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Updated: June 22, 2025
That man, Moriarity, is a noted liar." "Ah!" said Mr. Pinkerton, quickly, "you know Moriarity?" "That is I mean yes, I sort of know him," stammered Wittrock, in confusion; "I have heard of him." "You are in desperate straits, Mr. Wittrock," said the detective. "In such desperate straits that you are doing the worst possible thing denying all that is proved true.
Dan continued: "Jim Cummings isn't his right name any more'n it's mine. His name is Fred Wittrock, and he lives in Chicago." "Where?" "At West Lake street." "Will you swear to that?" "Yes, I will; he runs a coalyard there. He ana a man named Weaver. I had nothing to do with robbing the car.
Pinkerton had been relating were set forth, Wittrock did not show a trace of feeling other than amusement, as he read the long and legally worded document, and passing it back to Mr. Pinkerton with a gesture of disdain, he said: "So on the strength of that cock-and-bull story you mean to hold me for that robbery?" "Partly so." "There isn't a word of truth in it.
As if in answer to his call the door opened, and Sam, with Chip following, entered. Wittrock recognized them, and with a hearty "Good-morning, gentlemen," motioned them to a seat, with as little ceremony as if the room was in his own house. "Good-morning, Jim," said Chip, "I'm sorry we had to pull you in last night." "It was a ground-hog case, eh?" "You don't seem to recognize us," said Sam.
They have been brought into cultivation by Jordan, Wittrock and others, but throughout Europe each of them constitutes a single type. These types must be very old and constant, fluctuating always within the same distinct and narrow limits. No slow, gradual changes can have taken place.
"It's plain sailing now, boys," said Mr. Pinkerton; "this end has been worked dry, and you must return to Chicago with me. Cummings, or rather Wittrock, if Moriarity has spoken the truth, will certainly make for Chicago, and you must be ready for him."
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