Instead, however, of calling upon Mr. Miller at once, Manning proposed to shadow the house during the day, in order to see if any one answering Duncan's description should enter or leave the place. This was deemed particularly advisable, as if Mr. Miller was approached at once, his suspicions might be excited, and if Duncan was in the city the alarm could be given, and he could readily make his escape before we could reach him.
No one at all resembling Thomas Duncan, however, made his appearance during that day, and in the evening Manning repaired to the chief's office, as that gentleman had promised to accompany him on his visit to the friendly grocer.
John Miller and Mr. Wallace, the chief of police, were warm friends, and he felt confident that Miller would not tell him an untruth; but it was deemed best to introduce Manning as a friend of Duncan's, from Chicago, who wanted to see him upon a matter of business. Of course, it had not yet reached the public ear that Thomas Duncan was suspected of complicity in the robbery, as we had kept that fact entirely secret, fearing that a divulgence of Edwards' confession would seriously interfere with our search for the missing burglar, and perhaps prevent us from ever apprehending him.
The two men therefore repaired to the store of the grocer, and were fortunate enough to find him at home. He greeted the chief warmly, and acknowledged the introduction of Manning with good-natured heartiness and sincerity. Inviting them into his private office, Mr. Miller requested to know the nature of their call, and Mr. Wallace at once explained to him what had already been agreed upon. Manning further explained that when he left Duncan, that gentleman informed him that he intended coming to Des Moines, and would probably stop with Mr. Miller.
"Has he been here recently?" asked Mr. Wallace.
"Well, I'll tell you," replied Mr. Miller. "More than three weeks ago he was here. It was about midnight, and I had retired to bed. Suddenly I was awakened by a loud ringing at my door-bell. Hastily dressing myself, I went down, and there, to my surprise, stood Tod Duncan. He was so disguised, however, that I did not recognize him until he addressed me and told me who he was. He was attired in a suit of coarse brown ducking, heavy boots, and a slouch hat; around his neck he wore a large red handkerchief, and he looked more like a German tramp than like my old friend. I felt at once that something was wrong, or that he was in some trouble; so I asked him in, and we went to my room. My family were away at the time, and there was no one in the house but myself, and as he looked tired and hungry, I produced what eatables I had in the house, and he made a hearty meal. After he had finished, he turned to me, and laughingly said:
"'The devil himself wouldn't know me in this rig, would he?'
"I told him I thought not, and then asked him what was the cause of his strange disguise and his unexpected appearance in Des Moines. He told me that he had got into some trouble about a game of poker in Leadville, and that he had shot and perhaps killed a notorious gambler in that city. He wished me to help him, as he was hiding from the officers who were after him, until the affair blew over. He seemed particularly anxious that I should help him to get away. Upon asking him how the affair happened he related the following incident to me. It happened that he was playing a game of poker in Leadville, with a notorious and unscrupulous gambler, and that at one time when there was a large amount of money on the table, this gambler deliberately displayed four aces, when Duncan held an ace which had been dealt to him in the first hand. Upon accusing the gambler of attempting to cheat him, that worthy drew a pistol and attempted to intimidate him. He was too quick for his opponent, however, and quick as a flash, he had fired upon him, and the man fell. Hastily gathering up the money that was upon the table, Duncan succeeded in making good his escape from the house, amid a scene of confusion and uproar impossible to describe. He showed me," continued Mr. Miller, "a considerable sum of money, in proof of his assertion, and of course I have no reason to doubt his word. He further informed me that his trunks were in Chicago and that he was desirous of obtaining them. I provided him with pen and paper, and he wrote a letter which purported to be written in St. Louis and addressed to myself, stating that he was in that city, without a dollar, and requesting me to send for his trunks at Chicago, promising to repay me at an early day. I did not understand this proceeding, particularly as after writing this letter, he gave me twenty dollars, to pay for having his trunks sent to Des Moines, and requested me to allow them to remain in my house until he should send for them. That this letter was intended to mislead some one, I have no doubt; but I was at a loss to understand how it could succeed in its purpose if I retained possession of it. At his request then I inclosed his letter to me to the landlady at Chicago, and I know nothing further about it except that Duncan's trunks arrived to-day and are now in my house, awaiting his disposition."
"How long did Duncan remain in town at that time?" asked Manning.
"I think he left the next day," replied Mr. Miller. "He left my house on the following morning at any rate, and I learned afterward that he went away with an old friend of his, who is a brakeman on one of the roads here, on the same day that he left my house."