TWO IMPORTANT AND INTERESTING CHARACTERS.
"What's the matter?" asked George Morgan, wonderingly.
"It strikes me," replied Old Spicer, "that there must be some other
means of entrance and exit to this sub-cellar known to and controlled
by the frequenters of the great vault."
"What makes you think so?"
"Look up there. What do you see?"
"Why, the coal-hole and its iron cover."
"Is the cover fastened over the hole?"
"Certainly."
"If any one has gone out by that way lately could they have fastened
down the cover after them as we see it now?"
"Of course not."
"If any one expects to visit the great vault to-night, for instance,
could they do so by way of this coal-hole?"
"Certainly not."
"Then isn't it evident that there must be some other way to reach the
sub-cellar known to the frequenters of the vault?"
"It would seem so. And yet, if no one has visited the place since the
murder the thing is easily explained."
"How do you explain it?"
"Why, the murderers possibly entered through this coal-hole, and
fastened the cover after them. If so, they went on to Margaret Ernst's
basement, through the vault and the other tunnel. They killed the old
woman, and, as a blind, filled up the entrance to the tunnel with
ashes, which they found close by, and then escaped, probably through
her back-yard."
"That's all very well so far as it goes, George; but, unfortunately for
your theory, some one has visited that vault since the murder, and they
have neither entered nor departed through Mrs. Ernst's basement."
"Thunder! how do you know that?"
"By means of a piece of to-day's newspaper, which I picked up in the
vault."
"Well, sir, you've got me this time, sure."
"You admit, then, that there must be another entrance from this side?"
"Of course."
"Let us find it, then."
"I'm with you, sir," and the search began.
It lasted close on to half an hour, when Old Spicer suddenly uttered a
low exclamation of satisfaction, and Morgan at once knew he had found
what he was looking for.
He at once joined the old detective, who silently pointed to a dark
opening in the front foundation wall, below the level of the cellar
bottom, and partially concealed by some empty barrels.
"What is it?" asked George, eagerly.
"Don't you understand?"
"By Jove, I do not."
"Well," said Old Spicer, "I can see it all as plain as day. That
opening leads into an abandoned sewer, which is connected with a
catch-basin at the next corner, where, undoubtedly, there is a ladder,
or iron spikes are driven into the walls, by means of which those
making use of this peculiar passage, enter the cellar, or reach the
street."
"By thunder! this is a shrewder thing than the other."
"That's a fact; but unless we are driven to it, I prefer to use the
other exit."
"So do I."
"Well, now that we know exactly how the land lies, let us return to the
vault."
"All right, sir," and they hastened back.
On crawling out from under the table that concealed the trap, they
began a regular and systematic search of the place. Not a bunk, not a
drawer, not a box, not a corner was neglected, and before the search
was well over, Old Spicer was abundantly satisfied with his success.
He had found several bits of evidence that were likely to prove
important in more than one great criminal case; and behind a tier
of bunks he found a door leading into a smaller vault, originally
intended, no doubt, for the storage of liquors, but which for some time
had been abandoned, and possibly forgotten.
"Ah!" exclaimed Old Spicer, as he surveyed the smaller vault, "this may
prove useful, George, before very long."
"I don't see how," replied the younger detective, in a tone of surprise.
"If I am not very much mistaken, you will see, and that very soon.
Hark!"
Morgan listened and distinctly heard the sound of footsteps in the
tunnel leading from York Street.
"Go in there," whispered Old Spicer, pointing toward the smaller vault.
Then, hastily closing the trap-door under the table, he squeezed his
way behind the tier of bunks, moved them back to their place, and
joined George in the inner vault, leaving the door slightly ajar, and
so was prepared to both see and listen.
Hardly were his preparations completed, when the trap-door under the
table was raised up and a man, of no very prepossessing appearance,
showed his head.
No sooner had he crawled out from under the table than another and
younger man appeared.
"Shust help me out, Parney," said this last. "I've got my goat caught
mit this hook here."
Barney unhooked his companion's coat and helped him to his feet.
"You thundering fool," he growled, "why will you persist in wearing
that great, heavy, conspicuous-looking coat at all times and seasons of
the year? It will get you into some cursed trouble yet."
"Ah, my tear Parney, dot vos a goot goats--it vos a perfect goats;
shust think uf all der bockets, und vot er lot uf shwag I vos able ter
garry avay mit 'em."
"Well, well, I see you're stuck on the blamed coat, and so I'll say no
more about the outlandish-looking thing just now. But come, sit down
there, and let's get to business."
"Vate a minute, Parney. Let's make sure der bolice hain't struck
der blace since ve vos here," and the young Hebrew picked up the
dark-lantern Barney had placed on the table, and disappeared in the
tunnel, in the direction of the Ernst basement.
He was gone some minutes. When he returned he exclaimed, somewhat
excitedly:
"So 'elp me gracious, Parney, dere vos somepody peen in der tunnels
since ve vos 'ere pefore!"
"How do you know that, Jake?"
"Dot ashes; you remember?"
"Yes."
"Vell, it vos kicked apout like anything."
"Hum! then they've found the trap-door for certain; but they may not
have come very far into the tunnel."
"Dey vos comed a leetle vays anyhow; I see der tracks."
"The deuce you say! Then they may come further next time."
"Dot's vot I vos dinking, Parney."
"Well, it isn't at all likely they'll come to-night, so let's get ahead
with our business and then dig out."
"All right. You got somedings to trink, Parney? I don't feel shust
right."
"Confound you, Jake Klinghammer, you are always sponging on
somebody--if you can. Where's that flask of whisky I saw you take from
behind McCarthy's bar to-night?"
"I didn't dake no vhisky at McCarthy's, Parney. I didn't, so 'elp me
gracious."
"Well, you took something. What was it?"
"Oh! I remember now, Parney. It vos shust a leetle drop uv
prandy--nodding more. I bledge you my word."
"By heavens, Jake, you're a pretty fellow."
"Dot vos vot my girl dinks."
"She's an excellent judge, no doubt."
"You shust pet she vos, Parney."
"Well, pass the brandy, and let me see if it is fit for a gentleman to
drink. If it is, I may be induced to take some."
"All right, I give you a daste," said Jake, handing him the flask. "I
vosn't so mean as you, Parney."
"Oh! you ain't, eh? Well, that's all right. Here's good luck to your
_liberal_ soul," and placing the flask to his lips, he poured about
half its contents down his throat.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, as he set down the flask, "that's pretty good; must
be some of McCarthy's best. Better get some more of it when you're
there again. Don't forget, Jake."
"So 'elp me gracious, Parney, dot vos an awful cheek you've got."
"Think so?"
"Think so!" echoed Jake, as he put up the half-emptied flask. "Holy
Moses! if I have dot cheek, I vos rich. I vould always have blenty ov
'prass' apout me, you see--ha! ha!"
"Well, I admit it has been of some service to me, and I fancy it will
assist me through the remainder of my life--to a considerable extent."
"Dere vos no doubt of dot, you pet."
"Not much, I guess. But then, you know, Jake, I need a little cheek to
travel with you!"
"By Father Abraham!" muttered Jake, meaningly, "I pet you need
somedings after this, my poy, so it vas pest you look out."
"What are you growling about now?" demanded Barney, sharply.
"Noddings, Parney--shust noddings at all. Now vot you got to told me
apout dot leetle schob down pelow?"
"A good deal, so prepare yourself to listen."
"Vill it dake a goot vhile, Parney?"
"Some little time. Why?"
"Pecause, I vosn't anxious to stay in this hole any longer than vos
necessary."
"Well, the fact is, in order to act intelligently in the future, you
have got to know exactly how matters stand at present."
"Dot fellow vos dead fast enough, eh?"
"Great Cæsar! yes."
"Und I subbose dot rich young duffer vos ready to bay vot he agreed
like an honest man, eh?"
"Of course."
"Vell, vhat more do I vont to know apout it, then?"
"A good deal--if you have any desire to keep your neck from a hempen
collar."
"Holy Moses! vhat do you mean, Parney, my tear poy?"
"Listen quietly, and I will tell you."
"Go on, Parney, I will pe dumb."