Quintus Oakes: A Detective Story

  _CHAPTER IV_

  _The Departure_

  Next morning, while at breakfast, I received a letter from Mandel &Sturgeon which was satisfactory to me, and I went down to my office andnotified my partner, Hart, that I was about to take a vacation.

  Fortunately, we had just successfully finished a long legal fight in thecourts, and my excuse was a natural one.

  I then went out and bought a good revolver, such as Oakes had told me toget when we discussed details the night before. He had insisted upon ourbeing armed all alike, and furnished with the same kind of cartridges.We could then exchange weapons in an emergency, and still be suppliedwith ammunition.

  Having completed my purchase, I went to the Club, where Oakes wasawaiting me. We lunched together, and during the conversation he told meto express my baggage to the Mansion that afternoon, and to meet him atthe Central Station at eight o'clock P.M.

  "And be cautious in your movements," he said. "Here is your ticket. Wearserviceable clothes and a heavy dark overcoat, such as you had on lastnight, with a black Fedora hat. Don't notice me, but enter the same caras I do on the train. I will contrive to be with you before we arrive atour destination."

  "Why all this?" I asked.

  "Well, I wish to be able to identify you easily in a crowd. If I knowhow you are dressed, it might be valuable in several other ways also. Wemay have to change our plans, in which event it will be easier for me ifI know how you look."

  "I do not exactly understand," said I, "but I presume you do."

  "Precisely. You may learn in time."

  As we emerged from the Club a newsboy came up to Oakes, from whom hebought a paper, and as he did so, the boy said:

  "Martin says you are followed, sir."

  Oakes turned to me: "Meet me as I said; and do as I do afterwards ineverything. I shall be forced to change my plans."

  The boy had gone after another customer, and Oakes continued: "Martin ismy aide; he has posted me. Good-by! See you later. Explain some othertime."

  We parted, and I went about my preparations for departure with thatexhilaration that men feel when about to enter into some strangeundertaking. It was to be a novel experience for me, and I franklyconfess that certain misgivings haunted me. That I was entering,willingly, to be sure, upon a journey of many possibilities I did notfor one moment doubt; that I should need the weapon already purchased,and the utmost coolness that I could muster, seemed to me more thanlikely. At this date I felt nothing akin to fear, and the knowledge thatQuintus Oakes was to be our leader prevented a too serious estimate ofthe possible consequences.

  Later on I did feel some regrets at having hurled myself into theepisodes that followed, but this feeling vanished soon in the excitementof the events that transpired at Mona.

  Shortly before the appointed time I arrived at the station and strolledabout the rotunda in search of Oakes.

  I espied him at the paper stand, dressed in a dark heavy overcoat and ahat like mine. His recognition of me was instantaneous, but he made nomovement until, after buying a paper, he walked past me to the door.

  Looking at me with a glance that warned me, he stepped out and into acar that was approaching. I jumped on the same car, and in a very fewmoments he and I were going up the Sixth Avenue Elevated stairway, butacting as strangers to one another.

  There were many persons boarding the Harlem train with us. It was atiresome ride to the terminus, but when Oakes and I stepped out and downto the street, he jumped into a carriage in waiting, drawn by a pair ofhorses, and beckoned to me. I stepped in also, and sat by his side onthe back seat.

  The driver started at a quick pace across the bridge and into JeromeAvenue.

  Oakes turned to me: "It seems that my movements are watched by men in arival agency. I have detected no followers, but time will tell if theyexist. I saw a fellow watching me at the station, and we may have easilybeen followed on the elevated train; in such a crowd one cannot detect."

  "Why do they watch you, Mr. Oakes? Are they suspicious that we are goingto Mona?"

  "No, not at all," answered Oakes. "They are watching to see _where_ I amgoing. You see," he continued, "I am working on several other cases, andperhaps they are, too. You realize there are times when men of myprofession cross each other's paths, and it is advantageous to know whatthe other fellow is doing."

  "I see. Keeping tab on one another!" I said. "Rather expensive work, isit not?"

  Oakes smiled. "Yes, but it is business. I like to know when a rivalleaves town. I keep a pretty close watch myself on some of them."

  We drove rapidly, and soon pulled up at an out-of-the-way roadhouse.

  "Come," said Oakes, alighting.

  A portly German was behind the bar, evidently the proprietor.

  Oakes made a sudden movement of his hand, and the door was locked. Wetwo were then shown into a rear room where two other men wereseated--both tall, well-built fellows, and both dressed as we were, indark overcoats and black Fedora hats.

  They saluted Oakes, and after a word or two stepped into the bar-room,where the German served them with drinks. In a minute they were in ourcarriage and driving away toward Yonkers.

  "I see now why you were particular as to my dress."

  "Yes, a substitution like this is useful sometimes. I thought I might beforced to make one. Much better than nonsensical disguises. We will soonknow if any one is coming after us," he continued. "This is really thelast place before the fork of the road, and anyone following us wouldhave to be in sight all the time, or else stop here for information."

  The proprietor motioned us upstairs to a front room, and Oakes said tohim: "Remember, we have gone to Yonkers." But the good-natured Germanevidently knew his business, for he only smiled and went off mutteringsomething to himself about a "damned good mix-up."

  In a few minutes two men drew up in a buggy, and were admitted below bythe obsequious old fellow.

  Then we heard the question: "Have you seen two tall gentlemen in blackcoats and soft hats hereabouts, Dutchy?"

  The German thought a moment: "Yah, yah; dare vas two big fellers justhere; dey vas took some viskey and got away quick."

  "Which way?" asked the men.

  "Dey vas gone up dar Yonkers Road."

  Oakes chuckled. "The old fellow is all right; an old friend of mine."

  Then we heard the men say: "Here, Dutchy, here's something for you," andwe knew they had given him a tip.

  In a moment they were gone, and the old fellow was to be heard chucklingaudibly to himself: "Five dollar for von great big mix-up."

  Oakes watched the team turn up the Yonkers Road after our decoy, andthen he said:

  "Come, Stone, move quickly." He led the way downstairs to the backentrance, and to the stable, where we found a man with a team. Hesaluted us. It was the carriage in which Oakes's men had come out.

  "Drive hard for the Harlem Station; we can catch the 10:30 train," wasthe order.

  Our driver evidently knew what to do, and we soon passed out of thecarriage-way.

  At the side of the door we halted a moment, and I saw Oakes give theGerman a twenty-dollar bill.

  "Remember," he said, "not a word."

  We caught our train after a long drive to the east, and back over theHarlem River. When we seated ourselves in the sleeper, Oakes turned tome quietly. "Please remember, Stone, that you are a possible buyer, andthat I am Charles Clark, agent for the owner of the Mark Mansion. Wehave had a pleasant evening together so far, have we not?"

  He smiled in his quiet, unruffled manner as he spoke.

  "Yes--rather active," I said. "I presume those other fellows arethinking so too, probably."

  "Only the last two," said Oakes; "my men are home by this time."

  Shortly after midnight we arrived at the station at the foot of the hillwhich hid the beautiful town of Mona.

  "Keep your senses alert," said Oakes as we left the train, "for we arenow in the region of uncertainty. We had better not walk to the hotel,although it is onl
y about a mile. The hour is too late."

  The solitary hackman, seeing us approach, roused himself from his sleepylethargy and soon we were slowly ascending the hill. The well-kept roadwas lighted here and there by electricity, an agreeable witness to thecivilization around us.

  I saw Oakes place his weapon in his outside overcoat pocket--as he said,the most convenient place for it to rest, clad as we were.

  The action was a vivid reminder of the experiences of his last visit,and of the caution of the man.

  Without further adventure of any kind we arrived at the little hotel,with its sleepy night clerk and its gloomy office. This opened right onthe sidewalk by means of a large wooden door, hung a low step above thepavement, and fitting so poorly in its frame that the rays of the lightfrom within sought exit beneath it.