Mr. Pinkerton again interviews Le Compte.—And very much desires to wring his Neck.—A Bargain and Sale.—Le Compte's Story.—"Little by Little, Patience by Patience."—A Toronto Merchant in Mrs. Winslow's Toils.—Detective Bristol, "the retired Banker," in Clover.—Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah individually and collectively woo him.—Ancient Maidens full of Soul.—A Signal.
Mr. Pinkerton again interviews Le Compte.—And very much desires to wring his Neck.—A Bargain and Sale.—Le Compte's Story.—"Little by Little, Patience by Patience."—A Toronto Merchant in Mrs. Winslow's Toils.—Detective Bristol, "the retired Banker," in Clover.—Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah individually and collectively woo him.—Ancient Maidens full of Soul.—A Signal.
NO jury in the land would render a verdict against a man on the unsupported evidence of a woman whose character was so vile as we had already found Mrs. Winslow's to be; and I would have paid no further attention to the little Frenchman, had I not suspected from his expensive style of living, and from Mrs. Winslow's injunctions to him regarding not swindling her in so small a matter as a bottle of wine, that his necessities and cupidity might cause him to make some tangible disclosure regarding her, that would give us a clue to other information against her further than that which Bangs would probably secure in the West, as I never use detective evidence when it can be avoided, and knew that a perfect mountain of criminal transactions could be eventually heaped up against her which could be secured from reliable parties, who could have no other possible interestin her downfall than a desire to promote the personal good of society.
Le Compte did not desire to see me again, and had made strenuous efforts to prevent it and secure a surreptitious interview with Lyon instead. Failing in this, at the last moment, I had received a very terse note from him to the effect that he did not desire to transmit any statement by mail, but would take it as an honor, etc., if I would call at his place at ten o'clock, Monday morning, which I did, finding the little fellow in a gorgeous dressing-gown, freshly shaved, and in a neat and orderly state generally.
"Well, my young friend," said I, "I suppose you have decided to give me some information this morning."
"Do I get good pay?" he asked in response.
"You will get good pay if you have a good article for sale," I replied.
"Humph!" he responded, with a soft shrug of his delicate shoulders.
"Are you ready to make such a sale?" I asked.
"But where comes my money?" inquired Le Compte, suspiciously.
"It is right here," I answered, slapping my pocket in a hearty way.
"But suppose it shall stay there, then where is Le Compte?" he persisted with a doleful look which was irresistibly funny.
"Itwillstay there," I replied, "in case you attempt to play any of your tricks, my little fellow."
"How shall I then know I am to be paid?"
"You will have to take my word for it."
"But I have not pleasure in your acquaintance; how can I be sure?" he continued anxiously.
"Le Compte, swindler as you are, youknowthat I am an honest man. This quibbling is utterly foolish and simple. I am acting entirely for Mr. Lyon in this matter, and should you write to him or call upon him a hundred times, you would get nothing from him but a bluff. Here are your two notes," I continued, producing them, "one written Saturday, the other yesterday. The only response you got to them was, silence—and this interview. I thought we understood each other already."
I saw that he was still undecided about saying whatever he might have to say, and tenacious of sustaining his professional reputation as a clairvoyant. I might have easily frightened him into submission by the slightest reference to the occurrences of the previous day, but knew that this would have the effect of putting Mrs. Winslow on her guard, as she was already becoming suspicious and anxious, and preferred getting at his communication in the ordinary way. After he had sat musing for a time he suddenly asked:
"How great will be my pay?"
"What do you think the information is worth?" I said.
He looked at me as if fixing a price in his mind that I would stand, and replied:
"Certain, a thousand dollars."
"That is a good deal of money, Le Compte," I saidpleasantly. "I hardly think you can divulge a thousand dollars' worth. But if you can give me reliable information of a satisfactory character, I think I could pay you three hundred dollars.
"Now?" he inquired, suddenly.
"Oh, no, oh, no," I replied as quickly; "no, sir,notuntil we find the information you give is reliable."
This dampened the little fellow wonderfully, but he finally said: "Well, the evidence is certain, but I must offer it to you by clairvoyance," and he immediately arose and began darkening the room as on the previous interview, which act I interrupted by stepping to the window he had just darkened, and jerking the curtain as high as it would roll, opening the window, and flinging the blinds open with a slam.
"You little villain!" I shouted, advancing upon him threateningly, "I will wring your neck if you don't stop this contemptible nonsense!" while he slunk into the corner, like the mean coward that he was. I could scarcely keep my hands off the little puppy; but recollecting that I was there for quite another purpose, I said:
"Le Compte, this is the last time I shall come here, and it is the last time you will have an opportunity of making a dollar out of any information you may possess. Now, sir," I said, savagely, starting towards the door, "you will give it to me, trusting entirely to my honor to pay you for it, or you will never get a cent for it on earth."
"You little villain!" I shouted, advancing upon him threateningly:—
The little fellow turned towards me imploringly, with"Please don't go. My dear sir, you are so greatly abrupt. We have no men like you in La Belle France."
"Heaven knows, I hope but fewlikeyou," I responded. "Now, which is it, yes, or no? I will give you just thirty seconds in which to answer," and I timed him, thoroughly resolved to do as I had said.
Before the expiration of the time mentioned, Le Compte sat down, and with a despairing shrug of the shoulders, said "Yes."
I immediately returned, sat down in front of him, and said, "Well, Le Compte, now go ahead with your story like a man."
"What must it be like?" he asked innocently.
"What must it be like?" I repeated, aghast. "Why, you don't intend to manufacture a story for me against this woman, do you?"
"Oh, no, no, never. But I must know first how bad it must be, when it is worth three hundred dollars, which you call such great money?"
"Well," said I, all out of patience, "if you know of any occasion when this woman has been with any man as his wife, or his mistress, and can give names, dates, and places, and under what circumstances, and this information on examination proves so reliable that we can get other witnesses besides yourself—persons of credibility and reputation—to testify to it, I will pay you three hundred dollars. Isn't that plain enough?"
"Will you put it to paper?"
"No, sir, you have my word for it, that's all."
Le Compte tapped the floor with his delicate foot a moment, and I saw the impostor was in real misery. He had a sort of affection for the woman, which she had more than reciprocated. He could lean on the strong, daring nature she possessed, and go to her with all his troubles and disappointments and get help. She had promised him that, as soon as she had mulcted Lyon of the hundred thousand dollars, he should share it with her in his own beautiful Paris. All his self-interest laid in and with the woman; but need for money was pressing, and there were a million other women as impressible to his charms as she had been. Here was an opportunity to make a few hundred dollars by betraying her; but in doing so he still might not get the money, and she might at once discover from what source the information had come, and he knew enough about Mrs. Winslow to be sure that she dared any mode of revenge that best suited her fancy, and he had a wholesome fear of her. I could see that all these things were flitting through his mind, as plainly as the reader can see them upon this printed page, and to some extent pitied his weakness and indecision.
"Or," said I encouragingly, "as you undoubtedly know Mrs. Winslow intimately, and are very much in her company, if you know of any occasion when she had, while here in Rochester or in the vicinity, say Batavia, Syracuse, or Port Charlotte, for instance, gone with some one of her many favorites, and under an assumed name—Brown, Jones, or anything of the kind—to a hotel where they had been assigned a room, and had occupied it togetherfor several hours, and you could put us on track of persons of reliability who would be willing to come into court and swear to such facts—I presume there are many persons who could and would with whom you are acquainted—I would pay you the amount named at once."
This was cutting pretty close to a tender subject, and before I had half finished my remarks he started, and looked me in the face in a suspicious, apprehensive manner, eyeing me closely until I had finished. But my manner and looks betraying no knowledge on my part of any such facts hinted at, he relapsed into a puzzled, nonplussed look that was really ridiculous.
"No, no," he said slowly and cautiously. "I have no such valuable evidence. That would be much more worth than a thousand dollars—much more worth. But I can do what you first say, and rest me on the honor of your word."
"Go on, then," said I.
"Well, we shall go back almost a year. I met first Mrs. Winslow at Port Charlotte, when she was from Canada returning."
"Did she formerly live in Canada?" I asked.
"No, not for a great time; but has had much travel and friends there. I first see her at Charlotte. I go there to take a boat. She comes from the boat there. Lyon meets her, and I think her his wife, he is so much happy. I like her so much that I do not take the boat. I follow her back to the city here, and find her beautiful rooms, when I discover she is not Lyon's wife, but hismistress; but I still have for her admiration, and one day she comes to me for her future in clairvoyance."
"And then she became your mistress?" I inquired, smiling at his earnestness.
"No, no, no—never!" he replied quickly, growing red as a rose; "I became herfriend!"
Le Compte did not know how near he came to expressing the truth while endeavoring to avoid it, but continued:
"I became her friend, and we came to each other for advice. She has great faith—great faith," repeated Le Compte, with much emphasis on the expression, which seemed to please him, "in my clairvoyance powers. I give her much comfort. She gives me great confidence of her affairs, and shows me how rich Lyon makes her. I see her often—very often, at the Hall and here in my apartments. She gives me much confidence of her affairs still, and I am informed when she makes Canada some visits. She goes much to Canada, and I ask her why? She does not tell me, but laughs in my face, and shows me much money, which she ever brings back. I shake my finger at her so (illustrating), and say to her: 'You cannot hide from Le Compte,' which she answers: 'No, I will not. I go for money. See!'—when she would shake many bills in my face—'I make him come down, too!'"
"Did she give you the man's name?"
"Igotit," continued Le Compte proudly, "with much wine—andclairvoyance!"
"Oh, confound your eternal clairvoyance!" said I. "I want the facts."
"But I got factswithclairvoyance," persisted the imperturbable Le Compte. "Little by little, patience by patience, at the end I got confession from her——"
"Which was?"——
"Which was," continued Le Compte, taking his time, "that Mrs. Winslow had got great power over a Toronto merchant with much wealth and great family, by name Devereaux."
"How long had she known him?"
"I know not that—five, four, three years, I will think."
"Did you ever see this Devereaux?"
"Oh, no, no—never; but it is all certain that I speak. Here," continued Le Compte, stepping nimbly to a secretary and producing a photograph, which he handed to me, "here you will find the face of Devereaux. Many, many times I have seen the color of his money."
"And does Mrs. Winslow visit Canada for the purpose of meeting this man still?" I asked.
"Certain," he answered promptly; then, after a little pause, as if doubtful of the propriety of what he was about to say, but finally resolving to earn his money, if possible, "and she shall go there once more in the next week."
I began to think that the little Frenchman had really a good article for sale, and made full memoranda of all the main points. I asked him some further questions, the answers to which showed conclusively that Mrs. Winslowhad made a full confidant of him concerning the Canadian affair, at least; that she had secured a vast amount of money from Devereaux at the same time that Lyon was breaking her heart; and that, whether Devereaux was fated to go through the same final experience as Lyon, or not, that he had undergone and was undergoing the same preliminary experience.
At the close of the interview I informed Le Compte that his information was quite satisfactory, and that it only remained for me to prove its correctness in order to permit the payment of the money, which, however, should necessarily be on the additional condition that he at once secured for us information as to the date on which the madam was to make her profitable little pleasure-trip to Toronto.
This he agreed to do, and I left him; not, however, until he had anxiously requested to know more about me, and where and when he was to receive his money. I told him that I was a travelling man; that I had no permanent residence, was here and there all over the country; but that the moment we ascertained the truth of his statements, which would be very soon, he should be compensated.
I communicated to Lyon the facts elicited during this interview, which completely overwhelmed him with the perfidy of human nature in general, and woman in particular; but gave him considerable encouragement concerning the progress of our work; and after directing Bristol, through the post, to continue playing therôleofthe banker, and to keep himself in preparation for telegraphic instructions, returned to New York.
All this time Bristol was in clover. The three old maids, Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah, had looked him over and saw that he was a good man to tie to. Here was a man, they agreed, who had come in among them a perfect stranger, and yet so possessed was he of a frank, winsome way, and such a reliable, honorable demeanor had he exhibited towards them, three lone and defenceless women as they were, that they had instinctively felt that they could trust him; nay, even more, they were sure that they could lean upon him, as it were; take him into their confidence; share their joys with him, rely on him to sympathize with them in all their sorrows—in fact, make of him a sort of an affectionate Handy Andy—a good-natured and attractive attaché to their affections, and a profitable sign-post to their business.
Neither had any man ever before received such signs and tokens of a deep-seated and ineradicable affection.
Every morning he was awakened from his virtuous slumbers by the delicious music of a bird training organ, which was wound in turn by the maidens and set inside his door, where, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," it galloped over the harmonies with: "Then you'll remember me," "Don't be angry with me, Darling," "Who will care for Mother Now?" "Bonnie Charlie's Noo Awa'," "Annie Laurie," and like tender airs, until the poor man cursed the Three Graces of Washington Hall restaurant, and the detective service, threadbare.
After this delicious reminder of languishing love he was served with a breakfast fit for a king, at which Tabitha, Amanda, and Hannah in turn presided, and which was always graced by a large bouquet of flowers whose language and fragrance only breathed of love.
On these occasions the conversation never failed to turn upon Bristol's merits, the old maids' loneliness, and the superiority of women without physical beauties, but full of soul, over those more fortunate in flesh but wanting in spirituality. This was an advertisement for their own establishment, and a drive at Mrs. Winslow; and Bristol always acknowledged the force of the argument.
Whenever Mrs. Winslow took a meal at the restaurant, which had now become a frequent occurrence, just so certain was Bristol's corresponding meal served in the little snuggery, where, however busy they might be, one of the ancient ladies kept him good company and quickened his digestion with sparkling humor and witty jest, such only as can course through the flowery avenues of an aged spinster's mind, made fresh and blooming by the wild fancy of the second childhood of love's young dream; and at night, when the busy day was over and the vulgar public shut out by the well-bolted front door, the little snuggery always held the same wise old company, where Bristol, ripe in age and experience, passed an hour with the ladies over tea and sweetmeats, or wine and waffles, surrounded by the thrilled and blushing trio, who, preparatory to retiring, discovered to him as many of their combined charms as modesty would allow, and intheir tender hearts built plans for the future when they would bodily possess Bristol—at least one of them, if the laws of society did prevent his making a sort of blessed trinity of himself for their benefit.
This course of procedure angered Mrs. Winslow.Herheart also yearned for the retired banker, and when she saw how securely he was being kept from her grasp by the wily old maids, she immediately began preparing a plan the execution of which would foil them, and eventually give her the coveted game all to herself. To this end she walked to and fro past the restaurant, and finally attracted the attention of Bristol while the old ladies were busily engaged elsewhere, and motioned to him in so imperative a way and with such earnestness, that he slipped out of the place, and at a careful distance followed her in the direction of the Falls Field Garden, where lovers often met and where there was no danger of interruption.
Mr. Bangs on the Trail in the West.—Terre Haute and its Spiritualists.—Mrs. Deck's Boarding-house.—The Nettleton Family broken up.—Back at the Michigan Exchange.—Mother Blake's Recital.—Through Chicago to Wisconsin.—A disheartening Story.—The practical result of Spiritualism.
Mr. Bangs on the Trail in the West.—Terre Haute and its Spiritualists.—Mrs. Deck's Boarding-house.—The Nettleton Family broken up.—Back at the Michigan Exchange.—Mother Blake's Recital.—Through Chicago to Wisconsin.—A disheartening Story.—The practical result of Spiritualism.
SUPERINTENDENT BANGS arrived at Terre Haute in good time, and found himself in one of the greatest centres of Spiritualism in the world.
The very air seemed charged and surcharged with the permeating power. People watching incoming trains had a listless, far-away look, as though watching for the dim spirits which were constantly expected from the other land, but which never came. The clamorous cabmen raised their sing-song voices as if only expecting, though more than desiring, only shadowy freight. The regular loiterers had long hair, cadaverous faces, and large, lustrous eyes, and where females appeared, they were generally in pinched faces, flowing hair, long pantaloons and short gowns, as if ready for a grand Amazon-march upon the gullible public.
On the way to the hotel every other stairway held the sign of one or more clairvoyants, mediums, or astrologists, and every manner of business seemed to have the ghostlytrail upon it. The pedestrians upon the streets, the men at their counters, the workmen at their trades, the women at their various employments, the common laborers at their most menial toil, each and every, from the highest to the lowest, seemed to have a weary, listless air, as if constant wrestling with communicating spirits healthier and more robust than themselves, had left a chronic exhaustion upon and with them.
At the hotel the register was thin and ghostly, the office was deserted and dreary, the meals were served in a listless, dreamy way, as if the guests were ghosts and the waiters not so good. In fact, the whole place and everything in it was tinctured with the common craziness, and gave the healthy, wide-awake stranger the impression of having suddenly come upon a community of mild lunatics, who were quite happy in the conviction that they were directing the affairs of both earth and heaven, and establishing pleasant, intramural relations between their chosen Hoosier City and the beautiful City beyond the River; all of which would be very pleasant and profitable if anybody had ever come back from the undiscovered country to give us its geographical outlines, define its limits, or explain any profit that has accrued from becoming a monomaniac on a subject that has no relation whatever to the common needs and duties of life, and has never been known to give to the world or its society a single healthful, helpful nature or intellect.
Mr. Bangs was neither pleased with the hotel, or able to get much information while there, and consequentlychanged his quarters to Mrs. Deck's boarding-house, a long, rambling brick building, that at one time had been a fine residence after the Southern style. It was covered with moss and vines, and had a snug, pleasant appearance, while everything about the house had an air of quaint, attractive restfulness. Every person who has ever been in Terre Haute for a few days' stay, as Bangs was, will remember the genial old soul who presided over the destinies of this particular boarding-house—the fat, garrulous, whimpering, but kind-hearted Mrs. Deck; her charming daughter, the blooming Belle Ruggles, by a former and more fortunate marriage, with her fair face and wealth of golden hair, flitting about the house—which was also the abode of spirits, mysterious materializations and unexplainable rappings—like a good, sensible spirit thatshewas, and letting her good sense and kind ways into the cobwebbed rooms and dark places, like an ever-changing though constant flood of sunlight; and "Old Deck," as the boys called him, who believed in another kind of spirits still, and, when opportunity offered, became so full of them that he held a grand and extended "seance" on his own account.
People not only sought Mrs. Deck for good board, but for reliable neighborhood gossip; and Mr. Bangs, learning of her reputation as a repository of news as well as a liberal dispenser of creature comforts, changed his quarters from the hotel to her place, and found from a few days in her company that she was a sort of historian, having at her tongue's end numberless incidents connected withthe growth of the city and the family relations of every class of people in or near it.
He learned from her where the Hosfords had lived, but could get nothing particular regarding the woman herself, as Mrs. Deck had never seen her, and only knew of her by reputation, which she was sure had been good.
Mr. Bangs at once went into the country neighborhood where the Hosfords had lived, and found that they had removed to some point in Wisconsin, near Sheboygan Falls, the neighbors had heard, but he could not find that there had been a single trace of trouble at Terre Haute. All those who had known them spoke of them both in the highest terms. They had both been staunch members of the Methodist Church, and though plain, quiet farmers, had been considered prominent people in the neighborhood.
Hosford was remembered as a slow-going, easy-conditioned, good-natured fellow, but as honest as the day was long; and no one had ever known aught against his wife, save that some of the old gossips thought that she had brought too much jewelry and fine clothing into the neighborhood with her. This, however, she had judiciously kept out of sight as much as possible, and, as far as could be learned, had led in every respect an exemplary life.
From this point Mr. Bangs proceeded to Kalamazoo. The Nettleton family were gone, no one knew where; but here he was told of the escapade to Detroit of Lilly Nettleton years before, enough of which had floated backto her native place—coupled with the old people's later sorrows, which were largely dilated upon—to account for the breaking up of the family and its members being scattered broadcast.
Accidentally at Kalamazoo, in conversation with the clerk at the Kalamazoo House, who had formerly been employed at Detroit, and who was "up to snuff," as he termed it, Bangs learned of Mother Blake, who had informed the clerk of Bland's unfortunate experience with one Lilly Mercer. He also got from the clerk a description of Mother Blake sufficiently comprehensive to enable him to find her if she were still at Detroit, where he at once proceeded.
On arriving in that city he went to the Michigan Exchange Hotel, and, through the courtesy of the proprietors, was allowed to look up the records of the house.
It was fifteen years previous that the man who said he was "from Bland" met Lilly Nettleton at the depot and had taken her to the Michigan Exchange to meet the reverend circuit-rider; but after he had got at the dusty records he found on the register, evidently in the handwriting of a clerk: "Lilly Mercer, Buffalo, Room 34," under date of August 15, 1856, and also the names of "R. J. Hosford, Terre Haute, Room 98," and "Lilly Nettleton, Kalamazoo, Room 34," in a cramped and almost illegible hand under date of November 28th of the same year; and on the next day's page, in the same hand: "R. J. Hosford and wife, Terre Haute, Room 34."
The next step was to hunt up Mother Blake, which wasnot a very hard matter, as women of her character generally run in the same noisome rut, until they are swept from the great highway with other pestilences of life, and pass from bitter existence and infamous memory; and after one or two evenings running about among thedemi-mondehe found the woman—quite an old lady now, but nearly as well-kept and quite as jolly as ever, presiding over a group of soiled divinities at a neat retreat on Griswold Street.
Through the purchase of a vile bottle of wine the old lady's lips were opened, and her tongue began a perfect gallop about Bland and Lilly Mercer.
She gave the latter the reputation of being one of the shrewdest women she had ever met, and laughed until the tears came into her eyes over the way in which she had "played it" on Bland, who had picked her up for a fool, and had himself been terribly sold. Then she launched into vituperations towards the young minister, who had accused her of "standing in" with the girl in the robbery, when she had been as badly fooled as himself. Whatever she had been and was, she said, there wasn't a dishonest hair in her head; which assertion Bangs had reason to believe to be literally true, as he noticed that she wore a wig.
She then in great glee told him how she had "got even" with Bland by "giving him away" to the papers, which had soon taken the feathers out ofhiscap, she remarked with much satisfaction, broken his mother's heart, who died and willed all her property to the good cause offurnishing the heathen with an occasional fat missionary steak, and finally drove Bland out of Detroit, when he had gone to some Eastern city and, under another name, with his fine manners, airy ways, and good clothes, was playing it fine on some old Spiritualist millionaire out our way.
When the vision of the magnificent Harcout—which was almost a constant one, as he rushed into my office on the slightest pretext whatever, big with his own importance and unusually full of enthusiasm over "our case"—flitted before my eyes, it gave to me additional romance in the work, in the sense that here, after many years, the man whom Mrs. Winslow in her early career had so magnificently duped, had unconsciously become one of her most relentless pursuers.
But it was a matter for speculation whether Harcout knew her to be the person who had so neatly taken him in, or whether he had risen to this condition of fervor in his work merely to impress Lyon with his useful friendship. I inclined to the latter opinion, however, as I was satisfied that if he had known with whom he was dealing he would have given up all expectations of continued favor and patronage from Lyon, and left Rochester as hastily as he had, as Bland, departed from Detroit.
Bangs also asked her if she had ever seen Lilly Mercer since that time.
Of course she had seen her, just at the close of the war. One day as she was crossing the river in the ferry, coming back from Windsor, she had met her face to face.Mother Blake said that she seemed wonderfully glad to meet her, and wanted to borrow some money, which she had refused. She then gave her her card, upon which she was called some Madam or other, a clairvoyant, and she had some shabby rooms on Wisconsin Street, near the theatres. She was still young and pretty, Mother Blake said, and she easily persuaded her to come and live with her, which she did, "and," continued the old woman, with a withering look at the girls, "low down as she was, she made more money in a day than any half-dozen women I ever had." The old lady further said that she had only remained with her long enough to get some fine clothing and money together, when she started for the East.
She had never seen her since, but she had heard that she had several times passed through the city towards Chicago, always returning to the East, however, and also always richly dressed, and having every appearance of living in clover. "Let her alone to get along," concluded the old lady; "she'll live like a queen where another, a million times better than she, would starve."
From Detroit, Bangs proceeded to Chicago, and from thence to Sheboygan Falls, Wisconsin, where it required but a few minutes' inquiries to put him on track of the Hosfords.
Hosford had come there from Terre Haute several years ago, bought a fine farm a few miles out, and had, as far as could be ascertained, lived a comfortable sort of life for about a year, when trouble began.
Mrs. Hosford, from the good member of society which she was supposed to be, or really had been, suddenly embraced Spiritualism, and began running about the country with any old vagabond tramp of this kind that came along; and from the hard-working, economical woman she had been, she had become a spendthrift, a drunkard, and a prostitute. Hosford had moved away, and after considerable time and inquiry, it was ascertained that he had gone to Oskaloosa, in Iowa, determined to get away from old associations as far as possible, and had taken their three children with him, which she had vainly endeavored to secure.
Bangs spent several days here in hunting up evidence. There was plenty of it—mountains of it. Merchants and other business men of the town would button-hole him, take him into some retired place and tell him how this man had been caughtin flagrante delictowith Mrs. Hosford, how that man had confessed to having been caught in her toils, and how some other person had been made a suspicious person in the society of the place, through some peccadillo with the dashingMadam.
All these persons referred to told of all the other persons who had divulged their weaknesses, until it seemed to Mr. Bangs, after remaining a few days in the vicinity, that the entire male portion of the community were implicated. But securing promises of depositions was quite another thing. Mr. A. was a married man, belonged to the church, had extensive business relations, and, while he would like to assist in the noble effort to show up theinfamous woman, he really could not, you see, place himself in so delicate a position.
Mr. B. was not a member of any church, but had the reputation of a high order of morality. While he could not but acknowledge the justice of the request, and hoped that Mr. Bangs would have no trouble in securing all the evidence he needed, which would be a very easy matter, still he did not see how he could consistently compromise himself by going on record as a common adulterer.
Mr. C. was neither a churchman, nor did he claim a high order of morality; but if he had good luck, he would in the spring marry a very pretty girl of the village, and if she should ascertain that he had previously been so generous with his affections in another direction, he was satisfied that his dream of future bliss would be dissolved in thin air at once.
And so on through the entire village directory. There were pointed out scores of persons who had the knowledge desired, were all willing to help him securesome other personfor sacrifice, and all equally enthusiastically hoped that her suit against Lyon would end in an ignominious failure; but declined, with thanks, the proud honor of exposing their own weaknesses, for even the extreme honor of assisting in her downfall.
A Chicago Divorce "Shyster."—Hosford found.—His pathetic Narrative.—More Facts.
A Chicago Divorce "Shyster."—Hosford found.—His pathetic Narrative.—More Facts.
MR. BANGS was in no hurry to leave Sheboygan Falls, as he found that he was in a fruitful field for information, and he continued garnering it in and stacking it away industriously.
It appeared that Hosford's wife, not content with disgracing his name, had soon developed her old and never-satisfied greed for money and any sort of power that might be wielded mercilessly; and it was evident that she had money, for she immediately began dressing with much elegance and travelling about the country extensively. The probability was that she had still retained the money stolen from Bland, and had also, during her years of economy, carefully added to it until she had secured a large sum, as she had occasion to use a good deal of money in a certain transaction, which quite thoroughly illustrated her unprincipled and revengeful character.
When Hosford had removed from Indiana to Wisconsin, he had purchased a larger and a finer farm, and had been obliged to give a mortgage upon it for several thousand dollars, to be used in making necessary improvements.This had been paid off with the exception of about three thousand dollars, which amount, as soon as Mrs. Hosford had begun making it lively for her husband, and had left him for the purpose of wedding Spiritualism and all that the term implies, she immediately produced and bought up the mortgage, placing it in ex-Senator Carpenter's hands for foreclosure; but poor Hosford, struggling under his heavy load of desertion, disgrace and persecution, managed to raise the money and take it up, thus preventing the villainous woman from turning him out of his own home, which she had deserted and desecrated.
This had proven too much for even the patient Hosford to endure, and he had set about getting a divorce. But this was a harder thing to do than he had anticipated. Although he was in possession of nearly as much information as Bangs had secured, it was impossible to obtain definite evidence against her. Her terrible temper, her unscrupulousness, her unbounded and almost devilish shrewdness, and the swift and sudden principle of revenge that seemed only equalled by her greed for money, compelled thorough awe and fear among those from whom Hosford had expected assistance, and the result was he did not get it, and he was obliged to let the suit for divorce go by default. After this every petty annoyance that could occur to the woman's mind was visited on him. She would write him threatening letters; forward him express packages of a nature to both humiliate him and cause him fear; run him in debt at every place where shecould force, or "confidence," merchants into trusting her; hire a carriage and secure some male companion as vile as she, with whom she would proceed to her old home, and in the presence of her agonized husband and helpless, innocent children, threaten him with every conceivable form of punishment, including death, and engage in profanity and drunken orgies that would have disgraced the lowest brothel in the land.
Mr. Bangs learned that after this sort of procedure for a considerable period, she suddenly disappeared. Hosford took this opportunity to dispose of his farm and remove with his motherless family to Iowa. Mr. Bangs could not learn at Sheboygan what the woman's history had been during that period, but vague rumors had floated back to the place that she had become an army-follower, which was quite probable; but at the close of the war she had assumed therôleof an abandoned adventuress, and had wandered about the Pacific Slope until she had made too extensive an acquaintance for her safety in that section, and from thence had wandered through the country towards the East, seeking for any kind of prey; and being hunted from place to place, under countlessaliases, until she had in a measure retrieved herself, as far as money matters were concerned, and being careful of herself physically, had regained her good looks which her former terrible dissipation had almost destroyed, and had eventually so insinuated herself into the affections of a rich somebody that she had been furnished money with which to secure a divorce fromHosford, which had been granted in Chicago about a year and a half previous; when she had come on to Sheboygan Falls and while there made her boasts that she would soon marry one of the richest men in New York State, as soon as his wife died, which wouldn't be very long she had hoped and believed. Besides this, the rumors went, she had failed to marry that richest somebody in New York State, and papers had been seen containing an account of the woman and Lyon, her suit against him, and the fact, which particularly interested her old neighbors, that she had engaged no lawyer whatever, but had drawn and filed the bill of complaint herself.
In fact, the entire community were in a state of great excitement over the woman who was also creating much excitement in the East, and each person had his or her story to tell of some striking peculiarity or previous adventure of the madam's, and it required a great amount of sifting and careful work for Mr. Bangs to secure what he came for.
After a few days, however, he had worked so judiciously that he had got pledges from several responsible citizens that they would give their depositions as to her general character and reputation for chastity, or rather, want of it, whenever a commission should be forwarded to a certain lawyer of the city whom he engaged to take them.
From here he at once proceeded to Iowa, only stopping at Chicago long enough to secure a transcript of thedivorce which had been granted in that city so noted for divorces, that one shyster alone secured seven hundred and seventy-seven of these desirable instruments from the period between the great fire and the close of the year 1875, from whence he immediately proceeded to Oskaloosa, where he soon became acquainted with parties who had known the woman, though under as many differentaliasesas she had visited cities of that State.
She had invariably advertised herself as a medium and female physician, and had swindled every one with whom she had come in contact, from the editor to errand-boy, from one end of the State to the other, and had gained even a worse reputation there than in Wisconsin. He ascertained that Hosford was not living at Oskaloosa, and before going through the same experience in listening to countless tales of the woman's depravity as he had in Wisconsin, he decided to proceed to his place, which was near Monroe, twenty-nine miles distant. He procured a conveyance and drove out to Hosford's farm, arriving at the place about dusk, where, after he had stated his business, he was invited to remain over night, and made comfortable.
Although a farmer, Hosford had everything cozy and pleasant about him, had married into a very respectable family, and had secured a most agreeable wife, who was caring for his children—two bright girls and a boy, from twelve to fifteen years of age—with almost the tenderness and affection of an own mother. After supper Hosford sent his family into another part of the house, and expressedhimself as ready to give any information in his power.
He had not yet heard of the suit against Lyon, and when Mr. Bangs told him, he seemed astonished beyond expression, and after a little time said that he had often tried to think of some Satanic scheme that the womanwould notdare to undertake if it occurred to her, but he had failed to imagine any. But with the record, especially for personal purity, behind her that Mrs. Winslow possessed, he could not but be particularly startled and surprised at her supreme self-possession and audacity. After a little further desultory conversation, Mr. Bangs told him that the Agency had all the necessary information regarding their early career, and of their subsequent history up to the time when they left Terre Haute, and probably a great deal after that time, and asked Hosford if he would be willing to go over the whole matter, giving the outlines of their troubles, what brought them about, and what had been their result.
He was the same old Dick Hosford—abrupt, kind, generous, with perhaps some of the old "forty-niner" roughness worn off and a toning-down of his whole nature, that his keen sorrows had given him; but he was quite as impulsively reckless, and just as impulsively tender, and he began his story in a kind of weary way, that, to one knowing his history, was really sad and touching.
"Well, sir," said Hosford, "I knew the gal had been doing wrong at Detroit, but for all these hard years in Californy I had been working, savin', and goin' throughdanger with the purty pictur ahead that the bright girl I had left by the river would one day make me a happy home. I worked like a nigger, and it was sometimes up and sometimes down with me out thar—mostly down, though. But I struck a good lead one day, and worked close till it panned dry. I didn't have much aside some of them fellows out thar; but instead of runnin' it down my throat, givin' it to cut-throat gamblers, or flingin' it away on vile women, I started full chisel for the States. I come to Terre Haute, as you know, and spent nearly all my dust buyin' a little farm. Then I started fur Nettleton's, whar I expected heaven—but found hell!
"It bust me all up like, and I wandered about the old place jest as though I had went to sleep happy and waked up in a big grave that I couldn't get out of. The old folks themselves wasn't any more cut up than me; but I thought as how I wasn't doin' anything to help matters, 'n only makingthemmore trouble. So I thought and thought what to do, and finally made up to go a-huntin' her, 'n told the old folks I wouldn't come back 'thout her.
"It all come over me then what she was doing; but I only thought to get her back for the old folks' sake. Well, sir, I went to Chicago, and hung around that doggoned city fur a week 'r two; but no Lil. Then I come back, lookin' everywhere, askin' everybody, an' peerin' into every place; but no Lil. Finally, I got to Detroit, and I went into every one of those places where I feared shemightbe; but no Lil. Do you know where I found her?"
Mr. Bangs told him he did, and how.
"Well, sir," continued Hosford, "I was utterly discouraged, 'n was goin' to go back and sell the place, and get away from the country altogether; but when I saw her all so rosy, fixed up so gay, and got to be such a grand sort of a woman, I just caved in altogether and wanted her for myself more 'n ever. I thought she had a good heart, and that I loved her enough to always be kind to her—as God knows I was—and thoughtthatmight keep her right. I never asked her a question, 'n wouldn't let the old folks. Everybody makes mistakes, ye know, and it kind of makes people wild to let 'em knowyouknow it, and to badger 'em with questions. Well, she had lots of good sense, and took off her finery before we got to the old folks', who were 'most crazy with joy that we had come back together as man and wife. We stayed at Nettleton's a few days, then went direct to Terre Haute. I don't believe a man ever had a better wife 'n she was to me while we lived there. We never mentioned the old times, and were very happy, as the children kept comin' along. The silks and jewels she got at Detroit were all put away, 'n I never saw 'em, till one day I come home unexpected and found the children shut out in the yard, and my wife afore the lookin'-glass, all rigged out in her old finery, an' lookin' herself over and over, while countin' a big pile of money that I had never seen before. I got a good look at her, but went whistlin' about the house for a long time, so as to let on that I didn't see her, and to give her time to get her old clothes on agin.
"It seemed as if right there and then the clouds begun hangin' over the house. I didn't say a word about it, and made everything as cheery as I could; but begun tryin' to think what had set her goin', and after a few days found that she had been attendin' some of those Spiritual meetings down to town, and one of the Doctors come up to our place and stayed a few days, representin' himself as a good Methodist.
"I knew it wouldn't do to stay there any longer, an' so we moved to Wisconsin, I makin' her think it was healthier 'n where they had no ager. Well, sir, after we got there everything was pleasant and happy agi'n till the Spiritualists begun overrunnin' that country too, and she commenced her tantrums at once. I didn't oppose her goin' to them meetin's, but told her I hoped she wouldn't get mixed up with 'em too much; but 'twas no use. The devil had come into the house in that shape, and though I prayed hard that it might leave, it got worse and worse, till the children were 'most crazy with fright and sorrow. I didn't know what to do. She run me in debt, slandered me, disgraced me. She would not only run about the country with those terrible people, but she took to her old life, which was worse than everything else. I tried every way to reform her; but she was bound to go her vile way, and I could stand it no longer.
"You know the rest up there. After she had been gone some time and had got the divorce in Chicago, I come here with the children, to try and get away from it all. You have seen my wife. She ain't a purty woman.She is pure and good though, and I prayed to God that the shadder would never come here. But 'twasn't any use. It seemed as though my prayin' never helped things much! We hadn't more 'n got settled here, when I heard of her travellin' through the country—you know how. Some way she found me out here, and I haven't had much peace since.
"One time she came here and left a trunk full of nice silk dresses and things. After a time, wife and I looked into it and found over two hundred keys of all kinds, besides pistols and knives. She came and took it away soon after, accusin' us of stealin' some of her things, and threatened to have us arrested. A few months afterwards she went up to Newton, the county-seat, and swore out a warrant for our arrest on the charge of assault and battery, and got subpœnas out for all the folks across the way. The Sheriff came down here to serve his warrant and subpœnas, and at Monroe learned something about the woman, so that by the time he got here and talked it over with us, I come to the conclusion she wanted to get us away and then steal the children; so we took them all along, left one of the neighbors to take care of the house, and went to Newton to stand trial. Sure enough, she didn't appear agin' us, but did come here in a carriage fur the children, awful drunk, and come near shootin' the man that was taking care of the place!"
Bangs here asked Hosford whether he had ever seen her since or had heard from her.
"I have seen her but once," he replied. "But I haveheerd about her doin's, time and time again. She come here one day in a carriage, dressed fit to kill; and the first I see, she was tryin' to get the children into the carriage with her. I ordered them to come in, when, with an oath, she put her hand to her bosom as if to draw a pistol.
"I got mad at this, and told her that if she had come to that agin,I'dhave a hand in too; and as soon as I turned into the house as if to get a pistol—I only had an old rusty one with a broken lock, but had an idea that I could some way use it—she blazed away at me, the ball going through the front door and driving the splinters into my clothes. As she didn't know whether she had hit me or not, she drove away at full gallop, and I've never sot eyes on her since."
The poor fellow seemed to say this with an inexpressible sense of satisfaction and relief. He had had more than his share of her general depravity forced upon him, and the respite from it, though short, was very dear to him.
Bangs got from Hosford the names of parties in contiguous towns who could give him definite information about Mrs. Winslow, while he offered to come to Rochester himself, if his presence was required; and after a good night's rest and an early breakfast, Mr. Bangs returned to Monroe. After a few days' travel and inquiry he secured a thousand times more information than necessary to compel the retiracy of the splendid Mrs. Winslow from her then public and profitable field of operations, after which he returned to New York, well satisfied with the result of his by no means pleasant labors.