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CHAPTER XXI.
CURLY JOHN, THE BANK THIEF.
Mike Grinnel's place in Rivington Street was at that time one of those monstrosities which were permitted to exist within the limits of New York City n.o.body knows how. During the day and the early part of the evening it was to all appearances merely an ordinary saloon, and if a stranger were pa.s.sing it he would regard it as a likely place to enter if he required refreshment.
But when the hours deepened into the night, the place gradually a.s.sumed more and more the aspect which might be labeled dangerous. Men and women drifted in together and talked in low tones at tables arranged along the side of the room, and as the time continued toward midnight, and pa.s.sed it, the air of respectability gradually disappeared until it was entirely gone.
By eleven o'clock the place was usually thronged by people who seemed to know each other in a furtive sort of way, and who sometimes would call others by name across the room.
At one o'clock the front doors were closed and locked; the curtains were tightly drawn so that not a ray of light was permitted to escape into the street, blinds were pulled up to make this fact doubly secure, and this was when the place really began to live and thrive in its true character. Then also was when Mike Grinnel himself came out of his sh.e.l.l, and a.s.sumed personal charge of the affairs of the place; for Mike Grinnel had a reputation among the crooks and thieves who were his customers, and if an incipient row started at any time among his guests he had only to look with his frowning brow in their direction to quell it.
The way into this dive of Grinnel's after the legal hours, and when it was supposed to be closed, was, strangely enough, through a house from the other side, and of course it followed that only the initiated--those who were known to the man at the door--could pa.s.s.
When Nick Carter and his first a.s.sistant left the house that particular Sunday night to go to Mike Grinnel's, the princ.i.p.al question was how they were to get inside the place at all.
Nick had no doubt in his mind whatever that if Black Madge were in town that she would be one who would most certainly visit Mike Grinnel's dive Sunday night, for that was the red-letter night of the week at that place among the inhabitants of the underworld.
He knew that she would feel perfectly secure against intervention there.
He knew that she would have perfect confidence in the espionage which Mike Grinnel exercised in his place for the safety of his customers, for it was his boast that no thief or criminal of any sort had ever been arrested in his place and taken from it by the officers.
And, therefore, Nick felt sure that if he could but gain admission and Black Madge were in the city, which he did not doubt, he would find her there.
To enter a place of this kind one must be actually introduced; that is, vouched for by some frequenter of it. It will not suffice for one to apply at such a place, and state merely that he knows so-and-so and is all right; he will be turned down hard. But Nick Carter was never without resource in a matter of this kind, and, therefore, when he left the house with Chick, instead of going directly to Mike Grinnel's they took their way to police headquarters, where, as he knew would be the case, he found the inspector.
"Inspector," he said, "I noticed in the paper yesterday morning that Curly John had been arrested by one of your men and brought to headquarters on suspicion of being connected with that Liverpool bank robbery three months ago."
"That's correct," said the inspector. "Do you know anything about the case?"
"Not a thing in the world," said Nick, laughing; "but I want to use Curly John. I want to use him very badly. I want you to lend him to me for to-night, if you will."
The inspector could only stare his amazement. He had known Nick Carter a good many years, but never before had he received a request of this kind from him.
"I guess you will have to say that again, and say it slow, Nick; I don't think I understand you."
The detective laughed heartily. Then he began at the beginning and told first about the letter he had received from Black Madge containing the threats, and then one by one related the incidents that had happened to him and to his household during the week that was past. In conclusion, he said:
"Now, inspector, I am convinced that if Black Madge is in the city of New York, she is now at this very moment seated at one of the tables at Mike Grinnel's place. I want to go there to find out. If she is there I want to know it. If she is there and I can manage to find out where she goes when she leaves there, that is all I care to know to-night."
"But how can Curly help you?" asked the inspector.
"Curly can help me in this way: I know something about his reputation and his career. I came across him once several years ago in reference to an old case of mine with which he had nothing to do, but concerning which he gave me some valuable information. I found that Curly John was all right at that time, and, as people of his profession regard it, pretty much on the square. I want you, if you will, to ring the bell and order him brought up here and let me talk to him."
"That's easy," said the inspector, and he did as requested.
Five minutes later when Curly John entered the room he paused when he was just inside of the door, and fixed his eyes intently upon Nick Carter, and then, with scarcely a glance at the inspector, who had summoned him, he addressed himself directly to the detective.
"I know you," he said. "I remember you perfectly well, Mr. Carter, and I wouldn't be afraid to bet that it was you that sent for me right now. I hope you've come to get me out, for I give you my word that I know no more about that Liverpool crib-cracking business than you do, and that's what they're holding me for just now."
"Curly," said Nick, "you gave me some a.s.sistance once in a case I had after I a.s.sured you that you would not betray a pal in doing it, and that I would do a certain favor for you afterward. Did I keep my word with you?"
"You kept it for fair, Mr. Carter. I ain't forgot it, neither."
"Well, Curly, I have come here to-night to get you to do another favor for me, but first answer me one question."
"All right, sir. What's that?"
"Do they let you in at Mike Grinnel's Sunday night prayer meetings?"
"They sure do, Mr. Carter."
"If you were at liberty at this minute, isn't that the first place you would point for?"
"That's about the size of it."
"And you would have no trouble in getting inside?"
"Not the least in the world."
"If the inspector will consent to let you go will you take me there--me and this young man beside me, who is my a.s.sistant--on condition that I make you a solemn promise that I will make no arrest while there; that I will in no way interfere with Grinnel's business, or with any of his customers who are there, and that unless you reveal the fact yourself it will never be known that I was inside the place?"
Curly John scratched his head in perplexity.
"That's a pretty big contract you ask of me, Mr. Carter," he said.
"What's the game?"
"The game is, Curly, that I am very anxious to find out if a certain person is in the city. If that person is in the city that person will be at Grinnel's to-night, I know."
Curly scratched his head some more.
"And suppose, Mr. Carter, that person is at Grinnel's to-night, what do you expect to do to that person?"
"To use your own words," replied Nick, "not the least thing in the world."
"Then what do you want to go there for?"
"I have already told you that. I want to find out if that person is in the city."
"Are you giving me this on the square?" asked Curly John.
"Absolutely on the square."
"And you won't make any trouble?"
"Not a particle of trouble of any kind."
"You nor that chap over there who is with you?"
"Neither of us. You have my word for that."