Abduction -- Fiction; Americans -- Europe -- Fiction; Love stories
In the morning his shoulder was so sore that the surgeon informed
him he could not use the arm for several days. Turk philosophically
bore the brunt of his master's ire. Like a little Napoleon he
endured the savage assaults from Quentin's vocal batteries, taking
them as lamentations instead of imprecations. The morning newspapers
mentioned the attempt to rob Mrs. Garrison's house and soundly
deplored the unstrategic and ill-advised attempt of “an American
named Canton” to capture the desperado. “The police department is
severe in its criticism of the childish act which allowed the wretch
to escape detection without leaving the faintest clew behind.
Officers were close at hand, and the slightest warning would have
had them at the Garrison home. The capture of this man would have
meant much to the department, as he is undoubtedly one of the
diamond robbers who are working havoc in Brussels at this time. He
was, it is stated positively by the police, not alone in his
operations last night. His duty, it is believed, was to obtain the
lay of the land and to give the signal at the proper moment for a
careful and systematic raid of the wealthy woman's house. The police
now fear that the robbers, whose daring exploits have shocked and
alarmed all Brussels, are on their guard and a well-defined plan to
effect their capture is ruined. A prominent attache of the
department is of the opinion that an attempt was to have been made
by the band to relieve all of Mrs. Garrison's guests of their jewels
in a sensational game of 'stand and deliver.'”
“The miserable asses!” exploded Phil, when 'he read the foregoing.
“That is the worst rot I ever read. This police department couldn't
catch a thief if he were tied to a tree. Turk, if they were so near
at hand why the devil didn't they get into the chase with me and run
that fellow down?”
“Th' chances are they was in th' chase, Mr. Quentin, but they didn't
get th' proper direction. They thought he was bein' chased th' other
way, an' I wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em run five or six
miles before they stopped t' reflect.”
“If there is a gang of diamond robbers or comic opera bandits in
this city I'll bet my hand they could steal the sidewalks without
being detected, much less captured. A scheme to rob all of Mrs.
Garrison's guests! The asses!”
“Don't get excited, sir. You'll burst a blood vessel, an' that's a
good sight worse than a cut,” cautioned Turk.
“Turk, in all your burglarious years, did you ever go about robbing
a house in that manner?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Well, what are we to do next?” demanded Quentin, reflectively,
ignoring his former question and Turk's specific answer. “Shall we
give the police all the information we have and land Mr. Courant in
jail?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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