Beadle's Dime Library No. 258 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

' , ‘Certainly. At least.” he added, I have always been told so.” ‘* Have you seen his grave?” ‘‘ He was lost’ on the Mississippi, by the de- struction of a steamer.” ‘* We will not argue that, for it is unimpor- tant. Allow me to ask what you know of this parent—of his life, labor and character?” Allen hesitated. —- ee tional recital which made Rose Jackson quite as much of an angel as girls usually are, while her father stood out as a tyrant who mocked him for his father’s errors. Jacob fell into the trap and spoke explosively, but what be said was far from Allen’s mind, | and not only unexpected but amazing. | ** How dared he? ‘‘ As he died when I was a mere child,” he | evasivel him. y mother and uncle, however, will tell ou of him,” * T already know all I care to,” was the dry reply. ‘‘ Some records are best left covered by a vail.” Allen flushed with anger, ‘* Your words, Mr, Jackson, require an ex- planation,” he said, more warmly than he knew. ‘What do you know that is not, creditable to my father?’ ‘‘ Among other things, the fact that he fled from St. Louis something like twenty years ago after being the chief in a plot to roband garrote aman on the street, The scheme was carried out so far as the garroting was concerned, but as the thieves were securing their plunder they were attacked in turn—by the police. One of them, Thomas Quain, was recognized, but, be- ing strong and desperate men, they fought their way out of immediate danger and fled, even as Quain afterward fled from the city.” Allen listened to this statement in amaze- ment. ‘*T do not believe it!” hedeclared, ‘For verification, I refer you to the police records,” was the unmoved reply. ‘“ And you charge my father with being a thief and murderer?’ | ‘You have heard, But,” the older man added, ‘‘I know of no way to prove hima murderer, The’ victim of the affair just de- scribed, recovered. Unless some other episode in Mr. Quain’s life rises to the dignity of mur- der, he had, or has, no human blood on his hands,” Allen Quain stared at the speaker like one in adream. Hedid not doubt but that Jackson spoke according to his belief, but while he saw that there was indeed a barrier between and himself, he.was far from being convinced that he was a murderer’s son, At the same time, however, he could not forget that Mrs, Quain had often genet repulsed all hisefforts to learn anything of his late father’s life, He had attributed this to the revival of a vain sorrow on her part, and respected ber, wishes as such, but he now began to see more ways than one to account for it. He made an effort to recover his calmness. ‘*’'You have spoken of what I have never be- fore heard, but. I shall now investigate earnest- ly. And—and—in case,” began the young man stammeringly, but he recovered bis comman of speech in a moment; ‘In case all is as you sa ust I then be judged by my father?” . Jackson frowned. “You are resolved that I shall wound you in every possible way,” he said, with vexation born of real regret. ‘‘ You force me to add that Ltrust your mother’s family as little as I do your father. Against your mother, I will not y a word; I know of nothing to her discredit. f you are as well informed as you ougbt \o be however, you must know that Eben Garland bears the reputation of being one of the, most rafty, hypocritical aud unscrupulous lawyers en colored deeply, for the charge against his uncle was not new, the, same fine he was so overwhelmed by pain and mortification that he felt only an earnest desire to get away from Jackson’s house.. The terrible; but by no means malicious, ac- cusations had deprived him of all mental _ Such being the case, he made a few hasty re marks, the meaning of which he could not bave told three minutes later, and somehow found | his. way to. the street. - The ordinary reader can not understand how heavily this blow had fallen on him. while bhorqugply manly and of a cool, practi- cal nature, he was very sensitive in soma ways, It bad been a thorn ia his flesh that Eben Gar- land should mix such dubious arts with his law practice, and now he was called upon to know that his father had been a thief and gar- roter. ' | But bad Mr, Jackson spoken truly? That was answered, “I remember nothing of | — -+——_—_—_ -——_ | | | | | Even | —E—E —— * ‘“ How dared he do it?’ cried the old man, Tl have him understand you're as good as he is, There ain’t no Quain blood in your veins, nor Garland blood, either; and I defy Jackson to say anything against your parents, for nobody knows who they are !” Allen Quaim had indeed shot at one target hit another, and he sat staring blankly at Jacob. ‘“What!” he cried, after a moment, ‘* Wasn’t Thomas Quain my father?—isn’t Mabel Quain my mother?” ‘* No!” declared Jacob, ‘‘ for I was there when Tom brought you in, one wet night, with your little body soaked to the skin, and he said, * We will take this boy in Pave of our own; I was hired to put him out of the way, but I can’t do it Allen had grown more bewildered. ‘*‘ How can he put me in the place of his own?” ‘‘ Didn’é [ tell you? His boy died, and I was there to look out for the house while Mrs. Quain wept over her babe in the next room, Tom had gone off like a shot, two hours before, and we didn’t know why, but we saw clearer when he came in with the second babe—yourself.” “Will you swear to this?” Allen cried, start- ng up. Jacob hesitated. ‘*- Yes, I will,” be then said, sturdily. ‘I swore to Tom Quain, then, that 1 would never blow on him, for he wanted a son to inherit Eben Garland’s wealth, but if the fact that Quain was supposed to be your father is going to hurt you, it’s time for me to tell the truth. You’re no Quain!” “Then, in Heaven’s name, who am I?” cried the young man. i CHAPTER VL. THE SECRET OF TWENTY YEARS. ALLEN had felt a temporary exultation on learning that none of that blood which Mr, Jackson ohjected to flowed in his veins, but the emotion was severely shaken when it was fol- lowed by the one which he put into words—if he was not a Quain, who was he? The question caused old Jacob to hesitate. ‘*T’m sure I don’t know,” he admitted, after & pause, Allen .sat. staring blankly at bis old friend. He had received two severe blows in one day and they struck at the most vulnerable point of an honorable man after bis own honor is ex- cepted— that of his parents. | lying, he questioned Jacob further, but. it was little he could tell, Twenty years before he—Jacob Vail—had been a dependent on the bounty of Eben Gar- land, by reason of an accident which pang a oy to him when be was working for Garland. The nature of the accident would probably have iven him two thousand dollars in a court of aw, but Eben, with. his usual astuteness, com- promised the matter by harbcring him until he was well; after which, as Eben’s circumstances had improved, he was retained as a servant. At the time of the accident Garland was a clerk in the banking-house of Reginald Sinclair, and Thomas Quain. was living by his wits about town. His wife, it will be remembered, was Garland’s sister. ) From this fact Quain hoped for a golden fu- ture. Garland was well-to-do, and Quain knew his, nature well enough to feel sure he would one day be rich, and it was his pet scheme. that his son should inherit his brother-in-law’s money, As a result, he had been furious when his child fell suddenly ill and died, but, according to Jacob, he bad substituted another child with remarkable quickness; and that child Jacob, from seeing him almost daily, was ready to swear was the young man who then sat opposite him in the room, “Tt is singul:i.r you gained no clew to who I really was,” said Allen, as we will continue to call him, who had listened most attentively. “Not at all. Quain was afraid Garland would detect the cheat and make a fuss, so he made us swear never to mention the matter. just what he intended to learn, and he was on | Your mother—that is, Mrs. Quain—was so is way to ask t beep so kind to him. . _ He little suspected that that day was destined to merk a great change in his life. | that mother who had always afraid of Tom that she never would have dared open her mouth. Mr. Jackson didn’t color the portrait of Tom Quain a bit. He was a hard man. I believe every crime known to man was 6 was striding through a humble street on his head and hand—and yet his fellow- ‘when bis. name was pronounced and he turned | criminals called bim the squarest man that ever to see an old man who was no stranger. He had been Eben Garland’s servant for many Feare, until overtaken by age and its infirmi- es, and it at once flashed upon Allen that there was thé chance to learn something. of Thomas Quain. | Vv, At the same time, he knew old Jacob would protect his feelings in an ordinary case, and ‘once in the old man’s room he made up a sensa- | lived,” Jacob slowly added. It was all he could tell, and when convinced of the fact Allen Quain left the room and con- tinued his way homeward. He walked with a firm step and an erect head, for he had formed a fixed resolution. He would know bis parent- OF spend his life in trying. He felt relieved at having cast off the Quain and Garland blood, and though the future ee —— ee ee EO - O — - — O C?0—_ OOOO Ce DN eee. eee 6 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. $3 might have worse in store for him, he would try his luck. , ‘Eben Garland is now at bis office and I will go to my mother and entreat her to tell me all,” Despite what be had Jearned, Allen was in no hot haste to cast off Mrs. Quain. If not his mother, she had been a tender and affectionate abet and guide, and her words of counsel iad instilled into his mind principles of honor which, from Garland’s point of view, constituted his only weakness. Mabel Garland was very different from her brother, and would have lived an exemplary life had she been wedded to an honorable man: and even the five years she spent in Thomas Quain’s society had not swerved ber far from honor’s path. Her only fault was her weakness; a fault which caused her to bear the infamy o Quain and Eben in silence and protect their miserable and guilty secretg. a se a case is not new in the annals of woman- ind, Once in her society, Allen bluntly stated what he had learned, making the revelation as plaim and terse as possible. ' Mrs. Quain dropped at once into a chair and her pale face became paler yet. She looked like one whom a rude wind would sweep away like a feather, and this was one of the great shocks of her life. ‘*T know all,” resumed Allen, impetuously, ‘that occurred in your bouse.. [ know of the death of your own child and how Thomas Quain substituted another, so that Eben Gar- land’s fortune need not be lost to the Quain family, In fact, I know all except one thing. I am not your son; who, then, am [?” The young man had hoped by thus hastening matters to wring an unguarded admission from Mrs. Quain’s lips, but she was too deeply moved to speak even one word. He drop on his knees beside her. “* Won’t mar answer my question?” he plead- ingly asked. Mrs. Quain rallied somewhat; she drew a deep breath like one in pain, and then the tears started from her eyes, ‘*'You know, you know!” she uttered, ‘‘ and I have lost him whom I bave called my son; I have lost his love and his respect.” ° “Wrong, mother, wrong. Hear:—1 still call you by that noble name, for you have been the good angel of my existence. You have not lost me, for I will never desert you. If by any chance better days should come to me, you must share them.’ Mrs. Quain was deeply touched, and he soon succeeded in drying ber tears, after which he repeated his question in a persuasive manner. he timid woman shivered. ‘« I dare not tell,” she said. ** Why not?” “Because I swore to my husband that I would not.” “Do you fear that you would be held blam- able for breaking an unjust ish etl ‘‘ Not by Heaven—” she began, quickly, and then paused. ‘* By whom, then?’ Allén asked; and then, as she did not answer, he added: ‘* You are thinking of Thomas Quain?” ‘* Yes,” she hesitatingly admitted. - “ T will protect you from him. His character has been described to me and I do not wonder at your feelings, but I promise he sha]! not harm you, Besides, is not his long silence, covering as it does nearly a score of years, a proof that be is either dead or has forsaken all who knew him here?’ Det “<7 feel that he is still alive; that I shall see him again, and that, too, to my cost,” the un- fortunate woman said, shivering. ‘* Besides, I know nothing of your parentage.” The last words were spoken in a manner which Allen was not slow to interpret. ‘“But you have a suspicion,” he added, quickly, ee scat yy | “T did not say so,” she as quickly returned, Allen felt himself progr ssing slowly, but it was at least balf an hour before he could make her confess anything. Then, she first admitted what Jacob had told, and when duly urged, she went further, : ‘“‘T have always had a suspicion,” she said, with another shiver. ‘“* The second day after you came into our house a fine gentleman called tosee Thomas. They were closeted together for some time, and I would not have dared listen if [ had wished to, but at one point a sin- ular remark greeted my ears as I was passing the door. «What have you done with the child? asked the visitor. ‘ye ‘« «He has gone to feed the Mississippi fishes,’ Thomas replied. ° : ‘‘*Do you speak the truth? was the sharp demand. ‘* ¢T swear it!’ Mr. Quain solemnly said. “ ¢ Very well; I accept your word; but if I find you have deceived me, I will put you in rison for a term which will whiten your hair hind the bars!’ , “My busband protested that be spoke the truth and his visitor seemed satisfied. but a suspicion had seized me, The child of which they spoke was the same one that Thomas had S) cComicboo “! Com Rae te eee eee ee gn & e& gL