Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 488 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

& show of horror. ‘‘ That you should venture here, to the bedside of your victim! Iam over- whelmed—” ‘ve no doubt you are!” answered Dick, with asneer, ‘‘I calculated you would be when you saw my phiz, I’m here for a last word with my uncle. And I'll have it, if there were a regi- ment of Phil Mortons to fence me out.” At this point the old doctor stepped forward, holding up his hands impressively. ‘Cease this unseemly squabble over the bed | to be distinguished. of a dying man!” he commanded. ‘‘ As for you, sir, if this is your uncle, you will have no word with him, for he has not spoken since his fall, and [ fear will never speak again.” This was unlooked-for and unwelcome infor- mation to Dick, His lip fell, and a baffled look came into his eyes. ‘‘ And, secondly,” remarked one of the of- flcers, stepping forward, “if you are Richard cket— ‘‘That is the name I swear by. I don’t calcu- late to soon go back on it.” ‘Then you are my prisoner, I take you in custody for the attempted murder of Amos Wilmot, It will be areal murder if the man before you dies,” Dick stood motionless as the officers ranged themselves beside him, and one of them laid a hand on his shoulder. He hardly seemed to hear their words. His eyes were fixed on the , countenance of the invalid. — Unele! Uncle Amos!” called Dick, in a loud tone. ‘‘ Youare not going to die without giving me redress? You have wronged me— wronged me bitterly! You are not going to carry the secret to your grave? Come back to life—if only to do justice to your brother’s son |! This loud, wild appeal had an astonishing ef- fect. The voize seemed to réach the ears of the invalid, who had lain stretched likea dead man. A sudden stir—a flush of color in the pallid cheeks—a gleam of light in the lusterless eyes. In an instant the impulsive young man had flung off the heavy hands of the officers as if ' they were but dead leaves on his shoulders, and ‘ gushed forward to the bedside, where he eager- ly grasped the invalid’s hand. ‘ “Uncle!” he cried again. ‘‘ It is your nephew - galls! Come back to life! Do me justice! You have hated me without cause! I have been be- - lied to your ears. Tell me, oh! tell me the mys- terious secret of the—” - He paused suddenly as his uncle gave another stir, and spoke in a voice as faint as if from the depths of the grave: ‘Who calls? What voice is that? heard it before.” There was a movement of astonishment in the room, The dead had been called back to life, Phil Morton sprung hastily to the officers, hid- ing his look of dismay under ashow of indigna- tion. ‘* Will you permit this?” he demanded, loudly. ‘“‘Tt is the murderer disturbing the dying mo- ments of his victim! Arrest him, I command you! Put an end to this shameful scene!” ‘‘ Keep cool, my dear sir,” answered the prin- cipal officer,‘ There is no harm being done.” ‘It is I, your nephew, Richard Racket!” re- joined Dick, to the faint appeal. ‘‘My nephew! Richard! The outcast! The spendthrift!” ‘*T have been a fool, but I have repented. You drove me to it, uncle. Forgive me for saying it now, but the truth must not be con- ceal lt is for you to redeem your wrong and make a man of me!” Phil Morton dashed forward from the im- movable officer's. ‘‘This is shameful!” he exclaimed—* this hounding of the dying! If no one has any sense of shame, I will take it in my own hands to pro- tect my dying uncie from outrage!” He caught Dick by the shoulders, and drew him back by a vigorous jerk. The young man turned on his assailant, with the glare of a baffled lion in his eyes. ‘‘- You, Phil Morton!” he hissed. ing tongue has kept me from him these six years. But your game is done, Lift your hands from my shoulders!” **T will not!” ‘‘Richard! my nephew Richard!” faintly call- ed the invalid, ‘‘I feel—{ knowit now. I have ranean A ists Here! Let me with my last breath redeem—” Dick strove to rush forward, but the clinging hands of his cousin held him back. What fol- lowed passed like the work of magic. A quick turn. A movement of the hand, Phil Morton was hurled like a chip against the opposite wall, \ and fell in a heap to the floor, while the impul- I have ~ ‘Your ly- | Wild Dick Racket. sive spendthrift sprung forward again to the bedside of his uncle. ‘*Here I am, uncle! Speak—speak!” he de- manded. ‘‘I have forgiven all, and beg to be forgiven for all.” ‘‘Bend your ear, Richard.” The voice was av faint as the last whisper of the evening breeze, Dick bent his ear to the quivering lips. ‘*Tt is hidden,” came in a low whisper, hardly ‘* Look in—in the—brown back— Shake—” The voice died away in inarticulate murmurs, ‘‘ Yes, yes,” cried Dick. ‘*Goon! goon!” ‘In the— Richard—” A look of anguish came upon the face of the invalid. He appeared to. vainly strive for words. With a paroxysm of failing strength he haif-lifted himself in the bed, and then fell back, limp and lifeless, his face whiter than the pillow on which it lay. ‘¢ He is in the swoon again,” declared the doc- tor. ‘“Tt is too late!” exclaimed Dick, rising dis- consolately to his feet. ‘‘I have gained only a few wandering words, that mean nothing, Poor uncle! He tried to do me justice at the last. It is too late. I am left to beggary in earnest!” He stood moodily, with clasped arms, gazing down on the pallid face before him in baffled sorrow, The officers looked at the troubled face of the young man with a feeling of doubt. This was not the look of a murderer gloating over his victim, At this moment Phil Morton rose from the floor, where he had fallen like a log from Dick’s fierce thrust. His voice trembled with fiery passion as he called out to the officers: ‘* Arrest him! Arrest the murderer! I com- mand you, in the name of the law, to do your duty!” At this demand, the principal officer stepped up to Dick. ‘*T can’t quite see pep this business, my friend,” he remarked, ‘' You don't act like a guilty man, yet the evidence looks black against you. Shall I ask you a few questions?” ‘* Not here,” rejoined Dick, ‘*‘ Come into the next room, lest we disturb the poor invalid. There is some confounded blunder afloat, my friend. Or maybe some rascally trick.” He led the way to the adjoining room, fol- lowed by all but the doctor, who remained in the room with his patient. ‘‘ Now,” said Dick, drawing his form proudly up, ‘‘ IT am ready to listen.” ‘*'You are in the habit of wearing a valuable diamond ring?” asked the officer. ** Yes,” admitted Dick, though a look of doubt passed over his face, ‘* Where is it?” ‘*T haven’t got it with me.” ‘¢ What have you done with it?” The young man seemed disturbed by the ques- tion. Dosnite himself, he could not prevent an uneasy movement. He looked around him, There stood his cousin with an expression of in- solent triumph on his face. This recalled Dick to a sense of the situation. He drew himself up with renewed assurance and pride. ‘‘T cannot see what my private affairs have to do with the matter, I decline to answer any such question.” “Then you have lost the ring? You ac- knowledge that? There is something concerned with it you have reason to be afraid of, or ashamed of?” Dick’s face suddenly lighted up. | ‘* Ashamed of— But no; I will say no more. It is no one’s concern but my own what I did with it.” ‘‘ Perhaps I can help your memory.” The officer’s voice grew stern and resolute. ‘‘ You wore the ring yesterday.” ‘¢ Tow do you know that?” ‘““No matter. Did you, or did you not?” ‘Yes, I wore it. What of that?” ‘* And you decline to tell what you have done with it?” ‘* T decline.” Dick was puzzled. ** Do you recognize this?” A ray of light from the lamp penetrated the room. Something in the officer’s fingers flashed back a double ray. It was a golden circie, set with a large solitaire diamond. Dick hastily grasped the officer’s hand, and fixed his staring eyes on the gleaming gem, ‘* My ring!” he faltered. ~ ** You acknowledge it, then?” ‘¢ How carr.e you by it?” ‘¢] will tell you!” exclaimed his cousin, step- ping hastily forward, while his eyes were full of illy-concealed” malice. your game well, Dick Racket. I will tell yow what the ring proves. I have looked into its. light, and have seen there a feeble old man standing on the brink of a rocky precipice. I have seen a young man steal up behind him with murder in his face. I have seen the murderer grasp his victim; seen the old man struggle fiercely a moment for his life, and then flung mercilessly to the foot of the cliff! All this was unseen by man, yet not unwitnessed by Heaven, The victim carried with him the evidence that: would convict the murderer — convict you, Richard Racket, for you were the murderer,, and your poor uncle, lying on his death-bed in there, the victim!” “Tt is a foul lie!” cried Dick, fiercely. “I defy you to prove a word of this neatly- concocted tale! What is the evidence you speak of?” ‘*This,” answered the officer, holding up the ring. ‘* The victim held something firmly clasp- ed in his right hand. The hand was forced open an hour ago, and this taken from it; your ring, torn from your finger by the victim of your deadly assault.” The accused stood speechless with seeming astonishment and confusion. His ring? In the dead man’s hand? In an instant the full conse- quence of this terrible circumstance flashed over his quick mind. He saw himself already con- demned in the eyes of the officer. How should he combat this dreadful evidence? How could he prove his innocence? He must be free to do so. There was an array of circumstances in his mind, that meant much to him but might mean nothing to others. é ‘-There is your prisoner! Take him!” cried the cousin, maliciously. The officers step hands on the accused. ‘*- You are our prisoner, Richard Racket!” Yet, there is many a slip twixt cup and lip.. A quick flash burned in Dick’s eyes. A double surge of his muscular arms and shoulders, and the surprised officers were sent reeling in oppo- site directions across ‘the room. The window by which he had entered Jay open before him. e dashed hotly toward it. Phil Morton, shrewdly divining his intention, was there before him, He braced himself to stop the fugitive; but he might as well have tried to stop an avalanche. In an instant he was lifted. from his feet, held aloft like a feather, and then flung over Dick’s shoulder with a sickening thud to the floor. An alert leap, and the young man flew, drawn together like a ball, through the open window, and out into the dark night. The officers rushed to the window, but only in time to see a ladder dashed to the ground, A form was vanishing into the darkness. There came the flash of a pistol at the open window, Whether or not the fugitive was hit could not be told. He had vanished into the night. forward and laid their CHAPTER IV. A MORNING’S STILL HUNT. ‘‘ THs is the spot, gentlemen.” It was Phil Morton who spoke. There were with bim the doctor, and a group of men, sev- eral of them in police uniform. They stood on a grassy spot, on the very brink of what seemed to be a precipice. Just before them lay a shelf of rock, and then a sheer descent into a great open cavity in the earth’s surface. Looking carefully over the edge there was visible a per- npnaenar wall of rock of some thirty feet in depth. At the bottom was a rocky floor, part- ly covered with water, while just below was a heap of earth and small bits of stone. ‘This is the old quarry. My poor uncle was found on that dirt-pile below,” Out of the men in citizen’s clothes, a smooth- faced, very keen-looking individual, whose eyes had been taking in every feature of the situa- tion, now turned to the speaker. ** Ts this ia on his grounds?” ‘“Yes, He was in the habit of walking this way every morning.” “Every morning?” ‘‘ He was always back by twelve.” ‘‘He was missed, and found about three. Then you think he must have lain here for sey- 2” or eThat ts my theery.” Phil Morton lcoked There was crape on very earnest and serious. his features as well as on his hat. The detective, for such was the profession of the questioner, continued to look closely about him. Nothing seemed to escape his eyes. ‘This is a dangerous spot for an old man to roam in,” he remarked. ‘‘ He might easily lose “You are playing comicbooks