CHAPTER XXIX.
RETRIBUTION.
A tall, handsome man of middle-age stood picking his teeth with ajaunty air beside the desk of a down-town boarding-house, when hisoccupation, if such we may call it, was interrupted by a touch on hisarm.
Looking down, the gentleman saw a small, ragged urchin standing near.
"It is yourn--10 cents, please."
The boy held out a yellow envelope, on which was scrawled the name"Harper Elliston."
The gentleman dropped the required bit of silver into the boy's handwith the air of a king, and then tore open the envelope.
"MR. ELLISTON: Meet me at Room 14, Number 388 Blank street, at seventhis evening, SHARP. Business of importance.
"B."
The contents of the envelope puzzled Mr. Elliston, who had been butten days in New York since his return from the West. He had severalacquaintances whose names might with appropriateness be signed B. "Idon't think there'll be any harm in meeting Mr. B. at the placementioned. It may be of importance, as he says. If it should be a trapset by Dyke Darrel--but, pshaw! that man is dead. I had it from thelips of Martin Skidway, and he knew whereof he spoke. I will call at388, let the consequences be what they may." Thus decided a cunningvillain, and in so doing went to his own doom.
Ten days had Dyke Darrel and his friend Bernard searched the city ofNew York ere they found their prey. Once found, the detective resolvedupon a novel manner of procedure for his capture. The sending of theletter was part of the scheme. Had this failed, then a bolder movewould have been made.
But it did not fail.
When Mr. Elliston rapped at room 14, number 388 Blank street, the doorwas opened, admitting the visitor to a small room containing a bed, afew necessary articles of furniture, and a curtained alcove.
The door was suddenly closed and locked behind Elliston, light wasturned on fully, and then the visitor found himself confronted byHarry Bernard, whom he had met once or twice in Woodburg, many monthsbefore.
"Eh!" ejaculated Elliston. "So you are the man who wrote that noterequesting an interview? Well, I am glad to see you, Mr. Bernard," andElliston held out his hand, with a smile wreathing his thin lips.
"I imagined you would be," returned the youth. "I am glad to see youso well. Fact is, you are badly wanted out in Illinois at the presenttime."
"I am sorry that I cannot accommodate my friends out there," returnedElliston, with a frown; "but it is wholly out of the question. I thinkI will bid you good evening, Mr. Bernard. I cannot waste precious timehere."
He turned and grasped the door-knob. It did not yield to his touch.
"Not just yet, Mr. Elliston," said Harry. "I wish to ask you a fewquestions."
"Well?"
"What do you know of the murder of Arnold Nicholson on the midnightexpress, south of Chicago, some weeks ago?"
"I read of it, of course."
Mr. Elliston pulled nervously at his glove as he answered.
"What do you know of the disappearance of Captain Osborne and thedeath of his daughter?" persisted Bernard.
"Do you suppose I have nothing to do but answer such nonsensicalquestions?" demanded Elliston, angrily. "Open this door and let mepass out."
"Not yet. I wish to tell you a little story, Mr. Elliston."
"I haven't time to listen."
"Nevertheless, you must take the time," said Harry Bernard, sternly."Don't attempt to make trouble, sir; you will get the worst of it ifyou do."
There was a glitter in the eyes of the speaker that was not pleasantto see.
Mr. Elliston sank to a chair, and with an air of resignation said:
"Well, well, this is impudent, but I will listen if it will gratifyyou."
"It certainly will. I wish to start out with the assertion that you DOknow something about the crime on the midnight express, and I will tryand convince you that _I_ know what part you acted in the murder ofone of the best men in the service of the express company. Don't loseyour temper, sir, but listen?"
"I am listening."
There was a sullen echo in the man's voice that boded an outburstsoon.
"A gentleman of your build and complexion boarded the train at astation just south of Chicago one night in April. At another stationtwo companions joined this man, according to previous agreement. Onewas almost a boy in years, an escaped convict; and these three menduring the night entered the express car, murdered the agent, and wentthrough the safe. Just before reaching Black Hollow the three men leftthe car. One of the three was tall and had red hair and beard. Thisman, after the slaughter, left a trace behind that has led to hisidentity. He left the imprint of a bloody hand on a white handkerchiefthat he took from the pocket of his victim. That handkerchief wasafterward found, and the bloody mark compared with the hand of theassassin."
"That could hardly be possible. Hands are many of them alike,"articulated Mr. Elliston, nervously.
"True, but in this case a wart, of peculiar shape, gave the man away.The mark of his bloody hand, leaving the wart's impress, was not onlyon the handkerchief, but left against the white shirt-front of themurdered man as well. The man who committed the murder read of theclew in a Chicago paper, and, to obliterate the tell-tale evidence, hecut the wart from his hand and dropped it under the seat whilejourneying through Iowa in disguise, on an emigrant train."
The face of Elliston had become white as death, and he trembled fromhead to foot. If Bernard had doubted before, he doubted now no longer.
"A nice story," finally sneered Bernard's visitor. "When did you learnso much?"
"Weeks ago--"
"And you have permitted this villain to run at large so long!"
"Well, I propose to see that he does not flaunt his crimes in the faceof the world longer."
Then, with a quick movement, the youth drew a vial from his pocket andheld it up to view, exhibiting to the dilating eyes of the New Yorkera large wart with a double top.
"Just remove the glove from your right hand, Mr. Elliston. I think wewill find a scar there that this wart will fit--"
"Furies! this is too much," cried Elliston, coming to his feet, whitewith rage and fear.
"Stop. Keep your temper," warned Bernard. "I wish to bring a witness;one that has been your companion in crime."
The curtain over the alcove was brushed aside, and a man steppedforth, a man with red whiskers and hair, the latter surmounted with aglossy plug hat.
Elliston stared like one bereft of sense and life.
"Allow me to introduce Professor Darlington Ruggles, Mr. Elliston,"uttered Harry Bernard in a mocking voice.
"Hades! what does this mean?" and the trapped villain staggered,clutching the back of a chair for support.
"It means that your race of crime and diabolism is run, HarperElliston!"
Red hair and beard were suddenly swept aside, a revolver was thrustinto the startled countenance of Elliston; he looked, and could onlyutter:
"DYKE DARREL, THE DETECTIVE!"
"Do you deny your guilt, scoundrel?"
But Harper Elliston sank to a seat, and bowed his head, while drops ofcold sweat covered his forehead.
The touch of cold steel and click of closing bracelets roused him.
He was helpless now, for his wrists were encircled by handcuffs. Blackdespair confronted the villain.
Dyke Darrel went through the pockets of his prisoner and found arevolver, an ugly looking clasp knife, and other articles of a naturethat served to show that the owner was not pursuing an honest calling.
"Do you remember that night on the dock beside the river, Elliston?"questioned Bernard, bending suddenly over the prisoner.
But no answer came from the bloodless lips of the cornered villain.
"It was I who tore your mask of red hair from your head that night. Ihad mistrusted you for a villain, and I meant to unmask you to saveNell Darrel, whom I loved, from your wiles. You struck me with a knifeand pushed me into the river. I, however, was not harmed. The point ofyour knife glanced on a small
book that I carried in an inner pocket.I escaped from the river, and resolved to follow you to your doom. Ioverheard your plans of abducting Nell Darrel, when you fired at mymasked face that night as I peered into Mother Scarlet's room. I thenknew you to be a villain of the deepest dye. Since, I learned that youwere the man in disguise on the emigrant train in Iowa, and this wartwill, with other evidence, condemn you before an honest jury of yourpeers."
A groan alone answered the denouement made by Harry Bernard.
Dyke Darrel removed the glove from his prisoner's right hand, andexposed a scarcely-healed scar near the joint of the little finger.The chain of evidence was complete. The red hair in the clutches ofthe murdered Nicholson had evidently been torn from the false beard ofthe disguised assassin.
The New Yorker was removed from the house and taken at once to prison.From thence, on the following morning, Dyke Darrel set out on hisreturn to the Garden City with Elliston in charge.
Harry Bernard remained over at the farm-house in New York State to seeNell, who had been left in the care of Paul Ender. Nell had almostentirely recovered from the shock of her recent treatment, and wasoverjoyed at the outcome of her friends' visit to New York.
"Elliston will be convicted and hanged," was Bernard's verdict.
On the very day of Harry's arrival at the farm-house, he, with the oldfarmer, was summoned to visit one who had met with a fatal accidentand was about to die.
It proved to be Martin Skidway, who lay on a barn floor with his headin his mother's lap, gasping his life away, an ugly wound in his side.
He had accidentally shot himself and was rapidly sinking. A fugitivein hiding for weeks, his life had been an intolerable one. Now that hewas dying, he made a full confession, admitting his own hand in theawful railroad crime, and implicating two others, Elliston and NickBrower. Sam Swart had been one of them, but he was known to be dead.
"Without HIS urging I would never have stained my hands; in fact, itwas Elliston who struck the blow that killed the express messenger."
Without this confession, there was evidence enough to convict the NewYorker; with it, both Brower and the principal were found guilty ofmurder in the first degree and sentenced to the gallows. Nick Browerwas the only one of the four who expiated his crime on the gallows.Harper Elliston died in prison by his own hand.
He left a note admitting the express crime, and also confessing to themurder of Captain Osborne and the ruin of his daughter Sibyl. His wasa fitting end to a career of unparalleled crime.
* * * * *
We now draw a veil over the scene.
Harry Bernard and Nell Darrel were, soon after the arrest and death ofElliston, happily married.
Dyke Darrel considers the events leading up to the capture andpunishment of those engaged in the crime of the midnight express asamong the most thrilling and wonderful of his detective experience. ToHarry Bernard and Paul Ender he gives a large share of the credit, andwith them shared the reward. Bernard has of late worked in conjunctionwith Dyke Darrel on other cases, and is fast winning a reputationsecond only to that of the great railroad detective himself.
THE END.
Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express Page 29
