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The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery
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"Yes, Parney; put all dot vosn't any evidence in this case."
"No; but you see we put the body on the track just at the point where a little path leads to Coffey's house. We ought to have known better."
"Dot vos so. I'm surbrised at you, Parney."
"Then it seems that he left a package of sugar in the depot, when we sent him there that night in order to make sure of Way's movements. And the morning after the murder, he was fool enough to go and claim it."
"Holy Moses! vot an innocent!"
"But that isn't the worst."
"Father Abraham! what else?"
"He came to the city after he had sent home his sugar, and he was heard to remark by two or three persons that he was with Way three minutes before the freight train went through, but that he would not tell anything more about it for a clean thousand dollars."
"Did he say dot, Parney?"
"So I understand."
"So 'elp me gracious! I will kill him before I am a tay older."
"Hum! perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad idea, Jake."
"I dell you, Parney Hawks, I will do it."
"I am perfectly willing, my dear boy."
"Dot settles it, then."
"All right. Do you remember that Clark that we saw with Peter two or three times?"
"Yes."
"Well, they think he had a hand in the affair. One woman, Mrs. Tyron, claims she saw him running down the street just after the freight train passed."
"Perhaps she did."
"Yes, and perhaps she didn't."
"Vell, let 'em think so, anyway. They may hang him if they want to: I sha'n't stop 'em, Parney."
"Nor I, either; but I reckon he'll get out of it easy enough."
"Has anything peen said apout der money ve found?"
"Yes; it is claimed that the murderers got away with one hundred and fifty dollars."
"Dot vos a mean lie; it vos only one hundred und forty-nine tollars und seventy-eight cents. Vere vos dot odder twenty-two cents?"
"You'd better ask 'em, Jake."
"No, thank you."
"By the way, where did you get the bottle of whisky you had with you that night?"
"Hum – I ton't remember, Parney."
"Think."
"I can't think."
"You must."
"Vhy?"
"They have picked up the broken pieces of the bottle, which, like a blasted fool, you left on the track near the dead body, and now they're trying to find the man who sold the whisky."
"They von't find him, then."
"Why not?"
"Pecause nopody never sold dot visky."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean dot I don't vos puy a tollar's worth uv visky in den years."
"Thunder! I might have known that."
"Of course."
"But where did you steal it, then?"
"I can't dell. In Shake Mann's, may pe."
"Can't you be sure?"
"Yes, Parney, it vos there. I remember now."
"All right, then. The place was crowded when we were in there, and among so many he'll never remember you."
"I'm villin' to pe forgotten, Parney."
"I should say so! And now about Way's revolver: you got that, didn't you?"
"Yes, Parney, I got dot."
"Where is it?"
