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Leaves from the Note-Book of a New-York Detective

Introduction

by the Editor


Some years ago I was traveling in the South. By some misadventure I missed the train at Augusta, Georgia, and was compelled to spend a night in that rather slow town. I patronized the best hotel in the place, and after having partaken of an early supper I thought I would go and explore the city until bed-time.

Half an hour, however, was amply sufficient to see all the lions of the place, and at the end of that time I returned to my hotel, wearied and ennuied.

I listlessly entered the reading room which was also the bar-room; and taking up a paper that had been issued in New York four days previously, composed myself to read the shipping intelligence. Not that I had the remotest interest in that species of news, but it was the only part of the paper I had not perused.

While thus engaged, a slight cough drew my attention from the arrivals and departures and raised my eyes. Seated at the further end of the from was an individual I had not noticed before. He was a man, I suppose, between forty and forty-five years of age. There was something very peculiar in his features which immediately arrested my attention, I do not know how to describe it, but it gave me the idea that he possessed in an eminent degree the power of analysis. This impression was further increased by his movements. They were quick; and it was plainly to be perceived that he did not allow the slightest circumstance to escape him. I am not naturally inclined to make friends with strangers, but there was something in the man which attracted me to him. I drew my chair… Read More