Fort McAllister

“ The Congress of the Confederate States of America do resolve, That the thanks of Congress are due, and are hereby tendered, to the officers and soldiers engaged in the defense of Fort McAllister, Georgia, on the first of February and third of March last, for the gallantry and endurance with which they successfully resisted the attacks of the ironclad vessels of the enemy. ”

“ The batteries of Maney, Graves, and Porter poured in their fire; the divisions of Pillow and Buckner aided—some regiments at a halt firing, but Buckner's advancing. Forrest's cavalry hovered on the outskirts. Wallace gave the command to fall back. McAllister had not horses left to haul off his three howitzers, and had to leave two. The order did not reach the Eleventh Illinois. The rest of the command fell back in regular order, and the Eleventh and Thirty-first continued fighting. Colonel Logan, of the Thirty-first, was wounded; the lieutenant-colonel was killed. Thirty others were killed. ”

“ They swung out of the square, leaving the bobby standing in the shadow of Pondel's.
"I'll look out for 'em while you're gone," called the latter encouragingly.
They crossed Bond Street, followed Grosvenor Street into Park Lane, and plunging round Hyde Park corner, past the statue to England's greatest soldier, they entered Kingsbridge. McAllister, all awake from his recent experience, saw things that he had never observed before—bedraggled flower-girls in gaudy hats, with heart-rending faces; drunken laborers staggering along upon the arms of sad-featured women ”

“ The noonday sun streamed into the windows and threw into strong relief the muscular figures of the group about him.
"I'm afraid you've been deceived in Murphy," he remarked coolly. "He isn't an engineer at all; he's just an ex-convict."
The Colonel uttered a swift oath and snatched a Colt from an open drawer of the desk. Herbert turned fiercely upon the clubman. Wilkins dropped his crutch.
"What are you giving us!" cried the Colonel.
"I'll leave it to him," added McAllister. "By the way, his name isn't Murphy at all—it's Wilkins—or Welch, if you prefer." ”

“ They could hear a dull murmur of conversation, the cough was repeated, a bench dragged across a floor, some fastening was slowly loosed, and a yellow gleam of light shot up through the shadow as a scuttle opened in the sidewalk. A lean, scrawny figure thrust itself upward, sleepily rubbing its eyes, collarless, its shirt open at the breast, [Pg 189] its hair tousled, coughing. McAllister, now confident that he had the support of his companions, addressed the ghost, in whom he recognized Pedler, the journeyman from behind the curtains. ”

“ Accordingly the appointed hour next day found the clubman waiting impatiently at his rooms, and at two o'clock promptly Mr. Herbert was announced. But McAllister was doomed to disappointment. The visitor was not the Colonel at all, and didn't even have a bullet-hole in his forehead. A short, thick-set man, arrayed carefully in a dark blue overcoat, bowed himself in. ”

“ O Lawd! O—" and he held his sides while McAllister stuck the carnations into the wash-basin.
The gong again, and once more that endless tramp along the hot tiers. The prison grew darker. Gas-jets were lighted here and there, and the air became more and more oppressive. With five o'clock came supper; then the long, weary night.
Next morning the valet seemed nervous and excited, eating little breakfast, and smiling from time to time vaguely to himself. Having fumbled in his pocket, he at last pulled out a dirty pawn-ticket, which he held toward his master. ”

“ Most of these seemed to take a friendly interest in the clubman, a few accosting him by his now familiar alias.
Tom hurried McAllister along a dark corridor, out into a cold court-yard, across the cobblestones into another door, through a hall lighted only by a dim gas-jet, and then up a flight of winding stairs. McAllister's head whirled. Then quickly they were at the top, and in a huge, high-ceiled room crowded with men in civilian dress. On one side, upon a platform, stood a nondescript row of prisoners, at whom the throng upon the floor gazed in silence. ”

“ He opened the door and led the way across the sidewalk to the patrol wagon, which stood backed against the curb.
It was a glorious winter's day. The sharp, frosty air stimulated the clubman's jaded senses and gave him new hope; he felt sure that at headquarters he would find some person to whom he could safely confide the secret of his identity. In about ten minutes the wagon stopped in a narrow street, before an inhospitable-looking building.
"Here's the old place," remarked one of the load cheerfully. "Looks just the same as ever. Mott Street's not a mite different. ”

“ The clubman's face, however, was concealed in shadow from the other.
"You're working for Pondel, aren't you?"
The ghost coughed again, and shivered, although the air was warm.
"Yes," it answered huskily.
"Are you working on some clothes for a gentleman who's sailing on Monday?"
"Yes," it repeated.
"Then don't, any more," chirped McAllister encouragingly. "Those clothes are for me, and I don't want you to work any longer. You ought to be in bed."
"Wotcher givin' us?" grumbled Pedler. "G'wan! Leave us alone!" He started to descend. But the bobby stepped forward. ”

“ Can Savannah, and Charleston, and Wilmington be successfully defended? They may, if they will emulate the example of Vicksburg. If they fall, it will stagger this government—before the peace party in the North can operate on the Government of the United States. But it would not “crush the rebellion.”
January 28th.—The bombardment of Fort McAlister continued five hours yesterday, when the enemy’s boats drew off. The injury to the fort can be repaired in a day. Not a man was killed or a gun dismounted. The injury done the fleet is not known. ”

“ The assembled crowd of lackeys and footmen cheered him mildly as he drove away, but Henry VIII, smoking a large cigar, noticed them not. Neither did he observe a slim young man who darted out from behind a flight of steps and followed the cab, keeping about half a block in the rear. The rain had stopped. The clouds had drawn aside their curtains, and a big friendly moon beamed down on McAllister from an azure sky, bright almost as day. ”

“ The big Vuitton lay at one side, and about it a row of other trunks roughly in a semicircle. The porter made but one step in the desired direction, then jumped as if he had seen a ghost, for a big basket trunk, standing alone upon its end apart, suddenly shook violently, its lock clicked, the cover swung open, and out jumped a slender, sharp-featured young man with a black mustache. It was Barney Conville, although at first McAllister failed to recognize him. ”

“ Open the trunk, or he'll get away!"
"Sit still, and don't get excited!" commanded Barney. "It's all right," he added condescendingly, remembering that McAllister was unfamiliar with such mysteries. "We've got him covered. He couldn't get away to save his neck. An' as for follerin' him, why he'll carry that trunk half over New York before he lands it where it's goin'!"
"All right!" sighed the clubman; "you're the doctor. But it seems to me you're takin' a lot of risk. Your brother officer might lose track of him, or he might drop the trunk somehow, and then where would the jewels be?" ”

“ On either side of the cab he beheld a policeman with a levelled revolver. A mounted officer stood sentinel beside the smoking body of the horse.
[Pg 10] "No tricks, now!" continued the voice. "Pull your feet out of that mess, and keep your hands up! Slip on the nippers, Tom. Better go through him here. They always manage to lose somethin' goin' over."
McAllister wondered where "Over" was. Before he could protest, he was unceremoniously seated upon the body of the dead horse and the officers were going rapidly through his clothes. ”

“ Said the thief had been caught and locked up in a closet, so I thought I'd drop over and see how things stood."
He looked inquiringly at McAllister, significantly at the Governor-General, and then caught sight of Barney.
"Hello, Conville!" he exclaimed. "You on the case? Well, then I'll drop out. Got your man, I see!" He glanced again at the dishevelled scion of nobility before him.
"Everythin's all right," answered the detective with a chuckle. "I guess they was fakin' you round at the house. ”

“ There was a good deal of noise in the cells now, and outside he could hear many feet coming and going. Occasionally a draught of cold air would flow in, and an officer would tramp down the corridor and remove one of the occupants of the row. His watch showed that it was already eight o'clock. He fumbled in his waistcoat-pocket and found a very warped and wrinkled cigar. His match-box supplied the necessary light, and "Chubby" McAllister began to smoke his after-breakfast Havana with appreciation.
"No smoking in the cells!" came the rough voice of the keeper. "Give us that cigar, Welch!" ”

“ McAllister laughed. "I guess your jewelry's all right," said he cheerfully. "Certainly I'll go. Don't worry. I'll have the trunk and the jewels back here inside of fifty minutes. Who's Morton, anyhow?"
"My valet," replied Lord Lyndhurst, lowering his voice, and looking over his shoulder. "You wouldn't recall him. I engaged the man at Kingston on the way out. As a servant I have had absolutely no fault to find at all. You know it's very hard to get a good man to go to the Tropics, but Morton has seemed perfectly contented. ”

“ McAllister had just taken his fifth plunge, and was floating lazily toward the steps, when Tim appeared at the door leading into the dressing-rooms and announced that a party wanted to speak to him on the 'phone, the Lady somebody, evidently a very cantankerous old person, who was in the devil of a hurry, and wouldn't stand no waitin'.
The clubman turned over, sputtered, touched bottom, and arose dripping to his feet. The "old person" on the wire was clearly his aunt, Lady Lyndhurst, and he knew very much better than to irritate her when she was in one of her tantrums. ”

“ It's just as the gentleman s'ys. You don't 'ave to work any more to-night. You can go 'ome."
"I s'y, wotcher givin' us?" repeated the other. "I cawn't go 'ome. Mr. Pondel's horders is to st'y 'ere until the clothes is finished. M'ybe it's as you s'y, but I cawn't go 'ome."
[Pg 190] At this juncture a child began to cry drowsily below, and a woman's voice could be heard striving to comfort it.
"You don't mean you've got a baby down there!" exclaimed McAllister.
"Only little Annie," replied Pedler. "An' the old woman."
"Anyone else?"
"Aggam."
"Let's go down," suggested the bobby. ”

“ Thirty seconds later, McAllister, in sword, doublet, hose, and feathered cap, burst into the waiting-room, carrying an ulster, clearing half its length in six strides, threw himself through the revolving door to the platform, and sprang past the astonished gate-man just as he was sliding-to the gate.
"Hi, there, give us yer ticket!" yelled the man [Pg 93] after the retreating form of Henry VIII, but royalty made no response. ”

“ McAllister had always said the old man was an ass to go lugging 'em off down among the mangoes and land-crabs, but the Governor-General liked to have his lady appear in style at Government House, and took much innocent pleasure in astonishing the natives by the splendor of her adornment. The jewelry, however, was the source of unending annoyance to himself, Sophia, and everybody else, for it was always getting lost, and burglar scares occurred with regularity at the islands. ”

“ The drinks, as you Yankees say, are upon me!"
"By the way," he added to McCarthy, as McAllister filled the glasses, "would you be so obliging as to describe the individual who so thought [Pg 140] fully notified you in regard to the loss of the jewelry?"
"Rather stout, well-dressed man, fat face, gray eyes," answered McCarthy, lighting a cigar. "Looked somethin' like this gentleman here," indicating the clubman. "Spoke with a kind of English accent. Nice appearin' feller, all right."
"By George! Wilkins!" ejaculated McAllister.
"Damn!" exploded Uncle Basil.
"The nerve of him!" muttered Barney. ”

“ The train emerged from the tunnel, and McAllister observed that there were other friends of his on the car, bound evidently for the same destination. Well, anything was better than having that confounded story about the Tombs get around. He had often thought that if it ever did he would go abroad to live. He couldn't stand ridicule. His dignity was his chief asset. Nothing so effectually, as McAllister well knew, conceals the absence of brains. But could he ever in the wide, wide world work off the detective as a baron? ”

“ McAllister distrusted, feared, relied upon him.
The clubman wiped his monocle and glanced out through the plate-glass window. Marlborough Square was flooded with the soft sunshine of the autumn afternoon. Hardly a pedestrian violated the eminently aristocratic silence of St. Timothy's.
"Very thoughtful of you, I'm sure," he replied, not grudging Pondel the extra two guineas which he very well knew the other invariably charged for these little favors. It were cheap at twice the money to feel so much a gentleman.
"But this is Saturday, and it's five o'clock now. ”

“ McAllister, terribly embarrassed, got up and stepped to the window. The coffee had been execrable, but a benign influence animated him. Down the slope toward the gently flowing Penobscot little Abby was leading Wilkins by the hand. The boy-horse kicked his heels in a daisy-flecked pasture beyond the barn.
"What did you say the farm was worth?" asked the clubman.
"There's a hundred and eighty-one acres o' woodland, and the cleared land just makes two hundred. It ought to be worth eighteen hundred dollars."
"I know a man who wants a farm. ”