IN CLOSE PURSUIT.
It was some time before Patsy’s patience in waiting in the saloon he
knew to be the hang-out of Spike Thomas was rewarded.
But at length Spike and Bally Morris made their appearance, and on
seeing Patsy went over to him, and said:
“I say, cull,” was Spike’s greeting, “get out of here with us to another
joint, where we can patter a bit.”
Without knowing why they wanted to go to another place, nevertheless he
got up willingly and followed them out into the street.
Spike led them to a place in Bond Street, not far from the Bowery, and
evidently one which he knew only from the outside.
“Yer see, cull,” he said, “I don’t know much about dis place, but it’s
quiet, and there’ll be no mix-up wid de rounders and de culls.”
“What are you wanting to hide for, Spike?” asked Patsy.
“Oh, there’s nothin’ doin’,” said Spike. “Only I want to talk to you
about de things you was puttin’ up to me dis morning.”
“Well, what of it?” said Patsy.
“Didn’t you say,” said Spike, “dat there was some dollars for me if I
could get something for you?”
“Yes,” replied Patsy, “that’s what I said.”
“You said it was a leather case, with somethin’ into it what you wanted;
ain’t dat right?”
“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “what are you getting to?”
“I want to git dem dollars you was talkin’ about,” said Spike. “Dere’s
been nothin’ doin’ for me dis long time, and I’m broke. So if you give
me de right steer, I’m goin’ for dem dollars.”
“Well,” said Patsy, “all there is of it is that a leather case, with
some things in it, was taken out of that house in Thirty-fifth Street
last night. The man from whom it was taken will put up good money to
have it back.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Herron, and he lives in that house.”
“What does he do downtown?”
“Oh, he’s a broker or something in Broad Street.”
“Say, I want ter git de rights of dis,” said Spike, in a businesslike
way.
“I’m givin’ it ter you as much as I know.”
“Well, what was in de case? Money, checks? What?”
“Why,” said Patsy, “as I understand it, it was some drawings and a model
of a new invention, which is valuable.”
“Well, wasn’t his nibs tryin’ to rob the inventor of it?” asked Spike,
shrewdly.
“The inventor is dead,” said Patsy, wondering where Spike got all his
knowledge from.
“Den it was his widder?” said Spike.
“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “what is this you’re givin’ me? What I
know is that Mr. Herron paid the widder his good money for those things,
and that they were stolen from him. Now, Spike, it was you who put it
into my head from the first that a swell cracksman from Philadelphia,
Lannigan, cracked the crib and took that case.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Then you give it me that when you ran against Lannigan he wouldn’t
cough up and let you in.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Now I’m goin’ to speak a little piece,” said Patsy. “Spike, you have
seen Lannigan since I saw you last, and you’ve got into the job.”
“You’re away off, Patsy,” said Spike.
“I don’t think I am,” said Patsy. “Lannigan has let you into the job,
and you’re tryin’ to pump me as to who will give up the best for that
case.”
“Oh, yer away off, Patsy,” repeated Spike; “ain’t he, Bally?”
The crook turned to the other one for confirmation of his words, which
was readily given.
“Mebbe I am,” replied Patsy, “but if it isn’t that, what is your little
game?”
“I am just tryin’ to loin a little somet’in’ to see if I can’t work dat
bloke, Lannigan, for a show at dem dollars.”
All this seemed to be very plausible on the part of Spike, and was said
with a very frank manner.
But Patsy was not deceived. He knew something had occurred since he had
last seen Spike, but just what it was he was not able to tell.
“Well, Spike,” he said, after a few moments’ thought, “it all comes back
to what I told you in the beginning. There’s one man who’ll give up more
for those papers than any one else, and to get them back I don’t think
he’ll ask any questions.”
“Dat’s de point,” said Spike. “I was wantin’ to know what kind of a hole
I was gettin’ meself into if I did get me hooks on those papers and go
talkin’ to his nibs about ’em.”
Patsy thought rapidly. He began to believe that the crook already had
the papers in his possession, or that he was in a position to obtain
them whenever he could drive a proper bargain with those who would pay
for their return.
Recalling that Ida had been told by Nick that she must try to get on
terms of good standing with Mrs. Pemberton, the widow of the inventor, a
bright idea struck him.
It was ten o’clock in the morning when Ida had received her orders from
Nick, and it was now nearly six o’clock in the evening. Such was Patsy’s
faith in Ida that he actually believed by this time Ida was installed as
a member of Mrs. Pemberton’s family.
Seeing that Spike was reluctant to go to Mr. Herron, it occurred to
Patsy that, having possession of the papers, as he believed, or knowing
how he could get possession of them, something Spike would not admit to
Patsy, Spike could be more easily persuaded to go to the widow with
them. Then if he, Patsy, were to notify Ida of the intended call, they
would be in a pretty fair position to recover the papers.
Acting on this thought, Patsy said:
“Of course, Spike, my boss is working for Herron. I am working for my
boss, so I’m workin’ for Herron, too. Now, if you can get your hooks on
that case, or what’s in it, and you don’t want to tackle Herron, why not
tackle my boss.”
“What?” cried Spike, in horror. “Tackle Nick Carter? Nit, nit, Pauline.”
“Well, then, if that don’t suit you,” said Patsy, “I’ll give you another
steer. The widder will put up for them papers, and put up big.”
“Now, you’re shouting,” said Spike. “Dat’s de lay. Now, where is she?”
“Her name is Pemberton, but you can’t get to her before ten o’clock
to-morrow morning,” said Patsy, anxious to get enough time to notify Ida
and to let her arrange for the part she was to play in the matter.
He was thoughtful a moment or two, and then he said:
“If you can work the Lannigan end, Spike,” he said, “you come to me
to-morrow morning at nine o’clock and I’ll give you the place where Mrs.
Pemberton lives; and, say, Spike, if you pull it off, you ought to do
something square with me for putting you on and giving you the straight
steer.”
“Sure,” said Spike. “Dere ain’t nothin’ in de hull shootin’ match dat I
didn’t get from youse. I’ll give yer a whack if I pulls anything off.”
Patsy now believed that he had gotten from Spike all that was possible,
and that he had laid a train in which Spike could be used which would
lead to good results, and he was anxious to get away and hunt up Nick to
report to him what he had done.
Seeking the best excuse he could, he left the two and went over to the
Bowery.
In doing so, his purpose was to take one of the uptown lines of cars and
then cross to the west side, but on reaching the corner of Bond Street,
and the Bowery, he saw some one on the opposite side of the street that
looked to him very much like the one he had seen on the corner of
Thirty-fourth Street and who the Chicago detective had told him was
Lannigan.
The distance across the Bowery at that point was long, and he hurried
across it in order to be certain that he was right.
He had so crossed the Bowery as to come up behind Lannigan, and as he
stepped up on the sidewalk a hand was laid on his shoulder.
He turned and saw Chick.
“What is it, youngster?” asked Chick.
“Are you following that man?” asked Patsy.
“Lannigan? Yes.”
“Then, it is Lannigan?” asked Patsy.
“Yes,” replied Chick. “But where are your men?”
“Over here in a saloon nearby.”
“Lannigan is looking for them,” said Chick.
“The deuce! What for?”
“To put holes in them,” laughed Chick.
“What does he want to do that for?” asked Patsy.
“He thinks they stole that case of the drawings from him,” said Chick.
“Say!” exclaimed Patsy, “where’s the chief?”
“He’s right here,” said Chick.
“Here!” said Patsy. “Show me where he is--quick!”
Seeing that Patsy was unusually earnest, Chick gave the signal, which
brought Nick into sight in an instant. As he came up Chick said:
“Patsy’s got something on his mind and wants to talk.”
“Chick, you keep your eye on Lannigan, and I’ll see what Patsy has to
say,” returned Nick.
He then turned to Patsy, asking what had excited him.
“Well,” said Patsy, “I hardly know where to begin, but I’ve been
following Spike Thomas and Bally Morris all day. I’ve been thinking that
Spike had put up a job with Lannigan to get the most money he could for
those drawings, but Chick tells me that Lannigan has been robbed of them
that he thinks Spike did it.”
“Well, Patsy,” said Nick, “tell me the whole story and we’ll see how it
fits in with what we know.”
Patsy then recited to Nick all that had occurred between himself, Spike
and Bally Morris, from the time they had met in Thirty-fourth Street up
to the time they had been traced by him to Avenue A, their brief
disappearance, the row he had had in the house in Avenue A, the
surprising appearance of the two from a direction he least expected
them, his tracing them to Spike’s home, with the subsequent interview
which he had just had with Spike in the saloon in Bond Street.
Patsy told this rapidly, but clearly, and Nick was an attentive
listener.
On his part, Nick related to Patsy all that had occurred from the time
they had parted on the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue,
including, of course, the astonishing theft from Lannigan of the
contents of the leather case, concluding with the statement that Chick
and he had followed Lannigan in the belief that the cracksman was
hunting for Spike Thomas and Bally Morris.
It did not take long for these two bright-minded people to fit in the
two stories into a complete whole.
“It’s all straight as a whistle, chief,” said Patsy. “Lannigan threw
Spike down. Spike, from what he had learned from me, made up his mind
that he would rob Lannigan of that case. To get on a track of him and
know what he was doing and when he was out of his room, was what he was
laying on the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue for. Just
as soon as he saw Lannigan with your men, the two of them scampered off
to Avenue A.”
Here Nick stopped Patsy to make sure by inquiry that there was no
mistake as to the locality that both had tracked their people to on
Avenue A. That being settled to the satisfaction of both as being the
same, Patsy went on:
“Between the time I saw them go into the house where I had that row, and
when I saw them coming down in such a hurry, they had got into
Lannigan’s apartments and swiped those papers. I’ll bet my stockings,
chief, that all those things are in Spike’s rooms now, down here in
Rivington Street.”
“I think that is about the size of it,” said Nick. “But that is a good
job that you have put up to send Spike with the things to Mrs.
Pemberton. Mrs. Pemberton has recently got some sense, and believes
that Elwell is trying to do her. Ida is in a position to get close to
her, and I think, after all, that is the best way to handle it.”
“Yet we might get them quicker by making a raid on Spike’s rooms,” said
Patsy.
“And we might lose them all, too. The first thing we’ve got to do,
Patsy, is to take care of Spike, for if Lannigan meets him there will be
trouble to pay, if there is not a dead Spike.”
“Then,” said Patsy, “I’d better hunt up Spike and warn him to keep out
of Lannigan’s way, although I think that’s what he’s doing now.”
He turned to cross the Bowery, but, in doing so, saw both Spike and
Bally Morris crossing diagonally toward the drinking saloon which was
Spike’s hang-out.
Without saying a word to Nick, he darted off to intercept Spike, while
Nick hurried along toward the corner.
As Nick approached the corner he saw Lannigan rush across the sidewalk
in the direction from which Spike Thomas and Bally Morris were
approaching.
Chick was in close pursuit, and Lannigan seemed to be pulling at his
pocket as if trying to draw a revolver.
Nick also sprang in pursuit, and so it was that as Spike and Bally
approached, all unconscious of the danger they were in, three from
different points were approaching to their rescue.
It was no part of Nick’s plans to have Spike put out of the way at a
time when he could be most useful to him.
As Lannigan left the sidewalk, reaching the roadway, he brought his
revolver out, being then not more than twenty feet from Spike.
But, as he lifted his revolver to fire, Chick sprang on his back, and at
the same instant Nick was beside Lannigan, seizing his revolver arm.
In the meantime, Patsy had reached the two young crooks and in the most
energetic manner had ordered them to drop.
However, the danger was over, for Lannigan was in the hands of two men,
and was a child in strength compared with either one of them.
By the time Nick had taken the revolver from Lannigan and forced him
back to the sidewalk, Spike and Bally had taken to their heels, closely
followed by Patsy.
Nick had now no doubt, as a result of the investigations of the day,
that Lannigan and the one they had came to call the Unknown were the
ones who had robbed Mr. Herron’s house, but it was not in his plans yet
to make an arrest--not, at all events, until after the papers and
drawings Nick had been retained to recover were in their hands. Nor was
it in his plans to let Lannigan know that he had been interfered with by
Nick Carter, if he did not then know it. So he said:
“You must be a fool, to try and shoot a man in daylight like this. You
want to thank your stars that there was somebody here to stop you. Now,
get away quick, before a policeman comes, or you’ll be nipped as it is.”
Lannigan looked at him with a malignant glance, but, making no reply,
turned and walked up the Bowery.
Nick signaled Chick not to lose sight of him, and he himself went off to
find Ida and post her as to the part she was to play when Spike opened
up his negotiations with the widow for the return of the precious
drawings.