A GLAD MEETING.
The Reverend Mr. Withers expressed his pleasure in a hollow, sepulchral
tone at meeting the gentlemen.
Carlos replied rather stiffly.
Mr. Werner contemplated the proceedings curiously, yet courteously.
Mr. Duncan seemed struggling to suppress an exhibition of merriment.
In this he was not successful, for he soon burst into a fit of hearty
laughter.
Then it was that the Reverend Mr. Withers went through with a most
surprising performance. He seized Carlos by both shoulders, shook him
violently, and exclaimed:
“Don’t you know me, old boy?”
Carlos sprang back in amazement, and gazed at the speaker as if he
would look him through and through.
“Know you?” he faltered. “Your voice seems familiar.”
“Does it? I should think so. I’ll let you hear it again. Now do you
know me?”
A look of intelligence and gladness gradually crept over the face
of Carlos. He could not be mistaken; he was not. It was his cousin,
Leonard Lester.
The reader has already recognized the disguise in which Mr. Stark, the
detective in the Boston custom-house, had arrayed him.
The violent hand-shaking and extravagant ejaculations of joy which the
cousins indulged in, need not be here recorded.
When the first greetings were over, Carlos hastily informed Mr. Werner
who Leonard was, and explained his enthusiastic welcome of his
appearance.
Mr. Werner smiled brightly, and offered a brief congratulation.
“Where did you come from, Leonard, and what are you fixed up in this
ridiculous style for?” asked Carlos.
“I came from―――― Where _did_ I come from, Mr. Duncan?” appealed Leonard
to his employer.
“You will have to tell the whole story to answer that question,”
replied Mr. Duncan.
“I suppose I will. And though you have just heard it from my lips, I
suppose I must satisfy Carlos at once.”
“Certainly.”
“But first tell me why you are rigged out so outlandishly?” cried
Carlos.
“Outlandishly!” repeated Leonard, in a tone of mock reproach. “I
thought I presented a highly respectable appearance. But wait. I’ll
come to it in the course of my story. I will be very brief now, and
give only the main points. The details I will relate when we have more
time.”
It is not necessary to repeat Leonard’s story, as the reader knows it
already. It will be remembered that when we left him he had made the
journey from Boston to New York. We will take up the thread of his
narrative at that point.
Carlos had already apologized to Mr. Werner, saying:
“You will pardon us for speaking in English; we can talk more readily
and to the point. All shall be explained to you afterward.”
“I arrived in New York,” said Leonard, “about two hours ago――it is now
ten o’clock, I believe. I at once proceeded to Mr. Duncan’s house, and
requested to see him alone, giving my name as the Reverend Mr. Withers.
It is perhaps not surprising that he failed to recognize me at first,
but I soon made myself known. And, as he had already heard your story,
you are prepared to believe that he gave me rather a warm reception.
Well, I told my story. While I was telling it I saw he had something on
his mind that he was impatient to reveal, but you may judge that I was
unprepared for the first question he asked, which was ‘if I would like
to see my cousin Carlos?’ ‘Of course I would,’ I replied, not dreaming
what was to follow. But you know what followed. He brought me here, and
here I am. It is safe to say that nothing more surprising ever happened
during the whole course of my life. And now here we are, all together,
with business of the most important kind before us.”
“Yes, business of the most important kind,” repeated Mr. Duncan,
emphatically. And he muttered in an under-tone, half to himself: “And
I’ll wager that he’ll carry it through. I said it wasn’t easy to outwit
him.”
“After a good night’s rest we will proceed upon it in earnest,”
continued Leonard.
“After a good night’s rest!” exclaimed Carlos, who seemed anxious to do
something at once.
“Yes,” replied Leonard. “We all need it; or, at least, you and I do.
And there is nothing to be done to-night.”
The wisdom of this course was apparent, and was soon admitted by all.
“I suppose you are safe enough here,” said Leonard to Carlos. “I shall
go to a hotel. It will be prudent, perhaps, for you and I not to be
seen together, at all events until I have consulted with Mr. Stark.
What connection can you, a pupil of Mr. Werner, be supposed to have
with me, the Rev. Mr. Withers?”
“Just so,” said Mr. Duncan. “You are right.”
“And,” resumed Leonard, “I should like to stop where there is a
telegraph office near at hand.”
“There is a telegraph office in the United States Hotel,” said
Mr. Duncan.
“Very well, I will put up there. And now good-night, Carlos. I will see
you to-morrow, probably. _Gute nacht_, Herr Werner.”
They separated, Carlos remaining with Mr. Werner, Mr. Duncan going to
his own home, and Leonard proceeding to the United States Hotel.
The next day was Sunday, but, feeling that no time must be lost,
Leonard dispatched a message to Mr. Stark, early in the morning. It
bore the following cautious wording:
“MR. STARK, Custom House, Boston:
“The property is found.
“(Signed)
REV. MR. WITHERS.”
He had confidence that its meaning would be understood by Mr. Stark;
and he was not mistaken.
In an hour a reply came, which read as follows:
“REV. MR. WITHERS, U. S. Hotel, N. Y.:
“I will be with you to-day. Meet me at the place where I told you
to call.
STARK.”
Leonard estimated that Mr. Stark would have to make some preparations
before leaving Boston, and that he would reach New York in the evening,
on the same train that had brought “Rev. Mr. Withers” the night before.
So he was in no haste to show himself at the appointed place.
He passed most of the day in his room, reading the daily papers, and
reflecting on the matters in which he was so immediately concerned.
He reviewed the situation, formed plans to suggest to Mr. Stark, and
arranged his thoughts to be submitted to the detective in the most
concise manner possible. He sent a note to Carlos, informing him that
matters were progressing, but stating that he thought it not best to
call on him during the day.
In the latter part of the ♦afternoon he walked to No. ―――― Twelfth
street.
He was met at the door by a woman, who instantly smiled, and greeted
him cordially.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Withers! We will be glad to see you. Please walk
in.”
She was a comely woman, aged about forty years, rather portly, and had
a wholesome, shrewd-looking face. She was dressed in black.
Leonard evinced some surprise at her ready recognition of him, though
he remembered that Mr. Stark had predicted that he would be known.
The woman urged him not to delay going in, and as soon as he had
entered the hall, she closed the door and locked it.
“Mr. Stark sent you, of course,” she said. “You are to wait in this
room, and we are not to have any conversation with you until he comes.
Do you wish a lunch?”
“No, thank you. That is, not at present. I will wait until Mr. Stark
comes, and then we can take it together.”
“Very well. I hope you will pass the time pleasantly. There are books
and papers.”
Leonard had been shown into a room adjoining the hall, and here the
woman left him alone. He reflected, with wonder and admiration, on
Mr. Stark’s system of arrangements, and patiently awaited the arrival
of the detective.
The latter made his appearance shortly after eight o’clock. After brief
greetings, a lunch was brought in, and the two were left together.
“You say you have found him,” said Mr. Stark, immediately entering on
the business in hand.
“Yes; he is staying with a musician named Werner, not a great distance
from here――perhaps ten minutes’ walk.”
“How did he escape?”
Leonard related briefly the adventures of Carlos.
Mr. Stark made no comment.
“What steps have you taken?” asked Leonard.
“None, except to advertise the yacht.”
“Have you much confidence that the owner will put in an appearance?”
“We must wait and see,” was the non-committal answer.
“Some measures ought to be put in operation at once.”
“Undoubtedly. Have you anything to suggest?”
“Yes,” replied Leonard, after some deliberation. “This Snags, of whom I
told you, will probably take alarm at my flight and get out of the way.
Besides, as I further mentioned, he and Roake are probably the tools of
others whom they would not betray. So it is desirable to do something
more than merely arrest them, and seize the smuggled goods――even if the
former could be accomplished.”
“Go on,” said Mr. Stark, as Leonard paused.
“This deaf and dumb fellow who attends to the boats at Rocky Beach
is evidently in the employ of the villains, and he is a poor ignorant
devil. My idea is that they have got possession of him in some way, and
impressed him with the belief that he is in a sense their property. He
has a hang-dog look, like one without ambition, or at least without the
knowledge that there is any possibility of changing his condition. Yet
there is a discontented expression about his face, and he has a bright
eye, and not a bad head.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Stark, as Leonard again paused.
“Well,” resumed Leonard, “if we could get possession of him, and cheer
him up, and make him believe he is somebody, perhaps he could impart
some valuable information. He must be possessed of some. And there
would be no use in pumping him where he is, for I believe he stands in
a sort of terror of his masters.”
“Can he talk in any way, either by the dumb signs or by writing?”
“That I don’t know.”
“The experiment may be worth trying. We will consider it. And now I
have something to propose. Has your cousin plenty of nerve?”
“Yes,” replied Leonard, smiling, “when he is set on in the right way.”
“What can he do?”
“In the way of business do you mean? Not much, I am afraid. His father
brought him up very indulgently. But he is a good musician.”
“Just the thing. We’ll fix him up as a young Dutchman. I believe you
said he spoke the language?”
“Like a native.”
“We’ll send him to Dalton as a music teacher, and let him take
observations.”
Leonard was not prepared for this novel proposition, and he considered
a moment before replying.
“Do you think it would be safe?” he asked.
“Yes, if he has a respectable amount of tact. Can’t you take me to him?”
“Yes. As I said, it is only a short walk to where he is stopping.”
“Then come on.”
So Leonard and Mr. Stark started out and turned their steps in the
direction of Mr. Werner’s place of abode.