The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1898-01-28
THE DETECTIVE.
*

black, too. And then he takes or his
tall hat, and slows all his traps where
the coat came from. His hat is re-
placed by a glengarry. Then out comes
a great black beard and mustache,
which are carefully adjusted. My yah!
l wouldn't know him again.
Look again; he is examining some
thing in his hand; it shines as he turns
it over-it gives a faint click. click, as
he holds it up. Ha! l thought SO; it
is a pistol. He puts it into his breast,
and then looks about him. l creep
closer to the wall. He does not see
me, although he is coming this way.
He passes me, and walks on. l whis-
tie a tune, and step after him round
the corner. l am coming up to him.
He asks me the time. l tell him, and
ask, Gid gentleman in light suit pass
that way? Yes; he went up yon street
smoking a ciSar-geodnigh sir! Ha!
ha! goodnight! But surely he is fol-
lowing me! Yes, there can be no mis-
take about it. No matter, l will out
wit him. l reach the corner-he is ten
yards behind me, or more. set off at
a run down the street till l reach the
next corner. Round it 1 fly.
A glance backward-he has not en-
tered the street yet. / enter a half
open door. The next minute hear his
steps; he is running for life and death,
one would think. He reaches the cor
ner, too, and stops. He is not yard
from me, and l am grinning at him
through the door, which is about six
inches on~n. He looks about him. He
is at fault. "Blast him." he mutters,
III have him yetv' He sets off at
headlong speed along the street, and
saunter out quietly and follow him at
an easy walk. / arrive at the corner.
Heavens. he is coming down the sect
towards me. Yes, it must be he, al
though his beard and mustache are
replace by carroty whiskers, and he
has pea jacket and jerry hat! By
what trick of sleight-of-hand is this
done? l cannot imagine. 1t must be
he He is filling his pipe. My house
is just in advance; still he follows me.
/ enter the house. Casually he
glances up at the windows. l bolt the
door, l hear him turn into the lane
that goes up alongside the next house.
steal quietly into the front parler, anI
leave the shutters open, and put back
the window fastening. Then l GO up
stairs to the back room. ! light the
candle l don't draw down the blind,
for reasons of my own. One glance at
the lane. l thought so; there he Is,
staring at the house. | can see him;
the lamp is not far off. / draw back
out of sight, and, taking my revolver
out of the drawer, / put fresh cart
ridges therein. and slip it into my
pocket. Then / go to the window
again, with my nightcap in Hr hand.
l stare into the glass while l adjust 1t.
| am full in the glare of the candle
light; | am sure he sees me. Then,
quietly drawing down the blind, l ex-
tinguish the light, and pull it tthe blind)
little on one side to lock out. See!
he is running round to the front again.
steal down stairs; creep into the
parlor. l thought so; some one al the
window. Slowly and silently the sash
is lifted and the blind pushed back; the
next moment a man enters the room.
It is he
He pulls out his pistol, cocks it, and
lays it Oh the table. Then he pekes his
head cut under the blind. and glances
up and down the street. Apparently
satisfied, he withdraws his head, and
| then feels his way to the fireplace: he
is going to strike match.
quietly put out my hand and grip
his pistol. l stealthily draw myself up
and face him. He strikes the silent
match; gradually it brightens up. His
| back is toward me. lie lights a candle
and turns around.
| He does not start, but turns white
! as sheet. l am facing him, covering
him with my revolver and his own
| pistol For a moment we glare at
each other. He mutters, mo firearms.
eh? and | hiss, Surrender" A
moment, and the candlestick is dashed
! in my face. There is a fash. a report
another! He dashes at the window.
Now l see why he left it open. l rush
madly forward. A heavy blow de-
scends on my face. l stagger back
only for a moment | start up and
take down the gun; in an instant l am
standing in the street. He is fifty
yards away. l fire one barrel, then the
neXt-of course, | miss-and there
stand crestfallen at my window,
while the neighbors gather around.
Thieves" says one; ''the ruffians"
cries mother; while a third eyes me
calmly saying, you've missed him"
l never saw him again.-Elmira Tele-