Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express

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Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express Page 14

by A. Frank Pinkerton


  CHAPTER XIV

  DYKE DARREL ASTOUNDED.

  Dyke Darrel lifted a cloth from the face of the dead, and HarperElliston stood gazing down upon the features of wronged and murderedSibyl Osborne.

  The detective watched the expression of his companion's countenanceclosely.

  With bated breath the man-hunter glued his gaze upon the face of theman bending over the casket.

  "What a sad face, and yet most wonderful in its beauty. Who is she? Adaughter of the house?"

  Harper turned and regarded Dyke Darrel questioningly, a sympatheticlook in his black eyes.

  "Do you not know her?"

  "_I_ know her? You forget that I am a stranger in this part of theWest, Dyke."

  "She, too, was a stranger here, Elliston. Her home was in Burlington,and she has been brought to this by a villain who ought to pass theremainder of his days behind prison bars, if not conclude them at arope's end. Do you know Hubert Vander?"

  There was a stern ring in the detective's voice, and a look of deep,indignant feeling pervading his face. All the time he kept his gazeriveted on Elliston.

  That gentleman stood the ordeal without flinching, however.

  "Hubert Vander? The name is a new one to me, Dyke."

  "Indeed!"

  A sneer curled the lip of the detective.

  "What do you mean by that?" questioned Mr. Elliston. "Am I tounderstand that you connect ME in any way with this girl's death, orthat I am a friend to this Hubert Vander of whom you speak?"

  "Your pretended indignation will not deceive, Harper Elliston. Look atTHIS, and tell me what you think of it," said Dyke Darrel, with thesternness of steel.

  The detective laid the photograph he had obtained in the Black Hollowcabin in the hand of Mr. Elliston.

  The New Yorker did start then.

  He gazed long and constantly at the pictured face.

  "What have you to say now, Harper Elliston?" demanded Dyke Darrel, inan awful voice.

  "It is a mighty close resemblance," returned the gentleman. "Where didyou obtain this, Dyke?"

  "From Sibyl Osborne."

  "Sibyl Osborne?"

  "She who lies before you. If that is not YOUR portrait, and if you arenot the man who murdered Captain Osborne and ruined his daughter, thenI am out of my senses."

  With the words Dyke Darrel presented a cocked revolver at the heart ofthe cool, smiling villain before him.

  The smile left the New Yorker's face, and a serious expressionfollowed it.

  "What? You draw a pistol on me, Dyke Darrel? I am surprised," criedMr. Elliston in an injured tone. "I did not imagine that you couldlose confidence in me, let what would happen. Can it be that ourfriendship was but a brittle cord, after all?"

  "I cannot remain friendly when my confidence has been betrayed."

  "And you deem me a most hardened scoundrel? Of course you will give mea hearing. You are an upholder of law, and do not approve of lynching.Here, put on the handcuffs, Dyke, and take me to prison. You will besorry for this some time, but now that circumstances are against meyour friendship falls to the ground. I did not expect such treatment.However, I can live through it; but I shall never feel toward you as Ihave in times past. Put on the irons, Dyke. Why do you hesitate?"

  "There is a chance for a mistake, of course," said the detective,

  "I am glad you admit that much."

  "Is that your photograph?"

  "You said it belonged to a young lady!"

  "But is it a photograph of your face?"

  "It is not."

  "You swear it?"

  "I do."

  "And you were not in Black Hollow, last night?"

  "I was not."

  "Swear it?

  "I swear it."

  "You did not know this dead girl?"

  Dyke Darrel pointed toward the face in the coffin.

  "I did not."

  "Will you swear to this also?"

  "With my hand on my heart I swear."

  The white hand of Mr. Elliston was laid impressively against hisbosom.

  There was such a look of honest earnestness on the man's face it wasimpossible to doubt, and Dyke Darrel was forced to forego arrestingthe New Yorker then and there.

  If he was not fully satisfied, he did not permit Elliston to note thefact.

  "I did but try you, Harper," Dyke Darrel said with a smile, extendinghis hand. "You are true as steel and I am glad to find it so. I haveendured misery since last night, because I feared, and came to believeotherwise."

  "You will trust me as of old?"

  "Yes."

  "Thanks. Now tell me all about the facts regarding this poor girl."

  Dyke Darrel did as requested, although he kept back some things thathe did not deem it necessary for Mr. Elliston to know.

  "And you saw this Hubert Vander peering into the cabin window--the manwho looks like me!"

  "I did."

  "Well, it's pretty tough, and no mistake, to have a fellow of suchvillainous character circulating about in this region. I hope I won'tbe hung for his crime by indignant citizens. I agree with you thatthis Hubert Vander is a sleek villain, and that hanging is too goodfor him. It does seem that you made an important discovery last night,however."

  "Explain."

  "This man Vander no doubt murdered Captain Osborne."

  "I am led to think so myself," said Dyke Darrel.

  "He also jilted the Captain's daughter, if no worse, and the twosorrows turned the poor girl's brain. It is a sad and terrible case. Ifeel deeply interested, and hope to see the scoundrel who looks likeme brought to justice."

  "I am glad to hear you say so."

  "Furthermore I have another idea."

  "Proceed."

  "It is undoubtedly this Vander who planned the robbery of the midnightexpress. A man who could deceive one so beautiful as this girl, wouldnot hesitate to do anything to feather his own nest."

  "Again I agree with you."

  "Evidently it was either this man, or friends of his, who fastened thedoor of the cabin, and fired it with the hope of destroying thedetective who was dogging them so closely."

  "True, I had thought of that."

  "And here's another thing."

  "Well?"

  "May not this Vander and his friends conclude that the man-hunterperished in the flames, if they fail to see him again? A disguisewould fix that easily, you know."

  "No, that will not go down."

  "Why not?"

  "My enemies will visit the ruins of the cabin, and failing to discoverskeletons, will learn the truth."

  "That does not necessarily follow."

  "I think it does. I may act on your suggestion, however," returnedDyke Darrel.

  "And put on a disguise?"

  "Yes."

  "What will it be?"

  The detective laughed.

  "Don't ask me, Harper," he said. "Of what use a disguise that myfriends all understood?"

  "Is this because you fear to trust me, after what has happened, Dyke?"

  "No; but I prefer to keep my own counsel!"

  "And you are right."

  "I am glad you admit it."

  The friends then left the room.

  At the last moment, Dyke Darrel decided on accompanying the remains ofCaptain Osborne's daughter to Burlington. He realized that it was theproper thing to do. Elliston parted with the detective, telling himthat he meant to return to Woodburg for the present, and would meethim there on his return from the Iowa city.

  It was a sad duty that led the railroad detective to revisitBurlington, which he had last looked upon in the fall, shortly afterCaptain Osborne's disappearance.

  Arrived in the bustling Western city, Dyke Darrel was met at the depotby a surprise. An officer laid his hand on the detective's shoulder,and said:

  "You are my prisoner, young man."

  "Eh? Well, now, what is this for?" demanded Dyke Darrel angrily.

  "FOR THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN OSBORNE AND HIS DAUGHTER!"
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  Dyke Darrel felt the cold muzzle of a revolver touch his temple at thelast.

 

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