DYKE DARREL ***
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
DYKE DARREL THE RAILROAD DETECTIVE
Or
THE CRIME OF THE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS
By FRANK PINKERTON
1886
CHAPTER I.
A STARTLING CRIME.
"The most audacious crime of my remembrance."
Dyke Darrel flung down the morning paper, damp from the press, and began pacing the floor.
"What is it, Dyke?" questioned the detective's sister Nell, who at that moment thrust her head into the room.
Nell was a pretty girl of twenty, with midnight hair and eyes, almost in direct contrast with her brother, the famous detective, whose deeds of cunning and daring were the theme of press and people the wide West over.
"An express robbery," returned Dyke, pausing in front of Nell and holding up the paper.
"I am sorry," uttered the girl, with a pout. "I shan't have you with me for the week that I promised myself. I am always afraid something will happen every time you go out on the trail of a criminal, Dyke."
"And something usually DOES happen," returned the detective, grimly. "My last detective work did not pan out as I expected, but I do not consider that entirely off yet. It may be that the one who murdered Captain Osborne had a hand in this latest crime."
"An express robbery, you say?"
"And murder."
"And murder!"
The young girl's cheek blanched.
"Yes. The express messenger on the Central road was murdered last night, and booty to the amount of thirty thousand dollars secured."
"Terrible!"
"Yes, it is a bold piece of work, and will set the detectives on the trail."
"Did you know the murdered messenger, Dyke?"
"It was Arnold Nicholson."
"No?"
The girl reeled, and clutched the table at her side for support. The name uttered by her brother was that of a friend of the Barrels, a man of family, and one who had been in the employ of the express company for many years.
No wonder Nell Darrel was shocked at learning the name of the victim.
"You see how it is, Nell?"
"Yes," returned the girl, recovering her self-possession. "I meant to ask you to forego this man-hunt, but I see that it would be of no use."
"Not the least, Nell," returned Dyke, with a compression of the lips. "I would hunt these scoundrels down without one cent reward. Nicholson was my friend, and a good one. He helped me once, when to do so was of great inconvenience to himself. It is my duty to see that his cowardly assassins are brought to justice."
Even as Dyke Darrel uttered the last words a man ran up to the steps and opened the front door.
"I hope I don't intrude," he said, as he put his face into the room.
"No; you are always welcome, Elliston," cried Dyke, extending his hand. The new-comer accepted the proffered hand, then turned and smiled on Nell. He was a tall man, with smoothly-cut beard and a tinge of gray in his curling black hair.
