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In the Depths of the Dark Continent; or, The Vengeance of Van Vincent, Page 2

Cornelius Shea


  CHAPTER II.

  A PLUCKY CHASE.

  As Van Vincent's startling words rang out a low murmur of surprise camefrom the assemblage.

  Not one offered to make a move until the lawyer stepped quickly forward,and seizing the boy by the shoulder, pulled him away from John Moreland,whose face had turned the color of ashes.

  Van pushed the lawyer away from him rather roughly.

  "I registered a vow to hunt the murderer down," said he in the sameclear voice, "but did not expect to find him so quick. There he standsbefore us all. What have you to say against the charge, Doc Clancy?"

  The boy had no sooner uttered the name of Doc Clancy than, quick as aflash, John Moreland rushed from the room.

  His action was so sudden no one could intercept him.

  "That proves his guilt," cried Van, now in a high pitch of excitement."I am going after him, and will not return until I have caught him andbrought him to justice!"

  Seizing his hat, Van left the room and dashed outside after the accusedmurderer.

  He beheld him running across a field in the direction of the railwaystation.

  Van glanced at his watch.

  A train for New York was due in three minutes, and he knew full wellthat a good runner could just about reach the depot in that time.

  And the villain had a good three hundred yards' start of him!

  Van Vincent was an excellent runner, but, strive as he might, he couldnot gain upon the fleeing stranger.

  Over fences and ditches went the pursued and pursuer, until the broadlane leading to the station was reached.

  Van heard the shrill whistle of a locomotive, and his heart sank withinhim.

  He knew that the train was coming.

  It reached the depot just as John Moreland came to the track.

  The villain knew that he would not have time enough to reach theplatform to board the train, so he clambered upon the last car from theground.

  The train stopped about half a minute, which gave Van time to get withina hundred feet of it before it started.

  But he was too late.

  The bell rang, and away went the train, with John Moreland standing onthe platform of the rear car, shaking his fist at Van in a derisivemanner.

  Van stood still in his tracks until the train had disappeared fromsight, and then, without answering the station master's query as to whatthe matter was, started slowly back to the house where he had lived forso many years.

  When he reached it he found no one there but Ben, the old servant, andto him he stated that he was going away.

  Van had about four hundred dollars that he had saved, and he at once gotthis and placed it in a stanch, leather pocketbook, which he put in theinside pocket of his vest.

  He next packed a few things in a satchel, and then set out slowly forthe depot.

  Another train would be along in about thirty-five minutes, which wouldbring him to New York one hour behind the man he was chasing.

  As Van walked along thinking over the general appearance of DocClancy--for he was sure that John Moreland was no other than he--itoccurred to him that the man had some of the characteristics of a seamanabout him.

  This gave the plucky boy an idea.

  If Doc Clancy really was a follower of the sea, would he not most likelyship aboard some vessel to make his escape? He had been publicly brandedas a murderer, and his action in fleeing from his accuser was prettygood proof that he was guilty of the charge.

  This was the way Van reasoned, and he concluded to make his way to theshipping district as soon as he reached New York.

  He reached the depot and purchased his ticket, and the train came alonga few minutes later and whirled him toward his destination.

  Van was not playing the part of an amateur detective because he had anyparticular hankering after that profession, but because he had made asolemn vow to hunt down the murderer of his uncle.

  He would try and locate his man, and then call the New York police tohis aid.

  The distance by rail to New York was not great, and an hour later ourhero was walking down West Street in the busy metropolis.

  He had often been to the city, and consequently knew something about it.

  The boy did not stop until he reached the South Ferry, and then, actingon an uncontrollable impulse, he boarded a South Street car and took uphis position on the platform with the driver.

  He had not rode over ten blocks when he gave such a start that the cardriver made an involuntary movement to catch him, thinking he was goingto fall from the platform.

  But Van did not notice him. The boy's eyes were riveted upon the back ofa man who was just entering the door of a saloon.

  As he passed through the doorway the object of his gaze turned his headaround for a single instant.

  "That's the murderer!" exclaimed Van, and with a single bound he sprangfrom the car platform into the street, leaving the driver staring at hisretreating form in blank amazement.

  Van was satisfied that the man he saw was Doc Clancy, alias JohnMoreland. He had the features and general appearance of the villainstamped too deeply upon his mind to be deceived.

  With a bound he dashed upon the sidewalk, nearly upsetting a passer-by,and then hurried into the saloon.

  It was just after six in the evening, and the place was crowded with aset of laboring men who had stopped in to quench their thirst on theirway home from work.

  As the bar was but a small place, Van had great difficulty in squeezingthrough the motley gathering.

  The boy did not notice the rough looks that were bestowed upon him as heelbowed his way through the crowd toward the rear of the saloon.

  He was bent upon finding his man, and he forgot all else.

  Van was young and impulsive, and he made a great mistake when he enteredthat saloon upon the errand he was bent, as he afterward found out.

  Just as he came abreast of the lunch counter the place contained he sawMoreland enter a doorway in the rear and start up a flight of stairs.

  Like a flash Van was after him, and a moment later he flung the dooropen and darted breathlessly up the stairs.

  When he reached the top he found himself in a gloomy hallway of narrowdimensions.

  It was too dark for him to discern the person he sought, but he couldhear the sound of footsteps on the uncarpeted floor.

  It was just at that moment that it occurred to Van for the first timethat he had made a mistake.

  "I ought to have brought a policeman with me," he thought. "But it istoo late now. I will capture that man or die!"

  Rash boy! He had not taken ten steps along the hallway when a figuresuddenly confronted him; there was a dull thud, and Van Vincent sank tothe floor with a thousand stars flashing before his eyes.