CHAPTER VI.
DYKE DARREL'S DANGER.
Martin Skidway was an old offender, and through the efforts of DykeDarrel he and his uncle had been detected in crime and sent to theMissouri State prison for a term of years. It was a mere accident thatthe detective came upon the escaped young counterfeiter, or rather itwas through the young villain's own foolhardiness that he was again indurance vile.
"I will not serve my time out, you can bet high on that," asserted theyoung prisoner in a confident tone.
Dyke Darrel more than half suspected that the young counterfeiter knewsomething of the late crime on the midnight express, and during theride to St. Louis he did all that he could to worm a confession fromthe prisoner.
"It is possible that you may get your freedom at an early day," saidthe detective. "I have heard of men turning State's evidence, andprofiting by it."
"I suppose so."
"I would advise you to think on this, Martin Skidway."
"Why should I think on it? Do you think I'm a fool, Dyke Darrel?"
"Not quite," and the detective smiled. "I know you have been prettysharp, young man, but not keen enough to escape punishment. You havefive years yet to serve, at the end of which time you may be arrestedand hung for another crime."
"You are giving me wind now."
"I am not. A terrible crime was committed four and twenty hours since,and on this road; a midnight crime that the whole country will work topunish. It will we impossible for the express robbers to escape."
"You are a braggart!"
"I do not say that _I_ will be the one to bring these villains tojustice, but I do say that justice will be done, and I expect to seethe murderers of Arnold Nicholson hung." The keen eyes of Dyke Darrelfixed themselves on the face of his prisoner, with a penetratingsharpness that fairly made the fellow squirm in his seat. On more thanone occasion had the railroad detective brought confession from thelips of guilt, through the magnetism of his terrible glance.
He tried his powers on the man at his side, and found him yielding tothe pressure, when Skidway suddenly turned his face to the window, andrefused to encounter the gaze of his captor.
By this means he was able to defy the magnetic powers of thedetective.
"Martin Skidway, you may as well admit that you know something of thislatest villainy. Even if you were not connected with it, you know WHOwas?"
The prisoner remained silent.
Dyke Darrel proceeded:
"You said that you were a brakeman on the train on which poorNicholson found his death. Was that the truth?"
"It was."
"It is now for your own good that you make confession, MartinSkidway!"
"I've nothing to confess."
"Be careful!"
"You can't scare me into telling a lie," said the prisoner, with anassumption of bravado that he did not feel. "I don't know anythingabout the express robbers, only what I've told you; you can make themost of that."
"I mean to do so," assured Dyke Darrel. "I shall not leave the trailuntil the perpetrators of that crime are secured and punished. In thatday you may wish that you had not been so obstinate."
"I have told all I know."
"I hope you have!"
"You believe I am lying, Dyke Darrel?"
"It doesn't matter what I believe," retorted the detective. "Ofcourse, you are not of the sort who believe in telling facts when afalsehood will serve you better. I did not expect anything different."
Arrived at the Southwestern metropolis, Dyke Darrel turned hisprisoner over to the proper officers, warning them of the dangerousnature of young Skidway, and then he turned his thoughts and feet inanother channel.
Dyke Darrel went to the office of the railroad company on whose roadthe midnight crime had been committed, and consulted with one of theofficers in regard to the same.
"It is a terrible affair," said Mr. Holden, the officer in question."I telegraphed our folks in Chicago to employ detectives in that city,and expect to have the best talent in the country look into this."
"Of course. Any clew discovered?"
"None."
"I believe the villains covered their tracks well," said Dyke Darrel."The express messenger who was murdered was a personal friend."
"Your friend?"
"Yes; one I had known for years, which explains my interest in thecase. I suppose I have your good wishes in hunting down the outlaws?"
"Well, of course; but it is a task that may tax the coolness andingenuity of skilled detectives. Amateurs have no place on this case,I assure you."
"Admitted," returned the young detective, with a smile. "You haveheard of Dyke Darrel?"
"I should think I had. He is the best detective in the West, now thatPinkerton is gone; he was a trusted friend of Allan Pinkerton, too."
"He was."
"I've telegraphed for our people to see about employing Dyke Darrel. Ishan't be content without."
Again a smile swept the face of the young detective.
"It seems that you never met Dyke Darrel, Mr. Holden."
"Never; but---"
"You see him now at any rate."
"What?"
"_I_ am Dyke Darrel."
"YOU?"
"The same."
"Dyke Darrel, the railroad detective; the fellow who captured thebrute Crogan, and broke up the counterfeiters' nest near IronMountain; the man who has sent more criminals over the road than anyother detective in the wide West--YOU?"
"The same, at your service," and Darrel bowed and smiled again.
"Well, I AM astonished."
Nevertheless the incredulous railway official seemed pleased at thelast, and shook the young detective warmly by the hand.
"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Darrel, and hope we can induce you to takeup this case. A great many suspects have been reported, but I takestock in none of them. I trust the whole affair (the management of it,I mean) to you. Will you go into it, Mr. Darrel?"
"Certainly."
Some time longer the detective and official talked, and the lamps inthe streets were lit when Dyke Darrel left the presence of Mr. Holden,and turned his steps toward a hotel.
"I must send a line to Nell," mused the detective, as he moved along."I shall remain a short time in St. Louis, as I may pick up somepoints here that will be of use to me. I am of the opinion that eitherthis city or Chicago holds the perpetrators of this latest railroadcrime."
The detective did not see the shadowy form flitting along not farbehind. A man had shadowed the detective since his departure from therailway office. Dyke Darrel, in order to make a short cut, had entereda narrow street, where the lights were few and the buildings dingy andof a mean order.
Moving on, deeply wrapped in thought, the detective permitted his"shadow" to steal upon him, and just as Dyke Darrel came opposite anarrow alley, the shadow sprang forward and dealt him a stunning blowon the head.
The detective reeled, but did not fall. Partially stunned, he turnedupon his assailant, only to meet the gleam of cold steel as a knifedescended into his bosom!