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

"That's Pete Coffey," whispered Barney. Then, as the boat came into view, "I wonder who he's got with him?"

No one spoke again until the boat was alongside the schooner.

"Here, take the painter," called out Pete, "and make it fast," and he threw the end of the rope on board.

A sailor caught it and fastened it accordingly.

"Clarky," then said Pete to his companion in the boat, "you stay here," and the next moment he himself was on board the schooner.

He seemed astonished to see Barney and Bissell, and looked upon Bunce with some show of suspicion.

"What's up with you fellows?" he asked. "And who is this chap?"

"We've been driven out of New York, and have got to skip the country," answered Barney.

"And the long and short of it is," Bissell hastened to add, "you must find some safe place in which to secrete us until the schooner is ready for sea."

"Hum! I don't know about you, Mr. Bissell."

"Don't know about me! What do you mean, sir?"

"I don't think it's particularly safe to have anything to do with you. I've noticed that whoever has worked with you, or for you, has been fetched up with a round turn sooner or later, and that you always get off scot-free."

"Come, come, Pete," said Barney hastily, "if you've got any grudge against Emory, it's no time to show it now, when we're all in serious trouble. Just lay it aside till we're in smooth water again."

"Well, for your sake, Barney, I suppose I must do what I can for the crowd; but I tell you what, old fellow, it goes awfully against the grain to do anything for that smooth-tongued traitor."

"Come, come, Pete," said Bissell, in his most plausible tone, "if I've offended you in any way I'm ready and willing to make it all right with you. And now tell us, where can you put us for a night and a day?"

"First, I want to know who this stranger is. You'll please to remember that I haven't been introduced to him yet."

"Excuse me, Pete," Barney hastened to say. "It's Bill Bunce, a friend of mine; you've heard me speak of him;" and then he explained how he happened to be with them.

Pete heard him through to the end; then, with some show of interest, he asked:

"Do I understand you to say that that slippery Jew, Jake Klinkhammer, has really passed in his checks at last?"

"Yes, poor Jake got something in his stomach that he couldn't very well digest, and so he was obliged to throw up the sponge."

"The deuce! whose turn will it be next, I wonder? Do you know, Barney, they're after me, hot and heavy, for that little job in the Stony Creek railway station?"

"They are! But they can't fasten anything on to you."

"I don't know about that; they've got half a dozen men on my track, and if they can't find any evidence against me, they'll manufacture some. Leave the hounds alone for that."

"Is it really so bad, Pete?"

"You just bet it is. And, by the way, cap'n, one thing I came out to say is, that for your sake, as well as my own, I daresn't help you land the liquor or store it away to-night."

"Thunder!" exclaimed the captain, "what'll I do, then?"

"I've got two friends – safe fellows, who are working in the quarry as a blind; they'll help you, and do whatever I could do myself."

"Ah! but where are they now?"

"Waiting in my boat-house – you know the spot."

"Yes, where we usually land, ain't it?"

"That's the place."

"Well, is everything clear to get to work now?"

"Yes, I've given my regular attendants the slip to-night, and you can go ahead with your work as soon as you've a-mind to, and I'll go ahead with mine. Now, then, gentlemen, I'm ready to pilot you to a safe place whenever you're ready to accompany me."

"We're ready now," said Barney, with alacrity. "Let's get into the boat without a moment's delay."

"All right, jump in," and Barney quickly clambered over the schooner's gunwale, and slipped down into the boat.

"Are you sure it's safe for us to land – sure there's no one on the lookout for us?" asked Bissell, nervously.

"Sure as I can be of anything," answered Pete. "At any rate, it's safer than it is for you to stay here, so go ahead," and Bissell let himself down into the boat, and was quickly followed by Bill Bunce, Pete himself bringing up in the rear.

"Where's your togs, gentlemen?" asked Pete, looking about the bottom of the boat as he took his seat.

"What we managed to get away with, we've left on board the schooner," answered Barney. "She expects to get to sea to-morrow night, you know, and we thought it wouldn't be worth while to bring anything ashore for so short a time."

"All right, you ought to know best, but I can't fit you all out with clean shirts and collars, understand."

"Oh, don't let that worry you, my good friend," said Bissell, with a good deal of effusion, "we will excuse you, and do very well, I have no doubt."

Clarky remained silent – indeed, he hardly spoke even when Pete addressed him, but worked away at his oar as if his very life depended upon it.

Presently they reached the shore and landed.

Pete addressed a few words to Clarky in a low tone, and then turning to his other companion, said:

"All ready; come on," and at once started up a narrow pathway, at some distance from the main road.

Bissell, with some curiosity, looked back.

He saw Clarky haul the boat well up out of the water and fasten it to a stake. He then saw him start toward a little clump of trees, where the faint outlines of a boat-house could just be seen.

Pete walked on rapidly, and it was all his friends could do to keep up with him.

They kept on in this way for almost half an hour, when they came to what appeared to be a deserted stone-quarry.

Pete now turned to the left, and they skirted this quarry for some distance until they came to a little cluster of huts or shanties, most of them, like the quarry, deserted.