The Burglar's Fate, and The Detectives — John Shaqi
The Burglar's Fate, and The DetectivesPinkerton, Allan
General
The Burglar's Fate, and The Detectives
Pinkerton, Allan
Detective and mystery stories; Detectives -- United States; Robbery -- United States -- Case studies
A glance at the inside of these neat little envelopes would have
satisfied all doubts upon the question, but with a delicate regard for
the privacy of individual correspondence, William would not have opened
them for any consideration.
"This is very clever," said he; "but I am afraid Mrs. Andrews is not
quite sharp enough for us this time. However, we will sleep upon the
matter, and see what will turn up by to-morrow."
The next morning all doubts were set at rest. Mr. Warner, my son William
and myself, were seated in my office discussing this question. We were
unanimous in our opinion that the letter addressed to Newton Edwards was
a decoy; and with Everman's information before us, that Edwards was
hiding somewhere in New York state, which began with a "Mac," all of us
were convinced that the second letter alone was deserving of serious
attention.
While we were thus debating the question, the mail brought us a report
from William Everman at Woodford, that settled all doubts. Mrs. Edwards,
he stated, had been seen to mail a letter that evening, and after a
serious effort, Everman had obtained a glance at the address. It was as
follows:
William Amos,
McDonald,
New York.
"That settles it!" said I; "send at once to McDonald, and my word for
it, Edwards will be found."
Whether I prophesied true or not, will soon be seen.
CHAPTER X.
The Burglar Tracked to His Lair--The Old Stage Driver--A Fishing
Party--A Long Wait--A Sorrowful Surprise--The Arrest of Newton Edwards.
Our plans were soon completed for a visit to the place indicated by the
address upon the two letters. In the meantime, however, I had telegraphed
to the police officials at Denver, and learned from them that no such
person as Newton Edwards had been about that place, or was known there at
all. They also promised that if any one called for a letter addressed to
that name they would arrest him at once and inform us immediately.
McDonald, I soon learned, was a little village in the central part of
New York, remotely situated, and with no railroad or telegraph
facilities of any kind. An excellent hiding-place for a fugitive
certainly, particularly, as I suspected, if he had relatives residing
there. Far away from the swift and powerful messengers of steam and
electricity, he might safely repose in quiet seclusion until the
excitement had died away and pursuit was abandoned. Such places as these
afford a secure harbor for the stranded wrecks of humanity, and many a
fleeing criminal has passed years of his life in quiet localities, where
he was removed from the toil and bustle, and the prying eyes of the
officers of the law in the more populous cities and towns.
Two men were selected for this journey, and their preparations were soon
made. That evening they were flying over the ground in the direction of
the little hamlet, where they were hopeful of finding the man they were
seeking.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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