CHAPTER XI.
AN UNEXPECTED ALLY.
For a moment no one spoke.
The kneeling boy wept by the side of the woman's body upon the floor,the crowd falling back to make way for him of their own accord.
"Come, my boy," said Detective Hook, at length, laying his hand withwomanly tenderness upon Frank's shoulder, "this is no place for you.The coroner has a duty here; meanwhile you had better come with me."
The boy arose obediently.
Forcing back the crowd, the detective closed the door of the littleroom behind him, and taking Frank by the arm, he led him to the streetwithout speaking a word.
To Jerry Buck, who had followed them through the alley and nowstood with his bundle of newspapers under his arm staring at themwonderingly, he paid no attention at all.
At this moment the policeman who, at the detective's orders, had takenthe stolen dollars to the Oak Street station, came hurrying up.
Releasing his hold on Frank's arm, Caleb Hook drew the man aside andwhispered a few hurried words in his ear.
The policeman turned abruptly and hurried back in the direction fromwhich he had come.
"That man will see that all proper steps are taken for the care ofthe remains of your unfortunate mother," said the detective, quietly,"which leaves me free to attend to you."
"Now, my boy, I want to talk with you. I know you to be the sameperson who has twice given me the slip to-night, and by right ought tohandcuff you and take you to the station at once. But, although it maysurprise you, I don't propose to do anything of the sort, for I thinkit unnecessary to resort to such means."
"I'll go with you now, sir," replied Frank, in a broken voice. "I wasjust going to give myself up. I shall not try to escape again."
"Good!" replied the man, putting his arm through that of the boy andmoving up Catherine street as he spoke. "I flatter myself I can readmen's faces as well as the next, and that is why I have determined toplace confidence in you. I may deem it my duty to arrest you yet. Verylikely I shall; but before I do so I am going to have a quiet talk withyou, when I'm certain you'll see the advantage of telling me the wholetruth about this bank affair, and in order that we may be undisturbed Ipropose to take you to my own room, which, fortunately, is not far off."
Now the room occupied by Caleb Hook--for he was a bachelor, andhad no one to care for but himself--was situated in a respectablelodging-house in Madison street, between Montgomery and Clinton.
Ten minutes later the detective himself entered the apartment, followedby the youthful assistant cashier of the Webster National Bank.
It was a large room on the second floor of the house.
The furniture was modern and abundant, giving to the interior athoroughly comfortable air.
Locking the door behind him and lighting a handsome drop-light,Detective Hook touched a match to a fire already laid in the opengrate, which in a moment broke into a cheerful blaze.
"Now then, young man," he said, pulling off his overcoat, and drawingup a comfortable easy chair, "you are my guest for the present, whetherI conclude to turn you over to the authorities later on or not. Sitdown there, and make yourself at home."
Frank seated himself wearily and remained gazing at the fire withoutreply.
Meanwhile, Caleb Hook studied his face in silence.
"Was that woman really your mother?" he said at length.
"Yes."
The boy had burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.
"Poor fellow!" said the detective, sympathizingly, putting his handgently upon his shoulder, "I had a mother once, whom I loved betterthan any one in the world. Dear me! she died a dozen years ago.
"You've had a great deal of trouble," he added, after a short pause. "Ican see that at a glance. Now, do you know, Frank, that two-thirds ofthe scrapes people get themselves into come from lying? Suppose yourmother were to speak to you now? Don't you think she would advise youto tell me all you know about this bank affair? Come, now, I'm sure shewould."
"She would as she once was," replied Frank, bitterly; "but my motherhas been insane for the last five years, and in an asylum. God onlyknows how she came to escape to meet her death to-night."
"Tell me all about it, my boy, tell me all about it," said Hook,familiarly, and in the most sympathizing tones. "If there is any way inthe world to help you, count on me every time."
It was the favorite motto of this famous man that to understand themotive of a criminal it was only necessary to lead him to believe thatyour sympathy lay wholly with himself.
Personally, he fully believed the boy before him to have had a hand inthe bank robbery.
Nor was this strange.
Had he not caught him almost in the act?
If he could, by working upon his feelings in these, the first momentsof his bitter sorrow, bring him to confess, much trouble to himself andmuch expense to the police in working out a troublesome case might thusbe saved.
It was with this end in view that he had adopted this unusual course.
Nor were his efforts unrewarded.
Frank opened his heart without further pressure, and related truthfullyall that had occurred.
One thing only he concealed--the secret of the "Bats in the Wall."
The boys had befriended him in his moment of need.
He was firmly resolved that no amount of pressure should draw fromhim the secret of their hiding-place, which through their kindness tohimself he had learned.
"Upon my word, this is a most remarkable story," exclaimed thedetective, gazing at Frank with a puzzled air as he completed his tale."But you have omitted to tell me how it is that having handcuffed youmyself, and delivered you into the charge of an officer, you managed toescape as you did."
"I can't tell you that, sir," replied the boy, firmly. "It would nothelp you any so far as tracing the bank-robbers are concerned to know."
"You say you met some boys who saw the burglars, who showed you a boxof papers, which they had dropped in their flight, from which you tookthis will of which you have given me so strange an account. Did theseboys have anything to do with your escape?"
"Perhaps they did and perhaps they didn't--they proved my friends, andI shan't give them away."
"That's right, never go back on your friends. Now, then, FrankMansfield, do you know who I am?"
"I know you are a detective."
"So I am. My name is Caleb Hook."
"I've often heard of you," said Frank, regarding him with somecuriosity.
And who has not!
The name of Caleb Hook has for years been the most famous of the NewYork force.
"No doubt," replied that individual, quietly. "But to return to oursubject in which I am becoming more interested every moment. I seedeeper into things than you can expect to, my boy, and let me tell youin what you have related I see evidences of a deep and carefully laidscheme, of which this bank robbery forms only a part. Let me see thatwill you found in the box."
Frank took the document from his pocket and placed it in his hands.
"I've had no time to read it through," he said.
The detective opened the paper, the seals of which had already beenbroken when Frank first found it, and perused it in silence.
"My boy," said he, as he came to the end, "let me tell you that thisdocument is likely to prove of the greatest value to you. In itthe testator--your grandfather, you say he is--relates that he hasconverted all his property, valued at over half a million, into goldand gems and has buried it in a place described in a sealed parchmentwhich ought to accompany this will. All of this is to be yours at theage of twenty-two, under certain conditions; until then the documentis to be secret, and its contents remain unknown. Now, where is thatsealed parchment? That's the question before the house!"
"I'm sure I can't tell," replied Frank, in astonishment. "It may bewith the other papers in the box. Half a million! and all for me! Andwe all thought my grandfather died poor!"
"It is very evident he did
nothing of the sort. JeremiahMansfield--Jeremiah Mansfield--let me see--wasn't that the miserly oldfellow who was murdered in Harlem some five years ago?"
"Yes: his house was entered by burglars in the night. They killed him,and no property except the old house was ever found, although untilthen my father thought him to be rich."
"And it seems he was right," replied Hook, musingly. "Then your fatherwas Francis Mansfield, the foreign importer, who was said--who----"
"They said he stole one hundred thousand dollars of the funds of aEuropean house intrusted to his keeping!" cried Frank, with deeplyflushed face, "but it was false. The money arrived too late fordeposit, father put it over night in his safe. Burglars entered thestore that night, blew up the safe and stole every cent. It killed myfather to be thought a defaulter, drove my mother mad, and ruined usall."
"Just so," answered the detective; "I remember it all perfectly well.It was a sad case, indeed."
For a few moments he remained silently musing, still holding the openpaper in his hand.
"Who is this man Callister?" he asked, at length. "Is it the Wallstreet speculator of that name?"
"Yes. He was my father's best friend."
"And it was he whom you saw coming out of that alley with the other manthat Jerry Buck, the newsboy, told you was one of the burglars?"
"Yes, I'm sure of it. I know him too well to make a mistake."
"And I know him, too," muttered Hook, "and I propose to know himbetter by and by. You observe that he is one of the witnesses to yourgrandfather's will!" he added, aloud.
"Yes."
"Now, Frank, let me tell you something you don't know, but might haveknown if you had taken the trouble to read this document carefully.Listen to this clause in your grandfather's will, which has a mostimportant bearing on this case:
"'And if, at the age of twenty-two, my grandson, the said FrankMansfield, shall be found to be honest and upright, and in every way areputable member of society, the sealed parchment, together with theburied treasure which it represents, which I deem unsafe, in these daysof fraud, to intrust to the keeping of any bank, shall be delivered tohim, and shall become his sole property by virtue of this my last will.If, however, the said Frank Mansfield shall have become deceased, orif he shall have been at any time proven guilty of any unlawful act,then this, my last will and testament, together with the accompanyingparchment and the buried treasure it represents, shall be given to mygood friend, Elijah Callister, of the City of New York, to become hissole property, under the provisions of this will.'"
"And knowing this, Mr. Callister tried to have me convicted of crime!"cried Frank, springing to his feet in great excitement. "Can it bepossible that the man is so base?"
"Young man, it looks tremendously like it," said Caleb Hook, decidedly,folding up the will and putting it in his own pocket.
"You tell me that Cutts led you into this affair--and I want you tounderstand for what you proposed to do you are most decidedly toblame--that he agreed to pay these boys, Ed Wilson and Jim Morrow,who, according to the story told by them to that boy Barney, haveundoubtedly left already in the early morning train for California,where, had the plot succeeded, they could never have been reached toprove your innocence, even had they been so disposed.
"Now, if Cutts paid them--and Cutts is crooked, if he is a detective;I've known that this long while--the question is who was to pay Cutts?My answer would be this man Callister, whose direct interest it is tohave you convicted of crime."
"Mr. Hook," exclaimed the boy, lost in astonishment, "I am completelybewildered. What would you advise me to do?"
"To place yourself in my hands, if you will," answered the detective,decidedly. "I will take up your case if you wish me to do so, for it isjust the sort of an affair I like.
"I now fully believe your story, my boy, and shall not place you underarrest. In working for your interests I shall also be doing my duty inunearthing the robbers of the Webster Bank."
"Of course I shall be only too glad of your help," said Frank, eagerly."I have been foolish--I see it now. Whatever you say I'll do."
"Then, inasmuch as you have mysteriously disappeared, remain so. I'vereported your disappearance to the police; let it be your care not toreappear until I say the word.
"Disguise yourself, watch Callister, see your bootblacks and newsboys,and procure from them the tin box and all it contains. I will do foryour unfortunate mother all that can be done. When you want money cometo me. We will work together, Frank, and as I don't work for nothing,you can repay me when you come into your own."
"I can never repay you, sir!" cried the boy, with tears in his eyes,grasping the detective's outstretched hand.
"Yes, you can, and I'm sure you will. Here are a few dollars now. Whenyou need it you shall have more. Now go, and don't be seen in thestreets so dressed that any one will recognize you again. You can meetme--let me see--I've got to go out of town this afternoon on importantbusiness, and won't return until late to-night. Meet me where I saw youfirst--on the corner of Rector street and Broadway--to-night, as theclock of old Trinity strikes twelve."