Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-05-15
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mapping a man to suit detectives

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Warde interrupted him, with a de-
risive laugh:
"It isn't kidnapping my friend; it's
a plain arrest"
"For what?"
Scan you not guess ?"
give done nothing to deserve it.
I've been back in the mountains, min
ing, for month or MORE"
Until three nights ago, when you
stopped at Mingo Junction"
The prisoner started violently.
"Do YOU understand me now?" de-
manded the detective.
"No," hoarsely muttered Steiner.
"Then I will tell you brief story.
Three nights since, Dolphin Garland,
storekeeper at Mingo Junction, was
found murdered and all his money
stolen. His pretty daughter, Teresa,
discovered the tragedy. The last visi-
tor at the store had been E Eric Landor
her lover. The vigilance committee
naturally visited his cabin. They
found package of money belonging
to Garland in his desk. He was ar
rested. He denied his guilt; but bor-
der Justice ia stern. He dies tomorrow
night, unless the real murderer is dis
covered"
"The real murderer - repeated the
prisoner, apprehensively.
ayes. I came there incidentally the
next morning. Landor was an old
schoolmate of mine. became satis-
fed of. his innocence. I started out to
prove it. have succeeded"
Steiner shuddered perceptibly as he
recalled the reputation of the 'detec-
tive for shrewdness and pertinacity in
following up criminal case.
"The men who murdered Dolphin
Garland left clues behind them. The
placing of the money packet in Eric
Landor's desk was f1imsy trick to get
the rival of Dave Brinley, your ac-
complice, out of the way. My friend,
I I'm taking you to see Brinley, as l
promised; but it is at Mingo Junction
you must meet him face to face in the
prisoners dock, and decide which of
you two killed Dolphin Garland, for
you were at Mingo Junction last Sat-
urdsy night"
The prisoner did not speak at once.
His face had grown steadily paler at
the detectives disclosures. His man
acled hand trembled visibly.
"You make bold charge" he gasp
ed, finally. Your proofs ?"
"Will be in order when the time
comes to present them, never fear
You are hard one, Steiner, and when
I incidentally learned you had visited
Brinley's cabin the night of the MUIR
der and bad disappeared as mysterious
ly as you had come, I set out to trace
to your charge the clues left behind
you."
"What clues ?" came in choked as
sents from the prisoners lips.
"There were two assassins. l know
that. One did the deed, the other
watched at the window. In doing 80,
he scraped a small patch of frost
from the panes. He did something
more, he held the red wax candle which
lighted the way to the room where
Dolphin Garland kept his money. The
candle lest drippings ON the floor; :;
that knife which scraped the panes
had peculiar nick in the blade. This
is it,"
The detective had suddenly exhibit
ed the knife he had stolen from Stein
er's pocket in the barroom. .
The light of the lamp in the car
riage revealed the blade with its irrtg-
ular nick, and showed, clinging to the
handle, several small particles of a
light redish color.
The eyes of the prisoner seemed fas-
cinated by the words and actions OF
his captor. He resembled man con-
fronted with surprise he could not
withstand.
"That red wax rubbed from the can
die you used," continued Warde, "is
nothing, you will say. Wax candles
amt so common on the frontier, my
friend, and I traced the candle to the
wake of a miner you attended the
night before the murder, 10 miles from
the junction. I thought the stranger
at the cabin of Brinley was yourself. l
have traced you here. I know it now,
and Brinley's States evidence will
complete the link of proof"
The cowardly traitor !" cried Steiner,
in transport of rage. "Has he turn
ed against me? 1t was him who did
the deed. See here, Albion Warde, l
give in to you. I swear was led to
90 with him when half drunk, and l
only got 20 ounces of the money. I'll
tell the truth if it amt too late, if he
means to let me swing for the affair.""
The detectives eyes cleaned trium-
phantly, but to all outward seeming be
was calm land indifferent-a bearing
which intensified the excitement of his
captive.
"You can do as you like" he said
carelessly.
"Then I'll make clean breast of it.
We did do the deed, but Brinley killed
the stoorkeeper."
Ten miles futher on, at the town of
Warrenville, the detective temporarily
left the driver in charge of the prisoner,