to pay you for your time."
"Pay me?"
"Yes."
"Well, now, I ain't looking for any pay."
"Ten dollars would come in handy all the same, I reckon."
"Well, yes; you see, although I've been on this road for fifty years I didn't save much. My daughter didn't marry well, and I've had two or three families to take care of – yes, ten dollars will go a long way with me."
"All right; I've got ten dollars' worth of information out of you already."
Jack handed the old man a ten-dollar bill.
"What!" ejaculated Douglas, his eyes dilating, "do you mean that you will pay me ten dollars for just the little I've said to you?"
"Certainly I will; our papers pay big prices for interesting stories."
"Well, I can tell you some interesting stories – yes, I can do that."
"I'd like to get the article as soon as I can, Mr. Douglas, and I'd be willing to pay you for loss of time if you can get 'laid off' for a day."
"Oh, I can do that any time – yes, I've been on the road so long they favor me."
"Well, I'll tell you, I will be at your house to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. You will have your memoranda all ready, and we will go over it. You see, I want to write about the road forty or fifty years ago."
"I see – yes, I see – and I've got the data."
Jack had perceived that the old man was quite intelligent for his station in life, and having arranged to meet him at his home in Newark, Jack bade him good-day and returned to his lodgings.
CHAPTER IV
A MOST WONDERFUL "SHADOW" – GOING OVER A RAILROAD DIARY – AN INCIDENT THAT WAS SUGGESTIVE – A MARVELOUS DISCOVERY – THE OLD TRUNK – ON THE TRACK OF A GENUINE CLUE
Our readers may think it strange that the detective should go out of his way to listen to an old man's tales of a railroad, but Jack had become possessed of an idea. His idea may have been "far-fetched," as they say, but he believed he was building on a good logical basis; at any rate he was sufficiently prepossessed in favor of his theory to determine to make a fair test, and little did he dream how straight to the mark he was going. He resolved, however, to go ahead without knowing.
On the day following, at the time named, Jack appeared at the old man's house, and found Mr. Douglas glad to welcome him. The ten dollars and a prospect of more money made the man with the diary quite solicitous to furnish all the information he could.
"Let me see," said Jack, "when did you start the diary?"
"The very day I was first employed on the road."
"And you have kept it faithfully?"
"Yes, I have recorded every incident of importance as it occurred, even to the names of every conductor and official of the road."
We will not relate in detail Jack's patient following up of all the incidents in the diary, but he spent three hours in studying every incident until he came to the record of an accident where a man had stepped out upon the platform, had lost his balance, and had been hurled to the ground and killed, and in this incident there appeared a note stating as follows:
"This was a very sad affair. The man lived fifteen minutes after having fallen from the train. He made an effort to say something, but could only speak the word mon, and he was probably a Frenchman, as he evidently desired to say in French my wife or daughter or something."
When Jack read the account of this accident there came a strange glitter in his eyes, and also a look of gratification to his face. It was but a trifling incident, and there were hundreds of accidents on record, but here was a milepost for our hero – yes, a clue, as he really believed.
"That was a strange accident," he said.
"Yes, a very sad accident. Nothing strange about it, but very sad. The old man's body was never claimed; I remember the incident well."
"But tell me, when did it happen?"
"October 19, 18 – ; yes, I remember well, it was early in the afternoon. The man fell from my car; I was first at his side. I heard him utter the word mon, and that is all he did say. He attempted to speak, and there was a wild, eager look upon his face, but he soon became unconscious and died without uttering another word except the French word mon."
"Possibly he meant to exclaim 'Mon Dieu'," suggested Jack.
"Yes, I guess that was it. Let me see, that means 'My God.' I did not think of that – yes, 'My God' is what he attempted to say in French."
"And you remember all about the incident clearly?"
"Yes, I do."
"The man probably came from New York," suggested Jack.
"Why do you ask that?"
"Because he had black mud on his boots."
"Well, he didn't; the man was a Jersey man."
"How do you know?"
"He had Jersey red mud on his shoes."
"Oh, he wore shoes?"
"No, he did not, he wore boots. Let me see, yes, he wore boots. He was probably a farm hand, a friendless fellow. That is the reason his body was never claimed."
"He wore a high beaver hat. A farm hand would not be apt to wear a high beaver hat."
"What do you know about it?" demanded Mr. Douglas.
"Nothing; I am only guessing."
"Well, you are guessing wrong. He wore a wide-brimmed slouch hat."
"He did?"
"Yes."
"You are sure?"
"I can see him as plainly as though my eyes were fixed on his dying face at this moment."
"And he had clear black eyes – regular French eyes."
"Well, it's strange how you talk, Mr. Newspaper Man; you're not good at guessing. His eyes were not black; I will never forget the color of his eyes; they were fixed on me with a look of agony while he tried to speak. They were a clear blue – yes, sir, as blue as the midday sky."
Our readers can imagine the exultation of the detective as he elicited the description we have recorded, and indeed he had reason to exult, for he had secured a clue in the most remarkable manner. His keenness had been marvelous; his success was equally wonderful; but he had after all only secured a starter. But there was a revelation to come that caused him to stop and consider whether or not any credit really was due him, and whether it was not a strange Providence which had after forty years guided him to the startling starting point for the following up of a great clue.
The old man's suspicions had at last been aroused. He glanced at the detective in a suspicious manner, and said:
"See here, young man, I am not a fool; no, sir, neither am I blind – I mean intellectually blind."
"You are a very bright and remarkable old gentleman."
"I am?"
"Yes."
"You mean it?"
"I do."
"Then please tell me what you are driving at. You appear particularly interested in the death of this old Frenchman, that occurred over forty years ago."
"What makes you think I am interested?"
"Oh, I can see; you have asked me very strange questions. You have done more; you have questioned me in such a manner as to quicken my memory – yes, you have brought vividly before my mind all that occurred on that day when that Frenchman was killed."
"Mr. Douglas, you are easily misled."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"No, I am not."
"Oh, yes."
"You are seeking to mislead me now, but you can't. You are not a newspaper man, no, sir."
"I am not?"
"No."
"What am I?"
"Shall I tell you?"
There came an amused smile to our hero's face, and he appreciated more keenly what a bright old gentleman he was dealing with, and this fact made the man's testimony the more valuable. Our hero said in answer to Mr. Douglas' question:
"Yes."
"You are a detective; you are not interested in my diary beyond the facts connected with that poor old Frenchman, I can see."
"Possibly you only imagine it."
"No, sir; and let me tell you, if you are a detective, and if you are interested in the identity of that old Frenchman, tell me the truth, and I may give you a great surprise."
Jack meditated a moment and concluded that there really was no good reason against his letting the old man know that he was a detective, as at the same time he could ward off all inquiries as to his purpose.
"You think I am a detective?"
"Yes, I do."
Jack laughed; he did not intend to surrender his secret too fast.
"Maybe you are mistaken."
"It may be I am, but mark my words: I will withhold my surprise unless I learn the actual truth."
"Suppose I were to confess that I am a detective."
"So much the better for you."
"But you might give me away."
"Never; I am not a woman."
"You are a very shrewd old gentleman."
"I am no fool."
"I am a detective."
"So I thought, and now one word more: why are you seeking facts about a man who died forty years ago?"
"I desire to establish the fact of his death."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, at present."
"I see, it is a will case?"
"No, on my honor, no."
"There is money in it somehow."
"What makes you think so?"
"The fact that a detective is taking the matter up after the lapse of forty years."
"Suppose there is money in it?"
"That's all right; I am not seeking a money reward, but I want to know what I am about. I am a pretty old man, and sometimes there is great devilment going on in will cases. I do not want to aid the wrong side; I'll do all I can to aid the right side."
"There is no will case."
"On your honor?"
"Yes."
"Then, why do you seek to establish the facts of the accident?"
"In order to confirm certain other facts, that's all."
"Have you made up your mind that the man who was killed is the individual you seek?"
"Not positively."
"I told you I had a great surprise for you."
"Yes."
"Well, I have."
"I like to be surprised."
"No doubt, but you can't guess what I've got for you."
"Oh, yes, I can."
"You can?"
"Yes."
There had come to our hero a most strange, weird and startling suggestion.
"You can guess?"
"Yes."
"Then you must be a Yankee."
"No, I am not."
"And you can guess?"
"Yes."
"Will you bet on it?"
"Yes, and give odds."
"You will?"
"I will."
"We won't bet, but you would lose; tell me the surprise."
As stated, there had come a very startling suggestion to the detective's mind. He looked very wise, and said:
"If I were to anticipate you, then I'd spoil the surprise."
"No, you would not; but it would be me who would receive the surprise."
"Very well, I'll tell you, Mr. Douglas, you have the clothes the old man wore on the day he was killed."
"I'll swear I have not told you so."
"No, you did not tell me so, but you admit it now."
"Yes, I admit that I have the clothes; that was the surprise I intended for you, and it is wonderful that you should suspect."
"I am pretty good at suspecting."
"I see you are. But hold on; it was forty years ago. I think I have the clothes; I cannot be positive, but since you have been talking to me I remember I received the clothes from the coroner a long time after the old Frenchman's death. I secured them to hold for identification."
"And it was a very wise precaution."
"It was beyond doubt, as matters have turned out; but remember, I am not positive that I have them. I believe I have, but sometimes my good old wife has a general cleaning out and may have disposed of them; but I will find out."
"When can you ascertain?"
"Oh, in a little while; come, we will go up in the attic. I remember putting them in an old trunk, and if I have them they are in that trunk still."
"Your wife may remember."
"No, her memory is failing; she would not remember anything about it, but we can very soon learn."
The detective had made the last suggestion in his eagerness to make sure that the clothes were not lost.
The old man led the way up to his attic, and our athletic hero lifted a number of old boxes, and finally came to a trunk, old and green with mold, and the old man said:
"That's it – yes, that is the box. Haul it down and we will soon learn, but I will swear that they are there, for that box has not been disturbed, as you can see, for many years."
