"And wins, evidently."

That Wyeth might not gather an adverse opinion of him--or rather, a questionable one, Edwards had informed him that he was connected with a northern philanthropic organization. Wyeth a.s.sumed that he was connected with something of the kind, and that he was actually the recipient of plenty of the dispensation. Every Monday he would go uptown, and return with a roll. Most of this would be spent by the next Monday, which was unusual.

He didn't gamble, but better light will be thrown on this later.

About a year before, there had been committed in Attalia, a most dastardly murder. A man, a Jew he was, had killed a little girl, a gentile. This murder had occasioned more comment in those sections, than had anything in the way of crime for a decade. We stated that the Jew had killed the girl; it should have been said that he was _accused_ of having killed her.

This was the state of affairs in regard to the murder at the time of our story. Notwithstanding the fact that the Jew was accused of the murder, the charge against him, and the public sentiment in particular, had reached a very serious stage. It would have been very serious for any one to be accused of such a crime in those parts, be she gentile, Jewess, or anyone with a white face.

The body of this girl had been found in the bas.e.m.e.nt of a factory, at which she was employed at a very small wage, foully murdered. It was a mystery at first, as to who was the murderer. A Negro had been arrested and charged with the crime. It appeared that he was surely guilty; but he wasn't--at least so it was decided shortly afterwards. It was confidentially whispered about town to this day, and may be for all time, that he was a lucky Negro, too. Because, with the way they treat Negroes accused of doing much less serious things in a part of this country, he was fortunate to have been accused in Attalia, where protection is quite ample now, and not in some of the smaller places--but we are digressing.

Evidently he was not felt to be guilty, and, moreover, since suspicion was quickly diverted to the Jew. And yet he, the Negro, had been discovered in the back yard of the factory, washing a b.l.o.o.d.y shirt. Such incriminating evidence! For some reason, the people could not seem to bring themselves to feel that the Negro had sense enough to kill the girl, had he wished to. He was put through a severe examination of some length, and finally confessed to having helped the real murderer dispose, or try to dispose of the body after it was all over. It was, of course, duly found and as duly buried. It was, thereafter, exhumed two or three times, as evidence for the state. The Jew was discovered acting very peculiarly a few days after the murder. So they had taken him into custody to ascertain the cause of these actions. Accusations followed, and he was in time brought before the high tribunal on a charge of murder, convicted and sentenced to be hanged until dead, however long that might be. The date of execution was set for a day, which happened to be the same day a year later, than that upon which he was supposed to have committed the deed.

Thus our story found it.

Sentencing a man to be hanged, and hanging him, however, are two very different things. Yet the court persisted. It was determined to carry out the decision of the jury of "twelve good men and true,"[A] this Jew, scion of Jacob, of Israel, of Solomon, and Job, and others, had money at his back, plenty of it, as we shall see presently; and they were spending it lavishly, to save his neck, which was long. Perhaps that explains what came to pa.s.s later.

[A] Author's Note: The usual term applied to juries is, "Twelve good men and true."

The counsel for the defense hired a detective, _A Great Detective_. The greatest detective in all the world. No one can deny this, since he said so himself, at least this is how he was quoted by a paper, which, for the purpose of this story, we shall call the "Big Noise." It was a "noise," too. But, to get back to the detective, _The Great Detective_.

The leading papers corroborated the fact that he was the greatest in the world, and so he shall be, in this story, as well. We are compelled to quote the "Big Noise" again. It claimed, very urgently, that these papers were paid to corroborate the detective. So be it.

The leading dailies and the greatest detective in the world got together, with a view to obtaining a new trial for the Jew, after which they hoped, of course, in some subtle manner, to extricate him from his very embarra.s.sing predicament.

The detective did the posing, and he was _some_ poser, and the papers did the rest. The most obstinate proposition which they were up against, was that the people believed the Jew to be guilty, but naturally read the papers.

Now The Great Detective's picture had been seen by almost everybody who read, or ever had read anything, so we must appreciate that he was a familiar figure. But, in addition to what had occurred in regard to the detective, more came to pa.s.s. Pages of the Sunday edition were devoted to his cut, and other pages to his ability as a mystery solver. From the way the papers wrote of him and reproduced his pose, he made Sherlock Holmes, Raffles, a.r.s.ene Lupin, and even Nick Carter, look like thirty cents with the three invisible.

He began, in opening the case, a series of angles. At first, of course, he viewed it from an Attalia angle. Forthwith, after this, he went to Chicago and viewed it from a windy angle. From St. Louis, he viewed it from a "show me" angle; and while he was out that way, he chased across to Kansas City, and saw it from that angle. And 'ere anyone was aware of it, he had crossed the prairies to Denver, and viewed it from a mountain angle. Behold then, upon picking up the morning paper, where the great detective has reached New York, and was viewing the case from that angle; but s.p.a.ce will not permit of recording further these many angles indulged in by _the greatest detective in the world_, for the defendant in the case of the state versus the Jew.

All of these angles were followed with much color by the Attalia papers.

Moreover, papers elsewhere mysteriously took up the Jew's cause, by following the angles of the detective. All except the "Big Noise." It was busy viewing the detective from its angle. But it was not, of course, endowed with such an abundance of readers, therefore, for the time, it was not noticed much. It was later, however.

Now we come to the most extraordinary phase of the case, leaving the prisoner in his cell for the present.

While all this angling was going on, witnesses who had testified for the state, and whose testimony had resulted disasterously for the defendant, began to come up mysteriously, with affidavits to the effect that what they had sworn to was a falsehood, no, a lie! Many of them declared, in these affidavits, that they were inspired to make these statements, that they might face their G.o.d with the truth on their lips! The city became chaotic. No one had even suspected that the city possessed such people.

This renouncing of testimony developed into an almost everyday affair.

"Everybody was doin' it". So it came to pa.s.s, in an incredibly short time, that almost every one who had supplied damaging testimony against the Jew, had renounced it.

The newspapers were the most interesting things to read in Attalia during this spell. But more mysteries followed in due order. Every one who produced, or had produced an affidavit, renouncing his or her previous testimony, became automatically prosperous, no, we'll have to change this statement. They did, and again they didn't. Alas! Some had not received all they had been mysteriously promised, it seems. And still others, unaccustomed to wealth, and feeling that money is rightfully the medium for the good things they had never been able to enjoy, including liquor, proceeded to fulfill this long felt desire. So, many got drunk. And, trust John Barleycorn to do the rest, they imparted secrets to their near friends. And then, of course, the friends imparted such illuminating information to their friends, whereupon it was duly imparted, in time, to the people through the paper.

Truth combined with a conscience, is always a danger, a menace to falsity. And, of course, not every one possesses the strength to stand on a falsehood, therefore--and in an incredibly short time--affidavits began to be voluntarily offered by these many, to the effect that the renunciation was a falsehood; the original testimony was true, quite true. Accompanying many of these latter affidavits, was money.

We are reminded at this point of Judas and the thirty pieces of silver.

Conspicuous throughout the trial, and conducting the prosecution, was one Doray, the solicitor, and he was there, very much so. Doray became quite busy about this time. He had ambition, and was being mentioned for the governorship. So the state, with its many poor people and slim treasury, labored relentlessly in the prosecution, while the purse of the Jew seemed to have no limit.

We return to _The Great Detective_, the greatest one in all the world.

Naturally, when he began, with the reputation he possessed, with the notorious angling, with hundreds of newspapers all over the country supporting him, and from the fact that he had uncovered many dark plots, many people took notice. A half dozen extra editions was the average per day, but some days they reached a dozen, all replete with subtle mystery. The populace lived in an ecstacy of expectation. They were hurdled between so many conflictions, until they knew not what they were expecting. But, as the days went by and the mystery deepened, they glared dry-eyed at the headlines of the many extras, expecting at last that the greatest detective in the world would lead forth a diabolical creature otherwise than the Jew, declaring, and subsequently proving him to be the murderer.

He did, but he was not a man of mystery.

The announcement came in a blazing morning extra. Shops were forgotten, people gathered upon the streets, blocked the corners, and everything became a medley of excitement, as the news became general.

"The real murderer of a little innocent girl has been found!"

The population waited in abated breath. In the order in which he had reported, or as had been reported by the papers, the detective set a day upon which he would point, with the forefinger of his right hand, straight to the murderer.

The day would never come, everybody seemed to feel. All the anxiety attendant during the trial, before as well as after, for it must be understood that the Jew had not been seen to kill the girl, was lived over again during this spell. But at last the mighty day came. It was a dark, drizzly, gloomy, forlorn day. Just the kind for what was now the order in Attalia. On this day, the people now felt, the real murderer would be placed in the lime light. The detective had declared, a few days after he had been retained and put on the case, that the Jew was innocent. Moreover, he declared that the prosecution, abetted by public sentiment, had been affected in its decision, by the worst of all that is inherent in our advanced society, race prejudice. He lied here--and knew it. There is no prejudice in Attalia against any race but one, of which we will pa.s.s. In addition, he flaunted in the face of the people, the idea of perversion on the part of the Jew, of which the latter had been accused. This accusation had been advanced as the only excuse for the murder, of which he stood accused. But the real murderer was that day announced as per reports.

"Jim Dawkins," cried the detective, "killed that girl! So now, free this poor man thou hast persecuted these many months, and hang that murderer, that beast, that pervert, for he is guilty!"

It was some time before the people recovered. Many of them had to pinch themselves to be quite sure they were awake; for it was positively incredible, after all this waiting, after all this angling, after all the mystery, that this detective, the greatest one in all the world, by his own admission and that of the press, should come right back to where the case had begun.

Jim Dawkins was the Negro accused in the first instance.

And now we hear from the "Big Noise"--and it made some noise now.

Moreover, the public, with a relief from their long tension, began to hear it. Its editor had once run for president, on a ticket we cannot recall; moreover, he had the reputation of being opposed to every man elected to anything in the state and the United States. This included the democrats, of whom he, although a southerner, was not one.

The people now bought and read his paper with as much eagerness as they had the others, in the beginning.

_The Great Detective_ was absent for a week following his sensational discovery. (?) Then he returned, but alas! The day of angles had become contagious, as we shall see presently.

Following his return, he happened to go to a nearby town to view the case from that angle. This town happened to have been the home of the murdered girl. So, when the great detective whirled into town, seated in the tonneau of a huge automobile, they proceeded at once to entertain him with true southern chivalry. (?)

A night extra told all about it, before he had returned to Attalia, which was marvelous, when one considers this place was only twenty miles away, and from reports, the car took its highest speed on the return, at least it did in leaving the other town. But, lest we forget, the eggs used at this entertainment could not all have been guaranteed as the freshest. And with a few more words, we leave this story.

Shortly after this, Edwards and Smyles took their leave. Wyeth missed them considerably, for he had grown very fond of them about the office.

When they were far, far away, the mystery connected with their occupation was still unsolved. Then, one day while Sidney was folding up an old newspaper, his eye happened to fall upon an article of two paragraphs. It related to an incident that cleared up the whole thing, and was to the effect that, while doing some sleuthing on the ground floor, Smyles had, after refusing to explain the occasion of his mysterious action, been arrested and locked up for an hour, at the end of which the great detective had come forward and got him out.

"Well, I'll be blowed!" exclaimed Sidney, for it revealed that his two friends were detectives, in the employ of the noted chief, and hired, no doubt, to view the case from a "dark" angle. But the most extraordinary part of it all, was that their names were not Smyles nor Edwards either, but--I guess it doesn't matter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"_Cause n.i.g.g.a's 's Gittin' so Rich_"

In the building to the furthest end from where Wyeth's office was now located, he observed a man one day. He was standing in front of the bank. He was a white man, and was tall and slender, while his complexion was sandy, his hair red and awry. His eyes were keen and piercing. "A collector," thought Sidney, for there were so many about the building, especially on Monday, and this was the day. He lurked in the entry on Tuesday, when Wyeth pa.s.sed that way. "Must be a contractor, the way he is studying the inside of the bank," mumbled Wyeth, as he took the elevator upward.

Wednesday came, gray and gloomy, and then it rained. It was four o'clock and thirty minutes in the afternoon. Sidney pa.s.sed through the entry to the elevator on his way to the office of d.i.c.kson, and again the man stood there. He had drawn no conclusion as to what was the occasion of this presence, when from behind came a sound. He did something else then. So did others about him.