The Dock Rats of New York
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Old Sleuth >> The Dock Rats of New York
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12 Transcriber's Note:
This book is an example of early pulp fiction. It was
published in 1908 by The Arthur Westbrook Co. as Adventure
Series No. 76. "Old Sleuth" is the pseudonym of Harlan Page
Halsey (1837-1898).
THE "DOCK RATS" OF NEW YORK
OR
THE SMUGGLER BAND'S LAST STAND
BY "OLD SLEUTH"
CHAPTER I.
"Hold, Stranger!"
The words fell from beautiful lips under the most exciting
circumstances.
A boat rocked upon the calm water that murmured along the
shore, when a young man came down from the upper bank of white
drift sand, and seized the tiller rope. He had the rope in
his hand, his arm was upraised to draw the boat to his feet,
when he was startled by hearing the words with which we open
our narrative.
The young man turned toward the speaker, and encountered a
sight that caused his handsome eyes to bulge with amazement.
It was a clear, cloudless night, and a half moon shed its
diminished radiance on surrounding objects, and revealed to
the astonished gaze of the young man the weird-appearing
figure of a young girl.
One glance was sufficient to announce the fact that the girl
was beautiful, but alas! in what questionable shape did she
appear? She was attired in a loose gown tightened about the
waist with a leathern belt, her feet were bare, and her long
hair hung unkempt upon her shoulders.
As our old-time readers know, we are not heavy on the
beauty-describing business, and we will merely declare that
the girl was indeed a lovely creature, clad in rags; but she
was beautiful, and Spencer Vance, the young man, discerned
the fact at a glance, and his amazement was the greater
because of the thrilling conditions under which re beheld
so great loveliness.
The young man made no immediate answer to the girl's abrupt
salutation, but merely stood and gazed at her without any
attempt to conceal his utter astonishment.
"You must not go off in the yacht to-night!" said the girl.
"Why must I stay ashore to-night?"
"Danger is ahead of you!"
"But I am an old sailor, miss; I can take care of myself, I
reckon."
The girl drew close to the young man, laid her hand upon his
arm, and in a husky voice, whispered:
"The danger comes not from the sea! You will be a victim!"
The young man let the boat line fall from his grasp, a fierce
light shone in his eyes, and there was a tremulousness, but
not of fear, in his voice as he demanded:
"Who sent you to tell me this?"
"It matters not, you are doomed if you go on the yacht
to-night! never again will your feet press the hard shore,
but the waves will cast you up!"
"Who are you, miss, and why have you come to warn me?"
A moment the girl was silent. She hung her head and appeared
lost in thought, but at length, looking up and fixing her
magnificent blue eyes upon the young man, she said:
"I do not know who I am, but I do know that if you go out on
the yacht to-night, you will never return till the waves wash
your dead form to the beach!"
"You must have some reason for coming to warn me?"
"Yes; I would save your life!"
"Why are you so deeply interested in saving my life?"
"I would warn anyone whom I knew was in peril! and you must
heed my words!"
"I cannot!"
"Are you seeking death?"
"No."
"I do not understand."
"And I cannot explain, but I must go out though death meet
me upon the crest of every wave."
The girl again remained silent for a moment, but, at length in
a still lower whisper, she said:
"You have been betrayed!"
The young man started, and a slight pallor overspread his
handsome face as he caught the girl's delicate arm in his firm
grasp, and demanded:
"Who am I?"
"You are Spencer Vance."
The young man could not conceal an expression of extreme
astonishment.
"Who told you my name was Spencer Vance?"
"It matters not, but take heed; do not go out on the sea
to-night."
"I tell you I must! I will go, but you must tell me what you
know of Spencer Vance."
"You are a revenue detective; you are in the employ of the
Government; you have been betrayed, and to-night you are to be
silenced if you go out on the yacht!"
"Do the men on the yacht know who I am?"
"They do not know your name, but they suspect you are a
Government detective, and they have determined to put you out
of the way; to-night they will do the deed if you go."
"Someone must have told them I was a Government officer."
"Yes; someone told them."
"Do you know who gave the information?"
"I do."
"Will you tell me?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I have warned you, now go your way, and save your life! they
are desperate men, the waves have already received three of
their victims within a year go, and your doom is sealed!
Nothing can save you!"
"I shall go!"
"You do not believe my words?"
"I will believe you if you will tell me who betrayed me to the
smugglers."
"I did!" came the starring response.
The detective stood the girl off from him at arm's length, and
studied her from feet to head.
The girl stood and calmly submitted to the inspection.
"So you are the traitor?"
"No."
"You admit you betrayed me?"
"I am no traitor! I owe nothing to you! I had a right to
inform the boys if I saw fit, and I did so."
"And now you come and warn me?"
"Yes."
"Why do you warn me, if you are the one who set them on to
murder me?"
"I did not think they would murder you, and now I have come to
warn you."
"Are you engaged in the business?"
"NO."
The girl spoke in a scornful tone, and her eyes dashed with
indignation.
"Who are you?"
"I do not know who I am."
A strange look came into the detective's eyes as an idea
dashed through his mind.
"Are you the child of a wreck?"
"I do not know. I know nothing about myself."
"Whom do you live with?"
"The man who calls himself my father."
"Is he not your father?"
"No."
"Has he confessed to you that he is not your father?"
"No."
"Then how do you know he is not your father?"
"I know he is not."
"Why do you live with him?"
"Where should I go? I have no other home, and he is kind to
me."
"Is he a smuggler?"
"It is not fair to ask me that question."
"Why not?"
"I have told you all that was needful to warn you of your own
peril; you should not take advantage of my frankness."
The detective looked upon the lovely girl with a deep sense of
pity in his heart. Her appearance seemed to tell her tale,
and it was sad to think that such wondrous beauty was but the
plaything of a gang of rough sailors.
"Are you married?" asked the detective, abruptly:
"No," came the answer, in a quick, decisive tone.
"Will you tell me your name?"
"They call me Renie."
"And your father's name?"
"Tom Pearce."
"The boat-keeper?"
"Yes."
"And you informed the men who I was?" repeated the detective.
"Yes."
"How did you find out that I was a Government officer?"
"I will not tell you."
"How did you find out that the men intended to go for me
to-night?"
"I overheard them arranging their plans."
"Do they know that you overheard them?"
"No."
"Then when they discover that I am up to their plans, will
they not accuse you of having betrayed them?"
"That is a question I cannot answer."
"I am astonished that you should put me in this peril, and
then come and warn me!"
"I tell you I did not think my information would be followed
by anything serious."
"But you tell me that three other officers have suffered by
them."
"I did not know that until after I had told them who you
were."
"Did you tell them directly?"
"No."
"Well, Renie, I am much obliged to you."
"And you will not go off in the yacht to-night?"
"I will think the matter over."
"Promise me that you will not go!" pleaded the girl, in an
earnest tone.
"I will not promise; but if I do go, you need have no fear. I
can take care of myself, forewarned, you know, is forearmed.
Goodnight, Renie."
"I shall never forgive myself if you are injured!"
"Thank you for your interest; but you need have no fear. I
can take care of myself; the crew of the yacht 'Nancy' will
not toss me to the fishes to-night."
The girl turned and walked away under the moonlight, and a
strange impulse caused the detective to follow her.
The girl moved along like an uncouth apparition over the
yielding sand, and had traversed fully a quarter of a mile
along the shore, when suddenly a man leaped down from the bank
and confronted her.
The detective, in shadowing the strange girl, had kept well in
under the shadow of the bluff, and could not have been seen;
and when he saw the man confront the girl, he moved rapidly
forward, and gained a point near enough to overhear the talk
that passed between them.
The man was a rough, villainous-looking fellow, and his voice
was coarse and his manners vulgar. It was evident that the
girl was annoyed at meeting him, as was immediately betrayed
by her manner.
"Hello, Renie, I've been waiting a long time for a chance to
have a talk with you."
"I do not wish to have a talk with you, though, Sol Burton; so
good-night!"
"Not so fast, my pretty bird; I've something to tell you."
"And I don't wish to stop and listen to you."
"You would if you knew all I had to tell."
"Well, as I don't know all you've got to tell, and as I don't
desire to listen to you, I'll bid you goodnight."
"You always were down on me, Renie, but I'm a friend of your'n
arter all, and I've collared the secret of your life, and I'd
tell it to you, only you're so darn uppish when I go to speak
to you."
The detective saw the girl advance toward the rough-looking
man, and overheard her say:
"You know the secret of my life?"
"Yes."
"What secret is there of my life?"
"Tom Pearce is not your daddy, but I know how you came to be
his adopted child."
The girl trembled from head to foot.
"Sol Burton, tell me all you know."
"Ah! you will listen to me, my pretty bird?"
"Yes, I will."
CHAPTER II.
The man chuckled as he said:
"I thought you would listen to me when I let on what I
know'd."
"Tell me the secret!" commanded the girl.
"Oh, yes, Renie! but I've a condition."
"A condition? What condition would you exact?"
"You must become my wife. There, the thing's out; so now,
what have you got to say?"
"I say, no!"
"That's your decision?"
"That's my decision."
"Be careful, gal. I only asked you to marry a me to give you
a chance; remember you're nobody's child, and I've hooked on
to the secret."
"You're a mean man, Sol Burton, to threaten me!"
"Well, the fact is, Renie, I like you! I'm dead in love with
you, and I'm willing to marry yer, and that's more than most
of the fellows round here would do, knowing all I know."
"Good-night, Sol Burton, I'll not stop to talk with you, nor
will I tell my father that you said insulting words to me."
"What do you suppose I care about Tom Pearce? I can whisper a
few words in his ear that will take some of the starch out of
him! He's been mighty uppish about you, although he's let you
run round the beach barefoot these sixteen years."
"Go talk to Tom Pearce, and do not be the coward to repeat
your threats to me!"
The girl started to move away, when the man suddenly leaped
forward and grasped her in his arms, but the same instant he
received a blow which sent him reeling, as the girl was
snatched from his rude grasp.
A curse fell from the man's lips, and he arose to his feet and
advanced toward the man who had struck him.
"Run home, little girl!" whispered the detective; "I will take
care of this brute!"
"Thank you!" said the girl, and she glided away along the
beach.
"See here, you're the man who struck me?"
"Yes; I'm the man."
"I think I've seen you before."
"I think we've met before."
"What did you hit me for?"
"I struck you because you put your hands rudely upon the
girl."
"Yer did, eh?"
"Yes."
The man leaned toward the detective with the remark:
"Well, it's my turn now!"
And his turn it proved to be, as he received a rap, which
caused him to turn clean over.
Sol Burton was raving mad when he once more regained his feet;
the fellow was an ugly chap, a great bully ashore, and a cruel
heartless man afloat. As he arose he exclaimed:
"All right, you're fixed for me to-night; but my time will
come! I'll get square with you before you're much older!"
Sol Burton turned and walked away a baffled man.
Spencer Vance walked to the point on the beach where he had
stood when the girl had come to him with the strange warning.
The young man was a Government officer, a special detective,
and had been assigned to the collector at the port of New
York to run down an organized gang of smugglers who were known
to be doing a large business off the Long Island coast.
Several detectives had been detailed to work up the matter,
and one after another they had mysteriously disappeared, and
the Government had never succeeded in solving the mystery of
their taking off; and further, none of the officers had ever
been able to locate the head-quarters of the gang.
One fact had been established: large quantities of smuggled
goods had been carried into New York, and each week the
Government was swindled out of thousands of dollars of
revenue; and the illicit traffic had grown to such an extent
that a number of honest merchants had subscribed a large sum
of money which had been placed at the disposal of the
collector to be used as a fund for the breaking up of the
gang, who were ruining regular importers in certain branches
of trade and commerce.
Spencer Vance, although but a young man, had quite a
reputation as a detective. He had done some daring work in
running down a gang of forgers, and in the employ of a State
Government, he had been very successful in breaking up several
gangs of illicit whisky distillers. He was a resolute, cool,
experienced man, an officer who had faced death a hundred
times under the most perilous circumstances. and when
summoned upon the new duty he accepted the position readily.
By methods of his own he got upon the track of the workers;
the men who did the actual work of landing the contraband
goods.
The latter were not the really guilty men. They were not the
principals, the capitalists; but they were the employees who
for large pay ran off the coast, intercepted the steamers
carrying the contraband goods, and landed them within certain
assigned limits.
The men ostensibly were fishermen, and honest people among
whom they associated never "tumbled" to their real calling.
CHAPTER III.
The necessities of our narrative do not demand that we should
locate the exact quarter where the smugglers operated; and,
besides, as there were numerous gangs covering a space of
fifty miles along the coast, it would be almost impossible to
indicate intelligibly the field of their operations, were we
so inclined.
Spencer Vance, as stated, had adopted his own measures for
locating the men; in his earlier life he had been a sailor,
and had worked his way up until at the age of nineteen he held
the position of second mate on a large schooner; and when he
was assigned to the special duty of "piping" the smugglers,
his sea experience came in good play, and was of great aid to
kiln in his perilous duty.
The officer started out on his work by taking passage to the
Island of Cuba, and one day in the port of Havana a ragged
sailor dropped into a groggery kept by a Frenchman and made
himself acquainted with a number of sailors, who were having a
good time ashore.
The ragged Jack told his own tale, won upon the good-will of
the jolly fellows who were in for a good time, and in the end
was shipped for New York on a fast-sailing schooner.
The detective had an eye on the schooner, and well knew, when
as a sea-tramp he shipped on the vessel, he had struck a
smuggler.
It was a clear starry night when the vessel sighted the Long
Island shore after having slipped inward past Fire Island.
The detective lay low and watched for some hours.
He had known that something unusual was in progress on board
the schooner. The captain was below, and one of the mates had
charge of the deck; a light shone in the distance, like a red
star dancing over the waves, and the men on the schooner moved
about in a stealthy manner to and fro across the deck.
It was a strange thing to do; why should they tread thus
lightly the deck of a ship ten miles off shore, as though
their footsteps might be heard? Alas! it was a case of
involuntary stealth, a sign of the nervous, trepidation which
attends conscious guilt.
It did not seem that there could be any danger near; the
heavens were clear, the bosom of the deep unruffled even by an
evening breeze. Nature called not for the coward tread, and
the gleaming eye, the pale face, and the anxious glance hither
and thither. No, no; but the smugglers feared another peril.
Revenue cutters were known to be cruising along the coast;
more than ordinary vigilance was being exercised by a robbed
Government.
The men upon the schooner knew that the revenue officers were
up to many of their tricks and were posted as to many of their
signals; false lights might gleam across the waters like an
ignis fatuus luring on a famished traveler in the desert, and
within the hour after their calling had been betrayed, every
man might be in irons, and the cargo and the vessel would be
confiscated.
A fortune was at stake, and the shadow of a prison loomed out
over across the waters and threatened to close in behind them.
Spencer Vance, the disguised detective, the supposed sea-tramp,
moved about with the smugglers, acting as they acted, stepping
on tiptoe, and looking pale and anxious, and it did not require
that he should assume the pale excited look, for it was a
momentous crisis. He had hit the vessel the first clip, and he
had struck the trail which had baffled men who claimed a larger
experience in that particular branch of the detective service.
He had "piped" down to a critical moment, but he carried his
life in his hands. He was not watched, but one false move
might draw attention toward him, and but a mere suspicion at
that particular moment would cost him his life; these men would
not have stopped to bandy, words or make inquiries.
As stated, there came the gleam of a light flashing across the
calm waters, and the men who were not on ship duty strained
their eyes. Soon there followed a succession of lights,
signal lights telling their story, and then the schooner men
let out answering lights, and the sails were lowered and the
schooner merely drifted upon the bosom of the deep.
Spencer Vance was speechless with excitement as the little
game proceeded.
At this period in our story we will not describe the modus
operandi, as later on we propose to fully depict the
smugglers' methods under more exciting circumstances, when
Spencer Vance was better prepared to checkmate the game. We
have here only indicated in an introductory form the
detective's keen plan for running down and locating the haunts
of the pirates.
Three days following the maneuvers of the schooner off the
coast, the detective appeared at a fishing village, and at
once he set to locating his shore men.
It was not the poor sailors, who were mere instruments in the
robbery scheme, whom the detective was seeking to "pipe" down.
His game was to follow certain clews until he trailed up to
the capitalists, the really guilty parties, the rich men who
flaunted in New York in elegance and luxury on their ill-gotten
gains.
The detective had got an good terms with one of the gangs. He
had been off several times with them an a cruise, and considered
that he was fast working down to a dead open-and-shut, and the
really guilty parties, when he received the strange wanting at
the hands of the weird, but beautiful girl who called herself
Renie Pearce.
That same night the detective had engaged to go off in the
yacht; it was understood that a smuggler was expected off the
coast that night, and he was looking to strike on a big "lay."
We must explain to our readers that the arrival of expected
vessels is an uncertain event, and the shore watchers were
sometimes compelled to go off night after night, even for
weeks, before the vessel, sending out the long-looked-for
signals, hove in sight off the horizon; and it was on these
vigil nights the detective had sailed out with the men. He
had thought his game well played, his disguise perfect, his
victory sure, when, as stated, at the last moment, a strange,
beautiful girl came along and whispered in his ear the
terrible warning that danger awaited him if he went off in the
boat that night.
Spencer Vance, however, was undaunted; the warning was not
sufficient to deter him going off and braving death in the way
of duty, and he would have gone had not an incident occurred
that caused him to await another opportunity.
As recorded, after his encounter with Sol Burton, he returned
to where his boat lay, determined to go off to the yacht, when
a second time an apparition glided to his side and whispered a
few startling words in his ear.
CHAPTER IV.
The detective stood by his boat thinking over the thrilling
position of affairs, when Renie Pearce once more appeared
before him.
"Hello! you've come back, eh?" called the detective.
"Yes."
"Well, what now?"
"You are determined to go off to-night."
"Well?"
"You must not go, there's better game for you ashore!"
The detective was thrown off; he could not understand the
girl. Renie had confessed that she had originally betrayed
him to the smugglers, and then, when danger threatened, she
came and warned him, and her warning failing, she came
tripping to him once more, barefooted, ragged, and beautiful,
and held out to him an alluring bait.
There was no misunderstanding the purport of her words. She
betrayed the fact that she knew his full purpose, and her
words implied that she was ready to throw him a larger and
more certain game. Her wards were, "There's better game for
you ashore!"
"Are you, my friend, Renie?"
"Yes; I am your friend."
"If you are my friend, why did you betray me to the
smugglers?"
"I was not your friend then, I am your friend now. I can
serve you and you can serve me! Your life is in danger. You
will never return if you go out in the yacht to-night. I had
prepared you for your doom, but now I will save you, and again
I tell you that there's better game ashore."
"Why should I trust you! do you not confess to having betrayed
me?"
"I only knew you then as a government detective; now I know
you are a man."
"You must have made the latter discovery very suddenly."
"I did."
"When?"
"When you knocked Sol Burton down; that man meant me harm. I
could have defended myself against him, but a greater peril
menaces me to-night."
"What peril menaces you?"
"I have no confidant in the world; shall I make one of you?"
"Yes."
"My confidence may get you into trouble."
"How sad."
"You are a brave, noble man; you will desire to act as my
champion."
"You are a strange girl."
"Yes; mine is a hard lot; I am a waif; I am nothing; I am all
outcast; a thing, and yet--"
The girl ceased. She had spoken with a wild. energy, and she
had looked ravishingly beautiful while talking.
"And yet, what?" said the detective interrogatively.
"My heart is full of all the ambitions that might fill the
heart of a girl born in the midst of splendor and luxury; and
although the companion of smugglers, I love only what is pure
and beautiful; I cherish the fondest dreams, and yet--"
Again the detective supplemented:
"Well, go on."
"I am a poor, ragged, barefooted girl, the daughter of a
boat-keeper, and that is not all!"
"Tell me all."
"Shall I?"
"Yes."
"I had reason to suppose that my pretended father was my
friend; one thing is certain no millionaire ever guarded a
fair daughter with more tenderness than he has guarded me. He
has sent me to school, and has permitted me to become educated
far above my station. You know in this land that is an easy
thing for a poor man to do, but within a few days strange
suspicions have crossed my mind; no man even among the
roughest of them ever dared insult me. Tom Pearce would have
killed the man who dared bring one faint flush to my cheek
with his vile tongue! but alas! I fear--fear."
"What do you fear?"
"Shall I say it?"
"Certainly."
"I fear his tender care of me has been a speculation."
"You do not believe he is your friend?"
"I fear he is not."
"Some enemy may have traduced Tom Pearce."
"No; the words that aroused my suspicions fell frown his own
lips."
"And what do you fear?"
"You must learn from other lips."
"Who will tell me?"
"If you are to know at all, you must learn my fears from the
lips of my enemies."
"How shall I do that?"
"Are you willing to serve me?"
The detective was silent. He was certainly charmed and lured
by this beautiful child of the shore, but could he afford to
undertake to be the champion of a barefooted girl, though she
did own a strangely beautiful face?
"If you serve me I will serve you."
"What can you do for me?"
The girl's eyes gleamed as she answered:
"Let me but know that these men are my foes, that I owe them
no gratitude, and I can give you information for which the
government would pay thousands! and even to-night in serving
me you would also serve yourself."
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