"Be jabers, that's a fat one, indade!" said the woman: "the gintleman has money enough to buy out old Astor and all his kin."
Williams, more intoxicated than I thought at first, seemed to take no heed of this, and after he had managed to fish out of his pocket money enough to pay the old woman, I took up the wallet, and said, "Here, don't leave this; you'll want it."
He looked in amazement, as he started towards me, as he saw me deliberately opening the clasp. There were the self-same initials Purvis had told us of. "I will keep this, Mr. Williams," said I; "this is what I am after.—Old woman, this man is a pickpocket.—Bolt the door!" I exclaimed to my student friend, which he did instantly. "Take charge of Williams while I examine the wallet; and you, old woman, keep quiet; and, Williams, don't you dare to make the least noise, or we'll finish you here."
"KETCH HIM AND HOULD HIM"—WILLIAMS' ARREST.
I made rapid search, and found in the wallet nine hundred and thirty dollars (some of it Kentucky money), a lady's elegant gold enamelled watch, and a chain which could not have cost less than two hundred dollars, but which had been cut in some of the links—evidently a recent prize of Williams. He would never tell where that watch came from; and I advertised "A lady's watch, taken from a pickpocket. The owner can have the same by identifying it. Call at No. — Broadway," for several days, in the papers. But no one ever came to claim it, and I gave it to a lady, who still wears it, subject to the owner's reclamation at any time.
Williams saw that it was all over with him, but he protested that he did not abstract the wallet; that the whole "job" was Ellsworth's; and I was willing to believe this in part, for Ellsworth was the prime roper-in. More anxious to catch Ellsworth than to punish Williams, I agreed that if he would tell me the whole story truly, and where Ellsworth could be found, I would, on finding the latter, let him, Williams, off.
He told me the story in detail. They had taken Purvis, that night, over to a place in Williamsburg, occupied by Ellsworth, and his "family," as he pretended. Purvis was so stupid when they arrived there that the coachman had to assist them to bear him into the house. Of course the process of robbery was easy after that. But not having a good place to keep Purvis, and that matter being dangerous, too, they had hired another coach near morning, and brought him over to New York, Williams coming alone with him. He would not tell me the coachman's name,—the one of the night before,—but said he had "bled" them to the tune of fifty dollars for his services.
He had been over to Williamsburg, and was on his way back, taking with him the money, which he was to divide the next day, at a certain hour, in a place he named in the Bowery, with Ellsworth, who would be there.
I did not credit his story, to be sure; but still I was there duly, and found Williams, who pretended surprise as he came in with an officer (into whose keeping I had given him,—having called him before we left the shop,—on a charge of forgery, not telling him I knew the real state of the case), at not finding Ellsworth up to his appointment. But my story is running into too much detail. Suffice it that we got back to the hotel as speedily as we could, and a more delighted man than was Mr. Purvis, on the recovery of so much of his money, can hardly be imagined. He gave the watch, of course, into my keeping, and in spite of all my protestations, compelled me to receive a much larger sum than would have amply satisfied me.