The detective acted well his part, and attracted little
attention from the master of the "Nancy," until the latter,
for lack of something better to do, took a seat beside our
hero.
"On your way to the city?"
"Yes."
"Do you go there often?"
"No."
"You live at G-----?"
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"On the island."
"You live on the island?"
"Yes."
"I often go to the island; don't remember ever having seen
you."
"I've been off on a trip."
"A trip?"
"Yes."
"Where to?"
"Connecticut."
The master of the "Nancy" laughed, and said:
"Do you call that a trip?"
"Yes; I was away from the island two years."
"What's your name?"
The countryman looked the master of the "Nancy" all over,
winking knowingly, and said:
"You cannot come that over me!"
"Come what over you?"
"Oh, I'm no fool! I know how you Yorkers work the trains."
"You know how we Yorkers work the trains?"
"Yes."
"What do we work them for?"
"Suckers; but I'm no fool! You can't come any of your smart
games over me. I've lived a couple of years in Hartford; I'm
posted!"
"So you think I'm a Yorker?"
"Of coarse I do."
"What makes you think so?"
"You look like one."
"You're a smart Alec, my friend from Connecticut."
"Do you think so?"
"I reckon you think so yourself."
"Mebbe I do; and I'm too smart for you."
"I reckon you are."
"Yes, I am, as you'll find."
"I've found it out already."
"I reckon you have."
"Do you go clean through to the city?"
"Yes, I do."
"Where do you hang out?"
"I haven't made up my mind."
The pretended countryman assumed a very knowing look.
The master of the "Nancy" was amused; he thought he had struck
a character. Well, he had, but he had no idea of the real
character of the man; he thought he was joking for amusement.
"Were you ever 'nipped' by a Yorker my friend?"
"No siree, and I don't mean to be."
"So you live on the island?"
"Yes."
"And you won't tell me your name?"
"No, I won't."
"What harm would there be in telling your name?"
"You're too anxious to learn my name. What's your name?"
"My name is King."
"Your name is King, eh?"
"Yes."
"You live in York?"
"No, I don't."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"On the island."
"You live on the island?"
"Yes."
"Never heard of anyone by the name of King on the island."
"You never did?"
"Never."
"That's strange."
"No, it ain't strange, because no one by the name of King
ever lived there."
"Do you know a family by the name of Manuels?"
"See here, Mr. King, you can't pump me."
"I am not pumping you, I am only asking you civil questions."
"I am not answering civil questions to-day."
"Well, you are a crank."
"A what?"
"A crank."
"What's a crank?"
"A fool."
"You call me a fool?"
"Yes."
The detective rose to his feet, assumed a fierce expression
and retorted:
"You're another."
The master of the "Nancy" had expected an assault when the
countryman assumed such a threatening attitude, and was
compelled to laugh when the danger simmered down to a mere
retort.
Ike Denman was amusing himself, and so was the detective.
"I reckon I've met you before," said the disguised officer.
"You think you've met me before?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Can't recall just now, but the faint remembrance don't bring
me a pleasant feeling."
"You are a fool," exclaimed Denman, and rising from his seat
beside the disguised detective he walked to the other end of
the car.
At length the train ran into the depot at Brooklyn, and the
few passengers went aboard the boat that was to convey them to
the city.
The detective was a happy man. He had accomplished a big
feat, and little dreamed of the terrible discovery he was
destined to make later on.
Upon reaching the city, Denman started down town and entered a
building occupied by a foreign importing horse.
The detective was at his wit's end. He was anxious to
overhear what passed between the master of the "Nancy" and the
members of the firm. In a moment his decision was made, and
it was founded on a cunning line of reasoning.
Our hero entered the store just as the private office door
closed behind Denman.
A gentleman came forward and demanded the seeming countryman's
business, and the detective asked to see one of the members of
the firm, calling him by name, leaving learned the same from
the sign over the door.
"He is busy," was the answer.
That was just the answer the detective had expected, and it
was in anticipation of such an answer that he boldly walked in
and ventured the inquiry.
"When will he be at leisure?"
"It is hard to tell."
The clerk knew Denman and suspected that it was private and
important business that had brought the master of the "Nancy"
to New York.
"I wish to see him particularly."
"Cam I not attend to the business for Mr. M----?"
"No sir; I must see Mr. M---- personally."
"Can you call again?"
"I will wait."
"He may be engaged a long time."
"I cannot help it, I must see him to-day, and it does not
make much difference; I am in no hurry, I can wait as well as
not."
The clerk walked away and our hero edged toward the office
situated at the rear of the store, and seated himself upon a
case of goods, resting directly against the office partition.
A glass casing only separated the detective from the members
of the firm and the master of the "Nancy," and he could
overhear all that passed.
The clerk meantime was busy in the forward part of the store,
and paid no heed to the stupid-looking countryman.
Spencer Vance was well repaid for his risks. He overheard the
names of several firms, and got down facts which made it a
dead open and shut case.
At length he recognized that the conference was about reaching
a conclusion, and he came another sharp trick.