Читать книгу The Bradys and the Opium Dens; or Trapping the Crooks of Chinatown - Francis Worcester Doughty - Страница 5

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Both Old and Young King Brady were instantly attracted by the Italian count across the street.

Neither had ever seen him before.

But from the description given Old King Brady was ready to swear that he was no other than Baretti.

Old King Brady quickly noted the house from which Baretti emerged.

Then the detectives proceeded to follow the Italian.

He walked out to the Bowery.

Here he took an up-town car. The detectives also boarded it.

The Italian looked serene and composed. In fact he was the last person in the world to be selected as an abductor and a swindler.

But that he was such the detectives seemed to feel sure.

Of course the detectives wondered much where he was going and what was his errand.

They, however, took care to keep well out of his sight on the forward platform of the car.

At Fourteenth street Baretti alighted.

He walked along until he reached the entrance to the Academy Billiard Parlors. Then he entered the place.

The detectives leisurely sauntered in behind the count.

Baretti strolled to the far end of the room and sat down in a chair. Some men were playing pool at a table close by.

The Italian lit a cigar and seemed to give himself up to a contemplation of the game.

“What is up?” whispered Harry.

“It looks like an appointment,” said Old King Brady.

“An appointment?”

“Yes.”

“With whom?”

“We shall see.”

“Then you think Baretti has accomplices?” asked Harry.

“Anything is possible. Straws show which way the wind blows. At present we are obliged to rely upon the evidence of straws.”

The two Bradys, to avoid exciting the suspicion of their bird, now called for a table and indulged in a game of billiards.

For three-quarters of an hour Baretti sat leisurely in his chair, smoking, and watched them play.

Then suddenly the long-looked-for development transpired.

Old King Brady’s theory was verified.

Into the place came a man of peculiar appearance.

He was short and thick-set and dressed in shabby clothes.

But his features were of an unusual cast. His face had the queer appearance of being broader than it was long.

His nose was low at the bridge and his eyes small and ferret-like, his chin sharp and projecting, and his forehead broad and bulging.

He recognized the count, who at once sprang up and in a voice audible to the detectives exclaimed:

“Ah! Uriah Swift, you have come. I have waited long for you.”

“I was detained, Baretti,” said Swift in an oily voice. “But I am here now and ready for business.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

Then the two arch villains, for such the detectives believed them to be, walked out of the place.

Harry speedily followed them, while Old King Brady paid the bill.

The detectives shadowed their birds along Fourteenth street to Broadway.

Here the two villains entered a Central Park car.

The detectives got on the front platform. They were not noticed by the villains, who were engaged in earnest conversation.

At Fifty-ninth street all left the car. Swift and the count crossed the street and entered the park.

The Bradys shadowed them skillfully, wondering what all this meant.

Into by-paths the two plotters, for such the detectives believed they were, made their way.

After some time they reached a little arbor back of a huge ledge and near a roadway.

Here they sat down.

The detectives cautiously crept around to the summit of the ledge, and from whence every word uttered came readily to their ears.

And what they heard was a revelation.

Swift was speaking:

“I think the relatives will pay a big ransom for the old man,” he declared. “It would be my advice to accept it.”

“And mine also,” declared Baretti. “But it’s of no use to talk to Andrew Emerson on that score.”

“He is a fool!”

“So I think.”

“Women are all right enough in their place, but there is no use in making a fool of one’s self over them.”

“Just so.”

“Now here is a chance to make a heap of money. We can get a good sum for the safe return of the old man.”

“Of course.”

“I say, take it, and let the girl alone.”

“Emerson won’t agree to it. He is dead in love with the girl.”

“She won’t marry him.”

“No, but his game is to decoy her into Sam Wah’s place and dose her with opium. He believes that in that way he can bring her to terms.”

“Well, he’ll burn his fingers, and you can bet he will.”

“Of course he will.”

“I’ll propose that we take our share of the money and let him go along with his game. I’m out of it.”

“The same here.”

The detectives had listened to all this with thrilling interest.

The conclusions to be gained were easy enough to understand.

There was a female in the case.

From what the detectives had gathered, she was the daughter of the missing man, and that one Andrew Emerson was conspiring in her abduction.

Their whole being revolted at the thought of anything so villainous.

But they did not precipitate matters as yet by attempting the arrest of Swift and Baretti.

The time had not yet arrived for action so summary. They believed that more would be gained by waiting and watching.

So they held their place on the ledge.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps was heard.

Then a man came along the walk to the arbor. He was tall and well dressed and bore the stamp of a man of the world.

Instantly Baretti and Swift leaped up. Their manner changed.

“Hello, Emerson!” cried Swift. “You are behind time.”

The detectives focussed their gaze upon Emerson.

“Am I?” he exclaimed, with a grin. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“We have been here nearly twenty minutes,” declared Baretti, “and my time, as you know, is valuable.”

“Ah! Well, I am sorry,” said Emerson. “But to tell you the truth, I have been a busy man.”

“What have you been busy about?”

“Trapping the dove.”

Both Baretti and Swift exchanged glances.

“Well, I think you’re a fool, Andy,” said Swift, slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s plenty of money for us in this job. To risk losing it is folly.”

“Am I taking such a risk?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“By fooling with this girl. What do you want to risk your neck for her for? I tell you there’s no luck in it!”

Emerson’s face clouded. His eyes gleamed with a sullen light.

“I believe I know my business,” he said stiffly. “As long as you get your share you can’t kick.”

“What is our share?”

“The money.”

“And you?”

“I’ll take the girl.”

“Well,” said Baretti, with better grace, “I can’t say that I admire your taste, but I am sure we are getting the best end of the bargain. We will stand.”

“Then let that end the croaking.”

“It does.”

“Now to business. How is the bird?”

“All safe.”

“Have you just come from there?”

“Yes.”

“You think Sam Wah can be trusted?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Now I have to tell you that all plans are laid for the safe transportation of the girl to the city. No one suspects the job.”

“Well, everything is all ready below.”

“By the way, I have heard a report.”

“Ah! What is it?”

“Two noted detectives are on our track.”

“The Bradys!”

“Old and Young King Brady?” gasped Baretti. “Par-dieu! that is bad. We shall have to watch ourselves.”

“Bah!” said Emerson, with a cruel smile. “I have heard a good deal about the Bradys. Some people are mortally afraid of them.”

“They always succeed.”

“Well, curse them, let this be their Waterloo then! They are up against a hard gang.”

Baretti and Swift applauded this.

“You are right they are!” cried the Italian. “It will be worth a victor’s crown to the man who trips them up forever. Men in our line will feel safer.”

“Well, it is our fault if we do not do so.”

“Death to the Bradys!”

The detectives exchanged glances and smiled.

It was certain that this blood-curdling declaration did not frighten them in the least.

“Well,” said Baretti, finally, “I’ll tell Sam Wah then that you are all ready to bring the girl in.”

“Yes—perhaps to-night.”

“As soon as that?”

“I think so. I may as well tell you the truth. She is already in the outskirts of the city. I have only to take her down to the den.”

“Whew!” cried Baretti. “You are immediate in your methods, Emerson. You don’t mean to take any chances.”

“You bet I don’t! I’m up for a winner. Hello!”

A bit of gravel inadvertently started by Harry leaning too far over the verge rattled down and struck the ground at the villain’s feet.

He glanced up.

The Bradys tried to shrink back.

But they were too late.

Seeing that they were discovered, Old King Brady threw off the mask and made quick and startling action.