Chapter LI: Young’s Capture and Escape

The man had kept pretty cool up to this time, but as soon as the acting inspector called his number, he commenced to rave and swear, and tried to dash his handcuffs in Nick’s face.

One of the officers on duty grabbed him, and he quieted down.

“I guess that the jig is up, as you seem to have me marked, so go ahead with what you are going to do,” he snarled.

“The inspector is going to give you a chance to save yourself from Sing Sing if you will be square, but if you are not, you are going up the river for a long time,” said Nick.

The fellow’s belligerent spirit once more came to the surface, and he screamed:

“You have no right to send me there for simply driving a wagon!”

“You hid the men that attacked the officer, here,” said the inspector, pointing to Nick.

“What of it if I did? You can’t send me up for that!”

“No; but I can have you sent up on this old indictment, that perhaps you had forgotten,” said Nick, with a bland smile.

“You will have to tell me what the charge is before I will tell you anything.”

“The indictment charges you with burglary and attempted murder, and if you will remember you never stood trial for it,” the detective said.

“I had forgotten all about it, and would not have been around with that gang from Astoria if I hadn’t.”

“Then you are, or have been, associated with that gang, have you?” asked Nick.

“I have done some work for them, but I have kept out of such things as would lead me to the penitentiary.”

“From whom did you get your orders? Was it from Jack Weeden?”

“No, I never saw Weeden. I got my orders through a man that perhaps you never saw. His name is Hall.”

“It seems to me that I have heard that name before,” commented Nick. “He is the leader of a gang that has been making the trouble over in Astoria, I believe?”

“Well, he has been given credit for having done some things over there that perhaps are not exactly on the level, but he is not the man that you are after, I am sure.”

“Who is the man that you think that we are after?” asked the inspector.

“Oh, I think that you are after the fellow that may be one man, and then again he may be another man. You know that you can’t always tell who a man is by looking at him once; he may be a business man, or a common scoundrel. I have known of people that looked like one man, and the next instant they were identified as somebody else.”

“What are you driving at?” asked Nick.

“Oh, you need not try to fool me. I know what you want me to say.”

“Well, what do we want you to say?”

“You want to know if the blind beggar that hangs around the woods near the shop that is run by Jack Weeden is really a beggar or somebody else.”

“Supposing that we do, who is the man?”

“He might be just a blind beggar, and then he might be----”

Just as Pete Deck was going to finish his sentence, the door was opened, and two policemen dragging between them a struggling prisoner entered the room.

“Billy Young! The very man that we want; this is good fortune, indeed!” cried the inspector.

“Great heavens! Young, how did you come to be brought here?” exclaimed Pete Deck. “I thought that you were over in Astoria.”

“Shut up, you fool!” growled Young.

“That was a good give-away,” laughed Nick.

“If you say another word, I will brain you when I get out of here!” screamed Young, as he turned on Deck.

“All right, Billy; I will not make any more slips. I will keep my trap shut.”

“Now, inspector, that you have got me here, I would like you to tell me what you have me here for? I have not done anything, and it is a shame to deprive a man of his liberty when he is being on the level,” said Young.

“The reason that you were brought here is that you are charged with the murder of Tom Sweet, a detective in the employ of Nick Carter.”

“I didn’t happen to kill him; on the square, inspector, I did not do the work.”

“Then you admit that he was killed, do you?” asked the inspector.

“I don’t admit anything,” stammered Young. He saw that he had made a fatal slip, and he concluded that he would not talk any more.

“It is no use for you to try and question me any further. You might just as well take me to one of your rooms and put me there until you want me, as I don’t intend to give up anything.”

As the officers who had been holding Young by the arm opened the door to lead him away, he gave a wrench and threw them to one side.

Like a flash, he was down the steps and away.

Officers and detectives that had been standing near the door started to chase him. When he turned the corner, the officers were but a few yards behind him. As they turned the corner, they were surprised to see that the street was empty. Not a trace of the man could be found.

They returned to the building, and an alarm was sent out.