Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 488 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_—- you into the quarry! Say, oh! say it is not true! Clear me of this false charge!” ** What does this mean?” asked the old man, in a voice of growing strength. ‘‘No one threw me over the rocks; I fell myself. I was taken with a spasm and fell.” At this unlooked-for revelation, looks of sur- prise passed round the room. Here was a new phase on the question. Dick straightened himself in the pride of his vindication. ‘* But my i, A he suddenly cried. ‘* How came it in your hand?” “The ring? What ring?” The invalid’s eyes were full of helpless won- der. ‘*And the pencil found at the top of the rock? And the marks of a struggle?’ queried the detective who had arrested Phil, ‘And the admissions we have just heard? Ha! Mr. Phil Morton, your skirts are by no means clear! Who put the ring into Mr. Wilmot’s closed hand? Who arranged these other tell-tale indi- cations? By Heaven! it is as murderous a scheme as that of which your cousin was ac- cused.” A stern suspicion filled the old man’s eyes as he listened to these words and looked from the face of the man that knelt at his knee to the open countenance of Dick Racket. ‘IT begin to see,” he feebly said. ‘‘I have not been deaf all these days in bed though I could not speak, It is growing clear to me now. It is I that have been the criminal. I have robbed the worthy to aid the worthless.” His weak hand repelled the man who kneeled beside him. ** I have proved an unfaithful steward. Thank God I have lived long enough to redress the ths wrong I have done!” Dick sprung to tie old man’s side at these words, ‘I forgive all!” he cried, ‘You have not wronged me! You were justly exasperated by my wild life. But that is over—that is over, uncle! See here! You recognize this paper?” He held in his hand the mysterious document which he had so recently read. Fe be old man’s eyes dilated with surprise and read, ‘**That!” he exclaimed. that! You know—” “TI know nothing. Nobody shall know any- thing,” rejoined Dick, ‘‘It is the only record of the past. Thus I remove it.” He held it over the lamplight. In an instant it was aflame. Not until the burning paper scorched his fingers did he let it go, a fluttering fragment, .The perilous record had been reduc- ed to ashes. ' ‘‘That clears your reputation, uncle,” he ad- ded, ‘*Far be it from me to bring aught against you, though I wander in beggary my lite through.” Phil Morton had risen to his feet and fixed his eye on his noble-hearted cousin with insolent triumph. ‘You are a generous fool,” he romarked, in bitter scorn, ‘‘ I am greatly your debtor. You have left Beechcroft mine, It is mine, do you hear? Mine! Now do your worst, you fool!” ‘* No,” came in stern tones from his uncle, **T know you now, Philip. My eyes are opened by the approach of death. ‘ihe how I have misjudget. Yet your cousin’s noble renuncia- tion of bis fortune and vindication of my fame shall not be for naught. It is my duty now to do justice, and to retrieve the crime of my younger days. Will some one go for a notary? Quick, while I have strength left. I have to draw up a will, leaving all my property to the man to whom it rightfully belongs.’ ‘There is no need of a notary,” said one of the officers. “I understand the form of a will. There are plenty of witnesses here, No time need be lost.” Phil Morton looked on in helpless rage while pens and paper were procured, and the impro- vised notary seated himself at the table, pre- pared to receive the commands of the invalid. The white-lipped villain did make one effort to interfere, but was sternly checked by the officer, who had again laid a hand on his shoul- er ‘You have reached the end of your rope, my man,” harshly declared the detective, ‘+ Be. ware that you do not coil it round your neck, You have played your last card and lost the me ‘I leave all of which I die possessed to my dear nephew, Richard Racket.” The pen of the writer ran rapidly over the paper. Dead silence reigned inthe room, Ten minutes passed, ‘Your signature here, Mr, Wilmot.” ‘You have found | eect nai ee + ee oe ee oe ee —_ Wild Dick Racket. A look of joy marked the old man’s face as he grasped the pen and feebly traced his name. By that one deed he had retrieved the wrong of years, | CHAPTER XV. GETTING EVEN. Two months have passed since the scene with which our last chapter closed. We find our- selves again in the locality of our opening chap- ter. Nearly the same company is assembled. The table is set with all the requisites to a ban- quet, though no food is yet visible. Over it the blazing chandelier sends its warm light, At the head of the table stands Dick Racket, seemingly the Dick of theold days. Ranged along the side are guests at the seats which they occupied on that former occasion. But there is a queer, mocking smile on Dick’s lips and glance in his eyes, as he raps for'silence, “Tam happy to meet you here once more, gentlemen,” he began, in a soft tone. ‘* You remember our last lively meeting in this room, You know what happened then, and what has happened since, Then I had beggared myself and was ready to take up the life of a tramp. Now my uncle is dead and buried and I am the heir of his estate, Dick Racket, the ruined scapegrace, is now Richard Racket, the estated gentleman,” A rattle of beating hands and outcry of ap- plause broke into his speech at this point. He continued, after silence was resumed: ‘*T need not tell you what became of those who sought to ruin me, I fancied they had been punished enough, and did not care to push them to the wall. Moll Brandon and Joe Grog- gery are settled on a farm in the West. As for my cousin, Phil Morton, ho tried to drive me to a dungeon, but I have no desire for revenge, I have also given him his liberty, on his promise to depart far away from the city which he has dishonored by his presence. ‘Good for you, Dick! Generous old Dick!” came cries of applause, phe smile on Dick’s lips grew yet more satiri- cal. ‘‘ As for you, gentlemen,” he continued, “* you dropped off from Dick, the ruined spendthrift, like Nara from a dead tree. But you have come back to Dick, the heir, like trout to a sugary bait, I don’t blame you, It’s human nature. You have all sent me congratulations on my good fortune. In returnI have invited ou to alittle banquet, where we may BEY the hatchet and have one of our jolly times of old. What say you?».Have I spoken %o the card? Are you ready to help Dick Racket in a fling with his new fortune, as you did with his oid?” ‘“ Ay! ay! Royalold Dick! Prime old lad! Not much he’s going to turn parson, He’s got blood in his bones yet. Merry boy, we’re with ou.” ‘‘ While there’s a cent left,” responded Dick to this chorus of cries. ‘‘ And then a kick into the gutter as before. But a truce to all that. Your dinner is before you, gentlemen, Uncoy- er the dishes, and may you enjoy the feast.” The guests needed no second invitation, They drew their chairs eagerly up, with hungry eyes, the many covered dishes which graced the table were quickly uncovered, and then—there was a look of blank astcnishment which Dick perceived with a bland smile. ‘‘ Pile in, lads. I fancy some of you have not had a solid meal since your last at Dick Rack- et’s expense.” But the chairs were pushed sullenly back, while looks of rage and shame and muttered ex- clamations of anger succeeded, For the uncov- ered dishes had revealed a very Barmecide feast. Instead of the smoking viands hoped for, the dishes were filled with the most indigestible food. One, for instance, contained an array of cut straws, and was labeled: ‘‘ Salad for Suck- ers.” Another contained beet-tops, marked, ‘* Beets for Dead Beats,” In a third was an ar- ray of chopped-up bones, labeled: *‘ Lamb-chop: for Lame Ducks,” A fourth was filled with an ill-smelling fluid, marked: ‘ Brandy for Bum- mers.” ike unsavory ingredients filled the other dishes, there being ‘‘ Tripe for Traitors,” ‘Roast Pig for Rounders,” and similar uncom- limentary epithets on all the dishes that graced he long tables. The momentary sense of astonishment was followed by a burst of rage. Some of the guests remained sitting, but the most of them angrily pushed back their chairs, while a chorus of oaths and threats arose. Yet Dick listened as calmly as if they were paying him the highest compli- ments. “Come, gentlemen, you are not satisfied al- ready, I hope. Youyare anxious to have the old } 15 times back again, andI am doing my best to satisfy you. Come, Harry, fallto, Tim? Joe? You are not all going at the opening of the feast?” ‘* Let’s go for him, boys!” cried one of the in- sulted guests. .‘‘ Fling the dirty dog out of the hd pongo Let’s get even with him on this base ric ° \? Others were of the same mind, and several of the guests rushed for the mocking master of the feast. But Dick caught up a chair with his two hands and said in an inviting tone: ‘*“Come ahead, lads, If you want to wind up with a mill, I’m your horse.” They drew back on seeing his action, not quite so anxious as they were for a row with doughty Dick Racket. Turning, they fled in rage and shame from the room, with loud curses and threats of future revenge. A half-dozen remained, among them Will West. A laugh of derision followed the retreat of the dead beats. ‘‘ [ve shown them my hand now in earnest,” cried Dick. ‘* They served me a dog’s trick before. I vowed then to be even with them, and Iam. And now, lads, you that stuck to Dick in his decline, see if we can’t find something better than sawdust and straw to celebrate his victory.” A clap of the hands brought a force of waiters into the room, who pi ti cleared the table of its odd feast. Quickly this was replaced uy smoking viands, and the guests set to wit hearty appetites, sharpened by their enjoyment of the discomfiture of the bummers whom Dick had so signally punished. Long the feast continued, wild waxed the mirth, loud rolled the laughter, and Dick, at the nF of the table, seemed again his old wild self, But the longest merrymaking has its end, and this came to a close at last, with the last song sung and the last toast drank. ‘* And so winds up the past,” declared Dick, rising on his chair. ** With this ends my wild life, ig Dick, the Scapegrace, henceforth will be Dick, the Reformed. You are welcome to Beechcroft, every man of you, when and how you will, And you will always find there a hot plate and a corner cigar, But my wild oats are all sown, and the wildacre from this time on set tles down into the quiet country gentleman, I’ve had my fling, lads. I leave the ring now for new fools to fill.” And so it came to pass. Years have Yay since then, and Dick is still the jolly fellow of old, always ready for a cigar with a friend, and a chat over old tinres, and always with a plate at table for the faithful cronies of his wild days. But he has grown settled and sedate, and the walls of Beechcroft resound to no wild orgies under his regime. Yet many a hearty dinner races its ample board, and many a merry feast s held in its sturdy halls, and Dick is the old Dick still, sobered down but not transformed by the heavy hand of time. THE END. DIME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS FOR SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS AND HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. Dialogues, Nos. 1 to 88 inclusive, 15 to 2 popu- ar dialogues and dramas in each book. Each vol- ume 100 pages 12mo. Speakers, Nos. 1 to U inclusive. Each speaker 100 pages 12mo, containing from 50 to 75 pieces. YOUNG PEOPLE'S SERIBS,. Dime Book of Winter Sports, Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports, Dime Gents’ Letter Writer. Dime Book of Etiquette. Dime Book of Verces. Dime Book of Dreams, Dime Fortune Teller, Dime Ladies’ Letter Writer. Dime Lovers’ Casket. Dime Ball-Room Companion, Dime Book of 100 Games, Dime Chess Instructor. Dime Book of Beauty. te The above books are sold by newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any ad- dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each, Branty anp ApaMs, Publishers 98 William st., N. Y. Nd