Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 437 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 ing walks looked neater than the average; the grass greener and the trees more shapely: and many an eye had looked enviously on the place, while passers-by thought that the owner ought to be a happy man, On a certain afternoon a tall, broad-shoulder- ed man of about thirty years entered the engin through the front gate, passed to the ouse and rung the bell. When it was answer- ed by a neat-looking servant girl, he handed her a card with the brief direction that she should take it to her young master. Being of an inquisitive turn of mind she read the inscription as she went. **Duke Dorgan!” she murmured. ‘S Why, there’s a detective of that name—Deep Duke they call him—and the man below looks just like an officer. lll bet he is. Now, I wonder what brings him here? It’s awful queer, but Tl know why.” She soon returned to the applicant to say that Mr. Philip Woodside would see him, and duly conducted him to the library. A handsome, frank young man of twenty- five years arose to greet him. ‘‘This is Mr. Dorgan, I suppose?” ‘Yes, sir, Iam Duke Dorgan.” “ Aud I am Philip Woodside, author of the note which doubtless brought you here,” ‘‘ And surprised me. I hardly expected such a thing, accustomed thou~h I am to deal with people of all grades. I have always had an idea yours was a very peaceful life. trust there is nothing to worry you seriously.” ‘Not a thing; not even a dishonest servant. As you say, we are very peaceful, easy-going people. The case upon which you are to work, if at all, does not directly concern me; [ am only engaged upon it because [ wanted some- thing to occupy my time, Thank fortune, Woodside is not menaced.” ‘** You are fortunate.” ‘Yes. Well, as to the case. Our minister brought me word of a worthy woman who was in trouble and poor. Would [ help her? I caught at the chance. I was longing for some- thing to stir my blood a trifle.” '* Am I to work for her ?” ‘‘ Yes, with me for a paymaster,” Philip ex- plained, smilirig. ‘‘ In a word, the woman wants a husband.” ‘‘ Let her advertise in a matrimonial paper.” “Her want is not in that direction. She is already married, but her husband is mysterious- ly missing, She has lived in Bangor, Maine, where she became a bride, blushing or other- wise, but has come to Jersey City to find the missing man, That’s why you are called into the case,” ** To find him?” ‘* Yes; nothing more ° ‘Ts the woman here?” ‘* Hardly, but wecan reach her in ten minutes. If you can devote your time professionally to the case we will go at once, and I will pay for your services.” Duke Dorgan did not hesitate. It was a chance which promised a good job at least. Probably he would succeed in finding the miss- ing man without much trouble, and Phili oodside would be likely to reward him hand- somely. The latter put on his hat, and they started to visit the wife minus a husband. From Philip’s further explanation on the way Duke learned that her name was Rose. Her husband had been missing a good many years, and she had given him up as dead when some tidings, believed to be veracious had brought her to Jersey City. At the en reached a small They entered, and Rose. She was apparently aged about forty years, and though it was hard to believe she had ever had any special gift of beauty, was now prepos- sessing in the way which even homely people may be if a good heart leaves its sign upon their faces, Duke Dorgan was at once in sympathy with this little woman. She looked weak and irreso- lute of character, but for that very reason was all the more to be pitied. ‘¢ Here I am again, Mrs. Rose,” exclaimed Philip, cheerfully, *“‘ and my visit is a practical —— , of fifteen minutes the two men plain, old-fashioned house. were soon in the presence of one, This is Mr. Dorgan, a professional detec- tive; who will try to find Zachary Rose for you ” The little woman’s eyes grew actually star- ed. ‘‘But I have no money to pay him!” “T have,” Woodside coolly replied. ‘‘ When I set out to help a person I never do things by halves. Mr. Dorgan knows he is to look to me for pay, and you have only to tell your story. Pray ao so without delay, for a detective’s time is precious.” rs. Rose remonstrated no further. She was only too glad to have this rich young man with the Sisertal smile come to her aid, and equally eager to have the mystery of her life lained eX} ‘ “She told her story at some length, but it may be abridged agen ae , _Her maiden name had been Eunice Eastman; ey Sa Ie oe ES 2 AT ae ee her native place was Bangor, Maine, Twenty | ears before she had married a man named Zachary Rose, and lived with him nearly two years. Then he disappeared, suddenly, com- pletely, mysteriously. Dorgan laughed and agreed to oblige this rich oung man. It might be worth his while, and if no intricate work was to be done, a novice , ' could not well hurt the case. They separated and the detective walked away For nearly a score of years she heard nothing | alone. from him, and had long believed him dead when | news reached her that he had been seen in Jer- | She came to the place, but all her ture?’ he mentally inquired. ot a trace could | sey City. searching availed nothing, she find of Zachary Rose, Discoure zed and out of money, she finally ap- plied toa clergyman for help, and he in turn recommended her to Philip Woodside. The latter entered into the case willingly. He | was the sonof a rich man and time hung heavily | on his hands. It pleased his fancy to engage Deep Duke Dorgan to prosecute the search for Rose, and he had a vague idca of helping in the search himself in an amateur way. 4 People who knew the young man’s nature might have prophesied that. he would lose all his zeal in twenty-four hours, but just then he was enthusiastic. He little knew the mischief he was destined to bring about by associating himself with Mrs. | Rose’s cause! He was in a very thoughtful mood. ‘* Where have I seen the original of that pic- ‘*T seem to see two faces very much alike—the face of a man now twenty yeurs older than when the picture was taken. Who is he?” Earnestly he applied his mind to a solution of the question, but without result. He could not place the counterpart of the picture. The re- semblance, however, gave him an interest in the case he seldom felt in one which seemed so triv- ial. Trivial! Such was the word he used, little suspecting that he had entered upon the most perplexing case of his life. CHAPTER It. A MATE TO THE PICTURE. It is no easy task to find a certain pears in Jersey City, for not only is the place a large one, but if is practically a part of New York and Duke Dorgan heard the little woman in si-; Brooklyn. Here are three cities in a line, the lence, but his attentive mind stored each item carefully away. ‘‘Who was the man who said that he saw Zachary Rose here?” he asked. ‘*‘ Why didn’t he come along to help you rediscover the truant?” ‘He is a sailor, sir, and put out from New- | buryport, Massachusetts, the day after he wrote | me.” ‘Ts he a reliable man?’ ‘Oh! yes, sir.” ‘‘ And you are sure he would not stoop to such a low trick as to say he had seen Rose when he had not?” ‘‘He would not do that, sir, I am sure.” ‘“Did he know your husband well, in the old days.” ‘‘Intimately, sir; ceived,” ‘‘Then we will admit that we have a case. Have you a picture of Mr. Rose?” ‘*T have one taken twenty years ago,” and the woman passed over the article in question, Photography was not so far advanced as an art then as now, but the picture had been well pre- served and was in good condition. Dorgan looked at it attentively. It represent- ed a man not much less than forty years of age, with’a bristling beard and a face of more than ordinary intelligence. Indeed, Dorgan would have supposed the original capable of more than a common , ‘‘Did you say your husband was a lumber- man, madam?” he slowly asked. ‘Yes, sir. He worked in the pine woods.” There was another silence, during which the detective attentively studied the picture. As he looked a puzzled expression appeared on his face. It might be a bP idea, but it seemed to him that he had somewhere seen the original of that picture. There was something very famil- iar about every feature, and especially about the broad, high forehead, His silent, searching scrutiny became so pro- longed that Mrs. Rose looked surprised, but Philip had seen something on the street which held his attention, and he paid no heed, Finally the detective resumed his questions. ‘“You say your husband was a lumberman? Did he ever work at anything else?” ** Not while I knew him.” ‘« How long was that?” ‘‘ Three years.” ‘Then he was a stranger to you until just be- fore your marriage. Was he also a stranger to Bangor?” as it fancy, or did Mrs, Rose look annoyed at the question? She answered quietly, in the affirmative, however. __ ‘* You have no idea, I su , what business he might adopt here or in New York, over the river, which may be his real place of business?” ‘‘ Not unless he worked on the rivers, sir. He was & ie: boatman, and won quite a reputation while driving logs on the Maine rivers.” ‘* May I keep this photograph, Mrs. Rose?” “Tf you will be careful of it.” Dorgan promised, and then arose to leave. Philip went out with him, and both paused on the sidewalk. ‘‘Have you any theory?” the younger man asked. ‘* Not yet.” ** T should like to hel hard work for me to kill tim ‘Why don’t you — your father, the fessor?” interrupted the detective, with a smile. Philip shrugged his shoulders. ‘*Not I! a tie. if poverty fell upon me I could be a plumber, or coal-heaver, but a scien- tist—never! It’s not tomy taste. But I I should make an admirable detective, and, if you don’t object, Pll join you to-morrow morning. I feel a thrill of self-congratulation at baving help- ed this woman, and if Ican only geta little excite- ment out of it, I shall be ahappy man. This monotony is terrible; I want a row—a stir—a so he could not be de- you. It is confounded e—’? rumpus—anything tor fun!” *j \ . spd he AIS Re oh Sern a Ne * * ae 4 é = ‘ - -~ ~~ > all Fad bd < * a Py ee A) ee 5 a d cP nm en fancy | combined population of which is not far from two millions. It is no child’s play to find a miss- ing man in such a multitude, especially one who has been absent a score of years. Deep Duke went about the work pp and systematically. Long experience had made the bare outline of official duty a mechanical task. His first act was to set the machinery of law in motion. All this was simple; if the case proved intricate, he would have to depart from the beaten path and show individual skill. 3 All that afternoon he was haunted by the feel- ing that he had some time, and somewhere, seen the original of the picture which was in his pocket, bat, meditate as he would, he could not remember anything defimte. ; Again and again he went over the past, call- ing to mind men he bad known and seen. None of them was like Zachary Rose. He had seen many persons in humble life, and of the order to which the missing man might bcelong—pilots, deck-hands, *longshoremen and the like—but when he called them to mind, the desired face did not appear. It was singular how his impression haunted him, and how the truth evaded him. This an- noyed, yet made him all the more zealous. ‘I am going to find Zachary Rose,” he de- clared, again and again, to himself; and he was noted for being as obstinate as he was skillful, secret in his methods and chary of speech. By night he had formed a plan for the follow- ing day, and as he remembered Philip Wood- side’s request that he might be allowed to join in the search, he saw the need of notifying him. Accordingly, he walked over to the mansion. When he reached the grounds the first shadows of twilight were falling, but the oasis of shrub- we grass and trees looked wonderfully cool pleasant. Duke looked admiringly about. As he did so a lady and gentleman passed along an intersecti ha with slow steps and gay conversation. ey glanced at him—no Another momen more. and he was doubtless forgotten. he detective knew that the lady was Claudia Woodside, sister of Philip, and mis of Wood- side House. He knew, too, that she was young and charming, but he fancied there was a sug- tion of disdain in the glance she cast toward im. He may bave misconstrued her. Her companion was a young man two or three years her senior, and though he was a stranger to Dorgan, the latter at once placed him as a member of the aristocratic class. Claudia Woodside’s companions were not likely to be anything less; although Professor Woodside never went into “ socie y,” his wealth and posi- tion easily placed his children among the select and elect of the city. Duke Dorgan’s brief viey of the stranger’s face did not impress him favorably. ‘* He has a ‘ sharkish ’ lock,” he thought. This, however, was nothing which concerned him, and he weht on into the house. He was at once ushered into the presence of the heir of Woodside, whom be found in the pro- fessor’s study The jatter bad only just return- ed, and was giving his son directions about some trifiing affair. e detective was allowed to in- terrupt them, because it was sup that his visit would be short, and the master of the house was no disciple of exact ceremony. Philip introduced the other men, and then all sat down. Owing to the partial darkness of the room, Dorgan could see but little of the professor, but this was immaterial. He already knew him by sight, and did not expect business relations with h ‘* Well,” said Philip, promptly, ‘‘ what news?” ‘* None, as yet.” ‘¢ Not a trace of the man?” ‘‘No: it was not to be expected so soon. He has had twenty years to hide, and five hours is not sufficient time to find him. I came, how- ever, to say that I am going to Brooklyn to pur- sue my search to-morrow. and if you <€om e really Ebooksi'com a ba + ® A . ——— i t ee ¢