Beadle's Dime Library No. 387 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

> ee er ee ee ee eee ; 6 name will be connected with it. Let me have my way. I swear to see him well cared for, and—” ‘* Make me perjure myself?” with a trembling little laugh that had in it butscant mirth. ‘‘ For my sake, Rex!” Her hand rested on his shoulder, her pale face was upturned, her dark eyes gazing appealingly into his. He saw her quivering lips, and he could no longer resist. ‘Since you will, Precious, so be it. harm come to you for your reward! door—I will carry the fellow in.” . This was quickly done, and Precious Wingfold led the way up-stairs and to her own chamber. Without a word Rex Stuart followed. her, plac- ing the deformed shape on her snowy bed, a faint rroan alone telling her that life lingered in his Reipioes burden. be A low, startled cry came from the doorway, and, turning, they saw the white face and wide open eyes of Nettie, Precious’s maid. ‘‘The doctor is still here, Nettie?’ hurriedly asked her mistress. ‘* Bid him come here at once, but be careful not to alarm father, There has been an unfortunate accident. Hasten!” Rex Stuart frowned a little as he watched the trim little maid glide away, and he muttered half to himself: “‘She’s always hard by, that cat-like little piece! It wouldn’t take a great stretch of im- agination to paint her as a professional spy!” ‘‘ Nettie? my-paragon?” and Precious broke into a nervous fh the tones of which told how strongly her nerves had been tasked that evening. ‘I would almost as soon suspect my- self of eavesdropping, Rex!” ““T may be wrong. l'm hardly accountable for what I do or say of late,” he half-smiled, turning ebruptly away and bending over the feebly moaning hunchback on the bed. He saw. that the unfortunate fellow bore more than one gaping wound, but before he could satis- fy himself as to their depth, a brisk step echoed in the passage, and he turned to encounter Doctor - Shipley, a well-known character in the history of Denver. “ An accident? Who is it? When? Where? How? My soul! he has got it—bad—mighty bad! Just so!” briskly rattled off the fat little doctor, pouncing upon the patient with true pro- fessional ardor. ‘‘My father? He is no worse, I trust, doctor?” “No worse. Just the same. Asked for you, though. Told him you were asleep, worn out from watching over him. White lie. Have to tell ’em sometimes. Good for our patients— purely business, you know!” : **T will go to him at once, and—” “Right, No place for a girl here. Send me nurse, will you? Old woman, Won't be shock- ed at stripping a — ahem! Will you be sokind, my dear? Send—eh?” and he stared over the tops of his glasses at Rex Stuart. ‘I didn’t see you, lad. Had to—eh? You've got it, too!” Nothing could escape his twinkling eyes long, and with brisk eagerness he was reaching out to part the severed and bloodmarked clothes of the young may, when Rex caught his hand, pressing it warmly. ** Do your best for him, doctor. it all in a moment.” “Voice strong, eye clear, wits bright—noth- May no Open the I will explain i ing serious there /” muttered the doctor, wheel- i ing about and again pouncing on the moaning 4 hunchback. ‘All right. Talk away. I’m ae deaf as anadder. Young myself, once, though a’ you mightn’t think it. Bit of a heart-smasher, [* too! k Mrs. 8S. if you can’t swallow my say so—ask her—she knows!” et Neither of the young folk paid any attention Be to this rumbling fusilade. A glance from those o dark eyes drew Rex Stuart to the door, and i. Precious hurriedly whispered in his ear: hk _ Do not go away until I have seen you again, ye » please.” ae He smiled assent. Little danger of that. He ry was resolved to come to a more definite un- * derstanding before leaving the house. Matters i could not go on as they had for the last few Ts d»ys. All doubts must be dispelled, all clouds / cleared away. ; A Sy Leaving him, Precious Wingfold hastened to », the chamber on the same floor which was occu- + pied by her father. She found him still and He 7 seemingly sleeping, a fat old woman nodding by ‘ ‘ his bedside. In low, guarded tones, she delivered the mes- sage from the doctor, and the nurse waddled away to play her part. ; Left alone with her father, Precious bent over him, gazing tearfully into his pale, worn face. A low moan escaped his pale lips, and bending anes she dropped a kiss upon his feverish row. Light as was the caress, it caused his eyes to open—eyes that seemed full to overflowing with utter misery and wretchedness. Always thin a and gaunt and old looking, Maurice Wingfold ; had aged terribly during those last few days. ue Not even Rex Stuart could have doubted his ill- a ness. his troubled spirit, had he seen him then. “hy ‘Poor child! it is hard—harder even for you . than for me!” he muttered hoarsely, averting his eves, with a low groan. 4 ‘‘ There is no hope, father?’ she faltered, faint- 4.4¢ " s ne re eas Se r Ld : yes ee a= _ Dark ’Durg, the Ishmael of the Hills. Ms ly, though she knew but too well what his an- swer must be. ‘None, Precious. That devil is merciless. He has plotted and schemed for years, to suc- ceed at fast!” | **Tf you were only well and strong again; if you could only visit your friends to—” A short, rasping laugh checked her speech. ‘* Friends? the under dog in a fight has no friends, Precious! The very ones he felt surest of, while prosperity was his, are the ones to steal the first kick at him when he falls in the mire! No, child, It is vain to fight against fate. My time has come. But Ill cheat that smirking, grinning devil yet! There’s one way to foil him—and to end it all!” ‘* Father, if you love me!” pleaded Precious, her trembling fingers closing upon his thin hand. She knew to what he alluded. More than once during those dark days he had hinted at taking his own life rather than suffer his half- brother to wholly triumph over him. Whether or no he fully meant all he threatened, Precious believed he would carry out his threats. ‘*If I love you, child?” and a sudden fire flashed into his sunken eyes as they turned to- ward her pale face. ‘‘If I did not love you so dearly, it would be easy enough to get out of this wretched scrape. I would only have to or- der your marriage with that demon’s cub.” ‘Tf the worst comes, you will not have to or- der me, father,” was the low, tremulous reply. ‘*To save your life, I could even consent to— Oh! father, if that lost treasure would only come to light!” *1t will—it must!” and he half-started up in bed, his eyes all aglow, his thin face contort- ed, hectic spots coming into his cheeks, “I have sworn to find it before I die!” Gently Precious pressed him back again, and he yielded without a struggle. That one fierce outburst apparently exhausted his feeble pow- ers, for he almost immediately sunk into a heavy stupor. Precious was not frightened by this. She had grown accustomed to it, and Doctor Ship- ley assured her that it was beneficial, rather than otherwise. ‘ She sat down by the bedside, thinking, pon- ering. That lost cache! That terribly elusive ‘Gold Phantom!’ Thus had she dubbed it, one day, when all was bright and peaceful—. when not even the faintest shadow of coming trouble was visible. It was a page of Maurice Wingfold’s past with which even she, his only child, was but imperfectly acquainted. She knew that he had, long years ago, when Denver was but a strag- gling collection of tents and shanties instead of the large and beautiful ony it had since become, after some fashion lost a large amount of gold. Just how, he never explained to her, and she early in life learned not to question him after being once rebuked. It was to gain funds by means of which he could prosecute his search for this mysterious treasure, this ‘‘ golden phantom,” that Maurice Wingfold worked so fiercely, so daringly. And it was in quest of the Gold Phantom that he so often vanished from Denver, without word or hint of where he was bound or when he might return. Yor herself, Precious had long since given over all hopes of ever having the mystery solved or of seeing aught of that marvelous gold. But now—if it would only come to light! If the se- cret cache might be discovered in time to pay off those merciless blo-dhounds! If— Even in her utter ‘wretchedness, Precious Wingfoid smiled faintly at this wild, improba- ble hope. If her father had spent years in the vain search, knowing more about the matter, as he must, than any other man could hope to learn, how was Rex Stuart to succeed? It was worse than folly to for a moment dream of such a miracle! And yet—she could not help dreaming. It seemed the only hope of escaping from the toils cunning, foxy Damon Winefold had spun about them, Only a miracle could raise the large sum of money which he demanded. Or which some one else demanded, rather, since Damon Wing- fold declared that the matter had passed entire- ly out of his hands, save that he knew to whom the money might be paid, She loved Rex Stuart so wholly, so ardently! It would he worse than death to give him up! And Earl Wingfold—she hated him now, to the full as sincerely as she had despised him shortly before. A flashy bully, gambler, drunkard! To marry bim—ugh!” Just then th» fat nurse came panting. puffing into the sick-chamber, and as she sunk into a chair, Precious arose, asking: ; ‘¢The wounded ‘man, nurse; he is not very seriously injured?” Nurse shook her head until her triple chin wagged again, her husky voice making re- y: ‘“Tain’t fer me to say, mum, bein’ onely a pore, witless nuss. You'd better ax the doctor, mum, though I will say that ef the pore, crook- ed, humly critter ever lives to see another day it will be a mericle sech as 1 never hearn tell of . ; ( ' . : Ps tn i 7 ry 7 ihe fh a ri? 1?) @ « ye? sy, se aT eft CO! in all my born days an’ perfessional igsperience, mum, so it will, mum!” Precious bent over her father, then noiselessly drew back, saying in a guarded whisper: ‘* I think father is asleep, nurse. If he should rouse ti and wish for me, please step to the dcor and call. You will not forget?” ‘** Bein’ ondly a pore, witless nuss, mum, v hy I wouldn’t like to—” Precious waited not to hear the end, for past experience told her that the nurse, though so short-winded, could rumble on and on for a dreadful length of time, if permitted, and she was too eager to see Rex Stuart again to pause for that mountain of flesh to run down. Apparently, her lover was to the full as eager, since she found him waiting for her without the door of the chamber in which Humpy Dick had been placed. And there was such a bright, glad glow in his blue eyes as he came forward and grasped both her hands! Surely it was more than pleasure at again meeting with her? ‘‘The poor man? He willrecover? He is not so badly hurt?’ she faltered, though even as she spoke she was trying to read aright the cause of that joyous, look. Rex grew grave and his voice was sober as he made reply: ‘* He is badly wounded, and you must be pre- yared to hear the worst, my dear. If he lives, it will be little short of a miracle, the doctor says. In short—the poor fellow is mortally wounded, he fears.” Her eyes drooped, and as they fell upon his side, where the light of the hall Jamp fell, she saw the severed cloth, stained dark around the edges, A gasping cry escaped her lips, and she staggered back, only to feel that strong arm wind about her, those warm lips pressed to hers, while the voice of her lover lightly whispered in her ear: ‘ ‘*'You silly dear, it is nothing—a mere scratch. The doctor has examined it, and though he laughingly declared that a kitten could have scratched deeper without etal pare her claws, he has plastered it up. I will not know it is there in the morning, unless I look close.” Precious looked keenly into his eyes, but there were no signs of evasion there. Instead—what was iti? ‘““A ray of hope, Precious!” laughed Rex, drawing back sufficiently to slip one han’ into his bosom and withdraw a dingy, soiled and deeply creased paper. ‘See! a clew to a buried treasure. <A guide to—The Gold Phentcm— who knows? Stranger things have happened.” Precious took the paper, gazing bewilderedly at the maze of lines and dots with which one side was covered. On the other was a name: ‘STERLING COIN.” CHAPTER IV. A CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK, ‘¢ Ts working, my boy! The hook’s deep in his jaw, and the more he fights against the strain the quicker and surer the end will come!” ‘¢ Tf something don’t break !” The first speaker chuckled grimly, rubbing his bony har ds together until the rasping of the skin. was distinctly audible. © His little gray eyes sparkled and strapped, his thin lips curled away until his uneven, yellowish teeth were laid bare. Not a pleasant smile, hardly an agreeable pic- ture did ‘ Foxy” Damon Wingfold then pre- sent. But Earl Wingfold joined in the smile, fully satisfied that all was going aright, for he knew that his father was far too wary to jump at con- clusions or to laugh before his game was sub- stantially won. It was on the same evening that Humpy Dick fell among thieves, and at about the same hour though the office in which Damon Wingfold and his hopeful son were sitting on opposite sides of a round table, supplied with liquor and cigars, was in an altogether different part of the city. Damon Wingfold, speculator, lawyer, broker, anything by means of which a fee or a haul might be made—‘‘from lying to higway rob- bery,” as a more blunt than courteous rival once: openly declared—was to the full as widely known in Denver, and still less liked or respected, a was his half-brother, Manrice. He was mor tricky, more slippery, more cunning and less to be trusted, even when his business honor was in~ volved. At times Maurice acted like a lunatic; at all times you might expect Damon to act like a thorough rascal. ’ It may be said, in passing, that few in Denver knew that these two men were related, though of the same name. They were known as bitter enemies, neither losing a chance to injure the other, each making no bones about denouncing the other as a graceless scoundrel, only kept out of the hangman’s noose by pure cowardice, Just as Precious Wingfold seemed far too lovely and true and pure to be a child of Man- rice, so Earl Wingfold had little in common with his father, so far as outward appearances went. Now in the very prime of early manhood, he was one to attract admiring glances wherever he went. Tall, athletic, without a suspicion of clumsiness in. form or action, he might have. stood as a model for Apollo, And his face would. mile + > » & bool noe