Oscar the Detective Part 13

A little later and Oscar Dunne entered the house. All was as it had been agreed it should be, and yet the detective commenced a search. There was a hall pantry off the rear parlor. The detective tried the door; it was locked, but by a little trick of his own he opened it and flashed the light of his tiny mask lantern inside, and there sure enough stood Alice Frewen. The girl colored, but a.s.sumed a very defiant look as she said:

"You had no business to force yourself into my room."

"Your room is of very narrow dimensions, but under the circ.u.mstances I was compelled to force my way in as I wish to use this room as my hiding place, and further I do not propose that you shall give the burglars warning. I am here to catch them and I will."

"Never; I will warn them. I will light the gas and sit up all night."

"Oh, you will?"

"Yes."

"Do not resolve upon so rash a proceeding."

"I shall do as I threaten."

"I am sorry, but I shall be compelled to arouse your aunt and inform her of your intention; also as an explanation, reveal to her all that you have revealed to me."

The girl burst into tears and exclaimed:

"I am at your mercy; what shall I do?"

"I'll tell you what to do."

"Please tell me."

"Trust me. Trust my judgment and consideration for your feelings."

"Let me explain."

"Yes, you are at liberty to explain."

"I wish to save that young man simply because I believe he is the victim of a great wrong. I do not believe he is bad at heart--not a criminal by nature."

"I will not question your motive, but you cannot interfere with the performance of my duty, but I will promise you that no harm shall come to the young man until I am convinced that he is an irreclaimable villain. If he is the victim of wrong he shall have my aid and sympathy.

I can promise you no more than that, beyond the a.s.surance that I am sincere, and I know just what to do."

"I will trust you."

"You are wise."

"You will keep my secret?"

"As long as you obey my instructions."

"I will obey your instructions."

"Then retire to your room and do not come forth until I summon you, or you are summoned by your aunt."

The girl ascended the stairs and our hero prepared for a night's vigil.

He was acting, as he stated, merely as a matter of precaution. He did not antic.i.p.ate the advent of the burglars, but he was just as watchful and careful as though he knew for a certainty that they would come. He did not sleep, but lay down on a sofa in the rear parlor, raising the two windows so as to overhear any noise in case the thieves should put in an appearance. He knew the habits of the robbers well enough. He knew how their methods would be adapted to the lay of the house they were to enter. The house was detached, and there was a storm shed in the rear protecting the back kitchen door. Here was where he antic.i.p.ated they would make their entrance. Once in the storm shed they could take their time in opening the kitchen door, and could also make all their arrangements for escape in case of discovery.

The hours pa.s.sed until about three o'clock in the morning, when the detective, who despite all his doubts had been on the alert, heard a sound. He peeped out, and there sure enough he beheld three men in the yard, and he muttered:

"By ginger! they are here. Well, I didn't expect them, but I will welcome them."

Dudie Dunne was a very resolute young man. He wore moccasins and with noiseless tread pa.s.sed to the kitchen stairway and there took up his position. He knew the men would advance by the stairs the moment they succeeded in getting into the house. Holding his position he waited, and was not surprised at the celerity of their movements, for within ten minutes after his first recognition of their presence in the yard he had evidence that they were in the house--and there he stood at the head of the kitchen stairs prepared to lay them out.

The men were old hands at the business. They wasted no time, but started to ascend the kitchen stairs just as Oscar had calculated they would. He lay low until the foremost man was just at the last step, when a club cut the air; there followed a thud and an outcry and the man went over backward upon the man who was following him.

The detective leaned down the stairs. He stepped over the man he had struck and arrived at the foot of the stairs just as robber number two had risen to his feet, having been knocked down by his pal's fall. Again the club cut the air and robber number two received a clip that disabled him and the detective sprang along to the kitchen. Robber number three had been on the watch. He knew some thing had gone wrong and ran to the kitchen to hear what had occurred. He arrived just in time to run up against that effective club, and he too went down, and as he fell the detective leaped upon him and fixed the darbies on him. He then retired to the bas.e.m.e.nt hall stairs, and arrived just as number two had a second time risen to his feet; the man received a second dose from the club and went down again, and in less time than it takes to record it the darbies were run on him. Robber number one had not moved; the blow he had received had sort of settled him for a little rest, but the detective put the steel bands on him all the same, and then he turned on the gas.

None of the burglars had masks on, although they had their little face-hiders hanging to their lapels like a pair of eyegla.s.ses.

Oscar went to each man and flashed the light of his lantern in their faces one after the other, and then he muttered:

"Well, he is not here; so far so good."

The detective went to the front door and swung his light, and in less than two minutes two men appeared. They were admitted and led down to the kitchen where they seized the robbers. Our hero had recognized two of the men. They were the fellows who had played him for a "chappie."

The three burglars were led through the kitchen door to the yard and marched off, three of the most surprised housebreakers that were ever captured; and right here we have a word to say. There is nothing romantic and daring in housebreaking. It is one of the most atrocious crimes on the criminal calendar. It is simply terrible to think of people defenseless and helpless in their own homes and beds when masked men, prepared to do murder, steal in to rob them. There is no palliation for this offense, for there is no crime, save that of forgery, that is conducted with so much forethought, decision and calculation--yes, calculation to do murder if it becomes necessary, for they go prepared to kill; and it is a grand thing when one of these cruel scoundrels is caught and punished. They are not ent.i.tled to sympathy, despite the fact that some mawkish Sunday-school books sometimes present the good-hearted burglar. If there is any crime that deserves death anywhere near the liability of murder it is the crime of burglary, for a man who will enter a house to steal is the meanest criminal on the face of the earth, and it is well when they are shot down right in their tracks and in the act of their crime.

The three burglars, as stated, were led away, and our hero, who had effected the capture so neatly, ascended the stairs and at the parlor door met Alice Frewen.

"They have been here."

"You have disobeyed me."

"I did not until I knew it was all over."

"Did you know it was all over?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I was watching and listening."

"Well, they did come. I did not expect them, I will admit."

"You have captured them?"

"Yes."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Did you see their faces?"