CHAPTER XVII.
JIM CUMMINGS IN CHICAGO—THE SPOTTED HOUSE—SHADOWED BY CHIP—JIM CUMMINGS ARRESTED.
When Jim Cummings, by his bold strike for liberty, escaped the trap set for him, he pushed his horse to its highest speed until he had put miles between himself and the spot where the detectives had made the attempt to capture him.
He saw that Dan was captured, and with Cook also in jail he felt the toils of the law tightening around him. He must get out of the United States. To Canada, Mexico, Brazil, it mattered little, but he must first secure some of the money he had taken from the express car. To go to Kansas City or Leavenworth to raise it was like putting his head into the noose.
Chicago was the only place open for him, and to Chicago he must go as fast as horse and steam could get him there.
While he was thinking of all these things his horse was plunging through the dark over the plain, skirting the timber, dashing through streams of water without staying his speed, and at last the ring of its hoofs striking the steel rail, and the crunching of the gravel informed Jim that he was crossing a railroad track.
He pulled in his panting steed, and, far on the horizon, he saw the approaching head-light of an engine.
In the hurry and confusion incident to his escape, the outlaw had lost his bearings, but knew that this must be the M., T. & K. R. R., and shining over the head-light he saw the Great Dipper circling in the heavens.
The train was, then, a south-bound train, either passenger or freight. Looking south along the track, he spied a small light twinkling through the night; and now, having recovered his reckoning, he surmised it was the water-tank some miles below Blue Jacket.
He must reach that before the train arrived. Putting spurs to his horse, he flew down the track, the gravel flying in all directions, his sure-footed animal keeping the ties, nor did he pull rein or slack his speed until the large tank of the water station rose above him. Jumping from his horse, he walked to the keeper's shanty. The man was awake and trimming his lantern, nor did he exhibit any surprise at the advent of his belated visitor.
"What train is this coming?" asked Jim.
"Galveston express," answered the man.
"Does she take water here?"
"Every time."
"By Jove, that's lucky. I was on my way to Blue Jacket to catch it and got turned around."
"Where's your horse?"
"Out near the tank. I will be back in five days and if you will take care of it I will make it all right for you."
"That's O K. I often do that for the boys; but here's your train."
The long train of cars drew up and came to a standstill as Jim left the shanty. Climbing aboard the smoker he found a seat and was soon on the way to Galveston Arriving there he took a gulf steamer to New Orleans, where he boarded an Illinois Central train and came to Chicago, where he arrived a week after his escape from the detectives.
Late in the evening of the day on which he arrived he boarded a West
Lake street car and jumping off at—Lake street, knocked at the door of
a small frame building over which was the sign "F. Wittrock and Co.,
Hard and Soft Coal."
No lights were visible and for some time no answer came. Finally the noise of shuffling feet were heard and a clear voice inquired:
"Who's there?"
"It is I, be not afraid," answered Cummings.
"Thunder and lightning, it's Fred," exclaimed the voice in accents of great astonishment.
"Well, why the devil don't you let me in, then?" asked Cummings, his mouth close to the keyhole.
"Not the front door, Fred. Go to the corner, then up the cross street and come back through the coal yard."
Cummings did as he was told and entering the yard was met by Weaver, who dragged him into the house, and after carefully closing the door, lit the lamp and said:
"Dan's arrested."
"Tell me something I don't know, you fool."
"So is Cook."
"If you have any news to tell me out with it; if you haven't go get the money. This cursed country is getting too hot for me. I'm off for Brazil."
"The money is safe. Haight will be here soon. You are safe here."
"Don't you be too sure about that. I thought I was safe down at Swanson's ranche, and damn it, two of those Pinkerton detectives ate with me, slept with me and gambled with me. They had their hands on me once but I floored one and got away. Dan, the coward, threw up his hand the first bluff and was walked off with the darbies on him."
"Jim, suppose he should turn informer?"
A terrible frown blackened the outlaw's brow, his eyes became hard and steely, and raising his hand above his head, he said:
"So help me God, I would hunt him up, tear his cowardly heart from his breast and choke him to death with it, if I had to go to prison to do it and was hung for it."
An involuntary shudder passed through Weaver as he heard these fearful words and he hastened to say:
"No danger of Dan's squealing, Fred. He's true blue."
"If he don't give the express robbery away he can easily get out of this other scrape. You see we had a lay to get away with Swanson's money and the two detectives went in with us. That is how they got Dan and nearly captured me. If Dan keeps his mouth shut they can't prove anything against him on account of the Adams Express affair. So, you see, if he is wise he will keep mum."
While the two men were thus conversing Chip and Sam were seated before an open window on the second floor of the house opposite the coal office. The city directory readily gave them the address of Wittrock's coalyard, and securing this room a constant watch had been kept on the spotted house.
Nothing suspicious had been noted during the day; customers had passed in and out, and Sam had even bought a half ton of coal which was carried to his room. The two men who ran the coalyard, whose names were found to be Weaver and Haight, were well spoken of in the neighborhood and did not look to be the sort of stuff out of which train robbers were manufactured.
While buying the coal Sam had purposely called Weaver "Mr. Wittrock."
"That isn't my name," said Weaver, "Me and my pardner bought out
Wittrock last October."
"Excuse me," said Sam; "I saw the name over the door and thought you were the gentleman."
"We don't like to pull down the sign. People know the yard by that name, an' we don't care, so long as they buy the coal."
This was said so frankly and openly that Sam almost believed it to be true. But the case was beginning to be too interesting to allow risks to be taken, so the detectives kept their long and tedious watch night and day. They had failed to see Cummings when he leaped from the car, for a team crossing the track had delayed the car long enough for him to get into the shadows on the other side of the street, so that the detectives little knew that the man they wanted was only just across the street from them.
They recognized Haight when he let himself in with a latch-key, but as this was not unusual, they thought little of it.
When Cummings left the coal office, he passed through the alley, and going south to Randolph street, returned to the hotel for the night.
The next day two of the Pinkerton force relieved Sam and Chip, who immediately went to their room at the Commercial Hotel, where they boarded.
As Chip was eating his supper that evening and glancing over the Evening Journal, a large broad-shouldered man, wearing a heavy mustache, passed the table, and, seating himself at another one, faced the detective.
It was part of Chip's religion never to allow any man to pass him or remain near him without looking at him carefully, so lowering the paper until his eye could see just above the upper edge, he glanced at the new-comer. A thrill like an electric shock passed through him, for in every feature, except the heavy mustache, Chip saw Jim Cummings, the Adams Express robber.
The broad girth of his shoulders, the triangular gold-filling of his front tooth, the peculiar manner of hanging his head slightly on one side as if he were a trifle deaf, all belonged to Jim Cummings, all but the mustache. Was it real or false? If real, the man was not the noted robber, but if false—well, if it were false Chip had a bit of paper in his pocket which would take it off.
He felt in his pocket for the warrant, and to his disgust recollected that Sam had it.
He could do nothing without it.
He timed his supper so nicely with that of the suspected man that they both rose together, Chip passing out first; but going down the stairs he fell back and the electric light revealed to the keen eyes of the detective that the mustache was false.
It WAS the train robber.
Cummings, simply stopping a moment to buy a cigar, walked through the office, then crossed Lake on Dearborn street and walked to Randolph, closely followed by Chip.
A Randolph street car came along and Jim sprang on the front platform, Chip jumping on the rear one. Passing through the car, he opened the front door and stood beside Cummings, who was puffing his cigar, his coat collar pulled up and his fur cap drawn down over his ears.
Pulling a cigar from his pocket, Chip felt for some matches, but apparently not finding any, he asked:
"I beg your pardon, but would you mind giving me some fire?"
Cummings held out his lighted cigar, at the same time darting a searching look at his questioner, but in the handsome, well-dressed, almost dandified young man before him, he failed to recognize the uncouth, grimacing Scip of Swanson's ranche.
The pair rode along together, and after passing Halsted street some distance, Chip saw that he was getting ready to jump off at the next cross street, so, as soon as the car reached the street, Chip stepped off and walked briskly toward Lake street.
Cummings rode to the other crossing and did the same, utterly without any suspicion whatever.
Although Chip walked straight ahead, he kept his eye on the dark figure moving parallel to his course on the other side, and saw it turn abruptly to the left and enter the alley.
Quickening his steps, Chip hurried to the house in which the watch was kept, and bounding up the steps, to his delight, found Sam in the room.
"Cummings is over there," said Chip, excitedly.
"Sure?"
"As certain as I am that I live."
"Come on, then!" and Sam ran down the steps, followed by Chip and the other two detectives.
As they reached the foot of the stairs the door of the coal office opened and three men stepped out on the sidewalk.
"The devil," said Chip, "that is more than I bargained for."
The three men stood a moment conversing, then the detectives heard
Cummings say:
"I'll be back in an hour," as he turned east and walked away.
The other two, Weaver and Haight, turned in the opposite direction and sauntered slowly along.
Turning to the two men who had been sent to relieve them, Chip said:
"Follow those two, and arrest them if possible without any noise; your warrant covers them."
By this time Cummings was some little distance below them, strolling leisurely along, and at the next corner the detectives saw him enter a saloon.
Crossing the street, their revolvers in their side coat-pockets ready for use, Sam and Chip entered the saloon.
Cummings, without the false mustache, which he had either removed or lost (in fact it dropped off as he entered the coalyard) had just ordered a drink as the detectives entered.
Without a second's hesitation Chip stepped up to him, and placing his hand on the train robber's shoulder, said quietly:
"Fred Wittrock, alias Jim Cummings, I want you."
Wittrock sprang back as though he had been shot, and glaring like an enraged lion, seemed about to rush upon the audacious detective.
In a twinkling the cold barrels of two revolvers were leveled at his head and, with the address and skill of a practiced adept, Sam passed his twisted steel wire "come alongs" around the outlaw's wrist, and Jim Cummings' career stopped short. Any attempt at escape was hopeless, and in silent surrender he held out his other hand and Chip snapped the hand-cuffs on him.
Before the people in the saloon had recovered from their astonishment, the detectives had taken desperate prisoner away, and finding a livery stable near drove to the Pinkerton headquarters. Haight and Weaver had not gone a block before the two detectives arrested them without any struggle, so that within one short half hour the three principals of the GREAT ADAMS EXPRESS robbery were placed behind the bars.