Where could the scoundrels have taken him? O, they must have dropped into one of the coaches standing at all hours of night near the hotel; that was my solution of the matter, and I knew it would be folly to attempt to follow them farther; and I had nothing to do but to withdraw to my rooms and go to bed, and await the issue—clew to which I felt sure to get next day.
I took the night clerk into my confidence sufficiently to tell him that I suspected Purvis would be victimized, lose his money, and perhaps his life; but conjured him to keep still, if he should chance to return before morning; watch those who might come with him, and be sure to get the number of the coach and name of the driver, if he should be brought back in a carriage, and then find out if and how he had been "played with," and to send me word: all of which he promised to do, entering with spirit into the enterprise. I went home, feeling sure that the clerk would give me an intelligent report if anything wrong happened.
Next morning, about seven o'clock, I was awakened at my rooms by the clerk, who told me that, an hour before, Purvis had been pitched into the entrance way of the hotel, in a state of stupidity so great that, after a half hour's attempt to arouse him, they had sent for a doctor; that instantly on hearing the noise of his advent, he had rushed to the door, only to see a tall man running down street, while a coach, at some distance off, was driving rapidly up; but whether the coach had any connection with the matter he thought was doubtful. But he had examined Purvis's clothes, which were much stained and soiled, and found a cut in the right side, over his wallet pocket, but "not large enough to let out much of a purse," he said. As the wallet was large, I fancied that this cut had been made, possibly, as they left the gaming-rooms, and not succeeding with that, had taken Purvis away to "finish" him,—which was doubtless the case.
I dressed myself rapidly as possible, and hurried to the hotel. Purvis had been carried to his room; and a doctor and his student, a tall, good-looking, sympathetic fellow, were attending him. The doctor administered some medicines as well as he could, and then performed some quite vigorous manipulations of Purvis's body. The student said that he was a native of Louisville, and knew Purvis's family very well, and that he'd give five hundred dollars himself for the detection of the scamps who had ill treated Purvis. He warmed up to great height on the occasion, in true Southern style, generous and ardent. I took a great fancy to him, and when the doctor left urged the student to remain, which he gladly did. We watched by Purvis's side for an hour and a half before he sufficiently recovered to recognize his Louisville friend, and to answer me as to how much he had lost,—which was what I most desired to know. Where he had been he had no memory of. All was a blank to him; but he knew that the evening before he had a thousand and sixty dollars with him—a thousand in his wallet, in the side coat pocket, and the sixty in various pockets. He had paid a bill a day before for parties in Louisville, and had so much left, only about half of which belonged to him, the remainder belonged to the Louisville parties; "which makes the matter a heap worse," as he said.
When I had learned so much, I set about laying my plans, within myself, for catching Ellsworth and Williams. I had no doubt that they were still in the city, so secret had been their operations, as they probably supposed; and thinking I might need help, took into my counsels, as far as I thought best, my young friend, the stalwart student. He was all on fire for the work, if we should chance to come across the enemy; and we started forth, he to arm himself at his rooms, I to prepare myself, and we to "rendezvous" at the St. Nicholas in an hour.
Coming together, I bethought me that perhaps Purvis's wallet might have some private mark by which it might be identified; and we went up to his room to inquire, and learned that the wallet was the gift of his brother, and bore, under the principal clasp, in faded gilding, the letters, "C. H. P., L'ville." The letters were quite obscure now, he said. And we started on our search. I fancied I could readily find Williams's lodgings, and that he would likely be there, in a state of more or less sleepiness, and his compeer Ellsworth with him. But I had counted without my host that day; and though we were constantly going from point to point, in our investigations, nothing had we learned when nightfall came, and we were very weary. Passing up Roosevelt Street, having had occasion to go down to the Williamsburg Ferry, a tall man brushed rapidly by us, whom I at once discovered to be Williams, who suddenly dropped into a little filthy cellar oyster saloon, and we followed. Williams had taken a seat at the remote corner of the dirty room, and called for a stew. He looked haggard, as if he had, not long ago, been on a tremendous spree. We called for oysters roasted in shell, as likely to be the most cleanly in that dirty crib.
Williams was quite "nervous," and spilled the broth over himself considerably, and I half conjectured that he, too, had been drugged. I knew he must have taken the wallet, and that perhaps he had it about him then; but I had no warrant to arrest him on the spot, but must follow him farther. He arose, having finished his meal, and started straight for the door, and opening it, was going out, when the dirty Irish woman who kept the shop exclaimed, "Look here, mistur, is that the way gintlemens trates ladies? Don't yer pay for yer vittals when yer takes 'em?"
Williams, who hardly knew what he was about, had not, I presume, intended to "beat" the woman (to use the slang phrase for cheat), but he was maddened by the woman's gross manner, and turned upon her with an oath.
"Be jabers," screamed the woman! "Gintlemen," turning to us, "will yees see a poor honest woman, so there!" (the tears coming into her eyes) "chated by the likes o' that dirthy blaggard? Ketch him, and hould him!" (flourishing a big spoon, like a sword, in air).
My impulsive student friend needed no more encouragement, and quickly catching Williams in his brawny arms, exclaimed, "Here, you scamp! pay this woman before you go, or you'll stay here all night," pulling him at the same time up to the little dirty counter, behind which the woman stood. Half drunk, Williams, finding himself in a strong man's grasp, was instantly quiet, and began fumbling for his money. In his search he pulled out a silk sash—as it proved, a stolen one at that—from his inner side coat pocket, when out tumbled a plethoric wallet with it.