Quintus Oakes: A Detective Story — 12 The Witness

_The Witness_ Mr. George Elliott, aristocratic, well-to-do club-man and all-round agreeable fellow, lived in bachelor apartments on the upper West side of New York.

He was engaged now in the brokerage business, but, times having been dull, he found it rather difficult to occupy himself and was anticipating taking a vacation--but where, he had not yet decided.

Events were shaping themselves, however, to bring him into the happenings at Mona as one of our party.

On the corner, near the apartment, was a boot-blacking stand, presided over by one Joe, an intelligent and wide-awake colored youngster, whose general good-nature and honesty had made him popular with many.

Among his patrons and general well-wishers was Mr. Elliott, to whom Joe had taken a particular liking, and whose opinions the young negro had often sought in an off-hand way; for, despite his general air of reserve and hauteur, Elliott was kindness itself at heart, and a man who could be easily approached by those who were suffering from worry and hardship.

At about the time of the beginning of this story, Joe's mother had been taken sick and had died in Troy, and the boy had gone up there for a few days.

Then he had gone to Lorona, a little town farther south, and from thence to Mona on his way home to New York.

At Mona he had seen a terrible thing--a murder.

Bewildered, frightened, overawed by his fateful knowledge, he had managed, however, to reach New York, where he sought out Mr. Elliott for counsel; he knew the latter was kind and good and would tell him what to do.

Joe realized that he needed advice--that he was in a terrible fix, being the only witness, so far as he knew, of a crime of the worst kind.

As Joe told Mr. Elliott the things he had witnessed, that gentleman realized the tremendous value of the evidence being told him.

By adroit questioning, he determined that the celebrated Quintus Oakes was in Mona.

The boy said he recognized him, for he had frequently "shined" Mr. Oakes's shoes in times past on Broadway.

Elliott realized that as he was called Clark at the inquest--according to Joe--the people in Mona did not know him as Oakes; he must be travelling under an _alias_, on important business probably.

Elliott also grasped the fact that Oakes was there at the time of the murder by coincidence only.

He had read of the affair in the evening paper, but only in a careless manner.

It was all of deep interest now.

What should he do with Joe?

If he allowed the boy to think that he was in a tight place, he might run away, and that would defeat justice.

There was the alternative of telling the police; _that_ would mix himself up in an unpleasant affair, and Joe might not be believed--might be falsely accused of the murder.

Again, he knew Mr. Oakes.

He had seen him at the Club, and he did not desire to frustrate whatever investigations the detective might be making.

The best solution would be to find Quintus Oakes and tell him.

He certainly would be able to give some attention to the murder, even if not in Mona for that purpose.

Meanwhile, he himself would hold the boy at all hazards.

With skill scarcely to be expected from one of his easy-going type, he told Joe to remain and sleep in his flat that night and that he would fix things for him.

The terror-stricken negro was only too glad of sympathy and protection from one of Mr. Elliott's standing, and complied; for he was at the mercy of his friends.

What could he, a colored boy, do alone?

After tired nature had asserted herself and Joe had fallen asleep in a room which had been given him, Elliott called up Oakes's office by telephone.

In less than an hour a dapper young man sought admission to the apartment, and was met by Elliott.

He introduced himself as "Martin--from Oakes's place."

In a few words Elliott explained matters, and Martin said: "Let Joe go to his boot-blacking stand in the morning.

Get your shoes shined, and place your hand on his shoulder in conversation, so that he can be identified before you leave.

Our men will be in sight.

Then meet me at the elevated station, and we will go to Mona together, if you care to do so."

"Good!"

said Elliott.

"I am willing; I will take my vacation that way."

And that was how, several hours later, Joe went to his boot-blacking stand, feeling secure in being near friends, and oblivious of the fact that strange eyes were watching all his movements.

A little later Elliott patronized the stand, and in leaving placed his hand on Joe's shoulder and said: "Nobody will trouble you, old fellow.

Don't say a word; it will all come out right.

I will back you to the limit."

And after that several pairs of eyes watched every movement of the boot-black.

Several affable strangers gave him quarters for ten-cent shines.

Joe was not in the police net, but he was in the vision of those silent men whom one cannot detect--those experts employed by men like Oakes.

Escape was impossible for the negro.

Joe remained in good spirits, for had not Mr. Elliott befriended him?

He was ignorant of the doings of those brief hours when he slept.

Elliott's going to Mona was perhaps unnecessary, but he felt a natural curiosity to know Oakes better, as well as to see the outcome of the case and the effect of the evidence the negro possessed.

He was also actuated by a desire to do all he could to establish the accuracy of the boy's statement, and to see that he obtained as good treatment as was consistent with the ends of justice.

He and Martin arrived at Mona the day after the murder--our first one at the Mansion.

The two stayed at the hotel and studied the town, finding it impossible to go to the Mansion without creating talk.

As Martin said: "We must go slowly and not appear too interested in Oakes, or rather Clark, as he is known up here--so the office informed me.

So far as we know he has nothing to do with the murder case, and we, being strangers and consequently subject to comment, must be guarded in our actions.

I have seen and heard enough to realize that there is much suppressed excitement among the people.

We must communicate with Oakes quietly, and find whether it is wise to see him.

He may not desire our presence at the Mark place."