Out of a Labyrinth
Page 41
CHAPTER XLI.
A GATHERING OF THE FRAGMENTS.
There was a meeting of the vigilants that night and Gerry Brown, Mr.Harris, Justice Summers and myself, were present with them.
I gave them the details of my investigation, and related the cause ofDoctor Bethel's troubles. When they understood that the outlaws hadlooked upon Bethel as a detective, and their natural enemy, thevigilants were ready to anticipate the rest of my story.
When everything concerning the male members of the clique had beendiscussed, I entered a plea for Adele Lowenstein, and my audience wasnot slow to respond.
Mr. Harris arose in his place, and gave a concise account of the visitpaid by his wife and Miss Barnard to the dethroned heiress, as he hadheard it described by Mrs. Harris.
Adele Lowenstein had been sincerely grateful for their kindness, andhad consented to act precisely as they should advise, let the result bewhat it would. She would give her testimony against the horse-thieves,and trust to the mercy of the Traftonites. Her story may as well becompleted here, for there is little more to tell.
She was not made a prisoner. Mrs. Harris and Louise Barnard were not thewomen to do things by halves. They used all their influence in herfavor, and they had the vigilants and many of the best citizens to aidthem. They disarmed public opinion. They appealed to men high in powerand won their championship. They conducted their campaign wisely andthey carried the day.
There were found for Adele Lowenstein, the counterfeiter's daughter,"extenuating circumstances:" what the jury could not do the governordid, and she went out from the place, where justice had been temperedwith mercy, a free woman.
The Hill was sold, and Miss Lowenstein, who had avowed her intention ofretaking her father's name, sullied as it was, prepared to find a newhome in some far away city.
One day while the trial was pending, Gerry Brown came to me with fidgetymanner and serious countenance.
"Old man," he said, anxiously, "I've been thinking about MissLowenstein."
"Stop it, Gerry. It's a dangerous occupation for a fellow of your age."
"My, age indeed! Two years, four months and seventeen days younger thanyour ancient highness, I believe."
"A man may learn much in two years, four months, and seventeen days--,Gerry. What about Miss Lowenstein?"
"I'm sorry for the girl."
"So am I."
"Don't be a bore, old man."
"Then come to the point, youngster."
"Youngster!" indignantly, "well, I'll put that to our private account.About Miss Lowenstein, then: She is without friends, and is just thesort of woman who needs occupation to keep her out of mischief andcontented. She's ladylike and clever, and she knows the world; don't youthink she would be a good hand on the force."
I paused to consider. I knew the kind of woman that we sometimes needed,and it seemed to me that Adele Lowenstein would "be a good hand." Iknew, too, that our Chief was not entirely satisfied with one or twowomen in his employ. So I stopped chaffing Gerry and said soberly:
"Gerry, it's a good idea. We'll consult the lady and if she would likethe occupation, I will write to our Chief."
Adele Lowenstein was eager to enter upon a career so much to her taste,and our Chief was consulted. He manifested a desire to see the lady, andshe went to the city.
The interview was satisfactory to both. Adele Lowenstein became one ofour force, and a very valuable and efficient addition she proved.
I had assured Jim Long,--even yet I find it difficult to call himHarvey James,--that his name should be freed from blot or suspicion. Andit was not so hard a task as he evidently thought it.
Blake Simpson, like most scamps of his class, was only too glad to doanything that would lighten his own sentence, and when he found that theBrookhouse faction had come to grief, and that his own part in theirplot had been traced home to him by "the detectives," he weakened atonce, and lost no time in turning State's evidence. He confessed that hehad come to Trafton, in company with Dimber Joe, to "play detective," atthe instigation, and under the pay of Brookhouse senior, who had visitedthe city to procure their services. And that Arch Brookhouse hadafterward bribed him to make the assault upon Bethel, and planned themode of attack; sending him, Simpson, to Ireton, and giving him a noteto the elder Briggs, who furnished him with the little team and lightbuggy, which took him back to Trafton, where the shooting was doneprecisely as I had supposed after my investigation.
Dimber Joe made a somewhat stouter resistance, and I offered him twoalternatives.
He might confess the truth concerning the accusations under whichHarvey James had been tried and wrongfully imprisoned; in which case Iwould not testify against him except so far as he had been connectedwith the horse-thieves in the capacity of sham detective and spy. Or, hemight refuse to do Harvey James justice, in which case I would putBrooks on the witness stand to exonerate James, and I myself wouldlessen his chances for obtaining a light sentence, by showing him up tothe court as the villain he was; garroter, panel-worker, counterfeiter,burglar, and general utility rascal.
Brooks or Brookhouse was certain of a long sentence, I assured Blaikie,and he would benefit rather than injure his cause by exposing the plotto ruin and fleece James. Would Mr. Blaikie choose, and choose quickly?
And Mr. Blaikie, after a brief consideration, chose to tell the truth,and forever remove from Harvey James the brand of counterfeiter.
The testimony against the entire gang was clear and conclusive. Theelder Brookhouse, knowing this, made very little effort to defendhimself and his band, and so "The 'Squire" and Arch Brookhouse weresentenced for long terms. Louis Brookhouse, the two Briggs, Ed. Dwight,the festive, Larkins and the two city scamps, were sentenced for lesserperiods, but none escaped lightly.
Only one question, and that one of minor importance, yet lacked ananswer, and one day, before his trial, I visited Arch Brookhouse in hiscell, my chief purpose being to ask this question.
"There is one thing," I said, after a few words had passed between us,"there is one thing that I should like you to tell me, merely as amatter of self-gratification, as it is now of no special importance; andthat is, how did you discover my identity, when I went to Mrs. Ballou'sdisguised as a Swede?"
He laughed harshly.
"You detectives do not always cover up your tracks," he said, with asneer. "I don't object to telling you what you seem so curious about.'Squire Ewing and Mr. Rutger went to the city to employ you, and nodoubt you charged them to be secret as the grave concerning your plans.Nevertheless, Mr. Rutger, who is a simple-minded confiding soul, toldthe secret in great confidence to Farmer La Porte; and he repeated it,again in great confidence in the bosom of his family."
"And in the presence of his son, Johnnie?"
"Just so. When we learned that a disguised detective was coming into thecommunity, and that he would appear within a certain time, we began tolook for him, and _you_ were the only stranger we discovered."
"And you wrote me that letter of warning?"
"Precisely."
"And undoubtedly _you_ are the fellow who shot at me?"
"I am happy to say that I am."
"And I am happy to know that I have deprived you of the pleasure ofhandling firearms again for some time to come. Good morning, Mr.Brookhouse."
That was my final interview with Arch Brookhouse, but I saw him oncemore, for the last time, when I gave my testimony against him at thefamous trial of the Trafton horse-thieves.
When the whole truth concerning the _modus operandi_ of thehorse-thieves was made public at the trial, when the Traftonites learnedthat for five years they had harbored stolen horses under the verysteeples of the town, and that those horses, when the heat of the chasewas over, were boldly driven away across the country and toward theriver before a lumbering coal cart, they were astounded at the boldnessof the scheme, and the hardihood of the men who had planned it.
But they no longer marveled at their own inability to fathom so cunninga plot.