Miss Spear's Bad Shot.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 66, 6 September 1884, Page 5

Miss Spear's Bad Shot.

No doubt ingenuity is the first rudiment that combines with tact and energy to make a good detective. But once in a stretch, "good luck" is cure to gain a supremacy over these three virtues. At all events, there is an episode on record wherein luck not only gained the supremacy, but atoned for the absence of the other three. To be sure, the case was not a complicated one. There was no mystery that called for the keen instinct of an adept at unravelling to ferret out. Instead, it was a most simple chain of circumstances. One Philip Brashear had been suspected of appropriating the funds of his employers, and whilo the firm were busy summing up the total oi their losses, he had decamped, carrying with him money and bonds to the value of half a hundred thousand dollars. A futile search of the city and environs followed ; but to all appearances the culprit had vanished, leaving no traces that might be followed up to the epoch of his apprehension. At least, that was the popular verdict, expressed by every one having a special interest in the affair, with the exception of Mr Araericus Biggerton, Chief of the United American Detectivo Service, whose men had traced Brashear not only to the place ho had adopted in his flight, but to the house where even now he lay waiting lor a favourable opportunity to safely quit the country. Mr Americus Biggerton was himself a diplomat, who, though loving honesty and square dealing much, loved the fabulous possession of Midas more. Hence, when a beggarly pittance of "two hundred dollars, dead or alive," was offered for the apprehension of Braßhcar, Mr Biggerton dilated his widespread nostrils, and whispered he would await a higher fluctuation in the market of awards. So it happoned that one afternoon, as he sat counting over the entries made by his head clerk, Siggins, in his " Docket of Criminalities," the dusty door of his dustier office revolved on its dusty hinges, and, looking up, Mr Biggerton 'spied the well-known form of his nephew, John Liel, standing abashed in the shadowy aperture. " Well, it's you, is it?" quoth Mr Biggerton, ungraciously enough. "Yes, sir." And John Liel walked unsteadily towards him. " I hope you are glad to see me, uncle?" " I can't say that I am," grunted the chief. " I suppose you are out of work again. Idleness has become a chronic malady with you, John." John Liel stood twitching the frayed end of a not immaculate handkerchief through and through his rigid digits. " I hope not, uncle ; leastwise I » « Happily, we don't see our own faults, John. But let me tell you that one of your faults is laziness ; so don't stand on the defensive." " I have not endeavoured to defend myself, nor could I conscientiously do so," with a short, faint laugh. Mr Biggerton replaced his gold bowed glasses, and sat silently looking for a moment or two at his nephew. He was a short, corpulent old fellow, this uncle of John's ; close-shaven, keen-eyed, alert, and dressed with scrupulous care in a suit of shiny black broadcloth. "Well, what are you going to do with yourself ?" he finally interrogated. " I had entertained a fond hope-" 11 And what did you hope ?" " That there might bo something in the service you could offer me." Mr Americus Biggerton let fall his docket of criminalities with something very like a smothered gasp. "You !" " Certainly ; why not ?" " Why not ? For the very sufficient reason that you are not qualified to fill any position beyond the counter of a country shoe shop. It takes a deal more than a good-natured dolt to fulfil the duties required of a detective." "For all that you might put me to the test." Just then a sudden thought revealed itself to Mr Biggerton. " And so I might," he conceded. " I suppose it's agaiust the code of human nature to let one's own flesh and blood starve outright, and I have a kind of halfnotion to try you anyhow. There, theie !" he rejoined cautiously, " don't rush into a vortex of avowals before you are certain of my intentions, which are these : You've heard of Brashear, the clerk who decamped a week or so ago, leaving Killop and Carr a considerable sum the worse for his flight. Well, very confidentially, and strictly between ourselves, the Service has tracked this fellow to a little manufacturing centre in Massachusetts, whero the aforementioned Service intends to hold him until tho reward offered is colossal enough to reward them for their pains. Now, John, hero's your chance. Go up to Beamis Point and keep a clear eye on this fellow ; then when the time arrives to expose him I'll come up and arrest him, and pay you well for your trouble." " But how will I recognise the culprit ? " queried Liel. "Easily enough ; he is your height to a hair's breadth, very dark, and effeminate to the last degree." " And you are certain he is at Beamis Point ? " " Certain as lam of my own existence. There is but one tavern in the place, and at it he is domiciled. It is highly probable that he will be disguised and under an assumed name But you must ferret out his identity ; here is enough money to cover your expenses. In event of failuro I warn you never to come in my way again. Now go." Now, Beamis Point was an aimless province of unfertile soil, somewhere along the Massachusetts coast; of which one predicted at first a scantiness of population, and a general poverty in the way of human comfort. There were precisely seven rambling farm-houses, an equally rambling church, and, more pretentious than the rest, a heap of brick and mortar which was stigmatised, for brevity's sake, "The Tavern." John Liel got to this place on the second morning after his departure from Biggerton's office. Once there, he set about his duties witli all the system and regularity befitting them. Going direct to the tavern, he ordered a room, and while subscribing himself upon the battered register, took occasion to scan the names enrolled thereon. Two names were one jot peculiar ; they were Miss Spear, !New Haven, and Oliver Pierce Brooklyn, He closed the book suddenly when he saw the date subjoining them, Tuesday, April 12. That was the day on which Philip Brashear had come to Beamis Point. John repaired to the dining-room, and the first person to be introduced to him was Mr Oliver Pierce, of Brooklyn. The fellow was manifestly in the last epoch of respectable intoxication ; and as he lolled about the room eating, gesticulating, and talking all in a breath, John had no meagre opportunity to study his rum-blossoming physiognomy. His intuition told him the fellow was the one he sought. His face was covered by a straggling beard of several weeks' growth ; he was quite dark, and John's height " to a hair's breadth." That afternoon John telegraphed Biggerton substantially as follows : Uncle Amerious,— Everything is in excellent order, and aw aiting your pleasure. John. It was twilight when he again entered his room, and scarcely had he done so when he heard some one fumbling with the doorknob. Asecond laterjthe door swung quickly open, and leaning against the panels was a woman. Quite a tall woman she was—certainly several inches above the accepted height of her sex. Her face, outlined by the dense shadow of the hall, was strangely prepossessing; she had full, regular features, a damask rose sort of complexion, and pale grey eyes under dark curling lashes. John was the first to regain his composure. "Is there anything I can do for you ?" At the first sound of his voice she shrank back still

farther in the shadows. She had not seen him until he spoke. "Yes," she articulated faintly, in a velvety contralto voice, "though I should never have intruded had I known you were here. The door of my room has become locked during my absence, and your key and mine are counterparts of each other." Her room lay directly opposite his own, and it was tho work of scarcely a moment to lnsertthe key and turn the lock into its right position. Then, with a faint murmur of thanks, the lady passed within, closing the door behind her, and making of him an impromptu pen on the outer edge of a modern paradise. John felt more interested in his mysterious visitor next morning than he diOin either Brashear or his breakfast. He watched for her until his eyes tired of their vain expectancy; and, despairing at last of seeing her, he questioned mine host about her, and had his trouble for his pains. Mine host knew absolutely nothing beyond the meagre fact that her name was Spear ; j that she came from New Haven; that she paid her bills with uncommon regularity, and kept exclusively to herself. And so things coursed along very pleasantly, until one day over the wires sped the following message :— John Lie],— Will be with you to-morrow. Uncle Americus. The missive set John to thinking, and then to planning. First of all he decided that Miss Spear must not be compromised by bo much as a eight of the affair. He slipped out of his room and along the hall until ho faced the door of the culprit's room. Peeping in hosawthefellowlyingprontupon his bed sleeping off the effects of his spirituous potations. Quick as thought he snatched up the key lying at his feet, and quicker still locked his prey securely within. That done, he went to Miss Spear, and told her everything ; of Brashear's crime, of his flight to Beamis Point, and lastly, of his being now an inmate of the house. He meant to tell her, too, just which inmate he was ; but she did not ask him, and he thought it needless. A transient cloud flitted over Miss Spear's face ; then she paled to the roots of her dark hair. "And you— you have been watching his movements all along ?" " All along." She put her lips together rigidly, as if to stifle an utterance that had risen to them. " And you are coming here to-night to arrest him ?" " Precisely." Miss Spear reached forward, pushed down the window, then crossed the room in a blind, dazed manner, and paused before a table under whose cover an oblong parcel lay hidden. A second later she turned about, retracing her footsteps, her hands at her back. " You shall never live to see Philip Brashear taken !" She sprang suddenly forward, a world of hate in her steely eyes. With one hand she tore the dark strands of hair from her head ; with the other she levelled a weapon at his heart. " You shall never live to arrest me, I swear !" There was a long moment of silence— then a sharp muffled report, and a cloud of vaporous smoke eddied upwards towards the ceiling. Another space of silence ; meantime the smoke of the shot was clearing, and, looking forward, John Liel saw the form of Miss Spear, otherwise Philip Brashear, at his feat, and that of Uncle Americus at his side. " Was it you who fired ?" John Liel inquired, faintly. "Not at all; I merely turned Brashear's weapon against himself ; he is in an eminently agreeable condition now to bo taken back to the city. As for you, John— well, I ain't much on talking, but you're a hero, and we'll settle the rest between ourselves." Without an utterance, John sped along the hall to where the supposed Brashear slept, unconscious of his incarceration. Afterward he learned that he was a confirmed drunkard, who had migrated to Beamis Point simply to finish his existence in a trance of ecstatic collapse. As for the resemblance between himself and , Brashear, it was purely an accidental one. Of course, John prevaricated outrageously in the matter of his encounter with Brashear. It is not on record what his version of tho affair was. No doubt it was absurdly incongruous with the real facts, but it answered the purpose, and the defaulter was sent to Sing Sing, and the reward given to Uncle Americus, who shared it generously with his nephew, and died sounding that young man's praise. — Prize " Tit Bit."