Methods of the Modern Detective Illustrated by a Small Incident.
"I'll follow him to the ends of the earth! He shall not escape me!"
The tall, powerfully built man, attired in a suit of dark blue, who hissed these words through his set teeth, stood in a shadow of a one-story coal house in a dark, noisome, Philadelphia-like alley, and watched with widely staring eyes a figure moving slowly along down the Hong Kong district of Clark street.
The watcher was wide awake, and the saloons had not yet closed for the night.
It was evident he was not a policeman.
Emerging from the alley he followed stealthily the object of his pursuit like a sleuth hound on the track of its prey. Moving along in the shadow of the buildings and halting now and then, but never relaxing for one instant his eager watchfulness, he kept his man in sight for nearly an hour.
Down Clark to Harrison, west on Harrison to the river, across the bridge to Canal, up Canal to Monroe, and westward on that street for many and many a weary block moved this singular—or rather plural—procession.
"He little thinks he is followed," muttered the relentless pursuer. "I'll shadow him to his lair now if it takes till the next centennial!"
At last the man whom he was following halted at a modest dwelling, opened the gate that afforded the entrance to the little yard in front, and as he turned to close it his face, plainly visible in the glare of a street lamp close by, was for one brief moment exposed to the hawk-like gaze of the mysterious pursuer in the dark blue suit, who had crouched in the shadow of a friendly Indian cigar sign across the way. The next instant he had disappeared within the house.
With a smothered cry of exultation the eager watcher took out a note book and pencil and jotted down a memorandum. His fingers trembled with excitement.
"I saw his face!" he said in a hysterical whisper. "I was not mistaken. And now I have his street and number. At last I am on the trail. If he finds out anything about that mysterious disappearance I'll know just where he goes to get it. Ha! At last! At last!"
He was a high-priced detective shadowing a $15-a-week newspaper reporter to see if he could find some clew to the latest mystery that was baffling the entire force.
—Detroit Free Press.