Jim Cummings | Page 6

or more had
attacked him. He would have had a cut in the arm, a bruised head or
some such corroborating testimony to show. The fact that he was held
up by a single man goes a good way, in my judgment, to prove him
innocent of any criminal connection with the robbery. We must look
elsewhere for the culprits."
"Had you not better see Fotheringham?"
"Of course I intend doing that. Did you secure the clothing which this
so-called Cummings threw out of the train?"
"Telegrams have been sent out, and I hope to have it sent in by to-
morrow."
"That is good--we may find something which we can grasp. The public
generally have an idea that a detective can make something out of
nothing that the merest film of a clew is all that is necessary with which
to build up a strong substantial edifice of facts. It is only the Messieurs
La Coqs and 'Old Sleuths' of books and illustrated weeklies that are
possessed with the second sight, and can hunt down the shrewdest
criminals, without being bound to such petty things as clews,
circumstantial evidence or witnesses. We American detectives can
generally make 4 by putting 2 and 2 together, but we must have a

starting point, and an old shirt or a pair of stockings, such as this robber
threw away, may contain just what we need."
A knock on the door, and an employee of the office entered.
"Mr. Damsel, the entire road has been carefully searched, and no trace
of the clothing can be found."
"That's bad," said Mr. Pinkerton, "we should have found that."
Mr. Damsel bade the employee to return to the office, and turning to
Mr. Pinkerton, said:
"The case is in your hands. Do what you want, if any man can run that
Cummings down, you can."
"Well, I'll take it. I should advise you first to have Fotheringham
arrested as an accomplice. While I do not think he is one, he may be; at
any rate it will lead the principals in the case to believe we are on the
wrong track, but I must confess there don't seem to be any track at all,
wrong or right."
"I will do that. I will swear out a warrant to-day against him."
Mr. Damsel took his leave, and that night Fotheringham slept behind
iron bars.

CHAPTER IV
.
THE DETECTIVE AND THE MESSENGER.
After Mr. Damsel had left the hotel, Mr. Pinkerton sat in deep thought.
He had carefully re-read Fotheringham's statement, but could find
nothing that could be put out as a tracer; no little straw to tell which
way the wind was blowing.
"Cummings, Cummings, Jim Cummings. By George, that can't be the
Jim Cummings that used to flock with the Jesse James gang. That
Cummings was a gray-haired man, while this Cummings is young,
about 26 years old. Besides he is a much larger than Jesse James' Jim
Cummings. That name is evidently assumed.
"This statement says he was dressed in a good suit of clothes, and wore
a very flashy cravat. Furthermore, he bragged a good deal about what
he would do with the money. Also that he would write a letter to the St.
Louis Globe-Democrat exonerating the messenger. Well, a man who
will brag like that, and wears flashy articles of neck-wear, is just the

man that will talk too much, or make some bad break. If he writes that
letter, he's a goner. There will be something in it that will give me a
hold. The paper, the ink, the hand-writing, the place and time it was
mailed--something that will give him away,"
"I must see this messenger, and I must see him here; alone. He may be
able to give me a little glimmer of light."
To think with "Billy" Pinkerton was to act.
He pressed the annunciator button, and sitting down, wrote a short note
to Mr. Damsel, requesting him to bring Fotheringham with him to his
room.
The bell-boy who answered the call bore the note away with him, and
in a short time, Mr. Pinkerton, looking out of his window, saw Mr.
Damsel in his buggy drive up to the hotel accompanied by a young man,
whom Mr. Pinkerton recognized from the description given him, as the
unfortunate Fotheringham, who had evidently, as yet, not been arrested.
It took but a few moments for Mr. Damsel to reach Room 84, and after
introducing Fotheringham to the detective, left him there.
Fotheringham wore a worried and hunted look. The black rings under
his eyes told of loss of sleep, and his whole demeanor was that of a
discouraged person. Still he bore the keen scrutiny of the detective
without flinching, and looking him squarely in the eye, said:
"Mr.