The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery

He felt, and so did George Morgan, that they were about to hear revelations of the utmost importance.

Barney Hawks' first words, however, seemed a little foreign to the subject.

"Hand me that flask again, Jake," he said, in a tone of authority. "I must wet my whistle before I begin."

Jake took out the flask and passed it across the table without a word.

Barney took a liberal drink, and handing it back, said:

"Take a drop yourself, Jake, you may feel the need of it before I am through."

"So 'elp me gracious," muttered Jake, as he glanced at the flask: "it vos only a drop I could dake any how; dot vos all you hafe left me."

Barney seemed not to hear him, but hastened to say:

"You know the little trick we played down the road didn't work?"

"You mean putting der young station agent's pody on der track?"

"Yes; we hoped it would be supposed he had committed suicide, but as I say, our little game didn't work."

"How vos dot?"

"The engineer and fireman of the freight train both saw the body before they got to it; and while they couldn't slow up in time to escape running over it, they saw plainly enough that the man was dead, or at least drugged, before he was placed on the track."

"Dot vos pad."

"Yes; not only bad for us, but bad all around."

"What! do they suspect us, Parney?"

"No; but they are preparing to follow up certain clews that may, in the end, lead to us."

"Holy Moses! Do they suspect der rich young duffer?"

"Not yet. Just at present their suspicions point to another rich fellow; but they may come round to our man."

"Who's vorkin' up der case, Parney?"

"Nobody but Willett and Gaylord and a few common detectives are at it as yet; but I understand Old Spicer's going to take it up, and that's what makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Old Spicer! Father Abraham help us!"

"We shall need his help, or the help of some powerful saint, before we're through, I take it."

"I never quite understood the matter, any way," said Jake, in a thoughtful tone. "You asked me to help you with the job, and I did it. What did they want the young fellow put out of the way for, eh?"

"That's just what I was going to tell you."

"Well, Parney, drive on, vithout any more breface."

"All right! In the first place, then, you must know that several years ago a certain family, named Goddard, moved to Madison from New York. The father was engaged in mining operations in the Far West, and his family remained in the East.

"He had a beautiful daughter named Genevieve, who used to be rather wild, and furnished delectable gossip to Madison's staid matrons. She was not only beautiful, but vivacious, and when some young Hartford men camped out there, about six years ago, two of them – one a wealthy young fellow named Beach, and the other a rich gentleman whom we will call – Emory – fell in love with her.

"Now the Way family lived in Madison, and Charles Ives Way, who was then a romantic youth of sixteen or seventeen, had seen Miss Goddard, and, naturally, loved her – perhaps quite as much as either of the other gentlemen I have named.

"Genevieve had played her cards well, and had given both Beach and Emory, separately, cause to think that he, and he alone, was all the world to her.

"In carrying on her little game, she did her best to make them both jealous; but, strange to say, she never played them off against each other. For this purpose she always used to encourage Charley Way.

"Finally she carried things with such a high hand that, inside of two days, she had had fearful rows with both Beach and Emory; and in the heat of her anger she eloped with Way, and married him in New York.

"Just what Beach did I don't pretend to know. Emory went to her father and had a long private talk with him. The result was, her parents made her leave her husband, which, as I have an idea she never really cared anything about him, I suppose she did willingly enough.

"They took her out to Hot Springs, and while, no doubt, Way loved her devotedly, he never attempted to enforce his legal rights, and, so far as I know, never saw his wife again.

"Agents from her father, agents from Beach, and agents from our man, all in turn pestered him, and tried to induce him to get a divorce, as the woman had no grounds upon which to apply for one; but nothing they could do or say would induce him to procure a legal separation from her.

"At length our man became desperate. Mind! I'm not saying now that Genevieve ever promised, in case she should become free, to marry him; but I fancy he had encouragement enough to satisfy him, and he determined that she should be free.

"He sent another man to Way to reason with him. He tried other means, and when everything else failed, he sent for me."

"Und right avay, pooty quick, you sent for me."

"Yes; as soon as I had completed my bargain with him I sent for you."

"Und ve did de leetle schob."

"You're getting along too fast, Jake. First, we looked over the ground. Since his wife had left him, Way had gone into the railway business, and was now station-agent at Stony Creek.

"It so happened that I knew a party over at Leete's Island, close by."

"Peter Coffey, you mean?"

"Yes; and through him, without letting him suspect too much, we were able to learn a good deal. But, confound it, Jake, we have got Peter into the hottest kind of hot water."

"Vos dot so?"

"It's just so; and if we can't get at him, and fix matters right, he may let out something – tell of our frequent visits to his place, and all that."

"Py gracious! I hope he von't pe so careless. Put why do they susbect Peter?"

"For several reasons."

"Vell, vot vos one uv them?"

"A fellow named Howd claims to have been drugged, and robbed of forty dollars in money at Coffey's place, near the depot, several months ago. And then, as even you and I must admit, Jake, he is a pretty rough customer, any way."