On the Track of the Fleeing Burglar--Duncan's Home--Some Reflections.
Within a few hours after receiving his orders, John Manning, satchel in
hand, stepped from the train at Clinton, and proceeded to a hotel. It
was nearly nightfall when he arrived, and after hastily partaking of his
evening meal, he started out to make some inquiries about the man he was
in search of. Having by some means gained a knowledge of Thomas Duncan's
associates in Clinton, he had no difficulty in finding them, and
dropping into a saloon which they frequented, he quietly introduced his
name in a casual conversation with the proprietor.
"Do you know Tod?" asked that gentleman, with some surprise.
"Oh yes, very well," replied Manning. "I spent several days with him in
Chicago, about a month ago, and had quite a pleasant time."
"Oh, I remember; he stopped here after that, on his way to his home in
Des Moines. You must have had quite a time, for Tod looked very much
broken up."
"Well, he was on quite a spree, I believe--and so he went to Des Moines,
did he?"
"Yes, he started for that point; but I believe he intended stopping some
time in Ames, where he has a good many friends."
"Did he say what he intended doing there, or whether he was going on out
to Denver?" asked Manning.
"No, I think he said he was going with a fishing-party from there and
would be gone several weeks." After stating that he was about to travel
in that direction himself, and learning the names of several of Duncan's
friends in Ames, Manning left the saloon, and returned to his hotel.
Ascertaining that he could leave on a train that night, he hastened to
the depot and was soon speeding on his way.
He arrived at Ames in due season, and here he was fortunate enough to
find a friend of Duncan's, who informed him that instead of remaining in
that city he had only lingered there one day, when he left on a freight
train for Des Moines, stating that he was to meet a friend in the latter
city and could not wait for the regular passenger train.
Manning without delay then started for Des Moines, and upon arriving
there, telegraphed the result of his investigation thus far. In reply he
was informed that Duncan's baggage had been sent to Des Moines, and
directed to inquire at the office of the American express whether it had
been received or delivered.
Immediately on the receipt of these instructions Manning repaired to the
express office, and there to his intense delight, he discovered Duncan's
trunks among the unclaimed baggage. Making himself known to the express
superintendent, who was friendly to our interests, he remained around
the office until late in the evening, when as the office was about to be
closed, and feeling confident that the trunks would not be called for
that night, he repaired to his hotel and sought his much-needed repose.
The following morning he was up betimes, and deferring his visit to
Duncan's friends until he had seen the trunks removed, he made his way
again to the express office and took up his position as a watcher.
Shortly before noon, a wagon was driven up before the door, and a man
presented himself and demanded the trunks in which the detective was so
much interested. The wagon bore the name of a grocer, John Miller, and
was evidently used in delivering the wares dispensed by the merchant
whose name was painted upon its sides. After the trunks had been
transferred to the wagon, the driver mounted to the seat and slowly
drove away. Manning followed on behind them, and after a short journey,
the driver drew up before a handsome residence, surrounded by a
beautiful lawn, adorned with numerous beds of bright blooming flowers.
The building was a two-story one, with a wide porch extending around
three sides, and was evidently the abode of a gentleman in fortunate
circumstances. The trunks were removed from the wagon, and carried into
the hall, after which the driver returned and drove away. After waiting
for some time in view of the house, he saw the trunks taken in, and
placed in a front room in the second story.
Having now traced Thomas Duncan's trunks to their destination, and
feeling the need of additional assistance, Manning repaired to the
office of the chief of police and requested an interview with that
functionary. Upon being conducted into the private office of the chief,
Manning at once introduced himself, and stated the cause of his
appearance in the city. He met with a most cordial reception, and the
chief, without hesitation, promised him all the assistance in his power.
He had heard of the robbery at the time of its occurrence, and had also
read of the capture of the three men, who were suspected of being
implicated in that affair. Upon being informed that Thomas Duncan was
connected with the burglary, the chief evinced considerable surprise,
for he was well acquainted with the young man, and had been for several
years, in fact, almost since his boyhood. From the chief, Manning
learned that Duncan's parents had lived in the city for a long time, and
that "Tod" was rather a wild, careless fellow, who was frequently found
in bad company. For a long time the young man and his father had been
estranged, owing to the son's persistent course of folly and
dissipation. Long and patiently had the old gentleman borne with his
son, and had repeatedly opened his purse to liquidate debts which Tod
had contracted; but finally, finding it useless to attempt to induce him
to change his mode of life, he had forbidden him the house, and had not
received him since.
It was barely possible that Duncan might be found in the city, but the
chief was inclined to a different belief. In any event, however, it
would be useless to seek for him beneath his father's roof. Manning
described the house at which the trunks were left, and was informed that
it was occupied by a man named John Miller, a grocer, and an intimate
friend of Duncan's. Duncan always made Mr. Miller's house his home
during his visits to Des Moines, and if any one was acquainted with his
movements, this John Miller ought to be the man.
Instead, however, of calling upon Mr. Miller at once, Manning proposed
to shadow the house during the day, in order to see if any one answering
Duncan's description should enter or leave the place. This was deemed
particularly advisable, as if Mr. Miller was approached at once, his
suspicions might be excited, and if Duncan was in the city the alarm
could be given, and he could readily make his escape before we could
reach him.
No one at all resembling Thomas Duncan, however, made his appearance
during that day, and in the evening Manning repaired to the chief's
office, as that gentleman had promised to accompany him on his visit to
the friendly grocer.
John Miller and Mr. Wallace, the chief of police, were warm friends, and
he felt confident that Miller would not tell him an untruth; but it was
deemed best to introduce Manning as a friend of Duncan's, from Chicago,
who wanted to see him upon a matter of business. Of course, it had not
yet reached the public ear that Thomas Duncan was suspected of
complicity in the robbery, as we had kept that fact entirely secret,
fearing that a divulgence of Edwards' confession would seriously
interfere with our search for the missing burglar, and perhaps prevent
us from ever apprehending him.
The two men therefore repaired to the store of the grocer, and were
fortunate enough to find him at home. He greeted the chief warmly, and
acknowledged the introduction of Manning with good-natured heartiness
and sincerity. Inviting them into his private office, Mr. Miller
requested to know the nature of their call, and Mr. Wallace at once
explained to him what had already been agreed upon. Manning further
explained that when he left Duncan, that gentleman informed him that he
intended coming to Des Moines, and would probably stop with Mr. Miller.
"Has he been here recently?" asked Mr. Wallace.
"Well, I'll tell you," replied Mr. Miller. "More than three weeks ago he
was here. It was about midnight, and I had retired to bed. Suddenly I
was awakened by a loud ringing at my door-bell. Hastily dressing myself,
I went down, and there, to my surprise, stood Tod Duncan. He was so
disguised, however, that I did not recognize him until he addressed me
and told me who he was. He was attired in a suit of coarse brown
ducking, heavy boots, and a slouch hat; around his neck he wore a large
red handkerchief, and he looked more like a German tramp than like my
old friend. I felt at once that something was wrong, or that he was in
some trouble; so I asked him in, and we went to my room. My family were
away at the time, and there was no one in the house but myself, and as
he looked tired and hungry, I produced what eatables I had in the house,
and he made a hearty meal. After he had finished, he turned to me, and
laughingly said:
"'The devil himself wouldn't know me in this rig, would he?'
"I told him I thought not, and then asked him what was the cause of his
strange disguise and his unexpected appearance in Des Moines. He told me
that he had got into some trouble about a game of poker in Leadville,
and that he had shot and perhaps killed a notorious gambler in that
city. He wished me to help him, as he was hiding from the officers who
were after him, until the affair blew over. He seemed particularly
anxious that I should help him to get away. Upon asking him how the
affair happened he related the following incident to me. It happened
that he was playing a game of poker in Leadville, with a notorious and
unscrupulous gambler, and that at one time when there was a large amount
of money on the table, this gambler deliberately displayed four aces,
when Duncan held an ace which had been dealt to him in the first hand.
Upon accusing the gambler of attempting to cheat him, that worthy drew a
pistol and attempted to intimidate him. He was too quick for his
opponent, however, and quick as a flash, he had fired upon him, and the
man fell. Hastily gathering up the money that was upon the table, Duncan
succeeded in making good his escape from the house, amid a scene of
confusion and uproar impossible to describe. He showed me," continued
Mr. Miller, "a considerable sum of money, in proof of his assertion, and
of course I have no reason to doubt his word. He further informed me
that his trunks were in Chicago and that he was desirous of obtaining
them. I provided him with pen and paper, and he wrote a letter which
purported to be written in St. Louis and addressed to myself, stating
that he was in that city, without a dollar, and requesting me to send
for his trunks at Chicago, promising to repay me at an early day. I did
not understand this proceeding, particularly as after writing this
letter, he gave me twenty dollars, to pay for having his trunks sent to
Des Moines, and requested me to allow them to remain in my house until
he should send for them. That this letter was intended to mislead some
one, I have no doubt; but I was at a loss to understand how it could
succeed in its purpose if I retained possession of it. At his request
then I inclosed his letter to me to the landlady at Chicago, and I know
nothing further about it except that Duncan's trunks arrived to-day and
are now in my house, awaiting his disposition."
"How long did Duncan remain in town at that time?" asked Manning.
"I think he left the next day," replied Mr. Miller. "He left my house on
the following morning at any rate, and I learned afterward that he went
away with an old friend of his, who is a brakeman on one of the roads
here, on the same day that he left my house."
"Do you know who the man was that he went away with?" now asked Mr.
Wallace.
"Yes; his name is Bob King, and if I am not mistaken, King obtained a
leave of absence from the railroad company for a few days in order to go
with Duncan. They hired a horse and carriage and started off in the
direction of Grand Junction. King was absent several days, and then
returned with the team, stating that Duncan had gone west. I thought
this very strange, as, if he had ran away from Leadville, it would
certainly be very unwise for him to return. However, I heard no more
about him, but I have seen Bob King frequently. He comes in several
times a week, and you can most likely find him about some of the
boarding-houses around the Union Depot."
This was all that could be gained from Mr. Miller, and after receiving
that gentleman's promise to inform Mr. Wallace, in case he should hear
anything of Duncan, the two men took their leave of the accommodating
and loquacious grocer.
Leaving the chief at his office, Manning resolved to pay a visit to the
residence of Duncan's parents. Not, however, to make himself known or to
institute any inquiries; but to quietly watch from the outside whatever
was transpiring within. He found the house to be a large frame dwelling,
with extensive grounds surrounding it; everything evinced the utmost
refinement and good taste, and it was evidently the abode of
respectability and wealth. The lights were gleaming through the windows
of a room upon the lower floor, and Manning quietly opened the gate, and
screened himself behind some tall bushes that were growing upon the
lawn. Here he was effectually hidden, both from the inmates of the
house, and the passers-by upon the street. The scene that greeted his
vision was so peaceful and homelike, that Manning was convinced that
Duncan's family were entirely ignorant of his movements or his crime.
The father, a hale old gentleman with a smiling face, was reading aloud
to the assembled members of his family, his wife and two daughters, who
were busily engaged in some species of fancy work, so popular with
ladies at the present time, and their evident enjoyment of the narrative
was unmixed with any thought of wrong-doing or danger to one of their
family.
"How strange are the workings of circumstances," thought the detective.
"Here is a happy home, a family surrounded by wealth, refinement and
luxury, peaceful and contented, while a beloved member of it is now an
outcast from the world, a fugitive from justice, hiding from the
officers of the law, and vainly seeking to elude the grasp that sooner
or later will be laid upon his shoulder."
Silently maintaining his watch until the family retired, the detective
slowly made his way to his hotel, and as he tossed upon his pillow, his
dreams were peopled alternately with happy home-scenes of domestic
comfort and content, and a weary, travel-stained criminal, hungry and
foot-sore, who was lurking in the darkness, endeavoring to escape from
the consequences of his crime.