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

"Yes, sir."

"Where did he go to?"

"To several places of no great importance, and finally he fetched round to the hotel again."

"How long ago was that?"

"Just now; he has just gone up to his room."

Old Spicer turned to the other detective.

"Where is Killett?" he asked.

"In room 36," was the reply.

"Ah! he saw that was his best chance to learn what was passing in 24. I wonder how he happened to tumble to that racket."

"I suspect the landlord put him up to it."

"No doubt. I had forgotten I told him what I wanted of the key. I think I'll go up to 36 at once. And you gentlemen be on hand in the neighborhood of 24, in case we may want you."

"All right, sir," and the three detectives ascended the first flight of stairs in company.

At the landing Quackenbush and the other detective left Old Spicer and placed themselves in the vicinity of Bissell's room. The old man ascended to the third floor, and, hastening to No. 36, knocked on the door.

"Who's there?" came in a low whisper from the other side.

"It's me, Adam – Old Spicer."

"Thank goodness!" and the door was hastily opened and the old detective admitted.

"I'm mighty glad you've come," whispered Killett, "you're just in time. Chamberlain has been waiting in the room under this ever since I've been here; but the man he came to see was out and has only just returned."

"I am fortunate, then," said Old Spicer.

"Yes, jump up on the table and mount one of the chairs."

Old Spicer did so, while Killett took possession of the other chair.

In another moment they were listening at the ventilator.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAMBERLAIN'S MYSTERIOUS FRIEND – A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE

"Of course, I'm making myself at home here," Chamberlain was saying. "Why shouldn't I, I'd like to know?"

"Well," returned another voice – Bissell's – "the fact is, when a gentleman goes out, he likes to feel that his private room is held sacred, even by his friends. I don't see what the landlord could have been thinking of to let you come up here."

"Why, he knew me – knew that whenever you were stopping here I had been in the habit of coming and going as I pleased; and so, when I told him I was tired and would like to come up here and rest while waiting for you, he made no objection. That's how it was."

"Well, I don't know that any great damage has been done this time, but I wish, Hen, as a general thing, you'd keep out of my room when I am not in it."

"Look here, Em Bissell, ain't you putting on more frills than your shirt front'll carry?"

"I fancy I know my business, sir. And now permit me to ask to what fortunate circumstance I am indebted for the pleasure of your company to-day?"

"Thunder! What's come over you, Em? Don't your food agree with you, man?"

"I'm all right; but to be plain with you, I should like to be alone."

"Oho! that's the way the wind sets, is it? Well, so far as I'm concerned, you'll be alone pretty blamed sudden. We've a little matter of business to transact first, however."

"What is it – if I may ask?"

"What is it! You know blamed well what it is. Just fork over that money I gave you the other day."

"Money? What money?"

"Look here, Em Bissell, don't you undertake to play any of your funny business on me. I gave you $22,000 on Monday to keep for me. I want it now, and by the Eternal! I'll have it, if I have to cut your black heart out to get it!"

Old Spicer turned to Killett, and a look of deep meaning passed between them.

"Move from your tracks, or lift a finger, Hen Chamberlain, and I ring this bell," exclaimed Bissell hastily, "and as sure as I do, I give you up as a murderer!"

"Pshaw! what do I care for your cursed bell and your threats? There's a dozen ways out of this hotel, and before a man could get to the top of one flight of stairs, I'd be at the bottom of another, and lost in the crowd on the avenue."

"Well, sir, if you are not out of this room inside of two minutes, you will have a chance to try that experiment provided you're alive to try it."

"Oho! you threaten my life, do you? See here, Bissell, before we go any further, just tell me why you have pretended to take such an interest in me during all these years; why you have nursed all my evil inclinations; why you have tempted me to commit crime after crime, and why, now that I have, at your suggestion, committed one that puts a noose about my neck, you turn against me?"

"Why does any man do such things?"

"From self-interest, I suppose, or, perhaps more often, to revenge some wrong."

"Exactly, and those two are the motives that have influenced me."

"But great Scott! man – I never injured you."

"Personally, you have not."

"Then what do you want to bring me to ruin for?"

"I want to strike another through you."

"Who, in the fiend's name?"

"Who do you suppose?"