Beadle's Dime Library No. 42 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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28 “Tf she would only turn out to be the heir now,” he murmured, as he walked up the street. “What a terrible vengeance that would be, for me to marry the woman whose presence in the world robs Van Rensselaer of half his fortune! Half his fortune!” he repeated pid ‘Wh not the whole? Why not with one blow crush him to tho earth, a oe mo The face of the detective grew dark and troubled as he brooded over the question. ‘*By heaven! [ll do it!” he extlaimed, deci- dedly, after a long pause, during which he had revolved the subject over in his mind. ‘“T’ll hit upon some scheme. First his reputation; then his fortune; and then—shall the gallows play a prominent part in the last act of the rama? We shall see.” As the detective turned into the avenue, he nearly ran over Oward, the reporter, who was gh fs down the street. 7 o!” cried Joe; ‘‘ you’re the very man I want to see,” ‘Well, what is it?” ‘When does that little affair come off?” ‘* What affair do you mean?” “What you told me about when we were driving down town from. the masquerade last night—the descent on the club-room.” ‘Ah, yes, I remember now,” Bright said. “I rather think I shall explode the mine to-night.” ‘*You promised to let me know, you know. It will make a splendid sensation article.” ‘* Yes, particularly when you explain that a descendant of one of the oldest and best families in New York is the proprietor of the den,” Bright said, with a quiet smite. ‘*Oh, it will make a sensation, sure!” the re- 5 pai exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, lee : en Well, meet me at the Fifth Avenue Hotel to-night about nine. Ishall know by that time whether it will come off to-night or not.” ‘** Depend upon me; I'll be on hand.” Then the two parted. Bright proceeded directly to the Central Police Station, and had a long interview with | Sain EE Beadle’s Dime Library. ——— ae SS — — emma 2 ce - —- + - ‘*T no understand.” ‘* Why, it is the will of his father, Philip. This will has just come to light. It rather in- terferes with David, and he would give a good round price to get his fingers upon the will and destroy it.” : i You tink so, eh?’ the Jew said, thought- ully. ‘*Why, man, [know so. Come, you owe me a little for letting Van Rensselaer get hold of that note. Now, then, I want you to take this will to Van Rensselaer and offer to sell it to him; or, rather go to him and tell him that you know where the will is, and that for a tate price will place it in his hands.” ** Ah, I see, my tear; you vant monish, eh?” ‘* It’s a very natural want; almost everybody in this world is troubled that way.” ‘*Dat ish true; you come mit me to mine office, and I talks mit you.” in arm the two proceeded up the street. CHAPTER XXII. UNEXPECTED VISITORS. On Twenty-third street, only a few hundred yards from Broadway, was a handsome brown- stone mansion. Unlike all the other houses in the street, which had lights flashing from the windows, this one was perfectly dark. The blinds were drawn down closely, and nothing without gave _ sign of life within. Th e night was a dark and cloudy one; but few people were passing in the street, for the hour of ten had struck, and even Broadway be- gan to be less crowded with human forms. It was strange, this house dark and solitary beside the brilliantly lighted ones at its side! The mansion was not deserted, though, for there was just a little glimmer of light through the stained glass panel over the door. Yet, despite the gloom which hung around the house, it had a steady stream of visitors, some on foot and some in carriages. They ascended the so rung the bell, and the door opened almost instantly, showing the Superintendent of Police, and when he | plainly that the guardian of the portal was d with that gentleman, there was a smile of triumph playing around his lips. | ‘“‘ The first blow to-night,” he muttered; “the second will soon follow. I don’t intend to give | him breathing time between the strokes. Cran-— shaw may be back to-morrow. If he succeeds in finding out any thing about the heir—any | thing tat will give me a clue as to where she 1s 1 ask for nothing more.” | As Bright turned into Broadway he came face to face with Abrams, the diamond broker. | “Hold on!” he cried, catching that worthy | gentleman by the arm. | *““What you wants mit me?” exclaimed the | Jew, in astonishment, gazing into the face of | the other. | ** You don’t know me, eh?’ | ** So s’help me, I never saw you before!” . “Oh, yes, you have; take a good look at me.” | The Jew adjusted his eye-glasses on his nose > and surveyed Bright keenly. Gradually a look | of recognition came over his face. **Oh, Moses! if ’tisn’t Mister Keene!” And the Jew grasped him cordially by the hand. ‘Hush! don’t mention the name quite so loud, please,” Bright said, drawing the broker to one side. ‘* Vash is de matter, my tear?’ asked the Jew, inquiring y: ; You forget that little bit of paper that I de- posited with you about three years ago, and which you disposed of to David Van Rensselaer. , Oh, Abrams! to go back on a friend in that re and the detective shook his head mourn- | fully. or vash not mine fault; you no come as you sail and take up de note,” the Jew exclaimed, with outstretched hands, ‘“‘When a man pours in liquor he generally drives out sense,” Bright said, tersely. ‘‘ Why, you gave me bound hand and foot, right into | the clutches of my worst enemy.” “So s’help me Isaac! I thought he vash a friend of yours all de vile!” Abrams pro- tested. a pretty hobble. I had to ¥ ‘You got me into got out of the country. ‘“You leaf your guntree for your guntree’s goot, eh?’ and the Jew chuckled at the joke. ‘‘ Hxactly; and now, old boy, I’ve got another little bit of business with you.” ‘Dat ish all right. I hafe do much bisness with you. I hafe bought almost every t’ing you hafe in de world, from your diamonds down to your boots,” and the jolly broker l.uvhed, buisterously. ‘‘ You ish a goot feller; 1 likes you very much. You hafe somet’ing to sell—1 gifes you goot price for it,” ‘“ {tis a certain paper—” ; ‘*No more notes, mine goot friend—” | “Don’t be in a hurry,” interrupted the de- | tective; ‘it isn’t a note, but a will—” ‘* A will!” exclaimed the Jew, in amazement. ‘¢ What you s’pose I do mit a will, eh?’ “© Sell it!” “Who would buy such a ting?” | “Only one man in the world, and that man, | David Van Rensselaer,” \ near at hand and on the alert. Had any one of a curious turn of mind stood in the street and watched the entry of the visi- tors, he would have noticed that there were no ladies among them, and that they were all well dressed—plainly men of standing. Some of the visitors walked directly by the colored gentleman who attended to the door, merely nodding their heads as they passed; these were ores. no strangers to the house. Others paused on the threshold and exchanged a few words with the ebony guardian, and then pom on; these seemed to be strangers to the ouse and doorkeeper. But when the guests had door, an inner one, tightly closed, passage; and, behind the door, another colored gentleman through a small wicket, kept a wary eye upon the applicants for admission. Passing the second Cerberus, the visitors as- cended a broad and winding stair-case, covered by a velvet carpet, into which the foot sunk, so rich was the texture. At the head of the stair- way arichly-stained glass door gave entrance to a parlor, so magnificently fitted up that it seemed like a of some Eastern king. It was, indeed, the reception room of a mon- arch, King Faro! A sovereign, whose crown jewels are formed of the pearly tears of gam- lers’ beggared wives and children, and the red life-drops from the ruined suicide’s heart. The elegant mansion we have described was what is commonly termed a “club-room;” in plainer English, a ‘‘ gambling-den.” The latter name is apt. Few men stake their money ann the turning of a card but find it so in the end. The paws of ‘‘ the tiger” are velvet ones, but the claws they hide give terrible wounds. The room was well filled with players. a little knot of people were gathered aroun faro table. Every once in a while one of the players, his face pale and haggard, would leave the little | circle, walk, almost. mechanically, to the side- board, covered with a glittering array of decan- ters, fill himself a glass of brandy and toss it off ata draught, then return again to the green- . covered board, whereon, perhaps, he was stak- ing not only his money, but his i ana upon the uncertain chance of the card handled by the dextrous fingers of the professional gambler. Seated in a chair near the faro table, watch- ing the game but not playing, was David Van the outer barred their uite the _ Rensselaer. To judge from his listless manner, one would think that he had strolled into the gaming saloon more for the purpose of passing away an idle _ hour than of risking his money at the game of chance. Just then two more visitors entered. One of the two was Bishop. The other was an elaborately t up individual, with light, eh hair and flowing side-whiskers, who look- ed like an Englishman. When Bishop saw Van Rensselaer he excused himself to his friend and came at once to the | New Yorker, * be have you got there ?” Van Rensselaer aske ‘* He’s a young Englishman whom I was in- troduced to to-night at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. His name is Thornly. He’s just from the other side of the water, plenty of money and very little brains. He wanted a little amusement, so I volunteered to show him around.” ‘Ts he going to play?” ** I guess I can induce him to, if the ‘ bank’ is willing to do the fair thing by me,” said Bishop, with a covert glance in the face of the other. ‘* Well, I don’t know much about it,” Van Rensselaer observed, carelessly. ‘Doctor Hal- len, fect has some inte in the establish- ment, I believe.” Van Rensselaer indicated a slender, sallow-faced man, with small gray eyes, who was leaning carelessly on a chair near the sideboard. apf to him; but, first, Pll introduce the Englishman to you.” Bishop joined the a and brought him over to where Van Rensselaer was. ‘* Allow me, Thornly, to introduce you to a eee Rensselaer, one of our old New York . : The gentlemen bowed and shook hands. ‘‘ Excuse me for a moment; 1 wish to speak to a friend over there,” and Bishop left the two together and accosted the man leaning on the back of the chair. oh ae you going to play, sir?’ Van Rensselaer ** Yas, I think so, you know,” the Englishman replied, sucking the head of his cane and star- pa, Seo pd around him. an Rensselaer looked at the stranger, in wonder. The tones of his voice seemed strange- ly familiar to him. The Englishman did not . seem to notice the look. ‘Your voice seems very familiar to me,” Van Rensselaer said. ‘* Yas, deuced odd, isn’t it? never saw you be- fore, you know,” the Englishman replied, still sucking the head the little cane. Bishop and Hallen had walked over to one of the windows and were engaged in a busy conversation. ‘*] won’t do it,” replied Hallen, decidedly, . in answer to something that Bishop had said “Oh, yes, you will!” replied Bian coolly ; *‘there ain’t a bit of use of trying to kick up a fuss. Better acknowledge the corn at once. ‘*How in blazes did you put up this job?” asked Hallen, in sullen anger. **Don’t_you worry about that,” said Bishop coolly and soothingly; “‘ the thing is fixed, an Bon can no more stop it than you can roll the ast river backward. It’sa good offer; better oS it. He’s played out now, I tell you; ‘shake’ im. For a few moments the gambler was silent, evidently weighing the matter over in his mind. Suddenly he spoke. “Tl do it!” he cried, with an oath; ‘‘he’d throw me overboard in a minute if he took it into his head to do so.” “You never said a truer thing in your life, Doc. It’s a bargain, then?’ se Yes.” The two separated. But, as Bishop was crossing the room to where Van Rensselaer and the nglishman were, a tall, slender young fellow, with a white hat and a reckless, jaunty air, sauntered into the room. “Well, Bob?” questioned Bishop, anxiously accosting the new-comer. ‘‘Tt’s all right,” said the other, with a wink; “my ‘get-up’ k both the darkeys for all they were worth. Lord! Ne ought to have seen the old inside cuss s when I snapped the bracelets on bim. He started to ral a howl, but hb the revolver under his nose and he weakened.” ‘The men are in the house, then?” ** All co-rect, but we can’t get at the back way; the doors down-stairs are locked,” ‘‘ Haven’t either of the darkeys got the keys?” ‘* No, we searched them.” ‘‘ We'll have to look out for them up here then. Come with me, and we'll quietly make our way to the door.” So the two sauntered into the back room, and ' stationed themselves at one of the doors there. So carelessly had the ined their position, that no one suspected they had any other motive than an idle curiosity to overlook the game. _ The Englishman had been staring around the room like an owl brought suddenly into the light. Suddenly he took his cane down from his mouth, drew a whistle from his pocket, placed it to his lips and blew a shrill blast upon it. So quick had been the action that even Van Rensselaer, standing by his side, had not noticed it until the shrill sont: pierced his ears, The room was in confusion in aninstant. All realized that danger was near at hand. A second more and the blue-coated Metropol- itans poured in through the doorway. The J gay as made a frantic rush toward the rear door, but Bishop and the white-hatted youth, with drawn revolvers, kept them back, > } ee ee mMicboo (E(©) Cc Cs) (E(0)| —— —_—~-? - ©2 OFO By prope Sore wre 2 ll OW I stemnecnmeoeag danest 2? @ ae Doe and =o