The vestibule limited mystery

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Chapter I. Off For Chicago On The Limited

A loud knock upon the door of my bachelor apartment arouses me from a sound slumber, and opening my eyes I see by the little cricket clock on the mantel that the hour lacks but a few minutes of eight. Having been out on some important business during the better part of the past night, and with a smaller measure of success than I might wish, I am not in the best of humor upon finding my rest disturbed ; but business is business, and I have learned long ago how to make the most of a bad bargain.

The rap sounds again, this time accompanied by the sharp, rasping voice of my landlady — which I am sure would arouse the Seven Sleepers.

‘‘ Mr. Craig ! Are you dead or alive in there ?”

‘‘What’s all this row about, Susan?” I grumble, digging my knuckles into my eyes, the better to disperse the cohorts of the drowsy god.

“A note from the office for you, sir,”

“Ah! who brought it?” arousing myself, well knowing that this meant business.

“Jackson, sir— he said as how it was very important, and I must get you up at once.”

“Confound Jackson,” I mutter, yawning, and then call out aloud, “slip it under the door, there’s a good woman, and have me a cup of coffee and an egg in five minutes, please. There’s no telling when I may get anything to eat if the colonel has any special business ahead.”

“All right, sir. Hurry down,” calls the good old soul, and I hear her shuffling to the lower regions of the small house, at imminent risk to life and limb.

The note that has been thrust under the door is speedily in my hands and opened,

“ Come to the office immediately. A big case demands attention. Minutes precious. A.”

It is just like the colonel — brief and to the point, yet containing a promise of great things. The legions of sleep have been thoroughly routed, and I am wide awake now. With a rapidity acquired by long practice, I don my garments, dash some water into my face, and the stipulated five minutes have hardly passed ere I descend the stairs.

Susan can be relied on every time, and I find my eggs and coffee ready. Making a quick breakfast, I leave the house.

The office being only a few blocks away, I find myself in the presence of my employer. Colonel Acton, at just twenty minutes after eight. He smiles upon seeing me, and rubs his hands in a way peculiar to himself when pleased.

“ Mr. Craig, how long will it take you to prepare for a journey?” he asks,

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“ That depends where my destination is— if California or Europe, less than half an hour, but' if you want me to travel to the other world, I should want forty odd years to get ready in.”

“ The half-hour will do in this case, Craig. I have already telegraphed to secure you a berth in the Chicago Limited Vestibule express which leaves at 10 A. M.”

“Then Chicago is my goal, colonel?” I ask.

“ That depends pretty much on circumstances and yourself, Mr. Craig. It may be but one of your stopping-places on a trip around the world,” he replies, with a smile, at which I shrug my shoulders unconcernedly.

“ I have gone globe-trotting with only a valise at my side before now, and I suppose I could do it again. Will you give me the directions?”

He hands me an envelope.

“You will find them written out in that. Here is a roll of bills for current expenses. Keep a strict account of expenditures, and if you need more draw on me. This case is of the greatest importance, and if success can be obtained, it will be a big amount in your pocket, I give you my word, Mr. Craig.”

“Good. That is what I like. It is worth while devoting one’s whole energies to the business. How about that Livingston affair, sir?”

“That is still open, I believe?”

“I am sorry to say it is, colonel.”

He looks at me reflectively for a moment, smoothing his chin meanwhile, with a measured movement, as though this action has something to do with stirring up his thought.

“I was tempted to go on this case myself, Mr.

THE Vestibule limited mystEbV.

Craig, but decided to hand it over to you. Let all other matters be subservient to the one in hand. Wire me if anything unusual turns up, and do your level best for success.”

The clock strikes the half-hour, and I rise.

“I will lose no time in getting away, then. What name have you given them in reserving a seat in the sleeper?”

“Your old favorite — Hezekiah Broadbrim.”

“Thanks. That suits me to a dot.”

Then I shake hands with the colonel, who wishes me all manner of luck, and presently I am hurrying along back to my den again, to make ready for the trip. This is not an unusual event in my life. I am prepared to sail for Europe on half an hour’s notice, and on one occasion started on a voyage that took me around the world, with only fifty minutes warning.

I am glad the colonel desires me to assume the disguise of a Quaker, for it is really my best character, and I never fear discovery while carrying out that role. Everything is at hand, and 1 am an adept at the work, so that before nine o’clock Duncan Craig has entirely lost his identity, and Hezekiah Broadbrim comes upon the scene, in sober drab garments of a peculiar cut, a widebrimmed hat of the well-known build, and a pious face that seems to be continually shocked over the universal depravity of a sinful world, as seen through a pair of plain glass spectacles.

My valise contains a number of things that I imagine may turn out useful upon such an excursion. When I pick it up, bid my good landlady farewell, and sally forth, it is just twenty minutes

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after nine, with plenty of time to reach the ferry-house long before the hour set for starting.

A dozen times I am beset by boys who desire to carry my valise, and in despair I finally hand it over to one fellow, with orders to stick at my side.

Just as I expected, crossing Broadway I am met by a bunco man with outstretched hand, and a smile that is child-like and bland.

“Well, well, can this be my old friend, Josiah Bland, of Philadelphia?” he asks.

I seize his hand and give it a squeeze that almost dislocates the small bones, and causes a look of intense agony to spread over his face.

“Yea, verily, that is my name, and the City of Brotherly Love my habitation. Thee is Mr. Larkin, the bank president’s son or nephew, I forget which ; but I have been looking for thee some time now. What a boon it is to have a friend in such a wicked city. I say, Joe, lend me ten, that’s a good fellow!”

The man’s eyes almost bulge from their sockets with surprise.

“Great Scott!” he ejaculates, giving me a look of amazed wonder, and then withouir even an apology for his rudeness, the renowned bunco steerer. Hungry Joe, makes a bee-line for the Astor House, as though he has suddenly remembered a very important engagement there.

I chuckle over his disaster and continue on my way. Evidently victims are scarce on this occasion, for hardly have I reached Cortlandt street, to turn toward the North River, than another rascal stops me.

This time he is in appearance a missionary, with a long, sanctimonious face, and the garb of piety. He meets me with open arms— his whole warm heart is in his face— he looks as though he would like to embrace me, but I meet his eye, and hold him enthralled by the power of my gaze, while I ejaculate:

“Scat! you disreputable villain!”

It takes all the ambition out of him, just as a hot day wilts the stiff est standing collar.

He gives me one look of horror that causes me much amusement to remember, murmurs something about a dreadful mistake, and not being able to see well without his glasses, after which he scuttles up Church street in si^^way that suggests a sudden fear of arrest.

I have never known the rascals to be so thick ; but my disguise is good, and proves irresistible to the average bunco man. They are generally cunning chaps, too, and capable of seeing any makeup in their intended prey.

This time I am allowed to reach the ferry in peace, but a fellow follows me, as if he scented game. I recognize him and give the officer at the crossing a few words of warning, so that when the chap comes along he orders him away gruffiy.

Once inside the ferry-house I take my satchel from the boy, and discharge him.

It is just twenty minutes of ten, so I have plenty of time to spare. I buy some fruit to eat on the journey, and cross over the river on the first boat. The day is a fair one and gives promise of making a pleasant affair of the trip ; but it matters little what the weather is to one snugly ensconced in the Vestibule Limited express — save for the danger of delays from washouts, should the rain be very heavy.

I never miss an opportunity to study those around

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me, and mentally decide what manner of persons they are, whither bound, and upon what sort of mission.

Long experience, and a capacity for reading the human countenance, renders one pretty expert at this sort of business — in fact, I am able to hit the mark under ordinary circumstances two times out of three.

It is a species of amusement that grows upon one, especially if traveling daily upon some of the great ferry-boats near New York, or using the elevated roads frequently.

Many a dull hour have I passed away in this manner, and profitably, too, for it keeps your wits sharpened, and increases your fund of knowledge concerning the odd fancies of your fellow-men.

There are some strange characters upon the Pennsylvania ferry-boat on this morning in question, and I manage to amuse myself in studying them as we speed toward the Jersey side of the noble Hudson. No doubt I myself am set down in the same category by the ordinary every-day passengers, but Quakers are seen too often to cause much comment, especially pn a Philadelphia line.

I proceed to the ticket-office as soon as we land, and find that a seat and berth have been kept for one Hezekiah Broadbrim, for Chicago.

Having secured my ticket, berth check and extra fare ticket, I am ready to board the train. Very naturally the strange business about to engross my attention, though as yet unknown to me, possesses a great attraction. I am anxious to learn what it may prove to be.

All must come in good time — when I am comfortably settled in my seat, and rolling out of the city, it will be in order for me to take hold of the letter of instructions handed me by Colonel Acton, and ascertain just what sort of game I am to play on the Limited Vestibule express, ere reaching Chicago.

One or two of the passengers are already seated in the Pullman sleeping-car to which I am assigned by reason of my check. As many more have come over on the same boat with myself and the others will arrive on the next one.

I settle myself comfortably and prepare to study my fellow-travelers. They promise to give me much pleasure in the analysis, too, being an uncommon lot of people.

The last boat enters the slip, there is a rush of people — our car receives its last additions, and the starting time comes—all full but one berth.

THE VESTIBULE LIMITED MYSTERY.

Chapter II. My Fellow-passengers

A bell clangs.

“All aboard !” calls an official outside. ^

Hurried adieus are said, and those not going, leave the train. A signal is given, and we begin to move, passing through the streets of Jersey City, and heading for the cut in the Bergen hills.

In a very brief time the Limited is making good time over the meadows beyond the Hackensack River. The passengers in our car have by this time managed to get seated in their respective places, and presently the conductor will be going his rounds to see that each has the proper seat called for by check.

It is time for me to open Acton’s letter of instructions, and find out what I am to do. So I spread it before me in such a way that no other eyes can catch a word.

He has written it hurriedly, probably in the time" which elapsed between sending Jackson to call me, and my appearance at the office ; but I am used to his ways, and can generally supply anything that is missing.

-Verbatim, my letter of instructions reads:

“In the same car with you, I believe, at any rate on the Limited Vestibule express, you will discover several parties whom you are to watch closely. I will describe them. One seems to be a man of forty-five ; a handsome, dashing fellow, with an eye

THE VESTIBULE LIMITED MYSTERY.

that few ladies can resist ; he has a gray mustache and small side-whiskers. This man is Colonel Larz Andrews.

“ Accompanying him is a woman who persists in keeping her face vailed, and yet, if you chance to get a glimpse of her countenance, you will find it strikingly beautiful.

“Watch this couple — discover all you can about them, for the secret of your journey is wrapped up in their movements. There is a third party near by — keep your eye out for him. I do not know in what character he will appear, but you will discover him through his anxiety about this pair — he is apt to watch them like a hawk.

“Now to explain the matter as well as it can be done just at present. This man is on a big lay; he is planning to get hold of a million at least. The woman is his confederate, and is known in England as the most successful confidence woman of the day, although hardly more than a girl in years. Her real name is Ann Keilly, but she long ago discarded that, and uses one more fancy. I don’t know what it will be this time.

“Watch this couple. Before long you will get on to their dodge. They travel as father and daughter, he a retired English officer. The game will begin under your eyes ; when you see what they are up to you will comprehend what you are to do. If you are puzzled, wire me while e?i route, and I will answer at Harrisburgh, Altoona, or Pittsburgh ; but I trust the game to your good judgment.”

That is all.

I turn the paper over and look at the back, but not another scrap of writing meets my eyes. Eeally, this surprises me. It is not like the colonel to give such vague instructions. I am all in a fog with regard to what I have to do, and must trust to my good sense, just as if by accident I had discovered that this couple must be playing some game which curiosity prompts me to investigate.

THE VESTIBULE LIMITED MYSTERY.

Why has not my employer given me fuller particulars? It would have been easy for him to have stated in so many words what the strange game of these confidence people might be, and have saved me some guessing. Does he intend to give me an opportunity to indulge in my favorite study? The colonel knows me well, and can depend upon Duncan Craig every time, but that does not wholly explain his omission — perhaps it was unintentional ; he may have meant to tell me all, and J have a half idea I will get a telegram ahead in our regular cipher.

If not, then he means that I am to be thrown on my own resources. This may tickle my professional vanity but it makes my task all the harder, and I do not thank my employer.

As I replace the note in my pocket, I glance around the Pullman in search of the couple thus described. Jove ! they are just opposite my seat, as luck will have it. Without appearing to take any particular notice of them, I rapidly scan both parties.

The man is indeed a dashing-looking fellow, though his face, to my keen observation, shows slight signs of dissipation. , I realize at once that this fellow is a shrewd schemer, and when playing for a million, as the colonel has expressed it, he will be a hard one to beat.

As for his companion, I am unable to determine her character, for she keeps her face vailed. So scrupulously does she stick to this that the other passengers must believe she is either very ugly, or else following out the requirements of a vow. I know the truth will prove both suppositions wrong.

Her figure is a charming one, and I can well im-

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agine that if her face matches it, the girl must be a charmer indeed.

She will raise that plagued vail after a while, and give me a chance to see her face. Meanwhile I observe the young man with whom she converses.

He is good-looking, intellectual, and has the appearance of a man accustomed to wealth. I have seen him somewhere, that I am sure of as soon as my eyes fall on his face, and I set my brains to work, endeavoring to remember just where, as Colonel Acton has not seen fit to mention even his name.

One thing is evident— this man is head over ears in. love with the vailed woman. I can see that with one eye closed, for his actions declare him insnared by her spell.

I fall to moralizing, and remember how the strongest men I have known, able to resist all ordinary temptations, have fallen at length in the snare set by some siren. It seems that man’s best friend and worst enemy in this strange world of ours is— woman.

Then I smile complacently as I refiect that I have been above the common run, since I have reached the age of forty and never compromised myself as yet in a love scrape. Ho matter how lovely the face might be, Duncan Craig has been able to sneer at the fancy, and^ devote himself strictly to business. I would not have the reader believe me an ogre — I know lots of happy benedicts and envy them their lot, but have long since made up my mind that fate never intended me for such a state.

Perhaps my time may yet come, I admit, while sitting there watching the couple opposite by means of the small mirror between the windows in my

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section — who knows? Forty is an age of reason to be sure, but they tell me reason is no match for Cupid, and I am fain to believe it, judging from the many odd things I have witnessed in times past.

Suddenly, I remember that as yet I have made no etfort to discover the other party who is supposed to be watching these people. I glance around the car to see if I can pick him out immediately, but, passing from one traveler to another, I fail to do so.

I recognize a well-known manager and dramatic writer, whose plays have been a great success. In his company is an actor, also well known as a delineator of peculiar people. They occupy section one.

Then I see a commercial traveler — how easy it is to distinugish him from the common herd. He looks as though he owns the earth. 1 afterward learn that he is a New York business man, bound to Chicago, perhaps to attend some important meeting. Opposite him is a woman attired as a nun. She sits there almost motionless, and no doubt engrossed with serious thoughts.

Farther on are the trio I am watching, the young man having a seat vis-a-vis with myself, when in it. As I turn and pass down the aisle to get a drink of water, while the train shoots through Newark, I take in the balance of my fellow-passengers.

Just back of me, in six, are two ladies and a gentleman, whom I set down as belonging to the upper ten of Chicago. Scraps of their talk having already reached my ears gives me this impression even before I see them.

Then in section five, across from them are a number of valines, the Qwne4’s of which are either in the smoking compartment or else visiting some friend in one of the other sleepers.

This leaves two sections.

Number seven is occupied by a queer old gent whom I take to be a musician, for he has a violin done up in a case, and handles it now and then as carefully as though it were a baby. There is something about his eyes that tells me I have seen him before. I know Ovid Musin and several other fine violinists, but cannot place this singular old gent with the long white locks. However, I mark him down as the Professor. Opposite to him' sits a man whose dress is rather loud. I know he is the owner of fast horses, and perhaps a race-track gambler. At any rate he travels in style, and throws his money around recklessly.

In the last section, I find a quiet-looking woman, who seems to be of foreign blood. I mark her down as some one’s attendant — a sort of companion, but for the life of me fail to discover how this can be, as the other seat of the section is occupied by a Jewish gentleman who looks as though he might be a Rabbi.

Passing beyond the drawing-room and smokers’ compartment, I get a drink of ice- water. A couple of gentlemen are smoking, and I take it they belong to the valises, or the latter do to them — in section five.

Having thus made my inventory of the car, I am puzzled to decide who it is my employer declares is watching the trio opposite my seat. This can only be found out by careful scrutiny, and I' will have plenty of time to look into the matter as the train speeds onward. As yet, the only one I suspicion is the old Professor, and I mean to keep an eye on him.

Here is a strange game being played, and I must puzzle out the truth. What do these two confidence people mean to do with the rich young man? I remember him now as Robert Hammond, of New York, as bright a figure in politics and society as the metropolis can boast, and I am doubly astonished to see him in the toils.

The two gentlemen in the smoking compartmentare Englishmen, who have come out for sport, and seem to be on their way to the North-west with that purpose in view.

Business necessitated their being in New York and Chicago, which accounts for their taking this route in preference to the Canadian Pacific.

I hear them telling this to the Pullman car conductor who sits with them.

Again 1 pass to my seat to pick up more information concerning the strange game. I remember Colonel Acton declaring that it rests entirely with me whether the matter is finished at Chicago, or the journey indefinitely prolonged ; and I am sure that unless I diligently set to work it will be another globe-trotting tour.

I cannot hear what those across from me are saying, but the young man seems to be begging a favor. The girl glances around through her vail ; my head is turned aside, but I can see by means of the mirror.

She raises her vail a minute and gives her victim a ravishing smile that leaves him colorless with emotion. I can hardly blame the poor devil for making a fool of himself — that face is the most wonderful I have ever laid eyes on.

Chapter III. In The Toils Of The Siren

The vail falls again, and I draw a long breath. If Larz Andrews plays such trump cards as this beauty, I do not wonder at his success. Robert Hammond is her slave— he will follow her almost to death. I see him endeavor to > touch her hand now and then ; she plays her part to perfection, and excites his passion in a dozen little ways known to. her sex.

The pretended father is deeply interested in a novel, and pays no attention to the young couple. He knows he can trust the girl to do what he wishes.

By the merest chance in the world I look in the mirror at the end of the car, which reflects everything back of me. The quiet, dark-faced woman whom I have set down as some one’s companion, has partly risen from her seat. I see her make a few rapid movements with her hands, not unlike the letters of the deaf and dumb alphabet, and wondering to whom she can be signaling, cast my eyes down the aisle until they rest upon — the nun.

Ah! I understand now. Whether the person wearing that sober garb is a genuine nun or not, she is evidently the party my employer meant when he said I would discover some one else watching the game.

It grows more interesting.

THE VESTIBULE LIMITED MYSTERY.

I endeavor to make up my mind whether this nun’s garb may not be assumed for the occasion. Who is the woman wearing it? What connection does she bear toward the adventuress? She has a maid with her ; this fact does much to make her out a counterfeit in my mind.

Perhaps it is Hammond she spies upon — she may be some cast-off love of his, seeking revenge ; or a sister, devoted to his interests, and desirous of saving him from the doom to which the rich young man is drifting.

That I must find out as time passes.

Then, I go over the list of passengers once more, and find my interest resting on the quaint Professor again. He is watching these people too ; well, that is not so odd, if I can believe he has had a glimpse of the girl’s face, which may be the case.

The steady motion of the fast train makes traveling a pleasure, and not a stop will be effected until we draw into Philadelphia, after a run of some ninety miles.

Will my employer wire me there? he may have realized how indefinite his instructions must have been, and concluded to let me deeper into the matter. Already I have reached what is probably the real truth — that some one has hired him to save Robert Hammond from his fate.

When a man is dead set upon such a thing— head over ears in love, dazed, enslaved, charmed by such an adorable creature as the girl with whom he is seated, it must prove a Herculean task to save him against his will. I do not shrink from it, but at the same time understand full well the difficulties in the way.

Ah I a thought flashes into my mind ; at first I

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have supposed it is the young man’s father who is back of my employer, but the idea occurs to me that this same woman dressed as a nun may have something to do with the matter.

Acton has told me there is a million at stake, and if such is the case, these confidence people will naturally exert themselves as never before — it will be the supreme effort of their lives.

As the victim is blinded and dazzled by the glamour that is upon him, he may naturally be expected to side with his enemies, unless his eyes are opened by some astonishing process, so that he may see the truth exactly as it appears.

Philadelphia is reached after twelve o’clock.

The one seat vacant in our car, opposite the two English sportsmen, is occupied here by a thin-faced woman with corkscrew curls, whom I take to be an old maid. A glance at her traveling satchel reveals the fact that she is the principal of a young ladies’ academy out in Illinois. I consider her my beau ideal of a school marm — prim, sagacious, and stern.

Again the Vestibule Limited starts out, now to head for Harrisburgh upon the Susquehanna, and through the gates of the river into the heart of the Alleghenies.

Young Hammond comes over to his seat and opens his satchel to get something out. I notice that he seems very unlike a hian in his proper senses, and wonder whether these plotters have drugged him in any way. It may be only the staggering effects of his fascination that I witness; but I never saw a plainer case of the enchantment of a Circe than this. I reflect with rather grim satisfaction, that there has been a day in New England when they tied a witch to the stake for just such