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

"Take it quietly, gentlemen, I beg," said Old Spicer, in his usual tones. "The jig's up. I acknowledge that you have shown a good deal of skill and made us some trouble; but we'...

The detective now seated himself close to the partition between the two rooms, took out his pad of paper and his pen, and prepared to listen with all his ears to what might be g...

Old Spicer put out his hand and drew his young companion close to his side, in order that he might not lose a single word of what was about to be spoken.

He resided there alone--that is, so far as family was concerned, for Mrs. Hettie Catlin, the widow of Frederic Catlin, was still his housekeeper, and they kept one servant-of-al...

After a word or two with Coroner Mix, who was standing in the outer hall, Old Spicer ascended to the main floor of the house, where he questioned Otto Webber and his wife, and t...

He led the way toward the room in which the trap door was situated. But in passing the bar-room, he saw, through the open door, three men grouped together in chairs, while a cof...

"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...

"I have no objection to giving you my ideas," returned Bollmann, "you see of late, the old woman had become more grasping than ever. She didn't care who came here so long as the...

"And so do I," exclaimed Stricket. "It makes me mad even now when I think of the way they managed such splendid cases as the Jennie Cramer, Rose Ambler, and half a dozen others...

There was the slightest possible movement at the foot of the bed, and then, just as the mining company's treasurer was about to pull the trigger, a blow descended on his breast,...

After a moment's waiting, he heard light footsteps approaching from an inner room; then the door opened, and a young woman about twenty-two years of age, with a fine form and a...

As Old Spicer stepped from the train in the Grand Central Depot, a hand closed about his arm and he was drawn out of the crowd and led by a roundabout way into Vanderbilt Avenue...

Hurrying down Grand Street, they turned into a side street, and, after walking some distance, stopped before a dingy-looking building; then, with a hasty glance around, they ent...

Old Spicer and Morgan had hardly passed out of the tunnel into the sub-cellar, when the little flight of five steps, leading from the trap under the table to the entrance of the...

The day passed, the night came on, and out of the gloom the passenger on board the schooner caught glimpses of the many islands that go to make up the Thimble group.

"It strikes me," replied Old Spicer, "that there must be some other means of entrance and exit to this sub-cellar known to and controlled by the frequenters of the great vault."

"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."

The Bouncing Betsey was beating her way up the Sound in the face of a head wind, and hence her progress was aggravatingly slow. There were a goodly number of craft in sight, but...

"The house I have just left, where Cora Bell makes it her home, the boarding-house No. 305 West Twelfth Street, and the building at the corner of Hudson and Morton streets."

"How'd he manage to get away? confound you!" exclaimed Crowley, turning upon the reporter in the bitterness of his soul. "He managed it while my back was turned answering your n...

"It may be the devil's hole, as you say," answered Pete. "In fact, I have sometimes thought it was myself. At all events, the devil takes better care of his own in there than I'...

"He's badly hurt, but I reckon he'll come out all right in the end. Now let's look at this pile of carrion," and he turned to where the dead and wounded of the enemy were lying.

"George has been talking about the seven handkerchiefs. He has told you that some, if not all of them, belong to women. I can tell you what woman one of them, at least, belongs...

At the second shot, Jake Klinkhammer fell, with a dismal groan. And hastily calling upon George to light their own lamp, the old detective stooped down to raise up the supposed...

"Don't know," was the reply; "hasn't been around much for the past two or three days. Him and his chum are having a pretty loud time of it, I reckon."

"No matter, I can find her if I should happen to want to see her. But one question more: Hen isn't Hen when he travels in New York, I'm told?"