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Writer's pictureKayla Draney

Chapter Eight of The Twin Ventriloquists; or, Nimble Ike and Jack the Juggler by Old Sleuth

Updated: Jul 17

CHAPTER VIII

IKE MAKES A MOST REMARKABLE DISCOVERY AND ALSO PICKS UP CLUES WHICH ENABLE HIM TO START OUT INTELLIGENTLY ON A SHADOW FOR THE BOND THIEVES.

Ike had his own suspicions, but he did not project them. He was going very slow, as he hoped to draw the old man on and force him to a very startling confession. He told the story of Sara Sidney—told it in a straightforward, simple manner. The old man listened attentively and betrayed considerable emotion, and he muttered:


"How unfortunate I have been robbed! How much I might have done for this daughter of my old friend! But alas! I am a poor man now—yes, a poor man."


"All your wealth can be recovered."


"Oh, they all say that."


"Who says so?"


"The detectives who have been here; but they will never recover one dollar. I will never get my property back."


"That is what your niece said," projected Ike suddenly.


The old man almost screamed as he said:


"My niece! What do you mean?"


"I will speak plainly. I cannot be deceived—this man Sidney was more to you than a friend. I recovered the stolen property of Sara Sidney; I will recover your property."


"Who are you, young man?"


"You may call me the devil or Tom Walker if you choose, it makes no difference. I will recover your property, and now I tell you I know your name is Sidney and the girl I know is your niece, and that accounts for the wonderful resemblance to the portrait of your daughter."


The old man glared.


Ike, as our readers will observe, was pressing right ahead in his impressions. He had arrived at a conclusion and he was assuming a tone calculated to force the old man to an admission. He said:


"You need not fear. Your niece is independent; she will not become a burden to you. She is a brave, true, energetic young girl. She has some means—enough to maintain her until she is in a position to support herself by her labor. I tell you, when you see her you will be proud of her."


The old man was very thoughtful for some moments but finally, he said:


"Can I trust you, young man?"


"Yes, you can trust me."


"My real name is Sidney. I did have a brother who went to California. This is all very strange. I have not heard from my brother for nearly thirty years. If what you say is true this girl may be my niece. When can I see her?"


"You cannot see her until I have caught the thieves and restored the property or come to you and admit that I have failed."


The old man appeared dazed and Ike said:


"Tell me your story. You can trust me."


"I believe I can," said the old man; "I will. I have admitted that my name is Sidney and that I am a brother of the Sidney who went to California. I went to South America and while there met a young American girl, the daughter of the United States consul. She became my wife and one child was born to us; but alas! my wife died, carried off by fever, ere the child was a year old, and from that moment I devoted my life to my daughter. I am of humble birth, and I set to work to accumulate a great fortune for my child. I brought out masters from Europe to educate her. She was beautiful, amiable, bright, and accomplished, and I was happy. But alas! death came stealing along one night and wrapped its cold arms around my child, and I laid her beside her mother. From that moment I lost all ambition, all interest in life. I had heard many years previously that my brother was dead. I had never heard of his marriage and did not suppose he had left a child. Strange fate! I live, but my child is gone; he has gone and his child lives. I converted all my wealth into bonds, money, jewels, and securities, and I came home to America. They call me a miser, alas! In my own way, secretly, I have been aiding the poor and needy for twenty-odd years. The portrait you see is a portrait of my child. In the South, you know, girls mature very fast. She was but thirteen when she died. Well, I have had no interest in life. I fear nothing, I have cared for nothing. I have only been waiting for death to come and claim me. His visit has been long delayed and now my wealth is gone. I did not care, but now I do care, for if you are not deceiving me I would have had something for the child of my brother, and you say she resembles the portrait. Well, when my brother and I were boys we greatly resembled each other. And now listen to me: I accept your gage. I will not ask to see my niece until you have made good your promise; either you shall recover my fortune or you shall come to me and say you have failed."


"It will be strange if I ever come to you and say that I have failed. You can trust me. I seek no reward, but I believe I can recover your fortune, and now I have a double motive for doing so."


There came a quick, searching glance to the old man's eyes, but he said nothing until after an interval when he declared:


"Recover the fortune and you shall not complain of your reward."


"Have you talked much to the detectives?"


"I have not, because until now I was indifferent."


"If I can secure the slightest clue I will promise success. Have you any recollection of the appearance of either of the men?"


"Yes; I had a struggle with them before they chloroformed me."


The old man proceeded and gave quite an accurate description of one of the men.


"This is great!" said Ike, and he asked:


"Where did the struggle take place?"


"Down in my parlor. I heard them down there as I heard you, despite your care, and there I met and fought them until overpowered."


Ike went down to the parlor. He spent one minute gazing at the portrait and then set to work. He had associated so much with detectives that he had their methods down to a fine point; and besides, as our readers know, he was naturally a perfect wonder in shrewdness and cunning. He drew his mask lantern and the old man asked:


"Are you a detective?"


"A sort of amateur," came the answer.


Ike got down on the floor, face forward, and flashed the light of his mask lantern over every inch of the carpet, asking questions of the old man as to just where the first grapple commenced, and soon he cried, "Eureka!"


The old man had become eagerly interested.


"What have you found?"


"All I need, added to your description."


Ike had come across several strands of hair. He rose from the floor and held the threads under the full glare of his lantern, and the old man exclaimed:


"I remember; yes, I did grasp one of them by the hair and must have pulled a few locks."


"Hardly a few locks, but enough," said Ike.


The young ventriloquist obtained what he most desired. He had the description, as stated, and he knew the color of the hair of at least one of the robbers. Let him find one of them and he well knew he would not only run down the men but the "swag." He felt quite jubilant, and after a long talk with Mr. Sidney, in which he gave the old gentleman very minute instructions, he passed out the front door, and as he did so a man seized him.


"Hello, young fellow! what are you doing in there?" came the question.


"I am not in there; I am out here," answered Ike coolly, and at the same instant Jack ran up and said:


"Look out for that fellow, Ike. He's a bad one."


"I want you," said the man.


Ike suddenly drew his mask lantern, which he had not extinguished, and flashed the light straight in the fellow's face. The man uttered an oath, drew a revolver, and made as if to strike Ike a blow, but instead, he received a rap on the head which felled him as though he had been hit with an iron bar. As the man fell Ike leaped over his form and he and Jack sped away. Our hero had reasons for speeding away, for he believed he was on to a great thing.


Once out of sight, Jack asked:


"What happened; Ike?"


"Wonders upon wonders, Jack; it's a night of wonders. I can't stop to tell you now; but who is that fellow? You said he was a bad one."


"I'll tell you. While I was waiting for you I saw him and another man come stealthily down the street. I stole behind them and overheard their conversation. They were not looking for you, but someone else. I think when you came forth they mistook you for the man they were looking for."


"They are not officers?"


"No."


"We must trail that fellow. He is probably associated with the robbers."


The two ventriloquists worked a transform and separated, but both were making for the one objective point and both got on to the trail of the man whom Jack had so opportunely knocked over just as he aimed a blow at Ike.


As intimated, they got on the trail of the man and followed him until he met a second man on the Bowery. The latter had come from a saloon—a brilliantly illuminated gin palace. He stood right under the glare of the electric lights and Ike had a clear, full view of him.


"There's our man," said Ike.


"What do you mean, Iky?"


Quickly Ike stated that he had received a clue and that he identified the man standing in the doorway of the gin palace beyond all question as one of the burglars.


"This is great!" said Jack. "Let's close in on him, and I'll try a little hypnotism on him."


"You may have plenty of chance yet for the exercise of your mysterious power, Jack."


We will here state that Jack had given Ike an exhibition of his wondrous gift as a hypnotist. Ike was the greater ventriloquist, but he did not possess the hypnotic power; while Jack possessed it, as the readers of his former adventures as recorded in Number 19 of our series are aware, to a remarkable degree.


Ike was not naturally excitable. He was singularly cold-blooded, but upon discovering his man so soon his blood did course rather rapidly through his veins.


There is one other fact we wish to state: burglars, as a rule, do not leave the great cities. They find them safer hiding places than anywhere else, despite the great number of detectives hovering around. There are all sorts of burglars—the bunglers and the accomplished chaps who proceed on almost scientific principles. These men are strategic. They study out all their plans weeks in advance. They calculate all their chances, both to accomplish their burglaries and also to prepare for their retreat and hiding. Ike calculated that the men who had robbed Mr. Sidney were accomplished and veteran crooks who would be likely to remain in the city, especially after making such a big haul; and when he secured the specific clue he calculated upon finding his man, but certainly did not hope to drop on him so soon.


"What shall we do?" asked Jack, after a few moments.


"We will follow this fellow. He will go home by and by, and—"


The lads did follow the man, but he did not go home, and they were destined to have quite a long shadow ere they ran their game down. They located him in his haunts, but did not trail to any permanent abiding place; and finally, well on toward morning, they returned to their home well wearied out but hopeful. Ike was sure the man would remain in the city and that he could locate him almost any time when he needed.


It was late on the following afternoon when our hero visited Sara Sidney. He listened to a long and hopeful talk of the girl's plans. He did not say anything directly, but did project:


"Suppose you should find your uncle, and he should disapprove of your plans?"


"I do not expect ever to find my uncle."


"Well, now, I once made you a promise."


"I know you did, but remember, it is thirty years since my father saw his brother."


"Well, some men live to a pretty old age. I am sure I will find your uncle."


"What makes you so certain?"


"Oh, it came to me in a vision. Yes, I will make you a positive promise: I will find your uncle. I know that he is alive, or was a few weeks ago."


The girl became quite interested, and she looked very animated and beautiful as she urged Ike to tell her how he had learned that her uncle was living a few weeks previously.


Ike, however, did not tell his tale, but he hoped to tell her in the near future, and with it also add the wonderful narrative of the recovery of a great fortune.


Three weeks passed, and during that time either Ike or Jack or Detective Du Flore was on the trail of the light-haired man whom our hero had identified as one of the robbers.


One day Jack asked:


"Ike, are you sure you have the right man?"


"Yes, I am sure, and we'll get down to him."


"Possibly the fellow knows we are on his track."


"No, but he is well aware that detectives are liable to be on his track and he is playing away from his lair, but he'll go home sure."


On the day following the conversation recorded Ike was on the trail. All three did not "dog" the man at one time—they did so alternately. It was Ike's "tour," as boatmen say, and the ventriloquist struck his "lay" at last. Hope is the propelling force of energy, and it was constant hope that made our hero so persistent on the track of his man. Often during the three weeks, he had visited Sara Sidney. He enjoyed her importance as she urged him to explain what he meant when he told her that he knew her uncle was still living. It was delightful to him. The girl was a constant charm to him when in her presence, and a memory of her sweet personality haunted him when he was away from her. Yes, he had a strong motive for sticking to the trail, and, as intimated, he at length fell to a great lead. He had followed his man to Staten Island or rather followed him on board one of the Staten Island boats, and then a great game commenced. He saw the thief wander all over the boat scanning the face of every man and woman on board, and the ventriloquist made a second discovery. He had seen the man exchange signals with a fine-looking lady on board, and as the burglar wandered around Ike saw the lady watch him in a most intent manner, and he muttered as a great suggestion came to him: "At last! At last!"


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