Beadle's Dime Library No. 386 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

30 Hawk Heron, the. Falcon Detective. whole party proceeding to the house which , Kotzka had hired in the vicinity, and this was done at once, Olga had at last been left with but one guard, in the person of a resolute and rather stupid female revolutionist, who was, however, ob- sequiously submissive to the superior authority of Clarisse. | The sorely-tried young girl was accordingly ex 1abled to enjoy the society of her rescuers | without restraint. The most ecstatic joy manifested by either of the new-comers at meeting her, without even ex- eaptng that of Ralph Seagrave, was naturally exhibited by her old music teacher, Mynheer Schmidt, who had until that moment deemed her dead and buried in the same grave that had closed over her hapless mother’s breast. In truth, the good old German seemed well- nigh beside himself with delight. e clasped her in his arms again and again. He laughed and wept by turns. He repeatedly demanded the story of her restoration to life, and as often interrupted the recital with the homely expressions of fatherly endearment he had been wont to lavish on her as a child. He raved, chatted, sung laughed and danced his joy, until finally ‘larisse only succeeded in moderating his transports by sending out for an unlimited supply of lager beer, with which he was diligently plied until in a somewhat less ohstreperous mood. But the lovely Olga had not been averse to her old mentor’s raptures, though it was only when they had in a measure subsided that she found her society princi Seagrave, who lost no time in making himself as agreeable as might be. Then the whilom mysterious prisoner of Mel- ton place, the long sufferer of Revolutionist re- sentment, or of Ivan Kotzka’s persecution, the poor old imbecile Baron von Tauchnitz, though of those present only Clarisse and Hawk knew him by that title for the time being, was brought out of his re‘irement, and made one of the cheer- ful gathering. To be sure, he seemed but dimly conscious of his surroundings, beyond a vague and perhaps pleasurable sense of expansive kindliness, sym- thy and sociability, to which for many years he had been a stranger. But occasional glimpses were afforded of smoldering intelligence and memory that might ee but time and gentle treatment to fan into pristine wer and warmth, and his companions made the most of their opportunities to cheer and brighten that | wronged, world-worn and much-bruised human heart. Nixey did not put in a reappearance till almost nightfall, but then it was with such en- couraging news as to more than make up for his tardiness, “The big *’un has got his hands full,” was his graphic way of putting it. “ ae you shadowed Kotzka, my lad?” asked Hawk. ‘* Like his own double, boss, many of ’em as he’s had,” was the reply, “‘from the time he bolted into the Russian nabob’s roost, in answer to the telegram, to where I last left him.” ** Where was that?” ‘In the back room of an east-side beer-mill, boss, not far from the old brewery in the classic precincts of the Short Tail’s old-time stampin’ ground.” oe Oho }"? “Yes, an’ surrounded by a whoopin’ big gang of foreign throne-smashers, all hoorayin’ fit to split by the barrel. primed for a lively night, boss, making things jump.” Hawk arose. They were lily monopolized by Ralph | ' The harangue had been an unequivocal suc- cess. Still glowing with his oratorical effort, mag- nificently dressed as was his wont, the grand | double-dyed arch-conspirator was just bowing his powerful and colossal personality off the latform amid a tumult of plaudits that must ave been as music to his ears. At this instant a heavily-bearded, athletic young man, in an artisan’s working dress, sprung upon the platform, waving some papers which he held in his hand. As no one seemed to recognize him, the unex- ected boldness of this proceeding at once chal- | lenged and obtained renewed attention amid a breathless silence. The new orator was swift to avail himself of the opportunity. he first ringing sentence he gave utterance to thrilled through the assemblage like an elec- | trie shock. ‘That man who has just addressed you, Count Ivan Kotzka,” he cried, ‘‘is a foul and perfidious traitor, who has this day sold you out | to the Czar’s representative in this city, and I am prepared to prove what I charge, by docu- mentary and other evidence, right here on the spot!’ | The effect of these words was indescribable. A tremendous tumult was the result. Kotzka, thunder-struck, had started back, turned pale, but instantly recovered him- self. ‘“‘The charge is false!—ridiculous as it is false!” he thundered. ‘‘Ha, ha, ha! Who is this unknown scoundrel that dares to make it? I recognize him, if youdo not. Behold him in the person of Hawk Heron, the pseudo detec- tive, whom [ have so often hela up to your scorn and resentment as a hired Russian spy ” Hawk, for it was indeed he, tore off the false beard from his face, and stood self-confessed! ** Comrades, I am no spy, as you shall present- ly acknowledge,” he cried, in his clear incisive tones. ‘' Let me read to you one of the docu- ments, in Kotzka’s familiar handwriting, that I hold in my hand, and if you are not satisfied of his treason, his perfidy—” But here his voice was drowned in a storm of angry dissent. The vast majority were still Kotzka’s credulous and purblind dupes. Threat- ening demonstrations against the stranger were not wanting. Hawk strove again and again to make him- | self heard, but in vain. Kotzka made ec significant gesture. | A hundred wild figures were already on their feet, some even rushing toward the platform. Here and there a deadly weapon saw the light. The roar was deafening, but terrible expres- sions, such as ** Kill him!” ** Tear him to pieces!” ** Pulverize him!” ‘‘ Cut out his heart!” ** Down ' with the spy!” “‘Trample him to death!” here and there made themselves distinguishable above it, as individual detonations above the war of | heaven’s artillery in the climax of a great _ thunder-storm. _ It looked very much as if our hero was doomed. | But a sudden diversion was caused by a tall, graceful and superbly-attired figure struggling | out of the seething mass, like a mist-sprite out of the fury of a cataract, and gliding somehow to a Cora mena Dog on on the rostrum like a rain- bow on the tempest’s brow. It was Clarisse! Needless to say that; but, with a familiar and controlling influence over those wild spirits that ' for which Kotzka was settin’ up the lush | was superior to even Kotzka’s, she swept out her Oh, they seemed to be getting | arm with an Se gesture; her eyes flashed, her lips parted, her glorious bosom rose and fell; and the maddened human sea relapsed into re- spectful and attentive calm as at the stroke of ‘*Come, my friends,” said he, gravely, ‘“ we | an enchanter’s wand. must be preparing for the crowning business at hand, This is the beginning of the end.” CHAPTER XXXIV. RETRIBUTION. THE Revolutionists were once more in secret session. ‘* Brethren,” she cried, ‘‘ do you believe in my truth, in my fidelity?” A roar of assent was her answer, and Kotzka’s quivering lips wore a triumphant smile, ““Then I swear to you that the charges made by Hawk Heron against Count Kotzka are true!” The current changed asif by magic. It was The great underground hall of the old brewery | Kotzka’s turn to start back appalled at the furi- building was brilliantly illuminated and densel thronged as upon the occasion of the reader's former glimpse into the interior. The banners and mottoes upon the walls seem- ed even redder, wilder, more flamboyant and more incendiary than before. Fanatical enthusiasts of both sexes, all ages, | ous storm directed against him. Clarisse still managed to make herself heard. ‘**T have seen the proofs of his treachery in his own handwriting!” she cried. ‘They are un- mistakable. Not only has Kotzka bargained for your betrayal, in consideration for the Czar’s pardon and the Czar’s gold, but his other many nationalities, every grade and condition | offenses against our, Order are equally foul! in life, and all phases of ee eee Socialists, Communists, Anarchists, Disruption- ists, Nihilists—disturbing, or would-be disturb- ing forces from all quarters of Europe, as earn- est and sincere as they were impracti and dangerous—filled the hall with their closely- my eager-faced, serried and gesticulating ran A vast breeze of applause was ruffling the sea of faces turned toward the stage. He has subserved our interests to his private ends. The Baron von Tauchnitz, so long your life-captive under Kotzka’s charge, is innocent, and he has always known it! I also brand him as the ruthless destroyer, in his own mercenary behalf, of that poor prisoner’s wife, the Baroness von Tauchnitz, and the abductor of her daughter Olga! He is the so-called widow Ashcombe’s midnight murderer! The proofs against him are overwhelming and indisputable! Let him deny Count Ivan Kotzka, the controlling head of | it, if he dare!” these wild-brained, emotional, heterogeneous human elements, and heretofore almost their idol, had just finished one of his characteristic harangues, in his most vivid, picturesque and melodramatic style. Ss a se She would have gone on, but she had already | loosened the whirlwind. Kotzka, backed against the platform wall, ‘knife in hand, foaming at the mouth, gnashing his teeth, was already confronting a hundred of his enraged dupes, trooping down upon him like wolves. Seagrave, Mr. Schmidt and Nixey, tegether with Rudolph and others who had been Jet into the secret beforehand, were rushing to Hawk’s support, as the latter was now, baving signaled the police in waiting, chicfly intent upon pre- ig the baited monster tor the talons of the aw. Olga, also present under Clarisse’s protection had reached the latter’s side, frightened anid trembling. It was as Hawk had feared, now that the ex- posure had come, the main difficulty was in sav- ing Kotzka from being torn to pieces. Again the clarion voice of Clarisse rung out above the din with terrible distinctness. ** He is the widow Ashcombe’s murderer!” ske iterated. ‘‘ Let him ceny it, if he-dare!” “Deny it? I deny nothing!” yelled the cor- nered giant, now fighting for his life—snarling, lashing out and struggling tooth and nail, likea monarch of the jungle in the hunters’ toils, ‘*Kotzka denies nothing! It is all true, and more! He dies, as he has lived, unpitying and unpitied! Dupes, fools, miscreants, scum of the earth—” But neither his secret armor nor his super- human cunning, neither bis giant strength nor his magnificent covrage, availed him now. In another instant, the thirsters for bis life swept over his prestrate and trampled body. It was only by the efforts of a platoon of police, who at that mcment swept into the hall in obedience to Hawk Hercn’s signal, that he was finally rescued from the mob, bruised, bleeding disfigured and half-stripped of his clothing, an carried off to prison, The monster had been caged at last. CHAPTER XXXV. ‘ALU’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.” LATE on the afternoon of the following day there was a joyous gathering in the isolated Brooklyn house which had recently become the temporary domicile of Olga, Clarisse and the Baron von Tauchnitz. The secret of relationship had been made known to both Olga and the old baron. Yes, to even the baron himself, who was sit- ting 1n an easy-chair before the roaring fire, with the soft light of a new happiness and a slowly but surely awakening intelligence stealing over his countenance as he held his new-found daugh- ter’s hand in his. A tender light of happiness was in Olga’s sweet eyes, though subdued by the fresh recol- lection of her recent terrible bereavement. Ralph Seagrave, quietly contented, was also at her side, and from the hopeful look on his face it was evident that he meant to aspire to the hand of Olga von Tauchnitz with as much encouragement as he had striven for the heart of Olga Ashcombe, when only the beautiful but obscure singer of the Thalia Theater. Clarisse and Mr, Schmidt were in earnest con- versation over some formidable-looking docu- ments, which bad been sent to the house a short time before, with the compliments of Count Rudovoski, the Russian Consul. These papers were the certified indentification of Olga’s father as the real Baron von Tauch- nitz, setting forth his pardon for past political offenses by the Czar, together with the details of the princely estates in southwestern Russia and elsewhere which had long been awaiting his claim. Hawk and Nixey alone, of the group who have chiefly figured in our pages, were absent. The former, however, presently arrived, and Clarisse hastily arose to greet him with a charm- ing blush in her beautiful face. But the detective was serious, as well as cor- dial, and there was a gravity in his manner as he responded to her joyful welcome. ‘What is it?’ said she, while the others also looked up expectantly. ‘‘Have you fresh tid- ings for us?” “Tidings of both joy and sorrow,” said Hawk, kissing her. ‘* But let the joy come first. It is another revelation, Clarisse.” “Yet another?’ ‘*'Yes; you have told me that you have no re- collection of your mother?” ee True ” * ‘You were taken away from her at an early age by your father, whom you only remember as Monsieur Letours, the sometime companion of Kotzka, the hokey caterteas SUS nies agent, who, you were taught to believe, finally met an exile’s death amid the wastes of Siberia, after which you became the protegee of the Order, the daughter of the Cause for which he had—disap- ‘“‘For which he laid down his life, you mean. All this is true, but—” ‘‘Strange,” interrupted her lover, half-mus- ingly. ‘‘Strange that your sire could have deemed it advisable to lead that mysterious double-life—now with his devoted wife and _ younger child in his ancestral home—then wan- dering aimlessly, or in the interests of a secret | propaganda, and with his other, his eldest child, ignorant of his real name, as the sole companion of his perils!” . Eomicbooks