Beadle's Dime Library No. 509 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

ieee! > te “> 10 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt ' causing him to restrain his impatience to be | handed him back the glass, and wiped her lips, te) gone, | after drawing a long, sighing breath, ‘“ ‘* Ah, Ihad forgotten. Truly, Mrs. Godlove, ; has been tumbling your peatty bair for you?” those singing classes were agreeable. You used ‘* What do you mean?” he demanded angrily, to wish that you could subject your magnificent | and once more resuming his moody, not to say contralto voice and characteristic piano-playing | truculent attitude, after summarily disposing of to proper instruction.” the glassware. “Yes.” ** You needn’t be cross, you charming young ** Well, I am reminded of a lady in Yonkers— | bear, you!” airily, ‘‘ But if I really thought the a superb musician and instructress, I haven’ta | antediluvian Godlove had been patting your doubt—who might give you lessons to advan- | cheeks this morning, I’d break every bone in tage.” | her ridiculous body. The matches are at your ‘A young lady?” elbow, I believe.” Anda fresh cigarette began ** Weli—ur—you’d scarcely call her old—say | to evolute from the ends of her pretty fingers. twenty or twenty-one, you know.” ‘* Why do you continue in the country here?” “Oh!” A little freezingly. abruptly demanded the young man, with an ‘‘ An old friend, perbaps a sort of distant re- | almost brutal indifference to what she had said, lation of mine, you see.” How glibly the way- | though condescending to tossa match in her ward fellow bad come to misrepresent and pre- | lap. ‘‘I shouid think you would find it infer- varicate! ‘‘ You see, in spite of her splendid at- | nally inconvenient.” ; tainments, she has never had much experience : She lighted her cigarette composedly, and then in transmitting them to others,” he goes on | fastened her superb eyes upon him with a curi- easily. ‘* Now [li make a proposition to you, | ous look. my dear friend. You engage lessons of her ; when she comes, at her own price, leaving me to reimburse you for the payments—but in strict secrecy, mind you, without permitting the re- | motest suspicion on her part. Understand, my | sbe murmured. dear, sweet Mrs. Godlove? The only thing [I | shall quit the country for New shall stipulate for from you will be that you in- | your pleasure.” troduce her to your lady guests and friends, He returned her look with steady and angry with such recommendations as she shall prove | interest, herself worthy of. That will be asort of starter ‘* We, indeed!” he sneered. in business for her, See?” ** Just what I said, my dear. *“*Oh, yes, I see!” With renewed sadness and | it right.” no little suspicion. Mayfield struck with his open palm a small ‘* Well, what do you say to it?” table, on which he had set the bottles and glass, Mrs. Godlove took his hand in both of hers, | till they rattled and jumped. and somewhat tearfully pressed it. ‘Therese, there must be an end of this at ‘*Her name, Mr. Mayfield?’ she murmured. | once—now, from this time forth!” be exclaimed, ‘“*The lady’s, the young lady’s name and ad- | decisively. dress?” | “6 An end of what, you dear, darling young ‘* Miss Retta Merrivale; never mind the | donkey?” And she began to laugh immoderate- address, which is simply ‘ Yonkers’ for the pres- | ly. ‘* Don’t be enigmatical, and I will fondle ent; I will see that she visits you at an early | your ears, like another Titania.” lay.” ‘* You know what I mean perfectly well. If not for your own sake, for mine at least, you should be generous enough to make your home elsewhere—any where out of this house.” CHAPTER XIV. THERESE IS PROVOKING. ‘‘ Ana! you should think that, should you?” ‘**Come, then, cher amt, we York quarters at You have got “Thank you, Harvey!” with trembling but proud humility. ‘* You wish it; then I shall see | Miss Merrivale. I shall try to be not ungrate- ful on her account, nor—anything else. What | ‘* You don’t say it, cher ami?” should it matter to a faded old woman like me?’ ‘*] shall no longer tacitly give color to the (with streaming eyes, and temptingly red lips, | false position in which you insist on placing me like sundered ripe roses, quivering to be kissed) | before the other boarders here—before the whole ‘‘even—even if yet another young beauty be | village, for that matter. I sha’n’t stand it rushed across the stage-boards of your heart?” longer! There’s got to be an end!” And, with a parting pressure of the coveted “* Diable! And what false position do I put hand, the emotional landlady floated back dis- | you in, mon pauwvre petit?” consolately to her coffee-tray, ** Don’t pretend you don’t know—it won’t avail ‘*Old Falcon again bere, and last night of all | you! The false position of persistently making others:” muttered Mayfield, Ee YP the | me appear what I am not, have never been, and stairs three steps ata time. ‘* This must he looked | never would be—in relation to the most fascinat- to. Expedition and caution are the cue.” ing woman that ever lived!” And his cheeks But he only re-entered his room, with the in- med. * What might that: be?” tention of hurrying off with his money to the city banks without a moment of unnecessary ** As your good companion—your lover! But delay, to be confronted by a fresh and yet more | of what avail for you to pretend an ignorance trying interruption. of my meaning? You must know of the im- A pression that has been created.” la bonne heure, cher ami—lheure du berger !”—[‘* Well and good, darling friend—at ‘* What of that?’ And she laughed again snap- ping her fingers. love’s own hour!”] called a musical voice—dis- “What of it?’ he echoed, furiously; ‘* when cordantly unwelcome at that moment, however —accompanied by a lazy puff of cigarette wo know the injustice of it, to me at least. our lover! your—something which you know that, asa man of principle, I never have been, and never would be.” ‘*‘ Don’t think that I am doubting your virtue, Monsier Prudehomme!” with unmeasured os tempt, and yet not without a furtive and de- vouring glance for his manly beauty. In France they might call you a jocrisse,in England—a a, But Mayfield was at last keeping his temper well in hand. ; ‘‘ Madame, I am about making a visit to the city,” he said, politely. ‘‘ Will you kindly vouchsafe me the privacy of my own room?” ‘“*Not yet, cher Harvee. So!—let me see, You would gladly have me disassociated from you forthwith, eh?” ** It would be as well, ma’m.” ‘* That the ancient Godlove may have youall smoke, La Travadeuse, of course. She still main- tained her country residence, though giving nightly performances in the metroplis; coming and going with charming disregard of house rules and social conventionalities; and not in- frequently taking possession of her handsome neighbor’s room and best chair, as on the pres- ent occasion; though it was true that her curl- papers and negligee were a trifle more pro- nounced than usual just now. Mayfield, thoroughly exasperated, barely con- strained himself to bow politely, and then, fling- ing his hat into a corner, be plumped into a chair, stretched out his shapely legs, rammed his hands into his pockets, an ents reseptfully at the lovely intruder, with at a wary weather eye upon the writing-table closet, or compartment, in which he had placed his money-stuffed grip- sack under lock and key. to herself?” She only looked over at him, and laughed in * I decline to answer an insinuation that is an her light, reckless way. insult to a good woman.” “*Bad boy! to be out of your own sweet little | ‘“*Ah! Well,” with a searching look, ‘ that room and bed all night,” she commented you may uninterruptedly hunt up the treasure revealed to you by my convict progenitor, then? “You cannot,” coolly, ‘‘ believe in the ex- istence of such treasure any more than I. She smiled. ** How sad! This sudden coolness on your part, mon ami—” ‘Tt is not so sudden, as you well know,” he interrupted. ‘‘I have from the very first pro- tested, either impliedly or otherwise, against the—the bonne camaraderie that you have so persistently endeavored to force upon me, You will not attempt to deny it, Therese.” She flushed, but did not lose her somewhat dangerous smile, x *T was about to say that this rupture is unfortunate for me, as I was about to ask a little favor of you, my dear. However, I shall ex- press my desire.” ; “Do so,” with a quick breath of relief, as here, ‘* However, I shouldn’t complain, mon ami. There was a small ocean of champagne after the performance last night, and I almost missed the up-train. That puts me in mind that I am dreadfully thirsty, Harvee. You will find my refreshener in the same place, my dear.” And she tossed him a small key. Shrugging his shoulders, he passed, without a word, around into the adjoining room (her own,) whence he quickly returned with a large tum- bler full of cracked ice, a decanter half filled with brandy and a bottle of English soda-water. “Say when,” he curtly enjoined, tilting out a generous dose of the spirits into the glass, which she had taken into her hand, She motioned back the decanter with a little gesture of mock-horror, and then nodded gayly. Pop went the soda, and the conventional Band S was a fait accompli, . “* Cher ami, you are simply a darling!” She 4 b- iy 4 wesh> ges eh Pata Neg Ri se Detective. seemingly, was a prospect of getting rid of her. ‘* What can 1 do for you, Therese.” ‘‘ A mere trifle! I want you to lend me a thousand dollars.” He looked at her aghast, but ory, recover- ed on seeing that she was watc i ca ing him likea t. ** You do, indeed, trifle,” was his cold reply. ‘‘For I have never made any secret of my poverty to you.” : She snapped her fingers. ‘*Pish! Yon were out all night treasure-seek- ing. Come, cher ami, I sha’n’t go to law with you over the legacy; but a tenth or twentieth of your first baul isnot such an immense demand for my share.” She had surmised cleverly, but Mayfield was not so foolish as to step into the cunning trap. He arose, with a hard smile on his face, and an unmistakable air. ‘* Madame Bertrande, you have not yet break- fasted,” he said, freezingly. ‘‘Good solid food, without anything more to drink on an empt stomach, may tone up this flightiness, which deeply regret.” “Maman!” called out a sleepy little voice from the adjoining room; ‘“‘est ce que tu a dejeune ?”—{*‘ Have you breakfasted yet?”] ‘“There!” he went on, with mock jocularity; ‘even your little grasshopper is hungry, if you are not, ma belle,’ ‘‘Suppose you really bad made the coup I suggested, monsieur, would you oblige me with the bagatelle I am in need of?” ‘* Ah, we are now in suppositions?” ve Yes,” ** Well, even were I rich, my friend, my gen- eral determination would be unaltered.” ** And what would that be?” ** Millions at the beck of deserving friendship, not one sou to blackmail!” She sprung to her feet in an access of fury, that intensified her voluptuous beauty to that degree as almost made him regret the rupture. * Fool! iceberg! handsome idiot!” she hissed between her teeth; ‘‘do not think to deceive me as to that money. It was at my miserable father’s hands that you received the hequest, and I shall have my share, my full share!” He bowed ironically. *“*The whole—all of it—if it exists, and you can getit!” be smilingly replied. She cast off her anger, as a garment, and, running up to him, threw her arms about his neck, ‘“You foolish boy!” she murmured, kissing him effusively; ‘‘to imagine that it is for money, for aught but your own darling self, that I care? But don’t send me away alto- ether. I sha’n’t annoy yp any more: [ shall ob, so very demure and discreet, if you will only love me a little.” And she trip out of his presence, throwing him kisses and melting looks as she disappeared. But the mercenary depths of the woman’s false and dangerous nature had been sufficiently revealed to complete whatever disenchantment the young man had needed, and that was not over-much, Without further delay he snatched h‘s hat and grip-sack and hurried away to the railroad station; with the detective’s image once more in his. mind, and filled with the cread of a yet more serious interruption. But none occurred, and two hours later, in New York, he experienced the first real sensa- tion of relief since quitting the biding-place of the ill-gotten treasure. He had opened accounts in two sterling Na- tional banks, with thirteen thousand dollars to his credit in each. He bad only retained a trifle over four thou- sand dollars for immediate casual and personal nses, from which it will be seen that he was not absolutely intent upon a life of anchoretical self-denial or philosopbical frugality. But neither must it be imagined that unwont- ed prodigality was to be feared as a weakness in our fortunate young friend, Directly after making his last deposit, he was met by a whilom intimate acquaintance, greatly down in his luck, who, encouraged by the other’s smiling content, rather humbly requested assist- ance to the extent of twenty dollars. ‘‘But, my dear fellow! do you take me for a millionaire?’ exclaimed ayfield, aghast. ‘‘ Twenty dollars—a fortune in itself! What’s your prime misfortune, anyway?” There was more than cne, it seemed. The poor devil had lost bis regular employment. Then his wife bad died. He was now living in a Bowery lodging-house, mostly drinking more than was good for him when not looking for work, He was feeling especially nervous and broken up to-day. “Oh, you want a good, stiff pull-me-together, that is all!” cries Mayfield, slapping bim on the back. ‘1 can spare you this much—always ready to help a distressed old friend to the ex- tent of my means, you know—and, if I can as- sist you to fresh employment, don’t neglect to let me know.” And he jauntily continues on his way, after leaving the princely sum of a whole, large, round balf-dollar in the poor fellow’s trembling bonds. After a splendid lunch at the lower Del > ee eee —- comicbooks