Jim Cummings; Or, The Great Adams Express Robbery
Page 9
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE TOILS.
The dark shadow that had followed Cummings and Moriarity from thedistillery to Cook's cooper-shop was none other than the assumed BarneyO'Hara, who had aired his heels so jauntily in the saloon thatafternoon.
Watching on the outside while Chip was working Cook, he had spotted andshadowed the two men as they came down the road.
The careless exposure of his face to Cummings through the window wasthe cause of the latter's sudden attempt to catch him.
His nimble heels again stood him in good stead, and in the darkness heeasily eluded his pursuer.
Cummings gave up the chase, and returning just in time, had stoppedChip's success by knocking him down with a slungshot and carrying himoff.
When Barney, or, rather, Sam, returned to renew his investigation, hefound the shop empty, save the intoxicated Cook.
Thinking his late pursuer and his companion had taken the alarm, andthat Chip was now doubtless shadowing them, he walked into the shop,and, true to his detective instincts and education, began a diligentsearch of the place.
He was actively engaged in this work when the sound of hasty footstepsreached his ears. Throwing himself flat on the floor, behind a pile ofbarrel staves, he drew his revolver and waited. The steps passed by,however, and Sam quickly but quietly left the shop.
He could barely see the form of a man walking rapidly down the streetto the horse-car track.
As he passed the window of the saloon the light fell on him, and Samsaw it was one of the two men who had just left the cooper-shop.
Following closely, using all his skill as a successful shadow, hetrailed the man to the car, and boarding the front platform rode intotown.
Passing a livery stable the man left the car, still followed by Sam.
When Moriarity, for it was he whom Sam was trailing, rode back to theriver, Sam was perched on behind the hack.
He saw the wounded Chip placed inside, thanks to the darkness, andstill hanging on the back of the carriage was carried back to town.
When the two train robbers turned into the alley Sam was right behindthem, so close that he could hear their labored breathing. Suddenly, asif they had been swallowed by the earth, he was left alone in the dark,nonplussed and outwitted.
Not a point of light was visible, and settling himself against the wallof a building, Sam started in for an all-night watch.
He understood the case at once. Chip had been knocked down by therenegades, and, probably still insensible, had been carried to theirhaunt. Knocked down, either because they had discovered his disguise,or had suspected him.
He was now firmly convinced that if Cook was not an accomplice in thetrain robbery, he was involved in something criminal, and Sam regrettedthat he had not been more thorough in his investigations. Now that Chipwas in the hands of his enemies, all others sank into insignificance;so with keen eyes and sharp ears, Sam kept his solitary vigil.
The gray dawn of the morning had taken the place of the night, and Sam,under the shadow of a convenient shed door had heard or seen nothingpass his post. The day grew stronger, and, chilled to the bone, thedisappointed detective left the alley and wended his way to hisboarding-house.
The cause of the sudden disappearance of the two robbers the reader isacquainted with, and the reason Sam failed to see them again wasbecause they had left the house by another exit.
The widow, acting as a go-between and a fence for the light-fingeredgentry who patronized her establishment, hid her real calling with theguise of a fortune-teller, and her house, poorly furnished, damp andmoldy when entered from the alley, was well furnished in the upperstories.
The room in which Chip was confined was the sybil's chief pride. Everyarticle of furniture, every bit of painting, the carpets, and even thebase-burning stove, were the trophies of successful robberies.
The very sheets and towels had been deftly purloined by the widowherself.
It was this stronghold of the "gang," to which Chip, battered andinsensible, had been brought by his captors.
Cummings, who from his actions was no stranger to the house, in briefauthoritative tones, bade the witch to take charge of this prisoneruntil further disposition could be made of him.
The widow listened to his words, and with the submission which all hisassociates rendered to him, promised to do all he commanded.
The first gleam of the morning warned the two men that they must seektheir cover, for despite Jim's natural boldness and daring, he wascautious and careful. Instead of descending to the room which had itsentrance from the alley, they mounted another flight of stairs, andgaining the roof by means of the scuttle, walked the flat mansard untilanother hatch-door was reached, and through it they entered a quiet,unassuming appearing house, which stood on the side street from whichthe alley branched.
The house, though completely furnished, was vacant, and the men reachedthe street without meeting any one.
Cummings and Moriarity having left, the widow, for the first timeventured to look at her new charge. Her keen eyes noted the disguisewhich Chip had adopted. The wicked blow which had brought him to thisplight had moved the red wig to one side and disclosed the darkclustering hair, now bathed and soaked in his blood.
He was still unconscious, but his strong constitution was regaining itssway, and he moved uneasily on his soft couch.
The widow, now remembering the commands which Cummings had laid uponher, hastened to bring water, and washed the wound. The slung shot hadstruck squarely across the crown of the head, but the cut was not verylarge or deep, and the widow, with ready skill, bound it neatly withbandages, and holding a brandy flask to his mouth forced some of itscontents down his throat.
The color came back to the detective's face, and in a few moments hiseyes opened, and with a dazed expression wandered over the room.
The widow, as she noticed the first signs of returning consciousnesshad retired from the room, now, with consummate skill, put a kindly,even tender, look toward the sufferer as she reappeared through thedoor.
Chip, still very much bewildered, his head feeling as though it waswhirling off his shoulders, heard a pleasant voice asking: "And how ismy poor boy, now?"
Chip gazed vacantly at her, as he responded:
"Who are you? Where am I--my head--"
"Come, come, don't talk. Take this medicine like a good boy, and go tosleep."
With childlike obedience the detective swallowed the draught, whichsoon took possession of his senses, and he fell asleep.
The widow quietly sat beside him until the opiate had taken fulleffect. Then muttering "You are safe for four and twenty hours," shedescended to her divining-room, leaving the detective deep in slumber,and in complete ignorance of his surroundings.