Beadle's Dime Library No. 317 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

; ' Z:4 - - ee ee gee ee a _— ) —_ — - Qa. oot wm 2 ee ~ : Frank Lightfoot. the Miner Detective. darkened the life of still another being. All this have I done, yet now that the end is fairly before me, I hesitate—I forget the vow, the dying words of the one who—’’ The sentence was ended by a fiercely muttered oath, and his tightly clinched fist came down upon the picture of William Courtright with a force that dented both it and the bard wood of the table top beneath it. And that blow caused the other pictures to jump and flutter until one of them moved over and hid the handsome face of the murderer from view. Frank Lightfoot saw this, and bis face gradu- ally lost its fierce expression as he gazed steadi- ly down et that beautiful face, It represented a young woman of far more than ordinary love- liness, arch, smiling, bewitching, forcibly re- minding him of some ons whom be knew— whom he had recently seen—ha! With trembling fingers Frank Lightfoot picked up the picture and beld it in a more fa- vornble light, It was long since he had looked at it closely as now, for asa detoctive, he naturally felt more interest ip the sinner than the one sinned against; for this was the picture of the ill-fated wife of Thomas Courtright. But now, as he gazed, his heart throbbed un- ustally fast and hard, his breath came in short, quick gasps; for he felt as though he was Jook- ing at cet eee ae face of Mora Burgess! Only for the different manner of wearing the bair, and peculiarity of the garments, he could bave taken oath that Mora Burgess bad sat for that picture! **Can it—if it only could!” be muttered, bis eyes glowing, bis face lighting up wonderfully as the idea for the first time occurred to him. ‘**There was a child—a girl—and if still living it would be ahout ber age! Then the strong re- seinblance! Greater far than is common be- tween mother and daughter—so close that I could almost swear it was meant for none other than my darling! If it should be—an uucle is not like a father; and an uncle whose hands ara dyed red with the blood of her real father and mother!” He dropped the picture and rose to his feet, striding rapidiy to and fro, too deeply agitated to remain still. The motion served to steady his whirling brain, but with returning reason, it brought doubt and fears, If it was as he had madly hoped—if Mora Bur- gess seas in reality the child of Thomas and Edna Courtright; if William Courtright was in- deed their assassin, and if Jeter Burgess was that William Courtright—would he care to have the child of bis victims constantly with him? Would he not ratber flee from such an eloquent reminder of his frightful crime, instead of lavisbing such love upon it? 1m an idiot for even suffering such an idea to enter my head!” be muttered, with a short, hard laugh as he picked the pictures up and re- turned them to the book, placing that in bis breast-pocket. “ Like a drowning man, [ am catcning at the frailest straw that floats past me. lam letting a silly fancy for a fair face drive away thoughts of duty—a duty I owe to the dead—a duty I will perform, let the conse- quence be what it may!” be uttered, his voice ringing out so clear and firmly as to startle him- self, But if his tongue was stilled, his brain was none the less busy. And mentally be continued: **T must Joseno more time, Toat dirty scoun- drel will not lose much time in warning the criminal that I am on his track, and that will give me another cbase. If he has not already taken the alarm, I’!] have bim neck and heels before midnight!” Decidedly as he resolved, all the time Frank Lightfoot felt conscious of a resolve to give the supposed criminal every opportunity to clear his skirts of that double murder before actually arresting him. Not for his own sake, though the mine-owner had treated the detective kind- ly, courteously, rae the apparent difference in their position in life; but because of his pow- erful love for Jeter Burgess’s daughter. Satisfying bimself that his weapons were in working order, carefully hidden from casual view, though handy in case of need, Frank Lightfoot put on bis hat and left hisroom. He paused while passing through the bar-room long enough to answer a few questions concerning the unlucky bummer, then left the hotel, mov- ing slowly toward the bouse in which dwelt Jeter Burgess. This was somewhat removed from the denser —if such a term may be used to describe what at best was but a scattered collection of houses and shanties—portion of the town, Like his rtner, Frederick Lyon, Jeter Burgess had uilt ‘*in the suburbs,” and one could pass from one building to the other in a direct line, with- out entering the town at all. His brain busied with thought, Frank Light- foot moved slowly along. almost unconscious of . his surroundings, studying tne best manner of opening bis budget when once in the presence of Jeter Burgess; of how to get a private inter- view without alarming Mora; how to solve bis new-born suspicions without too plainly betray- ing his own band, Thus busied, he failed to notice the approach ef a young lady whose face was already glow- ing with more than ordinary emotion as her bright eyes took in his handsome face, bis stal- wart figure. Not until an embarrassed little laugh caught his ear did Frank Ligbtfoot return to himself, and then started back with a short cry as he found himself almost in contact with Mora Burgess, Blusbing, smiling, confused by his action, she murmured; * Really, Mr. Lightfoot, did you take me for a ghost? Am I so terrible an object as to fright- en my best friends?” CHAPTER XVI, A FAIR STUMBLING BLOCK IN DUTY’S PATH. It was plain enough to be seen that Miss Mora Burgess was but little more at her ease than the man who for asivgle moment stared at her as he might at a vision fresh from the clouds. Her blushing cheeks, her shy glances, her nervous manner, to say nothing of the slightly-strained voice with which she uttered her greeting, all went to prove this. Frank Lightfoot was not so blind but what he saw this, and while it made his heart leap for very joy, it restored his outward composure. Off came bis bat while his otber band quickly clasped the timidly-extended member with a respectful warmth that served to at once place the maiden at her ease. ‘*Your pardon, Miss Burgess,” he said, balf- laughing, half-gravely* ‘‘ I was so deep buried in the grave of the past that when aroused by your voice, I might well be pardoned for taking you for—not a ghost, but some celestial vision. t required a second glance to bring me back from heaven.” Mora laughed faintly, her disturbed com- posure by no means wholly regained, a little frightened by the burning light which she saw in those big blue eyes. **And yet, if I may say so,” she murmured, scarce conscious of what she really uttered, aoe face looked dreadfully cloudy for one whose thoughts were dwelling in the region of pure light. 1 almost expected to hear thunder in your tones and see the lightning flash from your eyes for my temerity in addressing you— yet I could not suffer you to pass without try- on rca you for all you did for me last night!" f the first words were rather artificial and forced, the concluding portion was sincere and earnest enough to sati-fy the most exacting. There was naught of affectation in the tone or face of the young woman as she caugbt the hands of the Miner Detective between both of hers, pressing them warmly, then suddenly bow- ing ber head until ber warm lips touched thern. A faint exclamation escaped her as she felt them grow cold as ice in ber hands before they were swiftly withdrawn, and she glanced up into the face of their owner. Frank Lightfoot was pale asd eatb, his countenance painfully distorted, while his eyes were blazing with a light that startled while it sent a strange thrill through her veins, ** You are ill?’ she hastily uttered. ‘* Let me call for—” Once more the sound of her voice proved suf- ficient to restore the Miner Detective to his wonted composure, at least in outward seem- ing. His tones were steady as he replied: ** Not ill—only startied by seeing how serious- ly you seem to regard the slight service I was, happily, enabled to render you last evening, Miss Burgess.” ‘* Slight!” echoed the maiden, her face flush- ing, her voice ringing with mingled reproach and gratitude. ‘*Do you call it slight, when you preserved me from a frightful death? hen you saved me twice over—once from that hideous wretch who was bearing me away to Heaven only knows what frightful doom, and again when I bung to those frail twigs, feeling my strength rapidly failing me—bearing the waters roaring below, as though exulting— Ab! it was horrible!” With a little shudder, Mora covered her eyes with her hands. Frank Lightfoot made an im- pulsive movement toward her, as though about to clasp her in his arms and constitute bimself consoler-in-chief, but only to draw back, put- ting his hands behind bim, clasping them to- gether until the flesh turned white with the spasmodic pressure. ‘If | might venture to advise you, Miss Bur- gess,” he said in slow, steady tones, that caused the girl to suddenly uncover ber face and gaze at him wonderingly for a moment, ‘it would be to banish such thoughts forever; to forget that last nigbt brought forth anything out of the ordinary run of events; and, above all else, never—” With a short laugh the Miner Detective broke off of bis own accord, leaving bis sentence in- complete, substituting: ‘*Pardon my presumption. Miss Burgess, if you can. What right have I to offer advice. or to think that you would follow it, were I to prove a very oracle in my wisdom?’ Mora locked into hia face wistfully, her eyes showing how troubled and grieved she was at his strauge words and stranger looks, Then, with the impulse of a true-hearted woman, she again caught his hand, speaking rapidly, earnestly: ‘* You bid me forget all—forget that I am in- debted twice over to you for the life I still en- joy—but I will vot believe that you mean all that implies. You may regret baving acted on the impulse of the moment; may regret baving risked your life for the sake of preserving mine; but I never can. While I live, 1 will remember! While 1 live, I will have before my eyes the sight of your face as 1 beheld it descending, es it seemed then, from the clouds—from Heaven itself—to save me from death! While I live, I will never forget the sourd of your voice as — spoke to me then! And you—you should the last man on earth to wish me to be so ungrateful!” Her steady geze drooped before bis, He could see her trim form trembling with suppressed emotion, and ke could not attribute it wholly to gratitude. Yet be was forced to choke down the glad words which leeped to bis lipe—forced to recall the sacred duty which he owed the dead, the oath which bis lips had uttered while his right band rested upon that pulseless breast —forced to close |is eyes to what might weil prove paradise, and gaze only upon its oppo- site. It was hard to do, but bis stern will was equal to the task. ‘*Be it so, then, Miss Burgess,” he uttered, with a forced leugh that seemed to her almost like a blow. ‘* Perhaps it is too soon for me to appeal to soher reason, but the time will come when you will take a juster view of the matter. That fl caved you from an awkward tumble, I’m free to confess, but that 1 thereby saved your life, 1] can hardly admit. 1 took the fall myself, and still 1am here to tell the wondrcus tale. But, to change the subject, bave you beard how your friend, Miss Lyon, is progress- ing to-day?” ‘*She is better, I believe,” was the low reply, Mora plainly struggling to quell ber powerfully excited emotions, ashamed to make any further exhibition of them before one so callous, so —~ resolved to ignore the great services he ad rendered her. ‘* Her injuries were not very severe, but she is still suffering from the shock and fright. I am on my way to the bouse to pass the evening with her.” ‘Then I will detain you no longer from your charitable duty,” he bowed, stepping aside from the patb as though to give her free pass- age. pe mechanically stepped forward, but then paused. She glanced toward the bouse which she had recently left, then around ber. There was no other building to be seen in the direc- tion in which Frank Lightfoot was going when sbe met kim, and a very natural belief aesailed her mind. Still, she hesitated to mention it, for his strange manner had filled her with un- easiness, seeming to build up a barrier between them. Tne Miner Detective noticed her hesitation, and spoke: ‘By the way, your father; is he at home, Miss Burgess?” ‘You are going to the bouse, then? I am so glad!” with a return of tbe girlish impulsive- ness which Frank Lightf ot found so bard to resist. ‘* Father is at kome, and be wiil be so glad to see ne He has not had an opportunity of fairly thankireg you for ae what be— rightly or not—calls bis treasure. ou a re- fuse to listen to me, but you will not find it so easy to place a spell on bis lips,” she laughing] added, blusbing most charmingly as Fran Lightfoot mentally decided: **Tf I call on him, it will be for a very differ- ent purpose than listening to thanks which are neither deserved nor hoped for,” was the grave response. ‘* You are pleased to make mucb of a very simple act. What I did was no more than my plain dutv—no more than any man would have done had chance thrown the oppor- tunity in his way.” ‘On that point you and father will diffor quite as radically as we two,” with a positive nod of the kead. ‘I only wish I bad not prom- ised—that is—” Feeling that she had suffered impulse to carry her ng y be too far, Mora paused, blushing. Frank Lightfoot bowed gravely, his tone cold and almost harsh as he replied to the broken wish, ratber than what she had uttered: ‘You would find it but dry enjoyment, lis- tening to our conversation on purely business matters, | fear, Miss Burgess. In this case at least, duty offers the best reward; and duty bids you keep your engagement with your in- jured friend.’ The flush died away from her face, and there was justa faint sparkle of resentment in her black eyes as Mora mapged a courtesy to the seemingly stolid man, then turned and glided rapidly away in the direction of the Lyon resi- dence. But her resentment was not sufficient- ly great to prevent her casting a glance over her shoulder before she had gone many rods. Shesaw Frank Lightfoot standing whera they parted, gazing intently after her, and as she hurried on there was a soft light in her dark eyes, a faint smile plaving around ber red lips, Frank Lightfoot did not feel much in the humor for smiling, though ne bad such a pleas- Ebooks €om ‘-