Beadle's Dime Library No. 42 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee ee ee SO t— public, and he ought not to do that,” answered the ballet girl. ‘‘T did not believe that he would do such a thing,” Coralie said, slowly. ‘‘ You know people do talk so dreadfully about us who are on the stage. Of course they don’t dare to talk about me, because almost everybody knows that Joe and I are en- gaged. ‘‘ Why, Joe wouldn’t get into a quarrel?” “Oh, no, not into a regular fight, my dear; he knows bet- t.. than that. When he gets into a quarrel, he always goes ana hires the biggest man he can find to do his fighting for him. He says it’s much more gentlemanly than to fight him- self. But you’re sure that you don’t love Mr. Van Rensse- laer? ‘“Yo, I am sure, because—” ‘““Because— Oh! you’ve got a secret! Now, if you don’t tel! it to me instantly I'll bite your little finger off!” ‘‘ Because I love some one else,” and Coralie hid her face on her friend’s shoulder. “How nice!” exclaimed Katie, sympathy in her voice; “and who is it, and where is he?” “‘T don’t know; I haven’t seen him for three years.” “ What a jong time!” ‘‘'Yes; before I went on the stage, I used to sell oranges in the street; I was quite small then; I have growm much taller in the last three years.” ‘‘ And he used to buy your oranges?” “Yes, sometimes, not very often, for he was very poor and couldn’t afford it. He was very dissipated too.” ‘And you loved him in spite of it?” asked Kate, in won- der. “Yes; I couldn't help it. Oh, Katie, you don’t know how fascinating he was! There was something about him that made me love him, in spite of myself. I used to live right opposite to him; and one night I went over to carry an orange to him, and we had a long talk together. He refused to accept my orange as a present, but offered to pay me with a kiss!” ‘‘ What a sensible fellow!” ‘Yes, and in my lips he must have read my heart, for he led me on, little by little, until, at last, I told him how much I loved him,” **You told him?” ‘¢-Yes; I know it was very unmaidenly, but the truth would come in spite of everything. Then he told me how much he loved me, and that he would try to be steady for my sake; then he took me right to his heart, kissed me again and again, and then I ran away.” ‘J don’t believe that I should have done that,” Katie said, seriously. “About an hour afterward I looked out of the window and saw his house all on fire. Iran across the street, un- locked the door of his room—it was locked on the outside —and found him lying senseless on the floor, I dragged him right through the flames into the street. I don’t know what gave me the strength and courage, but I did it; then there was a crash, the wall fell; and when I recovered my senses, ] was in the hospital.” ‘* And the young man?” ‘J don’t know whether he is alive or dead,” the gu re plied, sadly. “But you love his memory thought” ac Yes.” The door opened, and a servant ann.woacerl; * Mr. Van Rensselaer wishes to see you, Miss Coralie,” CHAPTER IV. PREPARING FOR BATTLE. A siiaur quiver agitated Van Rensselaer’s handsome face as be listened to the threat of the Californian. ‘You place the rope of the hangman around my throat?” he said. “That’s my little game, to use the slang term,” replied the detective, coolly. ‘‘-You will find it to be a difficult matter.” ‘But I'll do it, you can bet all your rocks on that. You murdered O’Kale, and for that murder you must answer to the law.” “You in person will not call me to an account,” Van Rensselaer said, a sneer upon his lips. ‘Tt would be poor and paltry vengeance for me, if my hand alone were to strike you. Had I wished to constitute myself the minister of justice, I should not have taken the trouble to visit you and forewarn you of your danger. But I wish you to know that I am living—that I am on your trail, and that my purpose is to give you toa shameful death. You must know that the blow comes from me, or else my ven- geance would lose half its sweetness.” ‘Your words sound like an old-time romance,” Van Renss- elaer said, flippantly. ‘‘ You really take the trouble to warn me of the danger that I am in.” ‘“ Exactly; that you may be on your guard,” replied the Californian, quietly. ‘‘ It is to be a fair and open fight be- tween us—no bushwhacking—and, as the old-time romance would say, may God defend the right.” Van Rensselaer’s lip curled in disdain. ‘‘Now for the programme,” continued the white-hatted detective. ‘‘In the first place, I am going to strike at your reputation. You are part owner of a gambling-room on Twenty-third street. I propose to let the public at large know that fact. I intend to hold you up before all New York as a cheating rascal—a blackleg.” Van Rensselaer started, and cast a glance of fire at the Californian, but it did not trouble that cool and determined gentleman in the least. ‘‘Then, that great and good work accomplished, I’m going to strike at your fortune,” continued Bright. ‘‘ Your half- sister, Alice—I intend to find her and give her the rights to which the law entitles her. After these two blows—the first ‘at your reputation, the second at your fortune—I strike at your life; but the law will be the weapou that I shall use.” “And you intend to do all this?” Van Rensselaer quest- ioned, in contempt. ‘ You’ve heard my programme.” ‘You have forgotten one very important fact.” ‘Indeed! and what is it?” asked the detective, not in the least disturbed. ‘‘A certain paper, calling for a hundred dollars, purport- ing to be signed by me and bearing your indorsements,” Van Rensselaer said, a cold look in his clear blue eyes, and a tone of triumph in his voice. ‘Bless you! I remember all about that,” Bright said, care. lessly. “That paper is still in existence, stil! in my possession, still a weapon against you. I can revive the old forgery charge and send you to Sing Sing, where you will have am. ple time to reflect upon the folly of contending with mel” Van Rensselaer exclaimed, in triumph. ‘* asy as falling off a log, ain’t it?” Bright asked, with a good-humored smile upon his bronzed features. ‘‘ But, David, my boy, to use the old expression, that chicken won’t fight. That bit of paper was indorsed by Royal Keene. Good; I -won’t dispute that fact; but now, just prove if you ean that I am Royal Keene.” rcomichoo %