"It was," replied Mrs. Mansfield, sadly. "Murdered beyond all doubt by the husband who drove her mad and made her life a curse."
"And he's the man I'll hang, even if he is my father!" exclaimed Jerry Buck, who, with whitened features and firmly-set teeth, had been listening attentively to the woman's tale.
"See here," he added, stretching out his hand in which a bundle of papers was grasped. "I've been looking at these 'ere while you two have been talking, an' can read well enough to know that they'll give me the grip on him an' his pal."
"Where did you find them?" cried Frank, eagerly.
He had seized the papers from Jerry Buck, and hastily examined them in the light of the burning house from which the flames were now pouring, illuminating the surrounding scene with the brightness of day.
They were small, but well-executed plans of the vaults of the Lispenard Bank, all marked "duplicate," and bearing upon them Elijah Callister's name.
"Where did I find them?" cried the boy. "Why, in the pocket of this here coat to be sure. Come, we must take 'em to the chief of police. If they ain't the fixin' of him what killed my mother an' the feller what's runnin' you down to earth, why, it won't be for want of tryin' on the part of the 'Bats in the Wall'—that's all I've got to say."
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
ELIJAH CALLISTER ADDS STILL ANOTHER CRIME TO THE LIST.