Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net OLD SLEUTH'S SPECIAL DETECTIVE SERIES. PRICE, 25 CENTS. OSCAR THE DETECTIVE. By "OLD SLEUTH." [Illustration: THE DETECTIVE CAUGHT] OSCAR THE DETECTIVE OR, DUDIE DUNNE, THE EXQUISITE DETECTIVE. An Odd but Stirring Detective Narrative. By OLD SLEUTH. Copyright, 1895, by Parlor Car Publishing Company. All Rights Reserved. NEW YORK: J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 57 ROSE STREET. DUDIE DUNNE, THE EXQUISITE DETECTIVE. BY OLD SLEUTH. CHAPTER I. DUDIE DUNNE PLAYS A GREAT TRICK TO RUN DOWN A CRIMINAL--AS SIMPLE JOHN HE APPEARS INNOCENT, BUT WHEN HIS MASK GOES OFF THE "FUR FLIES." "Oh, fellers, look at this! he's strayed or stolen; let's go for him." A group of little toughs were gathered at a street corner in a low locality in the city of New York when a dude of the first water with the regular Anglo step and exquisite airs walked leisurely down the street peering through his single eyeglass at the surrounding tenements. He was a splendid specimen in appearance of the dudie sweet, and the moment the eyes of the gamins fell upon him they saw a chance for fun. It was at first intended as a raid for fun, but in the end it became plunder. The dude walked along until he arrived opposite the spot where the boys were gathered, where they lay like little Indians in ambush ready to leap forth to slaughter. The dude stopped short, gazed at them with a smile which was all simplicity and asked: "Can you boys tell me where Maggie's aunt lives around here? Tell me and I'll give you a cent apiece." "Here!" said one of the boys, and a second queried: "What is it?" "Where did this thing drop from?" "Well, ain't he a sweetie!" "Oh, dear boys, I am so weary. I've been looking for Maggie's aunt. She lives somewhere down here. Maggie is our cook and she is under the weather--yes, very much under the weather--and I agreed to notify her aunt, but hang me if I can find her aunt. I don't know her aunt's name; I forgot to ask her what her dear aunt's name is, and all I know is that she lives down this way somewhere, and she is Maggie's aunt. If you lads will take me to her I will give you a penny apiece--I will, yes--I am in earnest--hee, hee, hee!" The laugh was something to hear, and the lads, all in chorus, imitated the simpleton's laugh with a "hee, hee, hee!" which sounded very ridiculous, and the dude said: "Oh, you rude boys, I really believe you are mocking me--yes, I do. Now don't be naughty, but come and show me where Maggie's aunt lives--hee, hee, hee!" Again the lads in chorus "hee, hee, hee-d." "Boys, what have we struck?" came the question. "Now don't be rude, boys, don't be rude, or I will chastise you--yes, I will chastise you. I don't want to do so, but you may compel me to chastise you." The boys just roared at this threat, and one of them stealing behind the dude gave him a "thumper" with his toe where the exquisite's pants were drawn the tightest under his long coat. "Oh, oh, you wicked boy! What do you mean? Stop, I say, stop, or I'll call the police, yes, I will." "Say, Dudie, there are no police around here; we slaughtered and burned 'em all last month; you'll find their graves down under the rocks there, so don't holler." As the spokesman uttered the words quoted he let drive and knocked off the dude's hat, which one of the gang immediately appropriated, and then the onslaught commenced. They just tore at the poor dude as a wolf tears at a carcass, and in less time than it takes to tell it they had stripped the poor fellow. One had put on the long coat and commenced to walk English style, another donned the robbed man's hat, a second secured the eyeglass, a third his undercoat, a fourth his nobby vest, and so they stripped him of all his outside apparel, assumed it themselves, and then the circus commenced. They just paraded around their poor victim, imitating in a grotesque manner all the airs of a genuine dudie sweet. Two or three rough-looking men were standing at the door of a low groggery opposite and they enjoyed the fun and laughed as merrily as the boys who were conducting the affair. "What have we struck?" the lads kept repeating, and the dude stood denuded to his shirt and trousers, appealing to the lads to restore his wardrobe, and his appeals were pitiable to hear. "Oh, boys, you good boys, now you've had lots of fun, but dear me, I'll freeze--yes, it's an awful good joke--hee, hee, hee--but I'll freeze, and to think, boys, how I look! Why, I'll become a laughing-stock, but it's an awful good joke--yes, I've enjoyed it; we've had lots of fun--hee, hee, hee--but now restore my clothing, please do." The boys instead of returning the dude's clothes began to maltreat him. They kicked and cuffed him around until one of the men walked over and said: "Here, you rascals, stop this now." Another of the men came, and they seized the lads one after the other, took the stolen clothes away from them and restored the goods to their rightful owner. Well, this may appear very nice on the part of the men, but the sequel will show that they were actuated entirely by selfish motives. They discerned that the dude might prove good plucking for themselves, and they were very kind and consoling as they assisted him to resume his garments and he said: "Well, we've had lots of fun, the poor dear boys; I did feel as though they went too far and I should punish them, but I hadn't the heart--no, I haven't the heart--I am so tender-hearted. I am almost a woman when it comes to the heart, everybody says so." The men exchanged winks and laughed. It looked to them as very ridiculous--this delicate-looking dude punishing that gang of rough and vigorous gamins. The dude was speedily re-robed and one of the men said: "Let's go over and have a drink." "Thank you, gentlemen, thank you, I am much obliged certainly. We shall have a drink, but I will treat--yes, I will treat. But didn't we have fun! and I am so glad I maintained my temper and did not hurt those poor little boys. It was all play, you know--gentlemen, all play. I enjoyed it very much--yes, very much." "They were getting a little rough," said one of the men. "Yes, but you know I was getting a little rough myself. Really, I hope I didn't hurt any of them. I didn't mean to. I'm very vigorous, for I belong to an athletic club. I dare not trust myself to play rough with men, let alone boys--yes, I didn't dare strike. I didn't want to hurt any of them." "You were very gentle," said one of the men. "I intended to be. Yes, I am as gentle as a lamb unless I am aroused, then I become a lion--everybody says so--yes, I am very ferocious when I get mad, and I have to restrain myself." "I can see you are very powerful. I wouldn't like to provoke you," said the man with a wink to his companions and an unrestrained look of contempt. "I hope you never may. No, I do not like to lose my temper. I become very rough--yes, very rough indeed, my friends all tell me so; but I like fun--yes, I am a thoroughbred, I am, clean through. I gamble, I do--yes, I am a regular sport, and I am so glad I did not hurt any of those boys." "Yes, you were very considerate." "Oh, certainly, I am always considerate--my friends all say so. I am naturally kind and gentle, but terrible when I get aroused--yes, I am just awful; so, gentlemen, don't provoke me in any way." "You can bet we won't provoke you. I tell you I don't want to get it in the eye from one of those mauleys of yours, and get knocked into the middle of next week." "Hee, hee, hee! how observant you are, and now you've really discovered that I am an athlete! Well, I try not to betray the fact--yes, I am very careful to not let people know, and I try to keep my temper. I don't like to get aroused." The men went into the barroom and the dude called for a bottle of wine, and the miserable apology for wine was put on the counter. As the dude pulled forth a big wad of bills to pay for it the eyes of the men glittered and they exchanged winks and looked longingly at the roll of greenbacks. The wine was consumed and the dude ordered segars, and he became quite talkative and drank a glass of whisky that was placed before him. Then he became still more talkative, and all the time he was the dude to perfection and boasted of his powers. "Do you know," he said, "I once had a run in with ----?" The man named was a noted boxer. "How did you come out with him?" "Oh, I was gentle with him--very gentle. He winked and I understood what he meant and let up on him and permitted him to punch me. Yes, it was business with him, you know, and I could have knocked him out before all his pupils, so I just let him punch me." "He is a pretty hard hitter they say." "Oh, no, I didn't mind his blows. He is very active--yes, very active." "Did he bleed you?" "Oh, yes, I let him bleed me a little. I was gentle, you know, and I took a black eye which I carried for a week, and he afterward apologized. Yes, he was very grateful because I was so gentle and let him punch me. I spared him, but when I looked in the glass I told him that next time I'd have to rap back a little." The men all laughed and one of them said: "I reckon he will not tackle you again?" "No, I guess not--hee, hee, hee! I tell you when I threaten a man he looks out--yes, he does--hee, hee, hee!" "I reckon you are a lucky gambler." "You bet I am." "Yes, you educated fellows are always quick in making combinations. I like to play with a good player and learn his 'points.' I am always ready to lose to learn. What do you say for a little game with a light ante?" "Well, now see here, I don't want to rob you gentlemen--you've been so kind to me." "Oh, we don't mind losing a few dollars. You see, we are contractors. We do big jobs for the city; we've plenty of money, only we ain't educated, see, that's all. We've worked our way in the world. We are self-made men." "Well, do you know, I've got the highest regard for self-made men. My daddy was a self-made man. He was a government contractor, and when he died he left my mamma a million, and it will all come to me some day. Yes, I am the lucky only child, I am; but I don't want to rob you gentlemen." "Oh, we've all plenty of money to lose, and it's an honor to play with a real gentleman. We don't always have that privilege, and it's real condescending in you." "Oh, yes, I am very condescending--yes, yes--hee, hee, hee! But really I'd only rob you gentlemen. I call you gentlemen because you are gentlemen. I always judge of a man as I find him, as Bobby Burns bid us do, see--hee, hee, hee!" The party had drank several times and the dude began to show the effect of his drinks. He was a dude as true and genuine as ever lived. "Let's go upstairs and have a quiet game," said the man; "we don't want to play down here where we will be disturbed by every low fellow that comes in. I tell you, gentlemen, we must protect our guest from annoyance--he is so kind as to give us a game and teach us a few points." "Say, gentlemen, I am not aristocratic; I don't put on airs; I'd just as soon play down here." "No, it is much nicer upstairs. We can have a quiet game and take our refreshments," and addressing the bartender the man asked: "Are you putting up the best every time, Sandy?" "Sure, I do; I knows me business, I do; I knows when a gentleman stands in front of the bar." Young reader, this may be a lonely sort of siren play, but it is true to life and should prove a lesson. The men were flattering the dude, and flattery is always based on design and a selfish motive. Beware of the flatterer in the first place. Eschew gambling--if you are only playing for fun it costs as much as though you were playing to make money. It is demoralizing every time, and often leads to greater crime. Gambling is a very dangerous amusement. These men were working the dude, and it is, as we have intimated, an actual incident we are describing. The conversation we reproduce verbatim. They were alluring the young man to rob him, and if the stake had been big enough these birds of prey would willingly have murdered their victim in the end to cover up the lesser crime with the greater, for they were believers in the false logic that "dead men tell no tales." We say false logic, for dead men, though their lips are silent, as a rule--ay, almost always--leave silent testimonies behind that speak for them, and crime is always revealed. The silence of the murdered is a dangerous release, for murder "will out," though, as stated, the lips of the victims are sealed in death. Dudie Dunne played well his part. He did not readily consent to go upstairs. He was playing a great game, playing on novel plans, taking great chances, and for the rascals who were alluring him he had a great surprise in reserve. After much persuasion he consented to go upstairs, but still continued to assure the men that he had no idea of robbing them. "But you will teach us some new points." "You'll have to watch me then, for I am giving nothing away." The men ascended to a room on the second floor, a rear room. The men sat down at a table and Dudie Dunne put on all the airs of a "Smart Alec" to perfection. The game commenced. Our hero was dealer and a winner, and the way he "hee, hee, hee-d," as he raked in his pot was amusing to watch. The game proceeded for fully half an hour when a most startling interruption occurred. CHAPTER II. THE EXQUISITE'S GAME PROVES A WINNING HAND, BUT NOT AT THE CARDS--HE PERFORMS ONE OF THE GREATEST STREAKS OF DETECTIVE WORK TO DATE AND CAPTURES A MAN WHOM FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD HAD FAILED TO FETCH. As intimated, the game had proceeded and our hero was winning and losing, when suddenly the door of the room opened and a man of remarkable appearance entered the room. His entrance was followed by an exhibition as though a ghost had suddenly appeared at the conventional midnight hour and demanded a hand, as he reached forth his rattling joints of bone. The men stared, even our hero for just one instant lost his equipoise, but he recovered when like a wink he asked, as though no one had entered the room: "What do you do?" The men, however, just sat and stared while the intruder said, a pallor on his emaciated face and a glitter in his eyes: "I heard the game going on, boys, and I could not resist--oh, I love a little game at times." "You are not well enough to sit up yet, Mr. Alling." "Oh, yes; I feel better to-day; but whom have we here?" One of the men winked and said: "A friend of ours--one of the four hundred--but he ain't proud. He is a gentleman clean through." The man who had asked the question fixed his glittering eyes on our hero. The dude appeared unconscious of the fact that he was undergoing a study beneath the gaze of a man who could read the human face like a book. As intimated, the man was a very remarkable-looking individual. He was one who would attract attention anywhere, owing to the singular sharp expression on his face. The man appeared to be satisfied with his study, and said, as he sat down to the table: "Give me some cards. Ah, this is just glorious after having lain in a sick bed for a month." The dude, who was studying his cards, did not appear to overhear the newcomer's remark. He had been a loser and seemed absolutely absorbed. The game proceeded and drinks were ordered. The dude got seemingly very drunk. He lost his money--some hundreds of dollars, and his watch, and produced a diamond pin which he lost, and then he appeared to drop off in a maudlin slumber. The man let him snore in his chair and deliberately divided his money among them. Then they dealt for the watch and pin, and finally the question was asked: "What shall we do with him?" "Throw him into the street." "That won't do," said the man who had entered the room at the last moment. "You fellows don't know how to manage these things." "What shall we do?" "Let him sleep. He will sleep until morning--sleep like a top--and then the first thing he will call for will be a drink; give him one, then take him to some other house, fill him up, and leave him one by one. He will forget afterward where he lost his watch and money. At least you fellows can all swear he had his watch and money when you left him. Throw him into the street, and he will be found, dragged in, and in the morning will give the whole business away. That is the way you lads always make a mistake. You don't go slow enough." The men agreed to Alling's plan, and then turning the dude over on the floor, fixed his coat under his head for a pillow and left him, locking him in the room, and there the poor dude lay. One of the men returned in about half an hour, looked the sleeper over and left. Downstairs he told his pals: "He will never wake. I reckon the man is full to the ears. He will sleep until eleven o'clock to-morrow." After the man had glanced into the room the dude most strangely awoke. He drew from his pocket a tiny mask lantern, and he pulled a tiny watch from his pocket, glanced at the time and muttered: "I've got a long wait, but it's all right. I'll have my man." The hours passed. The dude lay upon the floor and actually slept a natural sleep, but after some hours he awoke, glanced at his watch and muttered: "Now it is time to operate." He rose from his coat pillow and put his coat on, fixed himself to go to the street, then deftly opened the door of the room, peeped out and listened. All was still. Indeed it was two o'clock in the morning. The dude passed down the stairs, and through the hall to the street door. He unlocked it as deftly as he had unlocked the room door. He put it just in the swing, then he ascended the stairs and passed to the top floor of the house. He knew just where to go for the purpose he had in hand, for he had overheard a little while he was being robbed at the game of cards. He stopped at the rear room door and listened, then he deftly opened the door and drew from his pocket the tiny mask lantern. He flashed the slenderest of lines of light toward the bed and thereon lay a man. Could one have pierced the darkness at that moment and have seen the face of the dude it would have been a most startling revelation, especially to one who had seen him some hours previously. The dude on tiptoe advanced toward the bed. Quickly he clapped a silken handkerchief to the mouth and nostrils of the sleeping man, and then from the big dude coat he drew a gag and some cords; quickly he proceeded and soon had the man gagged and bound. A moment only he rested, and then the dude, the delicate-looking dude, after having slipped on a few outside garments, raised the bound and gagged man in his arms, handled him as though he had been an unresisting lad of ten or twelve years, and carried him down two pair of stairs to the street door. He stepped forth and walked off with his burden. He met no one until he had traversed several squares, when a policeman accosted him: "Hold on! what have you there--a dead body?" "No, a man pretty thoroughly alive, and I want your aid--he is getting heavy." The dude made an explanation and the policeman aided in carrying the man. He was taken to the station house, where the gag was removed, also the cords, and the man was free. "Who is he, Dunne?" asked the sergeant in charge. The dude whispered a name and the sergeant started back aghast. "How did you pick him up?" "Oh, it's a long tale, but I've got him." Handcuffs were put on the prisoner and, accompanied by two detectives, Detective Dunne started with his man for headquarters. The fellow Alling meantime said, speaking to the supposed dude: "You played it well, but your play will cost your life in the end." "Hush, Jimmy, don't threaten while the darbies are on you; but it will be a long time before you will again enjoy your favorite game." "One word, Dunne." "Go it." "Was I betrayed?" "No." "Those fellows didn't give you the pointers to get a whack at the reward offered on me?" "No." "That is square between a square man and a thief?" "It is the truth." "You swear it?" "I do." "All right, I am to hold you alone responsible for this?" "Yes." "You worked it out yourself?" "I did. Your pals don't know yet you are gone." "Oh, I wish I had suspected." "Do you?" "I do." "Say, Tommy, you make a mistake." "I do?" "Yes." "How?" "You appear to think that all those whom you dislike have to do is to stand up and be shot like deserters. Let me tell you something. Had you recognized me you would have been a dead man, that's all, and it is possible several of your pals might have gone the journey with you. It's better for you and them that you did not recognize me." "The walls won't hold me long." The detective laughed. "When I am out I'll make it my business to settle you before I go back." "Tommy, you surprise me." "Do I?" "Yes." "How?" "I thought you were a gamer man. Game men don't bark; you are barking." "I'll bite; you did me up well; you've had your turn, I'll have mine." "Yes, you'll get your turn. As far as I am concerned I don't care if you get out the day after you are sent up. I may have a chance then to do the state better service." "You're barking now." "No, I am only cautioning you, that's all. Tommy, I don't fear you." A little later the party arrived at headquarters and the prisoner was turned over--one of the most dangerous rogues New York had known for a long time. The fellow had led a gang into a bank, had almost killed the watchman, had stolen over a hundred thousand dollars in money, and at least two hundred thousand more in negotiable securities, and he was a dangerous chap, and one of the most successful eluders the police had ever attempted to run down. Dudie Dunne had performed a great feat and yet he was to secure no public credit for it, for he was a secret special, and never in all his experience had he performed a deed that better earned him his right to be on the secret special force. "How about the 'swag,' Dunne?" "I don't expect to get it; but I am going back to look around." "Better take some one with you." "Not to-night--no, no." Dunne returned to the place from which he had yanked his man. He entered by the door which he had left on the swing for the purpose of a second visit. Dunne ascended to the room from which he had carried his prize, and he commenced a search, and no burglar ever moved with greater noiselessness or ease. He was busy fully half an hour, going around with his tiny mask lantern, and finally there came a pleased look to his face. He drew a few instruments from his pocket and set to work, and soon he had removed several bricks from the chimney piece, and finding an aperture thrust in his hand and drew forth some bonds. He recovered all the securities, and about half the cash in bills of large denomination, and having completed his work he stole down the stairs and returned to headquarters, made his report and went off to his room for a few hours of genuine restful sleep. On the morning following the incidents we have described the gang who had robbed him on the previous day assembled in the barroom. It was about eight o'clock, and as the last two came in they asked the man who was there ahead of them: "Have you been up to take a peep?" "No." The men all laughed and one said: "So you've heard nothing from our sweet little dude, eh?" "No." "Let's go up and take a peep at him and have a little fun; we will stand a heap of 'guying' when he awakes with his roaring headache." The men with cheerful faces ascended the stairs. They opened the door and peeped in; the first man started back, his face pale, and he exclaimed: "Great Scott!" "What's the matter?" "He's gone." "Gone!" ejaculated the other two. "Gone, as sure as guns, and rain storms." The men passed into the room, then they all laughed. The fools had not noticed until they commenced to laugh that they had found the door open. They really enjoyed the surprise for a moment until one of them suddenly appeared to fall to a suspicion. "Hold on, fellows," he cried, "maybe we are laughing too soon. I don't understand this; come to think, if that chappie got out of here he wasn't as big a fool as we thought him." "Oh, come off." "I think we'd better go up and see Tommy--hear what he has to say." The three men ascended to the room where the dude had gone for his game. They found that door open; they peeped in and Tommy was gone. He had disappeared, and they saw the opening where the "swag" had been secured. They looked into each other's faces and one of them said: "This begins to look serious." They descended to the barroom. The owner of the place had just appeared. "Where is Tommy?" they demanded. "Up in his room, of course." "Is he?" "Yes." "Do you think he's there?" "He is there." "He is not." "What?" "He is not there." "Where is he?" "By all that's strange and miraculous, boys," cried the man who had first shot forth a suspicion, "we have been played. The dude was a 'copper,' and poor Tommy is in harbor at last." The men sent out and got a paper, and the first headline that met their eyes was: "A Great Capture--Tom ----, the Worst Thief and Most Dangerous Bank Robber New York has Harbored for Many Years was Captured Last Night by a very Clever Piece of Detective Strategy and is Now at Police Headquarters." The men trembled and one asked: "What will we do?" Another answered: "I don't think the climate of New York agrees with me at this season of the year." The others came to the same conclusion, and one said: "We're in luck if we get away, but there is no time to lose." The three men quietly glided from the saloon with countenances on which was written all evidences of terror. CHAPTER III. A FEW WORDS AS TO THE REAL IDENTITY OF DUDIE DUNNE--THE DETECTIVE STARTS OUT ON A FRESH "LAY," AND AS A CHAPPIE SWEET CLOSES IN ON COMRADE NUMBER TWO. There was nothing noteworthy in the career of Dudie or rather Oscar Dunne up to the time he entered upon the police force beyond the fact that he was of a very remarkable physical make-up. He was a young man possessed of very delicate features, girlish blue eyes and a clear red and white complexion. He was what is called a very effeminate-looking young man. We have seen others like him. We have previously alluded in this connection to two very striking examples similar to the case of Dudie Dunne, many years ago in New York. There were two men, both famous as athletes; one of them was noted as one of the most desperate rough-and-ready fighters in the city. He was a colonel in the late war, afterward a member of congress, and noted for his physical strength and daring, while he looked like a woman in the face, so delicate were his features, and so soft and fair his complexion. The other man was a notorious ring fighter, and he too possessed the same delicacy of feature and complexion, and yet was a man of wonderful physical strength. So with Oscar Dunne. He was pretty when a child and when a youth, and the boys nicknamed him Girlie Dunne, and yet he outstripped all his boy companions in feats of strength and athletic performances. He was educated in the public schools of New York, and when quite young received an appointment as clerk to one of the city departments, and it was while acting in that capacity that he was led upon one occasion to attempt the running down of a notorious criminal. He tracked his man, had a desperate encounter with him, and captured him. This feat attracted attention toward him and one day a well-known detective remarked: "Oscar, if I had your face and strength and nerve I'd become the greatest detective on earth." Oscar brooded over the remark and later on secured a position on the regular police with a view to being promoted to the detective force, and his powers soon won him his promotion, and his services as a detective became so valuable, and his advantages as a detective became so marked, he was soon raised to the position of a secret special. It was just following his last promotion that he made the great capture we have recorded. It was about a month following the incidents detailed when one day the chief sent for him and said: "Oscar, I've a peculiar case for you. A great robbery was committed in Rome, Italy. Some very valuable heirlooms were stolen, besides a large collection of gems of great value. A large reward is offered for the thief, and it is believed by the Roman officers that the man is in New York." "Did they send over a description?" "No, they do not suspect any one man. All they suspect is that the thief fled from Rome and is in New York." Oscar Dunne smiled as he remarked: "A man must start on nothing in this case." "That is about the size of it." "They don't know whether the man is an Italian or not?" "No, but they do know that he is a desperate fellow. He killed one of the servants in the house at the time he committed the robbery. They believe he is an Italian." "Have you a photograph of any members of the family that was robbed?" "No." "Nor a photograph of the servant who was murdered." "No." Oscar was thoughtful a moment and then said: "Chief, a man who is blindfolded in a dark room can't see a crack in the wall." "Hardly." "There are thousands upon thousands of Italians in New York." "Yes." "And many of them are hard characters--desperate fellows." "You are right. But there are a great many excellent Italians in New York--men of the highest character and integrity." "I know that." "They will aid you." "How can they aid me? Italy is a very big country. I'd look foolish merely to tell them that a robbery had been committed in Rome and that I wanted to find out something about it." "What do you want?" "I want something to start on." "The Roman police have given us all they can." "They haven't given us anything." "Then you think it's no use to start in?" "I didn't say so. If the man is in New York I'll find him, but I must have something to work on." "I don't know what I can give you." "I want a photograph of every member of the family that was robbed. I want a photograph of the servant that was killed, and then I want certain questions answered direct from the family." "We will have to send to Italy." "Good enough. I will prepare my questions at once. You can send to Rome for what I want, and in the meantime I will be looking around. It will take about three weeks or a month for us to get a return from Rome. By that time I may have something to start out on, at least a subject for the working of the plan I may form after I hear from Rome." "I see your point, Oscar; it's well taken." Dudie Dunne prepared the questions he wished answered and started out for a little tour of observation. He was gotten up as the dude, but he had half a dozen different types of the dude with which he alternated in getting up his disguise. He also was able when occasion required to work the female racket as a cover beyond any other man who had ever attempted the role. There was one feature of Dudie Dunne's disguises. He acted the character he assumed. He never lost his head or forgot himself, and going around as he did under the guise of one of the most harmless of mortals, he had excellent chances for getting information. Under the fleece of the lamb was the hide of the lion, and there was just where he came in when the crisis was presented. Oscar was standing on the corner of a street waiting for a car to pass when he saw a man suddenly leap off the car, and immediately afterward an old lady ran out to the platform screaming, "Stop thief! stop thief!" The conductor did not even stop the car, but Dudie was at hand. He made a leap forward, only a leap, for the thief ran close to him, and he seized the rascal, when immediately a second man who had jumped off the car ran up while Oscar was struggling with the thief. The second man proved a confederate of the first, and he grabbed hold of Oscar. There was no policeman near, but a crowd had gathered and the people merely looked on, not understanding the cause of the struggle. They thought it was great fun, and one of the crowd created a laugh by yelling: "Hang on to him, chappie; hang on to him." Well, he did not hang on to him--he did better. Thief number two had hauled off to deal Oscar a tremendous blow. He was a large man and appeared to possess great strength, but to the surprise of everybody, chappie, as the crowd had dubbed our hero, let go the man he had been holding just in time to dodge a blow aimed at his head, and he countered with a stinger which sent his assailant staggering to the street. He then as quick as a wink, to the amazement of the crowd, dealt the man he had first seized a sockdologer and down he went, and at the same instant the old lady arrived on the scene. She had beheld the capture and saw the thief knocked out. The crowd cheered at the powers of chappie when the truth went flying around that the two men whom the chappie downed were pickpockets, and that the old lady was their victim. Our hero followed his man and took from him quick as lightning the purse which the thief had slid to his bosom. This he handed to the old lady, who quickly disappeared, and at the same instant a policeman arrived. The thief was a quickwitted fellow and he said: "Arrest that man. He just robbed an old lady of her pocketbook." Oscar did appear most like a thief and the policeman seized him. "Hold on, officer, there's your man," said Oscar, pointing to the retreating thief. "Oh, you can't play that on me," said the officer, and he commenced without further inquiry to cuff his prisoner over the head in a very rough manner, when suddenly the dude wrested himself clear and let the officer have one on the ear, and then the crowd laughed and jeered as the cop went reeling. Another officer arrived on the field. He also happened to be a fresh Alec. He didn't stop to ask a question but drew his club and made a rush at the supposed thief; the latter had no time to make an explanation. It was take a knock on the head or fight. He decided to fight and explain afterward, so he let "copper" number two have one, and it did appear marvelous, the ease with which he dropped the knights of the brass buttons. Cop number one had regained his feet, and drawing his club was about to make a rush, when Oscar threw back the lapel of his coat, and the officer's eyes rested on a little silver badge that caused him to recoil as though he had been confronted by a ghost. Both policemen fell to their blunder and the detective said: "Go and hunt up your right men now and don't be so fast next time." Assuming his chappie walk our hero ambled away. On the following morning there appeared an account in the papers, telling how a detective, very smartly dressed, had knocked out and captured two pickpockets when a policeman came along and mistaking the detective for the thief permitted the real thief to depart. A day or two passed when our hero, who made a daily practice to look over the personals in all the journals, saw a little advertisement which read as follows: "If the detective who recovered an old lady's pocketbook will send his address to Mrs. I. F., Station B, he will hear of something to his advantage." "Well," ejaculated the officer, "that means me. Now let us see--what shall we do?" It did not take the detective very long to decide upon his course. He wrote the letter, and proceeding to Station B, mailed it, then he lay around for several hours until he saw a very nice-looking young lady call and ask for a letter addressed to "I. F." The letter was delivered and the girl started off with the detective on her track. He trailed her to an old-fashioned house in a very excellent neighborhood. The girl meantime entered the house and delivered the letter to an old lady--the same old lady who had been robbed. The latter said, as the girl entered the room to the left of the hall: "What! you have an answer already?" "Yes, aunty." The old woman took the letter, opened it and read: "MADAM: I saw your advertisement. I will call upon you. When a card is presented with the name of the undersigned you will know it is the detective. "Yours, "OSCAR DUNNE." "Well, I declare," exclaimed the old lady; "he will call on us." "But how will he know where to call, aunty; you did not give your address in the advertisement." "That is so. I had forgotten that. Why, how will he know where to call. I fear I have made a mistake. A man who is as big a dunce as that can be of no service to us." "But wait, aunty, these men sometimes have dark and mysterious ways of their own for finding out facts. Let's wait and see if he does call." Even as the girl spoke there came a ring at the door bell, and a few minutes later a servant presented a card on which was the name, "Oscar Dunne." "Why, Alice, he is here; it's wonderful." "Will you see him?" "Yes." "Alone?" "Yes, retire, my child." The niece retired and a few moments later Oscar was ushered into the old lady's presence. CHAPTER IV. DUDIE DUNNE LISTENS TO A STRANGE STORY AND ENTERS UPON A TRAIL THAT LEADS TO MANY VERY STARTLING ADVENTURES. "I am surprised to see you here." "Is that so, madam?" "Yes." "Why should you be when you expressed a desire to see me?" "When did I express such a desire?" "The desire was implied in your advertisement." "But I did not put my address in the advertisement. How did you establish my identity?" The detective smiled and said: "It was a very simple matter, madam." "I do not understand it." "I will explain." "Please do." "We detectives are compelled to be very careful in all our movements. We have enemies who are constantly seeking to trap us." "What has all that to do with the fact that you knew my address?" "I read your advertisement." "Yes." "I did not know whether it was genuine or a decoy sent out by the thieves who robbed you." "But even that does not explain how you obtained my address." "By a very simple plan, madam." "Tell me your plan." "I mailed the letter to you." "Yes." "I knew you would send a messenger for it." "Certainly." "I lay around the post office for your messenger. When she came I followed her here." "Oh, I see; well, how stupid I am. It is evident I am not a female detective. I never should have thought of that expedient." "It is a very simple one. If it had been a trap the parties sending the letter would have taken precautions not to be trapped that way." "I see, yes, I see; well, you are not a dunce after all." "Thank you. You wished to see me?" "Yes." "Madam, what is your name, please?" "My name is Mrs. Frewen." "Who is the young lady who called for the answer to the advertisement?" "My niece." "And her name?" "Alice Frewen. She is my brother's daughter. She is an orphan." "You wished to see me on business?" "Yes." "Why did you send for me?" "I will tell you. I read in the papers that you were a detective. I saw your bold act in catching the thief who had robbed me, and a little incident occurred that suggested to me that I had better consult with a detective. I had beheld your gallant action and my niece suggested the plan of the advertisement for your employment." "Very well, madam; on what business do you desire to consult me about?" The old lady produced a letter which read: "DEAR MADAM: You are in danger. Remove all the portable valuables from your house; leave nothing around that thieves can carry away. A FRIEND." The detective read and re-read the missive and finally asked in a simple sort of way: "Who sent this, madam?" "You see the signature." "A friend." "That is all I know." "Can you form the least idea as to who this friend, or rather this so-called friend is? Have you the least suspicion as to his identity?" "I have not." "Has your niece?" "No." "This letter would suggest that there is a scheme on foot to rob you." "That is the suggestion that came to me when I first read the note." "Have you any articles of special value in the house?" "You are a detective." "I am." "I believe your identity and respectability are sufficiently well established for me to answer you frankly." "Madam, you can reserve your answer if you choose until you thoroughly establish my identity and respectability." "It is not necessary. I am satisfied. Yes, I have articles of special value in this house." "Who would be likely to know the fact?" "No one beyond my niece." "You cannot think of any one who would be apt to know that you had articles of special value in the house?" "No." "Is there any one whom you suspect of wishing to scare you?" "No, the fact is we have no acquaintances in New York. We have lived abroad many years and only returned to New York about six months ago. This house came to me by inheritance. It was leased for ten years to a family whom I never knew. My agent leased it. It stood idle for six months, until I came and reopened it upon my return home about six months ago." "When you were abroad where did you reside principally?" "In Paris; my niece attended school in France." "I suppose you had a great many friends in Paris?" "No, very few; I am not of a social turn at all. I do not seek friends. I live a very secluded life for reasons which it is not necessary to explain." "Then there are none of your Paris friends whom you would suspect as the author of that warning note?" "No." The detective re-read the note, examined it very carefully, and finally said: "We can form no suspicion from the note itself." "No." "Madam, have you an album?" "Yes." "Will you let me look at it?" "For what purpose?" "I wish to look at the pictures of some of the people you knew in Paris." The old lady smiled and said: "The album belongs to my niece. It is merely a collection of prominent French characters--public men, statesmen, army officers, musicians, painters and actors--the photographs do not represent friends of ours." "Still you have no objection to my seeing it?" "No, sir." "Please let me see it, and if you have no objection let your niece be present. She may recall facts that have possibly slipped from your memory." "You are a very strange young man." "Yes, I am a very strange young man and I go about my business in a strange manner. Madam, you did the right thing when you sent for me. You and your niece are two lone ladies living in this house. It is evident some one has discovered that you have valuables in your house. A scheme of robbery, it would appear from the warning note, is contemplated. Some one friendly to you has learned of the intended robbery and has warned you. This warning may not only save your property but your life, and it is necessary that we should make every effort to learn who sent the warning note. I desire to see the photographs." Mrs. Frewen summoned her niece and requested her to bring her photograph album. The niece entered the room and was introduced to our hero, and she failed to conceal her surprise upon being informed that the handsome young man, so exquisitely attired, was a celebrated and successful detective. If Oscar noted her surprise he did not indicate it, but took the album and deliberately commenced turning over its pages, and the niece standing over him said: "You will only find pictures of well-known characters in the album. I do not think there is a photograph of a single friend of ours in the book." "Then you have another book?" "No." "You do not keep pictures of your friends?" "No." "It is unfortunate under the present circumstances; but, miss, what public character is the original of that photograph?" The girl blushed and answered: "I had forgotten that the picture was in the album." "Ah, I see; but who is the original?" "Oh, he is a young man whose mother I knew in Paris. Aunty was very kind to the mother and also to the young man at the time he was sick." "Did you ever see this young
{'title': 'Oscar the Detective; Or, Dudie Dunne, The Exquisite Detective by Old Sleuth', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}