"This morning Mrs. Rachel Mack, an old woman over seventy years of age, living in an upper room at No. 174 St. Mark's Place, was found insensible in her room, as the result of an attack made by some person unknown. When found she seemed very much frightened and was unable to give a coherent account of what had happened.
"From marks upon her throat it was clear that her assailant had nearly strangled her. His intention was obvious. Though living in a poor room amid squalid surroundings, neighbors testified that Mrs. Mack is comparatively rich, being in fact a female miser, and this was doubtless known to her assailant. The old woman testified that she kept one hundred dollars in bills in the bureau drawer. This sum was missing, having evidently been taken by the person who attacked her.
"She was not in a condition to throw much light upon the affair, being dazed and confused. When she recovers from her temporary stupefaction she may be able to give the police a clew that will lead to the arrest of the man who robbed her."
When Mark read this paragraph he decided at once that Jack Minton, Mrs. Mack's nephew, was the old woman's assailant. Jack had evidently left the city by the first outgoing train, considering that at Niagara he would be safe. So indeed he might have been but for the chance that threw Mark and himself together. So it happened that the telegraph boy held in his hand the clew to the mysterious attack. In his hand probably lay the liberty of Minton.
What should he do?
While Mark was not especially fond of the old woman, he felt indignant with her burly nephew for attacking her, and was clearly of the opinion that he ought to be punished. After a little consideration he decided to call at the office of the local police and put the matter in their hands.
He inquired the way to the police office. A pleasant-looking man in the uniform of a sergeant was on duty.
"Well, young man, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Please read this paragraph, sir, and then I will tell you."
The sergeant read the newspaper notice attentively.
"Well?" he said inquiringly.
"The man who I think committed the assault is in a saloon only a quarter of a mile distant."
"Who is it?"
"A nephew of the old lady."
"But what makes you think he is the guilty party?"
"He has once before visited Mrs. Mack, and tried to extort money from her."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I live in the same house with Mrs. Mack. She occupies the room directly over where my mother and myself live."
"Then you live in New York?"
"Yes, sir."
"How do you happen to be here?"
"I came on business for a New York jeweler."
"What is the name of the party you suspect?"
"Jack Minton."
"Do you know anything of his character or antecedents?"
"He is a criminal. He has been confined at Sing Sing prison for a term of years."
"That alone is a ground of suspicion. Now how do you know he is here?"
"I met him less than an hour since."
"Did you speak to him?"
"Yes."
"State the particulars of your interview."
"He recognized me and invited me into a saloon to take a drink."
"And you accepted?"
"Yes, sir."
"I hardly approve of a boy of your age accepting such an invitation."
"I only drank a glass of sarsaparilla."
"I am glad to hear it. I have a son about your age, and I should be sorry to have him drink whisky."
"There is no danger of my doing that," said Mark quietly. "I have a good mother. For her sake, if not for my own, I would not drink liquor."
"That does you credit. Now as to your information it may prove important. Have you anything to corroborate your suspicion?"
"Yes, sir. Jack Minton seemed to have plenty of money. When he paid the barkeeper for our drinks I saw him pull out a roll of bills. When he was in New York he had no money at all, and succeeded in obtaining only twenty-five cents from his aunt."
"This is an important bit of information. I could order the arrest of Minton, however, on your information without orders from New York. I will telegraph to Inspector Byrnes, and will act in accordance with any orders I may receive from him."
"Shall you need to see me again?"
"Give me your name and address and I will communicate with you if necessary."
"My name is Mark Mason, and I am staying at the International Hotel."
"If convenient, come here in about two hours."
"All right, sir."
Two hours later Mark returned to the police station.
"Oh, here you are!" said the sergeant with a friendly nod. "Well, I have heard from New York."
"Have you, sir?" asked Mark eagerly. "From Inspector Byrnes?"
"Yes."
"What does he say?"
"Here is his telegram."
Mark took it in his hand and read these words:
"Hold the suspected party. Ask the boy to remain. Will send officer by next train.
"Byrnes."
"You see that you are requested to remain. Can you do so?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am glad of it, as your testimony will be important. Now I will send a couple of officers with you to the saloon that you may identify Minton. We don't want to make any mistake."
"All right, sir."
Of course there was a chance that Minton might have left the saloon, or been turned out by the proprietor. But fortunately he was so stupefied that the latter had put him in an inner room, and kept him there till he was in a better condition to move.
By direction of the officers Mark entered the saloon alone.
He did not wish to excite suspicion, and therefore going up to the bar ordered a glass of lemon soda.
While he was drinking it he asked: "Is the man I came in with a little while ago still here?"
"Yes, and I wish you would get him out."
"Where is he?"
"Inside. He has been snoring till my regular customers asked me who I had in there."
"Very well. If you will show me where he is I will get him out for you."
The barkeeper opened a door leading to an inner room. On a settee lay Jack Minton breathing heavily. His eyes were closed and he was quite unconscious of his position.
"I don't believe you can stir him," said the barkeeper.
"I will call a friend then."
Mark went to the door and beckoned to the two officers.
When they came in the barkeeper looked dismayed.
"Am I in trouble?" he asked.
"No, but we want the man."
"What has he done?"
"Committed a murderous assault on a party in New York."
"Well, he looks as if he were capable of it. You can take him. I shall offer no resistance."
One of the officers went forward and shook Jack Minton vigorously.
"Wha's the matter?" muttered Jack, not opening his eyes.
"Wake up and see."
"I'm sleepy. Le' me alone!" hiccoughed Jack.
"Give a hand here," said the officer, signaling to his companion.
With no gentle hand they pulled Jack from the settee, and stood him up on his feet.
Then for the first time he opened his eyes, and stupefied as he was, he realized that he was in the hands of policemen.
"Wha's all this?" he muttered. "What have I done?"
"You're wanted in New York."
"New York? Never was there in my life."
"Do you know an old lady named Mack?"
"I—I didn't do it. I tell you I didn't do it. It was somebody else."
Mark and the officers looked at each other significantly. The drunken man had unintentionally given himself away. Just then his glance fell on Mark.
"It's the kid," he said. "What's all this mean, kid?"
"I'll tell you, Mr. Minton. Your aunt, Mrs. Mack, has been attacked and robbed."
"Is she—dead?" asked Jack eagerly.
"No."
"She is my aunt. If she dies I'll get all her money. Take me to a good hotel. I'm sleepy."
It was clear that Jack did not fully realize the situation. Next morning, however, when the two New York officers arrived, he realized it fully, and charged Mark with betraying him. They went to New York in the same train, Jack wearing handcuffs.