It was tantalisingly near at hand, yet nobody could find it out.
It may amuse our readers to know that from the universal excitement that was created, there sprung up a crop of pretended discoverers of the lost child. All that was needed to restore him to the arms of his loving parents was a little money. Some of the announcements were hoaxes. Some were bare-faced attempts at extortion. The effect of these despicable communications was to add poignancy to the sorrow that was already endured by the father and mother of little Charley. The credulity of the family was also painfully tried by information alleged to have been obtained through the medium of spirits. Unfortunately, no two mediums gave the same direction in which to look for the child. Their revelations were simply a piece of nonsense, though imparted with prodigious gravity.
Annoyed with pretenders of various classes, Ross and his nephew did not relax endeavours to unravel the mystery. They travelled about over the northern states, led on by communications from the two thieves, who had quitted Philadelphia, and taken up new ground. It at length appeared to be conclusive that Charley's captors had gone to New York, and from rigorous investigations at the several hotels, it was almost certain that their names were Mosher and Douglas. They had, however, no child with them. Where he was stowed away, if still in life, no one knew. Going with professional zest into the affair, the New York police, greatly to their credit, under Superintendent Walling, made every effort to track the windings of the two desperadoes, who, from newspaper advertisements and bills stuck on the walls, saw that they were momentarily in risk of capture. New York, however, has about it holes and corners in which felons find temporary lurking-places, and when pursuit is keen there is water on two sides, with boats, in some of which there is a refuge from justice equal to that of the old Alsatia in Whitefriars. On the opposite side of the narrow channel on the east, lies Long Island, hilly and picturesque, and which, besides Brooklyn, possesses a large number of villas of wealthy citizens scattered about among gardens and pleasure-grounds. To this island, as charming a retreat of families from New York, as are the Highland borders of the Clyde for the citizens of Glasgow, we have to follow Mosher and Douglas, the reputed abductors of Charley Ross.
The two villains had exhausted their means. They had made nothing of the cruel capture we have been describing, and had indeed lost money by the transaction. Driven to their last shifts, they resolved to begin a career of house-breaking. As a commencement, they broke into the villa of Judge Van Brunt of the Supreme Court of New York, situated near the water's edge, at a picturesque part of Long Island. The judge and his family were absent for the season, and the house being shut up, offered, as was thought, a good chance of effecting a burglary. In laying their plans, Mosher and Douglas were not possibly aware, that before closing his house, the judge furnished it with 'a burglar alarm telegraph, which conveys information of the slightest interference with any of its doors or windows into the bedroom of his brother,' who resided permanently in a house near at hand. The account of the attack may be given in the words of Mr Ross:
'On the morning of December 14, at two o'clock, this alarm-bell rang violently. Mr Van Brunt was at once awakened, and immediately called his son Albert, who was asleep. When Albert came down stairs the father said: "Go over and see what has sounded that alarm; I think the wind has blown open one of those blinds again;" an occurrence which had more than once before caused the bell to ring. The young man went, first taking the precaution to put a pistol in his pocket. Approaching his uncle's house, he noticed a flickering light through the blinds of one of the windows; he returned and told his father about the light, procured a lantern for himself, and went to arouse William Scott, the judge's gardener, who lived in a cottage close by, and who had the keys of the judge's house. On their way back, Scott and Albert ascertained that more than one man was in the house with the light. They then awoke Herman Frank, a hired man; and after placing one man in front and another behind the judge's house, Albert returned to his father and reported what he had seen and done. His father, although seriously suffering from illness, after getting together the arms in the house, joined his son, and calling the gardener and hired man to him, said: "Now, boys, we have work to do, and must understand each other; we must capture those fellows if we can without killing them; but if they resist, we shall have to defend ourselves. Albert, you and Scott stand before the front door; Frank and I will take the rear; and whatever happens afterward, let us remain in the positions we first take up; because if we move around, we shall be certain in the dark to shoot one another instead of the thieves. Whichever way they come, let the two who meet them take care of them as best they can; if they come out and scatter both ways, then we will all have a chance to work." The party took their respective places; the night was pitch dark, cold, and wet. The watchers waited patiently for nearly an hour, while the burglars went through every room in the house, with the rays from their dark-lanterns flashing now and then through the chinks in the shutters. At length they came down to the basement floor and into the pantry. Through the window of this little apartment Mr Van Brunt could see distinctly the faces of the two burglars. He could have shot them down there and then in perfect safety to himself and his companions; but he wished to refrain from taking life until he could be certain that the robbers would shew resistance. He did not wish to kill them in the house, nor in any other way than in self-defence.
'The elder Van Brunt, finding he was growing numb and weak from the effects of the cold damp air of the inclement night, determined "to push things," and standing in front of the back door, ordered the hired man to open it quickly. In trying to get the key into the keyhole, he made a noise which the quick-eared burglars heard. Their light went out immediately, and their footsteps were heard ascending the cellar stairs. Mr Van Brunt and his man moved towards the trap-door of the cellar, the lock of which had been broken. This was soon opened, and the body of a man started up, followed by the head of another. Mr Van Brunt cried out "Halt!" in response to which two pistol-shots from the cellar door flashed almost in his face, but without injuring him. He then fired his shot-gun at the foremost man, and a cry of agony followed. The other man fired at him a second time, and then ran towards the front of the house. There he dashed almost into the arms of the younger Van Brunt, at whom he fired two more shots, luckily missing him also; and before the pistol could be fired again his arm was struck down by a blow from Mr Van Brunt's shot-gun, which was shattered. Uttering a terrible cry the burglar now retreated; but before he had gone many rods, Mr Van Brunt sent a bullet into the would-be murderer's back. The desperate house-breaker staggered for an instant, and then fell dead.
'Meanwhile the other burglar, although mortally wounded from the elder Van Brunt's first fire, continued to shoot in the dark until he was exhausted. The firing now ceased; the only thing positively known, after the second or third shot, being the gratifying fact that while none of the defenders of the judge's property was hurt, the two burglars were literally riddled with shot and bullets. One was stone dead, with his empty revolver under his head; the other lived until five o'clock – only about two hours. Several neighbours, aroused by the firing, came rushing to the place, and got there by the time the fight was over; one of whom was asked by the wounded man to give him some whisky. After tasting it, he pushed it away, and called for water, which he drank eagerly. He was then asked who they were, and where they came from. He replied: "Men, I won't lie to you; my name is Joseph Douglas, and that man over there is William Mosher." He spelled M-o-s-h-e-r-'s name, adding: "Mosher lives in the city (New York), and I have no home. I am a single man, and have no relatives except a brother and sister, whom I have not seen for twelve or fifteen years. Mosher is a married man, and has five children." Believing himself to be mortally wounded, he continued: "I have forty dollars in my pocket; I wish to be buried with it; I made it honestly." Then he said: "It's no use lying now: Mosher and I stole Charley Ross from Germantown." When asked why they stole him, he replied: "To make money." He was then asked who had charge of the child; to which he replied: "Mosher knows all about the child; ask him." He was then told that Mosher was dead, and was raised up so that he could see the dead body of his partner in guilt. He exclaimed: "God help his poor wife and family." To the question, "Could he tell where the child was?" he answered: "God knows I tell you the truth; I don't know where he is; Mosher knew." The same question was repeated a number of times to him; but he gave no further information, but said: "Superintendent Walling knows all about us, and was after us, and now he shall have us. Send him word. The child will be returned home safe and sound in a few days." He told his inquirers
