The Greatest Cases of Pinkerton Detective Agency. Pinkerton Allan

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      CHAPTER XXIX.

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      At Jenkintown there was no lull in the fight. The battle was going on gloriously. Breakfast at Cox's was a meagre meal, even the children were neglected, as all the grown portion of the household were on the lookout for the book-peddler.

      "Sister Ann! Sister Ann! do you see any one coming?" was the cry.

      Every once in a while one of them would go to the gate and look anxiously down the road, in the direction of Philadelphia. Mrs. Maroney was impatiently awaiting the arrival of Madam Imbert. She did not have to wait long, as the Madam came down immediately after breakfast. Her commanding figure and decided expression made her appear like a general giving orders. She was perfectly calm, while all the rest were so excited that they did not know what to do or say. She controlled the position.

      Mrs. Maroney had not slept any and was still unable to decide upon her action. She strolled out with the Madam a short distance, thinking to find relief in a quiet chat. She said she was filled with doubts and fears. She was afraid to trust Josh., and he might go off at any moment with the packages. Madam Imbert told her that there was only one thing to be done, and that was to give up the packages to White as her husband ordered.

      "Are you sure," said she, "that the letter is in your husband's handwriting?"

      Mrs. Maroney looked at her in a startled manner and pulled the letter from its hiding place in the bosom of her dress. She scanned it over carefully and said:

      "Yes, it is Nat.'s writing."

      "Then there is nothing to do but to give it up. If my husband ordered me I would gladly give up all I have in this world to please him."

      They remained away from the house for some time, and when they returned it was nearly noon. On looking down the street they discovered a book-peddler slowly toiling along from the direction of Philadelphia and evidently bending his steps towards Cox's. As Mrs. Maroney saw him coming along sweltering in the sun and bending under the weight of his load of books, she gave an involuntary start, and Madam Imbert, on whose arm she leaned, felt that she was trembling with excitement. Cox stood beside his wife in the door-way with his teeth clinched. His wife looked unutterable things, but neither uttered a word.

      Madam Imbert and Mrs. Maroney went into the yard and stood leaning over the gate, watching the peddler, who was rapidly drawing near. He arrived at the gate at the appointed time.

      "Do you wish to buy any books?" asked he, at the same time handing Mrs. Maroney a novel to look at, which he opened so as to disclose a note. He spoke to her in a low tone and said:

      "I am from prison," then glancing at the note, "I think that is for you."

      She took the novel, and, holding it open as if reading it, scanned the contents of the note:

      "My Dearest Wife: This is the book-peddler. You will want to buy books from him. Buy what you want. Give him the packages for me. He is honest.

      "All is well.

      Nat."

      When she had read the note she stood looking at it, apparently unable to speak. Madam Imbert looked at her, and as she began to fear that some of the neighbors might notice the long stay of the peddler, said:

      "Have you no message for the man? Time is precious!"

      "Yes," she answered, looking up as from a trance.

      Madam Imbert spoke in a low tone:

      "Tell him to meet you down the lane."

      "Yes," said she, "I will meet you down the lane at two o'clock and take some books from you."

      The peddler left a few novels and walked off. Mrs. Maroney and Madam Imbert walked into the house. Now was the time for Madam Imbert to show her power.

      "Come, Mrs. Maroney, be quick! You must act at once! Get the money for the book-peddler, quick!"

      Mrs. Maroney seemed to act mechanically. Madam Imbert's strong will had asserted a power over her that she could not resist. They went into the cellar accompanied by Josh. and his wife.

      "Dig the money up," commanded Mrs. Maroney still in the same mechanical tone.

      Josh. hesitated.

      "Give me the spade!" said Madam Imbert. "Show me where the money is secreted!"

      Then, turning to Josh. and his wife, she said:

      "You are fools! You would not only ruin Mrs. Maroney, but yourselves. Maroney knows best what is for his interest."

      Mrs. Maroney pointed out the spot where the money was buried. The Madam struck the spade into the ground.

      "Stop, I'll do it!" said Josh.; "if you are bound to make a beggar of yourself it is no fault of mine."

      The money was about eighteen inches under the level of the cellar floor, wrapped up in a piece of oil skin. It was soon unearthed and taken up stairs. Mrs. Maroney said:

      "I will go and get the buggy, or—no! Josh.! you go to Stemples's and get his team; tell him it is for me."

      Josh., without waiting to fill up the hole, started off. Madam Imbert wrapped the money in two newspapers, and when Josh. came with the team, which he soon did, put it into the front part of the buggy and covered it with the apron, and, getting in with Mrs. Maroney, drove down the lane.

      White, when he received the message from Mrs. Maroney, returned to the Rising Sun and reported to me. We (the Vice-President and I) secreted ourselves under some magnolias growing close by the lane, and near where the meeting would take place. At the appointed time the book-peddler was seen by us coming up the lane, and at almost the same moment a buggy came in sight going down. It was a moment of breathless interest to both of us.

      They met almost directly opposite to where we were concealed. Madam Imbert said: "Let us have some books!" The peddler lifted his satchel into the buggy; the Madam hurriedly emptied it of its contents, and holding it open jammed the bundle of money into it and handed it back to the peddler. Not a word more was said. Madam Imbert turned the team around and started the horses on a fast trot toward Jenkintown, while the peddler sweltered along under the broiling sun in the direction of the tavern.

      Madam Imbert drove up to Stemples's, took the books, which were wrapped in papers, to her room, and invited Mrs. Maroney up to СКАЧАТЬ