CHAPTER III.
PINKERTON TO THE RESCUE.
The next day the country knew of the robbery. Newspapers in every cityhad huge head lines, telling the story in the most graphic style.
JESSE JAMES OUTDONE! The Adams Express Company ROBBED OF $100,000!
THE EXPRESS MESSENGER FOUND GAGGED AND BOUND TO HIS OWN SAFE--THEROBBER ESCAPES--ABSOLUTELY NO CLEWS--PINKERTON TO THE RESCUE!
Mr. Damsel, the superintendent of the St. Louis branch of the AdamsExpress Company, was pacing anxiously up and down his private office.Fotheringham was relating his exciting experience, which a stenographerimmediately took down in shorthand. At frequent intervals Mr. Damselwould ask a searching question, to which the messenger replied in astraightforward manner and without hesitation. It was a trying ordealto him. Innocent as he was, his own testimony was against him. He knewit and felt it, but nothing that he could do or say would lighten theweight of the damaging evidence. He could but tell the facts and awaitdevelopments. When he was through Mr. Damsel left him in the office,and immediately telegraphed to every station between Pacific and St.Louis to look for the linen and underclothing which the robbers hadthrown from the car. The wires were working in all directions, giving afull description of Cummings and such other information as would leadto his discovery.
Local detectives were closeted with Mr. Damsel all day, but so shrewdlyand cunningly had the express robber covered his tracks, that nothingbut the bare description of the man could be used as a clew.
Fotheringham was put through the "sweating process" time and again,but, though he gave the most minute and detailed account of the affair,the detectives could find nothing to help them.
That Fotheringham "stood in" with the robber was the universal theory.The story of the letter and order from Mr. Barrett was received withderision and suspicion.
Mr. Damsel himself was almost confident that his employee had a hand inthe robbery. It was a long and anxious day, and as it wore along and nonew developments turned up, Mr. Damsel became more anxious andtroubled: $100,000 is a large sum and the Adams Express Company had areputation at stake. What was to be done?
Almost instantly the answer came: telegraph for Pinkerton.
The telegram was sent, and when William Pinkerton wired back that hewould come at once. Mr. Damsel felt his load of responsibility begin togrow lighter, and he waited impatiently for the morning to come.
The next morning about 10 o'clock Mr. Damsel received a note, signed"Pinkerton," requesting him to call at room 84 of the Southern Hotel.He went at once. A pleasant-faced gentleman, with a heavy mustache andkeen eyes, greeted him, and Mr. Damsel was shaking hands with thefamous detective, on whose shoulders had fallen the mantle of hisfather, Allan Pinkerton, probably the finest detective the world hasever seen.
Mr. Damsel had his stenographer's notes, which had been transcribed onthe type-writer, and Mr. Pinkerton carefully and slowly read every word.
"What sort of a man is this Fotheringham?"
"He is a large, well built, and I should say, muscular young fellow.Has always been reliable before, and has been with us some years."
"Has he ever been arrested before?"
"He says twice. Once for shooting off a gun on Sunday, and again forknocking a man down for insulting a lady."
"You think he is guilty--that is, you think he had a hand in therobbery?"
"Mr. Pinkerton, I regret to say I do. It doesn't seem probable that astrong, hearty man would allow another man to disarm him, gag him, tiehim hand and foot, get away with $100,000, and all that without adesperate struggle, and he hasn't the sign of a scratch or bruise onhim."
"N-n-no, it doesn't. Still it could be done. You have him under arrest,then."
"Not exactly. He is in my office now, and apparently has no thought oftrying to escape."
"Well, Mr. Damsel, I am inclined to think that this man Fotheringhamknows no more of this robbery than he has told you. If he is incollusion with the robber, or robbers--for I think that more than onehad to do with it--he would have made up a story in which two or morehad attacked him. He would have had a cut in the arm, a bruised head orsome such corroborating testimony to show. The fact that he was held upby a single man goes a good way, in my judgment, to prove him innocentof any criminal connection with the robbery. We must look elsewhere forthe culprits."
"Had you not better see Fotheringham?"
"Of course I intend doing that. Did you secure the clothing which thisso-called Cummings threw out of the train?"
"Telegrams have been sent out, and I hope to have it sent in byto-morrow."
"That is good--we may find something which we can grasp. The publicgenerally have an idea that a detective can make something out ofnothing that the merest film of a clew is all that is necessary withwhich to build up a strong substantial edifice of facts. It is only theMessieurs La Coqs and 'Old Sleuths' of books and illustrated weekliesthat are possessed with the second sight, and can hunt down theshrewdest criminals, without being bound to such petty things as clews,circumstantial evidence or witnesses. We American detectives cangenerally make 4 by putting 2 and 2 together, but we must have astarting point, and an old shirt or a pair of stockings, such as thisrobber 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 traceof 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 toMr. Pinkerton, said:
"The case is in your hands. Do what you want, if any man can run thatCummings down, you can."
"Well, I'll take it. I should advise you first to have Fotheringhamarrested 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 areon the wrong track, but I must confess there don't seem to be any trackat 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 behindiron bars.