"Pray tell us what it is?" exclaimed one of the committee, his face
lighting up as if scales were falling from his eyes, and he was to be
suddenly extricated from the "mystery of darkness."
"Well, gentlemen," he responded, "my partner and I have satisfied
ourselves that we are on the right track. In our business, you must
know, one case is often suggestive in unraveling another. We get to be
able to track old offenders, as the Indian tracks his enemy through the
forest. It would take me too long to explain the whole mystery to you.
But you may be sure that we've got hold of some of the right 'ear
marks' of these villains, and my partner is not only willing to
undertake the case, but I am confident that he will work it out all
right. This is all I can say to you on that point. Shall he go ahead?"
"Certainly, certainly," responded the committee, one after the other,
"if _you_ think it can be done; our neighbors must have relief from
these outrages."
"Well, one thing I wish to enjoin upon you, gentlemen. In calling a
public meeting, and appointing you as a committee to come publicly to
me, your citizens have taken false steps. Your business ought to have
been kept private--known only to a few of you at most, and that in
positive secrecy. Now the first steps toward undoing this false one, is
for you to report, on your arrival home, that you couldn't get me; that
I was on the point of starting for Europe; but that you told me your
story, and I said it was all the work of some old burglars, whom the
police had driven out from this quarter, and that there was probably
connected with them an old London burglar by the name of 'Jerry Black,'
or who bore that name once, and is now supposed to be living in
Cincinnati; that I said further that 'twas a very hard case to work up,
these old burglars understanding their business so well, and that the
best way was for your citizens to defend their houses and themselves as
well as they can, and wait for some accident to disclose the robbers,
for 'murder will out' sooner or later."
The committee replied that they would heed the advice perfectly.
"Now, then, for the special injunction, which is this. Talk as little
in general about your visit here as you can, each of you; but do you
each be careful on this point, namely, not to mention the fact that you
met my partner, or that I have one at all. Indeed, you can truthfully
say that I have no partner, if anybody there should happen to have
heard that I have; for although we are partners in the sense of
companions, and coöperators sometimes, yet we are not 'partners' in the
legal sense of that term, though we call each other so, in the style of
the profession. Remember this!"
The committee promised to do so, and we went on talking together,
laying our plans to the extent that I should duly visit the place; that
none of the committee was to recognize me if he met me in his walks;
and that I should probably appear there as a Cincinnati merchant; for
the detectives of the best repute in Cincinnati had already visited the
place unavailingly, and it would not be suspected that poorer ones
would be employed from Cincinnati. I made inquiries of the committee
about the various businesses transacted in the place, and asked the
names of the other leading citizens, for the committee were all of them
of the "heavy men" of the place. Learning all I thought of use of these
gentlemen, I promised to appear, if my life was spared, in due time,
and not at a late day at that, in the town and go to work; and the
committee left.
It was a useless promise which we exacted of the committee that none of
them should recognize me when in their village; for when they came to
the office I had but a little while before returned from an expedition,
in which I had worn a simple but effectual disguise. That removed, and
my coat exchanged for another one in my closet, a few minutes after the
committee left, they would not have recognized me had they returned at
the time.
Duly after the departure of my partner for Europe I was on my way to
Ohio. Before he left we had talked up the matter in all the possible
phases it could present, and among the last things he said to me, on
our way down to the steamer, was, "That case _may_ bother you; but it
seems to me now as easy as going down hill. We have the sight of it,
and if the committee report as I instructed them, you'll succeed at
once. In your first letter to me" (which, by the way, it was agreed
should be sent by the next week's steamer) "I shall not be surprised to
learn of 'victory won.'"
"O, no, impossible; you forget the distance."
"Yes, truly I did. Say, then, by the next letter," for he expected to
be gone for some three or four months, if not longer.
"But," said he, "don't let anything deflect you from our theory,
whether you succeed in that time or not. It _will_ work out on our
theory some way, at some time."
I bade my partner good by, as the ocean steamer started on her proud
course out into the bay, and returned to my office, to perfect my plans
in detail for the work before me, and was, as I said before, duly on my
way to Ohio. My first point was Cincinnati, where, arriving safely, I
set myself about becoming acquainted with names of streets, then
localities, public places, names of many citizens and their
business--in short, I "booked" myself up in regard to Cincinnati, in
order to be "at home" whenever talking with the citizens of the village
to which I was going, and who would soon be told that I was from
Cincinnati.
Leaving the latter place, I made my way to the village in question,
arriving there towards evening, on a lumbering stage-coach,
through--literally, not "over"--the deep clay-mudded roads, and
alighted at the principal hotel of the place. The night before, or
rather on the morning of the same day, for it was between the hours of
one and two A. M., a citizen of considerable standing had been robbed
on his way home from a house a little out of the village, where he had
been to watch with a sick friend, a farmer. Being relieved from
watching about one o'clock, and his wife wishing to take the early
stage which left at the inhospitable hour of six, on the road towards
Columbus, whither she was going, he thought to return. For a week or
two the robbers had ceased from their theretofore almost nightly
outrages, and it was with a sort of smile of contempt that Mr. Hiram
Perkins,--for that was the citizen's name, replied to an old lady
nurse, as he was departing, and who asked, "Ain't you afraid of the
robbers, Mr. Perkins?" "O, no, 'aunty' they won't touch me; besides, I
guess they are all dead now, 'aunty.' We haven't heard 'em peep for a
week or two--gone off to some better land."
But he encountered them, nevertheless, and lost four hundred dollars,
and something over, which had been paid to him the evening before, at a
time too late to make deposit of it in the little village bank, and
which he had been foolish enough to not leave at home.
This amount of money was the largest which the robbers had yet secured.
They had effected the robbery, to be sure, of some negotiable bonds of
considerably greater value; but this was an extreme case, and was, of
course, at the time of my arrival there the chief topic of excitement.
Added to the robbery, was the fact that Mr. Perkins, who had made stout
resistance, had been severely beaten, and though not fatally bruised,
was lying quite feverish in bed: such was the report.
I had had a room put in order for me, neglecting to put my name on the
dirty little register of the hotel, where I observed that everybody who
could write, and who stepped in to the "tavern," was in the habit of
writing his name, and putting after it "City" (that was the town where
I was),--a custom, probably, introduced by some joker, who had been to
Cincinnati, and seen names registered in that way there.
But when I came down from my room into the "office," or "bar-room,"
properly speaking, the young clerk said to me, "Would the stranger
enter his name?" I had reflected, meanwhile, that I must see this Mr.
Perkins, and had changed my original plan of proceedings a little, so I
entered my name as "Dr. H. H. Hudson, Cin.," with a somewhat bold dash
of the pen, and soon after found myself on the street, seeking the way
to Mr. Perkins's house. While in the hotel I encountered, and had quite
a long talk with one of the committee who had visited us in New York.
He kept his promise, and did not "recognize" me, and perhaps he would
not if he had known me. He told me the whole story of his visit to New
York; what the detective said to him, and the rest of the committee;
and, said he, "He was right when he said they were old burglars who
were committing these outrages, for nobody but men hardened in crime
could have robbed Mr. Perkins, as they did last night;" and when I went
out of the tavern, after registering my name, to seek Mr. P.'s house, I
encountered my committee-man. Again, as I was loitering on the street,
hardly knowing what to do to learn the way to Mr. Perkins's, he had
evidently looked on the register after my departure from the office or
bar-room, for he accosted me.
"Ah, again! Happy to come across you again. Dr. Hudson, of Cincinnati,
I hear?"
"Yes, sir," I replied; "a doctor by profession, but retired somewhat
from practice."
"Yes, yes; yours is a pretty hard life, that of a doctor, sir. I
suppose all you doctors in the city retire as soon as you get rich,"
said the facetious committee-man.
I replied, "that I had not retired from business exactly, for I was
engaged more or less in speculation; but had always pursued the course
of registering myself as a doctor at hotels, for I found that I
generally got better treatment than when I registered in my plain name."
"Well, sir," said he, "I was thinking of going to call at friend
Perkins's, and see how he's getting along. He's pretty low, I fear. As
you are a doctor, perhaps you would like to accompany me. You might
suggest something for his comfort."
I accepted the invitation with a half-reluctant manner, and we walked
on towards Mr. Perkins's house, my friend, meanwhile, telling me all
about Mr. P., his wealth, family affairs, etc. We were bidden to enter
the house on knocking, and the committee-man was invited into the
"bedroom" to see Mr. Perkins, from which he came soon out, and said,--
"I dare say you'd like to see Mr. Perkins. He is pretty severely
bruised; but says he's better, and shall be out in a day or two. I told
him I had a friend along with me, Dr. Hudson, of Cincinnati; and he
says he don't need a doctor, but that he shall be glad to see you as a
gentleman, and friend of mine." So I accompanied my friend to Mr.
Perkins's room; and had hardly been presented to him before I made up
my mind to take him into my counsels, for there was a certain frank
nobility in his countenance, and an intelligence which quite won my
esteem on the instant.
We conversed about the robbery, and, after that, about various topics
of the day; and the more we talked, the more I liked him. By and by the
committee-man recollected an engagement; said that he must go, but
didn't want to interrupt Mr. Perkins's and my conversation; "for,
doctor, I perceive," said he, "that you've made him very cheerful,
without pills even. Sometimes I think there's more in a doctor than in
his medicines," said he, with a very arch smile.
"O, no," said Mr. Perkins; "if you must go, you needn't take the
doctor. He's a stranger here, and 'tisn't late yet, and he can find his
way back easily enough."
And so I staid after the committee-man went out; and I talked with Mr.
Perkins more about the robbery, and the burglaries, etc.; but I could
get no occasion for private conversation with him, as the bed-room
door, opening into a "sitting-room," was constantly open, and the
sitting-room generally occupied by one or more persons, females, or
else they were flitting back and forth; so at last I told Mr. Perkins
that I had come to him on some business in regard to which I should
like to consult him in the morning a little while, if he were well
enough. He very kindly consented, and I departed.
On returning to the hotel, I was accosted at once by a gentleman,
around whom stood a dozen other eager ones. "Doctor, you've been over
to see Mr. Perkins, we hear; how's he getting along? Recover soon?"
"O, yes," said I; "he'll recover speedily if he is left quiet for a day
or two. The neighbors, I hear, are running in to see him a great deal;
but I think I shall order that nobody be admitted for a day or two."
Fortunately, Mr. Perkins's family physician had at this time gone to
the funeral of his mother, whose home had been somewhere in
Pennsylvania, and Mr. Perkins would not call either of the two other
"doctors" of the place, styling them "blasted quacks." So that I could
very properly say that.
I listened quite late that night to the villagers' talk about the
robberies. Every new man who came into the bar-room had something to
tell, and everybody had a theory; but they all declared that the
burglars were old heads at the business--hard to catch, "as that New
York detective told the committee," they said. Things were working
well, and I finally retired to rest, and slept very soundly, to my
surprise; for strange beds generally vex me, and keep me awake.
The next morning I called on Mr. Perkins early, and found him quite
comfortable; asked him to order that neighbors who might be coming in
to inquire for the state of his health, should not be allowed to enter
his room; and though surprised at first at my request, he granted it,
and I felt secure of a good, uninterrupted talk with him. I sounded
him, to my satisfaction, in that he was a man who could keep a secret
profoundly, and then made known my business to him. He was glad I had
come, he said, and he would give me all the information in his power.
I inquired of everybody and everything in the place which could have
any bearing on the matter in hand; learned the size, tones of voice,
style of language, as far as he could remember, of his assailants, the
highway robbers; gathered from him all I could of what had been
overheard from the robbers' lips on various occasions; and I learned
one especially important matter of him, which was, that one of the
robbers was dressed in "a loose sack, like," and that in his contest
with him, he thought that he felt that one of his hands, off from which
a glove became slipped in the fight, was callous on the back. This he
had not laid up in memory, but my questions called it to mind. At this
point I developed my theory that the robberies were committed by
residents of the village; and told him that they were not what
professional robbers would call "good work," skilfully done; and then I
asked him,--
"Now, Mr. Perkins, do you know any man in or about this place who has a
scarred, hard hand, such as you describe?"
"Yes; but I would not dare mention his name in this connection, for he
is an innocent, elegant young gentleman, very mild in his manners; came
here a few months ago with the best recommendations from a clerical
friend, an old schoolmate of mine, in Massachusetts, and bore a letter
to me from him. O, I won't allow myself to name him; it would be too
bad," said he.
"But," said I, "the greatest scoundrels steal the livery of heaven to
serve the devil in, you know; and I am here to work, and you want the
full truth to come out, hit where it may--don't you?"
"Yes; but it can't be this young man: and yet the villain was about his
size."
"And wore a 'sack, like,' you say. Do you know if this young man has
any such garment?"
"O, no, it was quite like a hostler's work coat. He hasn't anything of
the sort."
"Well--no matter: please give me his name, and tell me all about him.
What is he doing here?"
"Teaching music, principally; teaches most anything--the languages,
especially French; says he has lived in France a while; but 'tain't
he--and--if 'twas, I don't know but I should forgive him, if I knew it,
as far as I am concerned, and let him go, or send him off; for he's
engaged to a beautiful niece of mine, and first made her acquaintance
here at my house. They had but just left when you called last night,
and were full of sympathy for me. He is very active in devising plans
to catch the villains, and has been out frequently with others, keeping
night watch."
"Were there any robberies on the nights of such watching?" I asked.
"No; but I never suspected there would be, when so many were watching."
"Yet," said I, "from what I learn, the robberies have been very bold at
times--early in the evening, when people were abroad."
"True," he replied. "I didn't think of that before. I wish I could have
got at the scoundrels' faces that night; but their caps were securely
tied on, and their faces blackened."
"They were white men, you are sure, then?"
"Yes; no doubt of that."
Finally, I persuaded Mr. Perkins to give me the man's name, as he knew,
of course, I could now find it out by inquiring of somebody else, if I
thought prudent to inquire.
We talked over the matter still further: and Mr. Perkins agreed to keep
to his bed for two or three days. I was to reconnoitre, and report to
him what I found out, and we were to consult together, and I left. I
avoided making the acquaintance of the young man in question, although
I had twenty occasions for so doing for a day or two; but on the night
of the third day after my arrival another burglary took place, of
considerable amount, and there was evidence, too, of an attempt at
arson. In listening to the investigation of the burglary, I thought I
saw that the young music teacher was as likely as anybody to have had a
hand in it; and was confirmed in my suspicions by his manner, when I
heard him talk it over next day with some friends at the hotel.
I managed to get near him, and spoke of the robberies as the most
daring outrages, and suggested that there must be a gang of
villains--old offenders--secreted near the village somewhere, or else
they must, if coming from abroad, perform herculean feats of riding.
But he told me he thought my theory was a mistake, as no strange horses
or teams had ever been discovered in or near the village on the
occasions of robbery; and entered very intelligently into the question,
declaring at last that the villains must be caught if he himself were
obliged, with others, to lie in wait for a year. There was something a
little bombastic in his style as he said this, which confirmed my
suspicions of him more and more. He told me he had heard of my
attendance upon Mr. Perkins; was glad he had such skilful care, and
that he seemed improving; and as he resorted there much himself, had
hoped to meet me there, but had not happened to; was glad to have made
my acquaintance, etc.; all of which was uttered with a very innocent,
and indeed pleasant air, yet I suspected him, somehow, only the more.
Mr. Perkins kept apparently ill, and I visited him regularly. Two
nights after my interview with the music teacher, as related above, I
was going home from Mr. Perkins's to the hotel. (I should mention that
the teacher, whose name in the village was Henry Downs,--but not his
true name,--had called at Mr. Perkins's, and left a quarter of an hour
before.) Going to the hotel, as I have said, I passed two men standing
beside a large tree on the line of the sidewalk. The evening was very
dark, and I only saw them when within six feet of them, perhaps, and I
heard one of them say, "Ah, ha! the old fool is unsuspicious; we'll get
another chance near home. A good night to-night, eh?" The voice was
unmistakably that of the teacher, and I inferred that he alluded to Mr.
Perkins. "Hush," I heard the other man say, as I approached in passing
them; and I saw that the other man had on a "sack-like," such as Mr.
Perkins had described. Of course I was now fully confirmed in my
suspicions, and devised various plans to trap the villains, but nothing
I could think of seemed likely to me or Mr. Perkins to prove practical.
At last we hit upon this as a first step. I was to get ill enough to
keep my room as Mr. Perkins got well. He was to visit me in turn, and
was to consult the committee, who were greatly vexed all the while
among themselves (as it appeared afterwards) that that 'rascally New
York detective did not come on.' Mr. Perkins was to report me as a man
of much wealth, with quite a sum of money, which I had brought
intending to speculate, but having looked around, and not being
satisfied with any real estate for sale there, was going away as soon
as I recovered. This was noised about, and a week or so passed before I
got up and was ready to go. Mr. Perkins, in the mean while, had come to
my opinion that the music teacher was indeed the villain, and believing
it his duty to expose him rather than shield him on his niece's
account, entered quite spiritedly into my plans.
The music teacher was more attentive to me than ever when I met him,
after it was said that I was rich; and at a little party which Mr.
Perkins gave me the night before I was to leave, the teacher was all
attention to me. It was given out that I should leave the next night,
on the way north of the village, to call on a relative living about
twenty miles from that village. I must be there, it was said, that
night, to meet my friend from whom I had had a letter, and who would
leave by the stage the next morning after; and for the next day Mr.
Perkins and I had a ride of twenty miles and back to take in another
direction to look at some mills in which he was persuading me to take
an interest. Mr. Perkins was to loan me his horse for the night trip.
The ladies present said, some of them, that they hoped Dr. Hudson would
not think of going in the night. "Just think of the robbers." I replied
that robbers never touched doctors; that doctors never had any money
about them; that they would not take my pills, I presumed, if I were to
prescribe them regularly; and so we joked over the matter.
The next day Mr. Perkins and I, having ridden out of town, returned
after dark, and after a good supper at his house, I paid my bills at
the hotel, took his horse and sallied forth on my "night visit." I had
not ridden over three miles, and was passing along a dark avenue lined
with trees, when suddenly two men appeared before me, each grasping at
a rein, and one presenting a pistol as near my head as he could reach,
exclaimed, in a husky voice,--
"No noise, you old villain! Dismount!"
"Stop, stop!" said I, in a low voice. "Have mercy! What do you want of
me?"
"Nothing of _you_--but your money," answered the husky voice. "Get off
your horse quick, or I'll blow your brains out."
"I will, I will!" I whispered, with a voice that intimated trepidation,
"but my leg is a little lame. Give me your hand to help," and extended
my left hand, which he took in his left, still holding the pistol in
his right. He had to extend his left hand quite high to help me, and I
could not only feel, but see the scarred, hard hand--the same which Mr.
Perkins had felt, and a like of which deformed the otherwise handsome
music teacher. Of course his face, as well as his comrade's in crime,
was muffled.
Having dismounted, they insisted on my giving them all my money. I
consented without resistance, and pulled out my wallet, and handed him
fifteen dollars--a ten dollar and a five dollar bill.
"Give us the rest," said the husky voice.
"Gentlemen," I said, "I have no more."
"It is a lie, doctor," said the husky voice. "We know all about
you--we've watched you, and know that you brought hundreds of dollars
to the village below."
"I did," I said; "that is true enough; but my patient, Mr. Perkins, and
I took a ride to his mills to-day, and when there I invested what I
had, all but enough to pay my bills about here and get back again."
[Illustration: DR. HUDSON'S STRATAGEM WITH THE HIGHWAYMEN.]
"But we must search you."
I said "Very well," and they did search me most thoroughly, and took my
bull's-eye silver watch (not very valuable in itself, but the gift of
an old brother detective, who had since died. Said he, as he gave it to
me, "Don't let anybody rob you of that," with a laugh; and I thought
how funny it would seem to him, were he alive, to find _me_ parting
with it under _such_ circumstances).
The robbers let me go, saying they had no use for the horse, and bade
me have more money about me next time. Said they'd been called pretty
severe and cruel on certain occasions, but that they were gentle enough
with folks that didn't make foolish resistance, etc. Indeed, they tried
to be jocular with me; and I submitted to their course, and joined in
it, as the best way. They bade me a hearty good night, but enjoined me
not to stop anywhere and mention my loss till to-morrow, or they'd find
some way to dispose of me if I did, with like threats; and then darted
off into the side fields, bidding me to "go ahead," however; and I rode
on for some three miles, but fortunately, when riding with Mr. Perkins
that day, I had noticed a cross road, which would lead into the road on
which he and I had come out of and returned into the town. I was
meditating, at the time I came upon it, what to do. Should I ride back
furiously over the road on which I was robbed, the villains might
waylay me again, for, perhaps, they were not far off--may be were
watching. Perhaps they might fire upon me; but luckily here was the
cross road, and I darted down it, and found my way back into the
village by the old road, and you may be sure that my horse, if horses
have memories, did not soon forget that night's race, for I put him to
the top of his speed. I alighted at the barn of Mr. Perkins, and
fortunately found there his "hired man," who clapped the horse into the
stable at once, and I then felt secure. Getting access at once to Mr.
Perkins, I narrated my adventure. He was not astounded at what I had
learned, for he had for some time believed, as I, that the music
teacher was the man, but he was confounded that the villains let me off
so easily.
The next thing was to catch the scamps, and make the evidence against
them sure; and Mr. Perkins, at my suggestion, sent his man out to call
four of the most trusty citizens, two of whom chanced to be of the
original committee who waited upon my partner and me in New York, to
come to his house at once. To them, when they came, was intrusted his
plan. "Dr. Hudson" was now announced as the partner-detective whom they
had seen in New York. He, too, had been robbed, and he knew who were
the robbers--or one of them! Greater astonishment than these gentlemen
evinced at this disclosure could not well be expressed. But we did not
speak to them of the music teacher. They were to remain at Mr.
Perkins's till we should call them. Making some change in my dress by
aid of articles borrowed of Mr. Perkins, and of my countenance by
assuming a pair of false whiskers which I had brought with me, besides
a hat very unlike what I had been wearing in the village, and Mr.
Perkins disguising himself, we went forth, and placed ourselves where
we could readily perceive any comer to the house at which the music
teacher boarded. Patiently we watched. Two hours or more went by, when
a man came from the opposite course by which we expected him, and,
proceeding to the door of the house, evidently lightly tried it--could
not get in; went around the corner of the house, noiselessly raised a
side window, and as noiselessly mounted in. I was not over thirty feet
from him as he entered, and notwithstanding the darkness, I felt sure I
knew him, though he did not wear the sack. Mr. Perkins had seen his
stealthy entry, too, from another point, and in a few minutes we came
together, I having meanwhile slid up by the side of the house next to
the window, and heard the in-comer open or close a window above. He had
already gone to his room, which Mr. Perkins had told me was at the back
of the house. He knew the way to it--had called on the young man there.
We proceeded at once to Mr. Perkins's, instructed our waiting friends
what to do,--for we might need aids,--and asked them to follow. No man
was to speak a word, but do as he was bidden.
My dark lantern was lit and deposited under my cloak, and we went out,
along down the street, across another,--down another a little way, and
I saw that the citizens were occasionally looking wonder into each
other's eyes, as much as to say, Where are we going? We arrived at the
house, entered the yard. Mr. Perkins, by our arrangements, was to take
and post two of the men under the villain's window, to catch him in
case he should try to escape, to one of whom he gave a pistol, saying,
"Catch any man who tries to escape out of this house. Shoot him, if
necessary."
Up to this point not a word had been said to them of the music teacher.
We had thought best to not knock for admission, of course; and I got in
at the window where the villain had entered, proceeded to the little
hall, unlocked silently the front door, and let in Mr. P. and the two
other men. "Follow me softly," whispered Mr. P., and he led to the
villain's room.
An hour had passed since we saw him come in, and we concluded he'd be
asleep, as he was. We carefully tried the door: it was locked by a
button. Mr. Perkins whispered to me, "Shall we rap, and catch him when
he rises?"
"No, no," I answered quickly; and with a dash against the door with my
shoulders, easily effected entrance. The villain started wildly. I
threw the dazzling light of my dark lantern into his face, and rushed
upon him in bed, clutched his throat, and cried, "Seize his clothes,
and everything in the room! This is the man. Open the window, and call
in the others to the show;" and Mr. Perkins did so.
In an instant the two men had found their way up to the room; and, in
fact, the whole household was by this time aroused. We made speedy work
of searching the wretch's clothes, and among other money found the five
dollar bill taken from me. Without explanation, I passed it to Mr.
Perkins, who recognized a peculiar mark we had made upon it, its date,
etc. But the ten dollar bill was found in the villain's trunk, together
with quite a sum of money. Mr. Perkins recognized the marks we had
placed upon that: the watch was not to be found.
The teacher was a lithe, muscular fellow, and would have given me,
alone, much trouble to hold him; but he was overwhelmed, and did little
else but groan. We at once told him of the marked bills, etc., and
pointed out to him that his best course now was to expose his
accomplice or accomplices; that the bitterest curses of the law would
fall upon him if he did not.
The pale, trembling fellow, a real coward at heart, as many such
villains are, made his confession on the spot, notes of which were
taken down by me, and by one of the committe-men in his diary. He told
us that his accomplice was----, a son of a pretty well-to-do farmer,
whose name I cannot mention, and whose relations still reside in the
village--most estimable people, which is the reason why I have
carefully avoided mentioning the name of the place.
When he named his accomplice, one of the committee-men groaned audibly
(I should say that we had kept the inmates of the house out of the room
during this confession), for the accomplice, it appears, was that
committee-man's nephew!--a much-esteemed, industrious young man, led
away by the brilliancy, dash, and superior education of the music
teacher.
But where was the watch? The teacher told us. Under a barn belonging to
his accomplice's father, and not ten rods from his residence, was a
place of deposit for such things as they could not readily dispose of.
Indeed, they had disposed of but little: there he thought we could find
it, and there, next morning, we did.
But here was a complication. The nephew must be saved if possible, and
Mr. Perkins could not bear the exposure which would involve his niece
in disgrace, and we were nonplussed what to do.
We arranged, finally, that since the inmates of the house did not
_know_ for certainty that this teacher was the villain, that we would
let it go abroad that we had all been out, together with the teacher,
watching the villains; that the teacher had suffered a severe fall when
getting over a high fence, and that we had come home with him--all this
upon the condition that the avails of all his robberies should be
restored to the rightful parties, and that he should allow Mr. Perkins
to go and draw, on his order, all his money in a certain bank in
Cincinnati, where he said he had at the time twenty-eight hundred
dollars, which we found to be true; and that he should in the end
accompany me to Pittsburg, Pa., which he declared to be the theatre of
his first essays in crime, and where he said he was willing to deliver
himself up to the authorities for old offences; for he was as penitent
a man, in appearance, as I ever saw, and said he would rather go to
State's Prison for life, than be longer pursued by terrible temptations
to crime.
One of our party was left with him that night, armed, and bidden to
shoot him if he attempted to escape; and the rest went forth. We found
the place of deposit under the barn, removed everything therefrom to a
safe place, and next morning Mr. Perkins called on the young farmer,
took him out to the barn, and showed him my bull's-eye watch.
"Did you ever see that, sir."
"No," said the young man.
"No lies sir," said Mr. P----; "we are going to do you no harm. The
villain" (the music teacher) "has told us all about it. We have removed
the things from down there" (pointing to the place of deposit), "and
you are caught, beyond hope of escape."
The young man turned pale, fell over upon Mr. Perkins's breast, and
groaned out, "O God, that villain, as you call him, has ruined me! I
could not resist him; he dragged me along against my will. I have
suffered tortures of conscience. I cannot resist him! O, spare me!"
"Yes, yes," said P----, affected to tears by the young man's
sufferings, "I believe you. You have been under a spell. We will see
what can be done for you. As for myself, I forgive you."
That day there was a private conference of the discovering parties at
Mr. Perkins's house. The whole matter was discussed, and it was
concluded that the villain should suffer his just punishment in
Pennsylvania rather than in Ohio; that he should leave with "Dr.
Hudson," and be no more heard of there; that the young farmer should be
allowed to repent; and that so many of his relations, the committee-man
with the rest, should not be put to the disgrace of his public
punishment. He was sent for, and came; and a more harrowing case of an
accusing conscience than was his, imagination, in its wildest flights,
could hardly depict. I felt for him to the bottom of my soul. The
teacher, who was so watched that he could by no means escape, was sent
for too, and when he came, the poor young farmer looked at him with
bewildering horror. The whole matter was discussed before him, his
order duly made on the bank, and Mr. Perkins departed next day to draw
the money. Meanwhile it was arranged that the other property should all
be brought and deposited in Mr. Perkins's barn at night, with a note
accompanying it, that the robbers, having no use for it, wished it
distributed to those to whom it belonged; which, becoming known to the
villagers, there was a throng for hours at the barn next day, --one
recognizing and claiming this silver spoon,--some old watch--this watch
chain--that silver snuff-box (with the snuff and the veritable "bean"
in it), as the owner said, and so on and so on, together with a few
valuable books, all small articles, and many of them ladies' ornaments.
How they came to the barn, is, I suppose, a mystery still to the
villagers.
Mr. Perkins returned with the money, was paid back all that had been
robbed from him, and the teacher insisted that he should take a hundred
dollars more. The teacher paid his bills in town, being all the time
closely watched by some two of us, and the residue of the money was put
into my hands. A strict oath of eternal secrecy was taken by Perkins
and the other four gentlemen, on account of the penitent young farmer.
(I wish I dare to tell what has become of him, but it might lead to his
identification. Suffice it that he was, when I last heard about him,
only a year and a half ago, regarded as the finest and best young man
anywhere to be found. He had married a niece of Mr. Perkins, by the
way. And here, perhaps, I ought to say that "Perkins" is not the proper
name of my friend, but one I have used for convenience; for it would be
a wretched thing to do to give any clew to the young farmer's
identification.)
Finally, all being settled, the music teacher consenting to the
suggestion of the committee that I should be paid out of his funds one
thousand dollars, then and there, and I keeping the rest of his money,
we bade our friends good by, and started on our way to Pittsburg. I had
no trouble with the teacher on my way to Cincinnati (it was given out,
by the by, that he was going to study medicine with "Dr. Hudson"); but
when we arrived in Cincinnati I took him aside, told him he was my
prisoner, and that I would give him a disguise, so that he need not be
subject to shame in case we encountered, on our way, anybody he might
know; but that he must submit to be manacled in travelling with me
farther, for I feared he would escape. He consented to this.
I started with him from Cincinnati to Pittsburg, and arriving there,
placed him in charge of parties at the hotel where I stopped. He wanted
to write some letters, he said, and I let him do so. One of them was to
the lady he had left behind, Mr. Perkins's niece. The letters could not
go till the morning's mail, and I could not, of course, let those to
others than the young lady go without reading them myself, for they
might mean mischief. Intending to take proper legal proceedings the
next day, I had him placed in a small room leading out from my
sleeping-room, and without a door except that into my room, and with no
avenue for light, save a small window at the top, divested him of his
clothes, which I put back of my bed, and caused my door to be guarded
outside all night. I suppose I slept with unusual soundness, for I
heard not the slightest noise from his room. On awaking in the morning
I called to him. There was no answer; and I jumped out of bed, and went
into his room, only to find him hanging, cold and dead, from a clothes
peg in the side of the wall in the room! He had somehow managed to
strip a piece from a sheet without awakening me, rolled it into a small
rope, and hung himself by this peg. He proved himself a young man of
spirit in his last act; for his legs were bent up to keep his feet from
the floor--the rope being too long, or having stretched evidently.
Such was the end of the music teacher; and not the least interesting
fact touching him was, that he was from one of the first New England
families, well educated, expelled college in his second year for some
"romantic conduct" which bordered on crime, and was shunned by his
high-toned Puritanic relations,--mercilessly treated, in short,--and to
this fact, I conceive, may be attributed his downfall in part. Mercy
and forgiveness, bestowed at the proper time, are among the best
preventives of a course of crime once entered upon.
The music teacher's letters were never sent to their intended
destinations. That to the young lady was very kindly, telling her that
his love for her was an infatuation, from which he had broken away;
that they were not suited to live together after all; that she would
probably never hear from him again, for years at least (!), and that he
hoped her every joy. I did not think it best to forward it to her. She
married, in a year or two after his "desertion," to a fine man, so "Mr.
Perkins," when I last saw him, told me, and was very happy, and still
in blissful ignorance of the fate of the "heartless" but brilliant
music teacher, and finally brave (?) suicide.
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