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The detective looked round at his assistant, and the expression of his face was set in its hardest mask. "Whiteside," he said quietly, "swear out a warrant for the arrest of Odette Rider on a charge of wilful murder. Telegraph all stations to detain this girl, and let me know the result." Without another word he turned from the room and walked back to his lodgings.
"We were sent here to look through the mine, with the understanding that you were to come on from Chicago in a few days. Mr. Horton recommended you to Mr. Burlingame and so you were employed." "Then this detective has no right here at all?" "None whatever, so far as I can make out." "Then why not fire him?" "Because he may accidentally run across the money some day."
He's giving a small dinner to-morrow night at his rooms and has asked me." "You go," said the detective, emphatically; "and don't let on you have anything to do with me." "See here, Hurd, I won't play the spy, if you mean that." "I don't mean anything of the sort," replied Hurd, earnestly, "but if you do chance to meet Mrs.
When the doorkeeper comes back send him over to the hotel. I'll be there." "Right," nodded the old man. Then the detective said to Pougeot: "I must talk to Gritz. You know him, don't you?" The commissary glanced at his watch. "Yes, but do you realize it's after three o'clock?" "Never mind, I must see him. A lot depends on it. Get him out of bed for me, Lucien, and then you can go home."
"But whom shall I send? In a matter of this delicacy I don't want to employ a professional detective. Those men sometimes betray secrets committed to their keeping, and work up a false clue rather than have it supposed they are not earning their money. If, now, some gentleman in whom I had confidence someone like yourself would undertake the commission, I should esteem myself fortunate."
"I didn't think you had it in you, Al, to be that big a fool. But since you've said it, here's the dope. Take it, dad. I said I'd turn it in, but I didn't say who'd receive it. The stock detective that's been camping on your trail for the last few weeks was killed on the Lava Beds to-day. I found him. He's at Conley's, now, waiting for the coroner. You might ride over, Al, and see for yourself.
Not your knife, when your name is scratched on the handle? And don't you know that two officers stood right over behind the stone wall and saw you do it? Because you wasn't caught in your cat-yowlin' round and your ox-chain foolishness and your other didoes, do you think you can fool a detective like me? You come along to State Prison!
The fact that Bob Hardy was a witness to what she had supposed was a mere accidental meeting gave her an instinctive clue to the identity of the man, and her cheeks flushed with shame as she connected him in her thoughts with that insulting proposition of the detective.
But who it was, or when, or how, neither of us knows. We shall have to make inquiry, and see if any of the servants know anything of it." We all stood silent for several seconds. It seemed a long time. The first to speak was the Detective, who said in an unconscious way: "Well, I'm damned! I beg your pardon, miss!" Then his mouth shut like a steel trap.
Thereafter they went into details so highly nautical that we shrink from recording them. An amateur detective, in the form of a shipmate, having captured Jim Sloper, the Sunshine finally cleared out of the port of Batavia that evening, shortly before its namesake took his departure from that part of the southern hemisphere.
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