CHAPTER XIII.

OLD SPICER AND KILLETT IN TAYLOR'S SALOON.

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, and so into a quiet room of the hotel on the corner.

"That was very well done, Adam," said the old detective to his companion, when they were both comfortably seated. "I don't quite see how you managed it."

"Oh, it's easy enough when you know how," returned Detective Killett with a smile. "And now that we are here by ourselves, tell me what's up."

"You received my telegram all right?"

"Yes. I happened to be at the office, and so received it in less than a quarter of an hour after you sent it."

"That's better than the telegraph people usually do."

"You're right, Mark; but they're learning not to fool much time with our office. They're beginning to find out that it isn't healthy."

"I'm glad to hear it. And now tell me, my good friend, can you devote a little time to me for a day or so?"

"Most certainly. But let me ask again, what's up? Your message, you know, gave me no sort of idea."

"True. Well, I'll tell you. We've had a murder in our place--a most cowardly affair."

"That sort of thing happens pretty often up your way, doesn't it?"

"Well, we do seem to have more than our fair share of cowardly murders and kindred crimes; but this was a peculiar case--a most unnecessary killing."

"The victim was an old woman--a Jewess or a German, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

"Kept a low barroom or something of the sort?"

"You're right, the place was a regular dive, but had been carried on with so much secrecy that even the police never really knew what was going on there."

"Hum, have you any idea who the murderer or murderers were?"

"I know this much: they came up from New York--probably that very evening, and it's more than likely returned the same night."

"Hum, New York parties, eh?"

"Yes; but I think one of them must have been pretty well acquainted in our city, and particularly well acquainted with the murdered woman and her establishment."

"You have no idea who he is?"

"He is called Hen, and has a young lady friend, with whom he is pretty intimate, somewhere on Sixth Avenue, in this city. That's all I know."

Detective Killett became very thoughtful.

At length he asked:

"How did you gain this much information?"

Old Spicer informed him.

"Oho!" exclaimed Killett, when he had finished, "that was the way of it, eh? Then your men are as good as bagged."

"How's that?" asked Spicer, eagerly.

"It's plain enough," was the answer. "You will know Barney Hawks and Jake Klinkhammer whenever and wherever you see them again, I suppose?"

"Most decidedly, yes."

"Well, trust me, they will be making for this city as soon as they've had an interview with that Sadie Seaton. If you had gone to her, most likely she would have lied to you; but she will tell these villains just where Hen and his pal can be found. We must, therefore, be on hand to receive them when they arrive, and follow them wherever they go till they lead us to our game, then, at the right moment, we can bag the whole lot."

"Killett, you're a trump. I salute you!"

"Thanks, Mark. Such a compliment, from the very prince of detectives, is particularly agreeable."

"You are worthy of the best compliment I can pay, old friend. And now let's see: when does the next train arrive?"

"Seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock; they won't be on that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite so."

"Couldn't they have caught it?"

"Hardly."

"Why not?"

"They would be detained some time with the girl; and then, I fancy, they would be too shrewd to take the train at New Haven."

"You're right, by Jove! Now what station would they be most likely to get on at?"

"Either Woodmont or Milford; and as Woodmont is a small place, and Milford quite a town, for obvious reasons, I think they would go to the latter."

"Doubtless. Well, the next train leaves Milford at 5.31, and arrives here at eight o'clock. Can they have caught that?"

"Quite easily, I should say."

"Then we must have a sharp eye on the passengers arriving by that train."

"But it is usually quite a long train, I believe; and there are so many ways of getting out of the Grand Central Depot--can we two manage the thing alone?"

"I was just thinking of that, and I fancy we had better have a little help. Do you remember Stark?"

"What--your old friend, Silas?"

"The same."

"Yes, I remember him well."

"Glad to hear it. You've no objection to my calling him in?"

"None in the world. I shall be glad to have his assistance."

"Then I'll send for him and Rouse. It so happens they are in this neighborhood. Excuse me a moment, and I'll telephone for them," and Detective Killett left the room.

In a few moments he returned, and ten minutes later Silas Stark and Reuben Rouse entered the apartment.

Old Spicer minutely described Barney and Jake, and both Silas and Reub thought they should recognize them without the slightest trouble.

But Killett suddenly started a possible difficulty.

"These fellows are cunning rascals," he said; "ten to one, when they land, they will be disguised."

"Right, by Jove!" exclaimed Old Spicer; "and if they are as cunning as I think they are, they'll separate, and reach their objective point from different directions."

"Just so; and we must be prepared for any such little game." Then, turning to the man he called his right bower:

"Silas," he asked, "do you think you can penetrate any disguise they may assume?"

"I fancy I shall know that Hawks, sir," was the answer; "for, if I am not greatly mistaken, I have seen the villain more than once already."

"And you, Rouse?"

"I reckon I can get on to the Jew, sir," replied Reub.

"How'll you know him?"

"I shall know him by his nose, sir. He can't disguise that, I take it."

Both Killett and Old Spicer laughed.

"A good ear-mark to go by," observed the latter.

"Ear-mark, eh? I shouldn't have thought to call it by that name."

"It's about time for the seven o'clock train to arrive," said Killett, suddenly; "any use in going over, think?"

"It will do no harm," returned Old Spicer; "but, as I said before, it's hardly possible for them to have caught it."

"No matter, let's go across any way," and the quartet of detectives went over to the depot, and planting themselves at different points, waited for the train.

Very soon it came rolling in, and every passenger was brought under the eye of one or the other of the quartet.

At length the last had gone, and neither Barney nor Jake had been seen.

They went back to the hotel and held another consultation, which lasted for nearly an hour.

Again, as the pointers of Old Spicer's faithful watch indicated that the hour of eight had almost arrived, they crossed over to the depot and stationed themselves as before.

Presently the train came in, and the passengers began to crowd their way out of it and hasten toward the street.

Soon Barney and Jake made their appearance, disguised in the overcoats and hats "borrowed" from the rack in the hall of the murdered Marsden's house.

Old Spicer, who, during the past hour had carefully disguised himself, and Silas Stark caught sight of them at the same time.

The precious pair walked for some distance toward the exit, conversing together in low and hurried tones. Then they separated, Jake pressing on ahead, and ascending to the elevated railway station, while Barney passed out on to Forty-second Street, and hurried toward Sixth Avenue.

Old Spicer made a signal to Killett, and the two followed Barney.

Seeing this, Silas Stark motioned to Reub, and together they hurried up-stairs after Jake.

Barney kept on toward Sixth Avenue, little suspecting who was behind him.

He ascended to the elevated station at the corner of the avenue and Forty-second Street, on the down-town side, and was the first to board a train that stopped just as he reached the platform.

A moment later the two famous detectives were in the same car.

Barney paid no attention to the other passengers, but turning his head, gazed steadfastly out of the window.

At the station nearest to Christopher Street, he got off, and hurrying down that street, turned into Hudson. Then he began looking for No. 515, the two detectives still close behind him.

At length he found the saloon, and after one hasty glance, entered it.

Old Spicer and Killett approached the door. A hard-looking bummer was loafing on the outside, waiting for some one, or any one, out of whom he might beat a drink.

"Who runs this establishment?" asked Killett.

"Jimmie Taylor," was the prompt reply.

"Ah! Jimmie Taylor, eh? Guess this will do for us. Let's go in and have something."

"Thank ye, sir, I don't mind if I do," exclaimed the bum, with alacrity.

"I wasn't speaking to you, sir," laughed Killett. "However, come along; I don't mind planting another nail in your coffin."

They entered, and discovered Barney at a table in a corner, with a glass of whisky before him.

"Barkeeper," said Killett, "give this fellow what he calls for, and bring us two sours to the table over there;" and they took seats at some little distance from Barney, but within earshot, provided any one should speak to him.

The "bum" ordered a whisky straight, and when he had been supplied with his favorite fluid, the barkeeper built the sours and took them to his waiting customers.

While he was receiving his pay, Barney made a slight motion to him with his hand, which Old Spicer caught, and at once prepared to see what came of it.

The barkeeper turned and went over to the corner.

"Listen with all your ears now," said Old Spicer, in a low and rapid whisper, "for the time has come for us to learn something."

"I'm ready to drink it all in," replied his companion, quietly.