Beadle's Dime Library No. 366 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

The Telegraph Detective. 20 rance’s confident words, he resolved to keep | from that terrible jump down a blank, un- in retirement until he heard from his ac- | broken wall to a stone pavement below. complice. To venture forth and run the risk of meeting Arminie Royale would -be rash indeed, for knowing the woman’s fiery disposition, he was in doubt as to whether she had not already betrayed his secrets to the police. It was late in the afternoon when one of | the League, whom he had sent out to keep track of the movements of certain persons— Torrance and others of the eonfederation of crime—returned and sought a private inter- view with his leader. Revere read in his face that something of importance had occurred, and he hastened to ask: ‘“ What is it?” ‘*|Tmportant news.’ ‘““Concerning Torrance?” * Yes; he is dead.” Revere sunk back in his chair as though struck a violent blow. ‘* Dead?” he repeated. ‘* Yes; and Adams too!” The ashen lips of the outlaw leader could only grasp the words: ‘* There must be some mistake. ” ‘‘There is none. I learned the intelligence at police head-quarters.” ‘* How did it occur?” ‘In a collision with Marvin and Dorsett, the detectives.” ‘‘ Where?” ‘‘ At Paterson.” Revere started. His quick mind readily conceived that if the episode had occurred there it must have been when the men were in quest of the hidden treasure-casket. His informant was unable to give him any further particulars, and he sat moodily rest- less, haunted with dire apprehension for the future, as he realized that two of his most trusty colleagues had been removed from co- operating in his evil schemes. % ‘‘ The game is closing in on me,” he mut- tered, ‘and I am utterly in the dark as to the movements of my enemies. There is but one resource left—flight.” He summoned the driver who had met Arminie Royale in the stable of the Thorn- dyke mansion, and ordered him to proceed thither cautiously, and bring the carriage to his present place of residence, Then he as- cended to the room where Constance was a prisoner. Her confinement had made her thin and pale, but she regarded him with her ordi- nary dignity of manner as he entered the apartment. ‘‘[T wish you to prepare for a long jour- ney,” he said, sullenly; ‘‘ I am going to take you away from here.” She made no reply to his words. ‘You have refused to acknowledge me as your husband,” he went on. “ Well and good. I cancel the marriage contract, but [ am too deep in the mire to extricate m self without your help. There is no need of de- ception between us. I have come to a point where your death would bring me the wealth Icrave. I donotclaim the sacrifice. I only ask that you quietly aeopany me hence, and I promise to return you safely to your friends when I myself am free from pursuit. Do you agree?” ‘*No,” she replied, finally. ‘‘T cannot trust you. I agree to nothing in common with you; [amin your power, but beware how you seek to injure me, for my wrongs will be terribly avenged.” His troubled features told her that her words were not without effect. ‘*T am telling you the truth,” he persisted. “Within a half-hour the carriage will be ready 10 convey you hence. On the journey, utter one word to attract attention and I will kill you. 1 swear it.” She shuddered at his words, and uttered a sigh of relief as he left the apartment. He had, however, aroused her to the highest pitch of anxicty, for with the intimation of a new removal came the fear that she might be taken from the city, where, free from the influences now surrounding him, her, cruel captor would not hesitate to persecute her and trade on his possession of her with her friends. q She had viewed her surroundings from the , EN Ee Ne ae ee a oe ee tt a Across the court was the dead wall of the _adjoining building, the court probably be- longing to the house in which she was con- fined. She head given up all thought of escape by any other means than a wild spring to the ground, but as she saw aman pass below and go into the adjoining yard, carrying a bundle of roof-slates, and evidently a work- man, her eyes brightened as she went to the little table in one corner of the room, selected | a book lying there, and tore out a blank leaf, and with the tiny pencil on her chain indited a note to the police, informing them that she was a prisoner held by a villain, and request- ing them to follow the bearer to the house where she was incarcerated. Folding it, she directed it to the chief of police, and taking a gold coin from her pocket, approached the window. It was two hours later when the man started from the adjoining house to leave his work for the night. She could see by his loose blouse and general appearance that he was a workingman, and as she perceived no one in the vicinity she opened one side of the shutter and dropped the coin. It fell rattling at his feet. He stooped, picked it up and glanced up in surprise. He did not misunderstand the uplifted fin- ger placed warningly on her lips, but as the fluttering letter fell into his outstretched hands, nodded intelligently as though he understood what was required, and passed out of sight, leaving Constance a prey to the keenest emotions of suspense and hopeful- ness. ‘Tf he only understands it and takes it to the chief of police!” she murmured. Alas for her hopes! The money so easily earned was a fateful boon to the laborer. He repaired to the first saloon he came to, ard, having ascertained the direction of the letter, started for the City Hall; but the money in his pocket was too great a temptation to his bibulous desires. From one groggery to an- other he wandered, and it was late in the night when he staggered into police head- quarters with just sense enough to deliver the letter, A lieutenant in charge read the note and questioned the man. The latter gave inco- herent replies, but the circumstances of the case justified the officer in believing that some deep mystery lay beneath the letter, and securing the aid of some fellow-officers, he asked the messenger: “*Can you lead up to the place where you received this letter?” The other nodded asgentingly. ‘Then do so;”’ and thus it was that per- sonal and official efforts were,- that night, to deal the last fell blow to the surviving mem- bers of the Dynamite League. CHAPTER XXIX. THE HAND OF FIRE, Ir was indeed the mismated husband and wife seen through the glass door in the house they had been so singularly led to—that the two detectives, Marvin and Dorsett, saw. All unconscious of the new plots forming about his head, having his utter destruction in view, Adrian Revere was far more bold with the woman he had so basely wronged than if he had been aware of the true state of affairs, The first alarm at her unexpected appear- ance having passed, he only marveled how she had found him out. One glance at her dark, vengeful face told him that she had come to overwhelm him with reproaches, and it augured well for her being alone that she referred in her first words to the fact that she had been keen enough to secure the co-operation of ‘his driver in bringing her hither, ‘““T am here, Adrian Revere,” she said, ‘‘despite your endeavors to hide from me.” ‘‘I see you are,” replied the man, with a sullen scowl. ‘‘ What do you want?” ‘* You will know in time. First, where is Constance Thorndyke?” ‘‘ You question me as if you were mistress of this house,” retorted Revere. ‘ You for- get that I am surrounded by my confed- erates, men who will not hesitate to do my windows more than ence, but she saw no , bidding at my call.” means of escape from her prison. It was only aleap to the ground, but she shrunk her eyes gleaming balefully—‘‘ not even that “I forget nothing,” replied the woman, I have my hand on a revolver, which shal! send a bullet to your traitorous heart if you dare to make a movement to carry out any such design.”’ Revere trembled at her threat. ‘* Constance Thorndyke is in the house,” he said, ‘‘ How does that benefit you?” ‘‘T donot seek that it should,” replied the woman, ‘I have ceased to think of myself except so far as | can avenge my wrongs on you. Oh, I have taken no such petty re- venge as betraying you to the police. Your crimes will find you out yet, without my co- operation.” ‘“In Heaven’s name, what have you come here for, then?’ demanded the man, goaded to desperation by her tantalizing manner. “To torture you, as you have me!” re- plied the woman. ‘‘ Adrian Revere, the hour is approaching when you will stand before the bar of justice. It is inevitable; you cannot escape it. And when you are there, my presence shall torment you; the knowl- edge shall come to you that, even at this last moment, one word from my lips could have saved you.” “You are trying to alarm me,” with an attempt at an incredulous sneer. ‘‘Am I?” her eyes flashing hatred and con- tempt upon him, ‘‘ Wait and sec! When the end has come you will know something more—the mystery of the treasure-casket.” The casket! Her words thrilledhim, His mind awoke to a new light at her vague in- sinuation. ‘“Oh, I see you believe me. Did you noi, I would prove to you that my revenge is no petty one, At one word I could bestow lib- erty, escape—the treasure-casket at your dis- posal!” Was she in earnest? Over the man’s min4 ‘ame a quick inspiration to attempt to cajole the wronged wife—to induce her to spealx more clearly. But he knew too well her deep nature to attempt it. ‘You will but doom yourself to the jail if you drag me thither,” he cried. ‘‘ Consider that before you refuse to aid me. If m position is a perilous one, and you can o}- tain the treasure, remember my old love fer you, and we may yet enjoy life in some dir- tant clime.” ‘* Your love!” cried the woman, scornful- ly. ‘‘L would rot accept that insincere pas- sion if laid at my feet. No, Adrian Revere, I have triumphed; I shall have my revenge, and—” There was the sound of hurrying footsteps along the corridor, The next moment both occupants of the apartment were startled ¢s the form of aman burst unceremoniously in- to the room. ‘‘ Fly!” he cried to Revere, his face pele, his manner apprehensive. ‘* We are lost.’ Revere started to his feet, his features as disturbed as those of the messenger. ‘‘Speak,” he cried. ‘‘ What has happen- ed?” . “The police. They are in the housef They have surrounded the place,” replied the man, rapidly. Revere, forgetting the woman, seized a re- volver from the drawer of the secretary and placed it in his bosom, ‘* Where are the carriage and horses?” he asked the man, ‘In the court.” ‘* Js there no way in which we can get the girl, Constance, to the carriage, and evade the officers?” ‘‘There may be. The rear of the house is unguarded, apparently.” ‘* Then hasten to ber room and force her to the carriage. Mass the men near the rear to cover my escape, and tell the driver to stop for nothing, once started.” ‘‘All right, sir,” and the man disappeared to obey the injunctions of his master. Revere started after him to hasten the pre- parations for flight. “ Hold!” It was Arminie Revere who spoke. He fell back as she presented the barrel of a glittering revolver at his breast. He dis- cerned his peril and her resolution, and a blank look of despair came over his face. ‘‘In Heaven's name, Arminie, let me pass,” The woman laughed derisively. ‘To fly with Constance Thorndyke and leave me unrevenged! Not yet, Adrian Re- vere!” = com (E 100 “STG om