consultation with the Vice-President, Seward, and Bangs, and suggested
the propriety of placing one of my detectives, named White, in jail with
him. White was in Chicago, but I could send for him and have him in
readiness for the work in a few days. White was a shrewd, smart man to
act under orders, and nothing more was required. I proposed that he be
introduced to to the jail in the following way: He was to assume the
character of a St. Louis pork-packer. It was to be charged against him
that he had been dealing largely in hogs in the West, had come to New
York with a quantity of packed pork of his own to sell; and also had had
a lot consigned to him to sell on commission; he had disposed of all the
pork, pocketed all the proceeds, and then disappeared, intending to
leave for Europe, but had been discovered and arrested. The amount
involved in the case should be about thirty-seven thousand dollars. It
was part of my plan to introduce a young man, who should pretend to be a
nephew of White's, and who should call on him and do his outside
business. I had a good man for this work, in the person of Mr. Shanks.
His duties would be to call at the jail daily, see his uncle White,
carry his letters, go to his lawyers, run all his errands, etc.
White was not to force his acquaintance on Maroney, or any of the
prisoners, but to hold himself aloof from them all. He was to pass a
good deal of time in writing letters, hold hurried consultations with
his nephew and send him off with them. Shanks was to be obliging, and if
any of the prisoners requested him to do them favors, he was to
willingly consent.
Very few people outside of a prison know how necessary it is to have a
friend who will call on prisoners and do little outside favors for them.
No matter how popular a man may be, or how many true friends he thinks
he has, he will find if he is thrust into prison, that all of them will
very likely desert him, and he will then keenly feel the necessity of
having some one even to run his errands. If he has no friend to act for
him, he will have to pay dearly for every move he makes. A man like
Shanks would soon be popular with the prisoners, and have his hands full
of commissions.
There were a good many objections made to my plan, but with Mr. Seward's
assistance, all its weak points were cleared away, and it was made
invulnerable.
I telegraphed, ordering White and Shanks to come on to New York, and,
leaving Bangs in charge there, I started in a few days for Philadelphia.
Green was still employed in "shadowing" Mrs. Maroney, and kept a close
watch on her movements. On the morning after Maroney's arrest she
visited him in the Eldridge street jail, leaving Flora in the Astor
House. They had a long, private interview, after which she enquired of
the Marshal the amount of bail necessary to effect her husband's
release. He informed her that the bail had been fixed at one hundred
thousand dollars. She seemed surprised at the large amount, returned and
conversed with Maroney, then left the jail, and getting into a carriage,
was driven to Thirty-first street. Green hailed a passing cab and
followed at his ease. When she stopped, he had his hackman drive on a
few blocks and turn down a cross street, where he stopped him. He told
the driver to await his return, and getting out of the hack, walked
slowly down the street, keeping a sharp lookout on the house she went
into. Mrs. Maroney remained in the house about half an hour, and then
came out and was driven to Pearl street. Here she went into a large
building occupied by an extensive wholesale clothing establishment,
remained some time, and then came out with a gentleman who accompanied
her to the Eldridge street jail. Green remained in his carriage. Mrs.
Maroney and the gentleman soon came out; he bade her good-bye, and she
drove to several business-houses in the city.
Maroney received several calls during the day; he was very irritable,
and seemed much depressed in spirits.
Mrs. Maroney returned to the Astor House at dark, weary, depressed, and
despondent.
Green reported to Bangs that it was easy to read what she had
accomplished. Maroney had a number of friends in New York, and she had
been to see if they would not go on his bail-bond. They had all refused,
some giving one excuse, some another, and the desired bail _could not
be procured_.
For the purpose of finding his prospects, I had some of his friends
interviewed, and managed to learn that the friend on whom Maroney
principally relied to furnish bail, was one whom he had met in the South
when he was a drummer, but who had now become a partner in the house.
Mrs. Maroney called on him; he expressed great sympathy for Maroney and
her, but could not go on his bond, as the articles of association of the
firm forbade any of the partners signing bonds, etc. In two days it was
discovered that Maroney had no prospects of getting the required bail.
Some of his friends, whom he importuned to assist him, called at the
express office to find the reasons for his incarceration. They were
generally met by the President or by the General Superintendent and
informed that Maroney had robbed the company of ten thousand dollars at
one time and forty thousand dollars at another, and it was for this that
he was now in prison. The gentlemen saw at once the risk they would run
in going his bail and concluded not to venture.
I was convinced that if the public knew he had stolen fifty thousand
dollars and that the company were bound to prosecute him, he could not
procure bail, and so it turned out.
Mrs. Maroney called at the jail several times and did everything in her
power to procure bail, but finally gave up in despair. She had a long
interview with Maroney, then drove to the Astor House, paid her bill,
and, getting into a carriage with Flora, went to Jersey City and took
the train for Philadelphia.
I had sent Roch to New York to "shadow" her and had brought Rivers to
Philadelphia with me, as no shadow was needed for Maroney. When Mrs.
Maroney left New York, Green turned her over to Roch and he accompanied
her to Philadelphia. I had been informed of her departure and had Rivers
ready to meet her in Camden on her arrival.
She arrived safely. Rivers relieved Roch and he reported to me. I
supposed she would remain for the night in Philadelphia, but was
disappointed, as she went directly to the North Pennsylvania station and
took the cars for Jenkintown.
I was not quite prepared for this move, but by four in the morning I was
in a buggy on my road to Jenkintown. When I arrived I put up at
Stemples's, had an early breakfast, and seized upon a favorable
opportunity to have a short conversation with Madam Imbert. I hurriedly
instructed her to try and meet Mrs. Maroney, and if possible draw from
her an account of what had happened and learn her plans for the future.
I then got into my buggy and drove back to the city. It was a beautiful,
bright morning, and the drive was very delightful.
Madam Imbert, accompanied by Miss Johnson, went for her accustomed
stroll in the garden. They walked around for some time and were about
returning when they met Mrs. Maroney and Flora. Miss Johnson took charge
of Flora, who was her special favorite, and drew her to one side to have
a romp while Mrs. Maroney and the Madam strolled along together.
Mrs. Maroney asked very anxiously about the Madam's health and seemed
to be much pained when she learned that she was very poorly.
"Mrs. Maroney," said Madam Imbert, "I fear you find me poor company,
indeed. Your life must be happy beyond expression. You have a kind
husband, a sweet child, everything that makes life enjoyable! while I am
separated from my dear husband, far away, with no one to love me! no one
to care for me! I have bitter trouble, rendered all the harder to bear
by the fact that I have to brood over it alone. I have not one friend in
this wide world to whom I can fly for consolation. No! not one! My life
is unspeakably lonely. You will forgive me for not being more gay; I
cannot help it! I strive to be, but it is impossible. I often fear that
my melancholy has a chilling effect on those around me, and that they
think me cold and heartless!"
"Madam Imbert, my dear Madam, don't say that you are thought to be cold
and heartless! Every one feels that you are suffering some great sorrow,
and all are drawn towards you. As for me I have always tried to secure
the sympathy of my lady friends, but I have only half succeeded. You are
the first one in whom I have ever felt that I could confide, the first
whom I wished to be my friend. If you are in trouble and feel the need
of a friend, why not rely on me? make me your confidante."
"Mrs. Maroney, you do not know what you ask! My story is a sad one,
indeed. I already value your friendship too highly to risk losing it. If
you were to know my history, I fear you would turn from me in disgust."
Madam Imbert's tears flowed freely; she leaned on Mrs. Maroney for
support. Mrs. Maroney turned into one of the side paths and they took a
seat on a bench. After much persuasion, Madam Imbert was prevailed on to
disclose her secret.
She described to Mrs. Maroney the many virtues of her husband; told how
wealthy he was, and then, with many sobs, and much apparent reluctance,
stated that he was enticed into committing forgeries; that he was
arrested, tried, convicted and sent to the State prison for ten years,
and that now she was debarred from seeing him.
She was greatly relieved when she found that Mrs. Maroney did not turn
from her in horror on discovering that she was the wife of a convict. On
the contrary, Mrs. Maroney said:
"It was _too_ bad, indeed!"
She had suffered also, worse even than Madam Imbert, as her husband was
innocent. Things looked bad for him at present, but all would be bright
by-and-by. They had plenty of friends, but when they wanted them, they
were not to be found.
She said that she was going South soon, but did not intend to stay long.
She did not say that her husband was in jail, but merely that he was in
some trouble.
Madam Imbert replied that it was very hard; that there seemed nothing
but trouble in this world, and they were both shedding tears copiously,
when who should come in sight but De Forest?
De Forest was truly in love with Mrs. Maroney. He had heard that morning
that she had returned, and, finding that she was in the garden, had
started in pursuit of her, and arrived at a most inopportune moment. As
he came in view, Mrs. Maroney exclaimed: "Here comes that awkward fool!
He is such a hateful creature! I'd like to poison him!"
De Forest came gaily along, expecting to be received with open arms, but
instead found both the ladies in tears. "O ladies, what's the matter?
Crying!" The ladies said nothing, but Mrs. Maroney gave him a scornful
look which made him tremble. He had, however, broken up the interview,
and the party separated, Madam Imbert saying that she would call in the
afternoon.
De Forest walked off with Mrs. Maroney, but he found that she had
changed wonderfully, and he got nothing from her but cold looks and
sharp answers. He could not understand her conduct, and the next day
came into the Express Office, and mournfully reported that Mrs. Maroney
had acted in a manner he could not understand, and that he feared some
one had cut him out.
Rivers kept a close watch on Mrs. Maroney, and in the afternoon called
at the house to see Josh. He found the house in confusion, and an
improvised washing of Mrs. Maroney's and Flora's clothing going on.
Josh. was carrying water, and doing all he could to help the washing
along. "D----d busy to-day," said he; "the old woman got an idea into
her head to wash, and although I protested against it, I had to give in
and haul the water."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Cox to Josh., "you are always in my way."
Rivers took this as a rather broad hint to him that he was in the way,
and so asked Josh. to come up town with him. Josh. willingly acquiesced,
and they started out. On the way they met Barclay and Horton, and
adjourned to Stemples's. Rivers treated, and then endeavored to find
out from Cox the reasons of his wife's hurry and bustle. Cox told him
that his wife had taken a sudden notion to wash, and although he had
strongly objected, she had impressed him into the service, and set him
at work doing the chores and hauling the water.
Rivers tried to get more explicit information, but could not. Cox, with
all his shiftlessness, knew when to hold his tongue; and so, after
plying him with several drinks, Rivers was obliged to let him go,
without finding out what he wanted. Rivers felt that something important
was under way. He had followed Mrs. Maroney on her hurried journey to
Jenkintown; had seen her hold a long confidential interview with Madam
Imbert, which was broken up by the unwelcome appearance of De Forest,
and knew of the preparations going on at Cox's. So he was on the alert.
_CHAPTER XVII._
In the afternoon Madam Imbert called on Mrs. Maroney, leaving Miss
Johnson at home. Mrs. Maroney met her kindly, and poured into her ear a
tale of sorrow. She told Madam Imbert that she was going South for a
short visit, but that she would soon return, and then they could comfort
each other. She did not mention where she was going, or allude in any
way to Montgomery.
Madam Imbert did not deem it good policy to ask questions too closely,
and, although she very much wished to get information, she remembered my
strict orders against running any risk, and did not ask.
In the evening Rivers went up to Stemples's and took a seat in the
bar-room, as it was the best place to gain information of what was going
on. He had not been long there before Josh. Cox came in and asked for
Stemples. "He is in the stable," said Rivers; "I will go and get him for
you."
"No," said Cox, "don't disturb yourself," and started for the stable
himself.
Rivers very politely accompanied him, but was unable to overhear what
was said, as Cox drew Stemples to one side and spoke to him in a low
tone. Stemples said, "All right!" and Cox started off. Rivers stopped
him, and asked him to take a drink.
"I don't mind if I do," answered Josh.; and after drinking he said: "I
am in a d----d hurry," and was gone. "There is one drink gone to no
purpose," muttered Rivers, as he made his way to the barn. He found
Stemples hurriedly harnessing up his team, and turned in to help him.
"Strange fellow, that Cox!" remarked Stemples. "He wanted to get my team
and not let me know where he was going. I told him he could not have it
if he did not say where he was going, and he then said he was going to
Chestnut Hill, a few miles this side of Philadelphia, but I'll bet he is
going into the city. He said he would have the team back before morning,
so I finally consented to let him have it."
This was startling news to Rivers. There were no horses in the town that
he could hire, and he had no time to harness them if there had been. He
managed to see Madam Imbert, and reported to her his predicament.
"They are going into the city," said she, "and you must follow them at
all hazards, even if you have to run every step of the way."
Rivers had no time to lose. Stemples's team was at the door, and in a
few minutes Josh. came for it and drove down to his house. Mrs. Maroney
and Flora were waiting for him, and, as he drove up, got into the wagon,
while Josh. hoisted up their trunks.
Rivers had no conveyance, but he was determined not to be outdone; he
was young and athletic, and as they drove off he started after them on a
keen run. He knew he had a twelve-mile race before him, but felt equal
to the task. The night was very dark, and he had to follow by sound.
This was an advantage to him, as it compelled Cox to drive somewhat
slower than he otherwise would have done, and rendered it impossible for
them to see him from the wagon. On and on he plunged through the
darkness, following the sound of the hoofs and the wheels. The moments
seemed to have turned to hours; when would they ever reach the city? At
times he felt that he must give up and drop by the way; but he forced
the feeling back, and plunged on with the determination of winning. When
they reached the outskirts of the city Josh. reduced his speed, so that
Rivers easily followed without attracting attention. Josh. drove to the
corner of Prime and Broad streets, to the depot of the Philadelphia,
Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad, and assisted Mrs. Maroney and Flora
to alight. As usual, there was a great crowd at the depot, and Rivers,
mixing with it, followed Mrs. Maroney and Flora to the ticket-office
without being observed by them, and went close enough to them to hear
her ask for tickets to Montgomery. Rivers knew no time was to be lost;
it was a quarter past ten, and the train left at ten minutes past
eleven. He rushed out of the depot, where he saw Josh. getting the
baggage checked, and hailing a hack, said to the driver: "Here is a
five-dollar bill for you if you will drive me to the Merchants' Hotel
and back in time to catch the train."
[Illustration: "_On and on he plunged through the darkness, following
the sound of the hoofs and the wheels; at times he felt that he must
give up and drop by the way, but he forced the feeling back and plunged
on with the determination of winning._"--Page 145.]
"All right," said the driver, and springing to his seat he put his
horses to a full gallop, and whirled off toward the hotel.
Bangs had run down from New York the same evening to consult me on some
matters, and he and I were sitting in a room at the Merchants', smoking
our cigars, preparatory to retiring after a hard day's work, when
Rivers rushed in, and gasped out: "Get Roch up. Mrs. Maroney and
daughter are on the train bound for Montgomery."
We threw our cigars out of the window, and had Roch up, dressed as a
Dutchman, his trunk packed, and he into the carriage with us on the way
to the P., W. & B. R. R. before he was fully awake. I turned out all the
money I had with me--not a great deal, as it was so late--and rapidly
gave him his instructions as we drove along. We arrived at the station
just in time. Roch rushed to the ticket office, said "Second-class,
Montgomery," received and paid for his ticket, and sprang upon the last
car of the train as it slowly drew out of the station. There were no
sleeping-cars at the time, which was fortunate for him, as, if there had
been, he might not have been allowed to get on the train. In a moment
the train disappeared in the gloom, and Mrs. Maroney and Flora were
kindly provided with an escort, in the person of Roch. Leaving them to
pursue their journey, we will now return to Maroney, in the Eldridge
street jail.
White and Shanks soon came on from Chicago, and Bangs gave them full
instructions as to their duties. White was ordered to follow his
instructions implicitly, and not to attempt to move too fast. Bangs
arranged a cipher for him, to be used in his correspondence, and he
learned it thoroughly, so as not to need a key.
Having thoroughly posted them, Bangs turned his attention to procuring
the arrest of White. He secured the services of a common, one-horse
lawyer, and placed the case in his hands. The lawyer felt highly honored
at being employed in a case of such magnitude, involving thirty-seven
thousand dollars, and remarked that he would soon have Mr. John White
secure in prison. He procured the necessary papers and placed them in
the hands of the Marshal to execute.
Bangs knew just where White was to be found, but gave the Marshal a big
job before coming across him. He searched the hotels, saloons, lawyers'
offices, etc., going up to the different places, peeping in, and then
going off on not finding him. He was doing an immense business hunting
for White. Toward evening White was discovered talking to Shanks. The
Marshal took him into custody and conducted him to the Eldridge street
jail. Shanks, being a stranger in New York, accompanied him, so that he
might know the place afterwards. White was booked at once, and while
going along with the jailer was asked whether he wished to go to the
first or second-class, the jailer judging that he would not take the
third-class. The first-class was composed of those fortunate mortals who
had money enough to send out to the neighboring restaurants and order in
their meals. Of course Maroney was in the first-class, so White followed
suit. He gave the jailer the usual _douceur_ for introducing him to the
prison, and then had his cell pointed out. White sent Shanks, who had
accompanied him so far, to fetch his carpet-bag and some clothes. He
then retired to his cell to meditate over his painful situation.
He glanced around amongst the prisoners, and soon picked out his man.
Maroney did not seem to be doing any thing particular, but sat musing by
himself. In this manner, brooding over their misfortunes, White and
Maroney spent the evening until the hour of retirement. The next day
White kept by himself, pondering over what he should do. In the course
of the day his nephew, Shanks, who was a young man of about twenty, came
with the satchel, and made himself very useful to White by carrying
several messages for him. Some of the prisoners noticed this and asked
White if he would not let his nephew do little outside favors for them.
White said "Certainly, I shall be only too happy to assist you in any
way I can."
Shanks was soon such a favorite with the prisoners that he greatly
reduced the perquisites of the jailor. Maroney gradually became quite
familiar with White. He would bid him good morning when they were
released from their cells, and take an occasional turn in the hall with
him. They were shut in together, and it became necessary to get
acquainted. White wrote frequent letters to his lawyer, who was Bangs,
under another name, and received regular replies, Shanks being the
medium of communication. This was a great convenience, as lawyers are
not always able to visit their clients when they wish them to. Maroney
appeared to have few friends. Mrs. Maroney had gone, and he had no one
to pay him regular attention. A few friends would call occasionally, but
their visits seemed prompted rather by curiosity than by a desire to
assist him, they gradually grew fewer and farther between, and finally
ceased altogether. He received letters from the South, from Mrs.
Maroney, who was on her journey, and from Charlie May, Patterson, and
Porter, at Montgomery. These friends kept him well posted. The letters
sent by Porter were copies of those I sent him, and were on the general
topics of the day. Porter said he was sorry to have to address him in
Eldridge street jail, and wished he could be of some assistance to him.
He alluded with anger to the report which had been circulated of his,
(Maroney's) marriage. Of course all his friends at Patterson's knew he
had been married for years, and that the report was a dodge of the
Express Company to make him unpopular. Outside of his friends at
Patterson's, every one in Montgomery seemed to believe the slander, and
many said they always thought there was something wrong about Mrs.
Maroney, and they expected nothing better from her. Many, also, said
they had a poor opinion of him and believed he had committed the
robbery. Porter concluded by stating that McGibony, the detective,
seemed completely nonplussed, and had but little to say about the
matter. He, (Porter) had conversed with him, and McGibony seemed of the
opinion that it was a move of the Adams Express to place him in an
odious position with the inhabitants of Montgomery.
After the receipt of this letter, Maroney appeared to be exceedingly
down hearted. White noticed it, and so reported to Bangs. As Mrs.
Maroney had not yet arrived in Montgomery, she was of course entirely
unaware that the news of their marriage had been spread broadcast, and
her letters were quite cheerful.
White was occasionally drawn into a game of cards. Euchre was the game
generally played; he was well able to hold his hand, and seldom lost.
The stakes were generally for the cigars, or something in a liquid
shape, and the supplies were brought in by Shanks. Maroney would
sometimes take a hand, but it was a careless habit with him, and he did
not care how he played. As time passed away the prisoners became well
acquainted, and would talk over the various reasons for their
imprisonment. At certain times of the day they would be visited by their
lawyers. Maroney had no lawyer engaged, but keenly watched those that
came, in order to see which was the smartest, so that he might know whom
to employ should he require one's services. Maroney was a smart man, and
he gradually came to the conclusion that a lawyer named Joachimson would
be the right man for him. White observed that he began to nod to him,
and that they always exchanged the compliments of the day. This was as
far as he went at present, it being evidently his intention not to
employ counsel until Mrs. Maroney returned from the South. At least
these were his thoughts so far as White could fathom them.
Leaving Maroney for the present, we will glance at Jenkintown. Here
everything was quiet; in other words, quotations were low and no sales.
Madam Imbert had little to do. She walked in the pleasure grounds with
Miss Johnson, or called at Mrs. Cox's, with whom the Madam was now on
the best of terms. Mrs. Cox had a number of children and the Madam often
bought them little presents and exerted a kindly influence over them.
Whenever Miss Johnson and she met Josh. on the street they would notice
him, and the attention would make him feel quite proud. De Forest acted
the same as before, and was becoming rather sweet on Miss Johnson. Madam
Imbert was sad and melancholy, and repelled all his advances with quiet
dignity. We will leave them to enjoy their easy times, having to make
only two reports a week, while we follow Mrs. Maroney and Roch.
_CHAPTER XVIII._
Nothing worthy of record occurred on the journey and they arrived at
Montgomery in due time. Roch telegraphed to Porter from Augusta, Ga.,
that they were coming, and he, having been previously informed of the
fact, was, of course, at the station to meet them. He was now Maroney's
bosom friend, and as such paid much attention to Mrs. Maroney. He met
her at the depot with a carriage when she arrived, and conducted Flora
and her to the Exchange Hotel and gave them a room.
The difficulty with Mr. Floyd had been smoothed over and she soon felt
at home. But something strange seemed to have taken place in Montgomery.
Porter, of course, paid her great attention and gave her one of the best
rooms the house afforded; but all the ladies she met during the day
passed her very coolly. The gentlemen were all friendly, but not so
cordial as usual. She could not understand it.
She did not go out much the first day, but called up the porter, and,
going to the garret with him, pointed out the old trunk and had him take
it down to her room. The following day she called at Charlie May's.
Something unusual must have happened, as she left there in bitter
anguish. The house was near the hotel and Porter had seen her go in and
come out. She wore no veil and the traces of her grief were plainly
visible. She returned to the hotel and went to her room. Porter, in a
short time, stepped up, knocked at her door and enquired of Flora how
her ma was. Flora said her ma was not well, that she had a bad headache.
He was bound to get in, so he pushed past the child and saw Mrs. Maroney
lying on the bed crying. Being the clerk of the hotel, his coming in
would not be considered unusual.
He enquired if there was nothing he could do for her, and she said no.
He surmised what had happened and concluded he could find out all about
it at Patterson's. He went over to Patterson's and met Charlie May.
Charlie said that Mrs. Maroney had called on his wife, but had been
roughly handled--tongued would be the proper word. Mrs. May informed her
of what she had read and otherwise heard about her getting married at
this late date.
Mrs. Maroney denied the report and declared that they had been married
in Savannah long before; that they had afterwards lived in New Orleans,
Augusta, Ga., and finally had settled in Montgomery.
Mrs. May replied that it was useless for her to try and live the report
down; that the ladies of Montgomery had determined not to recognize her,
and that she had been tabooed from society. Mrs. May grew wrathful and
warned Mrs. Maroney to beware how she conducted herself toward Mr. May.
Mrs. Maroney rose proudly from her chair, and giving Mrs. May a look
that made her tremble, said:
"Mr. Maroney is as thoroughly a gentleman as Mr. May or any one in
Montgomery, and he is capable of protecting himself and me."
She then flounced out of the house and returned to the hotel.
She remained in her room all day, but on the following morning went to
the office of her husband's counsel, where she remained some time, and
then returned to the hotel.
Porter was summoned to her room, and on going up she asked him if
McGibony was around. Porter said he presumed he was at the Court House.
Mrs. Maroney then said:
"I would like to see him! My poor husband is in trouble and I need the
assistance of all his friends, not but that he will eventually prove
himself innocent and make the company pay him heavy damages for their
outrageous persecution! but he is, at present, in the hands of the
enemy. If he were only in the South, it would be very different. Here he
would have many kind friends to assist him; there he has not one who
will turn a finger to help him. Mr. Maroney and I are aware of the
scandal that has been spread about us, but we will soon put our timid
friends to the blush. They think it will be hard for Maroney to fight a
wealthy corporation like the Adams Express, and, instead of helping him,
seem inclined to join the stronger party. With them 'might makes right,'
and when Maroney gains the day, how they will come crawling back to
congratulate him and say, 'We always felt that you were innocent.' O Mr.
Porter, it is a shame. Why is Maroney held a prisoner in the North, when
he should be tried before a jury of his fellow Southerners? What will
not money do in this country? But I will show the Adams Express that
they are not dealing with a weak, timid woman. I have just been to see
my husband's counsel and have made arrangements to get a requisition
from the Governor of Alabama on the Governor of New York to have my
husband brought here. I want McGibony to go North and bring him down. Of
course he would not attempt to escape, but it will be necessary to keep
up the form of having him in the charge of an officer, and I think
McGibony the proper man to send. If McGibony will not go I shall have to
ask you, Mr. Porter, to execute the commission."
Porter, not having any orders how to act, said: "I will think the matter
over, and have no doubt but that McGibony will be well pleased to go.
There is only one difficulty, and that is, he may not have the necessary
cash."
"That need not deter him," she replied, eagerly. "I have plenty of
money, and will gladly pay him all he asks."
"I will find him and bring him to your room," said Porter, as he walked
away.
He went down stairs and immediately telegraphed to Bangs, in cipher,
informing him of all he had learned, and asking for instructions in
regard to acting as Mrs. Maroney's agent in bringing Maroney to
Montgomery.
Bangs held a consultation with the General Superintendent. The reasons
for Mrs. Maroney's trip South were now plain, and it was necessary for
the company's counsel at Montgomery to give the matter immediate
attention. The General Superintendent telegraphed to Watts, Judd &
Jackson of Mrs. Maroney's intended coup d'état, and ordered them to take
the necessary steps to checkmate her, while Bangs ordered Porter to
avoid acting as Mrs. Maroney's agent.
In the meantime Porter found McGibony, and conducted him to Mrs.
Maroney's room. He learned that Charlie May and Patterson had come up
during his absence. Mrs. Maroney made her desire known to McGibony, and
he at once accepted the commission. She thanked him, and remarked that
she hoped to have all in readiness in a few days.
Charlie May was very attentive to her, and she seemed to thoroughly
appreciate him, although his wife had treated her so _cavalierly_ the
day before.
After dismissing the rest of the party she had a long, private
conversation with Patterson. In an hour Patterson came down and went to
a livery stable where "Yankee Mary" was known to be kept, and soon after
Mrs. Maroney had an interview with the proprietor of the livery-stable.
Porter had become one of the clique, and found that Maroney had a large
interest in the stable. "Yankee Mary" was Maroney's own property, and
his business with the livery-stables in Chattanooga and Nashville was to
examine and buy horses for his stables in Montgomery. In a couple of
days Maroney's interest in the stable was disposed of to Patterson, and
the money paid over to Mrs. Maroney. "Yankee Mary" was not sold, and
still remained the property of Maroney.
All these transactions Porter duly reported to Bangs, and Bangs to the
Vice-President. They decided to secure "Yankee Mary" for the company,
and Watts, Judd & Jackson were instructed to attach her. This they did,
and she changed hands, being afterwards cared for in the stables of the
Express Company.
Flora was much neglected, as Mrs. Maroney devoted all her time to
business. She was continually out in the company of Charlie May,
Patterson, the livery-stable keeper, Porter, or McGibony.
At last it was announced by her counsel that the "die was cast," and the
requisition refused; so McGibony was spared the trouble of going North.
The Governor of Alabama came to the conclusion that he could not ask the
Governor of New York to deliver up a man who was a prisoner of the
United States government, charged with feloniously holding money, until
judgment was rendered against him. Mrs. Maroney found she could do
nothing in Montgomery, so she packed up and, with Flora, started for
Atlanta. Porter had Roch at the depot, and as soon as she started, she
was again under the care of the Dutchman. At Atlanta she put up at the
Atlanta House, while Roch took quarters in a low boarding-house. He
watched closely, but was careful not to be seen, or to excite suspicion.
Mrs. Maroney and Flora remained in the hotel, not coming down, for
twenty-four hours. She was, no doubt arranging something, but what, was
a mystery.
What she did will be eventually disclosed. The first notice Roch had of
her movements, was when she came out of the hotel with Flora, and was
driven to the depot. He had just time to get to his boarding-house, pay
his bill, seize his satchel, and get upon the train as it moved off.
Mrs. Maroney acted much as her husband did when he left Chattanooga so
suddenly. "They are as alike as two peas," thought Roch; "both are
secret in all their movements, and make no confidants."
But _the eye of the detective never sleeps_, and Maroney and his wife
were always outwitted. While they greatly exulted over their shrewdness,
the detective, whom they thought they had bewildered, was quietly gazing
at them from the rear window of the "nigger car."
Roch found that Mrs. Maroney had bought a ticket to Augusta, Ga.; but
before reaching that city, she suddenly left the train at Union Point.
There was a train in waiting, which she immediately took, and went to
Athens. Roch knew nothing about the country they were passing through,
and was following blindly wherever she led. They had not gone far on
their new route when Athens was announced. Roch saw Mrs. Maroney getting
Flora and herself in readiness to leave the train. When the cars stopped
at the station Flora and she got out, stepped into an omnibus, and were
taken to the Lanier House. Roch followed, and when they entered the
hotel, went to a restaurant and got some refreshments.
Athens was a thriving inland town. After Roch had finished his meal he
strolled around, and finally arrived in front of the Lanier House.
Puffing away at his pipe, he took a seat on the verandah. Here he mused
for some time, apparently half asleep, when he was aroused by the
clattering of hoofs and the rumbling of wheels, and looking up the
street he saw a stage approaching. It drew up in front of the hotel, and
a knot of people gathered around it. While the horses were being
changed, the driver rushed into the bar-room to take a drink. Roch
listlessly looked at the hurry and bustle, but suddenly sprang to his
feet, and almost dropped his inseparable companion--his pipe--from his
mouth, for whom should he see escorted from the hotel, and assisted into
the stage, by the landlord, with many a bow and flourish, but Mrs.
Maroney and Flora? Her baggage was not brought down, so that he was
certain she would return. He had no time to think over the best plan to
pursue, but determined to accompany her at all hazards.
The driver came out, mounted his seat and Roch got up beside him. It
must be admitted that he was badly off for an excuse to account for his
movements, as he knew nothing of the country, and did not know where the
stage was going. The driver was a long, lank Southerner, burned as brown
as a berry by the sun. He always had a huge "chaw" of tobacco stowed
away in the side of his left cheek, and, as he drove along, would
deposit its juice with unerring aim on any object that attracted his
attention. He was very talkative, and at once entered into conversation
with Roch. "Wal stranger, whar yar bound?" was his first salutation.
Roch looked at him in a bewildered way, and then said, "Nichts
verstehe!"
[Illustration: "_Wal stranger, whar yar bound," was his first
salutation. Roch looked at him in a bewildered way, and then said,
"Nichts verstehe!_"--Page 158.]
"Whar are yar gwine? Are yar a through passenger, or whar are yar
gwine?"
"Vel, I vish to see de country. I vil go mit you till I see von ceety
vot I likes, und den I vil get out mit it!"
"Oh!" said the driver, in a patronizing tone, "yar parspectin', are
yar?" And so they kept up a conversation, from which Roch gleaned that
the stage was bound for Anderson's Court House, S. C. Whenever the
driver would ask a question he did not like to answer, he would say,
"nichts verstehe," and so tided over all his difficulties. The
passengers, one lady and three gentlemen besides Mrs. Maroney and Flora,
amused themselves in various ways as they drove along. The gentlemen
smoked and conversed, and the other lady seemed very agreeable; but Mrs.
Maroney did not say a word to any one but Flora. Roch as he occasionally
glanced over his shoulder at her, observed that she seemed to be
suffering from much care and anxiety.
Eight miles out from Athens the driver stopped to change his horses, and
Roch took advantage of this circumstance to get a little familiar with
him. He found this an easy matter. A few drinks and some cigars to smoke
on the road--which he treated him to--put him in such a good humor that
he declared, as they drove off, that it was a pity his German friend was
not a white man. Roch wondered if all the negroes spoke German, but said
nothing.
They drove along through a rich agricultural country until they arrived
at Danielsville, about sixteen miles from Athens. Here Mrs. Maroney
touched the driver and asked him if he knew where Mrs. Maroney lived.
Oh! thought Roch, now I see her object in coming here. The driver knew
the place well, and drove up to a handsome mansion, evidently the
dwelling of a wealthy planter.
Mrs. Maroney and Flora left the coach and walked up through a
beautifully laid out garden to the house, a two story frame, with wide
verandahs all around it, and buried in a mass of foliage. She was met at
the door by a lady, who kissed both her and Flora, and, relieving her of
the satchel, conducted them into the house.
Roch in his broken way told the driver that he liked the appearance of
the town so much that he thought he would stop over. They drove up to
the tavern and Roch asked the driver in to have a drink with him. As
they went into the bar-room they met the clerk, and Roch politely asked
him to join them. He informed the driver that he might go back with him
in a day or two. The driver did not pay much attention to what he said,
as all he really cared for was the drink. After the stage left, Roch
entered into conversation with the clerk, and, under pretense of
settling in the town, made enquiries about the owners of several places
he passed on the road. Finally he asked who the handsome residence on
the hill belonged to. "That is Mr. Maroney's place. He is one of the
'solid' men of the town; worth a great deal of money; has some niggers,
and is held in high esteem by the community, as he is a perfect
gentleman."
In the evening he dropped into a saloon, where he formed the
acquaintance of several old saloon-loafers, who were perfectly familiar
with everybody's business but their own, and from them gathered much
useful information of the surrounding country, and had the clerk's
opinion of Mr. Maroney fully endorsed.
Roch was up early in the morning and strolling around. He met an old
negro who informed him that the stage for Athens would be along in three
hours. He sauntered carelessly to Mr. Maroney's, and watched the house
from a safe position, but, as the blinds were closed, could see no signs
of preparation within. He therefore returned to the tavern, with the
determination of keeping a watch on the stage. He had waited about an
hour, when a gentleman walked up the steps to the stage office, which
was in the tavern. He heard the clerk say, "Good morning, Mr. Maroney,"
which immediately put him on the alert.
"Good morning," responded Mr. Maroney. "I want to secure three seats in
the stage for Athens; want them this morning." Securing his tickets, he
went home, leaving Roch once more at his ease, as he now knew exactly
what move to make. When the stage drove up, he called in the driver,
stood treat, and again took a seat beside him. The clerk told the driver
to call at Mr. Maroney's for some passengers, and they started off. Mr.
Maroney, Mrs. Maroney and Flora were at the gate when they drove up, and
all three entered the stage and went to Athens. At Athens they stopped a
short time at the Lanier House; sent their baggage down to the depot,
and took the train on the Washington Branch Railroad, which connects
with the main line at Union Point. Mr. Maroney bid them good-bye, and
returned to the Lanier House. The train consisted of only one car, and
Roch had to take a seat in the same car with Mrs. Maroney, but he went
in behind her, and took a seat in the rear of the car, so that he
remained unnoticed.
Mrs. Maroney was very restless, and after they took the through train at
Union Point, would carefully scan the features of all the well-dressed
men who entered the car. She seemed to suspect every one around her, and
acted in a most peculiar manner. In a short time they reached Augusta,
Ga., where Mrs. Maroney and Flora left the train and put up at the
principal hotel. It was late when they arrived, so that they immediately
took supper and retired. Roch found a room in a restaurant, and after
his supper strolled through the hotel, but discovered nothing, as Mrs.
Maroney and Flora remained quiet in their room.
The following afternoon Mrs. Maroney and Flora left the hotel,
accompanied by a gentleman, and once more started for the North. The
gentleman accompanied them to Wilmington, N. C. During the whole of the
journey, Mrs. Maroney acted, metaphorically, as if sitting on thorns.
She did not seem at all pleased at the attention paid her by the
gentleman. When he would ask her a question she would glance at him with
a startled frightened look, and answer him very abruptly. She seemed
much relieved when he bade them good-bye. Roch was sitting in the rear
of the second-class car and could keep a strict watch on her movements.
Not a person got on or off the train whom she did not carefully observe.
Two or three times during the night she fell into a restless sleep, but
always started up with a wild look of agony in her face. Day or night
she seemed to have no peace, and by the time they reached Philadelphia
she had become so haggard and worn as to appear fully ten years older
than when she started.
Roch telegraphed to Bangs from Baltimore, informing him of the time he
would arrive in Philadelphia, and Green and Rivers were at the station
to relieve him--Green to "shadow" Mrs. Maroney and Rivers to see what
disposition would be made of her baggage, and if he found it transferred
to Jenkintown to follow it and be on hand there when Mrs. Maroney
arrived. Roch went to the office and reported to Bangs. He said that he
had never seen so strange a woman; she had acted on the whole journey
as if troubled with a guilty conscience. He felt confident she had
something concealed, but could take no steps in the matter until he was
absolutely certain, beyond a doubt, that his suspicions were correct. My
orders were clear on this point--never make a decisive move unless you
are positive you are right. If you are watching a person, and _know_ he
has something concealed, arrest him and search his person; otherwise, no
matter how strong your suspicions, do not act upon them, as a single
misstep of this sort may lose the case, and is certain to put the
parties on their guard, and in a few minutes to overthrow the labor of
months.
_CHAPTER XIX._
When Mrs. Maroney left the cars at the corner of Prime and Broad
streets, she accidentally ran across De Forest, who was in the city on
some business of his own.
"Oh! I am so glad to meet you," exclaimed Mrs. Maroney.
"And I am delighted to hear you say so," replied De Forest.
The poor fellow had missed her sadly. She had parted from him in anger,
and he felt cut to the quick by her cold treatment. He had at first
determined to blot her memory from his heart, and for this purpose
turned his attention to Miss Johnson, and tried to get up the same
tender feeling for her with which Mrs. Maroney had inspired him, but he
found it impossible. He missed Mrs. Maroney's black flashing eye, one
moment filled with tenderness, the next sparkling with laughter. Then
Mrs. Maroney had a freedom of manners that placed him at once at his
ease, while Miss Johnson was rather prudish, quite sarcastic, and
somehow he felt that he always made a fool of himself in her presence.
Besides, Miss Johnson was marriageable, and much as De Forest loved the
sex, he loved his freedom more. His morals were on a par with those of
Sheridan's son, who wittily asked his father, just after he had been
lecturing him, and advising him to take a wife, "But, father, whose
wife shall I take?" Day after day passed wearily to him; Jenkintown
without Mrs. Maroney was a dreary waste. He felt that "Absence makes the
heart grow fonder," so when Mrs. Maroney greeted him so heartily he was
overjoyed.
"Have you been far South?" he asked.
"Yes, indeed? Flora and I have not had our clothes off for five days,
and we are completely exhausted; what a fright I must look!"
"You look perfectly charming! at least to me you do," fervently answered
De Forest. "Let me have your baggage transferred to the North
Pennsylvania Railroad. In that way you can send it to Jenkintown without
any trouble. You and Flora honor me with your company to Mitchell's,
where we will have some refreshments, and then I will drive you home in
my buggy."
After a little persuasion Mrs. Maroney consented to the arrangement, and
De Forest, once more himself, got their baggage checked to Jenkintown,
and calling a hackman, as he had left his own team in the stable, they
were driven to Mitchell's. Green followed them up and watched them from
the steps of Independence Hall, while Rivers mounted the baggage-wagon
and was driven to the North Pennsylvania station, and in less than an
hour was in Jenkintown. De Forest ordered a substantial meal at
Mitchell's, and when they had finished it, ordered his team and drove
gaily out of the city, closely wedged in between Mrs. Maroney and Flora.
When he went to get his team he hurriedly reported to the Vice-President
that he had Mrs. Maroney at Mitchell's, and that her former coolness had
vanished. As they drove up to Cox's, Mrs. Maroney was much pleased to
meet Madam Imbert and Miss Johnson. The ladies bowed, and Mrs. Maroney
requested the Madam to stop a moment, as she had something to tell her.
Madam Imbert told Miss Johnson to walk on home, while she went to Cox's,
and was warmly embraced by Mrs. Maroney. How De Forest envied her! De
Forest drove up to the tavern with his team, and the rest of the party
went into the house, where they were cordially welcomed by Mrs. Cox.
Mrs. Maroney said she was tired almost to death, but wanted a few
moments' conversation with the Madam before she changed her clothing.
"Madam Imbert," she said, "you don't know how happy I am to meet you. I
have just come from the South, where all my husband's friends are. He is
now in deep trouble, and is held a prisoner in New York, at the
instigation of the Adams Express Company, who charge him with having
robbed them of some fifty thousand dollars. They charge him with
committing this robbery in Montgomery, but hold him in New York. I went
South for the purpose of getting a requisition for his immediate return
to Montgomery. When I got there I was much surprised to find that nearly
all his influential friends had taken the part of the company, and I now
return almost crazed, without being able to get the necessary papers,
and my poor husband must languish in jail, I don't know how long."
"Mrs. Maroney, I can sympathize with you thoroughly. When my husband was
prosperous we had hosts of friends--friends whom I thought would always
be true to us; but the moment he got into trouble they were gone, and
the only friend I now have is the abundance of money he left me."
"In this respect I cannot complain," replied Mrs. Maroney, "as my
husband gave me money enough to support me a lifetime; but it is so hard
to be separated from him! I am fortunate in having found a friend like
you, Madam Imbert, and I trust we may spend many hours together. I must
write a letter to my husband to let him know I am again in the North."
"I will take it down to the postoffice for you," said Madam Imbert.
"Oh, no, I thank you, I will not put you to the trouble; Josh. is going
down to Stemples's, and he will post it for me."
Madam Imbert could not well stay longer as Mrs. Maroney seemed very
tired. So she bade her good-bye, Mrs. Maroney promising to call on her
the next day.
She was not satisfied with what she had accomplished, and feared that
Mrs. Maroney had some secret arrangement under way. As she walked
musingly along, she met Rivers in a place where no one appeared in
sight.
"Rivers, I wish you would keep a sharp lookout on Cox's to-night. I
think they are up to something, but what, I can't find out. Will you?"
"Certainly," replied Rivers; "I am pretty well tired out, but I can
stand it for a week, if necessary."
"There is another thing which ought to be attended to," said Madam
Imbert. "Mrs. Maroney is writing a letter to her husband; I think it is
an important one. Don't you think you could manage to get possession of
it? She is going to send it to Stemples's by Josh., so you might get him
drunk and then gain possession of it."
"Leave that to me. I think I can work it all right," said Rivers, as
they separated, no one being aware of their interview.
Rivers went to Stemples's, and calling up every one in the bar-room,
asked them to have a drink. Barclay and Horton were there, and as they
swallowed their liquor, looked at each other and winked. Horton
whispered: "Rivers is a little 'sprung' to-day."
"D----d tight, in my opinion," replied Barclay.
In a few moments Josh. came in, and in a very important tone asked for
Stemples.
"Stemple sout! Hellow, Josh., that you?" said Rivers, slapping him on
the shoulder. "I've taken a leetle too much bitters to-day, but I'm
bound to have another horn before I go home. Come and have something?"
"Where is Stemples?" reiterated Cox.
"Oh, he's up stairs. Come and have a drink?"
Josh. willingly assented, and with Barclay and Horton they went up to
the bar. Rivers seized the whisky-bottle as the barkeeper handed it
down, and filled his glass to the brim. Josh., Horton, and Barclay took
moderate quantities of the liquor. "Drink hearty, boys," said Rivers, "I
am going to have a good horn to go to bed on."
Josh. looked closely at him, and then turned and winked knowingly to
Barclay and Horton. The moment he turned, Rivers changed glasses with
him, emptied out nearly all the liquor that Cox had put into his glass,
and filled it with water.
"Here, boys, drink hearty! Ain't you going to drink up?"
Thus admonished, all four raised their glasses and drained them at a
draft. Josh. swallowed down the brimming glass of pure whisky without a
wink, and it must be admitted that, to his credit as a toper, he never
noticed the difference. They had two or three drinks on about the same
basis before Stemples came down.
Josh. was standing with the letter in his hand ready to give it to him
when he came in. When Stemples came in Rivers snatched the letter from
Josh.'s hand and said:
"Here, Stemples, is a letter for you!" and handed it to him.
Cox was in a condition not to mind trifles, and scarcely knew whether he
did or did not give the letter to Stemples. So long as he had it, that
was all he wanted.
Rivers, quick as a flash, had read the direction on the letter: "Nathan
Maroney, Eldridge Street Jail, New York."
Stemples took the letter and placed it carelessly in a pigeon-hole,
behind a small, railed-off place just at the end of the bar. Josh.
started home with Barclay and Horton. Rivers accompanied them a short
distance and then returned to Stemples's. He looked through the windows
and saw that the bar-room was completely deserted. He peered around and
found that both Stemples and the barkeeper were in the stable harnessing
up the horses, bent on going to a ball at a neighboring town. He glanced
around in all directions until he was sure there was no fear of
detection, and then stealthily entered the bar-room. He noiselessly
crossed the floor, went behind the railing, pulled the much desired
letter from the pigeon-hole and, with his treasure, returned safely to
the street without detection.
He returned to his boarding-house, procured a lamp and went directly to
his room. He then dexterously opened the letter in such a manner that no
trace was left to show that it had been tampered with, and tremblingly
proceeded to read it, filled with the hope that the mystery would be
solved by its contents. He read as follows:
"MY DEAR HUSBAND:--I know it will pain you to learn that a notice
of our marriage has been published in Montgomery. It has caused a
great many of our old friends to turn away from us, among others
Mrs. May, who was the first one to inform me, and who grossly
insulted me and fairly ordered me out of her house. Who could have
spread the news? I think the only true friend you now have in
Montgomery is Mr. Porter. Patterson swindled me in the bargain for
the livery stable, and Charlie May is, you know, as variable as the
weather in the North; but Mr. Porter did me many kind turns without
seeking to make anything out of me. Flora and I arrived in
Jenkintown this afternoon thoroughly tired out. I could not get the
requisition. I will write fully to-morrow or the next day.
"I have all safe in the trunk. Left ------ at hotel in Athens. I
afterward found it convenient to alter my bustle and put paper into
it and strips of old rags. It set well, but I was tired when I got
home with it.
"Your loving wife."
Rivers scribbled off a copy of the letter and then sealed it up again.
He walked back to Stemples's and found a party in the wagon waiting for
the barkeeper to close up and go to the ball with them. Rivers, still
pretending to be drunk, staggered up to the door of the bar-room, which
was just about to be closed, and walked in. There was no one present but
the barkeeper; the people in the wagon were yelling to him to hurry up.
"Give me a drink," said Rivers.
"You have had enough for one night, it seems to me," remarked the
barkeeper.
"No," said Rivers, "just give me one drink and I'll go!"
As the barkeeper turned to take down the bottle, Rivers flipped the
letter, which he had in his hand, over towards the pigeon-hole; it just
missed its mark and fell on the floor.
"What's that?" exclaimed the barkeeper, turning hastily around, "a rat?"
"No, a mouse, I guess!" said Rivers.
"I declare, if that mouse didn't knock a letter out of the pigeon-hole!"
remarked the barkeeper as he picked it up and put it in its place.
"Hurry up, Rivers, I want to go!"
Rivers swallowed his drink and went off well pleased with his success.
His work was not done yet, as Madam Imbert had requested him to keep a
watch on Cox's house. He walked along in the direction of Cox's, and
felt almost oppressed by the perfect stillness of the night. It was not
broken even by the barking of watch-dogs. The whole place seemed
wrapped in slumber. When he reached the house, he walked carefully
around for about an hour, when a light in the second story--the only one
he had seen--was extinguished. He then crawled up close to the house,
where he could hear every movement within; but all he heard was the
shrill voice of Mrs. Cox, occasionally relieved by snorts from Cox, and
he concluded that all that was transpiring at Cox's was a severe curtain
lecture, brought about through his instrumentality. At two A. M. he
returned to his boarding-house, wrote out his report for Bangs,
enclosing the copy of Mrs. Maroney's letter, and retired after an
exciting day's work.
_CHAPTER XX._
On the following day Mrs. Maroney called on Madam Imbert, and together
they strolled through the pleasure grounds. Each narrated her sorrows,
and each wanted the support and friendship of the other.
Madam Imbert's story we will let pass. Mrs. Maroney dwelt on her
husband's hardships, and her conversation was largely a repetition of
what she had said the day before. She spoke of her husband as a
persecuted man, and said: "Wait till his trial is over and he is
vindicated! Then the Adams Express will pay for this. The Vice-President
has made the affair almost a personal one, but when Nat. is liberated
the Vice-President will get his deserts. When he falls, mortally wounded
with a ball from my husband's pistol, he will discover that Nathan
Maroney is not to be trifled with. In the South we have a few friends
left, and Mr. McGibony, a detective, is one of them. I think I can trust
him. He was to have come North to escort my husband to Montgomery, if
the Governor had granted the requisition; but he would not, and Maroney
will hear of my failure to-day, as I wrote to him last evening. De
Forest is a useful friend, and I think him also a very handsome man. I
left Montgomery, feeling very unhappy, and was obliged to go to Athens
and Danielsville. I was so exhausted that I had to stop a day at Augusta
to rest. I had some valuables concealed on my person, and they were so
heavy as to greatly tire me. At Augusta I was forced to alter my
arrangements for carrying them, and arrived in Philadelphia completely
worn out. I can assure you it was with feelings of the greatest pleasure
that I met De Forest. He very kindly took charge of my baggage, and
brought Flora and me out in his buggy. I am so glad to be here once
more."
As both ladies were tired, they walked over to some benches placed in a
summer house, and took seats. Miss Johnson and Flora had been with them,
but strolled off.
Mrs. Maroney kept up the conversation, on unimportant topics, for some
time, and then suddenly turned to Madam Imbert and said: "You must have
had to conceal property at times! Where did you hide it?"
Madam Imbert felt that now the trying moment for her had arrived. She
knew that Mrs. Maroney had the stolen money in her possession, and that
if she could only prevail on her to again conceal the money on her
person, she could seize and search her; but Mrs. Maroney had said she
could not carry it around, and so was obliged to change its hiding
place. If she endeavored to prevail on her to secrete it on her person,
she might suspect her motives, and hide it where it would be hard to
find, so she answered in an indifferent tone; "Oh, yes, I have often
hidden valuables! Sometimes I have placed them in the cellar, and at
other times, waiting until all was quiet, I have stolen out into the
garden, at a late hour of the night, and secreted them."
Mrs. Maroney looked her square in the eyes, but she did not alter a
muscle under the scrutiny. "Your advice is good," she said, in a musing
tone.
Madam Imbert would gladly have offered to assist her, but did not, at
the time, feel safe in offering her services. She determined to act as
quickly as possible, and to try and discover where she would secrete the
money, as, from her actions, it was evident it was not yet hidden.
As they sat talking Madam Imbert pretended to be taken with a sudden
pain in the neighborhood of her heart. She was so sick that Mrs. Maroney
had to assist her to Stemples's. She explained to Mrs. Maroney that she
was subject to heart disease, and was frequently taken in a like manner.
When they got to the tavern she requested Mrs. Maroney to send Miss
Johnson to her, which she did, and then walked slowly homeward.
In about three-quarters of an hour Miss Johnson called at Cox's, and
reported that the Madam was much better, and was sleeping soundly. She
had become lonely, and had started out to get Flora and take a walk. As
soon as she entered the sitting room at Cox's, on her return, she found
no one there but the children. In a moment Mrs. Cox came up stairs and
joined her. She looked quite flurried, and seemed not to be particularly
pleased at Miss Johnson's presence.
Miss Johnson had just made known her desire for Flora's company, when
Rivers (whom Madam Imbert had seen and instructed to find out what Josh.
was doing,) came in, in his usual rollicking way, and asked Mrs. Cox
where Josh. was.
"He is out in the garden at work," said Mrs. Cox.
At almost the same moment Josh. yelled up from the cellar: "That you,
Rivers? I'll join you at Stemples's, by-and-by."
It was immediately plain to Miss Johnson and Rivers that something was
going on in the cellar which they did not want outsiders to know about.
Miss Johnson remained with the children about half an hour, when Josh.
and Mrs. Maroney came up from the cellar, perspiring freely, and looking
as though they had been hard at work. Josh. started out to keep his
appointment, evidently longing for a drink, and Miss Johnson, after a
short conversation with Mrs. Maroney, went out with Flora. She did not
remain long away, soon bringing Flora home, and then proceeding to the
hotel to report to Madam Imbert. Rivers had already reported, and Madam
Imbert was confident they were secreting the money in the cellar, so she
determined to report to Bangs at once.
In the afternoon she had so far recovered as to be able to go to
Philadelphia to consult her physician. At least she so informed Mrs.
Maroney. Before going she walked over to see if Mrs. Maroney would not
accompany her, but found her tired and weary, and in no humor for a
ride. She therefore returned to Stemples's, hired his team and drove
into the city alone. She reported to Bangs, and got back in time for
supper. In the evening she called on Mrs. Maroney and had with her a
long conversation.
What, with Rivers and De Forest, and Madam Imbert and Miss Johnson, very
little happened at Cox's that was not seen and reported to Bangs.
Mrs. Maroney called the property she wished to conceal her own, but we
concluded that it was the stolen money. For four days all went quietly
in Jenkintown; Mrs. Maroney made no allusions to her property, and
passed the greater portion of the day either with Madam Imbert or with
De Forest.
On the fifth day she received a letter from her husband requesting her
to come to New York, and to bring a good Philadelphia lawyer with her.
She made known to Madam Imbert, and De Forest, the contents of the
letter. De Forest found that he wanted to go to the city in the morning,
and made arrangements to accompany her with his buggy. At her earnest
request Madam Imbert accompanied them. They drove to Mitchell's, had
some refreshments, and then separated.
Green, of course, was at Mitchell's when they arrived, prepared to
follow Mrs. Maroney. Madam Imbert went to the Merchants's Hotel and
reported to Bangs, while De Forest reported to the Vice-President. Here
were two persons acting in the same cause, and yet De Forest was
profoundly ignorant of Madam Imbert's true character.
Mrs. Maroney proceeded to a lawyer's office in Walnut street. Green saw
the name on the door, and knew that it was the office of a prominent
advocate. I will not mention his name, as it is immaterial. She remained
in the office for over an hour, and then returned to Mitchell's, where
the party had agreed to rendezvous. After dinner they drove back to
Jenkintown.
The following morning the rain poured in torrents, but Mrs. Maroney took
the early train and went to the city, "shadowed" by Rivers. At
Philadelphia he turned her over to the watchful care of Green. In Camden
she was joined by her lawyer, and on arriving in New York went directly
with him to the Eldridge street jail.
All had gone well with White and Maroney. They had grown a little more
friendly, though White was very unsocial, and seemed to prefer to keep
by himself. Maroney had got Shanks to do several favors for him, and was
very thankful for his kindness. Shanks was busily employed in carrying
letters to White's lawyers, and bringing answers. The reader has already
been informed with regard to the character of those communications.
White and Maroney were engaged in a social game of euchre when Mrs.
Maroney and her lawyer arrived. Maroney did not have a very great regard
for his wife, but any one, at such a time, would be welcome. He greeted
her warmly, shook hands with the lawyer, and requested him to be seated
while he held a private conversation with his wife. He drew her to one
side, and they had a long, quiet conversation. In about an hour he
called his lawyer over, and they consulted together for over two hours.
White was miserably situated. He could see all that went on, even to the
movement of their lips as they conversed, but could not hear a word.
As soon as the interview was over Mrs. Maroney left the jail--the lawyer
remaining behind--went to Jersey City, and took the train to
Philadelphia.
Green telegraphed Bangs that she was returning, and he had Rivers at
Camden to meet the train and relieve Green.
She arrived in Philadelphia too late for the Jenkintown train, but
hired a buggy at a livery stable, and had a boy drive her out and bring
the horse back.
Rivers was looking around for a conveyance, when a gardener whom he
knew, and who lived a few miles beyond Jenkintown, drove along. "Going
out to Jenkintown?" he asked.
"Yes," replied the gardener.
"Give me a ride?"
"Of course; jump in." And he was soon being rattled over the pavement in
the springless lumber-wagon. He tried to keep up a conversation, but the
words were all jostled out of his mouth.
The weather had cleared up, and he had a delightful drive out to
Jenkintown. He stopped the gardener twice on the road and treated him to
whisky and cigars, and they arrived shortly after Mrs. Maroney. "There
must be something up," thought he, "or she would not be in such a hurry
to get home; what can it be?"
In Eldridge street jail, one day was nearly a repetition of another.
White acted always the same, and said very little to any one except to
Shanks, whom he always drew to one side when he wished to converse with
him.
Maroney conversed with White a good deal, and was disappointed on
finding that he could not play chess. White would occasionally join in a
game of cards, but kept separate from the rest of the prisoners as much
as possible. He had paid his footing, five dollars, the fee required to
gain admission to "_the order_" as the prisoners call it. He found the
"order" to be narrowed down to drinkables and smokables for all the
prisoners initiated. Maroney had joined before, and said to White, "I
don't think much of it. These people care for nothing but drinking and
eating, while I have something else to think about."
By degrees Maroney conversed more and more with White; sometimes he
would forget and talk loudly. White would look up and say, "Hush! walls
have ears sometimes, don't talk so loud." At other times he would say,
"Maroney, I am not a talking man; I keep my own counsel, and have
discovered that the worst thing a man can do is to be noisy." Maroney
would try and mollify him by saying, "Oh, pshaw! I didn't say any thing
in particular."
"You can't tell who the spies are here," White would reply, "do you see
those prisoners? well, how do you know but that some of them are spies?
I would not trust one of them. I have a big fight under way myself; I
know the men who are opposing me will take every advantage, and I
propose to keep quiet and wait."