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

"Right. Well, Silas, what is it?"

"I have a suggestion to make, sir."

"Out with it, then."

"I would recommend taking Taylor before he can see Chamberlain. They'll give us trouble if they get together."

"You're right. And so far as I can see, there's no reason why Taylor shouldn't be arrested at once."

"It must be managed quietly, then," suggested Old Spicer. "It mustn't be known that he's taken."

"Correct, old friend, I see the point. Is he still in the saloon, Silas?"

"Yes, sir; but getting ready to leave."

"Well, send a policeman in uniform in there, and have him tell Taylor that he is wanted at the excise commissioners' office."

"All right sir; and what then?"

"Why, follow and arrest him; say somewhere in the vicinity of Bond Street and Broadway."

"Very good, sir."

"Who's looking after the other scoundrels?"

"Quackenbush and Crowley."

"That's all right. And so, when Taylor is safe under lock and key, I wish you'd be on the lookout for Chamberlain," and Killett explained the situation.

"Oho! he has a secret friend, eh?" exclaimed Stark, when he had finished. "I should like nothing better than to hunt down that man."

"Why so?" asked Old Spicer, curiously.

"Because I believe it will turn out that he, whoever he is, has encouraged this crime."

"Very likely," returned Spicer, in a musing tone.

"Well," exclaimed Killett, abruptly, "we shall see by and by, and now be off with you, my good friend," and Stark hurried away.

He soon fell in with a policeman.

"How are you, Tompkins?" he cried, slapping the officer on the back. "Fine day."

"Hallo!" returned the man in blue, looking round. "What the deuce – Oh, is it you, Stark?"

"Yes, it's me, old boy, and I have a little job for you."

"What is it?"

"Walk along with me and I'll tell you."

The policeman fell into step with the detective, and after a moment, said:

"Well, drive ahead."

"Know Jimmie Taylor's place, down Hudson Street?" asked Stark.

"Know it? Well, I should say so!"

"All right; he's in there now. I want you to go in and just say to him that he's wanted up at the excise commissioners' office right away; and then, in as unconcerned a manner as possible, come out."

"I understand. But, I say, Stark, what's the row?"

"Nobody knows that yet, but you'll hear, I fancy, before you're much older."

"All right. Here we are, and I'll do your little job for you," and Tompkins entered the saloon.

Taylor was in earnest conversation with his barkeeper.

He looked up on hearing footsteps, and when he saw the policeman, he started.

Tompkins appeared not to notice this, but walking up to where he was standing, said, carelessly:

"What's the matter, Jemmie? What's the hitch between you and the folks at the excise office?"

"Didn't know there was any," was the quick reply. "I run this saloon on the square; and so far as I know, there's no chance for any one to find fault."

"You're all right, for anything I've ever seen to the contrary, but something's up and you're wanted at the excise office at once."

"At once, eh?"

"Yes, they want to question you, I suppose, and if you'll take my advice, you'll get around there with the least possible delay."

"I'll go this very minute. Jerry, give Mr. Tompkins whatever he calls for," and snatching up his hat, which was lying on the bar, Taylor left the saloon.

"What is it to be, sir?" asked Jerry, when they were alone.

"Whisky straight, if you please," was the prompt reply, "and, Jerry, I'll just step inside this door to drink it," and pushing open the door which led to the little stall-like rooms, he waited for Jerry to bring him his whisky there.

Mr. Tompkins was a cautious policeman, you see. He was careful – indeed, most anxious, not to bring reproach on the excellent body of men to which he belonged.

Jerry soon made his appearance with a liberal dose of "poison," which Tompkins swallowed as if he loved it, and then, with a cheerful good-day, he went out.

Neither Taylor nor Stark was in sight. The first, on emerging from the saloon, had hurried down the street. The other had let him get some distance ahead and then had followed him.

They kept on in this way until they had reached the vicinity of Bond Street and Broadway, when quickening his pace, Stark came up with Taylor, and slapping him on the back, said in a matter-of-fact tone:

"Mr. Taylor, I should be pleased with the favor of your company for a short distance."