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

"Who the devil are you?" exclaimed Taylor, turning upon him with a start.

"I am an officer of the law and you are my prisoner," was the stern reply.

"I don't know about that."

"I do. And let me tell you, Jimmie, it will be best for you to go along with me quietly, understand?"

"Where are you going to take me to?"

"The central office."

"What for?"

"Mr. Byrnes is anxious to have a good look at you."

"He won't get much out of me."

"That's all right. Every man has a right to keep his mouth shut and his tongue still if he can."

"Well, I can."

"It's nice to have a good opinion of one's self, Jimmie. And now step off a little faster, if you please."

Taylor apparently had given up all thoughts of resisting, and walked on by the detective's side without another word.

On arriving at the central office he was locked up, and a letter purporting to be signed by him, was sent to his saloon, informing Jerry that he had suddenly been called out of town on business and would not be back that night.

All this having been accomplished, Stark hastened back to the place where Old Spicer and Killett had established their headquarters, and reported.

He then went out to make the rounds between the three points at which it was suspected Chamberlain would be most likely to show up, namely, Cora Bell's rooms, his own boarding-place, and his lodging-house.

Shortly after he had gone out Crowley made his appearance, and a single glance at his face convinced both Killett and Old Spicer that something of importance had happened.

"Ah, sir, you're welcome," said Old Spicer; "take a seat at the table here."

"Thank you, sir," and stepping forward, the new-comer sat down.

CHAPTER XVIII.

OLD SPICER'S SPEAKING-TUBE

"Well, Crowley, what have you to offer?" asked Killett, with a great show of interest.

"We have tracked Hawks and Klinkhammer, by different routes, to the same hotel – a quiet affair uptown," was the answer.

"And are they there now?"

"Yes; closeted in No. 24 with a guest."

"Is the guest a new arrival?" asked Old Spicer.

"I was told not – that is, he has occupied his room, off and on, for several months."

"Off and on, eh? That is, he goes and comes as he pleases."

"Exactly."

"Humph! What's his name?"

"Bissell – E. E. Bissell he signs himself."

"Young or old?"

"Young – that is, under thirty."

"Who's on duty there?" asked Killett.

"Rouse and Quackenbush."

"Well, Old Spicer, one of us ought to look after this matter, while the other waits for news of Chamberlain here."

"I believe I'd better go up to the hotel," said Old Spicer, after a moment's reflection.

"Very good, then, I'll stay here."

"We can keep each other posted as to our movements, eh?"

"Certainly, and we should be careful to do so."

"All right; I will go with Crowley, then, unless you want him here."

"I was just going to suggest that I might want him."

"All right, you keep him, and I'll find my way to the hotel alone;" and Old Spicer went out.

He took the elevated road up town and soon arrived at the hotel.

He found Quackenbush on the lookout, and learned from him that Rouse was endeavoring to catch some fragments of the conversation that was going on in No. 24.

"What!" he exclaimed, "isn't he in the next room?"

"No," was the reply, "there is no chance for that. On one side there is a short hall, a passageway, and on the other a room that is occupied by a gentleman and his wife."

"Hum. Well, there must be a room overhead."

"Lord, yes. I never thought of that."

Old Spicer hurried to the landlord, who happened to be in the office.