Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 716 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

oO: Re ete =-" ~ 14 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Still Hunt. rE a ea slightly as it fell back into place, and the step was heard again soft and cat-like. Ina moment Kate was at the door, opened it without a sound, almost, and looked out. In the hall was the ser- vant, just in the act of applying her ear to the keyhole of the other door, Glosing and lockimg the door again, as silently as she had opened it, Kate returned to her place, and with note-book and pencil in hand, holling the book in the ray of light that came through the crack from the other room, pre- pared to jot down whatever words might reach her ears. The confession began, proceeded, ended. Deadwood Dick played the part so well that not a shadow of suspicion was aroused. ‘*T have been a sinful woman,” the confessor began, ‘‘but not a vicious one, I sinned years ago, and bave carried a secret in my breast all the years since, locked from the eyes of even my poor sister. She never knew it, never guessed it, never suspected it. She, poor soul, wanted to have our property left to that worthless rascal, our grandnephew. She could not read his char- acter asi could. But I, I was determined that it should be left to Mrs, Pratson, who bas more claiuis upon me than ever Howard Crandford could ever have had, even were he worthy, for she is my own grandchild. ‘* Yes, itis true, true. Oh! the weight my sin has been upon me al) these years that are past and gone! The anxiety at never knowing the fate of my missing child, the daughter of my shame!” Something like a groan was heard, and the woman stopped. ‘ The sound was not repeated, and she presently resumed, this time continuing to the end. ““No one ever guesse| the truth, I pretended to go away from home, but really never went out of the city, Chicago, where we used to live, My child was born, anil pnt it into the hands of a charitable institution. There it was reared until a girl of thirteen, . hen she was taken bya family and given a home, But evil was upon her, and she was no credit to the institution that had reared her, though she was a credit to the sin that she bad inherited from me, 1 had heen evil; she turned out even worse than that. But in spite of all I loved her, for my own blood was in her veins, and she was my own child, though I could never acknowledge her or let ber know who her mother was. ‘* But finally a better daycame, She married honorably; a little baby girl blessed the union; she had a good and faithful husband, and I hoped the end of the evil was come, But it proved not so. She was false, disappeared, and her husband was left witb the baby to care for, not knowing where the mother was or what bad Leen her fate. Hedid not know ker past. Had he known it, she would never have been his wife, for he was honest and honerable, He cared for the child, raised her, and lived to see her happily married, but died soon after. ** Now that child, the child of my own off- spring, my grandchild, is a happy wife and mother, inheriting all her father’s goodness of character, with little or none of the evil of her mother. And it was to her that I wanted to leave the bulk of the wealth enjoyed by my sis- ter apd me. But my sister op me. She was determined it should go to Howard Crand- ford; I was determined that it should go to my grandchild. I could not explain, ob! 1 could not explain, and I knew that while my sister lived I could never bope to carry out my wish.” The listeners expected now to hear the story of the heinous crime. **T loved my sister,” the woman went on, “* but upon this one point we could never agree, She did offer to give consent that a quarter of it should go to Mrs. Pratson, and I made the same concession toward Crandford, but there we stop- ped. I would not yield to the half, and neither would she, And there it seemed likely to stand until both, no, one of us had passed away. I was the older, and naturally feared that I should be the first to go. I could not confess my sin, after all these years, and tell her the truth, that Mrs, Pratson is my grandchild. What was I to do? God forgive me! but I really wished that Phoebe might die suddenly, thus giving me the chance I wanted.” Horror almost held the listeners spellbound. ** But agen 2 the woman concluded, ‘I re- solved to yi the point, If my grandchild could receive a quarter of our wealth, I fully de- cided, it was all I could ask for her. I would yield the point, and our will should be made at once. It wasin the night that this resolve was made, Having made it, and my mind at peace, 1 fell ee and did not awake till morning— that awful morning! I called to my sister, to tell her of my resolve, She did not answer, I called again. Still no answer. Fearing the worst, I sprung out of bed and ran in, when— Oh! the horror of what I saw!” At that momenta loud groan was heard, a door was flung open, and the woman servant staggered in from the hall, throwing herself at Susan Roylan’s feet, ‘*My mother! my mother /” she cried, clasp- ing her hands, ‘I never knew you, never guessed you were my mother, Iam your cbild, the child of evil; I am the mother of your grand- daughter; I—/ am the one who killed your sis- ter! Hear my confession—bear it, hear it!” A column would not suffice to depict the scene, or portray the varying emotions of these women and those who listened to their words, ‘*Tamallthat you havesaid of me,” the wretch moaned. ‘'A crime made me leave my tusband and hide myself from all who had known me. I resolved upon a better life. I got a place with you, never suspectin’ who you was. [ have been with you ever since, faithful and true in all things. I watched over the growth of my child, though I dared not go near her. I saw her hap- pily married and settled, And you can’t tell with what a feelin’ of joy it was when I found you was doin’ her kindnesses when she was 80 poor. Then, I heard you and your sister a- quarrelin’ about leavin’ your money to her, and it worked on me till at last I nerved myself to Phoebe out of the way to give you the chance knowed you wanted.” With a scream of rage, old Susan Roylan sprung at her as though she would kill her, as indeed was her intent, if she could. ‘*Curse you, you shall pay for that, child of mine though you be!” she screamed wild) ee will choke the evil life out of you, the life that 7 cursed my Own since the hour you were born. But the other had sprung back, whipping a long, keen bowie from her bosom, ‘* You need not kill me,” she cried, interrupt- ing; ‘*I’ll do thatmyself. Mine is an evil spirit; no prayer of yours, good father, could save it from the fate that is awaiting it, But hear my last words. I killed Phoebe Roylan. I crept into her room, killed her with a single blow, wiped the knife on my apron and returned to my own room, That apron is between the sprin and mattress on my bea. I have not yet dar to burn it, And this is the knife with which the c: ime was done.” Deadwood Dick had stood ready to stay her hand, intending to spring upon her and tear the knife away; but, she was too quick for him. With ber last words the blow fell, and the blade was buried in her breast, Immediately the sliding-door opened, and Kodak Kate and the lawyers came forth, much to the amazement of the trembling old lady, who was almost dazed with what had taken place in so short a time. Dick threw off his disguise, Kodak Kate doing the same, and then followed explanations in full, which it is not essential to quote, In closing our narrative, few additional state- ments are necessary. Everything has been brought out so that all the minor iculars are easily understood by the reader who has followed our story. The revelation of the mysterious murder was such as no one could have foreseen, If Deadwood Dick made a wrong guess, it was so near tothe truth that following it i brought about the denouement we have seen. It was an investigation that would not otherwise have been made, for the proof against Howard Crand- ford bad seemed positive of his guilt. He had been in the house barely half an hour before the crime was committed, and only for Deadwood Dick and his noble little assistant, the rascal’s neck might have heen stretcbed for a crime he had never done. Henarrowly escaped, and soon disappeared, together with the woman who was no better than himself, Crandal Ingerslee bad no trouble about procuring a divorce, A mys- tery hung over this woman, & mystery in which the old lawyer was concerned, and although Bristol never troubled himself to try to find out the secret, he believed it was a case not greatly unlike that of Susan Roylan’s. Dick little cared. This case brought new honors to Dick and Kate, which they wore modestly, as usual. Susan Roylan lived only a short time, and was laid to rest beside the sister she had loved. Her will held good, and ber granddaughter was bene- fited by it, though she was never allowed to learn the truth of the old lady’s interest in her. For once the newspapers did not get the inside particulars of a case that bad excited the great- est interest. And so the matter ended, a mys- tery still to all but the few who were allowed to know the truth, Deadwood Dick Jingered in San Francisco, even though he bad been summoned to the wilds of the North, an urgent summons and one which he had responded to, and where he knew be must be expected daily. He had a reason for Staying. There was an attraction he could not resist. In Kodak Kate he had found a kin- dred spirit, and be loved the girl! She was, he declared, like a second self. ina few days there was a quiet wedding at the residence of Mrs, Burton, and Dick and Kate were made one; as happy and well-matched a couple as were ever seen, Dick was free to marry, aud though he had loved and wed before, this time it seemed as though he bad found the one woman whose soul was twin to bis own, A brief honeymoon of a week passed all too soon, then Dick set out upon his Northern mis- sion, ‘promising to return as soon as the cam- paign should close, THE END. Beadles Dime Library. BY NED BUNTLINE. 14 Thayendanegea,the Scourge; or,“The War-Eagle. 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the Isle. 23 The Red Warrior; or, The Comanche Lover. 61 Captain Seawaif, the Privateer. 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, The Skipper’s Crime, 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Shy i.) 270 Andros, the Rover; or, The Pirate’s Daughter, 261 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail. 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 621 The Red Privateer; or, The Midshipman Rover, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 8 The Headless Horseman. 12 The Death-Shot: or, Tracked to Death, 55 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance of the Plains. 66 The Specter wg? be A Tale of the Pacific. 74 The Captain of the Rifles; or, The Lake Queen. | 200 The Rifle Rangers; or, Adventures in Mexico. 208 The White Chief. A Romance of Mexico.\ 213 The War Trail: or, The Hunt of the Wild Horse, 213 The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter. 228 The Maroon. A Tale of Voodoo and Obeah. The Hunter’s Feast. The White Squaw, BY MAJOR DANIEL BOONE DUMONT. 883 Silver Sam, the Detective. 389 Colonel Double-Edge, the Cattle Baron's Pard, 411 The White Crook; or, Old Hark’s Fortress, 420 The Old River Sport; or, A Man of Honor, 439 Salamander Sam. 454 The Night Raider. 464 Sandycraw, the Man of Grit. 508 Topnotch Tom, the Mad Person, 573 The Witch of Shasta; or, The Man of Cheek. MISCELLANEOUS, §6 Wildeat Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler. 9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10 Vidoeq, the French Police Spy. By himself. 11 Midshipman Easy. Ey Captain Marryatt. 82 B’hoys of Yale; or, The Scrapes of Collegians. 60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. By F. Dumont. 68 The Fighting Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 76 The Queen’s Musketeers. By ie yy Albany. 78 The Mysterious Fe By Arthur M. Grainger. 102 The Masked Band. By George L. Aiken. 110 The Silent Rifleman. H. W. Herbert. 125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainsworth. 133 Rody the Rover, By William Carieton. 140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo, Walker. 144 The Hunchback of Notre Dame. By Victor Hugo. 146 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel. 152 Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter Chief. 158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell, 166 Owlet, the Robber Prince. By S. R. Urban. 179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alexander Dumas. 261 Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt. By Col. Jo Yards. #5 The Smuggler Cutter. By J. D. wey 312 Kinkfoot Karl, the Mountain Scourge. By Mor- ris Redwing. 850 Flash Falcon, Society Detective. By W. J. Cobb, 353 Bart Brennan; or, The King of Straight Flush, By John Cuthbert. 366 The Telegraph Detective.” By George H. Morse, 410 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. F. Hill. 518 a Se Richard, the Thoroughbred. By J. W. sbon, 534 Green Mountain Joe: or, The Counterfeiter’s ' Cave. By Marmaduke Der 542 The Ocean Drift; or, The Fight for Two Lives, By A, F. Holt. 566 The Dauntless Deteciive: or, The Daughter Avenger. By Tom W, King. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail oa receipt of twelve cents each. ADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William street, New York,