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

"I was just thinking of that, and I fancy we had better have a little help. Do you remember Stark?"

"What – your old friend, Silas?"

"The same."

"Yes, I remember him well."

"Glad to hear it. You've no objection to my calling him in?"

"None in the world. I shall be glad to have his assistance."

"Then I'll send for him and Rouse. It so happens they are in this neighborhood. Excuse me a moment, and I'll telephone for them," and Detective Killett left the room.

In a few moments he returned, and ten minutes later Silas Stark and Reuben Rouse entered the apartment.

Old Spicer minutely described Barney and Jake, and both Silas and Reub thought they should recognize them without the slightest trouble.

But Killett suddenly started a possible difficulty.

"These fellows are cunning rascals," he said; "ten to one, when they land, they will be disguised."

"Right, by Jove!" exclaimed Old Spicer; "and if they are as cunning as I think they are, they'll separate, and reach their objective point from different directions."

"Just so; and we must be prepared for any such little game." Then, turning to the man he called his right bower:

"Silas," he asked, "do you think you can penetrate any disguise they may assume?"

"I fancy I shall know that Hawks, sir," was the answer; "for, if I am not greatly mistaken, I have seen the villain more than once already."

"And you, Rouse?"

"I reckon I can get on to the Jew, sir," replied Reub.

"How'll you know him?"

"I shall know him by his nose, sir. He can't disguise that, I take it."

Both Killett and Old Spicer laughed.

"A good ear-mark to go by," observed the latter.

"Ear-mark, eh? I shouldn't have thought to call it by that name."

"It's about time for the seven o'clock train to arrive," said Killett, suddenly; "any use in going over, think?"

"It will do no harm," returned Old Spicer; "but, as I said before, it's hardly possible for them to have caught it."

"No matter, let's go across any way," and the quartet of detectives went over to the depot, and planting themselves at different points, waited for the train.

Very soon it came rolling in, and every passenger was brought under the eye of one or the other of the quartet.

At length the last had gone, and neither Barney nor Jake had been seen.

They went back to the hotel and held another consultation, which lasted for nearly an hour.

Again, as the pointers of Old Spicer's faithful watch indicated that the hour of eight had almost arrived, they crossed over to the depot and stationed themselves as before.

Presently the train came in, and the passengers began to crowd their way out of it and hasten toward the street.

Soon Barney and Jake made their appearance, disguised in the overcoats and hats "borrowed" from the rack in the hall of the murdered Marsden's house.

Old Spicer, who, during the past hour had carefully disguised himself, and Silas Stark caught sight of them at the same time.

The precious pair walked for some distance toward the exit, conversing together in low and hurried tones. Then they separated, Jake pressing on ahead, and ascending to the elevated railway station, while Barney passed out on to Forty-second Street, and hurried toward Sixth Avenue.

Old Spicer made a signal to Killett, and the two followed Barney.

Seeing this, Silas Stark motioned to Reub, and together they hurried up-stairs after Jake.

Barney kept on toward Sixth Avenue, little suspecting who was behind him.

He ascended to the elevated station at the corner of the avenue and Forty-second Street, on the down-town side, and was the first to board a train that stopped just as he reached the platform.

A moment later the two famous detectives were in the same car.

Barney paid no attention to the other passengers, but turning his head, gazed steadfastly out of the window.

At the station nearest to Christopher Street, he got off, and hurrying down that street, turned into Hudson. Then he began looking for No. 515, the two detectives still close behind him.

At length he found the saloon, and after one hasty glance, entered it.

Old Spicer and Killett approached the door. A hard-looking bummer was loafing on the outside, waiting for some one, or any one, out of whom he might beat a drink.

"Who runs this establishment?" asked Killett.

"Jimmie Taylor," was the prompt reply.

"Ah! Jimmie Taylor, eh? Guess this will do for us. Let's go in and have something."

"Thank ye, sir, I don't mind if I do," exclaimed the bum, with alacrity.

"I wasn't speaking to you, sir," laughed Killett. "However, come along; I don't mind planting another nail in your coffin."

They entered, and discovered Barney at a table in a corner, with a glass of whisky before him.

"Barkeeper," said Killett, "give this fellow what he calls for, and bring us two sours to the table over there;" and they took seats at some little distance from Barney, but within earshot, provided any one should speak to him.

The "bum" ordered a whisky straight, and when he had been supplied with his favorite fluid, the barkeeper built the sours and took them to his waiting customers.