CHAPTER VII.EAVESDROPPING.
Carter did not act hastily. He waited until Darwin had turned the corner before he alighted from the car. Then he started after his quarry, whom he soon caught sight of hurrying along on the south side of Houston Street.
The detective kept on the north side of the street.
As he walked along, he made a few changes in his disguise, so that if he and Darwin were brought face to face again the man would not recognize him as the same person who had stood on the platform of the car with him.
Darwin entered the crooks’ resort.
Carter followed him inside.
A number of men were leaning up against the bar.
Lem Samson, a tall, burly, broad-shouldered, red-faced man, with an ugly scar over his left temple, was serving out the drinks.
Darwin stepped up to the bar and spoke to Samson.
Carter got near them, and heard what was said.
“Have you seen Brockey?” Darwin asked.
“He hasn’t been in this evening,” Samson replied. “Did you expect to meet him to-night?”
“I did.”
“Go into the back room and wait.”
“Is any one in there?”
“No.”
Carter sat down in a chair near the door of that room, and feigned intoxication.
No one paid any attention to him.
The minutes passed.
Then the door of the room opened, and a man entered. He was dressed in black. His coat was tightly buttoned up, so as nearly to hide the white handkerchief that encompassed his scrawny throat. His hair—and it was not very luxuriant—was of a foxy color, and combed straight down, giving the observer the idea that it had been operated on by the prison barber. Pitted pockmarks covered his colorless, lean face.
At a glance the detective recognized Brockey Gann.
The rascal cast his restless eyes around the room, as if he were in fear of some danger, and, thus shuffling up to the bar, he asked of Samson, in a hoarse tone of voice:
“Have you seen him?”
“He’s waiting inside,” Samson replied, pointing toward the back room with his thumb.
Brockey, as he passed Carter, looked at him.
The detective’s head was bending forward, and, apparently, he was asleep.
“Jaggy,” Brockey muttered as he passed into the room.
“I’m glad you have come at last, Brockey,” the detective heard Darwin exclaim. “Sit down. Help yourself to the rosy.”
“Thank you,” Brockey replied, and he seated himself at the table, pouring out a glassful of liquor and swallowing it at a gulp.
Darwin handed him a cigar, which he lighted and proceeded to smoke.
“That’s the stuff!” he ejaculated.
“What did you discover this afternoon?” Darwin asked, after a pause.
“Nothing much.”
“Tell me what you did learn.”
“Well, the cove left the hotel and went downtown to the Manhattan Safe Deposit Company.
“Then he returned to the house.
“I laid around the place for several hours, thinking he would come out. He did not put in an appearance, and I proceeded to make inquiries.
“Then I discovered that he was not in his room, and I knew he had left the hotel.
“I haven’t been able to get on his trail.”
“The deuce!”
“That cove is like an eel.”
For a time the men were silent.
Carter realized that Brockey had been tracking him, and saw that in the future he would have to be more cautious.
It was only by a mere stroke of good luck that he had slipped out of the hotel unrecognized.
Finally, Darwin looked across the table at his companion, and said:
“I think I can trust you, Brockey.”
“Think you can!” Brockey ejaculated. “You have done so, and never found me unworthy of the trust. You remember——”
The blood left Darwin’s face when thus addressed, for a moment, and a paleness usurped its place.
“Why, Mr. Darwin, I was in hopes——”
“I think you are misunderstanding me. I know you—I can trust you, and it is not everybody I would;let that suffice. I shall want you to do something more for me.”
“What is that?”
“Carter must be put out of the way.”
“I begin to comprehend. That man has been the bitterest enemy that I ever had.”
“You don’t love him?”
“No.”
“Then you will undertake the job?”
“For a consideration—yes.”
“Oh, I don’t expect you to do it for nothing. I will pay you liberally. But, remember, there must be no failure.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Your best!”
“That’s what I said,” retorted Brockey.
“You must not fail.”
“There is a chance that I may.”
“You must not.”
“See here, Darwin, that cove is one of the worst terrors in the business.”
“I am aware of that——”
“Well—it——”
“Well——”
The men were sitting with their elbows leaning upon the table, and they stared into each other’s eyes for some time in silence.
“Say, Darwin,” Brockey finally blurted out, “I don’t like to be spoken to in that way. You talk as if you had a hold on me.”
“Ihavea hold on you!” Darwin fairly hissed, and his face darkened, while his eyes shone like two coals of fire.
“So you think. But I have also a hold on you, my bully boy, and don’t you forget it!”
Again a silence fell on them.
Darwin scowled.
Brockey smiled, showing a hideous gold tooth.
“We won’t quarrel,” Darwin at last remarked.
“I guess not,” Brockey replied, with a chuckle.
“Will you do the work?”
“I told you I would.”
“Then start out to-night to run him down.”
“The exchequer is very low.”
“How much will you need?”
“Five hundred down and five thousand when the cove is out of the way.”
“That is too much.”
“Don’t talk in that way. You know it is not too much. You and that other chap are going to pull out a big stake.”
“I am no fool, Darwin.”
“One word from me, and——”
“Hush! We are in a public barroom, and you ought to be more cautious.”
“Are you going to come to time?”
“I’ll give you three hundred to-night, and to-morrow we will talk about the balance.”
“Fork out the three hundred.”
Darwin took a roll of bills out of his pocket, counted out the amount, and passed it over to Brockey, who smiled again and shoved the money into his trousers pocket.
“How will you proceed?” Darwin asked.
“I’ll make up my mind later,” Brockey replied.
“To-morrow I shall expect to hear——”
“Don’t count on hearing to-morrow.”
“Why not?”
“I may not be able to find him to-night.”
“All right.”
“I’ll meet you here to-morrow afternoon at four o’clock. Are you going?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I’ll go with you.”
Darwin and Brockey left the room.
They passed the detective, and Darwin said:
“Did you notice that fellow?” pointing to Carter.
“Certainly,” Brockey answered. “He’s got a jag on.”
They halted in the center of the room, and looked back at the detective, who did not stir.
“Suppose he should be shamming?” Darwin remarked, in an undertone.
“G’way,” Brockey retorted.
“He may have heard what we were talking about.”
“Not much.”
“I have a sort of feeling that he is a spy.”
Brockey gazed intently at Carter.
Without uttering a word, he strode across the room and clutched hold of the detective by the shoulder, shaking him vigorously.
“Wosh de ma-asher!” Carter growled, making no attempt to resist. “Wosh de ma-asher,” he mumbled, a second time, in a maudlin tone. “Lesh a fel’ alone.”
“Get up out of here!” Brockey exclaimed, and he jerked the detective out of the chair.
Carter struggled from side to side, and his acting was perfect.
No one in the place paid any attention to him and Brockey except Darwin.
“Shay, ain’t chue a-goin’ t’ lea’ up?” Carter mumbled, and he caught hold of Brockey by the arms, to steady himself.
“Where do you live?” Brockey asked.
“Nowhere.”
The rascal was entirely deceived. He firmly believed that the detective was nothing more than a drunken “bum.” He let go his hold on him, and, with a grunt of well-feigned disgust, Carter staggered out of the den.
Brockey and Darwin followed.
The detective disappeared around the corner.
The instant he was out of sight he straightened up and darted into the doorway of a house, where he made a change in his disguise. He was anxious not to lose sight of Darwin, and he hastened back around into Houston Street again.
He almost ran into Brockey, who had separated from Darwin, who was hurrying off up the street in the direction of Broadway.
Brockey did not recognize the detective, and, with an oath, he passed around the corner.
Carter started after Darwin. He reached Broadway a few seconds later than he, and by a lucky chance he was able to get on the same car with him.
Carter was sure that he had struck the right trail. Indeed, he was firmly convinced now that Darwin and Rich were implicated in the murder, that they had formed together some dastardly plot.
The detective did not make any effort to surmise what that plot was.
It was too early yet to start to theorize.
By the detective’s side on the platform of the car Darwin stood, entirely unconscious that the man whom he had paid Brockey to kill was near him.
When the car reached Thirty-first Street, Darwin jumped off, lighted a cigar, and strolled leisurely down the block, turning into Sixth Avenue.
Carter was not far behind him.
“I’m going to find out more about you, my lad,” the detective thought, as he followed Darwin into a crowded dance hall.
It was nearly midnight, and the place was filled with men and women. A band was playing a popular waltz, and the floor was crowded with dancers. Loud laughter and shouts of maudlin mirth were heard on all sides.
Darwin halted near the entrance, and cast his eyes over the dancers.
“He’s looking for some one,” Carter mentally commented, as he noted his every action.
Darwin, at that moment, started up the stairway leading to the gallery.
The detective followed close behind him.
In the gallery, ranged along the railing, were small tables, at which merry parties of men about town and tenderloiners were seated, drinking.
The women were flashily and expensively dressed, and many of them were adorned with valuable jewelry.
Darwin, as soon as he reached the gallery, looked searchingly around.
Suddenly he started across the rear, and reached a table at the opposite side of which a young womanwas sitting alone. The woman looked at him, and nodded coldly as he drew up a chair beside her.
Carter had also crossed the gallery, and he stood within a few feet of the table.
“What is the matter with you, Dora?” asked Richard Darwin, as he sat down and ordered a waiter to fetch a bottle of champagne.
“You know well enough what is the matter,” Dora snappishly replied. “What’s the use of you trying to feign ignorance?”
“You look real sweet when you talk in that way.”
“How dare you!”
Dora’s fine eyes flashed. She turned around in her chair, faced Darwin, and glared at him.
One could see that she was not in an amiable mood. She was angry about something. Her face was flushed, and she raised her hand, as if she would have liked to have struck her companion in the face.
“Here’s the wine,” Darwin exclaimed, with a forced laugh, as the waiter placed the bottle and glasses on the table. “Drink some, and see if it won’t put you in a good humor.”
“I want none of your wine,” Dora retorted. “Keep it for your——”
“Yes, you do.”
“I won’t touch it. You and I are quits from this night forth.”
“Phew!”
“Probably you think I don’t mean it?”
“Youdon’tmean it, my dear girl. Drink your wine.”
“I want no wine that you have paid for. I want nothing from a man who will deceive me.”
“I haven’t deceived you, Dora. Indeed, I haven’t. I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You scoundrel!”
The conversation was carried on in low tones, but it was exciting and intense.
Dora leaned back in her chair, as she called Darwin a scoundrel, and she looked him squarely in the eyes.
Carter, who had heard all that was said, was deeply interested.