CHAPTER XXIII.
DYKE DARREL ON THE TRAIL.
The men who burst into Aunt Scarlet's room on the night that ProfessorRuggles departed from the block with Nell Darrel in his arms, were menof determination and friends of the detective, who had gone into thebuilding in the disguise of an old man, for the purpose ofinvestigating.
How the investigation came out the reader has been already informed.
The report of pistols had warned Harry Bernard, the boy Paul Ender,and two officers in their company, that something of an interestingnature was going on in the basement of the Scarlet block.
"Dyke is in difficulty, that is sure," cried Harry, in an excitedvoice. "We must get inside at once."
They tried the side door, to find it locked. It was through this doorthat they had seen the bold detective disappear, and it was in thesame direction that the four men proposed to go in search of theirdaring friend.
The room was in darkness, but Paul soon had the rays of a dark lanternflashing about the place.
"Let us move with caution," said Harry, taking the lead, and enteringthe hall through the doorway which Ruggles, in his hasty flight, hadleft open. Soon voices greeted them from the basement, and a lightglimmered through a half-open door at the head of the stairs.
"If we could only put him under down here," said a voice, which thereader will recognize as that of Nick Brower, the villainousaccomplice of Professor Ruggles from the opening of our story.
"Wal, I reckin we kin," said the villainous companion of Brower. As hespoke, he went to the side of the fallen man-hunter, and placed thepoint of a knife against his throat.
"What now, pard?
"Dead men tell no tales, Nick."
"True. Send it home---"
SPANG!
The sharp report of a revolver wake the echoes once more. The knifedropped from the nerveless grasp of the would-be assassin, and with ahowl of pain he began dancing an Irish jig on the stone floor of thecellar.
Nick Brower whirled instantly, snatched a revolver from his hip, tofind that four glittering bulldogs confronted him from the stairs.
"Drop that weapon, or we will drop you!" thundered Harry Bernard in astern voice.
"Trapped!" cried Brower, in a despairing voice.
Then the four men moved down into the cellar and secured Brower andhis companion.
"We have made a good haul," said one of the police officers whoaccompanied Bernard and Paul, who recognized in Brower an oldoffender.
Harry Bernard bent quickly and anxiously over the prostrate detective.
"My soul!" uttered the young man, "the villains have killed poorDarrel, I do believe."
But the young man's belief was unfounded, since some time later DykeDarrel came to his senses. He was in a bad condition, however, andthose who saw him predicted that the detective had followed his lasttrail. A search of the building brought to light Madge Scarlet, whowas fuming angrily over her imprisonment.
"How did this happen?" demanded Bernard, sternly, when he came toquestion the hag. She was sullen, however, and refused to answer.
"I imagine there is a way to bring your tongue into working order,"said Bernard, in a stern voice.
"I keep a respectable house, sir; you can't harm me."
"We'll see about that."
"Did you find any one?" questioned the jezabel in an apparentlycareless tone.
"We have two of your friends in limbo," returned Harry. "You will findit no holiday affair to keep a house for the purpose of murder androbbery. Never mind, you need say nothing, for it will not bettermatters in the least. Come;" and Harry Bernard led the old woman fromthe cellar.
A patrol wagon bore the prisoners to the lock-up, and Bernard had DykeDarrel taken to a private hospital, where he could have the best ofcare. It was some days, however, before the badly battered detectivecame to his senses sufficiently to converse on the subject of theracket in the building on Clark street.
"My soul! Harry, has nothing been discovered of poor Nell?--was shekilled?" questioned the wounded man in a voice wrung with anguish.
"I don't think Nell was mortally hurt," returned Bernard in areassuring tone, although he hardly felt hopeful himself. "If she was,why should the villains have taken her away, or the villain rather,since, from your account, I judge that but one of them escaped, and hethe man with the red hair."
"Yes, he seemed the chief scoundrel among them. I heard him calledProfessor Ruggles."
"He is about as much a professor as I am," answered Bernard.
"HE is the man we want for that midnight crime on the express train. Ihave evidence enough now, Dyke, to prove that this man is the guiltyprincipal, and I also believe that one of his accomplices is now inprison."
"Indeed!"
And then the detective groaned in anguish of spirit and of body. Itwas hard to lay here, helpless as a child, while the fate of Nell wasuncertain, and there was so much need for a keen detective to beafloat. Harry realized how his friend suffered, and soothed him asbest he could. "Leave no stone unturned to find her, Harry," urged thedetective. "If you do find and save her, great shall be your reward.If she is dead, then I will see about avenging the deed."
"And in that you will not be alone," assured Harry Bernard, a moistlight glittering in his eye. Even Dyke Darrel did not suspect howdeeply his young friend was interested in the fate of Nell.
The days dragged into weeks ere Dyke Darrel was able to be on his feetagain. He was not very strong when he once more took it upon himselfto hunt down the scoundrels who had wrecked his happy home. Even therailroad crime was forgotten for the time, so intense was his interestcentered in the fate of his sister. If not dead, Dyke Darrel believedshe had met with a far worse fate, and it was this thought that nervedhim to think of doing desperate work should the cruel abductor evercome before him.
Madge Scarlet was dismissed after an examination, but Nick Brower andhis companion were held to await the action of a higher court.
One morning the pallid man in brown suit who had haunted the variousdepots of the city for several days made a discovery. On one of theearly morning trains a man and veiled female had taken passage East.
Dyke Darrel trembled with intense excitement when the depot policemantold him of this.
"Only this morning, you say?"
"It was on one of the earliest trains, I believe, this morning.
"A New York train?"
"I am not sure. I see so many people, you know. You might inquire atthe ticket office."
Dyke Darrel did so.
No ticket for New York had been sold that morning. Then the policemansaid that it was possible he might have been mistaken as to the time.It might have been on the previous day he saw the man and his invalidsister.
"Do you know that they took the New York train?" questioned Dyke.
"No; I'm not positive about that, either. You might telegraph aheadand find if such a couple is on the train."
This was a wise suggestion.
Dyke acted upon it, but failed to derive any satisfaction.
And there was good reason for this, since when leaving Chicago a darkman, with smooth face and gray-tinged hair, accompanied Nell Darrel;whereas, before reaching the borders of New York State, the place ofthis man had been taken by a man with red beard and hair, blueglasses, and a well-worn silk plug.
This change disturbed identities completely. The change had been madeat a way station, without causing remark among the passengers, themost of whom were not through for the great city. Once New Yorkwhelmed them, the scheming villain and poor Nell would be lost foreverto the man-tracker of the West.
There was a suspicion in the brain of Dyke Darrel that he scarcelydared whisper to his own consciousness. It was that Harper Ellistonhad a hand in the late villainy. The detective's eyes were open atlast, and he realized that his New York friend was not what he seemed.It was this fact that induced Dyke Darrel to believe that the abductorof Nell had turned his face toward the American metropolis. At once he
made search for Harry Bernard and Paul Ender.
Neither of them was he able to find, and he had not seen them for twodays previous.
It did not matter, however.
Leaving word at the hotel that he had gone to New York, Dyke Darrelonce more hastened to the depot, arriving just in time to leap aboardthe express headed for the Atlantic seaboard.
The train that had left four hours earlier was almost as fast as theone taken by the detective, so that if no accident happened to theearlier train, there could be little hope of running down his preybefore New York was reached.
Nevertheless, Dyke Darrel preserved a hopeful heart, in spite of theterrible anxiety that oppressed him.
The woman who had but a few days before been released from prison wasdestined to complicate matters and bring about startling andunexpected meetings, as the future will reveal.
When night fell Dyke Darrel found himself yet hundreds of miles fromthe goal of his hopes and fears.
Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express Page 23