Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 437 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

: +? ‘vo aoe a. . cy 4 Deep Duke, the Silent Sleuth. ! Dorgan had seen them earlier in the evening;! Levi Peters recoiled as the words were hurled they were Claudia Woodside and the young man of aristocratic appearance. They paused near the street robber’s ambush. ** Are you going in now?” asked Miss Wood- “T think not. I remember that I have a cigar in my pocket, and such things will make a man forget even bright eyes temporarily—” “You are very complimentary.” ‘“*'You brought my remark to an untimely end. I had something very good to say, but now I’ve forgotten it.” “‘T will forgive you; more, I will willingly leave you to your cigar, You can join us anon.” As she spoke the last words she moved toward the house, and ber companion proceeded to light a cigar with great satisfaction. He had just thrown away his match and puffed the cigar to a glowing coal when some one else stepped into his view and stood looking at him in cool ce, The man with the cigar returned the gaze. Dark as it was he knew he was looking at neither the professor nor Philip, and he thought the intruder’s manner insolent. “ Well,” he said, curtly, ‘‘ what do you want?” ‘€T want to see Mr. Horace Wilberson.” **T am he.” **T know it.” “‘ Well, who the dickens are you?” a eka + mek must have injured your eye- sight. Time was when you knew Levi Peters well enough.” Two words fell from Wilberson’s lips—two angry: profane words—but Peters smiled calmly. ou don’t rush to my arms, Horace.” **No, I don’t.” ue Spee f you know of arms to which you would gladly rush—fair, womanly arms. Hor- ace, I congratulate you. You are installed at Woodside House, and the fair Claudia seems to have given you her heart, or a portion—” “TI must request you not to mention her mame,” tartly interrupted Wilberson. “No? Time was when you were not so fas- tidious. Do you remember our compact? You offered me a thousand dollars if I would help . win her.” ‘‘Tt was an infamous bargain, Peters.” “Indeed? When did the devil turn saint? Just because you have got the entree of Wood- side, and think that you have a sure ges you see fit to throw over old friends and old bar- g, ‘‘T was a villain to ever scheme for—for—” “‘ Claudia,” coolly supplied Peters. ‘* Yes. I wasa villain, and I see it now. But you wrong me when you interpret my motives as you did. I do not throw you over, while as to my conduct, a man may reform, may he not? ‘“‘Some men may,” was the coolly sarcastic reply ‘but not Horace Wilberson.” ‘Confound it! you are severe.” + What about the thousand dollars you prom- ised me, my friend?” *“*T haven’t it.” ** But will have when you marry the heiress.” ‘‘ Peters,” said the younger man, earnestly, “don’t press me on this point. I am your friend, and—” “You are my ‘friend’ simply because you are afraid of me. Now that you are ong terms with Lord Woodside and family, you would turn saint and throw me over—if you dared! But, you don’t dare; you shall not. Listen to me, Wilberson. I want a good, cool ten thousand out of the Woodside hoard.” ‘‘ Never!” exclaimed the younger man. ‘I will not give you—” ' “Nobody said you would. I request it of 7 If you refuse, I shall go to the charming laudia. ** Scoundrel!” ‘‘Fair words, if you please. [am not in the graces of an heiress, but I can bend that and all her tribe to my will as the wind does the feeble bush.” ‘‘ This is rank nonsense.” **T don’t know of a bigger fool than he who sits in judgment on his neighbor’s words. Let me illustrate. Whatdo you know about your high and mig professor? How far back can ou trace his career? You know only the oodside of to-day, but I could open your eyes if I would. I will, too. My dear Horace, if you marry Claudia you will wed a murderer’s daughter !” ilberson impatiertly threw off the hand which had been placed upon his shoulder. “Do you think mea fool”. ‘‘No, but, like myself you are a villain. Drop the goody-goody dodge, and let us bleed the Woodsides together. Come, what do you _ say™ ‘I decline.” “ Carefully!” “TJ vonedt tt=1 decline! Your trick is alto- ther too transparent. You might better slan- r any one else than Professor Woodside. He is above reproach.” wt 4 ‘‘He isa criminal, and I can place him in -prison within an hour. I swear ii!” “ Then you swear to a lie!” 4 se ete tt EL LLL LL EERE eS SSS seuss at him in a new voice, and something like con- | sternation fell upon as he saw Claucia Woodside towering before him like a tragedy | queen! Never had coming been more untimely, but if he was rendered speechless, such was not the case with her. ‘*You infamous wretch!” she cried, ‘‘ you have uttered the vilest of falsehoods, but you shall answer to me !” CHAPTER IV. SEEKING A SECRET. lr had been a startling surprise for both men, They had supposed themselves safe from cbser- vers or listeners, and Claudia Woodside’s ap- pearance was enough to dismay any one after such a conversation. Sbe had heard serious charges against her father, and resented them with her usual spirit, and there seemed ab- solutely no way to smooth the matter over. Horace Wilberson was especialiy startled. His companion had analyzed him very correct- ly. He had more regard for himself than for honor. He was of a weak nature: too weak to buffet fate boldly, and too weak to stick to honor when he could better his prospects by re- sorting to dishonorable means. Now, after long, careful efforts to win Claudia, he found the whole structure reeling about him, and he felt despair. Levi Peters had an older, cooler head. He had made serious charges against the professor, but it was not likely Claudia had heard the worst; she would be above eavesdropping. He quickly rallied and prepared to fight his way out of the difficulty. 1t must be done, even enn he temporarily placed himself in a humiliating position. ‘* Beg pardon, miss,” he said, with a mixture of politeness and surliness more common to those of lower social rank than his, ‘‘ but what’s all this row about?” ‘*T am Professor Woodside’s daughter.” ‘* The blazes you are!” exclaimed Peters, sim- ulating surprise. ‘* Tam, and I want to know what you mean by such es as I have overheard?” ‘*If you overheard anything you must have acted the eavesdropper.” ‘* It is false!” Claudia cried, scornfully. ‘‘ Do you suppose I would listen to such as you if I could help it?) It was not my fault that, as I ap- proached, I heard you say my father wasa criminal and that you could place him in prison. You know that was false. This gentleman spoke the truth when he told you that Professor W ood- side was above reproach. What dare you charge against him? Explain yourself. at is your charge?” She spoke imperiously, as though he was un- worthy of a word from her, but Peters did not resentit. He smiled secretly, for he knew the storm could be averted. ‘*This man would not give mea dollar,” he grumbled. ‘And you took revenge by slandering my father?” ‘*T meant no harm.” Peters assumed a hang-dog, sulky air, and at the same time gave Wilberson a sly kick to stir his wits. The latter took the hint. ‘You are liable to harm by letting your tongue run so freely—harm to yourself!” ke re- torted. ‘* Now, my man, I will give you no money after this, and you are not wanted in these grounds. ltisa private place. Will you move on at once?” He bad fallen into line just as Peters wished and the latter pretended to obey sulkily and shambled off. The darkness prevented Claudia from seeing that he was well-dressed, and she supposed him a mere tramp. It would hardly be dignified to waste words on such a fellow and she saw him go willingly. ‘* An evil person,” commented Wilberson, ‘‘T will follow and see that he really leaves the grounds.” He dared not do otherwise; he wanted to speak with the intruder and close his mouth, It would not do to let him talk; be could oust Mr. Horace Wilberson from his enviable position at Wood- side by a word. Peters paused at the gate. ‘*T helped you out of that fix,” he said. ‘* You got me into it.” ‘‘Wrong. You should not have quarreled with me.” ‘* What do you mean to do now?” Peters langked lightly. ‘*{[ mean to win, It is for you to say whether you will be in the game or out of it.” ‘*T must have a long talk with in I have no idea what vou are driving at, but this is no time to explain. Where can I see you?” Peters gave an address, and a time was set for an interview. Then he went back to Claudia, after a few words from his more astute compan- ion as to how he could best allay any suspicions the girl might still have. The intruder did not delay longer, but hurried | away down the street. He did not court scruti- ny in the light of the street-lamps. He has passed asa mere eee wi | i tage th Miss Woodside, — | _ Were he to be plainly seen this idea would fade away. He was as well-dressed and polished | looking as Wilberson himself. He had not done any good by seeing Horace, but be found some comfort in reflecting on the | ready wit by which he had deceived Miss Wood- | side, so he walked away in good spirits. Luck now turned against him. His delay in ' the grounds corresponded with the time Duke Dorgan had Toicieed to searching for bim, and it came to pass that, as the detective started homeward, a figure suddenly crossed the line of his vision which he recognized at once. It was the man who had robbed him of one- half of Zachary Rose’s picture! Dorgan at once became the alert detective. He had longed to see this man again: he saw him now, is first impulse was to hurry for- watd and seize him, but this plan was quickly discarded. Plainly, the thief had not seen him, and the uickest way of learning more about him was to ollow where he went. So Duke crossed the street to the other sidewalk, and from that mo- ment Peters had a keen, patient foe on his track —the Silent Sleuth was abroad! The rogue did not suspect it. His encounter with the detective had n almost forgotten in the pressure of other matters. He looked at his watch, and then hurried on along several streets. Where he went the sleuth followed. In this way the detective was led to the lower part of the city, and to a locality far less re- spectable than that from which they started. In fact, to the lowest part of the city in a moral and social sense. Finally Peters turned and abruptly disap- peared. <A few steps showed Duke that he had gone into an alley which led between two old, wooden houses, and he promptly followed. Thus he was led to a court, upon which fronted sev- eral more wooden houses, It was not an inviting-looking place. Itmight be honest, but was not clean. Deep Duke, however, thought mostly of the man hs was following, and he kept his gaze sharply fixed upon him. Peters walked straight across the court, and entered one of the houses without ringing or knocking. The detective glanced sharply around, Sev- eral men, women and children were lounging on the steps of some of the houses, but none at that particular one. He followed his man as boldly as though he lived there, and walked into the house as he had seen his predecessor do, He was in a hall pOSeny Jentes by a kerosene lamp. No one was near at band, but he could see a pair of legs just disappearing at the top of the stairs. He coolly ascended after the legs. They alee, belong to his man, but he believed they did. Before he reached the top he heard two men greet each other. No one was visible, but he quickly observed a few facts. Two doors, each of a different room, opened into the hall. These doors were now open. In the front’ room were the two men, busily talking, and there, too, was alight. There was none in the rear room, but a broad band of light fell upon the poorly-car- peted floor. From this the detective argued that the rooms were connected, and he be- Heed that a desired opportunity was before m. Quickly the sleuth glided into the, second room, As he had thought it connected with the front room, and he moved to the most desirable point, Conversation continued, and two men were to be seen seated at a table. One was the person Deep Duke had followed—he recognized the form, the face being invisible. The second man, a burly, brutal-looking fellow, abruptly rose and closed the door which led to the hall. ‘‘Now talk on,” he said, refilling two glasses yi Ht “— ou know why I’ve come,” observed Peters. ‘Ef Ido, I also hope you’ve got a boodle in yer pocket.” ‘ T regret to say that I have not.” ‘* No pay, no talk,” declared the big man. **T will raise it, though.” **'When you do, I'll talk.” **Come now, don’t peer that way. Can’t you trust me? You shall have all your news is worth.” ‘* Promises won’t fill the growler nur buy the weed. Uncle Sam’s notes will.” ‘** See here, Abe,” Peters impatiently said, ‘ I hope you are not going to be severe, I tried to raise money to-night, but my man kicked end some one else jumped into the arena and spoiled the game, It’s a sure thing, though, and I make this offer; Pl give you a ten now, and the balance within two days.” ‘* Le’s see the X.” Peters drew out a crisp bank-note, and Abe looked at it greedily. ‘It’s pied fur two hundred beers,” he said, musingly. ‘‘A bird in the hand— Pass it _ over. old man, I'll talk.” Peters obeyed, and his disreputable-looking | companion stowed the paper carefully away in his ragged vest. G¢boo ** Now for Ie fona t / . -