The Expressman and the Detective Part 3

The persimmons hung in tempting bunches within easy reach overhead, and Simon would pull them down and shower them into the widow's lap.

Occasionally he would steal his arm around her waist, when she, with a coy laugh, would p.r.o.nounce him an "impudent fellow." Occasionally he would raise the little brown jug and take a hearty pull; finally he stole a few kisses, the widow dropped her head resignedly on his shoulder, and so they floated down the current, loving "not wisely, but too well." On and on they floated, entirely oblivious of time, when they were suddenly startled by a wild halloo. The widow started up with a scream, and Simon grasped the oars as soon as possible. Just in front of them, seated on his horse, and with his revolver ready c.o.c.ked in his hand, sat the deputy sheriff of Montgomery. "Simon Suggs," said he, "jist you git out of that thar boat and come along with me; I've got a warrant for your arrest!"

"Oh! hav yer?" said Simon, "that's all right; I'll jist take this yar lady hum, git my critter, and come in to Montgomery."

"No," said the inexorable deputy, "that won't do, jist you git out of that thar boat and come with me."

The widow now interposed, and in plaintive tone said, "But, sir, what am I to do? It will never do for me to return without Mr. Suggs; what will my n.i.g.g.e.rs think of it? You, Mr. Deputy, can get into the boat with us and go to my house; while you are eating dinner I will send one of my n.i.g.g.e.rs to fetch your horse."

The deputy was finally persuaded to take this course, and securing his horse, he got into the boat.

It will now be necessary to relate how the deputy happened to appear at such an inopportune moment for Simon. The planter, after awaiting the return of Simon for over two hours, was informed by the saloon keeper to whom he appealed, that he had entrusted his money to Simon Suggs, and that his chances of ever seeing it again were poor indeed. On discovering this he swore out a warrant against Simon and placed it in the hands of the sheriff to execute.

The Sheriff found that Simon had left town, and immediately his deputy, mounted on a fast horse, started in pursuit. The deputy pa.s.sed Simon at the widow's, and went directly to his house. He found Mrs. Suggs at home, and demanded of her the whereabouts of Simon. Mrs. Suggs said she did not pretend to keep track of him; that he was a lazy, s.h.i.+ftless fellow, who never supported his family; that about a week previously he had left home, and she had not set her eyes on him since.

The deputy informed her that Simon had committed a grave offense, and that he had a warrant for his arrest.

Mrs. Suggs ended the interview by saying she always thought Simon would come to a bad end, and slammed the door in the deputy's face.

The Deputy Sheriff pa.s.sed the night at a friend's, and the next morning retraced his steps, making inquiries along the road at the different plantations, endeavoring to get some trace of Simon. When he reached the widow's he was told by a slave that "Ma.s.sa Simon" and the "Missus" had shortly before gone down the river for a boat ride, and taking a short cut through the fields he headed them off.

The return journey was against the current, and Simon was pulling away at the oars, the perspiration starting in large drops from his forehead and running down into his eyes, or streaking his cheeks, while the deputy was gaily entertaining the widow, who was about equally divided in her attentions. As they proceeded Simon would say, "A very deep place here;" "bar here;" "push her off a little from that snag," etc., and the deputy would occasionally supply the widow with persimmons. While in the deepest part of the stream the widow discovered a splendid bunch of persimmons hanging from a bough which reached to the centre of the river. She declared she _must_ have them. Simon rested on his oars, while the gallant deputy got on the seat, and by raising himself on his tip toes, just managed to reach the bough, a good strong one, and, grasping it with both hands, he proceeded to bend it down so as to reach the fruit. At this inopportune moment Simon gave way to his oars, and left the poor deputy hanging in the air.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _At this inopportune moment Simon gave way to his oars, and left the poor deputy hanging in the air._--Page 40.]

"Hold on! hold on!" yelled the deputy; "don't you know you are interfering with an officer of the law?"

"My advice ter you is to hold on yourself," was all the consolation he got from Simon, while the widow was convulsed with laughter.

Leaving the deputy to extricate himself from his awkward position as best he could, Simon rowed rapidly to the house, sent a negro to bring the deputy's horse, and after eating an enormous lunch, mounted and started for home.

The deputy hung to the limb and yelled for a.s.sistance, but no one came, and he found he could hold on no longer. He could not swim, and he felt that in dropping from the limb he would certainly meet a watery grave.

All his life he had had a horror of water, and now to be drowned in the hated liquid was too hard. He made desperate efforts to climb up, on the limb, but could not do it. His arms were so strained that he thought they would be pulled from their sockets. He had strung many a negro up by the thumbs to thrash him, but he little thought he should have been strung up himself. His strength rapidly failed him, and he found he could maintain his hold no longer. Closing his eyes, he strove to pray, but could not. Finding the effort useless, he let go his hold, while a cold shudder ran through his body--what a moment of supreme agony!--and dropped into the river. Over such harrowing scenes it were better to throw a veil of silence, but I must go on. He dropped into the river, and as the water was only knee deep, he waded to the bank.

His combined emotions overcame him, and on reaching the bank he threw himself down under the shade of some trees and, completely exhausted, sunk into a deep sleep. How long he slept he could not tell, but on awaking he sprang up and hurried to the place where he had left his horse. Finding it gone, he walked into Montgomery and reported to the Sheriff, not daring to face the widow after the ridiculous tableau in which he had been the princ.i.p.al performer.

The Sheriff procured the services of McGibony, and the next day went with him to Simon's home, and arrested him without difficulty.

In the North, Simon would have been kept a close prisoner; but the fun-loving inhabitants of Montgomery looked on the whole transaction as a very good joke, and Simon was decidedly "in clover," having liberty to go where he wished, and being maintained at the county's expense.

I judged from the circ.u.mstances that McGibony was not to be trusted, and concluded that authorities who could execute the law so leniently, would be poor custodians for a prisoner of Maroney's stamp.

On my return trip to Chicago I stopped over at Rome, Ga., where Maroney's father lived. I discovered that the doctor lived well, although he was a man of small means. I took a general survey of the town, and then went directly to Chicago.

_CHAPTER V._

On arriving in Chicago I selected Mr. Green to "shadow" Mrs. Maroney.

Giving him the same full instructions I had given the other operatives, I despatched him for Montgomery. He arrived there none too soon.

Mrs. Maroney had grown rather commanding in her manners, and was very arrogant with the servants in the house. She also found great fault with the proprietor, Mr. Floyd, for not having some necessary repairs in her room attended to.

One of the lady boarders, the wife of a senator, treated her with marked coolness; and these various circ.u.mstances so worked on her high-strung temperament that she was thrown into an uncontrollable fit of pa.s.sion, during which she broke the windows in her room.

The landlord insisted on her paying for them, but she indignantly refused to do so. On his pressing the matter, she determined to leave the house and make a trip to the North.

Porter had become quite intimate with the slave-servants in the Exchange, and easily managed to get from them considerable information, without attracting any special attention.

One of the servants, named Tom, was the bootblack of the hotel. He had a young negro under him as a sort of an apprentice. The duties of the apprentice, though apparently slight, were in reality arduous, as he had to supply all the spittle required to moisten the blacking; and for this purpose placed himself under a course of diet that rendered him as juicy as possible.

Early in the morning Tom and his a.s.sistant would pa.s.s from door to door.

Stopping wherever they saw a pair of boots, they would at once proceed to business. The helper would seize a boot and give a tremendous "hawk,"

which would cause the sleeping inmate of the room to start up in his bed and rub his eyes. He would then apply the blacking and hand the boot to Tom, who stood ready to artistically apply the polis.h.i.+ng brush. During the whole of this latter operation the little negro would dance a breakdown, while Tom, seated on the chair brought for his accommodation, would whistle or sing an accompaniment. By this time the inmate of the room would have sprung from his bed, and rushed to the door, with the intention of breaking their heads--not s.h.i.+ns--but, on opening the door, the scene presented would be so ludicrous that his anger would be smothered in laughter, and Tom generally received a quarter, as he started for the next door.

Sleep was completely vanquished by the time they had made their rounds, and the greatest sluggard who ever reiterated "G.o.d bless the man who first invented sleep," would find himself drawn from his downy pillow at break of day, with never a murmur.

Tom was naturally of an enquiring turn of mind, and as he pa.s.sed from door to door saw and heard a good deal. Porter, by giving him an occasional fee, had made Tom his fast friend, and he would often regale him with bits of scandal about different boarders in the house.

On the evening of the same day that Mrs. Maroney had given way to her temper, as Porter was pa.s.sing through the hall of the hotel, he heard peals of laughter emanating from the room used by Tom as his blacking headquarters. Going in, he found Tom, perfectly convulsed with laughter, rolling around amongst the blacking brushes and old shoes, while the little negro, with his mouth wide open and eyes starting almost out of his head, looked at him in utter astonishment.

"Why! what's the matter, Tom?" inquired Porter.

It was some time before Tom could answer, but he finally burst out with:

"Oh! golly, Ma.s.sa Porter, you ought to see de fun. Missus 'Roney done gone and smashed all de gla.s.s in de winder. I tell you she made tings hot. Ma.s.sa Floyd say she must pay for de gla.s.s, and she tole him she's not gwine to stop in dis yer house a moment longer. Yah! yah! yah! Den Ma.s.sa 'Roney come, and he fly right off de handle, and tole Ma.s.sa Floyd he had _consulted_ his wife. Ma.s.sa Floyd tole dem dey could go somewhere else fur all he care. Ma.s.sa 'Roney tole de missus to pack up and go to de North, de fust ting in de morning. So Missus 'Roney is gwine to go North. Wonder what she'll do thar, wid no n.i.g.g.e.rs to confusticate? Yah!

yah! yah!"

Porter drew from the darkey full particulars of the affair, and also that he had seen Maroney pa.s.s a large sum of money over to his wife.

Giving Tom a quarter, Porter hurried off after Green, and got him ready to start the first thing in the morning. Bright and early on the twelfth of March, Porter arose, and, _quite accidentally_, ran across Tom, who had just come down with Mrs. Maroney's shoes.

"She is gwine, sure," said Tom! "she tole me to hurry up wid dese shoes.

Her and Ma.s.sa 'Roney am habin a big confab, but dey talk so low, dis n.i.g.g.e.r can't hear a word dey say."

Porter hurried Green to the train, and came back in time to see Maroney get into a carriage, with his wife and her daughter Flora, and drive off toward the station. Maroney secured for them a comfortable seat in the ladies' car, and, bidding them good-bye, returned to the hotel.

Of course Green was on the same train, but, as I had instructed him, not in the same car. He took a seat in the rear end of the car immediately in front of the ladies' car, whence he could keep a sharp lookout on all that went on.

Mrs. Maroney went directly to West Point, and from there to Charleston, where she put up at the best hotel, registering "Mrs. Maroney and daughter."

The next day, leaving Flora in the hotel, she made a few calls, and at two P. M. embarked on the steamer for New York, Green doing the same.

They arrived at New York on the eighteenth and were met at the wharf by a gentleman named Moore, who conducted Mrs. Maroney and Flora to his residence. Green discovered afterwards that the gentleman was a partner in one of the heaviest wholesale clothing-houses in the city.

He knew nothing further about Mr. or Mrs. Maroney than that Maroney had treated him with a good deal of consideration at one time when he was in Montgomery selling goods, and he had then requested Maroney and his wife to stop at his house if they ever came to New York. Accordingly Maroney telegraphed to him when his wife left Montgomery, informing him how and when she would reach New York, and he was at the wharf to meet her.