Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 606 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

a7 Deadwood Dick’s Leadville Lay. Cohen, and will always keep it as a token of re- | membrance of our novel partnership in the pawnbroking business!” They soon separated, Rachel going to her store. and Dick wandering about town, won- dering vaguely what would be the nature of the next development in that novel game of hide and seek. CHAPTER XI. POOR EDNA! DURING his rambles that afternoon, Dick chanced to drop into the concert saloon where he had met Edna Grey, the first night of his ar- rival in Loadville. : There was no performance, but some of the specialty people were grouped about the place, chatting together, and from the topic of conver- sation, Dick learned that it was sa ary day, and there was some speculation among the perform- ers as to whether or not the ** ghost would walk” with his accustomed promptness, Business bad been dull, and there seemed to be good reason to expect a collapse, Among the performers present was Edna Grey, clad in a plain black dress and jaunty straw hat, and looking even prettier than when Dick had first seen her. She did not notice the detective on his en- trance, so he seated himself at one of the tables, and ordering a glass of beer, took a newspaper from his pocket and made a pretense of reading, but in reality waiting to see if Edna wouldcome and speak to him, She was not long in discovering his prewence, and leaving the group with whom she had been conversing, came over and paused beside bim. ‘*How do you do, Mr. Bristol?” she saluted. ‘*T trust you are in good health.” ‘‘ Never was in better,” Dick replied. ‘ But you, Edna—you are looking pale?” “This sort of life is enough to make one look pale,” she said, with a sigh. “Tt is not as bright as it is pictured, then?” Dick interrogate). ‘“* Indeed it is not. If I could only teach other girls the lesson I’ve been taught by going on the stage, I could save them many days—ay! years of suffering. Did you get the message I sent by your young apprentice, Mr. Bristol?” ‘* T did, and while it was very kind of you to interest yourseif in my behalf, it was really scarcely worth your while, for I’m not afraid of Ben Brice, nor dread any harm he can do me,” ‘* Maybe not—that’s because you don’t know him: he is a bad, desperate man.” ‘‘That may be, tov. But I’ve met worse ruf- fians. By the way, Miss Grey, did you tel! him about my being in the pawnbroking business? You must have betrayed my identity, or he would not have found out so soon.” ‘‘T did. But it was only to save my life that I did so, That night, after you knocked him down, Ben pounded me because I talked with ou, and the next night he threw me on the oor, and threatened to murder me if I didn’t tell bim all T knew about you. SolI told him you were a detective, He probably saw you at the parn-shop, and surmised the rest.” ‘‘What is Beh Brice to you, that he should dare take such liberties?” ** He is my husband!” * Your husband ?” * Alas! yes.” ‘* In the name of God, whatever pos you to marry that man—that beastly ruffian?” Dick demanded. ‘*T don’t know. I think I must have been in- sane at the time. But it is too late, now, and there’s no use of crying over spilled milk. Ive made my bed, and I suppose I must lay in it.” “You have seen better days, I infer!” ** Better days?—ah! yes, so niuch better days as light is better than densest darkness. If I had only thought so, before [ took the fatal step, I would not be bere now!” Sbe sunk upou a chair, by the table, and buried her face in her hands, while her figure shook with emotion. When she looked up, a moment later, her eyes were tearless, but there was a pained expression of silent agony upon her face. ‘Won't you tell me your story?’ Dick said, in a kindly tone. ‘‘I may be able to help you.” ‘“No, Pm past belp. However, Pil tell you my story, what little there is of it. I come of a staid old New England family—people of the straight-laced, ortnodox Methodist stock, and strict church people—people who rarely smiled at any of the vanities of life, and to whom a dance was the devil’s carousal, and the theater was hell itself, ** Mine was a different nature from theirs, [ was born light-hearted and with a natural ten- dency to look on the bright side ofj life - to ad- | i ' mire and be admired. From early childhood I loved society, and there was born in me a pas- sion to become an actress, or in fact, anything appertaining to a ‘show,’ as country people term all classes of amusements, always kept me down under the most rigid dis- cipline, and I never knew really what a show consisted of, until three years ago, when my parents moved to Mexico, Missouri. 1t was there that, on the sly, I saw the first circus of my life, and was saved from being trampled under the elephant’s feet, by Ben Brice, the animal trainer, Would to God, now, that he had not come to my rescue! ‘Brice was a far better looking man, then, than now, and of course I was grateful to him for saving my life, se for his part, he seemed to fall desperately in ‘love with me, at first sight, and promised me if 1 would runaway with bim and marry him, he would put me on the stage, when the circus season was over, and make a great star of me, ‘* Although his words filled me with visions of future greatness, I did not promise him, just oe and that night the circus moved to Hanni- al, ‘“When I went home, my father had learned of my being atthe circus, and gave me a terri- ble flogging, Although that was three years ago, and I was as big then, asI am now, | still bear upon my body the scar from one of the merciless blows from his cruel whip. But, it was the last blow he ever struck me, or ever will. Religion may be good enough, in a mild form, but when united with brutality, 1 want none of it! I fled from home that very night. ‘*T overtook the circus at Hannibal, married Ben Brice, and traveled with the show until the season closed, Then we came to Leadville, and have been here since. God only knows the bard- ships and sufferings I have endured, Even as you called him, Brice has turned out to bea beastly ruffian, and I both fear and loathe him!” ‘** Have you heard nothing from your parents, since you left home?” ‘* Not until a week ago, when, by chance, I met a merchant from Mexico. He told me that my father died a year ago, and that my mother is an invalid, and is constantly calling for me to come home, and be forgiven!” And here the poor girl buried her face in her hands again, and burst into tears, ‘* Please don’t crv, Miss Grey,” Dick pleaded, considerably affected. ‘‘ Perhaps I can_ help you. Why don’t you leave this wretch, Brice, who is so unwortay of you, and go back to your mother?” ** Oh, sir, if I only could I would go to-night; but I cannot.” iT Why 77 ‘*Because I have not the means. All, or uearly all, I earn here, Brice takes from me, Time and again have I tried to save up a little, but he always found it out and made me give the money to him,” ‘*Then you would go back to your mother if you had the means?” ‘* Indeed I would!” “I think about twenty dollars would take you home, would it not?” ‘* Yes, sir.” “Very well. I’m not a millionaire, by any means, but I am always willing to help the de- serving. On one condition I will supply you with the necessary funds to reach your Some.” ** And that condition—what is it?” és - That you will truthfully answer me a ques- ion. ‘* Of course I will, if I can do so, secrets, so why should I hesitate?” “Very well, This is what | want to know: Did Ben Brice have a hand in the stage-robbery about six months ago, and in the murder of old mau Cohen?” Edna shook her head. ‘No, he did not; I can assure you of that, for he was sick abed with delirium tremens at the time that affair bappened.” ‘** Yet he kno vs something about it?” ‘*T cannot say as to that, for he never made mea confidante of his secrets. That he was not one of the stage-robbers, however, I can swear,” ‘“Very well. You have told me the truth, I have no doubt, and now [ will keep my promise,” Taking a roll of money from his pocket, he counted out three ten-dollar notes, and extended them to her. “Take them,” he said, ‘‘and go back to your mother. Be a comfort to ber in her declining years, and if it is of any account, may a de- tective’s blessing go with you!” It was severa] minutes before Edna could find her voice, so great was her emotion,” I have no But my people | id Finally she said, in a low tone: ‘‘ Tt is I who should bless you, Mr. Bristol, for you bave put it in my power to once more see my dear old mother. I am sure I shall never forget your kindness, even though I may never be able to repay you.” Dick arose and took her hand. ‘*No repayment is expected,” he said. “If I shall have been the means of brightening your future life, I will have had my reward. kindly remembrance is far more valuable to me than mes ¢ Now, lose no time in leaving Leadville, Miss Grey, and God be with you. Good-by !” ‘‘Good-by, Mr. Bristol!” Edna sobbed, tears flowing down her cheeks; and, pressing her hand warmly, Dick turned and left the saloon, Searcely necessary to add that Edna Grey was not on the boards that night at the concert garden, and people wondered why. CHAPTER XII. SHIELDING A CRIMNAL. It was pitch dark when Dick reached the iia Sheldon’s, and supper was waiting for im. The good widow was certainly doing all in. her power to make things pleasant for bim. After supper, Dick retired to his room, to oe preparations for his visit to Mrs, Craw- ord’s, Billy Bucket had not yet come home from the pawnshop, and was not likely to, for an hour yet. Dick had, during the day, sent a note to Mrs. Crawford, describing what his appearance would be, when he called, in the evening. He had scarcely laid out his clothes and other things, preparatory to disguising himself, when there came a violent rap on the door. ‘*] wonder who that can be?” Dick mutter- ed. ‘‘ It didn’t sound at all like Billy’s rap!” Going to the door, he flung it wide open, ‘* Who’s there?’ he demanded. For answer a man rushed past him, into the- room—a wild-eyed, hatless man, covered with blood. It was Ben Brice! ‘‘ Ror God’s sake, shut that door, quick!” ho cried. ‘‘ Hide me! hide me or they wil] string me up!” ‘They? Who?” “The mob! There’s a hundred of ‘em! They’ll be here in a minute. Oh! detective, hide me! My life is worth more to you than it is to them! J can tell you all you want to know about the Cohen murder! ide me, for the love you bore your mother, I pray of you!’” And, strong man though he was, the terror- stricken wretch dropped upon bis knees, and held up his hands, imploringly. ‘‘ Why is the mob pursuing you? What haye you done?” ‘‘There bas been a murder committed, at. the south-side of town, and I am charged with it. But, as God is my witness, | am innocent, for I bave been at the Red Flag all day! Oh?! Bristol, please hide me!” Dick took the lamp from the table. “Come!” he said; ‘‘ Pll try it, If they search the house, and find you, it will not be my fault.” ‘‘ No, it will not be your fault!” Brice replied. From Dick’s room, a door opened into a short: dark ball, and from this hali, a staircase de- scended into the cellar, So to the cellar the detective conducted the- terrified ruffian. Even bere, hiding-places‘were- ata premium, but Dick, with his ready tact, was not long improvising one. Seizing a big empty barrel, he crammed it down over Brice’s head, ‘Squat, now!” he ordered, “until the barrel touches the ground, and remain in that position, until Lreturn. And you can thank your stars, if they do not find you.” And placing. a full basket of potatoes on the- barrel bead Dick took the lamp, and returned to his own room, All this had been done so quietly, that the Sheldons, in the rear rooms, knew absolutely nothing Apout it. Dick bad barely reached his room, when he heard the mob approaching, There must be a horde of them, surely, judgin by the yells, and the trample of feet, all 9 which sounds were coming nearer and nearer. Mrs. Sheldon and Susie entered Dick’s room, pale with affrigbt. ‘‘Oh! Mr. Bristol, what is the matter?’ the- widow asked, anxiously, “ Oh, notbing much, I guess,” Dick answered assuringly. ‘‘ You retire to the rear room, and Pll fix everything ail right, so far as we are. concerned,” ' So the ladies returned to the kitchen, ial - >