In Helena--A Fruitless Quest--Jerry Taylor's Bagnio--Reliable
Tidings--A Midnight Ride--Arrival at Butte City.
After obtaining much valuable information with reference to the various
localities of the city, from the landlord of the hotel, Manning sallied
forth upon his quest. With untiring energy he prosecuted his inquiries,
only to meet with repeated disappointments and rebuffs; all day long he
labored assiduously, visiting a hundred brothels, saloons and hotels,
and yet without discovering a trace of Duncan or his white-faced
quadruped. Could it be possible that the honest-faced miner had played
him false, and designedly thrown him off the scent? Might not the
saloon-keeper at Bozeman have given him the proper direction of
Duncan's flight toward the Yellowstone park? and was he not now miles
away from all pursuit, and perhaps by this time fully aware that he was
being followed? These thoughts flew through the brain of the detective
as after all his efforts he found himself baffled at all points. At
length, in despair, he sought the aid of the authorities, and was
received with a cordiality that was unmistakable, and with a proffer of
assistance that promised to be valuable in the extreme. An officer, well
tried and trusted, a man of considerable experience, and who was the
very ideal of a discreet and intelligent official, was delegated to
accompany him during the evening. For a long time these two men devoted
their combined energies to the task before them; but as had been the
case with Manning during the day, no success attended their efforts.
At length the officer turned to Manning and said:
"There is only one more place where we can possibly hope to hear from
your friend, and I have left that until the last, because I scarcely
hope to learn anything even there."
"Let us go at once," said the detective; "drowning men, they say, catch
at straws. I am determined that no possible point shall be lost and we
may only be disappointed again; but let us try."
"Come along, then," replied the officer; "but keep your revolver where
you can find it, for you may have occasion to use it."
"Where are we going?" asked Manning.
"To Jerry Taylor's ranche," answered the officer, "as hard a dive as you
ever saw."
"Very well," said Manning, "we will go. I have no fear for myself, and
perhaps this is the turning-point in our search."
So saying they started off, and after half an hour's walk found
themselves in the extreme northern part of the city, and in a locality
which presented anything but an inviting appearance.
Although but a short distance from one of the main thoroughfares, the
houses were of the most wretched character, and the people who were
congregated about the doorways were villainous looking men and
low-browed, brazen-faced women. Lights shone from many windows, and from
within came the sound of loud laughter and ribald song. They were
evidently in a quarter of the city where vice reigned supreme and where
poverty, crime and immorality held full sway.
Passing through this neighborhood without molestation, for Manning's
companion seemed to be well known and universally feared, they reached a
long, rambling frame building, which was gayly painted and brightly
illuminated. Men and women of all ages were entering and leaving the
place, and crowds of people were gathered about the entrance. Above the
noise of the clinking of glasses and the loud orders of the waiters,
could be heard the sounds of music, and a general confusion of voices
that bespoke a large assembly.
The detective had frequently heard of the character of a dance-house in
the far west, and here was an opportunity to view one in full blast.
Elbowing their way through the crowd, Manning and his companion soon
found themselves in a large, brilliantly lighted room, almost entirely
bereft of furniture. At one end was a raised platform, on which were
seated the orchestra, consisting of a piano, sadly out of tune, a
cracked violin, and a cornet which effectually drowned out the music of
the other two instruments. Around the sides of the room were ranged rows
of tables and wooden chairs, which were occupied by men and women, all
busily occupied in disposing of the villainous liquids which were
dispensed to them by so-called pretty waiter girls, who had evidently
long since become strangers to modesty and morality. The band was
playing a waltz, and the floor was filled with a motley gathering of
both sexes, who were whirling about the room, with the greatest
abandonment, dancing madly to the harsh and discordant music. The scene
was a perfect pandemonium, while boisterous laughter and loud curses
mingled with and intensified the general excitement and confusion. Both
the men and women were drinking freely, and some of them were in a wild
state of intoxication, while others had long since passed the stage of
excitement and were now dozing stupidly in the corners of the room.
Manning and his companion stood for some time gazing at the scenes
around them. The detective's mind was busy with somber meditations upon
the human degradation that was here presented. Here were women, many of
them still youthful and with marks of beauty still remaining, in spite
of their life of dissipation. Their eyes were flashing under the
influence of intoxication, and from their pretty lips were issuing
blasphemies which made him shudder. Old women, with a long record of
shame and immorality behind them, and with their bold faces covered with
cosmetics to hide the ravages of time. Rough men, with their flannel
shirts and their trousers tucked into their high, mud-covered boots.
Young men of the city, dressed well and apparently respectable, yet all
yielding to their passion for strong drink and the charms of lewdness
and indecency. A strange, wild gathering of all grades and conditions,
mingling in a disgraceful orgie which the pen refuses to depict. How
many stories of happy homes wrecked and broken could be related by these
painted lizards who now were swimming in this whirlpool of licentious
gratification! How many men, whose past careers of honor and reputation
had been thrown away, were here gathered in this brothel, participating
in so-called amusements, which a few years ago would have appalled them!
Ah, humanity is a strange study, and debased humanity the strangest and
saddest of them all.
[Illustration: Manning and his companion stood for some time gazing at
the scenes around them.]
The detective was aroused from his reflections by the voice of his
companion.
"What do you think of this?"
"I scarcely know," answered Manning, sadly. "I have seen much of the
under-current of social life, but this exceeds anything I have ever
before experienced."
"Oh, this is comparatively nothing," said the other. "Pleasure is the
ruling spirit now. You should be here some time when there is a fight,
and then you would think that hell was a reality, and these people
devils incarnate."
While they were thus conversing, the proprietor of the establishment,
Jerry Taylor, approached them, and respectfully saluting the officer,
whom he knew, said smilingly:
"Seein' the sights of the city, are you, lieutenant?"
"Well, yes, Jerry; that's part of our business. But we are looking for a
young man who was here a few days ago, and perhaps you can help us?"
"Well, if I can do anything for you I will," answered Jerry, who was a
tall, broad-shouldered, black-haired man, with flashing black eyes and a
somber mustache, which trailed below his chin. "Come over into the
wine-room, where we can talk. We can't do it here for the noise."
Accepting the suggestion, the three men walked across the room, and
entering a narrow doorway in one corner, were ushered into an apartment
which was designated as the "wine-room." This room was occupied by the
better dressed portion of the habitues of the place, and their
deportment was much more circumspect than those in the larger room
outside. Leading the way to a table in a retired corner of the room, the
proprietor requested them to be seated, while Manning called for the
services of one of the waiter girls in providing for their liquid
nourishment.
The officer, who had obtained possession of Duncan's photograph, now
produced it, and handing it over to Mr. Taylor, said:
"Jerry, that is the fellow we are looking for. Do you know anything
about him?"
Taylor looked at the picture a moment, and then answered:
"Certainly, I know something about him. He was here two or three days
ago, and was as flush with his money as a nobby aristocrat."
Manning's heart leaped with joy as he heard these words. He was no
longer doubtful of results, and was satisfied that he was upon the
right track.
"How long did he stay here?" asked the officer.
"Let me see," said Taylor, meditatingly. "He had a white-faced pony with
him, and I took care of the animal in my stable. He was here, I guess, a
day and two nights."
"Do you know which way he went?" now inquired Manning.
"Wait a moment, gentlemen," said Taylor, rising to his feet, "I think I
can find some one who can tell you all about it."
Walking to the door, he disappeared, and after an absence of a few
minutes he returned, accompanied by a rather handsome young woman of
about twenty years of age, and who appeared to be far superior to the
balance of the females whom Manning had noticed since his entrance into
the bagnio.
The young woman came smilingly forward, and seating herself at the
table, deliberately poured out a glass of wine, and tossed it off with
an air of good humor that proved her to be no novice in the art.
Jerry Taylor introduced the gay cyprian to the officers, and the nature
of their business was soon made known to her.
Without hesitation or the faintest evidence of a blush, she informed the
officers that Duncan had been her companion during his stay in Helena,
and that they had enjoyed each other's company immensely. He had lots of
money, the girl said, and she had assisted him in spending some of it.
In reply to their questions, the girl stated that Duncan had left Helena
two days ago, and that he intended going to Butte City, where he had
relatives in business. Further than this she could not say, and they
were compelled to be satisfied with what information she had been able
to give them.
This was reliable and satisfactory news to Manning, and after lingering
in the place a few minutes longer, and compensating the girl for her
revelations, the two men took their departure and returned to the
hotel, well pleased with the result of the evening's experience.
Upon making inquiries, Manning learned, to his intense disappointment,
that he would be obliged to wait until noon on the following day before
he could secure a passage in the stage for Butte City. As no time was to
be lost, now that he was approaching so near to what he hoped would be
the termination of his journey, Manning determined not to delay his
departure until the starting of the coach. The nights were moonlight
now, and requesting the further services of the officer in assisting him
to procure a good saddle horse and a guide, Manning resolved to start at
once for Butte City.
A horse was soon secured, and a trusty man was found who was well
acquainted with the road, and who was willing to accompany him. Bidding
farewell to the officer, whom he amply remunerated for his trouble,
Manning, at ten o'clock that night, leaped into his saddle and set out
on his journey. He rode hard all that night, and at sunrise reached
Boulder, having traveled considerably more than half the distance. Here
they stopped for breakfast, to feed their horses and take some rest. His
guide left him at Boulder City and returned to Helena, and about nine
o'clock, Manning set off alone for Butte. He pushed on without delay or
accident, and about four o'clock in the afternoon arrived at his
destination.
His first care was to provide quarters for his horse, and to make
arrangements for his return to Helena by the stage next day, after which
he sought the hotel for rest, and refreshment for himself.
How near he was to the object of his long search he did not know, but
tired and hungry from his long ride, he mentally breathed a prayer that
success would speedily crown his efforts, and that the weary chase would
soon be ended.