A knock on the door, and an employee of the office
entered.
“Mr. Damsel, the entire road has been carefully
searched, and no trace of the clothing can be found.”
“That’s bad,” said Mr. Pinkerton,
“we should have found that.”
Mr. Damsel bade the employee to return to the office,
and turning to Mr. Pinkerton, said:
“The case is in your hands. Do what you
want, if any man can run that Cummings down, you can.”
“Well, I’ll take it. I should advise
you first to have Fotheringham arrested as an accomplice.
While I do not think he is one, he may be; at any
rate it will lead the principals in the case to believe
we are on the wrong track, but I must confess there
don’t seem to be any track at all, wrong or
right.”
“I will do that. I will swear out a warrant
to-day against him.”
Mr. Damsel took his leave, and that night Fotheringham
slept behind iron bars.
The detective and the messenger.
After Mr. Damsel had left the hotel, Mr. Pinkerton
sat in deep thought. He had carefully re-read
Fotheringham’s statement, but could find nothing
that could be put out as a tracer; no little straw
to tell which way the wind was blowing.
“Cummings, Cummings, Jim Cummings. By George,
that can’t be the Jim Cummings that used to
flock with the Jesse James gang. That Cummings
was a gray-haired man, while this Cummings is young,
about 26 years old. Besides he is a much larger
than Jesse James’ Jim Cummings. That name
is evidently assumed.
“This statement says he was dressed in a good
suit of clothes, and wore a very flashy cravat.
Furthermore, he bragged a good deal about what he
would do with the money. Also that he would write
a letter to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat exonerating
the messenger. Well, a man who will brag like
that, and wears flashy articles of neck-wear, is just
the man that will talk too much, or make some bad
break. If he writes that letter, he’s a
goner. There will be something in it that will
give me a hold. The paper, the ink, the hand-writing,
the place and time it was mailed—something
that will give him away,”
“I must see this messenger, and I must see him
here; alone. He may be able to give me a little
glimmer of light.”
To think with “Billy” Pinkerton was to
act.
He pressed the annunciator button, and sitting down,
wrote a short note to Mr. Damsel, requesting him to
bring Fotheringham with him to his room.
The bell-boy who answered the call bore the note away
with him, and in a short time, Mr. Pinkerton, looking
out of his window, saw Mr. Damsel in his buggy drive
up to the hotel accompanied by a young man, whom Mr.
Pinkerton recognized from the description given him,
as the unfortunate Fotheringham, who had evidently,
as yet, not been arrested.
