Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
"Been with the department ever since I was a kid. Put me in plain clothes
since I came back. Lieutenant, this is Captain West, over across the pond
with the Engineers; we were buddies for about two months. What was
wanted, sir?"
"Well, Captain West has just been telling me a rather peculiar story, and
wanted some information I thought perhaps you could give; you know the
old town right now better than I do. First of all, do you recall any
crook by the name of Hobart--Jim Hobart?"
"Hobart? Hobart? no, not off hand, I don't. How old a man is he,
Captain?"
"Middle-aged, anyway; an active fellow enough, but his hair is
quite grey."
"Do you know where he hangs out?"
"The last I saw of him was in a saloon known as Mike's Place over on
Wray Street."
"Off Milwaukee; yes, I know. Mike is a big Pole, but has never had any
serious trouble so far as I know. However, being there is no special
recommendation to a guy, but I don't believe this man Hobart has been
pulled since I've been on the force. And you don't recall the name,
Lieutenant?"
"No; but he might be an old timer come back. Look him up in the index,
Mac. That will soon tell you whether we have got any such mug, or not."
McAdams drew out a thick volume from a near-by cabinet, and ran his
fingers swiftly down a long column of names, indexed under the letter
"H." Suddenly he stopped, with an exclamation.
"The lad is here all right--Government offence, fifteen years ago, third
arrest; mugged number 28113. Let's look him up, and see if he is the same
man. Come over here, Captain."
"Is that the fellow?" he asked.
West studied the face seriously.
"Yes, I believe it is, Mac," he said at length. "He looks much older now,
but those are his features all right. What was his game?"
"'Con' mostly, according to the record; only one conviction though, two
years in Detroit for using the mails to defraud. Oh, yes, here is
something different, 'assault with intent to kill'--indeterminate
sentence to Joliet for that. Nothing heard of him since. So he is back,
and at the old game again. Do you want him brought in, Captain?"
"No, not yet. I haven't anything against the man now but a suspicion. I
wanted to learn his record, that's all. This inquiry was only incidental.
What I'm really interested in just at present is something I picked up in
the alley back of Mike's Place three or four hours ago. It's a note in a
woman's hand-writing, and when I found it, it was hidden in a small
silver pen-knife, such as a lady might carry. I thought it might have
some connection with the case I'm trying to catch this fellow Hobart in."
"There is a woman in it, then?"
"Yes; but I haven't got things hitched up sufficiently to talk about it.
The note itself is blind."
"In what respect?"
"Well, here it is. Can you make it out? I'll read it for you--'_Please
notify police to search Seminole quick_.'"
"No signature?"
"None."
"But that is plain enough, isn't it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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