Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 238 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

obligation whatever to him, when he it was who had placed her in the way of a magnificent in- heritance. ‘It’s too bad—outrageous!” he munched be- tween his thin, compressed lips. ‘* I won’t stand it. Nota bit. I am not made of that kind of stuff. Aha! I have the will safe—the only ex- isting will of Girard Ardway. Now, if I only had the adoption papers, and Ardway, who is already dead, dies intestate, as will appear, and without leaving anything to legally sustain the girl’s claim in the estate—ahem! that will ad- mirably reward her ungratefulness. Yes; I must devise a plan to get hold upon the adop- tion papers. Occasio facit furem! But how? —ahem! yes, how is it to be done? Let—me— see—” and seated before the rickety desk, with elbows propped, he scratched and coiled his eely fingers through his long hair in plotty medita- tion, There was arap at the door. rap, a visitor entered. ft was Percy Desmond, The Prince. ‘* Hello!” he saluted, as if well-known to the lawyer. ‘‘ Margrip, how are you?” ‘““Abem! walk in. But I think I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance.” ‘“No? Well, that isn’t so very strange, con- sidering that we never met before.” Ah! J thought so.” Desmond coolly helped himself to a chair, dragging it forward. a ‘*What can I do for you, sir?’ Margrip in- uired., arr I have called to get Mr. Ardway’s will.” ‘* Hey ?—eb?”’ At this the lawyer stared. ‘*Mr. Ardway’s will. You have it, I believe. You see, he had some curious quirk working in his brain when he last saw you. Almost as soon as you had left his house he thought better of what he had done, and concluded to let the original will stand. As I happened to make a call at the house just about that time, he asked it as a favor that I would seek “gee and request the immediate return of the will through me,” The lawyer feigned an increasing amazement. ‘‘Abem!—yes. But, my dear sir, thereis a big mistake somewhere.” **In what way?’ “Simply in that Mr. Ardway never gave me any will since I drew it up and handed it over to him for final signature aud witnessing. I may add that I have reason for believing that he never did execute the will—tore it up, may- be.” ‘*Oh, come, Margrip, that won’t do.” “It will have to do,sir. And 1 don’t like your familiarity, sir. I have no will. understand what Mr. Ardway could have meant Following the by sending you bere upon such an errand—if he | did do so. Besides were the will in my posses- sion I assuredly would not give it toa stranger on his mere say-so; | would carry it to Mr. Ardway in person.” ‘‘And you know the latter to be 5 mm hy because of his mysterious death. Ah, Margrip, you are a sharp one,” ‘*Tn some cases by a large majority,” rejoined Silas, meaningly. ‘Let us argue the point.” ‘*No, sir. Hie jfinis fandi! I bave no such paper as you refer to. I am very busy. Ex- cuse me, It was plain that Silas did not believe his visitor to be acting under any instruction from the deceased prior to death. Moreover he had resolved to hold the will. He turned to his desk and began shuffling over some documents busily. ‘** Margrip, I must have that will.” If there had remained any doubt in his mind that this party wanted the will for purposes of his own, the doubt was instantly removed by the tone of the last uttered words, ‘And I will get it,” added The Prince, em- phatically. ‘‘ Now look here—you are a toler- ably shrewd individual, and you have pores a pretty fine game. The only trouble about the game is, there is one more interested in it, from the money-making point of view, than you counted on. I also hold a hand—I purpose oarsgir atrump. Weare both making a stake out of it, Sone’ not partners, You make it one way, I in another. There’s a little cheating going On under the table, as it were. If you on't Come out with the will, I give you fair warning, I shall expose the whole thing.” Margrip felt a slight inward thrill. He did not immediately look around at the speaker, but sat statue-still, weighing, analyzing in his aa gm what was unmistakably a serious threat. “Ahem! You are talking in a most inex- plicable manner, sir,” he said, at last. ‘‘Basily explained. You know—and I know too, please remember—that the Edna Crystol adopted by Girard Ardway, is not the daughter of Colonel Crystol, for whom Mr. Ardway was looking.” ¢ ey. this issheer nonsense! What are you talking about, sir?” ‘* Not the least bit of nonsense. I'll tell youall about it. You went to St. Louis at Mr. Ard- way’s solicitation. You succeeded in finding a young girl whose naue was Crystol, She did I can’t | Hank Found, the Crese oe — Oe _ not even bear the name of Edna, but she was known as Louie Crystol. She was an orphan; she had no recollection of her father and mother; she was eking out a livelihood, and a poor one at that, by coloring photographs. For a girl in her situation, it did not require any very exhaustive eloquence to convince her that her name was Edna—not Louie. She was quite delighted, and reasonably, to be in- ent City Detective. 13 Ardway’s instigation, as be wished to, and did adopt her as a waid, Ahem! yes. _ It’s all straight. There’s no doubt at all, IJpso Sarto,” formed that she was in reality the daughter of | Colonel and Martha Crystol; that a wealtby gentleman wanted to adopt her as one of his heirs in token of his long friendship for the colonel. Ob, you persuaded her easily enough. She came on to New Orleans and is now known as Edna Crystol, the heiress, 1 presume you raked in a good fee by that little master-stroke. But, you see, you can’t humbug me like you did Ardway, and like you did the girl. You have been well paid; your interest there ended with the payment. Ardway has instructed you to prepare another will, leaving Edna Crystol out of it. You, who love money well enough to sell our soul for it, are quite ready to do this thing. t must not be. You put that girl there; now she must stay. My game is to be played fe Ardway’s will must stand, and—you must place it in my hands, or I'll spoil the whole business and get you into a messof trouble that will rout and ruin you. I guess you understand me.” The lawyer’s action and reply, when he had heard the s h through, was clearly a huge surprise to Desmond. ; e arose with a quick, Lag motion and leveled one eely finger toward the door. ‘“Clear out, sir! You are a rascal! This is the most consummate tissue of lies I ever heard outside of a court-room. Go—get out, or I’)l call the police!” ‘‘ You absolutely refuse to give me the will?” ‘‘T haven’t any to give. Begone, you scoun- drel!” ‘‘ Very well. We shall see.” The Prince burriedly arose and left the office. His face wore a look of rage, and, mingling with the rage, a sardonic smile that boded eyil for Silas Margrip. If there was truth in what Desmond had said, charging Margrip’s production of a faJse claim- ant to the beneficent intentions of Girard Ard- way, then Silas must have felt remarkably securein the plot, to so sternly defy the man who averred an intimacy with the crooked state of affairs, Within the hour there was another rap at the door. ‘Come in!” he snapped, crabbedly; for the more he pondered on the subject of his recent caller the more savage his mood became, A woman, deeply vailed walked in, She advanced to the chair, which was at once proffered. ‘*Bs seated, madam. Pleased to see you, What can 1 dofor you, to-day?’ he said, bis humor altered to a foxy blandness, ** You are Mr. Silas Margrip?”’ ‘Yes, thatis my name. Audacter et sincere.” ‘* You have dealings with, or are engaged pro- fessionally with a Mr. Ardway?” ‘* To tell the truth, I have not been his usual counselor.” ‘ * Usual,’ you say. But you have performed some recent service for him!” ‘‘ Well—a—yes. I am happy to say that through me a certain young lady was found, a daughter of an old friend of his, whom he wished to adopt as joint heir with his own chil- dren. That is about all. It is supposable that I might have served him further in the future but for the remarkable occurrence of his death, Abem! yes. Seriatim.” ‘*T have called to speak regarding this very case—the young lady—” ‘* Beg pardon, but what did you say your name was?” ** My name is Martha Crystol. I was the wife of Colonel Bernard Crystol, who died in Missouri many years ago.” As she spoke, she drew aside her vail, reveal- her face. t was Mrs. Clyde, Isabel’s mother! Silas Margrip started back in his seat and stared at ber as if she had thrown down and ex- ploded a bombshell at his feet. CHAPTER XVII. REMARKABLE REVELATIONS, RECOVERING with a gaspy breath from his overpowering amazement, the lawyer ex- claimed: ‘‘T hardly think I heard you aright, madam.” ‘*My name is Martha Crystol,” she repeated, more distinctly than before. ‘“But there must be some mistake,” S “About my being that person?” with a slight smile. ‘s"Yeu.” ‘Wh ?” “Martha Crystol, the widow of Bernard Crystol, died in Missouri years ago.” **Oh, no, she did not—’ ‘** And she left two children—orphans, cangh. ters and twins. One of these children, Lucy by name, was long since supposed to be dead; the other, whose name was Edna, I found, at Mr. in | eee ‘‘There are not only doubts, sir, but I must inform you that you are all wrong.” ‘Wrong, eb?” Margrip knitted his brows, ‘Quite so. I can readily comprehend, bow- ever, what bas misled you.” **Oh, you can?” ** Will you listen to what I have to say?” l ‘‘Certainly, madam, Proceed.” “At the time Colonel Crystol went to Mis- souri to live, he had there a brother who was also a colonel in a Missouri i during the war. His name was Maynard,” ‘* Maynard—Bernard,” interpolated Silas, “The names are apt to confuse, that’s a fact.” ‘‘It was Maynard Crystol who had two pe twins, whose names were Louie and ucy. Ah! Louie—” “And Lucy. Maynard died, and shortly subsequent his widow, also. I took charge of the children at my busband’s wish, though the brothers were not on friendly terms. The girl, Lucy, ran away from us when quite young. She was wayward and unmanageable always. Louie was the reverse, mild, good and affection- ate. We then went to the city of St. Louis, Colonel Crystol, my husband, had met with heavy losses; we were suddenly very poor, sud had determined to remove further West, One night the hotel at which we were temporaril stopping caught fire and was totally aereved: Unfortunately my husband had tbat very day converted everything be owned into cash and drafts, in view of our starting for the West, and we lost all, every dollar, in the flames. Worse than that, he received injuries from a falling fragment of wall, which proved his death with- in a month following. The little girl, Louie, we knew to have perished. Jt happened that night she was sleeping, innocent darling! as bedfellow with Fp ag to whom she was much attached, and neither was seen ever after- ward.” ‘*Medam, where have you lived during the past ten or twelve years?’ There was a sly light in Margrip’s ratty eyes. In truth he balf desired to credit his visitor's statement: a brilliant, cunning idea had entered his brain. ‘“My residence during that time has been here, in New Orleans,” ‘Singular tbat we were unable to find you, then. Mr. Ardway made a considerable out. } lay to ascertain all he could pertaining to Colo- nel Crystol’s family.” ‘* Not so strange, sir, for my real identity has been hidden under the name of Clyde.” “ ae you call yourself Mrs, Clyde?” “ Tes,’ “Can you establish the fact that you are Martha Crystal?” **T can.” “Widow of Colonel Bernerd Crystol?” ‘ “ Readily, if necessary—” “Of course it will be pecessary—of course,” broke in Silas, jerkily, and as if it was settled to be done at once. ‘‘ But, madam, permit me . to ask why you have kept in concealment under a false name?” ‘IT have no objection to telling you. The reason is brief. Colonel Crystol had a most un- happy quarrel with his relatives because of his marriage with me. Impoverished though I was I was too proud to accept any assistance from his kinspeople, even had they offered it, which is doubtful. I had no relatives living. I was utterly alone, had a hard struggle before me in the world, and concluded it would be better for Martha Crystol to drop out of existence, as it were. The same pride which caused me to do this has also prevented my pushing foward my own child, when I was long ago appri‘ed of the fact that Girard Scorer was seeking to make my daughter one of his heirs—” Stop, stop!” throwing up bis head in a new Te Lanitirtbhs ‘‘What’s this about a child of yours X Colonel Crystol and I had one child, ssh whom we christened Edna. I succeeded in rescuing her from the burning hotel, because she slept in acrib at my bedside. At the same time I assumed the name of Clyde, I changed her name to Isabel.” ) **And she is now living?—this child?—Isabel —or Edna?” ‘* She is.” Silas sprung from his chair and paced to and fro over the bare floor in some excitement, bis aoe behind him, whisking his coat tail up and own. _ The ratty eyes, the foxy features, the snake- lipped mouth, were involved in a broad grin of shrewd jubilance. He was in sudden gay humor. Inwardly he | was exclaiming: ‘IT want revenge upon the ungrateful girl— ~ here it is within my grasp. Hodie mthi, cras tibi! Aha, beware! I can avail of it: I can tread upon her! Oho! Remarkable. Wonder- ful. By blazes! I hope it’s all a fact. Look like it. Yes. Argumentum ad judicium.” . Ct r _— | ‘comicboo SS