Oscar the Detective | Page 6

a dangerous chap, and one of the most successful eluders the police had ever attempted to run down. Dudie Dunne had performed a great feat and yet he was to secure no public credit for it, for he was a secret special, and never in all his experience had he performed a deed that better earned him his right to be on the secret special force.
"How about the 'swag,' Dunne?"
"I don't expect to get it; but I am going back to look around."
"Better take some one with you."
"Not to-night--no, no."
Dunne returned to the place from which he had yanked his man. He entered by the door which he had left on the swing for the purpose of a second visit. Dunne ascended to the room from which he had carried his prize, and he commenced a search, and no burglar ever moved with greater noiselessness or ease. He was busy fully half an hour, going around with his tiny mask lantern, and finally there came a pleased look to his face. He drew a few instruments from his pocket and set to work, and soon he had removed several bricks from the chimney piece, and finding an aperture thrust in his hand and drew forth some bonds. He recovered all the securities, and about half the cash in bills of large denomination, and having completed his work he stole down the stairs and returned to headquarters, made his report and went off to his room for a few hours of genuine restful sleep.
On the morning following the incidents we have described the gang who had robbed him on the previous day assembled in the barroom. It was about eight o'clock, and as the last two came in they asked the man who was there ahead of them:
"Have you been up to take a peep?"
"No."
The men all laughed and one said:
"So you've heard nothing from our sweet little dude, eh?"
"No."
"Let's go up and take a peep at him and have a little fun; we will stand a heap of 'guying' when he awakes with his roaring headache."
The men with cheerful faces ascended the stairs. They opened the door and peeped in; the first man started back, his face pale, and he exclaimed:
"Great Scott!"
"What's the matter?"
"He's gone."
"Gone!" ejaculated the other two.
"Gone, as sure as guns, and rain storms."
The men passed into the room, then they all laughed.
The fools had not noticed until they commenced to laugh that they had found the door open. They really enjoyed the surprise for a moment until one of them suddenly appeared to fall to a suspicion.
"Hold on, fellows," he cried, "maybe we are laughing too soon. I don't understand this; come to think, if that chappie got out of here he wasn't as big a fool as we thought him."
"Oh, come off."
"I think we'd better go up and see Tommy--hear what he has to say."
The three men ascended to the room where the dude had gone for his game. They found that door open; they peeped in and Tommy was gone. He had disappeared, and they saw the opening where the "swag" had been secured. They looked into each other's faces and one of them said:
"This begins to look serious."
They descended to the barroom. The owner of the place had just appeared.
"Where is Tommy?" they demanded.
"Up in his room, of course."
"Is he?"
"Yes."
"Do you think he's there?"
"He is there."
"He is not."
"What?"
"He is not there."
"Where is he?"
"By all that's strange and miraculous, boys," cried the man who had first shot forth a suspicion, "we have been played. The dude was a 'copper,' and poor Tommy is in harbor at last."
The men sent out and got a paper, and the first headline that met their eyes was:
"A Great Capture--Tom ----, the Worst Thief and Most Dangerous Bank Robber New York has Harbored for Many Years was Captured Last Night by a very Clever Piece of Detective Strategy and is Now at Police Headquarters."
The men trembled and one asked:
"What will we do?"
Another answered:
"I don't think the climate of New York agrees with me at this season of the year."
The others came to the same conclusion, and one said:
"We're in luck if we get away, but there is no time to lose."
The three men quietly glided from the saloon with countenances on which was written all evidences of terror.
CHAPTER III.
A FEW WORDS AS TO THE REAL IDENTITY OF DUDIE DUNNE--THE DETECTIVE STARTS OUT ON A FRESH "LAY," AND AS A CHAPPIE SWEET CLOSES IN ON COMRADE NUMBER TWO.
There was nothing noteworthy in the career of Dudie or rather Oscar Dunne up to the time he entered upon the police force beyond the fact that he was of a very remarkable physical make-up. He was a young man possessed of very delicate features, girlish blue eyes and a clear red and white