"Then, I take it, you were not long in accomplishing your purpose?"
"No, indeed, it took but a second to bolt the woodshed door, and an additional minute or two for me to retrace my steps."
"And then you went to your window?"
"Yes, sir; for, you see, from the window of my room, a person can look down on the rear apartment windows of the basement. I raised the window, but could not hear the words used in the basement below, although the parties there seemed to be still quarreling with their tongues."
"Were they Germans?" asked Old Spicer.
"No, sir; I am quite positive they were not."
"What makes you so sure about it?"
"Because the indistinct utterances I overheard did not sound at all like those coming from a Teutonic tongue."
"You caught sight of these parties at last, did you not?"
"Yes, sir; just before I went to bed I saw from my window the forms of two men issuing from the basement and prowling in the yard."
"Would you know those men again?"
"Good gracious! no, sir."
"Why not?"
"A heavy fog had settled in the neighborhood, making it impossible for me to obtain a clear view of them, or, indeed, of any objects forty feet away."
"When you found you couldn't make out who they were, what did you do?"
"I went to bed."
"A very wise proceeding, I must confess." Then abruptly:
"Miss Neustrom, I would like to see you alone for a few minutes."
The girl started and looked at her aunt.
That good woman seemed bewildered, and didn't know what to say.
"I shall not detain you for more than a few minutes," said the detective in a reassuring tone. "This room will do," and he pointed to what might have been the dining-room.
"Come, then," said Minnie, and, opening the door, she led the way into the next apartment.
They remained together for more than a quarter of an hour, and then Old Spicer took his leave.
Where he spent the rest of the day is not positively known; but that night, at nine o'clock, he sat in his own back parlor, calmly waiting the coming of Seth Stricket and George Morgan.
At length, within a few minutes of each other, they both arrived, and as soon as they were seated, Old Spicer impatiently asked:
"Well, what have you to tell me? I suppose you have found out something of importance?"
"Who shall speak first?" asked George, with a smile.
"Let's hear from you," said the old detective.
"Very well," was the reply. "The first thing of importance I have to mention is the traces of footprints I found in the yard just north of the Ernst homestead."
"Ah! footprints, eh? Were they plain distinct?"
"Some of them were quite so. You see, the parties, whoever they were, that went through this yard, walked over ground that has been recently planted with vegetables, and the tracks of their boots or shoes are still discernible."
"But have you any good reason for supposing these tracks were made by the parties we are looking for?"
"It is quite evident, from the direction they take, that those who made them came from the Ernst back yard, and proceeded to the fence on the north boundary-line of the property next beyond. There are also what I regard as unmistakable signs on the high board fence where some one tried to climb that fence very recently."
"You measured the footprints?"
"Yes, sir."
"Could you get casts of them?"
"I managed to get two or three, but none that are quite perfect."
"That's all well enough, George," said Old Spicer, after a moment's reflection; "and yet what I can't quite understand is why the murderers should have taken the trouble to climb that fence and go across that yard, when it would have been much more convenient for them to have walked right out the front door of the barroom, for no one, so far as I can learn, was on the street at that hour. Then, too, such a course would have taken them clear of high fences, back yards, and a possible watch-dog."
"I can't explain the matter," smiled George; "but there are the marks on the fence, and there are the footprints."
"Well, they shall have due consideration, of course. And now what next?"
"The next piece of information I have to offer is there's a woman in the case!"
"So? Well, there generally is. What evidence have you got on this point?"
"You know how many handkerchiefs were used in binding the poor old woman's limbs and in gagging her?"
"Yes, five, at least, I should say."
"And then, you remember, Woodford found another?"
"Yes, marked 'S. S.'"
"And now I have found still another, which is certainly the property of a woman."
"Is there any mark upon it?"
"Yes. I have found the initials 'E. B.,' or 'C. B.,' in one corner, and there yet lingers in it the scent of a cheap perfume."
"Let me see the handkerchief."
Morgan took it from his pocket and handed it to Old Spicer.
He carefully examined the two letters in the corner.
"It's hard to say whether they are 'E. B.' or 'C. B.,'" he said at last; "but I am inclined to think the latter."
Then he put the handkerchief to his nose.
"Hum. Cheap perfume, eh?" he said.
"Yes; can't you detect it?" asked George.
"I certainly detect an odor a peculiar odor; but I don't call it perfume."
"What do you call it, then?"
"If I were to give it a name, I should call it "
"Well, what?"
"Chloroform."
"Chloroform!"
"Certainly."
"By Jove! I believe you're right."
"I know I am right. Where did you find this handkerchief?"
"Just behind the head of the sofa, where it had fallen; and why some one hadn't found it before is more than I can understand."
"I suppose because they didn't like to disturb the resting-place of the body."
"That must be it; for I had to move the sofa out a little to get at it."
"And you think, from the fact of having found this handkerchief, that there was a woman with the murderers?"
"I think there may have been. The male portion of humanity, as a general thing, do not go to the extremity of initialing their pocket-handkerchiefs, and few men carry a piece of cambric so fine as this. Then, too, ordinarily, a man is not armed with more than one handkerchief at a time especially those of the class of citizens that made the Ernst saloon their headquarters. So, speculating on such a basis and also on the fact that all of the seven handkerchiefs might reasonably be called those of females, I think there is little doubt but one woman at least, assisted materially in this murderous work."
"I am inclined to agree with you, George. By the way, did you manage to learn anything more about that trap-door and secret tunnel?"
"Very little. As you didn't want me to explore it when any of the regular force were about, I was obliged to confine myself to questioning such of the widow's patrons and neighbors as I thought might have some information on the subject to impart."
"Well, you found out something from them?"
"Yes, one fellow had a somewhat romantic story to tell. Years ago, he said, when the Sunday liquor-law was so strictly enforced in this city, Mrs. Ernst and her second husband, who was then living, built an immense underground vault in the back-yard, at some distance from the house, and that trap-door opens into a tunnel leading to this vault, which, by the way, is capable of accommodating quite a number of persons.
"The thing was a grand success. There were, of course, strong suspicions that the woman and her last two husbands were violating the law by selling liquor and beer on Sunday, but no evidence of a positive character could be obtained, and the reason was that this great underground chamber was so secluded and so vigilantly guarded that the entrance to it was known to only the best and most reliable customers.