Beadle's Dime Library No. 465: The Actor Detective — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

‘ —— Se 16 ~The Actor Detective. pa owe wt om #2 - ww Oe — SS ee eee eS ie Se A ae —_——— | «Tf there isa love affair between them, and general thing the inhabitants of such a place do I do not couch the letter in affectionate terms, not trouble themselves much about the local she will wonder at it and her suspicions may be | happenings in a city so distant from them as excited. ‘*¢ But then, on the other hand, if they are not lovers, and [ write an affectionate letter, she | won’t know what to make of it. ‘* In avoiding the frying-pan one may fall iato “The only safety isin adopting a happy me- dium.” So he wrote: **My Dear EstTeLLe:— ‘** Tam unexpectedly called South, having received intelligence that I have fallen heir to a large for- tune. Lam obliged to depart in such haste that I haven’t even time to say good-by, except after this fashion. Drop me a line to Corpus Christi, Texas, to let me know that you have received this, and I will answer at length, explaining everything.” This he signed, ‘‘ Yours truly.” ‘“‘That may mean much or little,” he said, with a cunning chuckle, Then taking precautions to leaveeverything in the apartment exactly as he foundthem when he entered, he retreated to the other room, by means of his skeleton key locked the door, and then set out to dispose of the letters. The one addressed to the landlady he placed upon the parlor table as he descended to the lower story. The two addressed respectively to the mana- ger of the theater and the young actress he i a boy a ten-cent piece to deliver at the x-office of the theater, and watched the lad to be certain that he performed the task. This done he turned his steps to one of the down-town hotels where he had a room, secured his traps and hurried to the Jersey City Ferry. ‘** Now for Texas as fast as the iron horse can . ca me!” he murmured as the boat swung out Pg from the New York shore. " A half-hour later he vas in the train and on his way. : CHAPTER XXIV. MORE PRECAUTIONS. Rok settled down in the car with the ease of an old traveler, and prepared to get all the en- joyment ible out of the journey. : He could not res Se busy, ever active mind though from calculating in regard to the bold e tion he had undertaken, although he did his best to keep from thinking about it. + ‘‘It is all right,” he kept repeating to him- self. ‘I mustn't allow my mind to dwell too much on one subject or I shall end by going mad, ‘*That ass of a doctor in France predicted I would wind upin a lunatic asylum, but I will not live long enough for such an event to occur. **No, no, the moment I find that my senses are beginning to reel—and I[ am too gooda ease of myself not to discover the fact long ore any one else does—I will quietly take a _ -Tevolver and scatter my disordered brains to the four winds. ‘* Better death—quick death, the Lethe that drowns all remembrance, than a lingering, wretched, miserable existence within the w of a lunatic asylum. _ * But the fellow isa thorough-faced donkey despite the fact that he is regarded as one of the first doctors in Paris—and that is equiva- ent to saying one of the foremost in the — world. - ** Men of my stamp never go mad—it is only _ shallow-pated fools who lose their wits—what a ridiculous way that is of putting it, for nine- — Met tenths of the lunatics never had any brains to lose.” ci And then he laughed heartily to himself at _ What he evidently considered to be a quaint conceit. But for all his jesting a careful observer ‘would have detected that he had been deeply affected by the warning and was afraid that in _ time the prediction might come true. But for all his endeavors he could not keep his - thoughts from the ata a upon which he had so boldly embarked. __ ** Have I taken all possible precautions in this matter?” he queried. ‘‘ Has everything been attended to that it was in my power to look after?” And then a thought suddenly crossed his brain _. which gave him considerable uneasiness. “TT have neglected one important point,” he murmured, his brow growing dark at the — thought. __ * T have not taken measures to be informed in _ yegard to whether the body of the actor is dis- - eovered and identified or not. _ * That may prove to be a fatal error, for if I goto Corpus Christi and introduce myself as Edmund Keene, and then after I have succeed- - edin establishing myself, and no one suspects that I am aught but what I claim to be, the ‘news arrives that the body of the actor has been found on the Hudson River Railroad track, all the fat would be in the fire. Let me weigh the chances. ‘Tn the first place the Texan town of Corpus Christi is a long way from New York, the means tt _ of communication slow and uncertain, and as a et ees ‘ ' ' i —— — _$ —_—_—_—— —- -— ae aa ‘pur erence A Tw: “<j New York. ‘Tf the body is discovered and identified, and the New York newspapers choose to make a sen- sation out of it, the articles might be copied by | the New Orleans journals and so the news would | reach Corpus Christi. ‘There isn’t any newspaper published in the town, and the citizens must depend upon the Galvesto. and New Orleans journals for their news. / ‘*T cannot prevent the tidings from, reaching the town if the reporters in New York get on the scent, but | can tuke measures so I will be the first to learn the news,” When the train arrived at Philadelphia, the adventurer was quick to take measures to ac- | complish this object. | Hurrying to the post-office he sent the money | for a month’s subscription to three of the lead- | ing New York newspapers, directing that the journals be forwarded to Edmund Keene, Cor- pus Christi, Texas. ‘* There,” he murmured, as he deposited the letters in the post and turned to retrace his steps to the depot, ‘‘ I think I can depend upon Uncle Sam to bring me the first intelligence in regard to the matter that can possibly reach Corpus Christi.” At the time of which we write, the marvelous enterprise which the news-gatherers now dis- | play of flashing all possible topics of interest | north, south, east and west, so that the strug- gling country journal is as well posted on what is going on in the great centers of the world as the metropolitan newspapers themselves, was in its infancy, and the service was not per- | formed one-tenth part as well as it is at pres-_ ent. This was the only interruption to the jour- | ney. si went straight by rail to New Orleans, took steamer from there to Galveston, and at the Texan metropolis boarded a coasting schooner bound for Corpus Christi, which, luckily for his | se, set sail in three hours after he landed in the town. Fortune seemed determined to favor the ad- | venturer, for the schooner made an unusually yp passage, having the wind in her favor all | t ' | e way. The skipper of the coasting craft was an old Texan and had resided in Corpus Christi many years, and when Roe discovered this fact, he | made strong efforts to make himself agrevable to the sailor. | The skipper was a blunt, open-hearted sailor, | like the majority of his class, and being of a | somewhat talkative disposition, and the young | man as expert as a lawyer in putting leading | questions without appearing to be endeavoring | to extract information, talking merely to pass | the time away, so it noe; Gertie that long before | the schooner made her berth at Corpus Christi, | Roe was as well acquainted with the town, and | as well posted in regard to its inhabitants, as though he had been a resident of the section for ears. And then, after he had extracted all the in- | formation possible, he gradually, as if by acci- | pa fe made the captain acquainted with him- | self. That is, he gave the captain to understand that his name was und Keene, and he was the boy who, until he was ten years old, had re- sided just outside of the town of Corpus Christi, on the San Diego road, under the protecting wing of General Joe Yellowbird. The fact that the two lawyers lived on a ranch just outside of the town, he had ascertained from the skipper when he bad begun his course of scientific pumping. ‘Well, now, you don’t tell me!” the honest sailor exclaimed, seizing the young man’s hand and giving it a hearty shake. ‘““Why, Lord love you! [ve seen you more | times when you were a kid than I’ve got fingers | and toes. | ‘“ And I sed to myself, sed J, the moment you | come aboard the schooner at Galveston, ‘It ‘pears to me I’ve seen the figure-head of that | craft somewhar afore.’ | ‘* But how you have grown—it’s nigh onto ten or twelve years, though, ain’t it, since you went | North for to git a schooling?” ‘* About fifteen.” **Dash my eyes if it ain’t so! How time does fly, anyway. Say, I heerd it allowed by some of the boys that you had studied for to bea | play-acting chap, and was making a heap of money out of the biz, is that so?” ‘Well, I have become an actor, but I can’t | say with truth that 1 have acquired a fortune in the business.” | | ** Mebbe you'll strike it rich sometime.” The prompt recognition of the old sailor pleased the adventurer, for it seemed like a good omen for the success of his plans. There was something of a general likeness be- tween himself and the man whom he was coun- terfeiting, and as no one in Corpus Christi bad seen Keene since he was a boy of ten, 1t was not likely that the imposture would be detected if the game was skillfully played, for the resem- — = ’ | r ad J , 2 th {7 ** ’ m5 > a Ww ¢ 4 ' a ‘ * . ~ S| 2 Ly 3 — _ Ne blance between a ten-year-old lad and a man of twenty-five must be slight. When Roe landed at Corpus Christi he found that the old lawyer was absent, and he did not return for a week. In the interim the first copies of the New York dailies came to band. One of them in the theatrical intelligence con- tained a brief item, stating that the popular young actor, Edmund Keene, who had made himself so great a favorite with the Old Bowery audiences, had suddenly quitted the cheater, leaving the manager in the lurch with scarce an hour’s notice, and that there had been great trouble in finaing some one to assume his part that evening so that the performance could be | given. That was all, and not one of the jeurnals con- tained any reference to anybody being found on _ the Hudson River Railroad track, ‘* My false letters were a success, evidently, and have completely baffled investigation,” the edventurer mused, ‘* But what on earth became of the body? That is a mystery that may bave in it ugly consequences for me.” CHAPTER XXV, GOOD ADVICE. AND now we must retrace ouy steps a little and detail some particulsrs which transpired in the metropolis and which have an important bearing on our story. The forged note did not reach the hands of the manager until almost seven o’clock in the evening, and, as a natural consequence, he was furious, Keene had two important parts to play that evening, and the enterprising Buster, the vet- eran stage-manager, wes put to his trumps to _ get a couple of actors able to supply the place of the missing man. The first thing the stage-director did was to hurry down to the actor’s boarding-house, ex- pecting to find Keene, and he was prepared to threaten the artist with all sorts of legal conse- uences if he did not come to the theater and ulfill his duties as per agreement, But he did not find Keene, and the only bit of information he could succeed in obtaining in regard to the missing man, was from the boarding-house-keeper, who produced the letter, which she never for an instant suspected was not written by Keene, and this convinced Bus- ter that the actor had departed, and by the quickness of his movements bad succeeded in lacing himself beyond the pale of New York aw, On his return to the theater with the substi- tute actors whom he had succeeded in hunting 5 Buster learned of the letter addressed to iss Estelle by the young actor, for tae people in the box-office had recognized tie hand- we of the missing man. The Jady was at once waited upon and be- sought to give information if it was in her power. But her letter was to the same purportas the others, as she stated that all it said was he was going away, called by important business, She did not reveal to the questioners though, that the writer had given an address and re- uested that she should send a line to him there. That was a private matter, and she did not think it was necessary to make it public. Judge Andy, when he heard the particulars of the affair, remarked that it was a bad thing for the theater, for the young actor had become a great favorite, and it would be extremely diffi- cult to find a man to replace him without giving an exorbitant salary, but at the same time, he said in conclusion: ~ co itisa bad thing for the theater, and I would rather have given a hundred dol- lars t an have it happen, yet personally J am not sorry that the fellow is out of the way.” This remark was made in the man‘ger’s private box during one of the intermissions of the performance, and the same parties were present whom we introduced to the rader’s notice in the opening chapters of our story, namely: Judge Andy, the great m , his satellite, the weasel-like Mike O’Lynch, the learned. though eccentric limb of the law, ‘ Corny” McCracken, and the manager, Billy bigh. ‘“T don’t exactly understand you,’ Freehigh remarked, always dull of comprebenson, “Why, lL am afraid that the fellov will turn out to a dangerous rival,” the judge ex- plained. a “A rival? asked the manager, still in the ark. ‘* Yes: how thick-headed you aresometimes!” Judge Andy exclaimed, impatienly. ‘‘ Don’t you understand that I am afte: this pret actress—this Estelle—and, so fa’, I haven pe able to make the slightest inpression upon er? ‘‘T haven’t been able to induc: her to go out to supper, or, in fact, to accept the slightest favor at my bands. i ‘“‘ Now, as far asl can see, thi or explan- ation of the riddle is there is sone other fellow in the way whom she prefers to ne.” a er bay ens se Wings Ry AX