Beadle's Dime Library, Vol. III, No. 29 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

x- Ww in m st a- is u 5 u YF aorrme Vv crew WY Wee - Cr cr 2 ae ry? me ee one a ee ee er of the man whom you say we were all mistaken in, and produce the real Cecil Beaumont alive, it may not turn out so calamitously as I feared, But Frederick, by his own confession, believed himself a murderer; and when he induced her to join him in his flight, he thought that he was linking her to a felon, and making her life one om exile—an endless hid- ing from outraged justice. Such an act is inexcus- able—it is a wrong without a palliation. Ihave al- ways esteemed him as my friend. I would not have believed him capable of so dastardly an action. am humiliated to have to say that I have been most sadly mistaken in him!”’ ** Well, Mr. Brewster, you have had your say; now let me have mine, Frederick Powell never had any- thing to do with the disappearance of Miss Gold- thorp, and is at this moment as ignorant as he is in- nocent of it.” ‘** But, sir, we have his own word for it. See! here is his letter. I forgot to return it to Mr. Creswell.” The detective glanced at the letter and smiled. ‘What do you think of this?’ he asked, drawing a pavers from his pocket and handing it to Charley, read: “A person answering the description of Frederick Powell was last night seen in this city, The matter did not come to the knowledge of the police until the man had again effected his escape. Prompt meas- ures have been taken for a thorough search.” “That is a copy of a telegram received this morn- ing from St. Louis,” said Draper, watching Charley with a curious smile. “Ah! but how easy to be mistaken in the identity of a person, where one has only a description to go by. The error which you ascribe to us, who have known ibe man for years, is ample illustration of my point.’ “T admit that you have me there,” laughed the detective; ‘‘ yet Ihave every confidence in the tele- gram, ”’ “But, my dear sir, his own_writing,’’ persisted Charley. And this letter must have been delivered yesterday, the very day on which you suppose him to have been hundreds of miles away.”’ Mr. Draper's eyes twinkled more merrily than ey- er, as Charley became earnest in the debate, “Mr, Brewster,” he said, ‘it seems to me very late in the day for you to yield your belief in humanit to the superficial appearance of things, Only a wee ago you would not believe him guilty of forgery, though the suspicion rested upon precisely the same sort of evidence—what seemed to be his own hand- writing.” ** And do you mean to imply that this is not his writing?” ‘*Ts it more likely than in the other case?”’ Charley started with a new idea, “And you say that Cecil Beaumont is alive—that you have seen him! What a fool I have been!” “Not at all. It only goes to show that as soon as we begin to defend our opinions, we all of us become partisan.” ‘*Mr, Draper, do you believe that Florence Gold- thorp is in the hands of Cecil Beaumont?” ‘“*}’'rom what you tell me, I have not the slightest doubt of it,” ** My dear sir, she must be rescued, and that speedi- ‘ly! ITshudder to think of her situation in his pow- er!’ cried Charley, earnestly, grasping the hand of the detective. ‘She shall be released to-night.” “Not before? Why delay? Every moment must be an Re of torture, and may see the consummation of a calamity that time cannot retrieve.” ‘“We must risk it. I dare not move until after dark. Precipitancy now might lose her beyond re- covery.” * But what prevents our going to her immediate- ? ‘Tam under the constant espionage of Tiger Dick, through his emissary, Shadow Jim, a most accom- plished spy, I must admit. He would make a kin of detectives. I have to proceed with the utmos caution, for fear of flushing my covey. Having you upon me in open daylight is a move to make them think that I have not my eye upon them, and do not know of their spying. they should sus- pect that I was familiar with their covert, they would flit, and then where should I look for them ain?”’ ‘I wait,’’ said Charley; ‘*‘ but it is with the most soul-harrowing forebodings.”’ CHAPTER IV. THE TIGER RUNS TO COVER, Wuen the news of Florence Goldthorp’s disappear- ance reached Tiger Dick he first swore roundly and then sat down and pondered deeply. In this second step he proved himself a philosopher; for while the former proceeding was productive of no results, the latter eventually gave him the key to the whole mystery. % Sent for by Fred Powell, and ran off with him— lie number one!"? he declared, decidedly. ‘‘ Fred Powell ain't within hundreds of miles of this little burg, to my knowledge. But if Fred didn't, who did?—-that’s the question, Who is interested in Miss Florence Goldthorp, aside from Fred Powell and Tiger Dick?” Then, as his thoughts became more concentrated, he ceased speaking. Gradually his lips set in harder and harder lines; a slumberous fire began to kindle in his eyes, his form began to dilate and tremble, until, at the culmination of the storm of passion, he brought his fist down on the table with a ringing blow that made everything on it leap, and burst into S h. Ps Ha Is the caitiff playing me false? I spared ** Hah! him once (when I thought it to my interest to do so!), ut if he nigs in ¢his game, curse him! I'll let day- light through his traitor careass on sight! Yet who but he could do this? Pah! he cares nothing for the yellow-haired baby to whom he is engaged, and he as good as told me, on our first meeting, that he loved this one. Curse my stupidity in what I said to him night before last! A man’s a fool when he’s ‘unk, anyway! This is the result of it. - ‘Well, old man,” he continued, apostrophizing the absent object of his wrath, “ you’ve zot the dead- wood on me this time; but if T don't make it hot for you next hand, just call me a flunk, or use my head fora football!’ -° TigeeehkAENs Aes. a ne oe ee ee He struck the table again, and leaping to his feet, | “‘everything is down, began to pace the room, t this moment the door opened and Shadow Jim | entered. “Hallo, boss! what's the row?” he asked, stopping on the threshold. “Come in, Jim,” said the Tiger, moodily. “D'ye think it’s perfectly safe?’ asked Shadow Jim, teasingly. “I thought you was driving piles by the noise. Idon’t know whether I want to trus myself alone with you, unless you think you are in a harmless state. What would my friends say, if they was to come in here and find the late lamented Jim all chawed up? Let me tell you that would be | avery melancholy occasion—for Jini!” | and of the imp | should he be found, said: No one could manage the ee when in a rage, | so well as Shadow Jim; and now inquiry and apprehension and seriousness restored and invective. the irate gambler to good humor. “Stow chaff, and come in and shut the door, Jim,” | he said. I know.” And he tac gh a decanter across the table, **Aecepted!”’ cried Jim, with alacrity; and kickin to the door, he, to use his own exvoression, * waltze up to the little lovey and brushed the dew from her sweet lips.” “* Here is something that will reassure you, | oy IT must begin to build again from the bottom. The game is fiown, and the world is before me to find them in.” And Charley, thinking of the awful peril that threatened Florence in the time that must be lost, ossibility of proving Fred's innocence, “God help her and him!” CHAPTER V. A FIENDISH DEED. WE now return to pick up a thread of the warp of our fabric, which has for some time been running beneath the surface. When Frederick Powell and Cecil Beaumont met on Dead Man's Bluff, the sense of deep injury in the 1is look of mock breast of the former broke forth in bitter accusation The hatred of the latter needed but a breath to fan it into aflame, and the two soon came to blows. . It chanced that neither was armed, Cecil having left his pistol at the bank; so that both were force to rely upon their skillin pugilism. In this they were retty well matched, and the conflict was of doubt- ul issue, But, as they neared the verge of the precipice, Cecil tripped on a vine and fell backward, but at the ‘** And now,” said the Tiger, ‘‘ You have heard of | same time struck Fred on the head with a stone, this i ag Sore of Miss Goldthorp?” ‘“*Pard, I have!” ** And do you believe that Fred Powell has had a hand in ity’ which he had picked up, bringing him insensible to the ground. When Fred recovered his senses he crept to the verge and looked over, seeing where Cecil had clutch- For answer Shadow Jim pulled down the corner of | ed at the shrubs in his descent, pulling them out b his eye, without removing his lips from the mouth of the bottle, at which he was also “ pulling.” **'Whom do you spot?” **Cash!"’ was the laconic reply. ie My man!” cried the Tiger, with vindictive fire in” 8 eyes. hang him up somewhere to drain.”’ ** And we've got a furlough to do it in,” said Jim, “Eh? What do you mean?” “ That we've took all the tricks we’re goin’ to this game, We've gotto pull up stakes and ligh out for another clearin’, or we'll git bagged, sure.” ‘** What's in the wind now?” “Why, that sharp from the Fast (and not so much from the East, either, accordin’ to my calculation) has got jest the ‘cutest leetle game put up on us that you ever see!—I mean Billy Saunderson’s bosom friend, It ain't the first time he’s held the ribbons old hoss,.now I can tell ye! He's only waiting to git the pins all in a row—and he'll git ’em there, pard! he'll git ‘em there, if we don’t step out 0’ line mighty lively—and then he’ll rake ’em in, body and breathes! There won't be no mourners; you can bet your bot- La ee = yew 1? : f ‘““And when does he propose to call th ~ asked Tiger Dick, iti fos “Who's to be our next President?” responded Shadow Jim, indicating by his reply that he had no means of judging when the detective would move. | } the roots. Listening he heard nothing but the bea ing of the waves at the base of the bluff and the mournful sighing of the freshening wind in the tree- tops. Chilled with horror at the deed of which he supposed himself guilty, he leaned out over the ‘Jim, we've got to put a hole in him, and abyss and called in a terrified voice: * Cecil! Cecil!” All the animosity died out of his breast, at thought that his rival lay lifeless in the depths of Dead Man's tin | Hole, hurled there by his hand. With bated breath and heart stilled in its beatin he waited and listened, But there was no sown pe the sobbing of the waves and the sighing of the wind. Then an awful horror seized him; an agony of fear turned the current of his blood to lee; and, stagger- mg v0 his feet, he fled the aecursed place, ut Cecil Beaumont was not dead. Ashe felt him- self going over the escarpment be clutched at the roots, but they gave way, and with a dizzy sense of horror he felt himself going down, down, down as he supposed to death in the seething waters below. But suddenly he felt his fall arrested, Then, blinud- ed by the dirt and stones that followed him, and half-insensible from the concussion, he found him- pos ona shelf of rock that ran along the face of the c . Getting upon his feet, he made his way along the ledge until he reached a point where he could ¢ “Look a-here, pard,”’ said the Tiger, an ugly look | up the bank. He then started toward town, passing coming into his eyes, ‘if this ey pecs to buckin against me, he'll find that I wasn’t kicked up hill and down dale in the mountains for fifteen years to be scared out by a flat in the States. I should hate awfully to turn tail, Jim, and we don’t Jearn to craw- fish out in the diggin's.” ‘It’s a knowin’ sharp that cries quits when he’s beat, Dick.” “But who says we're beat?" persisted the Tiger. “Why, look at the run o’ the cards yourself. There’s no chance o’ gittin’ anything more than we've got already; you're booked for pulling the bank; and the rest of us will be dancin’ on nothing for tak- ing moonlight strolls on Dead Man’s Bluff, the first thing we know. jest as cunnin’ fellers as you and me in his day, I tell ye, that sharp has handled | me by this time near the landing. At this point he suddenly came pie agroup of men, Two were kneeling on cither side of a prostrate man, searchirvg his } ockets, and the fifth was holding a dark lantern. At Cecil’s approach the ruffian dropped the lan- tern, and, leaping over the Lody, aimed a blow at Cecil with a club which he held ih his hand. “Hold up, McFarland!" cried the cashier, leaping aside; “* you have nothing to fear frcm me.” The others had sprung up and surrounded Cecil with drawn knives, ‘Who the devil be you?” demanded McFarland, suspiciously * You have dog, sed my footsteps encugh to know "said Cecil, a little bitterly. “Blowed if it ain't that’ tank sharp for whom Anyway he can play jest as lively music as we want | Tiger Dick has conceived such an affecticn of late,” to jig to, or [lose my guess.” said a voice, which we 1eccgnize as per ore, ‘ Well, there’s nothing to stay for, 2s you say, and | Shadow Jim, though Cecil had never heard it we've got to lay for the Prince; so 1 guess that ends the matter.” ‘By the way, I done a little runnin’ around before Ieame in, and found out and Pat Donavan’s precious self are out of town,” ‘Which means the Prince and Goldthorp?” ‘* Nothing else.” “T suppose there’s no use in our goin’ to that hole in me ground? Of course he’s made off with the sachel. ‘‘ Being a cashier, it would come natural for him to look after the rhino, you know,” replied Shadow Jim, with a wink anda grin, ‘When you find him, you'll find that he has froze to it, take my word.” “Well, here goes!"’ said the Tiger, rising from the ing the prostrate an table briskly. that Pat Donavan’s hack | ed McFar .. Be the powers, but it’s that same!" cor1oborated oole. “What air ye hangin’ around here fur?" demand- fan, with surliness, “That won't interest you. But you may have a lodker-on in your little game, if you don’t dispose of that body.” ' “What do you mean?” ‘That there’s a sport just up there on the bluff that may drop down on you at any moment,” “Tl take care of him,” said Shadow Jim. “ Whis- tle when yer ready to start.” And he glided off toward the crown of the bluff, ‘Whom have you got here?” asked Cecil, approach- motionless form, flat as we've ts) the finishin’ touch to, I'm He and his satellite then made a toilet that would | afeard,’’ said McFar have struck an observer as very remarkable. While apparently in simple wa suits, they had secreted about their gre uzzle a whole police force. ith a last look about e room, they pe out, locking the door; and half an hour afterward, had any person presented himself at “‘ Thewungle "’ for Tiger Jim, he would have had to look for them with very little prospect of success. ca That night Frame eee the detective and his | and then at Cecil in astonishment and wonder. men floated down Mississippi, and then struck off into the country, until they came to a rocky waste. Here, after much careful maneuvering, the detective introduced his men into a cave; and all their wariness and caution were rewarded by an op- ae, to stand and look at each other and at the re rock walls, by the light of dark-lanterns. Then, with a flush on tered the one word: “ Sold a And, turning upon his heel, he walked silently out, followed in like silence by the others. On their return_to town one of the pa patched to “The Jungle,” and returned with the in- telligence that although the bar was running, with | cern. ick and Shadow | pl was dis- | m a the lantern was turned upon his face. “He is in disguise,” said Cecil; and stooping, he disguises enough to | pulled a set of false whiskers from the man’s face. At the first mance he uttered a sharp cry and 5 re bub ey gyerrarning O'Toole. Mc- a red a cry, is was of surprise ° , but Cecil's had the rig of terror in it. ‘Dog my cats, if he ain’t jest the picter o' rself tain,” said McFarland, gazing first at . i e man Trembling in eve drew near. But his that of the man dead before him. limb, Cecil Beaumont again ace was white and bloodless as ing motionless and’ apparent! here was in his eyes a wild gli ter of horror and superstitious dread. Can it be he?’ he whispered, to himself, while McFarland and O’Toole looked on with mouth ape, s cheek, the detective ut- | Then, with a shudder: “Is he dead? See if is dead. I dare not touch him,” addressing McFarlan _with chattering teeth. The ruffian stooped down and unceremoniously thrust his hand beneath the vest of the prostrate an, - ‘Dead as a nit,” he replied, without show of con- “T hit him for keeps, you bet! was he any the ever-smiling Duff behind it, the door of the | relation o' yours?” gambling saloon bore the inscription: ‘“PLAYED ouT!”’ Then the detective sat drawing parallel lines, mak- ing them of the same length with the nicest exact- ness, as a man will give himself tosome trivial occu- ‘*No—no relation,” said Cecil, but his tones and manner belied his words. Then a sudden reaction took place. A sortof fierce satisfaction came into his face, as he said: . “Well, he’s dead now, and not by my hard. We could have followed me for but one purpose, Thero pation, when some elaborate and carefully-laid | is one less dog at my heels.” scheme has come to naught. . . ‘*Mr, Brewster,” he said, in a quiet tone of voice, ‘He'll never trouble nobody after this,” said Me- Farland, <S (e(e) ,OO mite (E(0)