Beadle's Dime Library No. 351 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

a Tes Se eo -* d 4 le . rd \ < TL os ~ Py ~& ‘ z - ' - . oa = Lh - a - flag Pe. at. So rt e+ Pas le &, - <a te & AS ak - —<— - _—— ~2> ‘ —_ .* > ie . 7 oy : 12 the wonderful acumen i ei by the experts present had disconcerted. For fear another forge should be fastened upon him, the accused had swal- lowed tte prepared paper, knowing that the truth would prevail. . “The end of it was that my brother received a ssentence of ten years for forgery. ‘While waiting to be sent to the State’s prison, ‘to which he had been sentenced, Marjean Ovelman called upon him. During that brief interval, my o--Sy Ss —= aie ¢ ~ brother had had time to reflect, and though he did | not regret what he had done, to save her name from shame, his love for her died so utterly that when she came to him, all traces of weakness vanished, and he poured out upon her head the vials of his wrath, finally cursing her for having made a wreck of his life. She swooned at his feet, and was car- ried away by the jailer, whom he summoned for | that purpose. He never saw her again, that lam aware of. ; ‘But another woman came to see him—an ouf- cast, some might call her, but she possessed the one | great virtue of fidelity to the man whom she loved. “TIT can’t tell you just how it was all carri d out, but I know that this woman aided my brother to escape from jail on the very eve of the day he was to have been transferred to Sing Sine. They were followed, but there was a frightful railroad accident, and she was found among the dead. With her was another body, frightfully mangled about the head and face, but it was identified as that m y of brother, and the pursuit was ended, almost ere if began.” Being est Nick ceased speaking and rose from his air. “T have redeemed my promise, when I add that my brother was not killed In that accident. He es- caped, and to the best of my belief, is vet living—is here in Rocky Bar, turned professional gambler, and bearing the name of St. Clair Guthrie.”’ ‘ Dan Brown also arose, a peculiar smile on his ace, “A strange story, and explaining much that oc- curred this evening. Do you still desire my candid opizion of the matter?” ee you choose to give it,’’ carelessly repliec the other. ** Then—the story you have told me is that of—nol St. Clair Guthrie, or your brother, ut ,ovr own!” “You are wrong. The story is my brother’s,” coldly said Nor’ West Nick, unlocking the door and leaving the room, CHAPTER XII, NOR’ WEST NICK MAKES HIS BOW. ARTHUR OVELMAN was in anything but an angelic humor as he half-carried, half-dragged the form of his unconscious setae away from the spot where she had received such a cru] rebuff from the man whom she believed to be Kyrle Dando, once her be- trothed, almost husband. Thick and fast, dark and ugly thoughts and hopes flashed athwart his busy brain as he hastened with his = burden back to the Arlington, ing through the deserted bar, up the stairs and into the hamber assi¢ned to his daughter, without meeting » soul to question Lim. Ali Rocky Bar was out wit- nessing the “‘ circus.” Dropping his fair, white charge upon the bed, Arthur Ovelman bastened to assure himself that she was living, for, after his own fashion, he loved his ila. With a faint moan, Marjean averted her face pushing his hand away, and, satisfie1 that she had received no serious harm, the capitalist retreated and sunk into a chair, his face resting upon his clinched fists, as he stared vacantly at the trembling figure of his daughter, a smoldering fire in his stern eyes, a savage scowl upon his brow. Until that evening he had not entertained the slightest doubt but that the body which was found beside, almost clasped in the arms of the dead wo- man who was known to have effected the escape of the man condemned for forgery, was other than that of Kyrle Dando. If his countenance was grave and his voice sub- dued when he alluded to the unfortunate affair, his heart was singing a jubilee. A dangerous obstruc- tion had been removed from his path forever—so be told himself. For weeks and months his daughter hovered on the confines of death, and from her wild ravings then he knew that she had been to call on the condemned, and that the truth had been told her, but he little cared for that. The proof had vanished, and though - Marjean might for a time believe the wild assertion time would reconcile her and him—then for his pet a te with no obstacle in the way. The scowl grew deeper as he recalled that inter- view, the first which had occurred between himself and Ma ean, aftershe was pronounced convalescent by her physicians. The storming was cll on his side. Icy cold the girl met and defeated hi.>. She bade him abandon all thoughts of marrying her to the man of his choi unless he wished her to abandon him forever an roclaim the dark secret to the whole world. He ughed at her threats in the face of the declaration of the convicted forger, but all the same he was afraid to push her to extremities, and felt a certain sense of relief when the news was flashed all over cs) 3 _ the great city of the finding of his wished-for son-in- law dead in his bg Bi gor he From that day, though living on terms of outward cordiality, the father and child were little better than strangers to each other, and the question of marriage was never alluded to between them, Ar- thur Ovelman had not the slightest doubt as to the : - death of Kyrie Dando, and he never knew but that aan held the same belief. y should she think otherwise? Scores of his once intimate friends had examined - the mangled remains, and positively identified them as those of the fleeing convict. If not his, surely ~ gome one would have claimed them, or there would mee oe Nor’ West Nick, the Border Detective. eee Oe Oe rt —— now, and with an inarticulate cry she sunk in a swoon from her chair. | en ber senses returned she was at home, and her lips were tightly locked when Arthur Ovelman | closely questioned her as to the cause of her sudden indie position, Not a word would she utter, fearing lest she be- tray her secret, and set him on the track of the man | — he had once hunted to the very portals of eath, From that hour she had but one object in life—to find Kyrle Dando, and convince him that she had ever been true to her love; that she, too, had been _ made the victim of a heartless forgery. But fate seemed against her. The owner of that accusing face had vanished, whether it belonged to Kyrle Dando or a stranger— a chance resemblance. She feared to enlist the services of a detective lest he should perform his duty too well, and finding the man, bring him to the bar to answer for his won- derful escape—and so the weary years rolled on. Of all this Arthur Ovelman knew nothing, had not the faintest suspicion, and itis only shadowed forth here to explain much of what. has already been placed before the reader. As the capitalist sat there, moodily thinking, he remembered that his curiosity had been awakened by the words used by Dan Brown in speaking of St. Clair Guthrie. He saw that the Denver detective was watching him closely after briefly introducing him to the gambler, and this fact perhaps led him to serutinize the sport more closely than would otherwise have been the case. He was conscious of a vagne ws of wonder as to whether, in the days gone by, they had not met, for there was something in the face of St. Clair Guthrie that seemed familiar, but the longer he looked the fainter grew the re- semblance, and giving | the attempt, he turned to the gaming table with all the old relish. He could see now the resemblance between the two men, though he had not recognized Nor’ West Nick as Kyrle ando until that strange appearance of Marjean upon the scene, Still blacker grew the scowl, and unconsciously to himself, his thoughts found audible utterance. ‘This time I'll make sure work. I'll kill the dog wit my own handif he lives through this night!”’ 3 I swear to bring you to the gallows if you dare to harm one hair of his head!” cried Marjean, suddenly rising to a sitting posture upon the bed, her dark eyes all aglow. Arthur Ovelman stared at her in amazement for a moment, but then a grim smile curled his lips. **So! you have concluded to come to? Iam glad of it. Iam anxious for a little talk with you, my “You have said enough—too much—” ** All the same, I mean to say still more,” was his rude interruption. “A pretty spectacle you have been making of yourself this evening, haven’t you?”’ “Who made it necessary ?"’ sharply demanded the woman, undaunted by his rage. ‘* You—by your cunning trickery, by your crime—for you know, as I know, that Kyrie Dando was the innocent victim of your crime—that you committed that reputed for- ery, and then deliberately perjured yourself, in or- er to ruin him forever.” ‘*T know that your brain is cracked on that sub- ject, and though I would hate to bring the taint upon our name, if you keep on in that vein I shall be compelled, in self-defense, to place you where that delusion may be robbed cf its sting, if not quite cured in time,’’ slowly uttered Ovelman, “A fitting climax!” laughed Marjean, her eyes flashing. ; ‘*At any rate, it is one which will assuredly come to pass unless you show signs of improvement, and that very shortly. If not crazy, you are worse. That man is not re Dando—”’ “You recognized him yourself—” ‘*Deceived by your folly, I at first thought I did, but I know better now. He denied you flatly enough.” ‘* Because he thought me false to him, in his hour of need. He believed that I wrote the note which you sent him—” “There was no note!” sharply interposed Ovel- man, “That was ony the forlorn hope which he concocted with the aid of his lawyer, but which he was afraid to trust to, when he saw what skillful experts in handwriting we had to sift his story. That was decided at the trial.” “There was a note, purporting to be written by me, signed with my name. I never wrote it. God forgive me if I wrong you in the belief, but I more than suspect that it was your work! You gave him no chance to see me and learn the truth, for you hurried me off to Washington, on the very morning the check was sent him—”’ ‘*Called by a telegram which would admit of no delay.” ‘*So yousaid. That, too, wasa forgery, no doubt,”’ was the icy cold retort. ‘‘Kyrle told me all, that terrible day when I visited him in prison, He be- lieved that note written by me, even as it was signed with my name, and a close imitation of my handwriting in the body of the note. When I was forced upon the witness stand, I told what I believed to be the truth, though every word 1 uttered cut me to the very heart. e believed that I was deliber- ately perjuring myself, glad of the chance to free myself from one who was now a beggar. He told me as much in plain words, and refusing to listen to my defense, he poured curses upon my head until I fell to the stone floor of his cell, senseless!” “Yet you still cling to the foolish idea of his inno- cence—you are still infatuated with the convicted er! 1008, Ay! because I know that he is innocent!’ was the impetuous reply. “And the time will come when he will believe in my innocence, too—when all will be made clear between us, and the past forgot- n ee ee — — —- ~- --— = a _ - Z attempt to see this fellow again, until we have left Rocky Bar—that you will refuse to speak to him, should he try to force himself upon your acquaint- ance, or I'll lock you up as one might a perverse child who don’t know what is best for its welfare!”’ a lifted her head with a return of her old spirit. “J will not promise, IfIdid, it would only be to —— break it. Iwill never leave this place until Kyrle - —— goes. I will seek him until all is made clear—” “Take care!” and Arthur Ovelman rose from his chair, his features convulsed with fury, a wicked light in his eyes. ‘If youare wise, you'll not crowd me too hard!”’ As though fearful of trusting himself further, he left the room, locking the door behind him and re- moving the key. With open door he sat in his room opposite, in the dark, ber oe get broodin ant ge And from thence he saw Dan Brown and Nor est Nick enter the chamber belonging to the Denver detective. A silent but none the less bitter curse broke from his heart as he saw that the man whom he had hunted almost to death, had once more broken through the toils, and as he heard the key turned in the lock, he stole forward in the darkness, and kneeling there with his ear to the key-hole, he heard the long story told by Nor’ West Nick. Many aswift change swept over his pale face as he listened, but had there been less of darkness, it ht have been seen that he, as well as Dan Brown, lieved that Nor’ West Nick had related his own experience, instead of that of his brother, as he claimed. Little sleep Arthur Ovelman obtained that night, yet he was afoot early in the morning, With his own hands he carried Marjean her breakfast, but not a word passed between them, and when he went away, the key was once more turned in the lock. As is the casein all purely mining towns, Roc Bar was ever the most lively on Sundays, and thoug not many of “‘the boys” had sought their couches on the night just , preferring to talk over the strange and exciting scenes they had witnessed, Arthur Ovelman found the main street well crowded when he left the Arlington, to carry out the black plot his busy brain had elaborated during those dark, silent hours. He was not long in seeing that there was a w- ing feeling against Nor’ West Nick, thanks mainly to the talk of several cowboys, who seemed to feel in duty bound to stand up for their own class, even though death had canceled all. The evil light deepened in his eyes as he saw how favorably matters were working for his scheme, and he struck while the iron was hot. Though gold was his god, he could be lavish when his interests demanded an open hand, and enterin one of the saloons before which the largest crow was gathered, he held a brief and whispered con- versation with the barkeeper, who was also the owner of the establishment. A handful of gold was exchanged, and then a surprise was sprung upon the crowd. ‘‘ Gents!” cried the fellow, emerging from his sa- loon, with a keg of whisky in his arms. ‘*’Tention here! Free drinks fer that’s thirsty! Roll up an’ take your p’izen!”’ In amazement the crowd stared at him. Withthe reputation of one who could pinch a quarter until the claws of the eagle on one side scratched the face of the goddess of liberty on the other, such gener- osity was astounding. ***Tain’t ‘cause the mice is got intoit, fer Shang ’d skim them out an’ save the hides to patch his pierre one of the most audacious cried, with a ugh. ‘Jest as good licker as you ever tucked under our belt. at somebody else’s treat!"’ snap the arkeeper, flushing hotly. “I said cents, didn’t I? That lets you out, Short and Dirty! Fer the rest— *tain’t my treat. Thar’s a high-toned gent as wants to make a little speech, an’ to keep you from gittin’ too dry, he trots out this p’izen. Take it or leave it, jest as Sp durn please, I've got the ducats fer it, an’ that’s as fur as my interests goes.” Knocking in the head of the keg, and hanging on the edge a small tin cup, he beat a retreat, none too soon to avoid the rush of the crowd, laughing, cheering and calling to their more distant comrades to come and make hay while the sun shone, While they were thus occupied, Arthur Ovelman helped the saloon-keeper place a box just outside the door, and as the quickly emptied keg was tossed high into the air, he cried: Np Gentlemen, a few words with you, if you 4 Instantly the tumult was checked, and all eyes turned with interest upon the speaker, A few of those present recognized him, and swiftly passed the information to their fellows, feeling sure that the proposed speech would treat of Nor’ West Nick, the man whose name was on every tongue. “T will not detain you long,” added Ovelman, speaking rapidly, but with distinctness, ‘“‘ The sub- oe is a peculiarly painful one to me, but a sense of justice compels me to make some explanation of the very painful scene which land mine took part in last evening. “That unfortunate lady is my only child. Once she was the joy and pride of my household, but now —she is but little better than a maniac! And she was made thus by the devilish influence of that blot on humanity—the three-fold murderer of last nists —the scoundrel who calls himself Nor’ West Nick!’ As thought overcome with the intensity of his feel- ings, the voice of the speaker died away into a oy ao and his white-crowned head drooped upon reas A mutter of sympathy came from the half-drunk- en crowd, which was rapidly deepening to an omi- nous roar, when Arthur Ovelman suddenly recovered his composnre, and with uplifted hand checked their wing rage. “Hear me through, gentlemen, before you decide have been inquiries made concerning some missing | “ “ You forget what he told you about his charming Bry A . fe and his three little ones !’’ sneered Ovelman. for or against me. Iam only a stranger here, and | x Gh “ig first Marjean did believe this, but then there wie was a bitter blow, and the poor woman drooped | for all you know, may be ee Spon your feelings ae came a change. before it as the tender plant wilts beneath the glare | With a view to my own ends. me finish, then aa One night, ac the opera, she saw a face which she | of the sun after a frosty night. Without one pang | imspect my proofs, all of you, or, tosave time, by a “ire could never forget—the face of Kyrle Dando, pale | of pity, Arthur Ovelman pressed his advantage, as commnittee selected by yourselves, le a TS Ee ee wissldon did tak eve: | toaster nod tresten eo on tay owners Satal when she en a “EK ho nonsense. ™m p by bis terrible curses. She seemed to hear them wai aot leave this building—that you will make no | could to make him rich and respected. He won the + AE r 5 Baise | ecoim c IJOOKS- COM ss