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

"Have you got any wealth concealed in the little vault?"

"Schust a leetle, Parney – not much. It vos schust my share in der last boodle und der von pefore dot."

"Well, whatever it is, you'd better go and get it at once. If that revolver is gone, it isn't at all likely we'll want to visit this place again in a hurry."

"Dot vos so, Parney."

"Come on, then. Move the bunks aside. That's right – go ahead. I'll hold the light."

Jake squeezed his way behind the bunks, and throwing open the door, entered the inner vault, closely followed by Barney, bearing the light.

They took a step forward; but only to have the muzzles of two revolvers thrust into their faces, and to hear a voice, in stern and threatening tones, exclaim:

"You were looking for poor Charley Way's revolver a moment ago. Here it is! Will you have the contents now? You have only to move hand or foot, and they are yours, I swear it!"

"Old Spicer, by Jove!" ejaculated Barney, in a tone of chagrin.

"It vos, so 'elp me gracious!" groaned Jake, in a voice of despair.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SITUATION CHANGED – OLD SPICER STARTS FOR NEW YORK

Barney Hawks stood just behind Jake Klinkhammer, and a little to the right of him.

As he uttered the great detective's name, the light he carried dropped from his hand and almost instantly expired, leaving the place in total darkness.

The next moment he grasped Jake by the arm, and whispering the single word "burrow" in his ear, slipped around the bunks and disappeared.

Old Spicer fired two shots and Morgan one.

At the second shot, Jake Klinkhammer fell, with a dismal groan. And hastily calling upon George to light their own lamp, the old detective stooped down to raise up the supposed wounded man.

To his surprise, he could not find him, and the lamp which George by this time succeeded in lighting, revealed the fact that he too had disappeared.

An earnest and vigorous search for the murderers was now begun; but after a quarter of an hour had passed, not the slightest signs of them had been discovered.

"Where can they have escaped to so suddenly?" exclaimed George, impatiently. "Surely they did not get through the Ernst basement."

"No, nor by the other tunnel either," returned Spicer. "There must be a secret passage we have not found yet."

"Well, what shall we do? They're gone clean enough by this time, that's certain."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Spicer; "but whether or no, there's one thing we'd better do while we're here."

"What's that, sir?"

"Find the Hebrew's stolen treasure, and in fact, everything else we may have overlooked in our previous search. Now that they have got away from us, and know we have discovered their secret, they won't leave anything here that we may pass over."

"That's true enough. But do you really think they may yet be in one or the other of these vaults?"

"I think it's quite possible."

"Then suppose only one of us hunts for the treasure, while the other searches for the murderers."

"Very good, which task do you prefer?"

"To hunt for the villains."

"Very good again. Only let me warn you, don't let them get a shot at you from some dark recess."

"I'll look out for that;" and Morgan recommenced his search for the fugitives, while Old Spicer began looking for Jake Klinkhammer's treasure.

He soon found it, and, to his utmost astonishment, found that it consisted of $13,782 in gold and national bank notes, and watches, diamonds and jewelry to the value of at least $5,000 more.

"A big haul!" he exclaimed, "and with the memoranda I found, I shall be enabled to return by far the greater portion of it to its rightful owners."

He then went over the two vaults, inch by inch, but discovered very little more of importance.

Then, as Morgan had found no traces of the murderers, he decided to return to the outer world, and, after a conference with Stricket, and perhaps with the coroner, to put in operation a plan that he had been maturing in his mind for the past half hour.

Morgan followed the old detective with some reluctance. He could not bear to think that such consummate villains as the two who had so cleverly eluded them, should be allowed to make their escape. But he was forced to admit that he could give no good reason why they should remain longer under ground, and so, slowly, he followed Old Spicer through the tunnel into the sub-cellar, and from thence into the coal-vault and through the coal-hole, and so into the upper world.

On emerging from the passageway into York Street, they saw a cab passing. Old Spicer immediately hailed it, and, when they were seated inside, requested the jehu to drive as fast as his horse could go down Chapel Street.

"Where to?" asked Jehu, curiously.

"Go till I tell you to stop," was the reply, and the horse started.

In front of the Western Union Telegraph Company's office, Old Spicer gave the signal to stop; and, springing from the cab, he rushed into the office, scratched thirteen words on a blank, and, handing it to the operator, said:

"Get that off at once. It's on a matter of life and death."

The operator took the dispatch, and this is what he read:

"Adam Killett, 300 Mulberry Street, New York:

"Meet me at Grand Central depot on arrival of four-eleven morning train.

    "Spicer."

"All right, sir," said the operator, "it shall go this minute."

"And mind!" said Old Spicer, "if he isn't at the office, as it's hardly likely he will be at this hour, have it taken to him wherever he may be; understand?"

"All right, sir; but I shall have to charge for sending the instructions."

"Charge what you have a mind to, but see to it that Mr. Killett gets that dispatch, that's all I care about it."