SCALPED.
"The gentleman is a friend," said Mrs. Scarlet. "You need not fear to
speak before him."
"I hain't no wish to hear any private talk," said Nick Brower, and
with that he cast a keen, knowing look into the visitor's face, and
passed from the room.
"We're alone, Professor."
"So it seems."
"What news do you bring?"
"Have you heard of the midnight express robbery?"
"I have."
"And that Dyke Darrel is on the trail?"
"I have heard all that, and more," said the woman. "My nephew has been
arrested and taken to Missouri by this same infamous Dyke Darrel. It
was an awful blow to me; it leaves me entirely alone in the world. I
am ready to do anything to compass the ruin of the detective who
brought me to this."
"I am glad to hear you say it, madam. I came here for advice and help.
I assure you that it is highly necessary for all of us that Dyke
Darrel be removed."
"Well?"
"He might be enticed here, and quietly disposed of."
"Will you entice him?"
"I might; but---"
"Well?" as the man hesitated.
"You see, I've got a place to fill in the world, and don't want to mix
with anything that's unlawful," and the Professor stroked his red
beard in a solemn manner.
"Yet you would be glad to see Dyke Darrel dead?"
"Hush, woman! Walls have ears. You are imprudent. I have nothing
against Mr. Darrel in particular, only he has injured my friends, and
may be up to more of his tricks. Now, as regards Watson Wilks, you say
Dyke Darrel has gone to Missouri with the boy in charge?"
"Yes. The last friend I had in the world has been torn from me, to
languish in prison. I will have the detective's heart's blood for
this," cried the woman, with passionate vehemence.
"Of course," agreed the Professor. "But of what crime was the young
man accused? Not the one on the midnight express, I hope?" The tall
visitor bent eagerly forward then, and penetrated the woman with a
keen gaze.
"No, no," was the quick reply. "I know that Martin had no hand in
that."
"Martin?"
"Watson, I mean," corrected Mrs. Scarlet. "I sometimes call the boy
Martin, which is his middle name, so he has a right to it."
"Exactly. You KNOW that the boy had nothing to do with the robbery
last night. I don't wish to argue or dispute with a lady, but I shall
be compelled to question HOW you know so much. Will you answer?"
"Because--because Martin is incapable of such work. I have read all
about it in the papers, and am confident that it was the work of an
organized band." The Professor laughed until his white teeth gleamed
in the lamplight.
"So sure!" he said. "You consider that nephew of yours a pattern of
propriety. Is this the only reason you have for believing that Watson
Wilks had no hand in the murder of Arnold Nicholson, and the rifling
of the express company's safe?"
"I have another!"
"Well?"
"He was in Chicago at the time the deed was done."
"Can you prove this?"
Professor Ruggles seemed extremely eager, as he bent forward and
touched the arm of Madge Scarlet with a white forefinger.
"I can prove it."
"Very good. It may never be necessary, but if the worst comes, you may
be called on. I suppose you're not in the best of circumstances, Mrs.
Scarlet?"
The Professor drew forth his wallet. "I shall suffer, now that my boy
is gone."
"Don't fear that, madam," returned Darlington Ruggles, as he laid a
bank note for a large amount in her hand. "Providence and your friends
will take care of you. You have rendered me more than one good
service, and I may call on you for more, soon, much sooner than you
imagine."
"Anything I can do, Professor, will be gladly performed;" was the
woman's answer, as she clutched the bank note eagerly, and thrust it
from sight.
Then Professor Ruggles turned to the door. Here he paused and faced
the woman once more.
"Madge, what charge was your nephew arrested under?"
"An old one."
"That is not an answer," and the man frowned.
"The charge is for uttering counterfeit coin. I believe the boy was
innocent, but there was money on the other side, and Martin was sent
up for ten years; my husband for fifteen. My man died of a broken
heart, being innocent, and Martin served five years and then escaped."
"I understand. I don't think the boy will ever serve out his time."
"I hope he may not, but---"
"Keep a stout heart, Mrs. Scarlet. Influences are at work to free the
boy. It will not do to permit him to languish in prison. I tell you
Providence is on your side."
Then Mr. Darlington Ruggles passed from the room.
"Strange man," muttered the woman, after he had gone. "He is a
mystery. Sometimes I imagine he is not what he seems, but a detective.
I hope I have given nothing away, for I find it won't do to trust
anybody these days."
In the meantime Professor Darlington Ruggles made his way to another
part of the city, not far from the river, and met a man in a dingy
basement room at the rear of a low doggery.
Strange place for a learned professor, was it not?
"You've kept me waiting awhile, boss."
The speaker was the man we have seen at Madge Scarlet's--Nick Brower
by name.
"I couldn't get away sooner," returned the professor. "How does the
land lay, Nat?"
"In an ugly quarter."
"I feared so myself. The young chap that Dyke Darrel took to Missouri
knows enough to hang you---"
"And you, too, pard; don't forget that," retorted the grizzled villain
grimly.
"I forget nothing," said Mr. Ruggles, giving his plug hat a rub across
his left arm. "It isn't pleasant, to say the least, having matters
turn out in this way. I wish to see you in regard to this Dyke
Darrel." "I'm all ears, pard."
"He must never see Chicago again."
"Wal?" "I want you to see to it, Nick."
"I don't know about that," muttered the grosser villain. "I've shed
'bout enough blood, I reckin."
"It is for your own safety that I speak, Nick. No trace of that last
work can ever reach me."
"Don't be too sure, Darl Ruggles. With Dyke Darrel on the trail,
there's no knowing where it'll end. He's unearthed some o' the darkest
work ever did in Chicago an' St. Louis. I WOULD breathe a durn sight
more comfortable like if Dyke Darrel was under the sod."
"So would others."
"Yourself, fur instance."
"I won't deny it, Nick. I don't feel very comfortable with the young
detective free. Between you and me, Nick, I believe we can make this
the last trail Dyke Darrel ever follows. A thousand dollars to the man
who takes the detective's scalp. That is worth winning, Nick."
"Put 'er thar, pard."
Nick Brower held out his huge hand and clasped the small white one of
the Professor.
"I'll win that thousan' or go beggin' the rest o' my days, Darl
Ruggles."
"I hope you may. You'd best take the next train for the Southwest. I
won't be far behind."
And then the two separated.
A little later Professor Darlington Ruggles stood on the dock
overlooking the river and the shipping. Although yet early in the
season the big lake was open, and several vessels laden with lumber
had entered the river from various ports on the Eastern shore during
the day.
A tug lay on the further side, and a schooner with bare spars loomed
up in the moonlight.
"This open sewer has witnessed more thar one crime," mused the
Professor. "I would like it if that infernal Dyke Darrel was at the
bottom of the river. He has taken into his head to hunt down the men
who killed Arnold Nicholson, and if there's a man east of the
Mississippi who can ferret out this crime, Dyke Darrel is the one. But
I don't mean to permit him to do anything of the kind if I know
myself. It's a fight between the detective and as sharp a man as any
detective that ever lived. I imagine--hello! who is this?"
The last exclamation was caused by the sudden appearance of a dark
form coming up over the dock as if from the water. A moment later a
man paused within six feet of Professor Ruggles, and penetrated him
with a pair of glittering eyes.
"What do you want?"
It was the Professor who uttered the word, at the same time receding a
step or two, for the stranger's glance startled him considerably.
"Who are you?" demanded the stranger, shortly.
"It does not concern you."
"Don't it? We'll see about that."
An arm shot forward. The Professor's plug fell to the ground, and the
next instant a red wig was swung aloft in the moonlight.
"Ha! I thought so. You are the man I seek--"
The speaker's words were cut off suddenly.