Part 34

But when I came down from my room into the "office," or "bar-room," properly speaking, the young clerk said to me, "Would the stranger enter his name?" I had reflected, meanwhile, that I must see this Mr. Perkins, and had changed my original plan of proceedings a little, so I entered my name as "Dr. H. H. Hudson, Cin.," with a somewhat bold dash of the pen, and soon after found myself on the street, seeking the way to Mr. Perkins's house. While in the hotel I encountered, and had quite a long talk with one of the committee who had visited us in New York. He kept his promise, and did not "recognize" me, and perhaps he would not if he had known me. He told me the whole story of his visit to New York; what the detective said to him, and the rest of the committee; and, said he, "He was right when he said they were old burglars who were committing these outrages, for nobody but men hardened in crime could have robbed Mr. Perkins, as they did last night;" and when I went out of the tavern, after registering my name, to seek Mr. P.'s house, I encountered my committee-man. Again, as I was loitering on the street, hardly knowing what to do to learn the way to Mr. Perkins's, he had evidently looked on the register after my departure from the office or bar-room, for he accosted me.

"Ah, again! Happy to come across you again. Dr. Hudson, of Cincinnati, I hear?"

"Yes, sir," I replied; "a doctor by profession, but retired somewhat from practice."

"Yes, yes; yours is a pretty hard life, that of a doctor, sir. I suppose all you doctors in the city retire as soon as you get rich," said the facetious committee-man.

I replied, "that I had not retired from business exactly, for I was engaged more or less in speculation; but had always pursued the course of registering myself as a doctor at hotels, for I found that I generally got better treatment than when I registered in my plain name."

"Well, sir," said he, "I was thinking of going to call at friend Perkins's, and see how he's getting along. He's pretty low, I fear. As you are a doctor, perhaps you would like to accompany me. You might suggest something for his comfort."

I accepted the invitation with a half-reluctant manner, and we walked on towards Mr. Perkins's house, my friend, meanwhile, telling me all about Mr. P., his wealth, family affairs, etc. We were bidden to enter the house on knocking, and the committee-man was invited into the "bedroom" to see Mr. Perkins, from which he came soon out, and said,--

"I dare say you'd like to see Mr. Perkins. He is pretty severely bruised; but says he's better, and shall be out in a day or two. I told him I had a friend along with me, Dr. Hudson, of Cincinnati; and he says he don't need a doctor, but that he shall be glad to see you as a gentleman, and friend of mine." So I accompanied my friend to Mr. Perkins's room; and had hardly been presented to him before I made up my mind to take him into my counsels, for there was a certain frank nobility in his countenance, and an intelligence which quite won my esteem on the instant.

We conversed about the robbery, and, after that, about various topics of the day; and the more we talked, the more I liked him. By and by the committee-man recollected an engagement; said that he must go, but didn't want to interrupt Mr. Perkins's and my conversation; "for, doctor, I perceive," said he, "that you've made him very cheerful, without pills even. Sometimes I think there's more in a doctor than in his medicines," said he, with a very arch smile.

"O, no," said Mr. Perkins; "if you must go, you needn't take the doctor. He's a stranger here, and 'tisn't late yet, and he can find his way back easily enough."

And so I staid after the committee-man went out; and I talked with Mr. Perkins more about the robbery, and the burglaries, etc.; but I could get no occasion for private conversation with him, as the bed-room door, opening into a "sitting-room," was constantly open, and the sitting-room generally occupied by one or more persons, females, or else they were flitting back and forth; so at last I told Mr. Perkins that I had come to him on some business in regard to which I should like to consult him in the morning a little while, if he were well enough. He very kindly consented, and I departed.

On returning to the hotel, I was accosted at once by a gentleman, around whom stood a dozen other eager ones. "Doctor, you've been over to see Mr. Perkins, we hear; how's he getting along? Recover soon?"

"O, yes," said I; "he'll recover speedily if he is left quiet for a day or two. The neighbors, I hear, are running in to see him a great deal; but I think I shall order that nobody be admitted for a day or two."

Fortunately, Mr. Perkins's family physician had at this time gone to the funeral of his mother, whose home had been somewhere in Pennsylvania, and Mr. Perkins would not call either of the two other "doctors" of the place, styling them "blasted quacks." So that I could very properly say that.

I listened quite late that night to the villagers' talk about the robberies. Every new man who came into the bar-room had something to tell, and everybody had a theory; but they all declared that the burglars were old heads at the business--hard to catch, "as that New York detective told the committee," they said. Things were working well, and I finally retired to rest, and slept very soundly, to my surprise; for strange beds generally vex me, and keep me awake.

The next morning I called on Mr. Perkins early, and found him quite comfortable; asked him to order that neighbors who might be coming in to inquire for the state of his health, should not be allowed to enter his room; and though surprised at first at my request, he granted it, and I felt secure of a good, uninterrupted talk with him. I sounded him, to my satisfaction, in that he was a man who could keep a secret profoundly, and then made known my business to him. He was glad I had come, he said, and he would give me all the information in his power.

I inquired of everybody and everything in the place which could have any bearing on the matter in hand; learned the size, tones of voice, style of language, as far as he could remember, of his assailants, the highway robbers; gathered from him all I could of what had been overheard from the robbers' lips on various occasions; and I learned one especially important matter of him, which was, that one of the robbers was dressed in "a loose sack, like," and that in his contest with him, he thought that he felt that one of his hands, off from which a glove became slipped in the fight, was callous on the back. This he had not laid up in memory, but my questions called it to mind. At this point I developed my theory that the robberies were committed by residents of the village; and told him that they were not what professional robbers would call "good work," skilfully done; and then I asked him,--

"Now, Mr. Perkins, do you know any man in or about this place who has a scarred, hard hand, such as you describe?"

"Yes; but I would not dare mention his name in this connection, for he is an innocent, elegant young gentleman, very mild in his manners; came here a few months ago with the best recommendations from a clerical friend, an old schoolmate of mine, in Massachusetts, and bore a letter to me from him. O, I won't allow myself to name him; it would be too bad," said he.

"But," said I, "the greatest scoundrels steal the livery of heaven to serve the devil in, you know; and I am here to work, and you want the full truth to come out, hit where it may--don't you?"

"Yes; but it can't be this young man: and yet the villain was about his size."

"And wore a 'sack, like,' you say. Do you know if this young man has any such garment?"

"O, no, it was quite like a hostler's work coat. He hasn't anything of the sort."

"Well--no matter: please give me his name, and tell me all about him. What is he doing here?"

"Teaching music, principally; teaches most anything--the languages, especially French; says he has lived in France a while; but 'tain't he--and--if 'twas, I don't know but I should forgive him, if I knew it, as far as I am concerned, and let him go, or send him off; for he's engaged to a beautiful niece of mine, and first made her acquaintance here at my house. They had but just left when you called last night, and were full of sympathy for me. He is very active in devising plans to catch the villains, and has been out frequently with others, keeping night watch."

"Were there any robberies on the nights of such watching?" I asked.

"No; but I never suspected there would be, when so many were watching."

"Yet," said I, "from what I learn, the robberies have been very bold at times--early in the evening, when people were abroad."

"True," he replied. "I didn't think of that before. I wish I could have got at the scoundrels' faces that night; but their caps were securely tied on, and their faces blackened."

"They were white men, you are sure, then?"

"Yes; no doubt of that."

Finally, I persuaded Mr. Perkins to give me the man's name, as he knew, of course, I could now find it out by inquiring of somebody else, if I thought prudent to inquire.

We talked over the matter still further: and Mr. Perkins agreed to keep to his bed for two or three days. I was to reconnoitre, and report to him what I found out, and we were to consult together, and I left. I avoided making the acquaintance of the young man in question, although I had twenty occasions for so doing for a day or two; but on the night of the third day after my arrival another burglary took place, of considerable amount, and there was evidence, too, of an attempt at arson. In listening to the investigation of the burglary, I thought I saw that the young music teacher was as likely as anybody to have had a hand in it; and was confirmed in my suspicions by his manner, when I heard him talk it over next day with some friends at the hotel.

I managed to get near him, and spoke of the robberies as the most daring outrages, and suggested that there must be a gang of villains--old offenders--secreted near the village somewhere, or else they must, if coming from abroad, perform herculean feats of riding. But he told me he thought my theory was a mistake, as no strange horses or teams had ever been discovered in or near the village on the occasions of robbery; and entered very intelligently into the question, declaring at last that the villains must be caught if he himself were obliged, with others, to lie in wait for a year. There was something a little bombastic in his style as he said this, which confirmed my suspicions of him more and more. He told me he had heard of my attendance upon Mr. Perkins; was glad he had such skilful care, and that he seemed improving; and as he resorted there much himself, had hoped to meet me there, but had not happened to; was glad to have made my acquaintance, etc.; all of which was uttered with a very innocent, and indeed pleasant air, yet I suspected him, somehow, only the more.

Mr. Perkins kept apparently ill, and I visited him regularly. Two nights after my interview with the music teacher, as related above, I was going home from Mr. Perkins's to the hotel. (I should mention that the teacher, whose name in the village was Henry Downs,--but not his true name,--had called at Mr. Perkins's, and left a quarter of an hour before.) Going to the hotel, as I have said, I passed two men standing beside a large tree on the line of the sidewalk. The evening was very dark, and I only saw them when within six feet of them, perhaps, and I heard one of them say, "Ah, ha! the old fool is unsuspicious; we'll get another chance near home. A good night to-night, eh?" The voice was unmistakably that of the teacher, and I inferred that he alluded to Mr. Perkins. "Hush," I heard the other man say, as I approached in passing them; and I saw that the other man had on a "sack-like," such as Mr. Perkins had described. Of course I was now fully confirmed in my suspicions, and devised various plans to trap the villains, but nothing I could think of seemed likely to me or Mr. Perkins to prove practical. At last we hit upon this as a first step. I was to get ill enough to keep my room as Mr. Perkins got well. He was to visit me in turn, and was to consult the committee, who were greatly vexed all the while among themselves (as it appeared afterwards) that that 'rascally New York detective did not come on.' Mr. Perkins was to report me as a man of much wealth, with quite a sum of money, which I had brought intending to speculate, but having looked around, and not being satisfied with any real estate for sale there, was going away as soon as I recovered. This was noised about, and a week or so passed before I got up and was ready to go. Mr. Perkins, in the mean while, had come to my opinion that the music teacher was indeed the villain, and believing it his duty to expose him rather than shield him on his niece's account, entered quite spiritedly into my plans.

The music teacher was more attentive to me than ever when I met him, after it was said that I was rich; and at a little party which Mr. Perkins gave me the night before I was to leave, the teacher was all attention to me. It was given out that I should leave the next night, on the way north of the village, to call on a relative living about twenty miles from that village. I must be there, it was said, that night, to meet my friend from whom I had had a letter, and who would leave by the stage the next morning after; and for the next day Mr. Perkins and I had a ride of twenty miles and back to take in another direction to look at some mills in which he was persuading me to take an interest. Mr. Perkins was to loan me his horse for the night trip.

The ladies present said, some of them, that they hoped Dr. Hudson would not think of going in the night. "Just think of the robbers." I replied that robbers never touched doctors; that doctors never had any money about them; that they would not take my pills, I presumed, if I were to prescribe them regularly; and so we joked over the matter.

The next day Mr. Perkins and I, having ridden out of town, returned after dark, and after a good supper at his house, I paid my bills at the hotel, took his horse and sallied forth on my "night visit." I had not ridden over three miles, and was passing along a dark avenue lined with trees, when suddenly two men appeared before me, each grasping at a rein, and one presenting a pistol as near my head as he could reach, exclaimed, in a husky voice,--

"No noise, you old villain! Dismount!"

"Stop, stop!" said I, in a low voice. "Have mercy! What do you want of me?"

"Nothing of _you_--but your money," answered the husky voice. "Get off your horse quick, or I'll blow your brains out."

"I will, I will!" I whispered, with a voice that intimated trepidation, "but my leg is a little lame. Give me your hand to help," and extended my left hand, which he took in his left, still holding the pistol in his right. He had to extend his left hand quite high to help me, and I could not only feel, but see the scarred, hard hand--the same which Mr. Perkins had felt, and a like of which deformed the otherwise handsome music teacher. Of course his face, as well as his comrade's in crime, was muffled.

Having dismounted, they insisted on my giving them all my money. I consented without resistance, and pulled out my wallet, and handed him fifteen dollars--a ten dollar and a five dollar bill.

"Give us the rest," said the husky voice.

"Gentlemen," I said, "I have no more."

"It is a lie, doctor," said the husky voice. "We know all about you--we've watched you, and know that you brought hundreds of dollars to the village below."

"I did," I said; "that is true enough; but my patient, Mr. Perkins, and I took a ride to his mills to-day, and when there I invested what I had, all but enough to pay my bills about here and get back again."

"But we must search you."

I said "Very well," and they did search me most thoroughly, and took my bull's-eye silver watch (not very valuable in itself, but the gift of an old brother detective, who had since died. Said he, as he gave it to me, "Don't let anybody rob you of that," with a laugh; and I thought how funny it would seem to him, were he alive, to find _me_ parting with it under _such_ circumstances).

The robbers let me go, saying they had no use for the horse, and bade me have more money about me next time. Said they'd been called pretty severe and cruel on certain occasions, but that they were gentle enough with folks that didn't make foolish resistance, etc. Indeed, they tried to be jocular with me; and I submitted to their course, and joined in it, as the best way. They bade me a hearty good night, but enjoined me not to stop anywhere and mention my loss till to-morrow, or they'd find some way to dispose of me if I did, with like threats; and then darted off into the side fields, bidding me to "go ahead," however; and I rode on for some three miles, but fortunately, when riding with Mr. Perkins that day, I had noticed a cross road, which would lead into the road on which he and I had come out of and returned into the town. I was meditating, at the time I came upon it, what to do. Should I ride back furiously over the road on which I was robbed, the villains might waylay me again, for, perhaps, they were not far off--may be were watching. Perhaps they might fire upon me; but luckily here was the cross road, and I darted down it, and found my way back into the village by the old road, and you may be sure that my horse, if horses have memories, did not soon forget that night's race, for I put him to the top of his speed. I alighted at the barn of Mr. Perkins, and fortunately found there his "hired man," who clapped the horse into the stable at once, and I then felt secure. Getting access at once to Mr. Perkins, I narrated my adventure. He was not astounded at what I had learned, for he had for some time believed, as I, that the music teacher was the man, but he was confounded that the villains let me off so easily.

The next thing was to catch the scamps, and make the evidence against them sure; and Mr. Perkins, at my suggestion, sent his man out to call four of the most trusty citizens, two of whom chanced to be of the original committee who waited upon my partner and me in New York, to come to his house at once. To them, when they came, was intrusted his plan. "Dr. Hudson" was now announced as the partner-detective whom they had seen in New York. He, too, had been robbed, and he knew who were the robbers--or one of them! Greater astonishment than these gentlemen evinced at this disclosure could not well be expressed. But we did not speak to them of the music teacher. They were to remain at Mr. Perkins's till we should call them. Making some change in my dress by aid of articles borrowed of Mr. Perkins, and of my countenance by assuming a pair of false whiskers which I had brought with me, besides a hat very unlike what I had been wearing in the village, and Mr. Perkins disguising himself, we went forth, and placed ourselves where we could readily perceive any comer to the house at which the music teacher boarded. Patiently we watched. Two hours or more went by, when a man came from the opposite course by which we expected him, and, proceeding to the door of the house, evidently lightly tried it--could not get in; went around the corner of the house, noiselessly raised a side window, and as noiselessly mounted in. I was not over thirty feet from him as he entered, and notwithstanding the darkness, I felt sure I knew him, though he did not wear the sack. Mr. Perkins had seen his stealthy entry, too, from another point, and in a few minutes we came together, I having meanwhile slid up by the side of the house next to the window, and heard the in-comer open or close a window above. He had already gone to his room, which Mr. Perkins had told me was at the back of the house. He knew the way to it--had called on the young man there.

We proceeded at once to Mr. Perkins's, instructed our waiting friends what to do,--for we might need aids,--and asked them to follow. No man was to speak a word, but do as he was bidden.

My dark lantern was lit and deposited under my cloak, and we went out, along down the street, across another,--down another a little way, and I saw that the citizens were occasionally looking wonder into each other's eyes, as much as to say, Where are we going? We arrived at the house, entered the yard. Mr. Perkins, by our arrangements, was to take and post two of the men under the villain's window, to catch him in case he should try to escape, to one of whom he gave a pistol, saying, "Catch any man who tries to escape out of this house. Shoot him, if necessary."

Up to this point not a word had been said to them of the music teacher. We had thought best to not knock for admission, of course; and I got in at the window where the villain had entered, proceeded to the little hall, unlocked silently the front door, and let in Mr. P. and the two other men. "Follow me softly," whispered Mr. P., and he led to the villain's room.

An hour had passed since we saw him come in, and we concluded he'd be asleep, as he was. We carefully tried the door: it was locked by a button. Mr. Perkins whispered to me, "Shall we rap, and catch him when he rises?"

"No, no," I answered quickly; and with a dash against the door with my shoulders, easily effected entrance. The villain started wildly. I threw the dazzling light of my dark lantern into his face, and rushed upon him in bed, clutched his throat, and cried, "Seize his clothes, and everything in the room! This is the man. Open the window, and call in the others to the show;" and Mr. Perkins did so.

In an instant the two men had found their way up to the room; and, in fact, the whole household was by this time aroused. We made speedy work of searching the wretch's clothes, and among other money found the five dollar bill taken from me. Without explanation, I passed it to Mr. Perkins, who recognized a peculiar mark we had made upon it, its date, etc. But the ten dollar bill was found in the villain's trunk, together with quite a sum of money. Mr. Perkins recognized the marks we had placed upon that: the watch was not to be found.

The teacher was a lithe, muscular fellow, and would have given me, alone, much trouble to hold him; but he was overwhelmed, and did little else but groan. We at once told him of the marked bills, etc., and pointed out to him that his best course now was to expose his accomplice or accomplices; that the bitterest curses of the law would fall upon him if he did not.

The pale, trembling fellow, a real coward at heart, as many such villains are, made his confession on the spot, notes of which were taken down by me, and by one of the committe-men in his diary. He told us that his accomplice was----, a son of a pretty well-to-do farmer, whose name I cannot mention, and whose relations still reside in the village--most estimable people, which is the reason why I have carefully avoided mentioning the name of the place.

When he named his accomplice, one of the committee-men groaned audibly (I should say that we had kept the inmates of the house out of the room during this confession), for the accomplice, it appears, was that committee-man's nephew!--a much-esteemed, industrious young man, led away by the brilliancy, dash, and superior education of the music teacher.

But where was the watch? The teacher told us. Under a barn belonging to his accomplice's father, and not ten rods from his residence, was a place of deposit for such things as they could not readily dispose of. Indeed, they had disposed of but little: there he thought we could find it, and there, next morning, we did.