Morgan's efforts to find Jaggers were untiring and equally unavailing,
and at the end of the first week he was certain Jaggers was not to be
found in Blackwall, so certain that he ventured to express this belief
to Blount. The latter, however, was equally certain Jaggers was in
Blackwall. "Keep at it," he said; "you'll run across his trail yet,
although I was a little ahead when I said a week," and Morgan
accordingly continued the hunt.
Blount was now in a particularly hopeful mood, and felt confident Morgan
would unearth Jaggers; and he had obtained some interesting information
concerning Jacobs, the attorney, through the office-boy, whose release
he had obtained for the purpose of using him against his employer.
When the boy called at Morgan's house, according to his promise, and
Blount instead of Morgan met him, it required some persuasion to make
him talk; but he was eager enough to do so when Blount modestly admitted
that it was to him he owed his liberty, and on him depended his
enjoyment of it in the future.
Blount then learned that the paper and chemicals which had been found
upon the boy, were intended for a clerk recently employed by Mr. Jacobs,
for what purpose the boy did not know, except that they were to be used
in copying some papers. Did he know the contents of the papers or their
character? No, nothing, except that Mr. Hall had left them with Mr.
Jacobs.
That was all Blount could get out of the boy at the first meeting.
"Now, Henry," he said, when the boy had finished, "this stealing
business of yours is only postponed, but if you do as I bid you, it will
never come up again. If you don't you will certainly go to jail, and in
short order."
Henry was only too eager to promise to do anything to prevent his
re-arrest, and Blount continued:
"Very well, Henry, we'll see how you get on. Now then! You get to the
office first in the morning--don't you? Yes--well, to-morrow morning be
there particularly early and make a rough copy of the papers this new
clerk is working on. If you can't copy all, read the rest carefully so
that you can tell me what it is about, and copy the balance next
morning. Then you must get me a sheet of the paper and a few drops of
the ink. If you do all this correctly it will be a good deal in your
favor, and may obtain your absolute release from this foolish trouble
you are in. You must also pay close attention to what passes between Mr.
Jacobs and the new clerk and try to remember it. By the way! What is the
new clerk's name?"
"Quirk, sir, and I heard Mr. Jacobs tell him when he came first, that if
he didn't keep sober it would be worse for him."
"Oh! ho! Got a grip on him--eh? Well, that's all for to-night, Henry. Be
sharp now, and get here as early to-morrow night as you can."
Shortly after the boy had gone, and while Blount was musing over his
story regarding the queer documents, the preparation of which required
such special paper and peculiar ink--for he shrewdly suspected the
chemicals were to be used in making the latter--Morgan entered looking a
trifle exultant.
"I have located him at last!" he said.
"Of course; he will be safe until you get back? You know I don't want to
lose sight of him now under any circumstances."
"Yes--he's safe enough. He's blind drunk at the 'North Star.' He has a
room there, and has been out of the house but once since hiring it.
'The Knifer' must be somewhere else, for from the description he is the
friend and only caller who comes occasionally to see Jaggers."
Blount was not of the "I told you so" breed, but came near looking it as
he said:
"Very good, Morgan! Very good! Now get back as quick as you can and
don't leave him again until I come. I think between this boy and Sanders
and what we can make Jaggers say, we are getting near the end of the
Martin matter. Sanders looks tired out already, and if I can only keep
up the strain he's under he will give up everything in a day or two.
Meantime you look out for Jaggers, and I'll see about these queer
papers. I'm beginning to think they will form an important link in the
chain which we will soon finish forging."
Morgan started back at once, pleased with Blount's commendation and
confidence in him; but found on his arrival at the "North Star,"--which
was a house of fair character and had for that reason escaped close
attention--that there had been a row during his absence, and that
Jaggers had been stabbed by a drunken sailor. The injured man was being
carried up-stairs when he arrived, and on his heels came the doctor.
Morgan, who had been informed that the wound was a bad one, now
justified Blount's high opinion of him by making a bold stroke. Calling
the doctor aside, he informed him who he was and that Jaggers was a
criminal.
"You can, if necessary, but it probably will not be, introduce me as
your assistant; and then, whether the wound is really dangerous or not,
he must be made to believe it is--make him believe he is dying!"
The doctor hesitated and looked doubtful, but when Morgan said it was
"worth five pounds," all hesitation and doubt vanished--of course, Mr.
Morgan was a representative of the law, and he must do as he required.
Jaggers was really seriously hurt, and fully appreciated that fact. He
greeted the doctor with a curse for delaying so long, and then asked
what chances he had of recovery.
"Don't be afraid of tellin' me!" he exclaimed, as the doctor, after
carefully sewing the wound, stood looking gravely and thoughtfully at
his patient--as per instructions.
Morgan, standing to one side and out of Jaggers' view, acknowledged to
himself that the doctor had fairly earned the money, as he saw the more
than professional gravity deepen into positive gloom before the reply
came:
"You are in a decidedly dangerous condition. Wounded as you are in the
groin, I cannot undertake to say you will live two hours!"
Jaggers was _not_ wounded in the groin, but of course did not know it,
and looked terror-stricken on hearing the verdict he had so freely
invited. His terror was increased by the doctor's suggestion that a
clergyman was next in order.
"No, no! I want none of the d----d canting parsons!" he cried; and then,
catching sight of Morgan, who had purposely come within range of his
sight, exclaimed: "Who is that? What does he want?"
Before the doctor could reply, Morgan stepped forward and answered for
himself. Jaggers was now in the desired condition to continue the bold
game he was playing.
"I am a detective, Jaggers, and I came here for you; but as death claims
you first, I suppose I can only wait for the end."
Jaggers was very weak from loss of blood, owing to the delay in sending
for a physician, and the subsequent delay of that gentleman after his
arrival at the "North Star" in consulting with Morgan, and this
weakness increased the terrors of his imagination.
"Wot fur?" he asked.
"Murder of Golden in Burns Alley," was the sententious reply.
"It's a lie! It's a lie!" screamed Jaggers, starting up with sudden
energy. "It's a lie! He was my friend!"
"Well, well! Never mind. It don't matter _now_, of course, but if you
did not murder him, how did you get possession of that draft and the
other papers? Sanders says he got the draft through you."
The doctor was standing in front of Jaggers, and Morgan motioned him to
take down what was said.
Wearied, confused, and believing himself dying, Jaggers replied:
"I did give Sanders a draft, but the old man never had no draft! That
devil, Hall, had that, but me and 'The Knifer' got the best of him. We
got into his room one night and got his papers. They wos sewed up in a
chest-pertecter an' I kep' them just for spite! They wos no good to
me--only the draft! And that's gone too! Poor Sanders! He's in for
that!"
"Doctor!" called Morgan, sharply, but with a significant look. "Give
this man something to brace him up! I must get this thing in writing!"
The doctor hastily prepared something for Jaggers, which was scarcely in
his stomach before Morgan asked:
"What you say may possibly save Sanders' neck from the rope and put it
around Hall's, but you must sign a statement of it!"
Morgan had touched the right key, and knew it when he saw the glitter of
the dying (?) man's eyes on mentioning Hall.
"Now then, Jaggers! If you want to put the rope on the right man you
must tell me where the papers are. Where are they now? You've got 'em, I
suppose?"
"No--Jack (The Knifer) played me a mean trick. He's got all the papers
an' wouldn't give 'em to me. He wos 'ere yesterd'y an' I don't just know
where he's gone--but 'e's got 'em."
The doctor finished writing almost as soon as Jaggers stopped speaking,
and after making his mark to it the latter dropped back on the pillow.
"Dead!" exclaimed Morgan.
"Oh, no! Just asleep!" said the doctor.
Reassured on this point, Morgan despatched a message to Blount and then
proceeded to make himself comfortable for the night.
Next morning at six o'clock Blount appeared, and simultaneously Jaggers
awoke.
A long conversation ensued--Blount holding Jaggers's statement of the
night before in his hand.