PS ^ D7 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY The Estate Of Eugene M. Ksufmann, Jr. UNDERGRADUATE LIBRARY ExLlBRIS • EvGENEA\ICwFiv\ANNJR DATE DUE - '^'■■^ re^ ^ar . mt^ ^^^'^B f D^r^b I 97^r^^ 1 —=. ■ |^rRtP§-t-- ^^ss IS * GAYLORD PRINTED IN U S.A. p PS 1322.D7 Tlor™""*"-'""^ IIIHmliimiiiif '^'^^"*'' ''^•^ctive story / 3 1924 014 393 338 The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014393338 [See page 12 'it's a birth-mark!" A DOU BLE BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY h MARK TWAIN Author of 'Huckleberry Finn" "Life on the Mississippi'' "A Yflnlsee in King Arthur's Court" etc. ILLUSTRATED BY LUCIUS HITCHCOCK NEW YORK AND LONDON HARPER & BROTHERS pU6LlSHgR§ ClcrrMffhi) ^ ^o/YtMulI Um-^Lg-un^^ y^3^./^^^ Uniform Edition of MARK TWAIN'S WORKS Red Cloth. Crown 8vo. Christian ScisNCB. lUustrated. $i-7S Thb American Claimant, Etc. 1.75 A Connecticut Yankee. Illustrated. V j.js HucsLEBERar Finn. Illustrated. (^ 1.7s Princb and Pauper. Illustrated. 1.7s Life on the Mississippi. Illustrated. 1.75 Thb Man that Corrupted Hadleyburq, Etc. Illustrated. _,,i.7S Tom Sawver Abroad, Etc. Illustrated.''^ 1.7s Adventures op Tom Sawyer.. Illustrated. i.,75 Pudd'nhead Wilson. Illustrated. K^ i.7S Sketches New and Old. Illustrated. 1.7s The $30,000 Bequest, Etc' Illustrated. 1.75 Innocents Abroad. Illustrated. \^ 2.00 RouGHiNa It. Illustrated. l^^ 2.00 A Tramp Abroad. Illustrated. s.oo Thb Gilded Age. Illustrated. 3.00 Following thb Equator. Illustrated. s.oo Joan as Arc. Illustrated. \t^ 3.50 Oliur Books by Mark Twain Captain Stormpield's Visit to Heaven!''^ With Frontispiece. $1.00 Editorial Wild Oats. Illustrated. i.oo A Horsb's Tale. Illustrated. z.oo Extracts prom Adam's Diary. Illustrated, i.oo Eve's Diary. Illustrated. i.oo A Dog's Talb. Illustrated. z.oo The Jumping Frog. Illustrated. i.oo How to Tell a Story. Etc. 1.50 A Double-barrblled Uetbctivb Story.^ Illustrated. i . 50 Is Shakespeare Dead ? net 1.25 ^^ CoDvright, tgo2, by Harper & Brothers. Published April, 1902, 8HJ ILLUSTRATIONS " it's a birth-mark I" . . . . Frontispiece HE PROCEEDED TO LASH HER TO A TREE Faeini page 8 I CAUGHT THE FAMILIAR WHIFF " 34 HE BACKED AGAINST THE WALL AS TIGHTLY AS HE COULD . " 68 "YES, I'll SAVE YOU". ... " 134 IN A MOMENT I WAS AT HIS SIDE " 158 "THE SHERIFF J" " 172 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY part IT We ought never to do wrong when people are looking A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY ;HE first scene is in the country, in Virginia; the time, 1880. There has been a wedding, between a handsome young man of slender means and a rich young girl — a case of love at first sight and a precipitate marriage; a marriage bitterly opposed by the girl's wid- owed father. Jacob Fuller, the bridegroom, is twenty-six years old, is of an old but unconsidered family which had A •wedding A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY by compulsion emigrated from Sedge- j^g moor, and for King James's purse's bride profit, so everybody said — some ma- liciously, the rest merely because they believed it. The bride is nine- teen and beautiful. She is intense, high-strung, romantic, immeasurably proud of her Cavalier blood, and passionate in her love for her young husband. For its sake she braved her father's displeasure, endured his reproaches, listened with loyalty un- shaken to his warning predictions, and went from his house without his blessing, proud and happy in the proofs she was thus giving of the quality of the affection which had made its home in her heart. The morning after the marriage A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY there was a sad surprise for her. Her husband put aside her proffered life's caresses, and said: survrise " Sit down. I have something to say to you. I loved you. That was before I asked your father to give you to me. His refusal is not my grievance — I could have endured that. But the things he said of me to you — that is a different matter. There — you needn't speak; I know quite well what they were; I got them from authentic sources. Among oth- er things he said that my character was written in my face; that I was treacherous, a dissembler, a coward, The and a brute without sense of pity or Sedge- compassion: the 'Sedgemoor trade- '^^ mark,' he called it — and 'white-sleeve '"^'^ <^^i^ 5 M^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY badge.' Any other man in my place ofTe- would have gone to his house and venge gj^Q^ Yaso. down like a dog. I wanted to do it, and was minded to do it, but a better thought came to me: to put him to shame; to break his heart; to kill him by inches. How to do it? Through my treatment of you, his idol! I would marry you; and then — Have patience. You will see." From that moment onward, for three months, the young wife suffered all the humiliations, all the insults, all the miseries that the diligent and inventive mind of the husband could contrive, save physical injuries only. Her strong pride stood by her, and she kept the secret of her troubles. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Now and then the husband said, "Why don't you go to your father tenures and tell him?" Then he invented new tortures, applied them, and asked again. She always answered, "He shall never know by my mouth," and taunted him with his origin; said she was the lawful slave of a scion of slaves, and must obey, and would — up to that point, but no further; he could kill her if he liked, but he could not break her; it was not in the Sedgemoor breed to do it. At the end of the three months he said, with a dark significance in his man- ner, " I have tried all things but one " — ^and waited for her reply. "Try that," she said, and curled her lip in mockery. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY A fiend's frenzy The hasbdnd dis- appears That night he rose at midnight and put on his clothes, then said to her, "Get up and dress 1" She obeyed — ^as always, without a word. He led her half a mile from the house, and proceeded to lash her to a tree by the side of the public road; and succeeded, she screaming and strugghng. He gagged her then, struck her across the face with his cowhide, and set his blood -hounds on her. They tore the clothes off her, and she was naked. He called the dogs off, and said : " You will be found — by the passing public. They will be dropping along about three hours from now, and will spread the news — do you hear? Good- by. You have seen the last of me." HE PROCEEDED TO LASH HER TO A TREE A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY He went away then. She moaned to herself: ^^f ay for "I shall bear a child — to him I ''^"- geance God grant it may be a boy!" The farmers released her by-and- by — and spread the news, which was natural. They raised the country with lynching intentions, but the bird had flown. The young wife shut herself up in her father's house; he shut himself up with her, and thenceforth would see no one. His pride was broken, and his heart; so he wasted away, day by day, and even his daughter rejoiced when death relieved him. Then she sold the estate and dis- appeared. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The ne'CD life n N 1886 a young woman was living in a modest house near a secluded New England village, with no company but a little boy about five years old. She did her own work, she discouraged acquaint- anceships, and had none. The butch- er, the baker, and the others that served her could tell the villagers nothing about her further than that her name was Stillman, and that she called the child Archy. Whence she 5&ia 10 m A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY came they had not been able to find out, but they said she talked like a Southerner. The child had no play- mates and no comrade, and no teacher but the mother. She taught him dili- gently and intelligently, and was sat- isfied with the results — even a little proud of them. One day Archy said, " IMamma, am I different from other children?" "Well, I suppose not. Why?" "There was a child going along out there and asked me if the post- man had been by and I said yes, and she said how long since I saw him and I said I hadn't seen him at all, and she said how did I know he'd been by, then, and I said because I smelt his track on the sidewalk, and (^Siigj II fe^® A lonely child He smelt a. man's tracks A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY she said I was a dum fool and made ^^, a mouth at me. What did she do scent oftf>^ that for?" blood- hound The young woman turned white, and said to herself, "It's a birth- mark! The gift of the blood-hound is in him." She snatched the boy to her breast and hugged him passion- ately, saying, "God has appointed the way!" Her eyes were burning with a fierce light and her breath came short and quick with excite- ment. She said to herself: "The puzzle is solved now; many a time it has been a mystery to me, the im- possible things the child has done in the dark, but it is all clear to me now." She set him in his small chair, and said, <^9^^ 12 U^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "Wait a little till I come, dear; then we will talk about the matter." She went up to her room and took from her dressing-table several small articles and put them out of sight : a nail-file on the floor under the bed; a pair of nail-scissors under the bureau; a small ivory paper-knife under the ward- Testing robe. Then she returned, and said : ^^^ "There! I have left some things ^'/^ which I ought to have brought down." She named them, and said, " Run up and -bring them, dear." The child hurried away on his er- rand and was soon back again with the things. " Did you have any difficidty, dear?" "No, mamma; I only went where you went." ^' ' 13 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The Mai aihome During his absence she had stepped to the bookcase, taken several books from the bottom shelf, opened each, passed her hand over a page, noting its number in her memory, then re- stored them to their plaices. Now she said : "I have been doing something while you have been gone, Archy. Do you think you can find out what it was?" The boy went to the bookcase and got out the books that had been touch- ed, and opened them at the pages which had been stroked. The mother took him in her lap, and said: "I will answer your question now, dear. I have foimd out that in one 14 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY way you are quite different from other people. You can see in the dark, you can smell what other people can- not, you have the talents of a blood- hound. They are good and valuable things to have, but you must keep the matter a secret. If people found it out, they would speak of you as an odd child, a strange child, and chil- dren would be disagreeable to you, and give you nicknames. In this world one must be like everybody else if he doesn't want to provoke scorn or envy or jealousy. It is a great and fine distinction which has been born to you, and I am glad; but you will keep it a secret, for mamma's sake, won't you?" The child promised, without under- standing. An odd child A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Uncanny plans To break his heart All the rest of the day the mother's brain was busy with excited think- ings; with plans, projects, schemes, each and all of them uncanny, grim, and dark. Yet they lit up her face; lit it with a fell light of their own; lit it with vague fires of hell. She was in a fever of unrest; she could not sit, stand, read, sew; there was no relief for her but in movement. She tested her boy's gift in twenty ways, and kept saying to herself all the time, with her mind in the past : "He broke my father's heart, and night and day all these years I have tried, and all in vain, to think out a way to break his. I have found it now — ^I have found it now." When night fell, the demon of un- A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY tests rest still possessed her. She went on with her tests; with a candle she traversed the house from garret to cellar, hiding pins, needles, thimbles, spools, under pillows, under carpets, in cracks in the walls, under the coal in the bin; then sent the little fellow Further in the dark to find them; which he did, and was happy and proud when she praised him arid smothered him with caresses. From this time forward life took on a new complexion for her. She said, "The future is secure — I can wait, and enjoy the waiting." The most of her lost interests revived. She took up music again, and lan- guages, drawing, painting, and the other long-discarded delights of her * ^^^. 17 fel^l® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY A heart too soft maidenhood. She was happy once more, and felt again the zest of hfe. As the years drifted by she watched the development of her boy, and was contented with it. Not altogether, but nearly that. The soft side of his heart was larger than the other side of it. It was his only defect, in her eyes. But she considered that his love for her and worship of her made up for it. He was a good hater — that was well ; but it was a question if the materials of his hatreds were of as tough and enduring a quality as those of his friendships — and that was not so well. was The years drifted on. Archy become a handsome, shapely, ath- A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY letic youth, courteous, dignified, com- panionable, pleasant in his ways, mother's and looking perhaps a trifle older *" than he was, which was sixteen. One evening his mother said she had something of grave importance to say to him, adding that he was old enough to hear it now, and old enough and possessed of character enough and stability enough to carry out a stern plan which she had been for years contriving and maturing. Then she told him her bitter story, in all its naked atrociousness. For a while the boy was paralyzed; then he said: "I understand. We are Southern- , , Inaae- ers; and by our custom and nature qoate atone there is but one atonement. I will ment search him out and kill him. 19 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Worse than death Jacob FuUer "Kill- him? No! Death is release, emancipation; death is a favor. Do I owe him favors? You must not hurt a hair of his head." The boy was lost in thought awhile; then he said: "You are all the world to me, and your desire is my law and my pleasur^. Tell me what to do and I will do it." The mother's eyes beamed with satisfaction, and she said : "You will go and find him. I have known his hiding-place for eleven years; it cost me five years and more of inquiry, and much money, to locate it. He is a quartz-miner in Colorado, and well-to-do. He lives in Denver. His name is Jacob Fuller, There — it is the first time I have spoken it since 20 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY that unforgettable night. Think I That name could have been yours if I had not saved you that shame and furnished you a cleaner one. You will drive him from that place; you will hunt him down and drive him again; and yet again, and again, and again, persistently, relentlessly, poisoning his life, filling it with mys- terious terrors, loading it with weari- ness and misery, making him wish for death, and that he had a suicide's courage; you will make of him an- other wandering Jew; he shall know no rest any more, no peace of mind, no placid sleep; you shall shadow him, cling to him, persecute him, till you break his heart, as he broke my father's and mine." Another luander- ingjerm W^^. 21 i&l^® Money And dis- guises A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "I will obey, mother." "I believe u, my child. The prep- arations are all made; everything is ready. Here is a letter of credit; spend freely, there is no lack of mon- ey. At times you may need disguises. I have provided them; also some oth- er conveniences." She took from the drawer of the type-writer table several squares of paper. They all bore these type-written words : ■ $10,000 REWARD. It is believed that a certain man who is wanted in an East- ern State is sojourning here. In 1§§0, in the night, he tied his young wife to a tree by the public road, cut her across A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY the face with a cowhide, and made his dogs tear her clothes from her, leaving her naked. He left her there, and fled the country. A blood-relative of hers has searched for him for seventeen years. Address , .Post-office. The above reward will be paid in cash to the person who will furnish the seeker, in a per- sonal interview, the crimi- nal's address. The first placard "When you have found him and acquainted yourself with his scent, you will go in the night and placard one of these upon the building he occupies, and another one upon the post-office or in some other prominent ^^SJ! 23 n^m> A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY place. It will be the talk of the region. At first you must give him several days in which to force a sale of his belongings at something approach- Careful jjjg ^^^ value. We will ruin him cmetty ° by-and-by, but gradually; we must not impoverish him at once, for that could bring him to despair and injure his health, possibly kill him." She took three or four more iypQ- written forms from the drawer — du- plicates — and read one: 18.... To Jacob Fuller.: You have days in which to settle your affairs. You will not be disturbed during that limit, which will expire at M. , on the of A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY .. You must then MOVE ON. If you are still in the place after the named hour, I will placard you on all the dead walls, detailing your crime once more, and adding the date, also the scene of it, with all names concerned, including your own. Have no fear of bodily injury — it will in no circumstances ever be in- flicted upon you. You brought misery upon an old man, and ruined his life and broke his heart. What he suffered, you are to suffer. The second placard "You will add no signature. He must receive this before he learns of the reward - placard — before he rises 25 fe A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY in the morning — ^lest he lose his head ^■^^ and fly the place penniless." "I shall not forget/' "You will need to use these forms only in the heginning — once may be enough. Afterward, when you are ready for him to vanish out of a place, see that he gets a copy of this form, which merely says: MOVE ON. You have ■. . days. " He will obey. That is sure." (^^^ 26 fei^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY m Extracts from Letters to the Mother. Denver, April 3, 1897. ; HAVE now been living ' several days in the same i hotel with Jacob Fuller, i I have his scent; I could track him through ten divisions of in- fantry and find him. I have often been near him and heard him talk. He owns a good mine, and has a fair income from it ; but he is not rich. He learned mining in a good way — ^by working at it for wages. He is a cheerful Gose to his prey A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY creature, and his forty -three years tglT- s>t lightly upon him; he could pass sonaMiy f^^ ^ younger man— -say thirty -six or thirty-seven. He has never mar- ried again — passes himself off for a widower. He stands well, is liked, is popular, and has many friends. Even I feel a drawing toward him — the paternal blood in me making its claim. How blind and unreasoning and arbitrary are some of the laws of nature — the most of them, in fact! My task is become hard now — ^you realize it? you comprehend, and make allowances? — and the fire of it has cooled, more than I like to confess to myself. But I will carry it out. Even with the pleasure paled, the duty re- mains, and I will not spare him. ^sii 28 fe^*®® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY And for my help, a sharp resent- ment rises in me when I reflect that he who committed that odious crime is the only one who has not suffered by it. The lesson of it has mani- festly reformed his character, and in the change he is happy. He, the guilty party, is absolved from all suf- fering; you, the innocent, are borne down with it. But be comforted — he shall harvest his share. Silver Gulch, May 19. I placarded Form No. i at midnight of April 3; an hour later I slipped Form No. 2 under his chamber door, notifying him to leave Denver at or before 11.50 the night of the 14th. Some late bird of a reporter stole ^^M 29 M^ Happy criminal The Icoarn- ing A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The "scoop" one of my placards, then hunted the town over and found the other one, and stole that. In this manner he accomplished what the profession call a " scoop " — that is, he got a valuable item, and saw to it that no other pa- per got it. And so his paper — the principal one ir^ the town — ^had it in glaring type on the editorial page in the morning, followed by a Vesuvian opinion of our wretch a column long, which wound up by adding a thou- sand dollars to our reward on the paper's account I The journals out here know how to do the noble thing — when there's business in it. At breakfast I occupied my usual seat — selected because it afforded a view of papa Fuller's face, and was 30 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY near enough for me to hear the talk that went on at his table. Seventy- nwHai five or a hundred people were in the by^fi Of room, and all discussing that item, . ^^et and saying they hoped the seeker would find that rascal and remove the pollution of his presence from the town — with a rail, or a bullet, or something. When Fuller came in he had the Notice to Leave — folded up — in one hand, and the newspaper in the other; and it gave me more than half a pang to see him. His cheerfulness was all gone, and he looked old and pinched and ashy. And then — only think of the things he had to listen to! Mam- ma, he heard his own unsuspecting friends describe him with epithets ^^^ 31 fei^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Calls himself names and characterizations drawn from the very dictionaries and phrase-books of Satan's own authorized editions down below. And more than that, he had to agree with the verdicts and applaud them. His applause tasted bitter in his mouth, though; he could not disguise that from me; and it was observable that his appetite was gone; he only nibbled ; he couldn't eat. Fi- nally a man said : "It is quite likely that that rela- tive is in the room and hearing what this toACTi thinks of that unspeak- able scoundrel. I hope so." Ah, dear, it was pitiful the way Fuller winced, and glanced around scared! He couldn't endure any more, and got up and left. 32 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STOIiY During several days he gave out that he had bought a mine in Mexico, ^^ and wanted to sell out and go down there as soon as he could, and give the property his personal attention. He played his cards well; said he would take $40,000 — a quarter in cash, the rest in safe notes; but that as he greatly needed money on ac- cotmt of his new purchase, he would diminish his terms for cash in full. He sold out for $30,000. And then, what do you think he did? He asked for greenbacks, and took them, say- ing the man in Mexico was a New- Englander, with a head full of crotch- ets, and preferred greenbacks to gold or drafts. People thought it queer, since a draft on New York could pro- 3 (^^^ 33 !6^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY duce greenbacks quite conveniently. There was talk of this odd thing, but only for a day ; that is as long as any topic lasts in Denver. I was watching, all the time. As soon as the sale was completed and the money paid-rwhich was on the Sticking Ilth — I began to stick to Fuller's trail track without dropping it for a mo- ment. That night — ^no, 12th, for it was a little past midnight — ^I tracked him to his room, which was four doors from mine in the same hall, then I went back and put on my muddy day-laborer disguise, darkened my complexion, and sat down in my room in the gloom, with a gripsack handy, with a change in it, and my door ajar. For I suspected that the bird would ^a 34 I CAUGHT THE FAMILIAR WHIFF A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY take wing now. In half an hour an old woman passed by, carrying a grip ; Dis- I caught the familiar whiff and fol- guised us a. lowed, with my grip, for it was Fuller. woman He left the hotel by a side entrance, and at the comer he turned up an unfrequented street and walked three blocks in a light rain and a heavy darkness, and got into a two-horse hack, which, of course, was waiting for him by appointment. I took a seat (uninvited) on the trunk plat- form behind, and we drove briskly off. We drove ten miles, and the hack stopped at a way station and was discharged. Fuller got out and took a seat on a barrow under the awning, as far as he could get from the light; I went inside, and watched the ticket- ^^i 35 la^© On the train False 'whisk- ers A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY office. Fuller bought no ticket; I bought none. Presently the train came along, and he boarded a car; I entered the same car at the other end, and came down the aisle and took the seat behind him. When he paid the conductor and named his objective point, I dropped back several seats, while the conductor was changing a bill, and when he came to me I paid to the same place — ^about a himdred miles westward. From that time for a week on end he led me a dance. He travelled here and there and yonder — always on a general westward trend — but he was not a woman after the first day. He was a laborer, like myself, and wore bushy false whiskers. His outfit was ^^j 36 !a^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY perfect, and he could do the character without thinking about it, for he had served the trade for wages. His near- est friend could not have recognized him. At last he located himself here, the obscurest Uttle mountain camp in Montana; he has a shanty, and LMng goes out prospecting daily; is gone shanty all day, and avoids society. I am living at a miner's boarding-house, and it is an awful place: the bunks, the food, the dirt — everything. We have been here four weeks, and in that time I have seen him but once; but every night I go over his track and post myself. As soon as he engaged a shanty here I went to a town fifty miles away and telegraphed that Denver hotel to keep my baggage ^sb^ 37 !&^^ A DOU BLE-B A RRELt-ED DETECTIVE STORY till I should send for it. I need noth- ing here but a change of army shirts, and I brought that with me. Silver Gulch, June 12. The Denver episode has never found its way here, I think. I know the most of the men in camp, and they have never referred to it, at least in *■»/?«' ™y hearing. Fuller doubtless feels fff. quite safe in these conditions. He has located a claim, two miles away, in an out-of-the-way place in the mountains; it promises very well, and he is working it diligently. Ah, but the change in him! He never smiles, and he keeps quite to him- self, consorting with no one — ^he who was so fond of company and so cheery A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY only two months ago. I have seen him passing along several times re- forlom Droc) cently — drooping, forlorn, the spring m^an. gone from his step, a pathetic figure. He calls himself David Wilson. I can trust him to remain here until we disturb him. Since you insist, I will banish him again, but I do not see how he can be unhappier than he already is. I will go back to Denver and treat myself to a little season of comfort, and edible food, and endur- able beds, and bodily decency; then I will fetch my things, and notify poor papa Wilson to move on. Denver, Jum 19. They miss him here. They all hope he is prospering in Mexico, and they A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY TTiey are alt Sony do not say it just with their mouths, but out of their hearts. You know you can always tell. I am loitering here overlong, I confess it. But if you were in my place you would have charity for me. Yes, I know what you will say, and you are right: if I were in your place, and carried yoiir scalding memories in my heart — I will take the night train back to- morrow. Denver, June 20. God forgive us, mother, we are himting the wrong man I I have not slept any all night. I am now wait- ing, at dawn, for the morning train — and how the minutes drag, how they drag! This Jacob Fuller is a cousin of iunting the 'wrong man ^^M 40 fe A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY the guilty one. How stupid we have been not to reflect tliat the guilty one would never again wear his own name after that fiendish deed! The Denver Fuller is four years yovinger than the other one; he came here a young widower in '^% aged twenty- one — a year before you were married; and the documents to prove it are in- numerable. Last night I talked with familiar friends of his who have known him from the day of his arrival. I said nothing, but a few days from now I will land him in this town again, with the loss upon his mine made good; and there will be a banquet, and a torch-light procession, and there will not be any expense on anybody but me. Do you call this "gush"? Not the crimined 41 ^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY I am only a boy, as you well know; it is my privilege. By-and-by I shall not be a boy any more. Silver Gulch, July 3. Gone Mother, he is gone! Gone, and left and left no no trace. The scent was cold when I came. To-day I am out of bed for the first time since. I wish I were not a boy; then I could stand shocks better. They all think he went west. I start to-night, in a wagon — ^two or three hours of that, then I get a train. I don't know where I'm going, but I must go; to try to keep still would be torture. Of course he has effaced himself with a new name and a disguise. This means that I may have to search A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY hunter the whole globe to find him. Indeed it is what I expect. Do you see, moth- er? It is I that am the Wandering ^""^'^ Jew. The irony of itl We arranged that for another. Think of the difficulties! And there would be none if I only could advertise for him. But if there is any way to do it that would not frighten him, I have not been able to think it out, and I have tried till my brains are addled. "If the gentleman who lately bought a mine in Mexico and sold one in Denver will send his ad- dress to" (to whom, mother?), "it will be explained to him that it was all a mistake; his forgiveness will be asked, and full reparation made for a loss which he sustained in a @^^ 43 feJ^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY certain matter." Do you see? He would think it a trap. Well, any one would. If I should say, "It is now Not the known that he was not the man wanted, man tua-nted but another man — a man who once bore the same name, but discarded it for good reasons" — would that an- swer? But the Denver people would wake up then and say "Oho!" and they would remember about the sus- picious greenbacks, and say, "Why did he run away if he wasn't the right man? — it is too thin." If I failed to find him he would be ruined there — there where there is no taint upon him now. You have a better head than mine. Help me. I have one clew, and only one. I know his handwriting. If he puts 44 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY his new false name upon a hotel regis- ter and does not disguise it too much, it will be valuable to me if I ever run across it. San Francisco, June 28, 1898. You already know how well I have searched the States from Colorado to the Pacific, and how nearly I came to getting him once. Well, I have had another close miss. It was here, yesterday. I struck his trail, hot, on the street, and followed it on a run to a cheap hotel. That was a costly mistake; a dog would have gone the other way. But I am only part dog, and can get very humanly stupid when excited. He had been stopping in that house ten days; I A dose miss A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY keep moving almost know, now, that he stops long Has to nowhere, the past six or eight months, but is restless and has to keep moving. I understand that feeling ! and I know what it is to feel it. He still uses the name he had registered when I came so near catching him nine months ago — " James Walker " ; doubtless the same he adopted when he fled from Silver Gulch. An unpretending man, and has small taste for fancy names. I recognized the hand easily, through its slight disguise. A square man, and not good at shams and pretences. They said he was just gone, on a journey; left no address; didn't say where he was going; looked fright- ened when asked to leave his address ; had no baggage but a cheap va- A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY lise; carried it off on foot — a "stingy old person, and not much loss to the The aging house." "Old!" I suppose he is, crim- now. I hardly heard; I was there but a moment. I rushed along his trail, and it led me to a wharf. Moth- er, the smoke of the steamer he had taken was just fading out on the hori- zon! I should have saved half an hour if I had gone in the right direc- tion at first. I could have taken a fast tug, and should have stood a chance of catching that vessel. She is bound for Melbourne. Hope Canyon, California, October 3, 1900-. You have a right to complain. "A letter a year" is a paucity; I freely acknowledge it; but how can itud A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Chased avef the 'world one write when there is nothing to write about but failures? No one can keep it up ; it breaks the heart. I told you — it seems ages ago, now — how I missed him at Melbourne, and then chased him all over Australasia for months on end. Well, then, after that I followed him to India ; almost saw him in Bombay ; traced him all around — to Baroda, Rawal-Pindi, Lucknow, Lahore. Cawn- pore, Allahabad, Calcutta, Madras — oh, everywhere; week after week, month after month, through the dust and swelter — always approximately on his track, sometimes close upon him, yet never catching him. And down to Ceylon, and then to — Never mind ; by-and-by I will write it all out. ^SM' 48 fe^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY I chased him home to California, and down to Mexico, and back again to CaUfornia. Since then I have been hunting him about the State from the first of last January down to a month ago. I feel almost sure he is not far from Hope Canyon; I traced him to a point thirty miles from here, but there I lost the trail; some one gave him a lift in a wagon, I suppose. I am taking a rest, now — modi- fied by searchings for the lost trail. I was tired to death, mother, and low- spirited, and sometimes coming un- comfortably near to losing hope; but the miners in this little camp are good fellows, and I am used to their sort this long time back; and their breezy ways freshen a person up and Back in Califor- nia. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY mayer make him forget his troubles. I have been here a month, I am cabining Sammy with a yomig fellow named "Sam- my" Hillyer, about twenty-five, the only son of his mother — like me — and loves her dearly, and writes to her every week — part of which is like me. He is a timid body, and in the matter of intellect — well, he cannot be depended upon to set a river on fire; but no matter, he is well liked; he is good and fine, and it is meat and bread and rest and luxury to sit and talk with him and have a comradeship again. I wish "James Walker" could have it. He had friends; he liked company. That brings up that picture of him, the time that I saw him last. The pathos ^50 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY of it! It comes before me often and often. At that very time, poor thing, I was girding up my conscience to make him move on again! Hillyer's heart is better than mine, better than anybody's in the com- munity, I suppose, for he is the one The friend of the black sheep of the camp bUu:k — ^Flint Buckner — and the only man * "'' Flint ever talks with or allows to talk with him. He says he knows Flint's history, and that it is trouble that has made him what he is, and so one ought to be as charitable tow- ard him as one can. Now none but a pretty large heart could find space to accommodate a lodger like Flint Buckner, from all I hear about him outside. I think that this one de- 51 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY tail will give you a better idea of Sammy's character than any labored- out description I could furnish you of him. In one of our talks he said something about like this: "Flint's a kinsman of mine, and he pours out all his troubles to me — empties his breast from time to time, or I reckon it would biurst. There couldn't be cH num. of any unhappier man, Archy Stillman; his life has been made up of misery of mind — ^he isn't near as old as he looks. He has lost the feel of re- posef ulness and peace — oh, years and years agol He doesn't know what good luck is — never has had any; often says he wishes he was in the other hell, he is so tired of this one." 52 misefy A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY IV No real gentleman will tell the naked truth in the presence of ladies T was a crisp and spicy morning in early Octo- ber. The lilacs and la- burnums, lit with the glory-fires of autumn, himg burning and flashing in the upper air, a fairy bridge provided by kind Natiu-e for the wingless wild things that have their homes in the tree-tops and would visit together ; the larch and the pome- granate flung their purple and yel- ^^^: 53 isi^f) Fine da.ys and •words A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY low flames in brilliant broad splashes f^ne along the slanting sweep of the wood- ti^yif land; the sensuous fragrance of in- •words numerable deciduous flowers rose upon the swooning atmosphere; far in the empty sky a solitary cesophagus slept upon motionless wing; everywhere brooded stillness, serenity, and the peace of God. October is the time — 1900 ; Hope Canyon is the place, a silver-mining camp away down in the Esmeralda region. It is a secluded spot, high and remote; recent as to discovery; thought by its occupants to be rich in metal — a year or two's prospect- ing will decide that matter one way or the other. For inhabitants, the camp has about two hundred miners. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY camp one white woman and child, several Chinese washermen, five squaws, and -^ "^^ a dozen vagrant buck Indians in rab- bit-skin robes, battered plug hats, and tin -can necklaces. There are no mills as yet; there is no chiu-ch, no newspaper. The camp has ex- isted but two years; it has made no big strike; the world is ignorant of its name and place. On both sides of the canyon the mountains rise wall-like, three thou- sand feet, and the long spiral of strag- gling huts down in its narrow bottom gets a kiss from the sun only once a day, when he sails over at noon. The village is a couple of miles long; the cabins stand well apart from each other. The tavern is the only " frame " ^^^55 E^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The taroern house — the only house, one might say. It occupies a central position, and is the evening resort of the pop- ulation. They drink there, and play seven-up and dominoes ; also billiards, for there is a table, crossed all over with torn places repaired with court- plaster; there are some cues, but no leathers ; some chipped balls which clatter when they rvm, and do not slow up gradually, but stop suddenly and sit down; there is part of a cube of chalk, with a projecting jag of flint in it ; and the man who can score six on a single break can set up the drinks at the bar's expense. Flint Buckner's cabin was the last one of the village, going south; his 56 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY silver claim was at the other end of the village, northward, and a little beyond the last hut in that direction. He was a sour creature, unsociable, ^ ^o^ creaiare and had no companionships. Peo- ple who had tried to get acquainted with him had regretted it and dropped him. His history was not known. Some believed that Sammy Hillyer knew it; others said no. If asked, Hillyer said no, he was not acquainted with it. Flint had a meek English youth of sixteen or seventeen with him, whom he treated roughly, both in public and in private, and of course this lad was applied to for informa- tion, but with no success. Fetlock Jones — name of the youth — said that Flint picked him up on a prospecting A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY tramp, and as he had neither home nor friends in America, he had foimd it wise to stay and take Buckner's Sahrv hard usage for the sake of the salary, bacon which was bacon and beans. Further and beans than this he could offer no testimony. Fetlock had been in this slavery for a month now, and under his meek exterior he was slowly consuming to a cinder with the insults and hu- miliations which his master had put upon him. For the meek suffer bitter- ly from these hurts; more bitterly, perhaps, than do the manlier sort, who can burst out and get relief with words or blows when the limit of endurance has been reached. Good-hearted peo- ple wanted to help Fetlock out of his trouble, and tried to get him to leave A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Buckner; but the boy showed fright at the thought, and said he "dasn't." ^/^^^.^ Pat Rdey lu-ged him, and said: " You leave the damned hunks and come with me; don't you be afraid. I'll take care of him." The boy thanked him with tears in his eyes, but shuddered and said he "dasn't risk it"; he said Flint would catch him alone, some time, in the night, and then— " Oh, it makes me sick, Mr. Riley, to think of it." Others said, "Run away from him; we'll stake you; skip out for the coast some night." But all these sugges- tions failed; he said Flint would hunt him down and fetch him back, just for meanness. The people could not imderstand ^Siiil 59 feii^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The probtem of murdei' this. The boy's miseries went stead- ily on, week after week. It is quite likely that the people would have understood if they had known how he was employing his spare time. He slept in an out-cabin near Flint's; and there, nights, he nursed his bruis- es and his humiliations, and studied and studied over a single problem — how he could murder Flint Buckner and not be found out. It was the only joy he had in life; these hours were the only ones in the twenty-four which he looked forward to with eager- ness and spent in happiness. He thought of poison. No — that would not serve; the inquest would reveal where it was procured and who had procured it. He thought of a shot #^^ 60 '&ii^> A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY in the back in a lonely place when Flint would be homeward-bound at midnight — his unvarying hour for the trip. No — somebody might be near, and catch him. He thought of stabbing him in his sleep. No — he might strike an inefficient blow, and Flint would seize him. He ex- amined a htmdred different ways — none of them would answer; for in even the very obscurest and secretest of them there was always the fatal ■^ The defect of a risk, a chance, a possibil- risk in ity that he might be found out. He would have none of that. But he was patient, endlessly patient. There was no hurry, he said to himself. He would never leave Flint till he left him a corpse; 6i kitUng A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY there was no hurry — he would find the way. It was somewhere, and he would endure shame and pain and misery until he found it. Yes, somewhere there was a way which Re- •oenge would leave not a trace, not even the is sloa.y ^^yi U^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY NigM of the tragedy HE next day came and went. It is now almost mid- night, and in five min- utes the new morning will begin. The scene is in the tavern billiard-room. Rqugh men in rough clothing, slouch hats, breeches stuffed into boot-tops, some with vests, none with coats, are grouped about the boiler -iron stove, which has ruddy cheeks and is dis- tributing a grateful warmth; the bill- iard-balls are clacking; there is no A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY other sound — that is, within ; the wind is fitfully moaning without. The men look bored; also expectant. A hulk- ing, broad-shouldered miner, of mid- dle age, with grizzled whiskers, and an tmfriendly eye set in an tmsociable face, rises, slips a coil of fuse upon his arm, gathers up some other per- sonal properties, and departs without word or greeting to anybody. It is Flint Buckner. As the door closes behind him a btizz of talk breaks out. "The regularest man that ever was," said Jake Parker, the black- method smith; "you can tell when it's twelve just by him leaving, without looking at your Waterbury." "And it's the only virtue he's got, 73 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY as fur as I know," said Peter Hawes, miner. A bUght " He's just a blight on this society," on society said Wells - Fargo's man, Ferguson. " If I was running this shop I'd make him say something, some time or other, or vamos the ranch." This with a suggestive glance at the bar- keeper, who did not choose to see it, since the man under discussion was a good customer, and went home pretty well set up, every night, with refreshments furnished from \he bar. "Say," said Ham Sandwich, miner, "does any of you boys ever recollect of him asking you to take a drink?" "Him? Flint Buckner? Oh, Laura!" This sarcastic rejoinder came in a ^;$>^ 74 fei^@ A DOU BIvE-B A RRELL E D DETECTIVE STORY spontaneous general outburst in one form of words or another from the crowd. After a brief silence, Pat Riley, miner, said: "He's the 15 -puzzle, that cuss. The 15- And his boy's another one. I can't pazzh make them out." "Nor anybody else," said Ham Sandwich; "and if they are 15-puz- zles, how are you going to rank up that other one? When it comes to A I right-down solid mysteriousness, he laj's over both of them. Kasy — don't he?" "You bet!" Everybody said it. Every man but one. He was the new-comer — Pe- terson. He ordered the drinks all round, and asked who No. 3 might di^ia 75 a^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Afx)y mystery be. All answered at once, "Archy Stillman!" "Is he a mystery?" asked Peter- son. "Is he a. mystery? Is Archy Still- man a mystery?" said Wells-Fargo's man, Ferguson. "Why, the fourth dimension's foolishness to Mm,." For Ferguson was learned. Peterson wanted to hear all about him; everybody wanted to tell him; everybody began. But Billy Stevens, the barkeeper, called the house to or- der, and said one at a time was best. He distributed the drinks, and ap- pointed Ferguson to lead. Fergu- son said: "Well, he's a boy. And that is just about all we know about him. 76 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY You c£ui pump him till you are tired; it ain't any use; you won't get any- thing. At least about his intentions, or line of business, or where he's from, and such things as that. And as for getting at the nature and get- up of his main big chief mystery, why, he'll just change the subject, that's all. You can guess till you're black in the face — it's your privilege — but suppose you do, where do you arrive at? Nowhere, as near as I can make out." " What is his big chief one?" "Sight, maybe. Hearing, maybe. Instinct, maybe. Magic, maybe. Take your choice — grown-ups, twenty-five; children and servants, half price. Now I'll tell you what he can do. You Not to be pumped A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY can start here, and just disappear; you can go and hide wherever you fUm want to, I don't care where it is, nor how far — and he'll go straight and put his finger on you." "You don't mean it I" " I just do, though. Weather's noth- ing to him — elemental conditions is nothing to him — he don't even take notice of them." "Oh, come! Dark? Rain? Snow? Hey?" "It's all the same to him. He don't give a damn." "Oh, say — including fog, per'aps?" " Fog ! he's got an eye 't can plunk through it like a bullet." "Now, boys, honor bright, what's he giving me?" 'spose; fetch her home, feed her, Btlly s she heap much hungry — go 'sleep 'gin." In her limitless gratitude the happy mother waived rank and hugged him too, calling him "the angel of God in disguise." And he probably was in disguise if he was that kind of an official. He was dressed for the character. At half past one in the morning the procession burst into the village, singing " When Johnny Comes March- ing Home," waving its lanterns, and A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY swallowing the drinks that were brought out all along its course. It concentrated at the tavern, and made a night of what was left of the morn- ing. Made a. night of a @SiM 91 ly^^© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY part 1T1I «S&^ 93 la^^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY HE next afternoon the village was electrified with an immense sen- sation. A grave and dignified foreigner of distinguished bearing and appearance had arrived at the tavern, and entered this for- midable name upon the register: Sherlock Holmes. The news buzzed from cabin to cabin, from claim to claim; tools were dropped, and the town swarmed 95 iSherlock Holmes I A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY toward the centre of interest. A man l^f^'g passing out at the northern end of uncle the village shouted it to Pat Riley, whose claim was the next one to Flint Buckner's. At that time Fet- lock Jones seemed to turn sick. He muttered to himself : " Uncle Sherlock ! The mean luck of it! — that he should come just when ..." He dropped into a rev- erie, and presently said to himself: "But what's the use of being afraid of him? Anybody that knows him the way I do knows he can't detect a crime, except when he plans it all out beforehand and arranges the clews and hires some fellow to commit it according to instructions. . . . Now there ain't going to be any clews 96 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY this time — so, what show has he got? None at all. No, sir; everything's ready. If I was to risk putting it off. . . . No, I won't run any risk like that. Flint Buckner goes out of this world to-night, for sure." Then an- other trouble presented itself. "Un- cle Sherlock '11 be wanting to talk home matters with me this evening, and how am I going to get rid of him? for I've ^ to be at my cabin a minute J^„ or two about eight o'clock." This ^^^^'^ was an awkward matter, and cost him much thought. But he found a way to beat the difficulty. "We'll go for a walk, and I'll leave him in the road a minute, so that he won't , see what it is I do: the best way to throw a detective off the track, any- 97 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY way, is to have him along when you are preparing the thing. Yes, that's the safest — I'll take him with me." Meantime the road in front of the tavern was blocked with villagers The waiting and hoping for a glimpse of shaidom of the great man. But he kept his great- ness room, and did not appear. None but Ferguson, Jake Parker the black- smith, and Ham Sandwich had any luck. These enthusiastic admirers of the great scientific detective hired the tavern's detained baggage lockup, which looked into the detective's room across a little alle5rway ten or twelve feet wide, ambushed themselves in it, and cut some peep-holes in the win- dow-blind. Mr. Holmes's blinds were <^&^' g8 ly^© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Sherlock in- down; but by-and-by he raised them. It gave the spies a hair-lifting but pleasurable thrill to find themselves spected face to face with the Extraordinary Man who had filled the world with the fame of his more than human ingenuities. There he sat — not a m3d;h, not a shadow, but real, alive, compact of substance, and almost within touching distance with the hand. "Look at that head!" said Fergu- son, in an awed voice. " By gracious ! that's a head!" "You bet!" said the blacksmith, with deep reverence. "Look at his nose! look at his eyes! Intellect? Just a battery of it!" "And that paleness," said Ham A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Sandwich. "Comes from thought— duffers Uke us don't know what real thought is." "No more we don't," said Fergu- son. "What we take for thinking is just blubber-and-slush." " Right you are, Wells-Fargo. And look at that frown — that's deep think- ing — away down, down, forty fathom into the bowels of things. He's on the track of something." "Well, he is, and don't you forget it. Say — look at that awful gravity — ^look at that pallid solemness — there ain't any corpse can lay over it" " No, sir, not for dollars ! And it's his'n by hereditary rights, too; he's been dead four times a'ready, 100 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY and there's history for it. Three times natural, once by accident. I've heard say he smells damp and cold, like a grave. And he — " "'Sh! Watch him 1 There — he's got his thumb on the bump on the near corner of his forehead, and his forefinger on the off one. His think- Grind- works is just a-grinding now, you bet "^^^ your other shirt." "That's so. And now he's gazing up toward heaven and stroking his mustache slow, and — " "Now he has rose up standing, and is putting his clews together on his left fingers with his right finger. See? he touches the forefinger — now middle finger — ^now ring-finger — " "Stuck!" A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "Look at him scowl! He can't seem to make out that clew. So he — " "See him smile! — ^like a tiger — and tally off the other fingers like thinking nothing! He's got it, boys; he's got it sure!" "WeU, I should say! I'd hate to be in that man's place that he's after." Mr, Holmes drew a table to the window, sat down with his back to the spies, and proceeded to write. The spies withdrew their eyes from the peep-holes, lit their pipes, and settled themselves for a comfortable smoke and talk. Ferguson said, with conviction : "Boys, it's no use talking, he's a wonder! He's got the signs of it all over him." 1^^;^ 102 &^^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "You hain't ever said a truer word than that, Wells-Fargo," said Jake Parker. "Say, wouldn't it 'a' been nuts if he'd a -been here last night?" "Oh, by George, but wouldn't it!" said Ferguson. "Then we'd have seen scientific work. Intellect — just pure intellect — away up on the upper levels, dontchuknow. Archy is all right, and it don't become anybody to belittle him, I can tell you. But his gift is only just eyesight, sharp as an owl's, as near as I can make it out just a grand natural animal tal- ent, no more, no less, and prime as far as it goes, but no intellect in it, and for awfulness and marvellous- ness no more to be compared to what 103 Scien- tific detect ing \ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Sher- lock's method this man does than — than — Why, let me tell you what he'd have done. He'd have stepped over to Hogan's and glanced — just glanced, that's all — at the premises, and that's enough. See everything? Yes, sir, to the last little detail; and he'd know more about that place than the Hogans would know in seven years. Next, he would sit down on the bunk, just as ca'm, and say to Mrs. Hogan — ; Say, Ham, consider that you are Mrs. Hogan. I'll ask the questions; you answer them." "All right; go on." "Madam, if you please — attention — do not let your mind wander. Now, then — sex of the child?" "Female, your Honor." 104 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Just ques- tions " Um — female. Very good, very good. Age?" "Turned six, your Honor." "Um — young, weak — two miles. Weariness will overtake it then. It will sink down and sleep. We shall find it two miles away, or less. Teeth?" " Five, your Honor, and one a-com- ing." "Very good, very good, very good indeed. You see, boys, ke knows a clew when he sees it, when it wouldn't mean a dem thing to anybody else. Stockings, madam? Shoes?" "Yes, your Honor — both." "Yam, perhaps? Morocco?" "Yarn, your Honor. And kip." "Um — ^kip. This complicates the @^^ 105 hi)^^ And then I A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY matter. However, let it go — we shall manage. Religion?" "Catholic, your Honor." "Very good. Snip me a bit from the bed blanket, please. Ah, thanks. Part wool — foreign make. Very well. A snip from some garment of the child's, please. Thanks. Cotton. Shows wear. An excellent clew, excellent. Pass me a pellet of the floor dirt, if you'll be so kind. Thanks, many thanks. Ah, admirable, ad- mirable! Now we know where we are, I think. You see, boys, he's got all the clews he wants now; he don't need anything more. Now, then, what does this Extraordinary Man do? He lays those snips and that dirt out on the table and leans g^^i! io6 fei^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY over them on his elbows, and puts them together side by side and studies them — mumbles to himself, 'Female'; changes them around — mumbles, 'Six years old'; changes them this way and that — again mum- bles : ' Five teeth — one a-coming — More CathoUc — yarn — cotton — kip — thinking damn that kip. ' Then he straight- ens up and gazes toward heaven, and ploughs his hands through his hair — ploughs and ploughs, mutter- ing, ' Damn that Idp ! ' Then he stands up and frowns, and begins to tally off his clews on his fingers — and gets stuck at the ring-finger. But only just a minute — then his face glares all up in a smile like a house afire, and he straightens up stately and (^&^ 107 y^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY majestic, and says to the crowd, ' Take a lantern, a couple of you, and go down to Injun Billy's and fetch the child — the rest of you go long home to bed; good-night, madam; good- night, gents.' And he bows like the Matterhorn, and pulls out for the Easy style tavern. That's his styk, and the Only — scientific, intellectual — all over in fifteen minutes — no poking around all over the sage-brush range an hour and a half in a mass-meeting crowd for him, boys — you hear me I" "By Jackson, it's grand!" said Ham Sandwich. " Wells-Fargo, you've got him down to a dot. He ain't painted up any exacter to the life in the books. By George, I can just see him -can't you, boys?" A DOUBLE-BARRELLED ^ DETECTIVE STORY "You bet you! It's just a photo- "Made graft, that's what it is." Ferguson was profoundly pleased in Ger- many" with his success, and gratefiil. He sat silently enjoying his happiness a little while, then he murmured, with a deep awe in his voice, " I wonder if God made him?" There was no response for a mo- ment; then Ham Sandwich said, rev- erently, "Not all at one time, I reckon.'" ^&^ X09 '^^^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY n The doomed cabin T eight o'clock that even- ing two persons were groping their way past Flint Buckner's cabin in the frosty gloom. They were Sher- lock Holmes and his nephew. "Stop here in the road a moment, uncle," said Fetlock, "while I run to my cabin; I won't be gone a minute." He asked for something — ^the uncle furnished it — then he disappeared in the darkness, but soon returned, and ^^^ no fe^^s^ the tafoem A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY the talking-walk was resumed. By nine o'clock they had wandered back B^ck to to the tavern. They worked their way through the billiard-room, where a crowd had gathered in the hope of getting a glimpse of the Extraordinary Man. A royal cheer was raised. Mr. Holmes acknowledged the compliment with a series of courtly bows, and as he was passing out his nephew said to the assemblage, "Uncle Sherlock's got some work to do, gentlemen, that '11 keep him till twelve or one, but he'll be down again then, or earlier if he can, and hopes some of you'll be left to take a drink with him." "By George, he's just a duke, boys! Three cheers for Sherlock ^&i^ III fei^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Holmes, the greatest man that ever lived!" shouted Ferguson. "Hip, hip, hip—" "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Tiger!" To treat The uproar shook the building, his ajd~ mtrefs SO hearty was the feelmg the boys put into their welcome. Upstairs the uncle reproached the nephew gently, saying, "What did you get me into that engagement for?" " I reckon you don't want to be un- popular, do you, tmcle? Well, then, don't you put on any exclusiveness in a mining-camp, that's all. The boys admire you; but if you was to leave without taking a drink with them, they'd set you down for a snob. And, besides, you said you had home A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY talk enough in stock to keep us up and at it half the night." The boy was right, and wise — the uncle acknowledged it. The boy was wise in another detail which he did not mention, — except to himself: "Uncle and the others will come handy — in the way of nailing an alibi where it can't be budged." He and his uncle talked diligently about three hours. Then, about mid- night. Fetlock stepped down stairs and took a position in the dark a dozen steps from the tavern, and waited. Five minutes later Flint Buckner came rocking oixt of the billiard-room and almost brushed him as he passed. "I've got him!" muttered the boy. An aUbi "3 tier s last •walk A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY He continued to himself, looking after Buck- the shadowy form: "Good-by — good- ie/ ^y ^°^ good' Flint Buckner; you called my mother a — well, never mind what; it's all right, now; you're tak- ing your last walk, friend." He went musing back into the tavern. "From now till one is an hour. We'll spend it with the boys; it's good for the alibi." He brought Sherlock Holmes to the bilhard-room, which was jammed with eager and admiring miners; the guest called the drinks, and the fun began. Everybody was happy; ev- erybody was complimentary; the ice was soon broken; songs, anecdotes, and more drinks followed, and the pregnant minutes flew. At six min- A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY utes to one, when the jollity was at its highest — Boom! There was silence instantly. The j^^ deep sound came rolling and rumbling ^^j^ from peak to peak up the gorge, then died down, and ceased. The spell broke, then, and the men made a rush for the door, saying, "Something's blown up!" Outside, a voice in the darkness said, "It's away down the gorge; I saw the flash." The crowd poured down the can- yon — Holmes, Fetlock, Archy Still- man, everybody. They made the mile in a few minutes. By the light of a lantern they found the smooth ^^b^l 115^^1^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY and solid dirt floor of Flint Buckner's cabin; of the cabin itself not a ves- tige remained, not a rag nor a splinter. Nor any .sign of Flint. Search-par- ties sought here and there and yonder, and presently a cry went up. "Here he is!" Some It was true. Fifty yards down the gulch they had found him — that is, they had found a crushed and lifeless mass which represented him. Fet- lock Jones hurried thither with the others and looked. The inquest was a fifteen-minute affair. Ham Sandwich, foreman of the jury, handed up the verdict, which was phrased with a certain unstudied literary grace, and closed with this finding, to wit: that "deceased came A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY to his death by his own act or some other person or persons unknown to this jury not leaving any family or similar effects behind but his cabin which was blown away and God have mercy on his soul amen." Then the impatient jury rejoined ■^'^^' tient the main crowd, for the storm -cen- fary tre of interest was there — Sherlock Holmes. The miners stood silent and reverent in a half-circle, enclosing a large vacant space which included the front exposure of the site of the late premises. In this considerable space the Extraordinary Man was moving about, attended by his nephew with a leintern. With a tape he took measurements of the cabin site; of the distance from the wall of chapar- A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY ral to the road; of the height of the chaparral bushes; also various other measurements. He gathered a rag here, a splinter there, and a pinch of earth yonder, inspected them pro- ^j^ f oundly, and preserved them. He took real job ^^e "lay" of the place with a pocket- compass, allowing two seconds for magnetic variation. He took the time (Pacific) by his watch, correcting it for local time. He paced off the dis- tance from the cabin site to the corpse, and corrected that for tidal differen- tiation. He took the altitude with a pocket-aneroid, and the temperatiure with a pocket-thermometer. Finally he said, with a stately bow : "It is finished. Shall we return, gentlemen?" 1^^^ ii8 'Ak^sm A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY He took up the line of march for the tavern, and the crowd fell into his wake, earnestly discussing and ad- miring the Extraordinary Man, and interlarding guesses as to the origin of the tragedy and who the author of it might be. "My, but it's grand luck having £„cfe him here— hey, boys?" said Fergu- f"^^ son. "It's the biggest thing of the cen- tury," said Ham Sandwich. "It '11 go all over the world ; you mark my words." "You bet!" said Jake Parker the blacksmith. "It '11 boom this camp. Ain't it so, Wells-Fargo?" "Well, as you want my opinion — if it's any sign of how / think about ^^y! 119 Ba^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Bunches of clefws it, I can tell you this : yesterday I was holding the Straight Flush claim at two dollars a foot; I'd like to see the man that can get it at sixteen to- day." "Right you are, Wells-Fargo! It's the grandest luck a new camp ever struck. Say, did you see him collar them little rags and dirt and things? What an eye ! He just can't over- look a clew — 'tain't in him." "That's so. And they wouldn't mean a thing to anybody else; but to him, why, they're just a book — large print at that." "Sure's you're born! Them odds and ends have got their little old secret, and they think there ain't anybody can pull it; but, land! when he sets 120 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY his grip there they've got to squeal, and don't you forget it." "Boys, I ain't sorry, now, that he wasn't here to roust out the child; -^ % thing this is a bigger thing, by a long sight. Yes, sir, and more tangled up and scientific and intellectual." "I reckon we're all of us glad it's turned out this way. Glad? 'George! it ain't any name for it. Dontchu- know, Archy could 've learnt some- thing if he'd had the nous to stand by and take notice of how that man works the system. But no; he went poking up into the chaparral and just missed the whole thing." "It's true as gospel; I seen it myself. Well, Archy's young. He'll know better one of these day^." A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Who did it? "Say, boys, who do you reckon done it?" That was a difficult question, and brought out a world of unsatisfying conjecture. Various men were men- tioned as possibilities, but one. by one they were discarded as not being eli- gible. No one but young Hillyer had been intimate with Flint Buckner; no one had really had a quarrel with him; he had affronted every man who had tried to make up to him, although not quite offensively enough to require bloodshed. There was one name that was upon every tongue from the start, but it was the last to get utterance — Fetlock Jones's. It was Pat Riley that mentioned it. "Oh, well," the boys said, "of ^^M 12Z !&k^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY course we've all thought of him, be- cause he had a million rights to kill Flint Buckner, and it was just his plain duty to do it. But all the same there's two things we can't get around : for one thing, he hasn't got the sand; and for another, he wasn't anywhere near the place when it happened." "I know it," said Pat. "He was Fetlock's there in the billiard - room with us aff&' when it happened." " Yes, and was there all the time for an hour before it happened." "It's so. And lucky for him, too. He'd have been suspected in a minute if it hadn't been for that." m 123 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Sherlock stately in HE tavern dining-room had been cleared of all its furniture save one six-foot pine table and a chair. This table was against one end of the room; the chair was on it; Sherlock Holmes, stately, imposing, impressive, sat in the chair. The public stood. The room was full. The tobacco smoke was dense, the stillness profound. The Extraordinary Man raised his hand to command additional silence; 124 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY held it in the air a few moments ; then, in brief, crisp terms he put forward question after question, and noted the answers with "Um-ums," nods of the head, and so on. By this process he learned all about Flint Buckner, his character, conduct, and habits, that the people were able to tell him. It thus transpired that the Extraordinary Man's nephew was the only person in the camp who had a killing-grudge against Flint Buckner. Mr. Holmes smiled compassionately upon the wit- ness, and asked, languidly — "Do any of you gentlemen chance to know where the lad Fetlock Jones was at the time of the explosion?" A thunderous response followed — " In the billiard-room of this house!" Thinks ivith his 125 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY " Ah. And had he just come in?" Just "Been there all of an hour!" ques- tions 'Ah. It is about — about — well, about how far might it be to the scene of the explosion?" "All of a mile!" " Ah. It isn't much of an alibi, 'tis true, but — " A storm-burst of laughter, mingled with shouts of, " By jiminy, but he's chain-lightning!" and, "Ain't you sor- ry you spoke, Sandy?" shut off the rest of the sentence, and the crushed witness drooped his blushing face in pathetic shame. The inquisitor re- sumed : " The lad Jones's somewhat distant connection with the case" {laughter) "having been disposed of, let us now A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY call the eye-witnesses of the tragedy, and listen to what they have to say." He got out his fragmentary clews and arranged them on a sheet of card- board on his knee. The house held its breath and watched. "We have the longitude and the latitude, corrected for magnetic vari- Afe^ Huords ation, and this gives us the exact loca- tion of the tragedy. We have the alti- tude, the temperature, and the degree of humidity prevailing — inestimably valuable, since they enable us to esti- mate with precision the degree of in- fluence which they would exercise upon the mood and disposition of the assassin at that time of the night." {Buzz of admiration; muttered remark, "By George, but lie's deep I") He A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY fingered his clews. "And now let us cax^ds ask these mute witnesses to speak to us. " Here we have an empty linen shot- bag. What is its message? This: that robbery was the motive, not re- venge. What is its further message? This : that the assassin was of inferior intelligence — shall we say light-witted, or perhaps approaching that? How do we know this. Because a person of sound intelligence would not have proposed to rob the man Buckner, who never had much money Avith him. But the assassin might have been a stranger? Let the bag speak again. T take from it this article. It is a bit of silver-bearing quartz. It is pecul- iar. Examine it, please — ^you — and A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY yeu — and you. Now pass it back, please. There is but one lode on this coast which produces just that char- acter and color of quartz; and that is a lode which crops out for nearly two miles on a stretch, and in my opinion Like a. clem IS destined, at no distant day, to con- fer upon its locality a globe-girdling celebrity, and upon its two hundred owners riches beyond the dreams of avarice. Name that lode, please." "The Consolidated Christian Sci- ence and Mary Arm!" was the prompt response. A wild crash of hurrahs followed, and every man reached for his neigh- bor's hand and wrung it, with tears in his eyes; and Wells-Fargo Fergu- son shouted, "The Straight Flush is 129 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Convnon- ptuce on the lode, and up she goes to a hun- dred and fifty a foot — ^you hear me !" When quiet fell, Mr. Holmes re- sumed : " We perceive, then, that three facts are established, to wit: the assassin was approximately light - witted ; he was not a stranger; his motive was robbery, not revenge. Let us pro- ceed. I hold in my hand a small frag- ment of fuse, with the recent smell of fire upon it. What is its testimony? Taken with the corroborative evidence of the quartz, it reveals to us that the assassin was a miner. What does it tell us further? This, gentlemen : that the assassination was consummated by means of an explosive. What else does it say? This: that the ex- ^^i^ 130 IS^D A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY plosive was located against the side of the cabin nearest the road — the front side — for within six feet of that spot I fotind it. " I hold in my fingers a burnt Swed- ish match — the kind one rubs on a safety-box. I found it in the road, 622 feet from the aboUshed cabin. What does it say? This: that the train was fired from that point. What further does it tell us? This: that the assassin was left-handed. How do I know this? I should not be able to explain to you, gentlemen, how I know it, the signs being so subtle ^^^ signs that only long experience and deep study can enable one to detect them. But the signs are here, and they are re-enforced by a fact which you must 131 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY have often noticed in the great detec- Aan^erf *^^^ narratives — that'oZZ assassins are '^^"^ left-handed." "By Jackson, that's so!" said Ham Sandwich, bringing his great hand down with a resounding slap upon his thigh; "blamed if I ever thought of it before." "Nor I!" "Nor I!" cried several. " Oh, there can't anything escape him — ^look at his eye!" "Gentlemen, distant as the mur- derer was from his doomed victim, he did not wholly escape injury. This fragment of wood which I now ex- hibit to you struck him. It drew blood. Wherever he is, he bears the telltale mark. I picked it up where he stood when he fired the fatal train." l^^iJJ 132 M A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY He looked out over the house from his high perch, and his countenance began to darken; he slowly raised his hand, and pointed — "There stands the assassinl" For a moment the house was para- lyzed with amazement; then twenty voices burst out with: " Sammy Hillyer? Oh, hell, no ! Him? It's pure foolishnessl" " Take care, gentlemen — be not hasty. Observe — he has the blood- mark on his brow." Hillyer turned white with fright. He was near to crying. He turned this way and that, appealing to every face for help and sympathy ; and held out his supplicating hands toward Holmes and began to plead: Guess at the criminal A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Avhy to the rescue "Don't, oh, don't! I never did it; I give my word I never did it. The way I got this hurt on my forehead was — " "Arrest him, constable I" cried Holmes. "I will swear out the war- rant." The constable moved reluctantly for- ward — hesitated — stopped. Hillyer broke out with another ap- peal. "Oh, Archy, don't let them do it; it would kill mother! You know how I got the hurt. Tell them, and save me, Archy; save me!" Stillman worked his way to the front, and said : "Yes, I'll save you. Don't be afraid." Then he said to the house, "Never mind how he got the hurt; it ^Ssia! 134!^^® "YES, I'll save you A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY hasn't anything to do with this case, and isn't of any consequence." "God bless you, Archy, for a true friend!" "Hurrah for Archy! Go in, boy. Beat and play 'em a knock-down, flush to detedive •work their two pair 'n' a jack!" shouted the house, pride in their home talent and a patriotic sentiment of loyalty to it rising suddenly in the public heart and changing the whole atti- tude of the situation. Young Stillman waited for the noise to cease; then he said, "I will ask Tom Jeffries to stand by that door yonder, and Constable Harris to stand by the other one here, and not let anybody leave the room." • " Said and done. Go on, old man!" A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The criminal present "The criminal is present, I believe. I will show him to you before long, in case I am right in my guess. Now I will tell you all about the tragedy, from start to finish. The motive wasn't robbery ; it was revenge. The murderer wasn't light - witted. He didn't stand 622 feet away. He didn't get hit with a piece of wood. He didn't place the explosive against the cabin. He didn't bring a shot-bag with him, and he wasn't left-handed. With the exception of these errors, the distin- guished guest's statement of the case is substantially correct." A comfortable laugh rippled over the house; friend nodded to friend, as much as to say, "That's the word, with the bark on it. Good lad, good A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY boy. He ain't lowering his flag any!" The guest's serenity was not dis- turbed. Stillman resumed: "I also have some witnesses; and I will presently tell you where you can find some more." He held up a piece of coarse wire; the crowd craned their necks to see. " It has a smooth coat- ing of melted tallow on it. And here Telltale evidence IS a candle which is burned half-way down. The remaining half of it has marks cut upon it an inch apart. Soon I will tell you where I found these things. I will now put aside reasonings, guesses, the impressive hitching of odds and ends of clews together, and the other showy theatri- cals of the detective trade, and tell you A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY in a plain, straightforward way just j^^ how this dismal thing happened." horn it He paused a moment, for effect — to pened allow silence and suspense to intensify and concentrate the house's interest; then he went on : " The assassin studied out his plan with a good deal of pains. It was a good plan, very ingenious, and showed an intelligent mind, not a feeble one. It was a plan which was well calcu- lated to ward off all suspicion from its inventor. In the first place, he marked a candle into spaces an inch apart, and lit it and timed it. He found it took three hours to burn foiir inches of it. I tried it myself for half an hour, awhile ago, upstairs here, while the inquiry into Flint Buckner's character A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY and ways was being conducted in this room, and I arrived in that way j^ at the rate of a candle's consumption "^^"5* when shehered from the wind. Hav- ing proved his trial-candle's rate, he blew it out — I have already shown it to you — and put his inch-marks on a fresh one. "He put the fresh one into a tin candlestick. Then at the five-hour mark he bored a hole through the candle with a red-hot wire. I have already shown you the wire, with a smooth coat of tallow on it — tal- low that had been melted and had cooled. "With labor — very hard labor, I should say — he struggled up through the stiff chaparral that clothes the Laying the mine A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY steep hill-side back of Flint Buckner's place, tugging an empty flour-barrel with him. He placed it in that ab- solutely secure hiding-place, and in the bottom of it he set the candlestick. Then he measured off about thirty- five feet of fuse — the barrel's distance from the back of the cabin. He bored a hole in the side of the barrel — here is the large gimlet he did it with. He went on and finished his work; and when it was done, one end of the fuse was in Buckner's cabin, and the other end, with a notch chipped in it to ex- pose the powder, was in the hole in the candle — timed to blow the place up at one o'clock this morning, pro- vided the candle was lit about eight o'clock yesterday evening — which I ^!^ji4g hi^g® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY am betting it was — and provided there was an explosive in the cabin and Fua connected with that end of the fuse — details which I am also betting there was, though I can't prove it. Boys, the barrel is there in the chaparral, the candle's remains are in it in the tin stick; the burnt-out fuse is in the gim- let-hole, the other end is down the hill where the late cabin stood. I saw them all an hour or two ago, when the Professor here was measuring off unimplicated vacancies and collecting relics that hadn't anything to do with the case." He paused. The house drew a long, deep breath, shook its strained cords and muscles free and burst into cheers. €^^ 141 M^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "Dang him!" said Ham Sandwich, "that's why he was snooping around in the chaparral, instead of picking up points out of the P'fessor's game. Looky here — he ain't no fool, boys." "No, sir! Why, great Scott—" But Stillman was resuming: " While we were out yonder an hour or two ago, the owner of the gimlet and the trial-candle took them from a A place where he had concealed them — hiding- ^^ ^^^ ^^^ a good place — ^and carried pUce them to what he probably thought was a better one, two hundred yards up in the pine woods, and hid them there, covering them over with pine needles. It was there that I found them. The gimlet exactly fits the hole in the barrel. And now — " 142 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The Extraordinary Man interrupted him. He said, sarcasticallj'^ : "We have had a very pretty fairy- ^f^ tale, gentlemen — very pretty indeed. *^ Now I would like to ask this young man a question or two." Some of the boys winced, and Fer- guson said, "I'm afraid Archy's going to catch it now." The others lost their smiles and sobered down. Mr. Holmes said: "Let us proceed to examine into this fairy-tale in a consecutive and orderly way — by geometrical pro- gression, so to speak — linking detail to detail in a steadily advancing and remorselessly consistent and unassail- able march upon this tinsel toy-fortress «8S:iJ 143 fei^© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY The time test of error, the dream-fabric of a callow imagination. To begin with, young sir, I desire to ask you but three ques- tions at present — at present. Did I understand you to say it was your opinion that the supposititious candle was lighted at about eight o'clock yesterdaj'^ evening?" "Yes, sir — about eight." " Could you say exactly eight?" "Well, no, I couldn't be that ex- act." " Um. If a person had been passing along there just about that time, he would have been almost sure to en- counter that assassin, do you think?" "Yes, I should think so." "Thank you, that is all. For the present. I say, all jor the present." 144 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "Dern him! he's laying for Archy/' said Ferguson. "It's so," said Ham Sandwich. "I don't like the look of it." Stillman said, glancing at the guest, "I was along there myself at half past eight — no, about nine." " In-deed? This is interesting — this is very interesting. Perhaps you en- countered the assassin yourself?" "No, I encountered no one." "Ah. Then — if you will excuse the remark — I do not quite see the relevancy of the information." "It has none. At present. I say it has none — at present." He paused. Presently he resumed: "I did not en- counter the assassin, but I am on his track, I am sure, for I believe he is in On the spot Watch- ing iheii' feet A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY this room. I will ask you all to pass one by one in front of me — here, where there is a good light — so that I can see your feet." A buzz of excitement swept the place, and the march began, the guest looking on with an iron attempt at gravity which was not an unqualified success. Stillman stooped, shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed down intently at each pair of feet as it passed. Fifty men tramped monot- onously by — with no result. Sixty. Seventy. The thing was beginning to look absurd. The guest remarked, with suave irony, "Assassins appear to be scarce this evening." The house saw the humor of it, and A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY refreshed itself with a cordial laugh. Ten or twelve more candidates tramped by — no, danced by, with airy and ridiculous capers which convulsed the spectators — then suddenly Stillman put out his hand and said, " This is the assassin !" ^^"^ ''^^ " Fetlock Jones, by the great Sanhe- drim!" roared the crowd; and at once let fly a pyrotechnic explosion and dazzle and confusion of stirring re- marks inspired by the situation. At the height of the turmoil the guest stretched out his hand, com- manding peace. The authority of a great name and a great personality laid its mysterious compulsion upon the house, and it obeyed. Out of the panting calm which succeeded, the A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY With the detecthie guest spoke, saying, with dignity and feeling: "This is serious. It strikes at an innocent life. Innocent beyond sus- picion! Innocent beyond peradvent- ure! Hear me prove it; observe how simple a fact can brush out of existence this witless lie. Listen. My friends, that lad was never out of my sight yesterday evening at any time!" It made a deep impression. Men turned their eyes upon Stillman with grave inquiry in them. His face brightened, and he said, "I knew there was another one!" He stepped briskly to the table and glanced at the guest's feet, then up at his face, and said: "You were mth him! You were not fifty steps from 148 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Refur- nished matches him when he lit the candle that by- and-by fired the powder!" (Sensa- tion.) "And what is more, you fur- nished the matches yourself!" Plainly the guest seemed hit; it looked so to the public. He opened his mouth to speak; the words did not come freely. " This — er — this is insanity — this—" Stillman pressed his evident ad- vantage home. He held up a charred match. "Here is one of them. I found it in the barrel — and there's another one there." The guest found his voice at once. "Yes — and put them there your- self!" (^^i 149 fe^© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY matches It was recognized as a good shot. Stillman retorted: Wgj. "It is wax — a breed unknown to this camp. I am ready to be searched for the box. Are you?" The guest was staggered this time — the dullest eye could see it. He fumbled with his hands; once or twice his lips moved, but the words did not come. The house waited and watched, in tense suspense, the stillness adding effect to the situation. Presently Still- man said, gently, " We are waiting for your decision." There was silence again during several moments; then the guest an- swered, in a low voice, " I refuse to be searched." There was no noisy demonstration. ^%>^ 150 !&i^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY but all about the house one voice after another muttered: "That settles it! He's Archy's Archy's meat." ""^^ What to do now? Nobody seemed to know. It was an embarrassing situation for the moment — merely, of course, because matters had taken such a sudden and unexpected turn that these unpractised minds were not prepared for it, and had come to a standstill, like a stopped clock, under the shock. But after a little the ma- chinery began to work again, tenta- tively, and by twos and threes the men put their heads together and privately buzzed over this and that and the other proposition. One of 151 Thank- ing the assassin A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY these propositions met with much fa- vor; it was, to confer upon the assassin a vote of thanks for removing Flint Buckner, and let him go. But the cooler heads opposed it, pointing out that addled brains in the Eastern States would pronounce it a scandal, and make no end of foolish noise about it. In the end the cool heads got the upper hand, and obtained general consent to a proposition of their own, and their leader then called the house to order and stated it — to this effect: that Fetlock Jones be jailed and put upon his trial. The motion was carried. Appar- ently there was nothing further to do now, and the people were glad, for, privately, they were impatient to get A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY out and rush to the scene of the trag- edy, and see whether that barrel and the other things were really there or not. But no — the break-up got a check. The surprises were not over yet. For a while Fetlock Jones had been silent- ly sobbing, unnoticed in the absorb- ing excitements which had been fol- lowing one another so persistently for some time; but when his arrest and trial were decreed, he broke out despairingly, and said : "No! it's no use. I don't want any jail, I don't want any trial; I've had all the hard luck I want, and all the miseries. Hang me now, and let me out! It would all come out, any- way — there couldn't anything save Wanted no trial ^^m ^53 tei:g© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED D E T ECTIVE STORY me. He has told it all, just as if he'd been with me and seen it — / don't know how he foimd out; and you'll find the barrel and things, and then I The wouldn't have any chance any more. ston I killed him; and you'd have done it too, if he'd treated you like a dog, and you only a boy, and weak and poor, and not a friend to help you." "And served him damned well right!" broke in Ham Sandwich. " Looky here, boys — " From the constable: "Order! Or- der, gentlemen!" A voice: "Did your uncle know what you was up to?" "No, he didn't." "Did he give you the matches, sure enough?" i^^i 154 !6^^ A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY "Yes, he did; but he didn't know what I wanted them for." " When you was out on such a busi- ness as that, how did you venture to risk having him along — and him a detective? How's that?" The boy hesitated, fumbled with his buttons in an embarrassed way, then said, shyly, "I know about detectives, on ac- count of having them in the family; and if you don't want them to find out about a thing, it's best to have them around when you do it." The cyclone of laughter which greeted this naive discharge of wis- dom did not modify the poor little waif's embarrassment in any large degree. Uses for A detec- tive isg&ii 155 fei^© A D OU BLE-B ARR EI.LED DETECTIVE STORY Fetlock in jait IV From a Letter to Mrs. Stillman. Dated merely "Tuesday." ETLOCK JONES was put under lock and key in an unoccupied log cabin, and left there to await his trial. Constable Harris provided him with a couple of days' rations, instructed him to keep a good guard over himself, and prom- ised to look in on him as soon as further supplies should be due. Next morning a score of us went iife44i 156 fei^® A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY with Hillyer, out of friendship, and helped him bury his late relative, the unlaniented Buckner, and I acted as first assistant pall-bearer, Hillyer act- ing as chief. Just as we had finished our labors a ragged and melancholy stranger, carrying an old hand-bag, limped by with his head down, and I caught the scent I had chased around the globe! It was the odor of Para- dise to my perishing hope! In a moment I was at his side and had laid a gentle hand upon his shoul- der. He slumped to the ground as if a stroke of lightning had withered him in his tracks; and as the boys came running he struggled to his knees and put up his pleading hands to me, and out of his chattering jaws ne missing one found 157 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY insane he begged me to persecute him no more, and .said, "You have hunted me around the world, Sherlock Holmes, yet God is mj' witness I have never done any man harm!" A glance at his wild eyes showed /«MM "s that he was insane. That was my work, mother! The tidings of your death can some day repeat the misery I felt in that moment, but noth- ing else can ever do it. The boys lifted him up, and gathered about him, and were full of pity of him, and said the gentlest and touchingest things to him, and said cheer up and don't be troubled, he was among friends now, and they would take care of him, and protect him, and hang IN A MOMENT I WAS AT HIS SIDE A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY any man that laid a hand on him. They are just like so many mothers, the rough mining -camp boys are, when you wake up the south side of their hearts; yes, and just like so many reckless and unreasoning chil- dren when you wake up the opposite side of that muscle. They did every- thing they could think of to comfort him, but nothing succeeded until Wells- Fargo Ferguson, who is a clever strat- egist, said, "If it's only Sherlock Holmes that's troubling you, you needn't worry any more." "Why?" asked the forlorn lunatic, ^^S^'^y- Sherlock "Because he's dead again." '^^^ dgaxn "Dead! Dead! Oh, don't trifle A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Hanged by mis- take with a poor wreck like me. Is he dead? On honor, now — is he telhng me true, boys?" "True as you're a-standing there!" said Ham Sandwich, and they all backed up the statement in a body. "They hung him in San Bernar- dino last week," added Ferguson, clinching the matter, "whilst he was searching around after you. Mis- took him for another man. They're sorry, but they can't help it now." "They're a-btiilding him a monu- ment," said Ham Sandwich, with the air of a person who had contributed to it, and knew. "James Walker" drew a deep sigh — evidently a sigh of relief — and said nothing; but his eyes lost something A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY of their wildness, his countenance cleared visibly, and its drawn look relaxed a little. We all went to our cabin, and the boys cooked him the best dinner the camp could furnish the materials for, and while they were about it Hillyer and I outfitted him from hat to shoe-leather with new clothes of ours, and made a come- ly and presentable old gentleman of him. "Old" is the right word, and a pity, too; old by the droop of him, and the frost upon his hair, and the marks which sorrow and distress have left upon his face; though he is only in his prime in the matter of years. While he ate, we smoked and chatted ; and when he was finishing he found his voice at last, and of his own i6i Soothing the old A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY accord broke out with his personal history. I cannot furnish his exact words, but I will come as near it as I can. The "Wrong Man's" Story. "^^ It happened like this : I was in Den- 'corong m^n's ver. I had been there many years; stoty sometimes I remember how many, sometimes I don't — but it isn't any matter. All of a sudden I got a notice to leave, or I would be exposed for a horrible crime committed long before — ^years and years before — in the East. I knew about that crime, but I was not the criminal; it was a cousin of mine of the same name. What should I better do? My head was all dis- ordered by fear, and I didn't know. A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY I was allowed very little time — only one day, I think it was. I would be ruined if I was published, and the a.'fJse people would lynch me, and not be- lieve what I said. It is always the way with lynchings; when they find out it is a mistake they are sorry, but it is too late, — the same as it was with Mr. Holmes, you see. So I said I would sell out Euid get money to live on, and run away until it blew over and I could come back with my proofs. Then I escaped in the night and went a long way off in the mountains some- where, and lived disguised and had a false name. I got more and more troubled and worried, and my troubles made me see spirits and hear voices, and I could ^^j 163 E^© name A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY not think straight and clear on any subject, but got confused and involved and had to give it up, because my head hurt so. It got to be worse and worse; more spirits and more voices. They were about me all the time; at first only in the night, then in the Restless ^^'^ ^°^- '^^^^ ^^^^ always whis- pering around my bed and plotting against me, and it broke my sleep and kept me fagged out, because I got no good rest. And then came the worst. One night the whispers said, "We'U never manage, because we can't see him, and so can't point him out to the people." They sighed; then one said: "We must bring Sherlock Holmes. He can be here in twelve days." ^^ii 164 6&S© A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY They all agreed, and whispered and jibbered with joy. But my heart broke; for I had read about that man, Fkeing from and knew what it woidd be to have Shertock him upon my track, with his super- hximan penetration and tireless ener- gies. The spirits went away to fetch him, and I got up at once in the middle of the night and fled away, carrying nothing but the hand-bag that had my money in it — thirty thousand dol- lars; two-thirds of it are in the bag there yet. It was forty days before that man caught up on my track. I just escaped. From habit he had written his real name on a tavern register, but had scratched it out and written "Dagget Barclay" in the A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY place of it. But fear gives you a watchful eye and keen, Euid I read the true name through the scratches, and fled like a deer. He has hunted me all over this Hanted world for three years and a half — for . . years the Pacific States, Australasia, India — everywhere you can think of; then back to Mexico and up to California again, giving me hardly any rest; but that name on the registers always saved me, and what is left of me is alive yet. And I am so tired! A cruel time he has given me, yet I give you my honor I have never harmed him nor any man. That was the end of the story, and it stirred those boys to blood-heat, A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY be sure of it. As for me— each word bixrnt a hole in me where it struck. We voted that the old man should bimk with us, and be my guest and Hillyer's. I shall keep my own coun- sel, naturally; but as soon as he is well rested and nourished, I shall take him to Denver and rehabilitate his fortunes. The boys gave the old fellow the bone-mashing good-fellowship hand- shake of the mines, and then scattered away to spread the news. At dawn next morning Wells-Fargo Ferguson and Ham Sandwich called us softly out, and said, privately: "That news about the way that old stranger has been treated has spread all around, and the camps 167 Self- reproach A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY are up. They are piling in from everywhere, and are going to lynch the P'fessor. Constable Harris is in a dead funk, and ha;s telephoned the sheriff. Come along 1" We started on a run. The others were privileged to feel as they chose, ^f^f, but in my heart's privacy I hoped Sherlock again the sheriff would arrive in time, for I had small desire that Sherlock Holmes should hang for my deeds, as you can easily believe. I had heard a good deal about the sheriff, but for reas- surance' sake I asked, " Can he stop a mob?" "Can he stop a mob I Can Jack Fairfax stop a mob! Well, I should smile! Ex-desperado — ^nineteen scalps on his string. Can he ! Oh, I say !" A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY As we tore up the gulch, distant cries and shouts and yells rose faintly on the still air, and grew steadily in strength as we raced along. Roar after roar burst out, stronger and stronger, nearer and nearer; and at last, when we closed up upon the mul- titude massed in the open area in front of the tavern, the crash of sound was deafening. Some brutal roughs from Daly's Gorge had Holmes in their grip, and he was the calmest man there; a contemptuous snule played about his lips, and if any fear of death was in his British heart, his iron personality was master of it, and no sign of it was allowed to appear. " Come to a vote, men!" This from one of the Daly gang, Shadbelly A mob A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Higgins. " Quick 1 is it hang, or shoot?" "Neither!" shouted one of his com- rades. "He'd be alive again in a hSm week; burning's the only permanency for him." The gangs from all the outlying camps burst out in a thunder-crash of approval, and went struggling and surging toward the prisoner, and closed around him, shouting, "Fire! fire's the ticket!" They dragged him to the horse-post, backed him against it, chained him to it, and piled wood and pine cones around him waist-deep. Still the strong face did not blench, and still the scornful smile played about the thin lips. "A match! fetch a match!" 170 A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY Shadbelly struck it, shaded it with his hand, stooped, and held it under a pine cone. A deep silence fell upon Funeral the mob. The cone caught, a tiny ''^''^ flame flickered about it a moment or two. I seemed to catch the sound of distant hoofs — it grew more dis- tinct — still more and more distinct, more and more definite, but the ab- sorbed crowd did not appear to no- tice it. The match went out. The man struck another, stooped, and again the flame rose; this time it took hold and began to spread— here and there men turned away their faces. The executioner stood with the charred match in his fingers, watching his work. The hoof-beats turned a projecting crag, and now A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY they came thundering down upon us. Almost the next moment there was a shout — .liff "The sheriff!" And straightway he came tearing into the midst, stood his horse almost on his hind feet, and said, "Fall back, you gutter-snipes!" He was obeyed. By all but their leader. He stood his ground, and his hand went to his revolver. The sher- iff covered him promptly, and said : "Drop your hand, you parlor-des- perado. Kick the fire away. Now unchain the stranger." The parlor-desperado obeyed. Then the sheriff made a speech; sitting his horse at martial ease, and not warming his words with any touch 172 'THE sheriff!" A DOUBLE-BARRELLED DETECTIVE STORY of fire, but delivering them in a meas- ured and deliberate way, and in a tone which harmonized with their character and made them impressive- ly disrespectful. "You're a nice lot — now ain't you? Just about eligible to travel with this bilk here — Shadbelly Higgins — this loud-mouthed sneak that shoots peo- ple in the back and calls himself a des- perado. If there's anything I do par- ticularly despise, it's a Ijniching mob; ^hem^ I've never seen one that had a man in it. It has to tally up a hundred against one before it can pump up pluck enough to tackle a sick tailor. It's made up of cowards, and so is the community that breeds it; and ninety-nine times out of a himdred 173 A D O U B L E-B A R R E I. L E D DETECTIVE STORY the sherifif 's another one. " He paused — apparently to turn that last idea N^es oygj. ijj jj£s mind and taste the juice sheriff of it— then he went on: "The sheriff that lets a mob take a prisoner away from him is the lowest-down coward there is. By the statistics there was a hundred and eighty-two of them drawing sneak pay in America last year. By the way it's going, pret- ty soon there'll be a new disease in the doctor books — sheriff complaint." That idea pleased him — ^any one could see it. "People will say, 'Sheriff sick again?' ' Yes ; got the same old thing.' And next there'll be a new title. People won't say, 'He's run- ning for sheriff of Rapaho County,' for instance; they'll say, 'He's run-