Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express
Page 27
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE STORY OF A WART.
"Nell, what is it?" questioned the surprised detective.
Harry regarded the girl with a queer smile. Perhaps he knew what hadbrought the exclamation to the lips of Miss Darrel.
"I know a man who has lost a wart," she said, slowly, a deepeningpallor coming to her cheeks.
"His name?" questioned Dyke Darrel, eagerly.
But the girl did not immediately answer. It seemed that somethingmoved her deeply.
"Was it Professor Ruggles?" questioned Harry, in order to help theyoung girl out.
"No," she said.
"Who then?"
"Harper Elliston!"
A grave look chased the smile from the face of Harry Bernard.
The girl's announcement seemed to prove a revelation to him, even asit did to Dyke Darrel.
"I did not know the man who severed the wart from his hand," saidHarry Bernard, after a brief silence, "but suspected that it wasDarlington Ruggles. It seems now that I was correct."
"How is that?"
"Have you not guessed the truth," queried Harry Bernard. "I made thediscovery some time since that the red-haired man and Harper Ellistonwere one and the same."
This came as a revelation to both the detective and his sister.
"I have had suspicions," said Dyke Darrel, "but never anythingdefinite regarding the villainy of this man Elliston. He has playedhis cards well, but I became undeceived not long after this greatrailroad crime. That he was not my friend I discovered, and then Iresolved to watch him. I have reason to believe that it was to him Iowe my arrest in Burlington, Iowa. I now see the truth, that under theassumed name of Hubert Vander, Elliston ruined a young girl ofBurlington, and, it may be, murdered her father, wealthy CaptainOsborne. It would be strange indeed, should the trail that ends withthe capture of the express robber also bring to punishment theassassin of the Burlington Captain."
"It seems likely to end in that way," returned Harry.
"Let us hear what Nell has to say with regard to the wart," said thedetective, turning to his sister.
"It will require but a few words to do that," said Nell Darrel. "Ialways noticed a peculiarly shaped wart on the finger of Mr.Elliston's shapely right hand, and once he remarked upon it to me,saying that it was a disfigurement, and that he meant to have itremoved sometime. I think it was the first time I met Mr. Ellistonafter the terrible news of the mid night express tragedy that Inoticed the absence of the wart, and a bit of surgeon's plastercovering the spot. I laughed over his having undergone such a severesurgical operation, and he seemed to take it in good part, assuring methat HE was the surgeon who amputated the excrescence with a razor. Ofcourse I thought nothing strange of it at the time."
"You said the wart had a peculiar shape? How is that?" questionedHarry Bernard.
"It was large, and was composed of two crowns. I think, perhaps twowarts had grown together at the roots."
"Exactly. Would you know the wart if you should see it again?"
"I think I should."
"So would I," cried the detective.
Then Harry Bernard drew a small vial from his pocket and held it up toview. A small object, submerged in alcohol, was visible. When placedin the hand of Nell, the girl at once exclaimed:
"That is certainly the wart that once disfigured the hand of HarperElliston!"
"Where did you get it?" questioned Dyke Darrel, now deeply interestedat the links that were being rapidly forged in the chain of evidence.
"Dyke, you know that when I left Woodburg some months ago, I went fromamong you under a cloud?"
"I will not dispute you--"
"No explanation is necessary on your part, Dyke. I imagine I was asmuch to blame as anybody. Nell and I quarreled, and I imagined thatthe handsome, elderly New Yorker had stepped into my shoes, so far asshe was concerned. I did not like the man, and so I resolved toinvestigate for myself, and if I found that he was not worthy of Nell,whom I loved and should always love while life lasted, I determined toexpose him, and save your sister. During the past few months I havebeen making this investigation, to find that the supposed immaculateHarper Elliston is known in Gotham in certain circles as a gambler andvillain of the deepest dye. He has committed some crimes that areworse than murder. Now, as to the wart: It was soon after I had heardof the murder on the express train, that while riding in the smokingcar of an emigrant train in Iowa, I saw an old man deliberately slicea huge wart from his little finger with a keen-edged knife. The wartfell under the seat and rolled at my feet. The old man made no effortto recover it, but wrapped his bleeding hand in a handkerchief andmuttered: 'THAT witness will never come up to trouble me.' There wassomething in the man's voice that sounded familiar, and the strangewhiteness of his hands aroused my suspicions, for in dress andappearance the man was a laborer of the lower class. Curiosity, ifnothing stronger, prompted me to take possession of the severed wartthat had rolled at my feet. Soon after that I read the notice in anewspaper, to the effect that the assassin of the express train hadleft the imprint of a wart on the bosom of the dead man's shirt. Sincethat time I have regarded hands with no little interest, and havelooked for the old man of the emigrant car in vain."
"An interesting recital," said the detective, when Harry Bernard cameto a pause. "Knowing all this, you kept it from me at St. Louis."
"My reason for that was, that I did not care to arouse any foolishtheories. Of course, the reporter's story might have been false. Thewart on my own hand, somewhat similar to this, led me to keep my owncouncil as a matter of personal safety. Although I suspected Elliston,I had no proof, since I had forgotten the fact of his ever having awart on the little finger of his right hand. My principal hope hasbeen in finding the old man of the emigrant train."
"You have not found him?"
"Not unless Elliston is the man."
"Did you suspect this before now?"
"I did; now I am convinced."
Just then Harry Bernard chanced to raise his eyes and gaze out of theopen window.
He came suddenly to his feet with a startled exclamation.
Dyke Darrel glanced out of the window to notice a bent old man, withwhite hair and beard, moving away from the vicinity of the house.Evidently he had been looking into the room, if not listening to theconversation of the trio.
"Saints of Rome! there is the old man of the emigrant train now!"
Dyke Darrel staggered to the window, while Harry Bernard rushedswiftly from the farm-house.