The "Dock Rats" of New York; Or, The Smuggler Band's Last StandOld Sleuth
General
The "Dock Rats" of New York; Or, The Smuggler Band's Last Stand
Old Sleuth
Smuggling -- Fiction
The detective walked out. He had "coppered" all he required
for the time being. He took up his position a short distance
from the store, and awaited the reappearance of Denman upon
the street. He was not compelled to wait very long, as the
master of the "Nancy" soon appeared, and the detective fell
upon his trail.
Denman walked up town a short distance, and stopped in a
well-known bar-room, and the detective again got in on a
little wait. The master of the "Nancy" did not remain long in
the bar-room, and soon again appeared upon the street, when
the detective approached him.
"Hello, King," called Vance, "haven't you gone back yet?"
The master of the "Nancy" turned and recognized the countryman
whom he had called a "crank" on the train.
"Where did you come from?"
"I saw you come out of that place, and I thought I'd like to
have a few words with you."
"I have no time."
"Oh, yes; you call spare a few moments."
"Probably you know my business better than I do."
"I know you're in no hurry; you're not going out on the island
to-night."
"I am not going out on the island to-night?"
"Well, you're a 'no-such-thing'!"
"Come and have a beer?"
"I have no time, I tell you."
"It will not take you a minute; and I've something to tell
you."
"You've something to tell me?"
"Yes."
"What have you to say to me?"
"Something very important."
"What are you giving me now?"
"Facts. Cone along; I've a surprise for you."
The master of the "Nancy" was amused and at the same time
mystified. He could not dream what the countryman could have
to say to him.
"Come along," said Vance.
"You have something to tell me?"
"Yes."
"Tell me here."
"No; I want to sit down. It's a long story."
A curious look came over the smuggler's face, and, for the
first time, a faint suspicion crossed his mind. "Where will
we go?" he asked.
"Oh, here's a place."
The two men entered a beer saloon, the rear yard of which had
been converted into a garden, over which an awning was
stretched. They took a seat and Denman demanded in an
impatient tone:
"Well, what have you to say to me?"
There was no one in the garden but the two men; the waiter had
brought the beer and had gone away.
"You asked me what my name was on the train?"
"Yes, I did."
"I wouldn't tell you!"
"No."
"Well, do you know why?"
"No."
"You ought to know my name; you and I have met before; can't
you tell where?"
The detective all the time had preserved his rustic tones and
demeanor.
"You and I have met before?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
"Several times."
"Where?"
"Ah, you must guess."
"The master of the "Nancy" studied the detective's face.
"I do not remember ever having seen you before."
"Nonsense."
"You are having some fun at my expense."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes."
"Well, I am in dead earnest."
"Where did we meet before?"
"The last time we met I promised you we would meet again."
A fierce look shot into Denman's eyes as he permitted his
glance to roam around the garden.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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