THE EXQUISITE'S GAME PROVES A WINNING HAND, BUT
NOT AT THE CARDS--HE PERFORMS ONE OF THE GREATEST
STREAKS OF DETECTIVE WORK TO DATE AND CAPTURES A
MAN WHOM FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD HAD FAILED
TO FETCH.
As intimated, the game had proceeded and our hero was winning and
losing, when suddenly the door of the room opened and a man of
remarkable appearance entered the room. His entrance was followed by an
exhibition as though a ghost had suddenly appeared at the conventional
midnight hour and demanded a hand, as he reached forth his rattling
joints of bone. The men stared, even our hero for just one instant lost
his equipoise, but he recovered when like a wink he asked, as though no
one had entered the room:
"What do you do?"
The men, however, just sat and stared while the intruder said, a pallor
on his emaciated face and a glitter in his eyes:
"I heard the game going on, boys, and I could not resist--oh, I love a
little game at times."
"You are not well enough to sit up yet, Mr. Alling."
"Oh, yes; I feel better to-day; but whom have we here?"
One of the men winked and said:
"A friend of ours--one of the four hundred--but he ain't proud. He is a
gentleman clean through."
The man who had asked the question fixed his glittering eyes on our
hero. The dude appeared unconscious of the fact that he was undergoing a
study beneath the gaze of a man who could read the human face like a
book.
As intimated, the man was a very remarkable-looking individual. He was
one who would attract attention anywhere, owing to the singular sharp
expression on his face.
The man appeared to be satisfied with his study, and said, as he sat
down to the table: "Give me some cards. Ah, this is just glorious after
having lain in a sick bed for a month."
The dude, who was studying his cards, did not appear to overhear the
newcomer's remark. He had been a loser and seemed absolutely absorbed.
The game proceeded and drinks were ordered. The dude got seemingly very
drunk. He lost his money--some hundreds of dollars, and his watch, and
produced a diamond pin which he lost, and then he appeared to drop off
in a maudlin slumber.
The man let him snore in his chair and deliberately divided his money
among them. Then they dealt for the watch and pin, and finally the
question was asked:
"What shall we do with him?"
"Throw him into the street."
"That won't do," said the man who had entered the room at the last
moment. "You fellows don't know how to manage these things."
"What shall we do?"
"Let him sleep. He will sleep until morning--sleep like a top--and then
the first thing he will call for will be a drink; give him one, then
take him to some other house, fill him up, and leave him one by one. He
will forget afterward where he lost his watch and money. At least you
fellows can all swear he had his watch and money when you left him.
Throw him into the street, and he will be found, dragged in, and in the
morning will give the whole business away. That is the way you lads
always make a mistake. You don't go slow enough."
The men agreed to Alling's plan, and then turning the dude over on the
floor, fixed his coat under his head for a pillow and left him, locking
him in the room, and there the poor dude lay. One of the men returned in
about half an hour, looked the sleeper over and left. Downstairs he told
his pals:
"He will never wake. I reckon the man is full to the ears. He will sleep
until eleven o'clock to-morrow."
After the man had glanced into the room the dude most strangely awoke.
He drew from his pocket a tiny mask lantern, and he pulled a tiny watch
from his pocket, glanced at the time and muttered:
"I've got a long wait, but it's all right. I'll have my man."
The hours passed. The dude lay upon the floor and actually slept a
natural sleep, but after some hours he awoke, glanced at his watch and
muttered:
"Now it is time to operate."
He rose from his coat pillow and put his coat on, fixed himself to go to
the street, then deftly opened the door of the room, peeped out and
listened. All was still. Indeed it was two o'clock in the morning. The
dude passed down the stairs, and through the hall to the street door. He
unlocked it as deftly as he had unlocked the room door. He put it just
in the swing, then he ascended the stairs and passed to the top floor of
the house. He knew just where to go for the purpose he had in hand, for
he had overheard a little while he was being robbed at the game of
cards. He stopped at the rear room door and listened, then he deftly
opened the door and drew from his pocket the tiny mask lantern. He
flashed the slenderest of lines of light toward the bed and thereon lay
a man. Could one have pierced the darkness at that moment and have seen
the face of the dude it would have been a most startling revelation,
especially to one who had seen him some hours previously.
The dude on tiptoe advanced toward the bed. Quickly he clapped a silken
handkerchief to the mouth and nostrils of the sleeping man, and then
from the big dude coat he drew a gag and some cords; quickly he
proceeded and soon had the man gagged and bound. A moment only he
rested, and then the dude, the delicate-looking dude, after having
slipped on a few outside garments, raised the bound and gagged man in
his arms, handled him as though he had been an unresisting lad of ten or
twelve years, and carried him down two pair of stairs to the street
door. He stepped forth and walked off with his burden. He met no one
until he had traversed several squares, when a policeman accosted him:
"Hold on! what have you there--a dead body?"
"No, a man pretty thoroughly alive, and I want your aid--he is getting
heavy."
The dude made an explanation and the policeman aided in carrying the
man. He was taken to the station house, where the gag was removed, also
the cords, and the man was free.
"Who is he, Dunne?" asked the sergeant in charge.
The dude whispered a name and the sergeant started back aghast.
"How did you pick him up?"
"Oh, it's a long tale, but I've got him."
Handcuffs were put on the prisoner and, accompanied by two detectives,
Detective Dunne started with his man for headquarters. The fellow Alling
meantime said, speaking to the supposed dude:
"You played it well, but your play will cost your life in the end."
"Hush, Jimmy, don't threaten while the darbies are on you; but it will
be a long time before you will again enjoy your favorite game."
"One word, Dunne."
"Go it."
"Was I betrayed?"
"No."
"Those fellows didn't give you the pointers to get a whack at the reward
offered on me?"
"No."
"That is square between a square man and a thief?"
"It is the truth."
"You swear it?"
"I do."
"All right, I am to hold you alone responsible for this?"
"Yes."
"You worked it out yourself?"
"I did. Your pals don't know yet you are gone."
"Oh, I wish I had suspected."
"Do you?"
"I do."
"Say, Tommy, you make a mistake."
"I do?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"You appear to think that all those whom you dislike have to do is to
stand up and be shot like deserters. Let me tell you something. Had you
recognized me you would have been a dead man, that's all, and it is
possible several of your pals might have gone the journey with you. It's
better for you and them that you did not recognize me."
"The walls won't hold me long."
The detective laughed.
"When I am out I'll make it my business to settle you before I go back."
"Tommy, you surprise me."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I thought you were a gamer man. Game men don't bark; you are barking."
"I'll bite; you did me up well; you've had your turn, I'll have mine."
"Yes, you'll get your turn. As far as I am concerned I don't care if you
get out the day after you are sent up. I may have a chance then to do
the state better service."
"You're barking now."
"No, I am only cautioning you, that's all. Tommy, I don't fear you."
A little later the party arrived at headquarters and the prisoner was
turned over--one of the most dangerous rogues New York had known for a
long time. The fellow had led a gang into a bank, had almost killed the
watchman, had stolen over a hundred thousand dollars in money, and at
least two hundred thousand more in negotiable securities, and he was a
dangerous chap, and one of the most successful eluders the police had
ever attempted to run down. Dudie Dunne had performed a great feat and
yet he was to secure no public credit for it, for he was a secret
special, and never in all his experience had he performed a deed that
better earned him his right to be on the secret special force.
"How about the 'swag,' Dunne?"
"I don't expect to get it; but I am going back to look around."
"Better take some one with you."
"Not to-night--no, no."
Dunne returned to the place from which he had yanked his man. He entered
by the door which he had left on the swing for the purpose of a second
visit. Dunne ascended to the room from which he had carried his prize,
and he commenced a search, and no burglar ever moved with greater
noiselessness or ease. He was busy fully half an hour, going around with
his tiny mask lantern, and finally there came a pleased look to his
face. He drew a few instruments from his pocket and set to work, and
soon he had removed several bricks from the chimney piece, and finding
an aperture thrust in his hand and drew forth some bonds. He recovered
all the securities, and about half the cash in bills of large
denomination, and having completed his work he stole down the stairs and
returned to headquarters, made his report and went off to his room for a
few hours of genuine restful sleep.
On the morning following the incidents we have described the gang who
had robbed him on the previous day assembled in the barroom. It was
about eight o'clock, and as the last two came in they asked the man who
was there ahead of them:
"Have you been up to take a peep?"
"No."
The men all laughed and one said:
"So you've heard nothing from our sweet little dude, eh?"
"No."
"Let's go up and take a peep at him and have a little fun; we will stand
a heap of 'guying' when he awakes with his roaring headache."
The men with cheerful faces ascended the stairs. They opened the door
and peeped in; the first man started back, his face pale, and he
exclaimed:
"Great Scott!"
"What's the matter?"
"He's gone."
"Gone!" ejaculated the other two.
"Gone, as sure as guns, and rain storms."
The men passed into the room, then they all laughed.
The fools had not noticed until they commenced to laugh that they had
found the door open. They really enjoyed the surprise for a moment until
one of them suddenly appeared to fall to a suspicion.
"Hold on, fellows," he cried, "maybe we are laughing too soon. I don't
understand this; come to think, if that chappie got out of here he
wasn't as big a fool as we thought him."
"Oh, come off."
"I think we'd better go up and see Tommy--hear what he has to say."
The three men ascended to the room where the dude had gone for his game.
They found that door open; they peeped in and Tommy was gone. He had
disappeared, and they saw the opening where the "swag" had been secured.
They looked into each other's faces and one of them said:
"This begins to look serious."
They descended to the barroom. The owner of the place had just appeared.
"Where is Tommy?" they demanded.
"Up in his room, of course."
"Is he?"
"Yes."
"Do you think he's there?"
"He is there."
"He is not."
"What?"
"He is not there."
"Where is he?"
"By all that's strange and miraculous, boys," cried the man who had
first shot forth a suspicion, "we have been played. The dude was a
'copper,' and poor Tommy is in harbor at last."
The men sent out and got a paper, and the first headline that met their
eyes was:
"A Great Capture--Tom ----, the Worst Thief and Most Dangerous Bank
Robber New York has Harbored for Many Years was Captured Last Night
by a very Clever Piece of Detective Strategy and is Now at Police
Headquarters."
The men trembled and one asked:
"What will we do?"
Another answered:
"I don't think the climate of New York agrees with me at this season of
the year."
The others came to the same conclusion, and one said:
"We're in luck if we get away, but there is no time to lose."
The three men quietly glided from the saloon with countenances on which
was written all evidences of terror.