_CHAPTER XII_
_The Witness_
Mr. George Elliott, aristocratic, well-to-do club-man and all-roundagreeable fellow, lived in bachelor apartments on the upper West side ofNew York.
He was engaged now in the brokerage business, but, times having beendull, he found it rather difficult to occupy himself and wasanticipating taking a vacation--but where, he had not yet decided.
Events were shaping themselves, however, to bring him into thehappenings at Mona as one of our party.
On the corner, near the apartment, was a boot-blacking stand, presidedover by one Joe, an intelligent and wide-awake colored youngster, whosegeneral good-nature and honesty had made him popular with many. Amonghis patrons and general well-wishers was Mr. Elliott, to whom Joe hadtaken a particular liking, and whose opinions the young negro had oftensought in an off-hand way; for, despite his general air of reserve andhauteur, Elliott was kindness itself at heart, and a man who could beeasily approached by those who were suffering from worry and hardship.
At about the time of the beginning of this story, Joe's mother had beentaken sick and had died in Troy, and the boy had gone up there for a fewdays.
Then he had gone to Lorona, a little town farther south, and from thenceto Mona on his way home to New York. At Mona he had seen a terriblething--a murder.
Bewildered, frightened, overawed by his fateful knowledge, he hadmanaged, however, to reach New York, where he sought out Mr. Elliott forcounsel; he knew the latter was kind and good and would tell him what todo. Joe realized that he needed advice--that he was in a terrible fix,being the only witness, so far as he knew, of a crime of the worst kind.
As Joe told Mr. Elliott the things he had witnessed, that gentlemanrealized the tremendous value of the evidence being told him.
By adroit questioning, he determined that the celebrated Quintus Oakeswas in Mona. The boy said he recognized him, for he had frequently"shined" Mr. Oakes's shoes in times past on Broadway. Elliott realizedthat as he was called Clark at the inquest--according to Joe--the peoplein Mona did not know him as Oakes; he must be travelling under an_alias_, on important business probably. Elliott also grasped the factthat Oakes was there at the time of the murder by coincidence only. Hehad read of the affair in the evening paper, but only in a carelessmanner. It was all of deep interest now.
What should he do with Joe?
If he allowed the boy to think that he was in a tight place, he mightrun away, and that would defeat justice. There was the alternative oftelling the police; _that_ would mix himself up in an unpleasant affair,and Joe might not be believed--might be falsely accused of the murder.
Again, he knew Mr. Oakes. He had seen him at the Club, and he did notdesire to frustrate whatever investigations the detective might bemaking.
The best solution would be to find Quintus Oakes and tell him. Hecertainly would be able to give some attention to the murder, even ifnot in Mona for that purpose. Meanwhile, he himself would hold the boyat all hazards.
With skill scarcely to be expected from one of his easy-going type, hetold Joe to remain and sleep in his flat that night and that he wouldfix things for him. The terror-stricken negro was only too glad ofsympathy and protection from one of Mr. Elliott's standing, andcomplied; for he was at the mercy of his friends. What could he, acolored boy, do alone?
After tired nature had asserted herself and Joe had fallen asleep in aroom which had been given him, Elliott called up Oakes's office bytelephone. In less than an hour a dapper young man sought admission tothe apartment, and was met by Elliott. He introduced himself as"Martin--from Oakes's place." In a few words Elliott explained matters,and Martin said:
"Let Joe go to his boot-blacking stand in the morning. Get your shoesshined, and place your hand on his shoulder in conversation, so that hecan be identified before you leave. Our men will be in sight. Then meetme at the elevated station, and we will go to Mona together, if you careto do so."
"Good!" said Elliott. "I am willing; I will take my vacation that way."
And that was how, several hours later, Joe went to his boot-blackingstand, feeling secure in being near friends, and oblivious of the factthat strange eyes were watching all his movements.
A little later Elliott patronized the stand, and in leaving placed hishand on Joe's shoulder and said: "Nobody will trouble you, old fellow.Don't say a word; it will all come out right. I will back you to thelimit."
And after that several pairs of eyes watched every movement of theboot-black. Several affable strangers gave him quarters for ten-centshines. Joe was not in the police net, but he was in the vision of thosesilent men whom one cannot detect--those experts employed by men likeOakes. Escape was impossible for the negro.
Joe remained in good spirits, for had not Mr. Elliott befriended him? Hewas ignorant of the doings of those brief hours when he slept.
Elliott's going to Mona was perhaps unnecessary, but he felt a naturalcuriosity to know Oakes better, as well as to see the outcome of thecase and the effect of the evidence the negro possessed. He was alsoactuated by a desire to do all he could to establish the accuracy of theboy's statement, and to see that he obtained as good treatment as wasconsistent with the ends of justice.
He and Martin arrived at Mona the day after the murder--our first one atthe Mansion. The two stayed at the hotel and studied the town, findingit impossible to go to the Mansion without creating talk.
As Martin said: "We must go slowly and not appear too interested inOakes, or rather Clark, as he is known up here--so the office informedme. So far as we know he has nothing to do with the murder case, and we,being strangers and consequently subject to comment, must be guarded inour actions. I have seen and heard enough to realize that there is muchsuppressed excitement among the people. We must communicate with Oakesquietly, and find whether it is wise to see him. He may not desire ourpresence at the Mark place."
Quintus Oakes: A Detective Story Page 12