Out of a Labyrinth Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  CHARTERING A DUMMY.

  By the time I reached the city my arm, which needed fresh bandages,began to pain me, and I went straight to the office of a surgeon,well-known to fame, and to the detective service. He had bound up many abroken bone for our office, and we of the fraternity called him "OurSamaritan." Some of the boys, and, let me confess it, myself among thenumber, called him "Our old woman," as well, for, while he bandaged andhealed and prescribed, he waged continued warfare upon our profession,or rather the dangers of it.

  Of course, the country needed secret service men, and must have them,but there was an especial reason why each one of us should not be adetective. We were too young, or too old; we were too reckless, or wewere cut out for some other career. In short, every patient that cameunder the hand of good Dr. Denham, became straightway an object ofinterest to his kindly old heart; and--strange weakness in a man of hiscloth--he desired to keep us out of danger.

  "So ho!" cried "our old woman," when I appeared before him with mybandaged arm, "here _you_ are! I knew you'd be along soon. You've keptout of my clutches a good while. Arm, eh? Glad of it! I'll cut it off;I'll cut it off! That'll spoil _one_ detective."

  I laughed. We always laughed at the talkative soul, and he expected it.

  "Cut it off, then," I retorted, flinging myself down in a chair andbeginning to remove my sling. "I don't need a left arm to shoot thefellow that gave me this, and I'm bound to do that, you know."

  "So! Got shot again? Go on, go on, sir! I'll have the pleasure ofdissecting you yet. You'll come home dead some day, you scoundrel. Ah!here we are. Um! flesh wound, rear of arm, under side; close, prettyclose, pret-ty close, sir!"

  "So! Got shot again? Go on, go on, sir! I'll have thepleasure of dissecting you yet."--page 43.]

  All this was jerked out in short breaths, while he was undoing andtaking a first look at my arm. When the actual business of dressingcommenced, "our old woman" was always silent and very intent upon thedelicate task.

  "Pity it wasn't a little worse," he sniffled, moving across the room andopening a case of instruments. "You chaps get off too easy; you don'tcome quite near enough to Death's door. There's Carnes, now; got a knifethrough his shoulder, and fretting and fuming because he can't puthimself in a position to get another dig."

  "Is Carnes in?"

  "Yes. And was badly cut."

  "Poor fellow! I'm sorry for that, but glad of the chance to see him;he's been on a long cruise."

  "Well, I'm not so sure about his going on another. Now then."

  And the doctor applied himself to business, and I sat, wincingsometimes, under his hand, but thinking through it all of Carnes.

  He was the _comique_ of the force; a man who was either loved or hatedby all who knew him. No one could be simply indifferent to Carnes. Hewas a well-educated man, although he habitually spoke with a brogue. ButI knew Carnes was not an Irishman; although he professed to have "hailedfrom Erin," he could drop the accent at pleasure and assume any otherwith perfect ease,--a feat rather difficult of accomplishment by agenuine Irishman.

  Nobody knew much about Carnes; he had no confidants, although he had hisfavorites, one of whom I chanced to be.

  He was older than myself by ten years, but when the mood seized him,could be younger by twenty. He had been absent from the office fornearly a year, and I mentally resolved that, after making my report andattending to business, I would lose no time in seeing him.

  Under the skilled hand of Dr. Denham my arm was soon dressed and madecomfortable. It would be well in a fortnight, the good doctor assuredme, and then as soon as I could, I withdrew from his presence and hiscustomary fire of raillery and questions, and stopping only to refreshmyself at a restaurant by the way, hastened on toward our office, whereI was soon closeted with my Chief.

  As usual, he made no comments, asked no questions, when I dawned uponhim thus unexpectedly. He never made use of unnecessary words. He onlyturned out one or two of the force who were lounging there, waiting hispleasure to attend to less important business, saw that the doors wereclosed and the outer office properly attended, and then seating himselfopposite me at the desk, said quietly:

  "Now, Bathurst?"

  I was well accustomed to this condensed way of doing things, and itsuited me. In a concise manner matching his own, I put him in possessionof the facts relating to the Groveland case, and then I made adiscovery. After relating how I had received the anonymous letter Iproduced my pocket-book, where I supposed it to be, and found itmissing! It was useless to search; the letter was not in my pocket-book,neither was it on my person.

  "Well!" I said, when fully convinced that the letter was certainly notin my possession, "here's another complication. I've been robbed and--Iknow who did it!"

  My companion made no comment, and I continued:

  "The letter was of no vital importance; I will finish my story and thenyou will know what has become of it."

  I told the rest; of my ride upon Mrs. Ballou's colt, of the pistolshot, my runaway steed, and my subsequent interview with Mrs. Ballou.How she had dressed my wound, how the circumstances had compelled me toconfide in her, and how she had risen to the occasion, and driven me tothe station at half-past three in the morning, and I finished by saying:

  "Now it looks to me as if Mrs. Ballou had stolen my letter, and if so,one might take that fact and the one that Nellie Ewing was never seenafter leaving her house, and count it as strong circumstantial evidence;but, that kind of evidence won't convince me that Mrs. Ballou isimplicated in the crime or the mystery. When I told her of the printedletter, I saw her eyes gleam; and when she asked to see the document Iread anxiety in her face. I am sure she took the letter, and I think shehas a suspicion of some sort; but if she has the letter she will returnit."

  My chief made no comment on all that I had told him; he picked up apaper weight and laid it down again with great precision, then he putall my story "on the shelf," as we were wont to express it, by askingabruptly:

  "What are you going to do next?"

  The question did not surprise me. He was not in the habit of offeringmuch advice to such operatives as he trusted with delicate cases, for henever trusted a man until he felt full confidence in his skill andintegrity. But when we desired to consult with him, he entered into thestudy of the case with animation and zeal; and then, and then only, didhe do a full share of the talking.

  "Going to send them a 'dummy,' if we can find one with the grit to facethe chances. They must suppose me entirely out of the business."

  "Yes."

  "I want an extraordinary dummy, too; a blusterer."

  "Wait," interrupted my companion, beginning to smile, "I have got justthe animal. When do you want to see him?"

  "As soon as possible; I want him in the field at once."

  "Very good. This fellow came here yesterday, and he's the greatestcombination of fool and egotist I ever saw. Knows he was born for adetective and is ready to face a colony of desperadoes; there is nolimit to his cheek and no end to his tongue. If you want a talkativefool he'll do."

  "Well," I replied, "that's what I want, but the man must not be quitedestitute of courage. I don't think that the party or parties will makeanother attack upon a fresh man, and yet they may; and this dummy mustremain there quite alone until the rascals are convinced that he has noconfederates. There is a keen brain at the bottom of this Grovelandmischief. I mean to overreach it and all its confederates, for I believethere must be confederates; and, sir, I don't believe those girls havebeen murdered."

  "No?"

  "No. But I want our dummy to act on the supposition that they _have_been. This will ease the vigilance of the guilty parties, and when theyare off their guard, our time will come. Where is Carnes?"

  My companion was in full sympathy with my abrupt change of the subject,and he answered, readily:

  "At his old rooms. Carnes had a bad cut, but he is getting alongfinely."

  "Is he? The doctor gave me the idea that
he was still in a doubtfulcondition."

  "Stuff," giving a short laugh, "some of his scarey talk; he told me thatCarnes would be about within two weeks. Carnes did some good work in theWest."

  "He is a splendid fellow; I must see him to-night. But about our dummy:when can you produce him?"

  "Will to-morrow do? say ten o'clock."

  "It must be later by an hour; the doctor takes me in hand at ten."

  "Eleven, then. I will have him here, and you'll find him a jewel."

  "Very good," I said, rising, and taking up my hat, "any message to sendto Carnes? I shall see him to-night."

  "Look here," turning upon me suddenly, "you are not to go to Carnes forany purpose but to _see_ him. You must not talk to him much, nor let himtalk; the doctor should have told you that. He is weak, and easilyexcited. It's bad enough to have two of my best men crippled and off atonce; you must not retard his recovery. Carnes is as unruly as aten-year old, now."

  I laughed; I could see just how this whimsical comrade of mine wouldchafe under his temporary imprisonment.

  "I won't upset the old fellow," I said, and took my leave.