Looking down, the gentleman saw a small, ragged urchin standing near.
"It is yourn--10 cents, please."
The boy held out a yellow envelope, on which was scrawled the name
"Harper Elliston."
The gentleman dropped the required bit of silver into the boy's hand
with the air of a king, and then tore open the envelope.
"MR. ELLISTON: Meet me at Room 14, Number 388 Blank street, at seven
this evening, SHARP. Business of importance.
"B."
The contents of the envelope puzzled Mr. Elliston, who had been but
ten days in New York since his return from the West. He had several
acquaintances whose names might with appropriateness be signed B. "I
don't think there'll be any harm in meeting Mr. B. at the place
mentioned. It may be of importance, as he says. If it should be a trap
set by Dyke Darrel--but, pshaw! that man is dead. I had it from the
lips of Martin Skidway, and he knew whereof he spoke. I will call at
388, let the consequences be what they may." Thus decided a cunning
villain, and in so doing went to his own doom.
Ten days had Dyke Darrel and his friend Bernard searched the city of
New York ere they found their prey. Once found, the detective resolved
upon a novel manner of procedure for his capture.
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