Beadle's Dime Library No. 317 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

a Frank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective. almost certain there would have been no fright- fu' tragedy to record!” He spoke with earnestness, his dark eyes glowing, his handsome face marked by strong emotions, though this was of sbort duration. As though conscious of having betrayed too deep an interest in a story with which he claimed only the most remote connection, the mine-owner sunk back in bis chair, smoking rapidly until a blue cloud obscured those keen eyes which were watching bim so intently. ‘‘T am not defending Tbhomes Courtright,” coldly resumed the Miner Detective. ‘As you say, he might have followed a more manly course; but be loved his brother as few brothers love, and I suppose be was afraid of adding to his evident misery. Avyway, he kept his secret to himself, “The brothers were not rich. They were barely making a living wbere they were, and as the Cherry Creek fever was then at its hight, it is not so strange that William Courtright should propose their trying their fortunes in Colorado or that the easily influenced Thomas should yield to his wishes, Anyway, that is how it turned out, The brothers settled up their affairs and set their eyes toward the land of riches. “Before they departed, Thomas Courtright had an interview with Edna Irving, which partially opened the eyes of them both to the truth. Where the gay and impetuous William had failed to carry the day, the modest and retiring Thomas had made an impression which was not easily to be rubbed out, If there were no vows exchanged between the young couple that evening, it was only because they both feared the hot anger of William too much to suffer their lips to utter what their eyes so plainly expressed. ‘* Still, Tuomas bore his brother company to the promised land. And dainty missives fol- lowed him, directed—stiil with an honest fear of hurting the sore heart of the rejected lover— to another name. And contrary to the old adage, their love only grew the stronger with absence, until it finally culminated in mar- riage. eT his was kept from the knowledge of Wil- liam, though the young couple agreed that he must sogn be told all; they would only wait until it could be done by degrees, thus softening the inevitable shock. ‘The wedding ceremony was performed in secret, while Tom was absent, as his brother believed, on business connected with their mining claims, at Omaha. Instead, Tom ran down to St, Louis, where he was met by Edna, whose parents believed her on a visit to a schoolmate. They passed one blissful week to- feenets then parted, to meet only once again iu ife. ' ‘‘Tom returned to his mine and his brother, happy asagod. He meant to break the news to Will without delay, but the weeks and the moovths rolled on without the secret being told, ‘‘ The old love was not dead yet. Hardly an evening passed without Will’s touching on the matter, saying thet he would one day try bis fortunes again, He was only waiting until he got rich, Then—and as often as Tom ventured to hint that possibly some other might have met with better fortune, his hot rage flamed out and he would swear to kill both Edna and her lover, if such should prove to be the case, ‘‘Tt was weak and unmanly, I admit, on his art: but I am not acting as the advocate of he Courtright. The course he followed was thickly strewn with mistakes, but none of them wicked enough to deserve the terrible unishment which fell to his portion in that lack, bitter time coming!” Frank Lightfoot ceased speaking, bis eyes watching the face of his host closely; but there was naught to be read there save polite atten- tion. And once more that doubt assailed him, Could it be possible that the real criminal—the man who had steeped his bands in the life- blood of a brother and that brother’s no less in- nocent wife—could sit there and listen to the story of bis dastardly crime without showing the slightest trace of compunction or remorse? If not, then Jeter Burgess could not be the vile assassin, could not be the long missing William Courtright! But cold reason told the detective that his proofs could not have led bim so far astray, and be resolutely banished the doubt, resolved to shake the iron nerves of this matchless dissimu- lator before the end was reached, ‘In those early days, it was slow and uncer- tain work for letters to find the one addressed, if situated anywhere among the more remote diggings, and though poor Edna wrote to her busband when troubles came thick and fast upon her, he never learned the whole truth un- til they met face to face. Otherwise, weak and yielding as he bad shown himself in bis dread of his brother, he would certainly have hastened to her, rather than waiting for her to seek him in those wild regions, ‘‘ Some of the letters miscarried; others were delayed; and thus be was taken completely by surprise when a pasting friend brought bim a ackage of mail from Denver, to learn of ber ntended visit. There was not time for him to go to Denver to meet her, and he had given her full descriptions of the mine and its surround- ings, he knew she would lose no time in coming direct to him. ‘Then he had to break the tidings to his bro- ther, without delay. Hedid it as gently as lay in his power, but you, who know something of the fiery temper of William, can guess how the heavy blow was received.” He paused as though expecting a reply or some comment, Jeter Burgess waited to dain- tily brush the ashes from the tip of his cigar before speaking; but when he did answer, his voice was calm and steady, as though he had but a very faint interest in the subject under consideration: ‘The result unfortunately shows that but too clearly. A man cursed with such an un- governable temper is more to be pitied than condemned,” ‘“ What! you surely do not hold him justified in his bloody deed?” cried Frank Lightfoot, startled despite his nerves. ‘* Not at all; I simply say that he was not wholly without excuse. His brother knew of his passionate love for this woman; he had been the first confidant chosen by the heart-sore man; he had been a patient listener during all those months of seclusion to the burning hopes and wishes of bis brother; yet he had said not a word, made not a sign that could enlighten the poor devil! All the time he had been living a lie, silently listening to another man’s plans and hopes for winning the woman who was already a wife! Put it to yourself, my dear sir,” Jeter Burgess said, his voice growing calmer than it had been while hastily enumerating fhe wrongs which William Court- right bad suffered. ‘* Was there not some ex- cuse for bis anger?” ‘* Possibly; but not for committing murder!” **Is it so sure that he did commit it?” was the slow rejoinder. ‘‘I know that the circumstan- tial evidence was terribly strong—as well as I can recall the facts or assumptions as they were published at the time—but I remember, too, that there was nothing which could not be ex- plained away—” ‘Including the complete disappearance of William Courtright?’ swiftly interjected Light- foot. ‘‘ Remember that he was never seen to be recognized after that dark and bloody night!” ‘That, I admit, seems to fasten the crime upon his head,” slowly replied the mine-owner, watching the rings of smoke rise toward tbe ceiling. “It is the blackest point in all that dark record; but even that might bear a differ- ent explanation. Might be not have met with the same fate? Might it not be that he also was slain, his body wholly consumed in the flames, or— ‘The remains discovered were taken from the hottest part of the fire. Had be been a sharer of their fate, some traces of bis body would have remained.” “Yet he might have died, and been hidden somewhere among the rocks, the more surely to avert suspicion from the actual criminal. Mind, my dear sir, [ am not saying that such was actually the case; I only repeat the reasonings which [ remember occurred to me when I first heard of the sad tragedy.” “They are ingenious, I admit, but unfor- tunately they are not borne out by after events,” coldly added the Miner Detective, one hand slipping into bis breast as he uttered the words, ‘ There was one point on which neither you nor I have as yet touched, which is conclu- sive evidence as to the guilt of William Court- right. We will come to that later! ‘* As I said, after Zapata the letter which announced the coming of his wife, Thomas Courtright could do nothing but await her ar- rival, amusing himself the while brushing the cobwebs from before the eyes of bis brother. This be must have done, after a fashion, for though he was at the point where the stage passed nearest to his claim, he was alone, so far as the tapes, 1g aboard the coach could see, They afterward bore evidence that a more joy- ous meeting never came before their notice. All was joy and rapture—unconscious of curious eyes, the husband and wife embraced and showered their overflowing love on each other. It was a happy sight. ‘And yet, that same night—she was foully murdered! And murdered by the original of this picture!” Frank Lightfoot cried, at the same moment dropping two photographs face up on the table before the mine-owner, Keenly he watched for the expected self-be- trayal. CHAPTER XIX, A CLIMAX POSTPONED, Tr was less pronounced than Frank Lightfoot had anticipated, but still the mine-owner be- trayeda certain degree of emotion as those por- traits of the murdered dead were so abruptly spread before his eyes. His face certainly turned a shade or two paler, while the half-smoked cigar dropped from his fingers as he visibly shrunk back; but that was all. Almost immediately he recovered himself and bent forward with his eyes fixed steadily upon 21 ~ the photographs, One brief glance at the pic- tured face of the handsome young man, then bis gaze was riveted upon the otber—on the laugh- ing, charming features of the woman who had met such a terrible doom. Almost breathlessly Frank Lightfoot watched, his own eyes glowing with a fire such as none save the successful bunters of men can compre- hend, for he felt confident that, if really the guilty man, Jeter Burgess must sureiy betray himself when thus unexpectedly confronted by the likeness of his victim. And once again that painful doubt assailed bim as he saw bow calmly the mine-owner scanned the picture, now holding it in a more favorable light with fingers that showed not the slightest tremor. Surely a guilty wretch could na: hold bis nerves so thoroughly under ccon- trol. “Well, what do you think of it?” sudderly demanded Frank Lightfoot, bis voice barsh and bitter, irritated by repeated failures to produce the effect he anticipated. The photograph dropped from the band of the mine-owner and his dark eyes were lifted until they calmly met those blazing blue orbs, His voice was cool and even as be said: ‘*It is very like, if my memory does not fail me, though it was taken when she was very young. I think I have a better one, if you would like to see it.” As he spoke, Jeter Burgess rose from the table and crossed the room, pausing in front of a secretary. Frank Lightfoot distinguished a faint click as of a secret spring or a key turning in a peculiar lock. Then the mine-owner turned once more and returned to the table, a sma!l book in his hand, ‘*T hardly think I can accuse myself of being a sentimental man,” he said, with a slight laugh, as be unlocked the book with a tiny key attached by a golden chain, *‘ but | must plead guilty to keeping an album containing pictures of those who were, in the days gone by, my friends. Among them—see!” He opened the book near the middle, placing it before the Miner Detective, Frank Lightfoot uttered a low ejaculation of surprise, for before bim lay a speaking likeness of the one who bad been Edna Irving. It showed a woman, rather than a girl, and was plainly a more recent like- ness than any he had before seen of her, From what be knew, he felt certain that it had been taken since the secret marriage of Edna Irving. How had it fallen into the bands of this man whom—did he feel positive he was William Courtright, the escaped assassin? Frank Lightfoot found himself asking that’ puzzling question still again, With all his expe- rience and knowledge of criminals—extensive for one of bis age—he was pag Pas to feel lost in a fog. If this was indeed William Court- right, he was a marvelous sector, with nerves of steel and a face of stone. Surely so vile an as- sassin would not keep the likeness of his victim to serve asa constant reminder of the bloody deed? Surely he could not look and speak so unconcernedly about it? With these thoughts flasbing across his brain, Frank Lightfoot mechanically turned over the leaves of the album, pausing as be came to the photograph of a young man whom be instantly recognized as William Courtright. But what was bis surprise when Jeter Burgess, leaning forward, with a faint smile on bis pale face, ut- tered the words: ‘Your humble servant when he was a score of vears younger than at the present time!” *“ Your picture!” exclaimed the detective, taken off his guard. ‘**That of William Court- right, you mean?” Jeter Burgess silently picked up the photo- or which Lightfoot had preduced in the first plece, and laid it beside the one in the al- bum. Then he said, lightly: | ‘*Circumstantial evidence is not always in- fallible, my dear sir, as you will admit when you come to examine those two pictures closely. William Courtright and myself used to be thought something alike when we were young men together, though it was seldom one was mistaken for the other.” Frank Lightfoot closely «xamined the photo- graphs side by side, and though he found the resemblance between them sufficient to deceive ove at the first glance, be had no difficulty in deciding that they had indeed been taken from two different faces. And as be gazed, that old doubt came back to him more persistently than ever, Dearly as he would have liked to discov- er the long-lost assassin in some other than the father of Mora Burgess, bis detective pride was awakened, and he crushed the doubt to silence, “With a picture of Calvin Apperley, your collection would be perfect!” he laughed, bis eyes barder than ever. ‘*] was not sufficiently intimate with the gen- tleman for an exchange, which, in those days, implied far more than it does at the present time,” coolly replied the mine-owner. ‘You will know him better before we part, perhsps,” was the quick retort, whose bidden significance seemed entirely lost on the mine- epee, “You expect him here, then?” ** If he should come?” cComicbooks.co