The Half-way House.-- A Jolly German Landlord.-- Detective
Fox runs down Le Compte.-- A "Positive, Prophetic, Healing
and Trance Medium."-- Harcout the Adviser reappears, and
is anxious lest Mr. Lyon be drawn into some terrible
Confession.-- Mr. Pinkerton decides to know more about Le
Compte.-- And with the harassed Mr. Lyon interviews him.--
Treachery and Blackmail.-- "A much untractable Man."--
Light shines upon Mrs. Winslow.-- Another Man.-- Mr.
Pinkerton mad.
Many other conveyances were passing to and fro, and Fox's first impulse
was to secure a seat in some one of them and follow the couple in the
direction they had taken. But he recollected that it might cause either
Mrs. Winslow, or the little fellow at her side to know him again, which
would prove disastrous, and he was consequently obliged to apply his
pump to the important little Dutchman who owned the half-way house, and
who was busying himself around the cool, pleasant bar-room, making the
place as attractive as possible, and singing lustily in his own
mother-tongue.
"Good morning to you!" said Fox cheerily, stepping to the bar in a way
that indicated his desire to imbibe.
"Good mornings mit yourself," answered the lively proprietor, getting
behind the bar nimbly; "Beer?"
"Yes, thank you," replied Fox, "a schnit, if you please. Won't you
drink with me?"
"Oh, ya, ya; I dank you; I dank you;" and there were as many smiles on
his honest face as bubbles upon his good beer.
The glasses touched, Fox said, "Here's luck!" and the landlord met it
with "Best resbects, mister!"
In good time two more schnits followed, and as the landlord was each
time requested to join with Fox, he was so pleased with his liberality
and apparent good feeling that he beamed all over like a sunny day in
June.
"You have a beautiful place here," said Fox.
"Oh, so, so!" answered the landlord with a quick, deprecatory shrug
which meant that he was very well satisfied with it.
"I was never here before."
"No?--So? I guess mebby I don't ever have seen you. Don't you leef py
Rochester?--no?"
"No, I live in Buffalo, and I just came over to Rochester on a little
business. Having plenty of time, I thought I would stroll out a bit this
morning."
"Ya, I get a good many strollers dot same way. Eferypody goes out by der
Bort."
"The Bort?"
"Ya, ya, der Bort--Bort Charlotte."
"Is this the way to Charlotte?"
"To be certainly. When you come five miles auf, den you stand by der
Bort, sure."
"And so that is where the big woman and the little man were going?"
asked Fox carelessly.
"Sure, sure," said the landlord with a knowing wink; and then taking a
very large pinch of snuff, and laying his forefinger the whole length of
his rosy nose, added with an air of great importance and mystery, "I
tell you, py Jupiter, I don't let somebody got rooms _here_!"
"That's right, old fellow!" said Fox, slapping the honest beer-vender on
the shoulder. "Be unhappy and you will be virtuous!"
"Vell," continued the Teuton, excitedly lapsing into his own vernacular,
"_es macht keinen unterschied_; I don't got mein leefing dot way. I--I
vould pe a bolitician first!"
Fox expressed his admiration for such heroism, and purchased a cigar to
assist the landlord in his efforts to avoid the necessity of either
renting rooms to ladies and gentlemen of Mrs. Winslow's and Le Compte's
standing, or of accepting the more unfortunate emergency of becoming a
"bolitician."
Then they both seated themselves outside the house, underneath the
shaded porch, and chatted away about current events, Fox all the time
directing the conversation in a manner so as to draw out the genial
Teuton on the subject which most interested him, and was successful to
the extent of learning that Le Compte was what the landlord termed a
"luffer," evidently meaning a loafer; that several months before, they
came there together desiring a room, which had been refused; but he had
directed them to the Port, where they had evidently been accommodated,
as they had after that, until this time, regularly went in that
direction, always stopping at his place for a glass of his best brandy;
and that they had also always came there together until within a few
weeks, since when, for some reason, this Le Compte had walked out to the
hotel, where she had overtaken him with her carriage and driver, when
the driver would be sent back to the city, and Le Compte taken in for
the drive to Charlotte, as Fox had seen. He also learned that on their
return, which was generally towards evening, the driver met them at the
same place, when the latter took the reins, and Le Compte, somewhat
soiled from his trip, walked into the city.
Fox concluded that there would be no better time than the present to
learn something further concerning Le Compte, and after enjoying himself
in the vicinity for a short time, came back to the hotel, took a hearty
German dinner, and after another stroll secured a room for a short nap,
as he told the landlord, but really for the purpose of observation.
About six o'clock he saw the driver coming to the hotel from towards
Rochester, and in about a half an hour afterwards noticed the carriage
containing Mrs. Winslow and Le Compte coming down the road from
Charlotte. The couple seemed very gay and lively, and drove up to the
hotel with considerable dash and spirit. They both drank, as in the
morning, while the driver resumed his old place by the side of Mrs.
Winslow; and as they were about to depart, Fox heard the woman say to
Le Compte: "No, not again until Saturday; I'll try to be a little
earlier." Then the carriage went away, Le Compte loitering about for a
few minutes, after which he started off on a brisk walk towards town.
As the evening was drawing on, Fox hurried down to the bar-room, paid
his bill, and bidding his host good-by, trudged on after the little
fellow, keeping him well in sight, though remaining some distance behind
to escape observation, but gradually closing in upon him, until, when
they had arrived within the thickly settled portion of the city, they
were trudging along quite convenient to each other.
The lamps now began to flare out upon the town, and the gay shops were
lighted as Fox followed his man in and out, up and down the streets. Le
Compte first went to a restaurant just beyond the Arcade in Mill street,
where he got his supper, and afterwards promenaded about the streets in
an aimless sort of a way for some little time, after which he returned
to the Arcade and seemingly anxiously inquired for letters at the
post-office. He got several, but was evidently either disappointed at
what he had received, or at not receiving what he had expected. In any
event he cautiously peered into Lyon's closed offices, as if hoping to
find some one there. Disappointed in this also, he went directly to
State Street, near Main, where, after looking about for a moment, he
suddenly disappeared up a stairway leading to the upper stories of a
large brick block. Fox quickly followed, and was able to catch sight of
the little fellow just as he was entering a room at the side of the
hall. He waited until everything was quiet, and then approached the
door. The light from the single jet in the hallway was not sufficient
for the purpose, but with the aid of a lighted match he was able to
trace upon a neat card tacked to the door the inscription:
B. JEROME LE COMPTE,
POSITIVE, PROPHETIC, HEALING AND TRANCE MEDIUM.
Psychrometrist, Clairvoyant, and Mineral Locater.
As Fox had succeeded in "locating" his man, he returned to his
boarding-house, wrote out his report and posted it, and after carelessly
dropping into the restaurant under Washington Hall, where he took a dish
of ice-cream and found means to inform Bristol of the latest
development, he returned and retired for the night well satisfied with
his day's work, and fully resolved to be on hand for Saturday's sport at
Charlotte.
I received Fox's report the next noon, and not a half-hour afterwards
the splendid Harcout came rushing in.
"Pinkerton, Pinkerton," he exclaimed excitedly, "here's something which
we must attend to at once--at once, mind you, or--bless my soul! I'm
afraid I left it at the St. Nicholas. How could I be so careless!"
Harcout grew red in the face and plunged into all his pockets wildly,
utterly regardless of his exquisite make-up, until quite exhausted.
"Why, Harcout, you're excited. Tell me what's the matter, my man," said
I, reassuringly.
"Matter? matter? everything's the matter. Here's something which should
be acted upon at once, and like an ass I've left it at the hotel. I'll
go back and get it immediately."
"Get what?" I asked him.
"Get a letter that I just received from Lyon. He's there all by himself,
and they will draw him into some terrible confession. But I--I must get
the letter," and Harcout grabbed his hat and gloves and started.
"Hold on, Harcout," I called to him, "what is that you have in your
hand?"
"In my hand? Oh, just a private note I got in the same mail."
"Just look at it before you go," I suggested.
Harcout stopped in the door, examined the letter, pulled another from
the inside of the envelope, and blurted out sheepishly: "Ah, bless my
soul!--Pinkerton, this is just what I wanted. Here, quick, read them
both."
I took the letters as Harcout sat down and fanned himself with his
glove, and saw that they were dated from Rochester on the previous day.
The first one was from Lyon, in which he stated that he had received the
enclosed letter in the morning, probably shortly after Fox had strolled
out Lake View Avenue, also expressing a desire that Harcout should
submit it to me for advice as to the best course to be pursued, and have
the reply telegraphed. The enclosed letter was from Le Compte to Lyon,
insisting that he should immediately come to his rooms to receive
information of the greatest importance. I did not let Harcout know that
I had any information concerning Le Compte, but I saw that that portion
of Fox's report which stated that he had followed Le Compte to the
Arcade the previous evening, where the latter had anxiously inquired for
mail, and after that had taken a peep into Lyon's offices, agreed with
Lyon's letter as to the time when Le Compte probably expected an answer
from him.
I was at loss to know what the dapper little fellow was driving
at--whether he and Mrs. Winslow were after further blackmail, or whether
he had secured some confession from her while she was lavishing her
favors and money upon him, which the treacherous little villain was
endeavoring to make bring a good price through Lyon's superstitious
faith in the power of those who claimed supernatural powers and a
profession of Spiritualism.
I at once decided to go to Rochester and interview this new apparition
in the field in company with Lyon, and accordingly told Harcout that I
would do so, and would immediately telegraph to Lyon to that effect;
upon which he trotted away, announcing his determination to also
telegraph, so that Lyon might see that he was "attending closely to our
case," as he termed it.
As soon as he had left, I indicted a dispatch to Lyon, asking him to
make an appointment with Le Compte for an interview on the next
afternoon, when I would be there to accompany him; and after getting my
supper, took the evening train and arrived at Rochester the next noon.
After taking dinner at the Waverley, I immediately proceeded to Lyon's
offices. He seemed worried and anxious to see me, and felt extremely
alarmed about the whole matter, having as yet kept it from his attorney.
I had him send a message for him at once, and in a few minutes we were
all three in consultation. His attorney, a Mr. Balingal, thought we were
doing just right, and, on leaving, privately informed me that in no
event should I allow any person that professed mediumistic powers to
remain with Lyon alone, as he would be certain to do something which
would in some way compromise the case.
A few minutes after Lyon's attorney had left, we took different routes,
arriving at the hallway leading to Le Compte's rooms on State street at
about the same time, ascending the staircase together. A negro, who had
borne a second and a more imperative message to Lyon, was in waiting at
the top, and smilingly showed us along the hall in the direction of
Number 28, which afterwards proved to be Le Compte's seance-room. The
little fellow himself here stepped out of an adjoining room with a very
insinuating smile upon his face, which suddenly changed to a look of
disappointment as he saw that Mr. Lyon had rather solidly-built company.
As Mr. Lyon entered the room, this Monsieur Le Compte undertook to close
the door in my face; but I shoved myself into the room, and told the
mineral locater, etc., that I was a friend of Mr. Lyon's, and insisted
on being one of the party.
Lyon began timidly looking around the gas lighted room--though it was
not after three o'clock--which was filled with the ordinary
paraphernalia for compelling awe and fear: "I understand you have some
business with me. My name is Lyon."
"Yes, yes," he replied, "I have great business with you. But I can only
make you my _one_ confidant, Mr. Lyon."
"Oh, well, well, now," I interrupted, with some assumed bravado, "this
sort of thing better play out before it begins. I am Mr. Lyon's friend,
and whatever you have to say to him will have to be said before me.
Isn't that so, Mr. Lyon?"
Lyon assented feebly, and Le Compte asked: "Will you make me the
pleasure of your friend's name?"
"No matter, no matter," said I quickly, for I knew how weak Lyon was. "I
am here as my friend's friend. He has nothing to say in this matter. You
will have to inform me of your business with Mr. Lyon."
Le Compte suddenly arose from his chair, locked the door and put the key
in his pocket. He then went to the windows, which were slightly raised
on account of the heat, closed them, and lowered the curtains so as to
shut out the light completely. Just as he had completed the work, which
took him but a moment, I said to him sharply: "See here, sir, you will
make this room uncomfortably warm for yourself as well as us, if you are
not careful. Don't send us to perdition before our time, Le Compte."
He made no answer, and looked exceedingly meek; but I saw that he was
determined to endeavor to play upon Lyon's feelings for future profit,
even if the present interview offered none. He immediately seated
himself at a table opposite us, and said to Lyon: "The clairvoyant state
I will go into before anything I can reveal."
"Mr. Le Compte," I interrupted, noticing that Lyon was already weakening
before the scoundrel's assumption, "if you have got anything to say to
Mr. Lyon, go on and say it with your eyes open, like a man. We won't be
humbugged by you or any one else!"
He did go on now, and with his eyes open, and said: "Well, gentlemen, I
know of this lady who troubles Mr. Lyon, and learn of much witnesses for
his help. But the clairvoyant state gave it to me."
"No, no, my young fellow," said I, "we don't pay for that kind of
evidence. If you have any evidence in your possession which will be of
benefit to Mr. Lyon, I am prepared to receive and pay for it; but
clairvoyant evidence isn't worth a cent!"
"Well," he replied, somewhat ruffled, "I can go on the jury and swear
clearly of this!"
I then told him I was satisfied that he did not know the first
principles of law and evidence, and that the probability was that he had
no evidence in his possession at all. I spoke in a very loud tone of
voice, and evidently frightened the little fellow considerably.
"You are much intractable--a much intractable man," he responded. "I
could tell about you greatly to convince you of my power; but it is
impossible in double presence."
"All right," said I. "Mr. Lyon, I don't see as you have anything to do
with this interview, and I want you to go right back to your office and
remain there until I come!"
Lyon got up in a scared kind of way, and started hesitatingly towards
the door, looking appealingly at me; but I paid no attention to it, and
the little Frenchman instantly arose and politely showed him out, saying
in a low voice: "My dear Mr. Lyon, it will be for your great interest to
make appointment without the boor."
"Lyon will do nothing of the kind, you little villain," I said, as I saw
he was shrewdly arranging for future business. "The 'boor,' as you are
pleased to term me, has the whole charge of this business, and you will
transact it with him or nobody."
Le Compte flushed, closed the door without another word, locked it, and
put the key in his pocket.
I turned on him savagely with: "My friend, what do you mean? If you make
a single treacherous motion, you'll never get out of this room alive!"
I was now thoroughly mad, and am sure that the little jackanapes saw it
and felt that I might possibly serve him as he deserved, for he quickly
and tremblingly said, "Oh, if that is the case, I have no objection if
you the key hold; but in clairvoyant state we shall be alone and
locked."
There was a bed in the room, and I suggested that he looked flurried
and had better take a rest upon it while going on with his story; but he
seated himself at the opposite side of the table, and began putting his
hands upon his eyes and drawing them away with an indescribably
graceful, though rapid gesture. This he continued for some little time,
when he brought his hands down upon the table with considerable force.
Then he began the old humbug about my having had trouble with some one,
somewhere in the United States, at some time or other about something;
that there was another man of uncertain size, peculiar complexion,
unusual hair, singular face, and a strange, general appearance; and that
this difficulty was about money, he thought it would amount to from five
hundred to one thousand dollars, and that I would receive this sum
within a few weeks. As I said that this was absolutely true, he was
greatly encouraged, and went on for some time in an equally silly and
foolish manner. I stood it as long as I could, and finally said:
"See here, my friend, you and I must talk business!" upon which he was
wide awake and quite ready to enter into earthly conversation.
"Well, sir, what _could_ you want?"
"I want this nonsense stopped," I replied rising, at which he also
jumped up nimbly.
"Well," he said, "this woman"--evidently referring to Mrs. Winslow,
though no name had been mentioned--"once lived in Iowa with wrong
names!"
"Oh, nonsense!" I replied, "I know that already."
"But," he continued quickly, "I can furnish you the name of another
man--very rich, very rich he is, too--who should be by law more her
husband."
"Well," said I angrily, though now fully believing the little fellow for
the first time, "write this out fully; give me the man's name, business
or occupation; his place of residence, his standing, etc.; how he became
acquainted with this woman and under what circumstances they lived
together, and when and where; and when you give me the information, if I
find it reliable, I will pay liberally for it. If not, I won't pay you a
cent. Now, do we understand each other?"
"I think we do," he answered timidly.
"Le Compte," said I sternly, "there's no use of your practising this
clairvoyant game any longer. You won't get a dollar out of it; not a
dollar. I understand all about it as well as you do. Now, have a care
about yourself, sir, or one of these bright days you'll be coming up
with a sudden turn."
I now started towards the door; but the persistent scamp seemed anxious
to still keep me, on some manner of pretext, and stood holding the key
in a confused, undecided way.
"Open that door, you villain!" I demanded; "open it at once, or you'll
get into trouble."
He started suddenly, put the key in the lock, and then turned to me and
asked: "Won't you give me opportunity to show you I do not swindle. Just
let me make some few little passes over your head. I will sure put you
to sleep quickly!"
"I am not sleepy, nor do I need sleep now, thank you. I had a good nap
about an hour since," I answered, laughing at the little fellow's
annoyance. "Now open that door!"
Le Compte shrugged his handsome shoulders despairingly, unlocked the
door, and as I passed out of the no less than robber's den--though under
the guise of a mediumistic and spiritualistic blackmailing
headquarters--he said: "Well, sir, I will think of this statement a
great deal; but you are a very untractable man; a very untractable
man--what might I call your name?"
"Oh, anything you like, my little man!" I replied pleasantly; "but mind,
we won't have any more of this silly business. It won't pay, and you
will certainly get into trouble from it. You may send the statement to
George H. Bangs, at the post-office, by Monday noon, and if it is what
you represent it to be, and reliable, you will be paid for it; but you
may be very, very certain, Le Compte, that it will prove extremely
unprofitable to you if you attempt any more of this humbuggery upon Mr.
Lyon!"
With this admonition I left Le Compte's, and soon found Lyon in his
office. We arranged that he should pay no further attention to either Le
Compte's or any other person's communications concerning this case, but
should at once turn them over to his attorneys, who should immediately
forward them to me after reading them, as I was satisfied that if Le
Compte had any evidence he would never swear to it when the case was
tried, and only desired to blackmail Lyon on his own account, while
playing the necessary male friend and confidant to Mrs. Winslow, who for
some reason seemed to have a strange and unexplainable liking for the
little Monsieur, although exercising great care that her passion for him
should not become a matter for public knowledge and comment.