AN UNTIMELY OCCURRENCE--CALEB HOOK DISCOVERED.
"Hist--hist, Jerry Buck!" whispered Detective Hook as he slipped
through the door opened by the newsboy. "You are a smart lad--a bright
lad--to track those fellows as you have. I watched you do it, but,
having got them into close quarters, we must put our heads together and
find out what's going on in the room below."
Both Jerry Buck and the woman drew back in startled surprise.
The appearance of the detective thus unexpectedly, was, to judge from
the countenances of both, anything but welcome to them.
For the moment even the ready wit of the Bat seemed to desert him, and
he glanced from the face of the woman, who stood motionless behind the
stove with her foot covering the hole in the floor, to that of Caleb
Hook with an appearance of deep perplexity, not unmingled with fear.
"I don't know what you mean, mister. I----"
"Stop, Jerry. This is no time to lie. You know me well enough. Have you
forgotten the morning at the Catherine Market--my visit to the Bats in
the Wall?"
"Well, s'pose I hain't? What's that got to do with it? This here's a
private room. What call have you got to run your nose in here?"
"One moment, Jerry," said the detective, coolly pushing the boy aside
and advancing into the room.
"Madam, your most obedient," he continued, bowing respectfully to the
woman. "My name is Hook. I am a police detective and the best friend
Frank Mansfield has got. May I trouble you to tell me who and what you
are?"
The woman trembled before him.
A wild, hunted look overshadowed her face; her eyes wandered restlessly
about the room.
"I harm no one, sir," she murmured. "I only wish to be let alone that I
may complete the work of vengeance which I have begun against the man
who has brought so much misery to me and mine."
"Just so, madam, just so," answered Caleb Hook, soothingly. "You refer
to Mr. Callister, no doubt, who is now in the room below. I stand ready
to help you in your work if I can."
"But you are the detective who arrested my--Frank, I mean."
"I did, but I have stood his friend from that night until now. I am
anxious to help him and all belonging to him. Are you not the person
to whom I spoke at the Trinity church-yard wall on the night of the
arrest? Did you not tell me that Frank Mansfield was your son, and that
he robbed the Webster bank?"
"No, no, I was mistaken. I was mad!" exclaimed the woman, springing
forward wildly. "I have no son, he robbed no bank. Go away and leave me
alone."
"'Tain't no use to make him mad, missus," whispered the newsboy. "Frank
trusts him an' I guess the best thing will be for us to trust him too."
"You are right, Jerry," said the detective quietly. "Neither this good
lady nor yourself have anything to fear from me."
"Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! You can just bet your life the detective will
never get into this little racket--never in the world."
From the room below these words, accompanied by loud and boisterous
laughter, suddenly burst forth, the sound finding easy passage through
the uncovered stove pipe hole in the floor.
The effect upon the woman was electrical.
Advancing quickly toward Caleb Hook, she grasped him by the hand.
"That's his voice," she whispered wildly. "Help me to bring that man to
the hangman's scaffold and I'll fall down and bless you on my bended
knees. It is Elijah Callister that robbed me of my husband; it is he
who robbed me of my reason, and would have robbed me of my son. Oh, if
I could only trust you, sir! If I could only trust you! How can a weak
woman like myself, with no other help than that of this faithful boy,
hope to bring justice upon his sinful head alone."
"You may trust me fully, madam. I too have a grievance against Elijah
Callister. Will you help me to bring him into the grasp of the law
which he has so long defied?"
"Yes--yes! Let them hang him as high as Haman! Oh, that I could only
dance on his grave!"
She spoke wildly--excitedly. That her mind was far from clear was
plainly to be seen.
That she hated Elijah Callister with a deep and bitter hatred was
equally plain.
Caleb Hook, watching her closely, saw all this, and understanding that
his opportunity had come, proceeded to grasp it at once.
"Tell me what you know, and you shall do it!" he said, emphatically.
"I swear that your desire shall be fulfilled! Who and what is this
smooth-spoken Callister--that's what I want to know?"
"Who is he?" cried the woman. "He is a hypocrite, a liar, a murderer,
a thief! I have been watching him for weeks, and I know what I say is
true. He is the man who concocted the robbery at the Webster bank, and
tried to throw the crime upon my son."
"Ah! Then you are Mrs. Mansfield, the mother of Frank? I thought as
much from the first."
"Yes--yes; they locked me in an asylum, but I outwitted them and got
away, but too late to save my boy from harm. They drew the net around
him, but I will tear it off. I will live to see those wretches swing
for their crimes when Frank is rich and prosperous. I say it, sir, and
I mean it. God will grant a mother's prayer!"
She fumbled at her dress as she spoke these words, and producing a
package of greasy, worn papers, thrust them into the detective's hand.
"Read--read!" she exclaimed, her eyes darting to the right and left
more wildly than before. "I have written it all down for the world to
read when my work is done. But you, who love my boy, shall read it now."
"Say, mister, don't try to talk to her no more," whispered the boy,
pulling Hook slyly by the coat. "She always goes on like that when she
gets talking about these here things. It's my opinion she's a little
off."
"I'll read them carefully, and return them in due time, my dear lady,"
replied the detective, in a quiet tone, taking the hint. "What we have
to do now is to find out what's going on in the room below if we can.
It's my belief those fellows are up to no good."
"You can just bet your life on that, Mr. Hook," whispered the newsboy.
"They're concocting a scheme to rob the Lispenard bank. I caught on to
it through the hole. Just you come over here and listen for yerself.
Look a-here, missus, it's all right; you can just set down there and be
as quiet as you can. Him an' me'll attend to this here business alone."
Sinking into a chair, the woman, burying her face in her hands, began
muttering wildly to herself, while Jerry, taking the detective by the
arm, drew him toward the hole behind the stove.
"There, boss, just you put your ear down there," he whispered. "There's
a hull raft of them fellers down below, and them that busted the vault
of the Webster Bank's among 'em too. I seed 'em an' I know 'em. I was
a-tryin' fer to foller 'em up meself fer ter help her along"--he gave
a jerk with his thumb toward the woman behind them--"but since you've
dropped onto me an' are disposed to help, I'll just turn the hull
business over to you, fer you ought to understand it better nor me."
"Quite right, Jerry," whispered Hook, throwing himself flat upon his
stomach and bending over the hole in the floor, while the newsboy, less
clumsily, did the same.
Beneath, voices in earnest discussion could be plainly heard; the voice
of that pious and most excellent man, Mr. Callister, being prominent
above the rest.
"And so it's fixed for the day after to-morrow. We are to meet at
Cagney's at eleven o'clock, where I shall await your return from the
bank with a bigger haul, unless I'm greatly mistaken, than we ever made
before."
A look of triumph overspread the face of Caleb Hook as those words,
spoken in the voice of the stock-broker, fell upon his ear.
"Jerry!" he whispered, softly.
"Well, boss?"
"Run around to the Oak street station and tell Captain McGinty to send
me five of his best men without an instant's delay. Quiet now! Not a
particle of noise as you value your life."
"I'm fly, boss," whispered the boy, drawing himself cautiously into an
upright position.
As he did so his legs swept over the hole.
Crash! Bang!
A heavy body had fallen through the stove-pipe hole, into the room
below.
It was the iron stove-lifter, which a moment before had rested quietly
upon the floor by Jerry's side.
In his movement to rise the legs of the boy had come in contact with
it, sweeping it across the hole.
The intervening covering of thin paper was broken on the instant.
With a loud crash the stove-lifter, sweeping down through the opening,
had fallen like a bomb-shell into the midst of the men assembled in the
room below.
There was a sudden exclamation in the voice of Callister.
Then all was as silent as the grave.
Like a flash Caleb Hook was upon his feet.
"Take care of her, Jerry," he whispered. "Lock the door after me and
open to no one. I shall head them off at the front entrance. Great
C├Žsar! how unfortunate! But I'll clap the bracelets on that villain
Callister even if the rest escape."
He flung open the door and darted toward the stairs, Jerry Buck locking
it behind him as he passed.
Scarce had he descended half the flight connecting with the floor
below, when a door was suddenly flung open and four men sprang out into
the passage dimly illuminated by a single hanging lamp.
"There he is!" exclaimed one of the men--the smallest, in whom the
detective instantly recognized his companion on the force, Mr. Billy
Cutts--"there's the fellow who dropped us his card. Gentlemen, this is
my friend, Detective Hook. He has come to pay us an evening call!"