No one at all resembling Thomas Duncan, however, made his appearance during that day, and in the evening Manning repaired to the chief’s office, as that gentleman had promised to accompany him on his visit to the friendly grocer.

John Miller and Mr. Wallace, the chief of police, were warm friends, and he felt confident that Miller would not tell him an untruth; but it was deemed best to introduce Manning as a friend of Duncan’s, from Chicago, who wanted to see him upon a matter of business.  Of course, it had not yet reached the public ear that Thomas Duncan was suspected of complicity in the robbery, as we had kept that fact entirely secret, fearing that a divulgence of Edwards’ confession would seriously interfere with our search for the missing burglar, and perhaps prevent us from ever apprehending him.

The two men therefore repaired to the store of the grocer, and were fortunate enough to find him at home.  He greeted the chief warmly, and acknowledged the introduction of Manning with good-natured heartiness and sincerity.  Inviting them into his private office, Mr. Miller requested to know the nature of their call, and Mr. Wallace at once explained to him what had already been agreed upon.  Manning further explained that when he left Duncan, that gentleman informed him that he intended coming to Des Moines, and would probably stop with Mr. Miller.

“Has he been here recently?” asked Mr. Wallace.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” replied Mr. Miller.  “More than three weeks ago he was here.  It was about midnight, and I had retired to bed.  Suddenly I was awakened by a loud ringing at my door-bell.  Hastily dressing myself, I went down, and there, to my surprise, stood Tod Duncan.  He was so disguised, however, that I did not recognize him until he addressed me and told me who he was.  He was attired in a suit of coarse brown ducking, heavy boots, and a slouch hat; around his neck he wore a large red handkerchief, and he looked more like a German tramp than like my old friend.  I felt at once that something was wrong, or that he was in some trouble; so I asked him in, and we went to my room.  My family were away at the time, and there was no one in the house but myself, and as he looked tired and hungry, I produced what eatables I had in the house, and he made a hearty meal.  After he had finished, he turned to me, and laughingly said: 

“‘The devil himself wouldn’t know me in this rig, would he?’

“I told him I thought not, and then asked him what was the cause of his strange disguise and his unexpected appearance in Des Moines.  He told me that he had got into some trouble about a game of poker in Leadville, and that he had shot and perhaps killed a notorious gambler in that city.  He wished me to help him, as he was hiding from the officers who were after him, until the affair blew over.  He seemed particularly anxious that I should help him to get away.  Upon asking him how the affair happened