shock was too much for Drysdale, and he fainted away instantly. It was
sometime before he revived, but finally, he was able to talk again.
"Please take the wrapper off those papers," he said feebly, "and put
them into another. They are copies of papers in a law case now in court,
and I would not like them to go out in that condition."
Andrews agreed to fix them all neat and clean before sending them, and
he then went out to attend to it. On his way down town, he met Mr.
McGregor, to whom he related what he had done, and its effect.
"Mr. McGregor," he continued, "I think it would be a good idea to
sprinkle some blood in the bank, on the floor, and on the desk, where
young Gordon used to stand; also, to put some blood and hair on the
canceling hammer. Do this in the evening, and arrange to have some one
enter the bank with you in the morning; then, the story will be
circulated until Drysdale will hear it, and it may have a powerful
effect upon him. I think Mr. Pinkerton would approve the plan, if he
were here."
Mr. McGregor thought favorably of the suggestion, and he agreed to act
upon it, as soon as possible. Andrews then went back to Drysdale's
office, wiped up the blood spots, and put Captain Rowland's papers into
a new wrapper. Having sent them off, he returned and passed the
afternoon with Drysdale.
The latter was in a terrible condition; he seemed like a man suffering
from hydrophobia, so sensitive were his nerves, and so depressed was his
mind. His thoughts could turn in only one direction, and that was toward
remorse and fear.
"'Tis guilt alone,
Like brain sick frenzy in its feverish mood.
Fills the light air with visionary terrors
And shapeless forms of fear."
Through advices from Andrews, I was aware that things were approaching a
crisis, and I therefore, went immediately to Atkinson, in order to be
ready for any emergency. I arrived there the very morning chosen by Mr.
McGregor, to carry out his project of sprinkling blood at the bank. He
had arranged, by apparent accident, to have two planters enter the bank
with him, and in fact, it happened that four gentlemen were present at
ten o'clock when he opened the bank. They all entered together, and
when Mr. McGregor had taken down the blinds, he went inside the bank
railing. As he did so, he uttered a sudden exclamation, which caused the
others to follow.
"What can this mean!" he said, in an excited tone.
The other gentlemen gathered around the ghastly scene and examined the
blood, which lay in a pool on the floor, and in spots on the furniture
and wall. The canceling hammer, stained with blood, and clotted with
hair, lay close by, and every one was reminded of the appearance of the
place, the morning after George Gordon's murder.
"What can have happened?" asked old Mr. Gordon, who had just entered.
"Surely, no one was murdered here last night."
"Ah! I fear it is done by poor George's spirit!" exclaimed O'Fallon, who
was a very superstitious man. "This looks just as it did that fatal
morning, except that the body is not here. His spirit must be uneasy at
the failure to discover his murderer."
By this time, Flanders and several others, had entered the bank, and the
appearance of things there, was soon circulated throughout the town. The
excitement about the murder, was revived in all its original importance,
and many were the speculations about the mysterious affair.
Drysdale felt rather strong that morning, and about noon, he walked down
to his gate. While there, some of his neighbors passed on their way to
their homes, and they were all anxious to tell him about the new
sensation at the bank. On hearing the news, Drysdale dragged himself
into the house and went to bed. There he lay, groaning and sobbing
piteously, and when Andrews called in the afternoon, he was so helpless
that Andrews insisted on calling a physician. In a short time he
returned with Dr. Sprague, who examined the patient, and prescribed for
him. Dr. Sprague said that Drysdale would speedily recover with a proper
amount of rest and sleep. Wakefulness and nervous irritation seemed to
be the trouble with him, and the doctor told Andrews that he had
prescribed morphine. He said that there was nothing serious to fear
unless fever should set in, and if any symptoms should show themselves
it would be necessary to call him immediately.
Upon leaving Drysdale, Andrews came to me to report. I had arranged with
Mr. McGregor, to pay a visit to the creek that night, to search the spot
which had been visited so often by Drysdale. I therefore sent Andrews
back to offer to remain with Drysdale during the night. This arrangement
pleased Drysdale very much, and he was quite touched by Andrews'
kindness. I also instructed Green to watch Drysdale's house, so as to be
ready to appear before Drysdale, in case the latter left his house. He
was to cross and re-cross Drysdale's path, until Drysdale should take
notice of him, while Andrews was to be at hand immediately, pretending
that he had fallen asleep during his watch, and on waking up suddenly
and finding Drysdale gone, had come out in search of him.
I told Mr. Bannatine and Mr. McGregor, to bring a wheelbarrow, pick-axe,
and large shovel with them, since we should probably need the two latter
to dig up the gold, while the wheelbarrow would be handy to carry it
home. Everything was provided for in advance, and I felt confident of
the success of our expedition.
_CHAPTER IX._
The night was clear and bright, and everything was favorable for our
work. At twelve o'clock, we met as previously agreed, and hastened to
the banks of Rocky Creek, at the spot which Green had pointed out to me
that day. On reaching the designated place, I threw off my coat and
waded into the creek. I soon found a large flat stone, which I removed
to one side. I was just beginning to dig under it, when Green hurried up
and told me that Drysdale had left the house, and that he was only a
short distance behind. We quickly hid ourselves in the underbrush, and
in a few moments Drysdale appeared. Green passed him back and forth,
several times, but Drysdale paid no attention to him whatever. Suddenly
the thought flashed upon me, that he was walking in his sleep, and I
soon saw that such was the case. All of his midnight promenades were now
accounted for, and it was not strange that he had not noticed Green. So
great was the man's anxiety and nervous dread of discovery, that he
could not rest in quiet, and he was forced to visit the spot where his
blood-stained treasure was concealed, even in his hours of repose.
He now waded into the creek, as before, but he remained a much longer
time than usual, as he was unable to find the large flat stone in its
accustomed spot. Finally, he discovered where I had thrown it, and he
immediately replaced it in the very hole whence I had taken it. He then
returned to the house, and went to bed.
I again removed the stone, and while Mr. McGregor handled the pick-axe,
I plied the shovel vigorously. In a very few minutes, we struck a piece
of wood which gave back a hollow sound. This encouraged us to renewed
activity, and we were richly rewarded by unearthing a large cheese-box,
whose weight gave ample proof of the value of its contents. Having
replaced the flat stone where we first found it, we put the box on the
wheelbarrow, and took turns in wheeling it to the bank, where we soon
broke it open and discovered, as we had expected, that it was full of
gold coin in rouleaux. The counting of this large sum of money was
rather tedious, but it was finally accomplished satisfactorily, and the
result showed that only eighty dollars were missing.
The officers of the bank were in high glee, and they asked me whether I
had any hope of recovering the paper money.
"If I am not mistaken," I replied, "I shall find the paper money also,
within twenty-four hours. I shall go to Drysdale's plantation to-morrow
night, and shall search the ground in that group of trees of which you
have already heard so much. I think we shall find there all the paper
money."
The next day, Drysdale and Andrews remained together constantly; indeed,
Drysdale did not seem willing to let Andrews leave his sight for a
moment. He was perfectly helpless and inert. In the evening, I met my
companions of the night previous, and we drove out to Drysdale's
plantation, taking along the necessary tools. We secured our horses in
the grove, and then Green led the way toward the spot where Drysdale had
examined the ground. On making a close examination with our dark
lanterns, we discovered a piece of sod which had evidently been taken
up, for the edges had not yet joined with the surrounding turf. We
quickly pulled it up and began to dig beneath it; as before, our search
was rewarded after a few minutes of labor. At the depth of two feet, we
came upon a large candle-box, which we carefully dug up and placed in
one of our buggies. There was apparently, nothing more concealed in this
spot, and so we replaced the earth, packed it down, and put the piece of
sod back into its place. We then returned to Atkinson, where we arrived
just before daylight. The bank officers immediately opened the box, and
counted the paper money contained therein; it was found to agree
exactly, with the sum stolen from the bank. The packages of bills were
replaced in the box, which was then locked up in the vault.
I sent instructions by Andrews to Mrs. Potter to again make use of the
blood about Drysdale's house, and I also ordered Green to keep watch
during the night. The next morning Andrews reported that Drysdale's
terror on discovering the blood had been greater than he had ever shown
before, and that he was fast breaking down. I therefore held a
consultation with the bank officers.
"Now, gentlemen," I said, "we have recovered the money, and we have
sufficient evidence to convict the murderer. I think it is time to
arrest him; don't you?"
To tell the truth, I was in no easy frame of mind myself. I was morally
sure of Drysdale's guilt, but I had no legal evidence which was
sufficient to convict him in case he should maintain his innocence.
Moreover I had assumed a terrible responsibility in taking such extreme
measures with him, for there was danger that he might go insane without
confessing his guilt, and in that case my position would have been
really dangerous. I should have been accused of driving him crazy with
no proper justification for my actions, and the result might have been
most disastrous to me. The fact that I, an unknown man from the North,
had driven a high-toned Southern gentleman insane, would have been
sufficient to hang me by the summary process of lynch law.
The fact that part of the money had been found on his plantation, would
be only circumstantial evidence, since another man might have buried it
there as well as Drysdale. His visits to the spots where the money was
concealed, were not conclusive of guilt, since he was a somnambulist,
and in his sleep-walking he was not responsible for his actions. Mrs.
Potter suggested to me that he might have been sleep-walking the night
of the murder, and (while in that condition,) he might have followed the
murderer to the spot where the gold was hidden; it would then be nothing
strange that he should go to the same spot in his subsequent
night-wanderings.
It will thus be easily understood that during the remainder of my
connection with the case, I was in a highly wrought up frame of mind.
Indeed, when I came to make the arrest, it would have been hard to tell
whether Drysdale or I was the more excited. In reply to my question,
Mr. Bannatine instructed me to take whatever course I saw fit, as they
were all perfectly satisfied with my management of the affair. I learned
from Andrews that Drysdale would visit his office that afternoon, as
there were some important matters requiring his attention. Drysdale had
told Andrews that he intended to put the office in the charge of a
deputy for a time, so as to enable him to go off to New Orleans on a
visit of several weeks, and he desired that Andrews should accompany
him. He little thought that the toils were closing around him so
rapidly, and that he should never start on his projected excursion.
Having decided to arrest him immediately, I went to the office of an old
friend of Mr. Bannatine, a lawyer, who drew up the necessary affidavit
upon which I proposed to apply for a warrant. I then called upon the
sheriff, and asked him to go before a justice of the peace with me,
while I swore to an affidavit for a warrant which I wished him to
execute.
"What is the warrant for?" asked the sheriff, as he walked along with
me.
"It is quite an important case," I replied, "and I have had the
affidavits drawn up by Mr. Wood, the lawyer, and you will see the charge
in a few minutes."
"All right," said the sheriff; "let us go to Squire Baker's."
Fortunately we found the justice alone, and having stated that I wished
to obtain a warrant, I handed him the affidavit which I had had
prepared. He carefully adjusted his glasses and began to read the paper,
but in a moment or two he gave a sudden start and dropped the document,
in utter amazement. He looked at me keenly and said:
"Do you mean to accuse Mr. Drysdale of murdering George Gordon?"
At this the sheriff was equally astonished, and he said:
"Oh! nonsense; it can't be possible. Why, do you know, my dear sir, that
he is one of the finest gentlemen, and one of the most honorable men in
Atkinson? Surely you are joking."
"No, I am not joking at all," I replied. "I knew, of course, that you
would be greatly surprised and shocked, but the proofs are too clear to
admit of any doubt. The matter has been carefully examined by Mr.
Bannatine, Mr. Gordon, and Mr. McGregor, and it is at their request that
I have come to get a warrant. However, I can soon convince you of his
guilt."
"Well, well, it is almost incredible," said Squire Baker, "but if Mr.
Bannatine and Mr. McGregor are convinced, I presume there must be strong
grounds for suspicion, for they are both very careful men. I certainly
hope, however, that it may prove to have been a mistake, and that Mr.
Drysdale will be able to show his innocence."
I then made oath to the facts, and the warrant was issued. The sheriff
asked me when he should make the arrest, and I told him that Drysdale
was then at his office, and he must be taken at once. We accordingly,
went straight to his office, where we found him with Andrews. As the
sheriff entered, Drysdale said:
"How do you do, Mr. Ringwood? Take a chair."
"No, I thank you, Mr. Drysdale," said the sheriff in a sympathetic tone;
"the fact is, I am here on a very unpleasant duty, and I cannot stay
long. I have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Drysdale."
"Warrant for me! what for?" exclaimed Drysdale, huskily.
"It is for the murder of George Gordon," replied the sheriff.
"Who charges me? I----"
Drysdale could only shriek the above, ere he fell back into a chair
almost lifeless. In a few minutes, he recovered somewhat, and the
sheriff said:
"Mr. Pinkerton here, has made an affidavit to the charge, and he seems
to be acquainted with the grounds for accusing you; suppose you walk
down to the bank with us."
Drysdale gazed at me steadily for a moment, and then said:
"Let me look at the warrant."
He was trembling like an aspen leaf, while he was reading it, and when
he had finished, he expressed a willingness to go with us, if Andrews
would go too. It was now after banking hours, and the bank was closed,
but the officers admitted us. After the door had been closed, I turned
to Drysdale and said:
"I have the unpleasant duty, Mr. Drysdale, of charging you with the
murder of George Gordon, in this bank; have you any denial to make?"
This was the signal to Green, and as I finished speaking, he passed from
behind the desk, where he had been seated, across the spot where
Gordon's body had fallen. He was made up exactly like Gordon, as on
previous occasions, and though he was in sight only a second, it was
enough. Drysdale gave a shriek, and fell lifeless, as the apparent ghost
disappeared in the vault. It was done so quickly, that even the sheriff
was puzzled to determine what the apparition was. Restoratives were
applied, and Drysdale soon revived.
"Great God!" he exclaimed. "Where is George Gordon? I am sure he was
here. Did you see him, Andrews?"
No one answered, and seeing that we were all looking at him in
amazement, he sprang to his feet, exclaiming:
"I deny the charge you have made against me; it is false in every
particular."
"Then, Mr. Drysdale," said I, "you will probably deny that you buried
the gold, which was taken from this bank, in the bed of Rocky Creek.
Here it is," I added, uncovering the box, which had been placed near by.
He said nothing, but hung his head, and drew a long breath.
"Will you also deny that you buried the paper money in a grove near your
house, on your plantation?" I continued, showing him the candle box.
He still said nothing, and I made a motion to Andrews to have Green
ready for a re-appearance. Then I went on speaking.
"This money has all been identified as that which was stolen from the
bank; it was found as I have stated. I also have here a partly burned
note of yours, which you used to light the fire in the grate. I have
examined these fragments of buttons, and I find that they are exactly
like those on the coat which you brought home from New Orleans just
before the murder; they were found in the grate yonder, where you burned
your coat, but there is enough left of them to identify them. But if you
are not satisfied with this evidence, that we can prove you are guilty,
I will even call upon the murdered man himself, to testify against you."
As I spoke, Green slowly glided out toward us, with his white, set face,
and bloody hair. Drysdale covered his face with his hands, dropped into
a chair and shrieked:
"Oh! my God! I am guilty! I am guilty!" and he sank back, but did not
faint.
Green instantly retired, whence he came, and Drysdale continued
speaking, as if he obtained relief by confessing his crime.
"Yes, I am guilty, and I have suffered the tortures of the damned since
that frightful night. I do not know what made me do it, but I have never
known a moment's peace since then. My mind has been occupied with that
money constantly, and even in my sleep I would dream about it. Oh! it is
terrible!"
"Have you ever gone to look for it at night, Mr. Drysdale?" I asked, as
I wished to know whether he was aware of his somnambulism.
"Oh, no; I would not dare to go near it, but it has haunted me always."
"How did you come to murder George?" I asked.
"I can't tell," he replied, in a choking voice; "it all occurred like a
dream."
"What motive did you have? You surely could have got money without
resorting to robbery, much less murder."
"No, I could not. People think I am wealthy, but the fact is I lost a
great deal of money in speculating when I went to New Orleans, a few
months before the murder, and although I have a good deal of property, I
had no ready money, and I could not work my plantation properly for want
of it. I had purchased seven slaves from a man in New Orleans, and I
could not pay for them. He was pressing me for the money, about twelve
hundred dollars, and I came down to the bank to get the money from
George. I had only three hundred dollars in bank, and so I gave my note
for the remainder. While George was counting out the money, I was taken
with a sort of insanity, and I struck him with a large hammer which
happened to be at hand. Then I carried off the money and buried it,
since which time I have never touched it. It has been a curse to me.
This is all I have to say now."
I turned to Mr. Bannatine and said:
"I have now done all that I can do in this matter, I think."
"Yes, you have completed your task, and the law must now take its
course," he replied. "Mr. Ringwood, you had better take charge of Mr.
Drysdale."
Drysdale rose from his chair, wearily, and said:
"I am glad the end has come at last. This affair has been killing me by
inches, and I am glad I have confessed."
The sheriff then touched him on the shoulder and said that he must go.
"Yes, I am ready," he replied, "but please let me speak a few words
privately, to Mr. Andrews; I want to send a message to my wife," he
added, with a sob.
He and Andrews then stepped into the small private office, and Andrews
closed the door behind him.
"Andrews, my friend," said Drysdale, convulsively, "I beg you to break
this news to my poor wife. God help her and the children. Tell her that
I feel better for having confessed, and whatever happens she must keep
up her courage. Now, my dear friend, good bye. Tell the sheriff to come
here and take me to jail."
He wrung Andrews' hand warmly as the latter stepped to the door, but
before the latter had reached us, we heard the ringing report of a
pistol shot. We made a simultaneous rush for the little room, but we
were too late. There, quivering on the floor, with a bullet in his
brain, lay the murderer of George Gordon. The crime and the avengement
had occurred in the same building, only a few feet separating the spot
where the two bodies had fallen. The somnambulist had walked on earth
for the last time.
THE END.
THE MURDERER AND THE FORTUNE TELLER.
_CHAPTER I._
One sultry day in the summer of 185-, I arrived in Chicago, from a tour
I had been making through the Southern States. I had attended to a
portion of the accumulated business which I found awaiting me, when a
gentleman entered the outer office and asked one of my clerks whether he
could see me immediately on some very important business. Mr. Howard saw
by the gentleman's appearance, that the matter must be one of great
consequence, and, therefore, ushered the visitor into my private office,
without asking any questions.
"Mr. Pinkerton, I believe?" said the gentleman, as he advanced toward
me.
"Yes, sir," I replied; "what can I do for you?"
He took a letter from his pocket and handed it to me. I motioned him to
be seated, while I read the letter. I found it to be from my old friend
Chapman, a lawyer in New Haven, Connecticut, introducing the bearer,
Captain J. N. Sumner. The letter stated that Captain Sumner was a
resident of Springfield, Massachusetts, near which place he owned a
farm. He had a moderate fortune, and he was a most estimable man. Mr.
Chapman had known him for many years, during which time he had always
borne himself in an upright, straightforward manner, free from all
reproach. Lately, however, he had become involved in some very serious
difficulties in the West, and Mr. Chapman had advised him to see me, and
obtain my assistance in extricating himself from his troubles. Mr.
Chapman concluded by saying, that he was confident, that, if any one
could aid the Captain, I was the best person to consult.
I had not seen Mr. Chapman for some years, the last time having been
while I was attending to some business in which he was interested. He
was especially noted as a criminal lawyer being employed quite as often
for the prosecution, as for the defense. We were the best of friends,
and had cracked many a joke at each other's expense. He did not mention
the nature of the Captain's troubles in his letters, leaving that for
the Captain to do himself.
While I was reading the letter, I was aware that the Captain was
observing me closely, as if desirous of reading my very thoughts. When I
had finished, I said:
"Captain Sumner, I am glad to meet you. Any one bearing a letter from my
old friend Chapman, is welcome."
As I spoke, I looked straight at him, and took in his whole appearance.