The Dock Rats of New York
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Old Sleuth >> The Dock Rats of New York
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The detective called to the two men in the boat:
"Don't you fellows land again, or it will cost you your
lives!"
The men made no reply, and the detective moved away in the
same direction that had been pursued by Renie. He had gone
less than a hundred feet, when he met the girl coming toward
him.
The detective was both amused and pleased. He realized that
in case of an emergency the girl would be of great help.
"Never mind, my child, I've settled 'em!" he said:
Still the girl made no reply, and it was then the detective
discovered that she had been gagged. He also discovered that
her arms had been secured, so she could not raise them to her
head.
It took him but a moment to release her with his knife, when
she exclaimed:
"I thank you for coming to my aid; but where are the villains?"
"I reckon they've gone off to their boat; but come, we will
see. With such a noble and brave ally I would not hesitate to
invite a scrimmage with half a dozen of them."
The detective's guess proved correct. The two men whom he had
first dropped had evidently recovered their senses, and had
joined their pals on the beach, as a boat bearing four persons
could be seen moving off toward the yacht.
As our readers can well imagine, it was not because of the
detective's warning that the men pulled away to their boat.
Garcia remembered that he had stricken down the old smuggler,
and it was the consequences of that act which made him anxious
to get away.
"There they go, Renie!"
"Yes; thanks to you, I am not going with them;" answered the
girl.
"Why was the assault made upon you, my child?"
"You are my friend; I will tell you all now. That man Garcia
is a villain! He has made all manner of propositions to me to
induce me to leave the coast and go to the city with him, but
I knew the man to be a villain, a murderer, and criminal of
the worst sort, and I refused all his offers."
"On what pretense did he make offers to you, my child?"
"Oh, he told me I was fitted to adorn a mansion, that this
life with these rough fishermen was no life for me, and that
he would take me to live as his child in luxury and splendor."
"In one respect, Renie, the man told you truly. You are not
fitted to dwell among these rough men around here."
"I know that well enough, but I will not leave my father, and
when I do I shall not place myself under the protection of a
man like Garcia."
"Who is this man Garcia?"
"He is a Cuban, or rather his father was a Cuban, and his
mother, as I've heard him say, was an Irish lady. I think he
is one of the capitalists engaged in the smuggling trade; and
that he is a villain and scoundrel I know!"
"He had a long interview with Tom Pearce to-night."
"Yes; I requested you to be a listener to their talk. What
did you overhear?"
"Tom Pearce is an honest and good man, as far as you are
concerned; the fellow Garcia was seeking with the offer of
bribes to induce the old man to take you to New York and
surrender you to his keeping. He used the same arguments with
your father that he used with you."
"And what did my father say to his propositions?"
"He gave no decided answer; but one thing is certain, the old
man would never surrender you to that fellow if he had the
least suspicion that any harm would come to you."
"What has occurred this night will convince him, I reckon."
"Yes, I should say so," responded the detective.
"I would not have gone to that man's house even had my father
consented. I have a mind and will of my own; and now that I
am on my guard I will take care of myself against any such
attacks in future."
"I don't know, Renie; I do not think you will be safe here."
"The men around here will protect me."
At that moment a diminutive shadow was cast on the sand in
front of Renie and the detective, and a moment later a little
fellow, a mere child seemingly in years, appeared before them.
"Hello, Tommy, where did you come from?" demanded Renie.
"I want to speak to you, Renie."
"Well, speak out, Tommy."
"I won't speak before anyone. I've awful news to tell you."
"Go and hear what the lad has to say to you," suggested Vance,
Renie stepped aside with the lad, when the latter whispered in
a low tone:
"Sol Burton has made trouble."
"What has he done?"
"He told the men that you gave that man warning, and they're
awful mad at you, and they've put up a job to get the man into
a quarrel."
"Where are the men now?"
"Down to Rigby's."
"They expect the detective down there to-night?"
"Yes."
"And Sol Burton was the man who told them I gave the detective
warning?"
"Yes."
"You go down to Rigby's and listen to what goes on, and in
about an hour come up and report to me."
"Where will you be?"
"At the cabin."
Tom Pearce's house was generally called the cabin, as the
timbers and other materials of which it was constructed were
portions of a wreck that had come ashore many years
previously.
Tommy bid the girl good-night, and the latter returned to the
detective.
"Well, is the communication confidential?"
"You are in great peril."
"Am I?"
"You are."
"From which quarter does the danger threaten me?"
"Sol Burton has reported against me."
"What has he reported?"
"He has told the men that I warned you, and that is the reason
you did not go off in the yacht."
"The men will not harm you, I reckon."
"No, they will not harm me."
"Then I reckon no harm is done."
"The men have sworn to get square with you tonight!"
CHAPTER VIII.
The detective laughed in a quiet way, and said:
"My dear child, I have been in hotter danger than any that
threatens me at this moment. I know now in which quarter the
danger lies, and I would be a poor man were I to be frightened
off when holding that 'lead.'"
"But those men are set to catch you to-night. They have sworn
to assault you, and there are twenty of them, all told; you
may treat the danger lightly, but I tell you they are a
desperate lot. They will make good their threat unless you
go. It will be impossible for you to stand against them all."
"Never you fear for me, Renie; I'll go off in the yacht to-night.
She catches a 'liner,' and don't you forget."
"You will go off in the yacht with those men?" exclaimed the
girl.
"Yes, I will."
'Never! they will go for you at sight! They know now that you
have been warned."
"I will look out for myself; it is not my peril we must
consider, but yours."
"I am safe. I shall tell all to my father, and after that it
will be a dangerous thing for Garcia to show his face around
our cabin."
"The man has money, he will operate by trick and device. He
will bribe someone whom you consider your best friend to aid
him, and already you have an enemy."
"Sol Burton?"
"Yes."
"I do not fear him. I'll scare that man over to the mainland,
to remain there, before to-morrow's sunset. No, no! I am not
in danger, but you are."
"You need have no fear for me."
"You will not go to Rigby's to-night?"
"I may go down there."
"And invite your doom?"
The detective smiled as he answered:
"I can depend upon you?"
"How depend upon me?"
"You will not give any information against me!"
"I certainly will not."
"You must not know anything about me when you are questioned,
but you can suggest that, possibly, I have become seared, and
slid away."
"Why do you not go?"
"Go! why, my child, I'm getting right down to the business
that brought me here; in a few days I'll have matters dead to
rights; and, while I think of it, let me warn you, do not let
Tom Pearce go off any more."
"He does not go off nowadays. He has not been off in the
yacht for a year. He is getting too old."
"Give him a warning."
"How warn him?"
"Tell him to lay low, that the officers have got all the
points down good, and are about to close in; tell him he'll be
safe if he lies quiet close from this time out."
"I will warn him; but, alas! it's you who should take warning.
You know not your peril?"
"We will drop that matter for the present. I have only one
more word to say: You must know nothing about me, under any
circumstances whatever; you must never seek to communicate
with me, unless I first address you."
"I do not understand."
"It is not necessary for you to understand; you are a girl of
ready wit; a general command to you is sufficient. I have
good reasons for my request. I am amply able to take care of
myself under all circumstances; my fear, as I told you, is for
you. And now, to change the subject, have you any intimate
friend, save your father?"
"Not one."
"Can I claim to be a friend of yours?"
The girl answered promptly:
"You have already proven yourself a friend."
"You remember the words addressed to you by Sol Burton?"
"Yes."
"That fellow, I am satisfied, has no information for you."
"I have so decided in my own mind."
"Will you confide in me as a friend?"
"I will!" came the ready reply.
"I have reason to know that there is a mystery connected with
your committal, years ago, to the care of Mrs. Pearce."
"I know that myself."
"I can solve that mystery if you permit me to do so."
"I believe you can aid me; but if you go to Rigby's to-night
you can never do service far me; these men will make good
their threat!"
"We will not talk about me now; we will talk about you, and I
wish to ask you one question: Were you with Mrs. Pearce when
she died"
"I was."
"Did she succeed in making any communication"
"She did not."
"Not even one word?"
"She only succeeded in saying, 'Renie, I have something
important to tell you;' then her tongue became paralyzed, and
she never spoke again."
"Upon no former occasion did she ever give you hint?"
"Never."
"She never told you of the circumstances under which you were
confided to her care?"
"Never."
"And she never spoke of a mysterious box or any relics that
might some day serve as identification tokens."
"Never. She always gave me to understand that she was my real
mother."
"Well, now, Renie, I wish to ask you some very, important
questions, and I desire that you will think and consider well
before you make a reply."
"I have a good memory; but, first, tell me what was the
purport of the conversation between my father and the man
Garcia?"
"We will not speak of that now."
"There were revelations made"
"Yes."
"And you will repeat them to me?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Some day."
"Why not now?"
"I will answer you frankly. I have determined, as I told you,
to solve the mystery connected with your consignment to the
care of Mrs. Pearce, and I do not wish to tell you anything
that will start any suggestions in your mind, until I have
collected and considered all the little memories you may have
retained of the habits of your supposed mother."
"Her habits were ordinary and commonplace enough. She was
merely a good, hard-working fisherman's wife."
"But did she not act like a woman who possessed: a secret?"
The girl was thoughtful for some moments.
"I do remember a strange incident that once occurred when I
was quite a girl."
"Ah! now we are getting down to it. Relate the incident."
"My reputed mother is buried in the graveyard on the mainland,
beside the grave of her son."
"Yes."
"Well, once she visited his grave with me, and as she stood
weeping, she said, after focusing her eyes on me in a strange
manner:
"'Renie, some day from that grave may come forth a strange
secret; the day may come when I will tell you about it.'"
CHAPTER II.
The detective was keenly interested at once.
"Were you old enough to consider her remark seriously?"
"Yes; I formed an idea as to her meaning."
"What was your idea?"
"She alluded to the resurrection of the dead. She was what
they called a Millerite."
"Yes; I have heard of those people--a strange sect, who
believed the world was coming to an end about every three
months. So you thought she alluded to the resurrection?"
"Yes."
"Did she visit her son's grave often?"
"No."
"Did you ever notice that her mind took any particular line of
thought after these visits?"
"No."
The detective was thoughtful a moment, but his meditations
were rudely disturbed by the reappearance of the boy Tommy.
The little fellow had been running hard, and was almost
breathless as he called to Renie: "Come quick! I've something
to tell you."
The girl stepped aside with the lad, when the latter laid:
"They're coming for him."
"For whom?"
"That man."
The lad, pointed toward the detective.
"Who is coming?"
"The crew of the 'Nancy.' They're all wild drunk, and they're
sure to try to hurt him."
"How do they know he is here?"
"Someone ran in the tavern and told 'em."
"Who was it?"
"I don't know. I was down there 'laying around' on the watch,
when a man ran in and whispered something to the big mate, and
then the men all took a 'stiff tin' and with oaths and curses
started to go to your daddy's cabin. I ran ahead of them to
warn you."
"They will not harm me."
"No, but they are after him sure!" again the lad pointed
toward the detective.
"All right, Tommy, you go and watch them, we'll look out."
Renie returned to where the detective stood, and said:
"Come with me, we've not a moment to spare."
"What's the matter now?"
"The gang have learned that you are still on the coast; they
are all mad drunk, and they're coming for you!"
"Which way are the men coming?"
"They are going to my father's cabin, and if they do not find
you there they will commence a search for you; they're all mad
with liquor, and should they find you, no power on earth can
save you!"
"Nonsense! they cannot harm me. I only fear for you; and now
listen, I've other work around here beyond the duty of
breaking up the gang of smugglers. I'm going to solve the
mystery of your life, fathom the secret of Betsy Pearce, and
mark my, words, I'll succeed!"
"Oh, do not remain here to-night! listen, they are almost upon
us! fly with me! I can place you in a hiding-place!"
"If I lose my life to-night, it will be your fault, Renie."
"My fault?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
"Because you will not do as I say."
"What shall I do?"
"Go to your father's cabin, and deny any knowledge of me."
"You demand that I shall leave you?"
"Yes."
"I go at your command!"
The girl glided away.
Meantime the detective heard loud voices and signs of intense
excitement over at the boatman's cabin, which was not more
than six hundred feet distant from where the detective and
Renie stood, while the conversation which we have repeated was
in progress.
Strange feelings were raging in the detective's bosom at that
moment. He had known the beautiful barefooted girl but a few
hours, and he had come to feel more interest in her than he
had ever cherished for any other human being since the day he
had laid his widowed mother to rest in the church-yard.
When he had first glanced at the girl under the exciting
circumstances of that truly eventful night, he had considered
her a rustic beauty, handsome, but ignorant; but alas! a
better knowledge of her taught him that she was a refined and
educated girl, despite the fact of the bare feet, her unkempt
hair, and long residence among the fishermen and smugglers of
the coast.
She was a true child of romance, a wonderful prodigy of a
strange and weird fate, and he could not but picture to
himself what a ravishingly lovely creature she would be under
different auspices; and he wondered not that the Cuban
villain, Garcia, was anxious to secure possession of her.
The detective quickly thought over the whole matter. He
discerned the Cuban's purpose; the man meant to take the girl
to Cuba, perchance, to make her his wife, and why not? She
was beautiful, and there was a possibility that she might
develop into a great heiress.
The detective, however, did not have much time to meditate on
his strange meeting with the girl and the stranger incidents
that followed that meeting. He was warned that it was
necessary for him to take measures for the safety of his life.
Spencer Vane was a thoroughly experienced detective. He was
no tyro at the business, and he was up to all the tricks and
devices of the modern science of criminal detection. He was
as good at the art of disguise as any in the profession, and
it was his skill in the latter particular which make him so
indifferent as to the approach of the gang of madly drunken
smugglers.
Our hero walked over behind a high sand drift, and in a few
minutes had worked a most startling and extraordinary
"transform;" no living man, unless posted as to his disguise,
could ever have recognised in the dark-faced, rough-looking
man who issued from behind the drift, the same light-haired,
dashing-looking fellow who had a moment before disappeared
behind it.
CHAPTER X.
The detective had just completed his change in appearance,
when he was startled by hearing a shrill piercing scream in a
female voice from the direction of Tom Pearce's cabin.
"As I feared!" he muttered, and he walked rapidly toward the
cabin, and approaching, he saw an excited group of men
standing outside, while something of a more ordinary character
appeared to be transpiring beneath the humble roof.
The detective approached the group of men standing outside and
inquired:
"Hello, what's going on here?"
The men crowded around the new-comer, and glared in his face,
and one of the men called out,
"Ahoy there, bring a glim here, quick! Here's stranger, and
by all that's fatal, I believe Tom's enemy!"
The detective was perfectly cool as he answered;
"Will you tell me what's going on here"
"Who are you, anyhow?" came the query in a rough tone.
Meantime one of the men had brought out a ship's lantern, and
it was held up in front of the detective's face, and the men
glared at him.
"Do any of you know this fellow?" came the question.
One man after another declared his utter ignorance of the
identity of the stranger.
"Who are you, my man?" again came the question;
"My name is Ballard, but I reckon no one around here knows
me."
"I reckon you're right, you villain! and now what brings you
here?"
"I came here to see a woman named Betsy Pearce."
"You came here to see a woman named Betsy Pearce?"
"Yes."
"What brought you here to see Betsy Pearce?"
"That's my business."
"You've been here before, to-night, old man!"
"Who says so?"
"We all do."
"Then you are all mistaken!"
"We are, eh? Well, my friend, it stands you in hand to give
an account of yourself, and explain your presence here, or
tomorrow's sun will never rise before your eyes!"
"Will you men explain why I am assailed this way?"
"My friend, Tom Pearce, has been found in his cabin
unconscious!"
The detective gave a start, and a shudder passed over his
stalwart frame. The start and shudder were the result of far
different causes than the men around him supposed, but they
noticed his momentary agitation, and one of them exclaimed:
"We've got the right man! And now, boys, get a rope; there'll
be no foolin' in this case!"
Meantime one of the men entered the cabin and whispered to
Renie, who was weeping over the body of her murdered father.
"They've caught the rascal, miss, and they're going to hang
him!"
The girl uttered a scream, a wild piercing wail of anguish and
terror! At that terrible moment it flashed across her mind
that the men had caught Spencer Vance, and had concluded that
the detective was the assailant of her father.
The girl rushed from the cabin screaming:
"Hold! Hold! do not harm that man! He is innocent! Hold!
Hold, I say!"
The girl advanced to the center of the group of men that
surrounded the detective, still exclaiming:
"Do not harm that man! he is innocent! He is innocent!"
She approached close to the prisoner; one of the men held the
the lantern so its gleam shone full in the detective's face,
and he inquired:
"Do you know him, Renie?"
The girl fixed her eyes on the prisoner and recoiling,
exclaimed:
"No, no, I do not know him! I thought it was another man! He
must be the one!"
As the excited girl spoke she pointed toward the detective.
The latter still stood, the coolest party amidst all there
assembled.
Renie had taken but a cursory glance at the prisoner. One
glance had been sufficient to prove to her that it was not the
detective, and observing the man's swarthy complexion she
connected him with the Cuban Garcia, and it was the latter
fact which in the excitement of the moment caused her to
exclaim
"He must be the one!"
As stated, the detective was perfectly cool, but he realized
his position in all its terribleness, and more fully, when one
of the men said:
"Now, then, stranger, give an account of yourself."
"I tell you I came here to see Betsy Pearce."
"You were not at this cabin before to-night."
"I was not."
"Where do you hail from?"
"That's my business."
"That means you won't tell"
"Yes."
"You may be sorry anon, good man; and now answer! What was
your business with Betsy Pearce?"
"I will not answer."
"You had no business with Tom Pearce?"
"I did not."
"Stranger, your story don't work. Betsy Pearce has been dead
and in her grave these two years."
"I know that!"
"Ah, you knew it?"
"Yes, I learned so since my arrival on the coast."
Renie had returned to the interior of the cabin, and one of
the men said:
"Is the rope ready?"
"Yes," came the answer.
"Do you hear that, stranger?"
"I do."
"Rig a swing cross, boys. We'll fix this fellow, and teach
all comers that this is the wrong coast for such scoundrels!"
The detective fully realized the men were in earnest, and
that, unless some fortunate accident intervened. it would
indeed be an "up you go" with him.
It would be hard to conceive a more embarrassing and critical
position. The detective could not appeal to Renie openly as
the appeal would reveal his real identity; and no opportunity
appeared for a quiet revelation of himself to the girl.
He was led to the place of execution; the rope was thrown over
his head, when Renie came forth from the cabin. She ran
forward to where the victim stood.
"Hold! Hold!" she said, "what are you about to do?"
"Hang your father's assailant!"
"Does the man confess his guilt?"
"No."
"Let me speak to him."
The girl pressed forward close to the doomed man, and
addressing him, said:
"Are you innocent or guilty?"
"It makes no difference now; but tell me are you Renie
Pearce?"
"I am Renie Pearce."
"I have an important communication to make to you before I
die."
"To me?"
"Yes."
"Well, speak!"
"What I communicate must be spoken in your ear alone, as it
concerns you only."
"Go and see what he has to say," commanded the leader of the
lynching party.
The girl stepped close to the man and the lyncher stepped
back.
In a low tone the detective said:
"Be calm and do not betray that you know me!"
The girl felt her heart stand still, and a cry rose to her
lips.
"Hold," whispered the officer, "or you will destroy all
chances for escape."
The girl's face assumed the hue of death, a thrilling
suspicion flashed through her mind.
"You can save me, Renie, but if you betray my real identity I
am doomed!"
"Are you Spencer Vance?"
"Yes."
"Heavens! what does this mean?"
"It is no time for explanations now; tell me, is your father
dead"
"He shows signs of life."
"Then you can save my life."
"You shall not die!"
"Listen, tell the men I have made certain revelations to you;
tell them your father is reviving; bid them wait and let the
old man identify me as the assailant, or proclaim my innocence."
"I see! I see!" said the girl.
"Remember, under no circumstances, even though I die, must my
identity be betrayed!"
"You can trust me."
The girl stepped toward the men, and addressing them, said:
"You must not hang that man!"
"Is the man your friend?" came the question in a jeering tone.
"The man is a stranger; but I am satisfied he did not strike
down my father. He has told me important things; my father
revives, let my father see this man!"
At the moment there came a fortunate diversion in favor of the
policy of delay; a voice called in from the house
"Come here, Renie, your father is reviving. He has called for
you!"
"Bring the man to my father," said the girl.
"Yes," came the answer from several.
"Throw the rope off from around his neck."
A young man stepped forward and did as commanded.
The sentiment was turning in favor of the seemingly doomed
man.
CHAPTER XI.
It was an exciting moment when the detective was led into the
cabin; as many as could get in, crowded into the low-ceiled
room.
The old man had rapidly revived, his only attendant being an
old man-of-war's-man, who had had a large experience with
wounded men.
The detective meantime was quite confident; conscious of his
innocence he welcomed the inspection.
The wounded man opened his eyes and gazed around the room.
"Where am I?" he demanded.
Renie stepped to his side and said:
"You are in your own cabin, father."
The old man gazed around wildly at the pale faces gathered
around his bed; the detective was led forward and the old
smuggler's glance fell upon the stark face. Suddenly the
wounded man uttered a thrilling cry, rose up in the bed to a
sitting position, end pointing his finger at the detective,
demanded in a hoarse voice
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