Beadle's Dime Library No. 42 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

t The California Detective. 21 Then he noticed that her glass was still full ‘¢'You do not drink,” he said. ‘¢T have a reason,” she replied. ‘Dreamily the old man passed his hand over his fore- head. “ Now your promise,” he said. With a rapid movement she threw back the heavy vail which hid her face. A single moment the old man glared into the beautiful face ef the young girl; then he rose slowly, and with difficulty, to his feet. The drugged wine was beginning to take effect. ‘¢ What do I see?” he cried, in broken accents; ‘‘ the face of Sarah Gordon, who married Philip Van Rensselaer—but, 20, I dream-—I am sleepy.” Slowly he staggered back, beating the air, dreamily, with his outstretched hands. ‘“‘ Alice—my Alice!” he murmured, as he sunk wpom the sofa. With a last effort, he threw open the light overcoat, which ne wore buttoned over his breast. *T am sleepy,” he murmured, “‘ sleepy—Alice—” And with the word he extended himself upon the sofa, and sunk into a deep slumber, the effect of the pewerful drug contained in the wine. The quick eyes of the girl caught sight of a folded, lega looking paper in the breast-pocket of his overcoat. ‘That is what Van Rensselaer is in search of!” she cried suddenly; “* put I will foil him and preserve it.” OHAPTER XVI. A SUDDEN APPEARANCE. Coram had risen to her feet when she beheld the strange effect of the potent drug upon the old man, and when her eyes beheld the legal-looking paper projecting from the breast-pocket of his overcoat, her quick wits at once con- jectured that possibly it was what Van Rensselaer was in search of. For that he had some powerful motive for act- ing as he had in the matter she was sure. No common cause could actuate him. From the old man’s story it was evident that he was strangely interested in the Van Rensselaer family. Duped as she had been by David, and forced to carry out his designs despite herself, she saw here a chance to baffle his plans, perhaps in the end defeat them altogether. If the paper was indeed the object of which Van Renss- elaer was in quest, what a triumph it would be for her to frustrate him and preserve the perhaps precious docu- ment, With parted lips and a beating heart, Coralie stood in the center of the dingy room and looked upon the sleeping man. The thought came to her mind that Van Rensselaer might be watching her though the key-hole of the door. She was determined to secure the paper hidden in the old man’s pocket, but to baffle Van Rensselaer’s design, he must not suspect that she had taken it. Coralie thought and acted quickly. She advanced to the old man and bent over him as if to assure herself that he was really sleeping. Then, with & rapid movement, she drew the folded paper from her pocket and thrust it into her bosom. Her back being to the door, the action was con- sealed from any one who might be watching there. A smile of triumph shone in the clear eyes of the girl as her fingers closed over the paper. “Tt is mine,” she murmured. ‘“ Now, keen plotter, if this is what you are in search of, your quest will be a fruit- leas one. The tool you have chosen shall wound your hand, —E——EwE ~~ -— mstead of aidin, you in your design. He laughs best wne Jaughs last; to-night it was your turn, to-morrow it will be mine.” Then she drew her vail down over her. face again und walked straight to the door of the apartment. As she approached it, it opened and Van Rensselaer ap- peared. As she had guessed, he had been on the watch. ‘*Does he sleep?” he asked, casting an anxious glance to ward the couch where the motionless form of the old man was extended. sé Yes.” ‘* Wait for me in the carriage. I shall not be long,” he said. She simply bowed her head, but made no reply. She left the room, walked along the passage-way and descended to the street. The hack now stood before the door ‘You need not wait for the others,” Coralie said, deter- mined to put Van Rensselaer to all the inconvenience is hor pover. Then she told the hackman to drive her to the corner of Twenty-third street and Broadway; something whispered to her that it was best not to give her address to the man. Coralie entered the carriage, and the hackman, tired of waiting and anxious to get home, drove off without thinking for a moment that there was any thing wrong in so doing, The young girl laughed, in triumph, as the carriage rolled on and she felt the paper safe within her bosom After Coralie’s departure, Van Rensselaer turned to Rishop, who stood just outside the door. ‘* Keep watch at the door outside and prevent any one from disturbing me,” he said. ‘* All right,” Bishop answered. Then Van Rensselaer closed the door, and was alone with his victim. With stealthy steps he approached the old man, yet there was little need of caution, for Hartright was as incapable of motion as the gorged Indian serjent supine in its native jungles. ‘‘The drug has worked well enough,” he muttered, as he looked upon the sleeper. He proceeded at once to search his pockets, but no will rewarded his efforts. ‘“ By heaven! he has not brought it with him!” Van Rensselaer muttered,in wrath. ‘‘I shall only have my labo for my pains. Can he have intrusted it to other hands?” And his brows grew dark as he pondered over the ques tion. ‘‘ Impossible! he surely would not trust so precious paper out of his possession. It may be concealed some where about his person.” Again Van Rensselaer bent over the sleeper. As he pass ed his hand carefully over the broad chest of the old mau he felt something crumple at his touch, concealed within the vest. ‘* Aha! I have it!” he muttered. A gleam of joy came over his features. ‘“‘There are some papers secreted within the lining of his vest,” he continued. “At last I succeed. It’s lucky that Ithought to bring a knife with me.” And, even as he spoke, he drew a sharp-edged bowie-knife from its sheath, which was fastened to a belt buckled around his waist. He unfastened the old man’s vest and threw it open; then, with the keen-edged knife, he carefully ripped open the lin- ing. Two folded papers lay exposed to his hand. Quickly he carried them to the table, and, by the light of the candle, examined them. A shade of disappointment came over his face as he saw what they were. “‘ Neither one is the will,” he muttered, angrily, ‘‘ What are they? ‘ Philip Van Rensselaer to Sarah Gordon.’ A mar. riage certificate. The date, 1842. This is the proof of my father’s first marriage. ‘A record of the birth and baption of GEomicbooks. Go