The Twin Ventriloquists: or, Nimble Ike and Jack the Juggler

"In the rear room upstairs are the fellows who robbed the old miser. They are discussing a division of the swag. Now, if you want proof I'll go up the stairs with you and you can overhear their talk and get all the points – get your men located."

The detective's eyes bulged. He, of course, recognized the possibility that Ike was giving him a "steer," and then again it was possible he was giving him the real facts.

"You needn't take my word," said Ike. "All you have to do is listen at the door. They are not looking for eavesdroppers. Make sure of your points, then away with your information, get your aids and capture the whole gang. I'll teach those fellows to give it to me in the neck," concluded our wily hero.

The "snide" and Ike stepped into the hall and noiselessly moved up the stairs, and as they approached the door of the room where the politicians were the "snide" heard the murmur of voices. No ventriloquistic trick was ever played better in imitating the murmur of several voices behind a closed door, and as the "snide" drew close to the door a voice was heard to exclaim:

"Hold on! that is not a square deal."

"What do you want – the earth?" came the retort.

"No, but I want my share of the negotiable bonds," came the answer. "You fellows are taking all the easy things and giving me the registered ones. They're no good, you know, and I want you fellows to remember I fell to that old miser and it was I who put up the job. We made a good haul without any blood-letting. I want a square deal, I do. Everything is hunky; we've given the police a dead steer away and we're all right. Don't you fellows try to rob me, do you hear?"

The "snide" heard and his face became radiant. He stepped away from the door and said to Ike:

"You go away. It's dangerous to be around here."

Little did the speaker know how dangerous it really was. He was destined to experience the full force of the danger in a most remarkable manner a few moments later, for Ike managed to perform a second marvelous ventriloquistic trick – one of the most wonderful of all. He managed to make, seemingly, a woman scream in a shrill tone:

"Look out, in that room! There's a sneak peeping at the door."

The words had hardly left the woman's lips, as it appeared, when the door opened. The "snide" was actually caught with his ear to the keyhole, so suddenly had the door opened. Well, a scene followed. The politicians were really discussing a very important political matter. They looked upon the "snide" as a sneak who was merely seeking for information to steal it, and they were mad. Indeed, there was danger around there just at that moment.

As intimated, the politicians were mad; they believed this "ward heeler," as they mistook the "snide" to be, had gotten on to their whole little affair. They did not stand on ceremony – they just broke loose. They were all really toughs, and the way they went for Mister Snide was lovely to behold, especially had any one been present who really recognized what a mean sneak the "snide" was.

"Let me get at him," cried one politician. No one interfered. He was permitted to get at him and the first blow knocked the "snide" to the landing of the stairs. The second blow was a terrific kick which sent him headlong down the steps. He, fortunately for himself, did not break his neck in his descent, and gained his feet and made a rush into the bar on his way to the door to the street, but he did not get there before one of the politicians was at his heels. He received a kick that lifted him clear off the floor, then another man took a rap at him, and at each kick up he leaped involuntarily; so, with kicks and raps, he was knocked clear out to the street, and there stood the two ventriloquists to see him come forth. Ike expected him, and the young fellow's expectations were not disappointed; a worse laying out no sneak ever received. The man fell helpless on the sidewalk, and when a policeman ran to his aid he told his tale and yelled: "Arrest those men. They are the robbers of the old miser."

The policeman believed the man drunk or crazy, and rapped for assistance, and when his mate joined him they toted him off to the station. All the way the man protested, and when he arrived at the station he told his tale to the sergeant. The latter was bound to give the story his attention. He led the man back to the resort and up to the room. The politicians had reassembled. The sergeant knocked for admission and was let in. Well, a scene followed.

The sergeant knew every man present in the room, knew that none of them were crooks, and he was confirmed in the impression that the man was drunk or crazy. The "snide" was led back to the station house and put in a cell. He yelled and protested, and no wonder. He foamed at the mouth in his excitement. The most partial observer would have counted him crazy.

Ike and Jack, however, had accomplished their purpose. Our hero said:

"The road is clear now; that fellow was hanging around the old miser's house all the time. Now I reckon I can make an entrance and interview the old man."

The two ventriloquists proceeded down to the old house and arrived just in time to meet another embarrassment. A policeman entered the house just as they arrived in sight.

"Hello, Ike," said Jack; "what's that?"

"A disagreeable discovery."

"That fellow is probably going to remain in the house over night."

"It looks so, and yet the papers said the old man had a guard and had declined to go to other quarters."

"We must get rid of that fellow."

"It is possible he will not remain there."

The hour was about eleven o'clock and Jack, after looking at his timepiece, said:

"Possibly he has just entered to see that everything is all right with the old man."

The lads waited around for about an hour, when to our hero's delight he saw the policeman come from the house. The two young men had made a thorough search around the neighborhood and were convinced that there was no one on the watch. After the policeman had been gone some little time Ike bade Jack remain on the watch.

The daring young man then leaped the gate of the old alleyway and passed around to the rear of the house. He saw the glimmer of a light shooting forth from the windows of the room on the second floor. He remained a moment studying the rear of the house, then descended the areaway and in a few moments managed to gain an entrance, although the door was bolted on the inside; but the woodwork had rotted and he easily gained an entrance, as stated. All was cold and damp. As he stepped inside the hallway he drew his mask lantern and glanced around. It was a dreary sight that met his view.

"I reckon," he muttered, "the old man never comes down here and it is a wonder he is alive, living over all this filth and decay."

On tiptoe Ike ascended to the parlor floor. He entered the front parlor, and as he flashed his light around he experienced a shock of surprise. There were articles of great value lying around; marble statues had rolled from their pedestals and had fallen to the floor, and on the walls were very valuable paintings, their frames moldy and the pictures apparently ruined. There was one picture that had been covered, and at a glance our hero discerned that it had been cared for – the only article in the room which had evidently ever been dusted or cleaned.

"A picture of the old fellow's wife," thought Ike, and after a moment he added: "I will have a glance at it."

The young man was doing a nervy piece of business, and yet he was as cool and deliberate as though in his own house. He moved about with great care and in a noiseless manner, and he advanced to the picture, removed the cloth, flashed his light upon it and recoiled as though gazing at an apparition. It was the one great surprise of his life.

There he stood, as he supposed gazing upon a portrait of Sara Sidney, the beautiful girl whom he had served in such a signal manner. He stood gazing in rapt attention, and so engrossed was he that he did not observe a counter-light in the room, nor become aware of the presence of another until he was startled almost to a condition of terror when a voice demanded:

"Who are you, and what do you want here?"

Ike turned and beheld a strange-looking old man standing within a few feet of him. In his hand the old man held a light, and his deep, sunken eyes were illuminated with a strange gleam as their glance rested on the ventriloquist.

"Are you Mr. Ward?"

"I am Mr. Ward," came the answer. "Who are you?"

"Your friend."

The old man chuckled and said:

"You are here to rob me, I suppose; but, Mr. Burglar, there is nothing left for you. The scoundrels who came here before took everything – yes, everything."

"I did not come here to rob – I came here to aid you."

"To aid me?"

"Yes."

"I don't need aid; if I do there is aid at hand."

"You don't understand me."

"Well, let me understand you."

"I came here as your friend."

The old man chuckled again, and said:

"I need no friends. I've lived many years independent of all friendship. But what do you think of that picture?"

There came an eager light in the old man's eyes as he asked the question.

"That picture is a mystery to me."

"A mystery?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I hardly dare tell you."

"Do you know anything about that picture?"

"Shall I speak right out?"

"Certainly."

"I know the original of that picture."

"Young man, you lie, and you need not come here with any such wild story. Hark you, I have but to give an alarm – touch a button – and I will have a whole platoon of police here."

"You do not need the police."

"How do I know?"

"I will convince you."

"You will convince me?"

"I will."

"Do so."

"I repeat, I know the original of that picture."

"Are you a maniac or a rogue?"

"I am neither."

"Let me look in your face."

Ike stood with his face turned toward the strange old man. The latter thrust his light forward and carefully studied the ventriloquist's features.

"You do not look like a rogue or a maniac."

"I am neither."

"Then why did you force yourself into my house?"

"I came here as your friend."

"I need no friends."

"Yes, you need me."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"How is it I need you?"

"I am going to do you a great service."

"You are?"

"I am."

"How?"

"I will recover your bonds and all the property stolen from you."

The old man again laughed in a strange, weird manner, and said:

"That is what they all told me. I have not yet seen my bonds and jewels."

"We will talk about that later on. What I desire to know is, who is the lady whose portrait I see here?"

"What business is it of yours who the lady is?"

"I tell you I know the original."

"Then why do you ask me who she is?"

The question was a cute one.

"There is a mystery here."

"Is there?"

"There is."

The old man appeared to be a clear-headed, nervy individual, although he might be a miser.

"What is the mystery?"

"I said I knew the original of that picture."

"You did."

"I will say I know one for whom that picture might be taken as a portrait."

"You do?"

"I do."

"Who is the person?"

The old man was again all eagerness and attention.

"I will not say yet, but I would like to know who the real original of the picture is."

"I would first like to know who you are and how you dared force an entrance into my house."

"You shall know all about me later on."

"Oh, yes, that is what you said, but it is not satisfactory. You say you know one for whom that picture might be accepted as the portrait?"

"I do."

"The picture is mine."

"I will not dispute that, but I tell you there is a mystery. I can see now that the party I know is not the original of the portrait, but the likeness is very remarkable – yes, wonderful. The party I know could be a twin sister."

"Say, young man, what is it you are trying to accomplish?"

"On my honor, sir, I am telling the truth. Is your real name Ward?"

The old man showed signs of great excitement as he demanded:

"What business is it of yours who I am?"

"Is your real name Sidney?"

The old man uttered a cry, and advancing toward Ike seized his arm and demanded: "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"We had better settle right down to full confidences, Mr. Sidney. I tell you I am your friend."

"Will you explain your words?"

"I will."

"Do so."

"I asked you if your name was Sidney."

"You did."

"I know a young lady named Sidney who could be taken for the original of that picture. I concluded she must be a family connection; indeed, I am in the habit of putting little bits of evidence together and I arrived at a conclusion, following a suspicion aroused by the strange resemblance; that's all. I am telling you the truth."

"You look like an honest youth. Come upstairs with me. We will talk this matter over. My name is Ward; yes, my name is Ward, but I once knew a man named Sidney. He was the friend of my boyhood. I have not seen or heard from him for many, many years."

"Did he go to California?"

"Yes, he went to California. Yes, yes, I remember he did; but come upstairs. I wish to talk to you."

The old man led the way to the room on the second floor, and, remembering what he had seen in the lower part of the house, Ike was surprised to behold the air of comfort and neatness presented in this apartment.

"Sit down," said the old man.

Ike obeyed and the old miser continued in an eager tone:

"Now tell me about this girl who you say is the daughter of my old friend Sidney."

CHAPTER VIII

IKE MAKES A MOST REMARKABLE DISCOVERY AND ALSO PICKS UP CLUES WHICH ENABLE HIM TO START OUT INTELLIGENTLY ON A SHADOW FOR THE BOND THIEVES.

Ike had his own suspicions, but he did not project them. He was going very slow, as he hoped to draw the old man on and force him to a very startling confession. He told the story of Sara Sidney – told it in a straightforward, simple manner. The old man listened attentively and betrayed considerable emotion, and he muttered:

"How unfortunate I have been robbed! How much I might have done for this daughter of my old friend! But alas! I am a poor man now – yes, a poor man."

"All your wealth can be recovered."

"Oh, they all say that."

"Who says so?"

"The detectives who have been here; but they will never recover one dollar. I will never get my property back."

"That is what your niece said," projected Ike suddenly.

The old man almost screamed as he said:

"My niece! What do you mean?"

"I will speak plainly. I cannot be deceived – this man Sidney was more to you than a friend. I recovered the stolen property of Sara Sidney; I will recover your property."

"Who are you, young man?"

"You may call me the devil or Tom Walker if you choose, it makes no difference. I will recover your property, and now I tell you I know your name is Sidney and the girl I know is your niece, and that accounts for the wonderful resemblance to the portrait of your daughter."

The old man glared.

Ike, as our readers will observe, was pressing right ahead in his impressions. He had arrived at a conclusion and he was assuming a tone calculated to force the old man to an admission. He said:

"You need not fear. Your niece is independent; she will not become a burden to you. She is a brave, true, energetic young girl. She has some means – enough to maintain her until she is in a position to support herself by her labor. I tell you, when you see her you will be proud of her."

The old man was very thoughtful for some moments but finally he said:

"Can I trust you, young man?"

"Yes, you can trust me."

"My real name is Sidney. I did have a brother who went to California. This is all very strange. I have not heard from my brother for nearly thirty years. If what you say is true this girl may be my niece. When can I see her?"

"You cannot see her until I have caught the thieves and restored the property or come to you and admit that I have failed."

The old man appeared dazed and Ike said:

"Tell me your story. Yon can trust me."

"I believe I can," said the old man; "I will. I have admitted that my name is Sidney, and that I am a brother of the Sidney who went to California. I went to South America and while there met a young American girl, the daughter of the United States consul. She became my wife and one child was born to us; but alas! my wife died, carried off by fever, ere the child was a year old, and from that moment I devoted my life to my daughter. I am of humble birth, and I set to work to accumulate a great fortune for my child. I brought out masters from Europe to educate her. She was beautiful, amiable, bright and accomplished, and I was happy. But alas! death came stealing along one night and wrapped its cold arms around my child, and I laid her beside her mother. From that moment I lost all ambition, all interest in life. I had heard many years previously that my brother was dead. I had never heard of his marriage and did not suppose he had left a child. Strange fate! I live, but my child is gone; he has gone and his child lives. I converted all my wealth into bonds, money, jewels and securities, and I came home to America. They call me a miser, alas! In my own way, secretly, I have been aiding the poor and needy for twenty-odd years. The portrait you see is a portrait of my child. In the South, you know, girls mature very fast. She was but thirteen when she died. Well, I have had no interest in life. I fear nothing, I have cared for nothing. I have only been waiting for death to come and claim me. His visit has been long delayed and now my wealth is gone. I did not care, but now I do care, for if you are not deceiving me I would have had something for the child of my brother; and you say she resembles the portrait. Well, when my brother and I were boys we greatly resembled each other. And now listen to me: I accept your gage. I will not ask to see my niece until you have made good your promise; either you shall recover my fortune or you shall come to me and say you have failed."

"It will be strange if I ever come to you and say that I have failed. You can trust me. I seek no reward, but I believe I can recover your fortune, and now I have a double motive for doing so."

There came a quick, searching glance to the old man's eyes, but he said nothing until after an interval, when he declared:

"Recover the fortune and you shall not complain of your reward."

"Have you talked much to the detectives?"

"I have not, because until now I was indifferent."

"If I can secure the slightest clue I will promise success. Have you any recollection of the appearance of either of the men?"

"Yes; I had a struggle with them before they chloroformed me."

The old man proceeded and gave quite an accurate description of one of the men.

"This is great!" said Ike, and he asked:

"Where did the struggle take place?"

"Down in my parlor. I heard them down there as I heard you, despite your care, and there I met and fought them until overpowered."

Ike went down to the parlor. He spent one minute gazing at the portrait and then set to work. He had associated so much with detectives he had their methods down to a fine point; and besides, as our readers know, he was naturally a perfect wonder in shrewdness and cunning. He drew his mask lantern and the old man asked:

"Are you a detective?"

"A sort of amateur," came the answer.

Ike got down on the floor, face forward, and flashed the light of his mask lantern over every inch of the carpet, asking questions of the old man as to just where the first grapple commenced, and soon he cried, "Eureka!"

The old man had become eagerly interested.

"What have you found?"

"All I need, added to your description."

Ike had come across several strands of hair. He rose from the floor and held the threads under the full glare of his lantern, and the old man exclaimed:

"I remember; yes, I did grasp one of them by the hair and must have pulled a few locks."

"Hardly a few locks, but enough," said Ike.

The young ventriloquist obtained what he most desired. He had the description, as stated, and he knew the color of the hair of at least one of the robbers. Let him find one of them and he well knew he would not only run down the men but the "swag." He felt quite jubilant, and after a long talk with Mr. Sidney, in which he gave the old gentleman very minute instructions, he passed out the front door, and as he did so a man seized him.

"Hello, young fellow! what are you doing in there?" came the question.

"I am not in there; I am out here," answered Ike coolly, and at the same instant Jack ran up and said:

"Look out for that fellow, Ike. He's a bad one."

"I want you," said the man.

Ike suddenly drew his mask lantern, which he had not extinguished, and flashed the light straight in the fellow's face. The man uttered an oath, drew a revolver and made as if to strike Ike a blow, but instead he received a rap on the head which felled him as though he had been hit with an iron bar. As the man fell Ike leaped over his form and he and Jack sped away. Our hero had reasons for speeding away, for he believed he was on to a great thing.

Once out of sight Jack asked:

"What happened; Ike?"

"Wonders upon wonders, Jack; it's a night of wonders. I can't stop to tell you now; but who is that fellow? You said he was a bad one."

"I'll tell you. While I was waiting for you I saw him and another man come stealthily down the street. I stole behind them and overheard their conversation. They were not looking for you, but some one else. I think when you came forth they mistook you for the man they were looking for."

"They are not officers?"

"No."

"We must trail that fellow. He is probably associated with the robbers."

The two ventriloquists worked a transform and separated, but both were making for the one objective point and both got on to the trail of the man whom Jack had so opportunely knocked over just as he aimed a blow at Ike.

As intimated, they got on the trail of the man and followed him until he met a second man on the Bowery. The latter had come from a saloon – a brilliantly illuminated gin palace. He stood right under the glare of the electric lights and Ike had a clear, full view of him.

"There's our man," said Ike.

"What do you mean, Iky?"

Quickly Ike stated that he had received a clue and that he identified the man standing in the doorway of the gin palace beyond all question as one of the burglars.

"This is great!" said Jack. "Let's close in on him, and I'll try a little hypnotism on him."

"You may have plenty of chance yet for the exercise of your mysterious power, Jack."

We will here state that Jack had given Ike an exhibition of his wondrous gift as a hypnotist. Ike was the greater ventriloquist, but he did not possess the hypnotic power; while Jack possessed it, as the readers of his former adventures as recorded in Number 19 of our series are aware, to a remarkable degree.

Ike was not naturally excitable. He was singularly cold-blooded, but upon discovering his man so soon his blood did course rather rapidly through his veins.

There is one other fact we wish to state: burglars, as a rule, do not leave the great cities. They find them safer hiding-places than anywhere else, despite the great number of detectives hovering around. There are all sorts of burglars – the bunglers and the accomplished chaps who proceed on almost scientific principles. These men are strategic. They study out all their plans weeks in advance. They calculate all their chances, both to accomplish their burglaries and also to prepare for their retreat and hiding. Ike calculated that the men who had robbed Mr. Sidney were accomplished and veteran crooks who would be likely to remain in the city, especially after making such a big haul; and when he secured the specific clue he calculated upon finding his man, but certainly did not hope to drop on him so soon.

"What shall we do?" asked Jack, after a few moments.

"We will follow this fellow. He will go home by and by, and – "