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+Project Gutenberg's Five Thousand Dollars Reward, by Frank Pinkerton
+#3 in our series by Frank Pinkerton
+
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+Title: Five Thousand Dollars Reward
+
+Author: Frank Pinkerton
+
+Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9409]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on September 30, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Robert Shimmin
+and PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: The non-standard spellings of the original text
+have been retained in this etext.]
+
+[Illustration: "I ARREST YOU FOR THE MURDER OF VICTORIA VANE."]
+
+
+
+
+
+                      FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD
+
+
+
+                           BY FRANK PINKERTON
+
+                                  1886
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+                               THE TRAMP.
+
+
+"Will you give me a glass of water, please?"
+
+A ragged, bearded tramp stood before the door of a cottage near the
+outskirts of a country village, and propounded this question to a pretty
+girl who stood in the door.
+
+"In a moment."
+
+The girl disappeared, soon returning with a pitcher.
+
+She went to the pump near, and soon had the pitcher running over with
+sparkling water.
+
+"I will bring a cup."
+
+"Needn't mind."
+
+The tramp lifted the pitcher and quaffed the water as though he enjoyed
+it.
+
+His eyes were not pleasant as he turned them keenly on the pretty face of
+the girl.
+
+"Folks at home?"
+
+"No."
+
+"All alone, eh?"
+
+"Yes; but Ransom will be around soon--my brother."
+
+The eyes of the tramp glittered. He seemed to delight in reading the
+fresh young face before him.
+
+"Nobody at home, eh?" he grunted. "Mebbe I'd better go in and rest a bit.
+Any objections?"
+
+"Yes. If you are hungry I'll bring you food out here."
+
+It was a pleasant day, and the sun was warm without being hot, a rare
+enjoyable day in June.
+
+It seemed to the girl that there could be no excuse for a stout man like
+the one before her tramping and begging through the country.
+
+"Why do you not work?" she said.
+
+"I wasn't born that way," and he chuckled unpleasantly.
+
+The girl hurried into the house.
+
+His Trampship followed.
+
+She was not a little alarmed at finding the ill-looking fellow close at
+her heels. She feared and dared not anger him.
+
+Placing a chair at a table, she bade him be seated, and then she hastened
+to set before him bread, milk and cold meat.
+
+"The best the house affords, eh?" he chuckled, as he sat up to the
+repast. "The very best."
+
+"And it's good enough for a king."
+
+Then he fell to and ate ravenously.
+
+The girl walked to the door and gazed uneasily down the road.
+
+"Brother comin'?"
+
+"I do not see him."
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+The tramp was inquisitive.
+
+"Vane."
+
+"Eh? Is that a fact?"
+
+The stout fellow started and regarded the girl fixedly.
+
+"Is the name a familiar one?" questioned the girl after a moment, anxious
+to conciliate the man. Her nearest neighbor was at least a quarter mile
+distant, and the house was concealed by a clump of trees, so that the
+girl felt that she was at the mercy of this burly, ill-looking stranger,
+should he attempt violence.
+
+"Vane, Vane," he muttered. "Reckon I've heard the name before. And you're
+Victory, I reckon?"
+
+"Victoria."
+
+"Exactly. Sister to Rance Vane. I know'd that chap onct, and I found him
+not a man, but a scamp. I never liked the Vanes, father'n son. The old
+man's dead, I s'pose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How long sense?"
+
+"More than a year."
+
+"Good 'nough. He wa'nt o' much account."
+
+The tramp's eyes seemed to become suddenly bloodshot. He shoved from the
+table, and rose to his feet.
+
+The girl hoped to see him go, but he made no move to do so.
+
+"You live alone with your brother?" he queried, suddenly.
+
+"Most of the time."
+
+"Victory, did ye ever hear Rance speak of Perry Jounce?"
+
+The man leered at her in a way that sent a chill over her.
+
+"Never."
+
+"No? Wal, he didn't like me. I reckin I'll hev a kiss afore I go,
+anyhow."
+
+He began to move toward her. She started to escape through the open door,
+but was not quick enough. The man's hand grasped her arm and she felt
+herself drawn toward him.
+
+Then Victoria Vane uttered a piercing scream.
+
+"Stop that yellin', you fool!" hissed the tramp. He drew her to him and
+bent to press his bearded lips to her cheek.
+
+On the instant another person appeared upon the scene.
+
+A bunch of bones collided with the bull neck of the tramp, sending him
+reeling across the floor.
+
+Victoria darted to the arms of the new-comer, a young man, tall, slender
+and of prepossessing appearance, clad in hunter's costume.
+
+"Oh, August, save me!" screamed the girl.
+
+"Scoundrel!" cried the young hunter, presenting a rifle at the breast of
+the tramp. "What do you mean by this assault on a lady?"
+
+There was a horrible expression in the eyes of the tramp, and on the
+instant he slipped from concealment a large knife to his hand.
+
+"Stand aside, Miss Vane," the hunter said to the girl. "I will learn this
+scoundrel a lesson."
+
+Victoria obeyed, standing back against the wall, pale and frightened,
+while the last comer confronted the burly tramp with his rifle cocked for
+instant use.
+
+"Let me go out, August Bordine."
+
+So the tramp seemed to recognize the youthful hunter.
+
+"I ought to turn you over to the authorities for punishment," declared
+the young man, sternly.
+
+"'T won't do you no good," grunted the tramp, "I hain't done nothing."
+
+"I will leave it to Miss Vane."
+
+Then he glanced at the girl.
+
+The tramp began to glide toward the door.
+
+"Stop!" thundered August Bordine. Then to the girl, "Miss Vane, I await
+your decision."
+
+"Permit him to go then. I wish no further trouble," said Victoria.
+
+"But he really ought to be punished. He certainly deserves ninety days in
+prison at the least," declared the young hunter.
+
+"Let me go, Miss, I didn't mean nothin' wrong," whined the man who had
+called himself Perry Jounce.
+
+"Let him go," said Victoria.
+
+The hunter lowered his gun and the tramp passed into the outer air. He
+hurriedly left the vicinity, but before he had passed from sight, he
+turned his face toward the cottage, and shook a chinched hand toward the
+open door in which stood two forms--Victoria and August Bordine.
+
+"Curse you, August Bordine!" hissed the coarse lips. "I'll make you
+repent this interference, I swear I will. You shall swing some day, and
+I'll be there to hear your neck crack!"
+
+Then he turned about and disappeared in a clump of trees beside the road.
+
+Victoria Vane and the young hunter were near enough to notice the
+movement of the baffled tramp, but neither heard his vindictive words. It
+might have been well for them had they done so.
+
+Victoria clung to the young hunter's arm after the departure of Jounce,
+and seemed a long time in recovering from her fright.
+
+"There's no further danger," declared Bordine, "so just calm your fears.
+I will remain until your brother returns."
+
+"You are very kind, August."
+
+After a little the young man quietly disengaged her hands from his arm
+and led her to a seat.
+
+"There, rest yourself, Victoria, while I look about the premises."
+
+He snatched his gun and moved toward the door.
+
+"Don't leave me, August."
+
+"There is not the least danger now. That tramp will not return."
+
+"He may."
+
+"I will not be far away. If you were so fearful why did you not permit me
+to take him to prison?"
+
+"I don't know. I did not wish to appear against him, I suppose."
+
+August Bordine smiled at the look that came to the face of the girl.
+
+He had known Victoria Vane and her brother for several months. He was
+never prepossessed in favor of her brother, and he often thought her
+"soft," to use a vulgar expression.
+
+"I do believe the girl would make love to me if I would permit it, by
+giving her the least encouragement. The Vanes are queer and no mistake,"
+remarked Bordine, to a young lady of his acquaintance, living in an
+adjoining town.
+
+Rose Alstine was plain and sensible, and took no offense at her lover's
+referring to Miss Vane. Why should she? She knew that genial August
+Bordine was true as steel and generous and sympathetic to a fault.
+
+Trouble was coming, however, that was to try the young girl's faith as it
+had never been tried before.
+
+Back of Ridgewood village was a forest of large extent, bordering on a
+narrow stream. This woods was owned by an Eastern capitalist and he had
+as yet permitted no woodman's ax to resound in its depths.
+
+Game abounded, and the woods was the frequent resort for amateur hunters,
+among them the young civil engineer, August Bordine.
+
+It was his frequent visits to Eastman's woods with gun and game-bag that
+brought him in frequent contact with the Vanes, and especially Victoria,
+who, during the short space of a few months, had become violently smitten
+with the handsome face and gentlemanly bearing of the young engineer.
+
+It was this fact that determined Bordine to shorten his stay at the
+cottage on the day in question.
+
+"There isn't the least danger," assured August, as he lifted his gun to
+the hollow of his arm and prepared to depart from the Vane cottage.
+
+"Then you will not stay?"
+
+Tears actually stood in the blue eyes of Miss Vane.
+
+"Good gracious! Vic, what a baby," and he laughed aloud.
+
+He stepped to her side, however, and as her face pale, pretty, even
+though babyish, was upturned to his he could not resist the temptation,
+and he bent and kissed her full upon the pouting lips.
+
+Then a pair of soft arms were wound quickly about his neck, and a voice
+whispered softly:
+
+"Why can't you stay with me always, August?"
+
+He tore himself loose instantly, a guilty feeling entering his heart. He
+was acting the hypocrite with a vengeance, and it did not agree with his
+honorable nature.
+
+"Confound it, Miss Vane, what a tease you are. There comes your brother
+now, and I must away."
+
+"You will call when you return from your hunt?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+He then passed outside.
+
+A single horseman was riding slowly down the forest road toward the
+village.
+
+He must needs pass the cottage.
+
+August Bordine had called the traveler Victoria's brother. He saw his
+mistake as he passed out, but did not deem it necessary to rectify it.
+
+He swung his rifle to his shoulder, and moved, with a long stride, toward
+the nearest point of woods.
+
+Vaulting a fence, he crossed a bit of clearing and entered a clump of
+trees.
+
+Here he paused and looked back.
+
+The strange horseman had halted at the cottage, and was conversing with
+Victoria.
+
+Bordine saw him lift his hat politely, and knew that it was no tramp this
+time who craved favor at the cottage.
+
+"I don't think the girl will require my presence this time," muttered the
+young engineer.
+
+She did, however, as the sequel proved.
+
+Bordine, whistling softly, turned away and plunged deeply into the
+forest.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II.
+
+                                 MURDER.
+
+
+For several hours August Bordine scoured the woods in search of game. His
+hunt proved unsuccessful, however, and with weary limbs and anything but
+pleasant mood he retraced his steps.
+
+At length he stood in the road within sight of the Vane cottage.
+
+Everything looked quiet and peaceful about the place.
+
+No smoke curled up from the kitchen chimney, although the sun was low in
+the western heavens.
+
+"Vic hasn't begun to prepare supper it seems," muttered Bordine. "Wonder
+if I had best go up that way and call. Of course Ransom has returned. I
+believe I will and inquire who the gentleman was who called just as I was
+entering the woods."
+
+And so Bordine turned his steps in the direction of the Vane cottage. The
+front door was closed, and a dead silence reigned over the place as he
+came up.
+
+"Wonder if the folks are gone."
+
+Bordine rapped.
+
+No answer was vouchsafed.
+
+He rapped again.
+
+Silence profound as the grave.
+
+"Well, there seems nobody at home. Vic sometimes occupies the back porch
+with the cat and her book; I will see."
+
+He walks swiftly around the house.
+
+He came to a sudden stand as he gained the broad side porch of the
+cottage.
+
+He stood staring, struck dumb with an awful, deadly fear. Then he moved
+forward a step.
+
+His eye fell on the interior of the porch, and he started and stopped.
+
+What was it that held his steps?
+
+[Illustration: HIS EYE FELL ON THE INTERIOR OF THE PORCH, AND HE STARTED
+AND STOPPED.]
+
+An object on the ground--Victoria Vane, lying at full length, with open,
+staring eyes, her masses of yellow hair stained a horrible crimson.
+
+She lay within the porch, while at her side was a basket overturned, its
+contents scattered about, as though she had been holding it in her lap at
+the time of the accident.
+
+Was it an accident?
+
+As soon as he could recover his self-possession, August Bordine sat down
+his gun and bent over the prostrate girl.
+
+There was a subdued horror in his eyes as he gazed.
+
+Blood had trickled out in a little pool from a wound in her neck, that
+wound had proved the death of poor Victoria Vane.
+
+Who had made it?
+
+Suicide!
+
+This was the young man's first thought--yet he soon convinced himself
+that this was not likely.
+
+A letter, torn and blood-stained, lay near. August picked it from the
+ground and examined it. It proved to be from a gentleman, and was written
+in a friendly, not to say lover-like strain. At the bottom was signed a
+name, "A. Bor----"
+
+The latter part of the name was completely obliterated by a blot of
+blood.
+
+While the young engineer stood in an attitude of shocked irresolution, a
+step sounded on the gravel behind him.
+
+He turned to look into the face of a young man whose countenance showed
+resemblance to the dead girl.
+
+"My God! what is this?"
+
+The new-comer darted forward, gazed for a moment into the dead face of
+poor Victoria, then staggered back, clutching the arm of August Bordine
+to save himself from falling.
+
+"Suicide, I fear," answered Bordine for lack of words.
+
+"Suicide! My soul, is Victoria dead?"
+
+Then the last comer knelt down beside the prostrate girl, and lifted her
+golden head to his knee.
+
+His cries and moans were heartrending.
+
+In vain Bordine tried to soothe the young man, but he found that a
+brother's grief was beyond assuagement.
+
+For many minutes Ransom Vane sat and moaned and wept beside his dead
+sister.
+
+Then he became calm suddenly, and sprang to his feet, glancing about him
+in a way that caused Bordine to fear for his reason.
+
+"Suicide you said?" turning fiercely upon August Bordine.
+
+"I said it might be."
+
+"It is not. Vic was happy; why should she take her own life?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"She was murdered."
+
+"It may be so."
+
+"You know it is. Look! See where the steel of the assassin entered her
+poor neck, and cut to the life. Oh, Vic, my poor darling! you shall be
+avenged. I will go to the ends of the earth but I will find your slayer
+and have his life."
+
+Ransom Vane was white as death, and trembled like a leaf.
+
+"I will go for a doctor," said Bordine.
+
+"A doctor? See the life-blood there. Think you a doctor can be of
+service?" groaned the young brother.
+
+"No, but it is customary in such cases, and the coroner must be
+notified."
+
+August Bordine turned to depart.
+
+"Stop!"
+
+Ransom Vane laid a detaining hand on the arm of the young engineer.
+
+"See; what is that?"
+
+It proved to be a spot of blood on the hand and sleeve of the young
+engineer's shirt, a point of which peered below his outer sleeve.
+
+"It came from this," explained August, holding out the letter.
+
+"Where did you get that?"
+
+Vane took the stained and torn letter from the hand of Bordine.
+
+"I found it on the porch."
+
+Ransom Vane read the note hurriedly.
+
+
+"MY DEAR:--Expect me on the 10th of June. I have been anxious to
+see you for a long time, dear girl, and I know you will forgive me
+when you hear what I have to say. If you cannot, then we must part
+forever, unless--but I will tell you more when I see you. Till then,
+good by, dear.
+
+                                     "Your faithful
+
+                                     "A. BOR----"
+
+
+Quickly Ransom Vane turned upon the man before him, casting a fierce look
+into his face.
+
+"This letter is yours--"
+
+"No; you may keep it," answered Bordine quickly. "It may lead to some
+clew."
+
+"But I say the letter is yours. You wrote it."
+
+"Certainly not." "But see here;" and Vane pointed to the mutilated
+signature.
+
+Bordine started when he saw how closely the name resembled his own.
+
+"Do you deny that you wrote that?" demanded Ransom Vane, fiercely.
+
+"Certainly; I did not write it."
+
+"By heaven, you did, and it is _you_ who murdered my sister!" hissed
+young Vane, trembling with the maddest emotions that ever whelmed a human
+breast.
+
+"Vane clutched the arm of young Bordine, and glared furiously into his
+face.
+
+"Calm yourself, my dear Ransom," urged the engineer. "You are beside
+yourself now. I had no quarrel with Victoria. In fact, we were the best
+of friends, and I parted from her this morning on the best of terms. I--"
+
+"But this letter?" demanded Vane, fiercely.
+
+"I know no more about it than you do, Ransom. I found it there on the
+porch."
+
+"But it is yours?--you wrote it?"
+
+"No; a thousand times no," articulated August Bordine, in a convincing
+tone.
+
+Ransom Vane groaned and reeled against a post, the letter falling from
+his nerveless hand to the ground.
+
+For some moments not a word passed between the two. Both were evidently
+thinking.
+
+The thoughts of Bordine were not pleasant ones. He remembered the tramp
+who had that morning made himself so disagreeable to Victoria. It must be
+that he was the author of this horrible crime.
+
+Another figure too came up before the vision of the young engineer, the
+man on horseback who sat with lifted hat, bowing to Victoria Vane, just
+as he (Bordine) entered the woods.
+
+One of these men had committed the deed. Which one? Most likely the
+tramp.
+
+Such were the thoughts that passed through the brain of August in the
+five minutes that he stood silently regarding vacancy.
+
+"August."
+
+The voice of the sorrowing brother fell sadly on the ear of the engineer.
+
+"Well, Ransom."
+
+"Assist me to carry poor Vic--"
+
+He could go no further, but moved with tear-dimmed eyes toward the dead.
+
+August bent to the work without further speech, and assisted the brother
+to move the body into the house to the pleasant front bed-room, the
+especial resort of the poor girl in life. Here they placed her on the
+low, neatly-covered bed, and then Bordine turned away, leaving brother
+and sister in solemn, silent companionship.
+
+That was the saddest moment of August Bordine's life.
+
+Not even when his own sister died six years before had he felt the solemn
+weight of sadness more deeply. Victoria had been his friend. She was not
+over-bright, yet she was kind and tender of heart. He felt her death
+deeply, and found himself wondering who could have been so wicked as to
+murder a pretty girl, who he believed, had not an enemy in the wide
+world.
+
+There was something of mystery about the affair.
+
+Once outside Bordine examined the ground closely. He saw nothing of the
+letter, and was about to move away, when a shadow fell athwart the grass
+giving him a sudden start.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+                             ALL A MYSTERY.
+
+
+"I beg your pardon, but does Mr. Vane live here?"
+
+A man of small stature, smooth face and the keenest eyes Bordine had ever
+seen in human head, stood before him. He lifted a broad-brimmed straw hat
+and fanned himself as though heated, although the air was quite cool for
+the season.
+
+"Do you mean Ransom Vane?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"He lives here."
+
+"Very good--"
+
+"But, sir," interrupted Bordine, "he is in no mood to receive visitors
+now."
+
+"Indeed?"
+
+"A terrible thing has happened."
+
+Then glancing down, the small stranger caught sight of the blood. He did
+not shrink, but an interested look at once came to his face.
+
+"A tragedy?" he questioned, quickly.
+
+"Yes. Victoria Vane is dead."
+
+"How?"
+
+"It seems to be either murder or suicide."
+
+"This is bad. When did it happen?"
+
+"Some time to-day."
+
+"No witnesses to the deed?"
+
+"None who have yet appeared."
+
+Just then Ransom Vane appeared on the porch. The moment his gaze rested
+on the face of the new-comer he uttered a glad cry and extended his hand.
+
+"Of all men in the world you are the one I most desire to see," exclaimed
+Vane. Then he turned to Bordine. "Mr. Bordine, this is my old friend from
+Newport, Silas Keene. You may have heard me mention his name."
+
+"Yes. I have read of him as well. I am happy to clasp the hand of the
+most noted detective of Gotham."
+
+This was no flattery.
+
+Silas Keene was not a secondary man. He was first in everything
+pertaining to matters criminal. He had traced down more crime perhaps
+than any man of his age in Gotham, and he was verging on forty.
+
+It was opportune indeed, the great detective coming at this time.
+
+Ransom Vane had known the man for years, and the twain had been bosom
+friends.
+
+"I cannot remain with you, Ransom," said Bordine, "but I will come again
+soon. If you require any help from me, you know, you have only to call on
+me."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+A minute later the man in hunter's costume had disappeared.
+
+Sile Keene went in to look at the dead girl, then he examined the ground
+closely, the porch, the letters, and finally investigated the extent and
+shape of the death-wound.
+
+It proved to be narrow but deep, evidently made with a dirk or blade with
+two edges.
+
+Then, after the house was searched and it was discovered that a bureau
+had been rifled of several hundred dollars left there by Ransom, the
+young cottager placed the torn, blood-stained letter he had found in
+Bordines' possession, in the hand of the detective.
+
+"Where did you get this?" questioned Keene, after he had read the short
+epistle.
+
+"It was found near my poor sister, on the porch."
+
+"You found it?"
+
+"No, Bordine."
+
+"By the way, who made the discovery of the tragedy first?"
+
+"Mr. Bordine. He was standing over Victoria, with this letter in his
+hand, when I arrived."
+
+"He is your friend?"
+
+"Well, yes, I have supposed him to be."
+
+"What is his full name?"
+
+"August Bordine."
+
+The detective glanced at the letter, then gave vent to a low whistle.
+This was natural with him at times, especially when he had made a
+gratifying discovery.
+
+"Now you must be frank with me," proceeded Keene. "Tell me truly, what
+relation this man, Bordine, bore to your sister."
+
+"They were friends."
+
+"Nothing more?"
+
+Detective Keene eyed his companion sharply.
+
+"Well, I suppose it possible that they might have enjoyed a nearer
+relation had Victoria lived," said Ransom Vane in an unsteady voice.
+
+"You think they were lovers?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How did he seem to take this tragedy?"
+
+"I cannot tell, I don't think he was unduly agitated, however."
+
+"Hum."
+
+Then the detective fell to thinking deeply. He folded the note carefully,
+and placed it in an inner pocket.
+
+"I will retain that," he said. "Of course the coroner must be notified.
+This is indeed a sad case. I had no thought of such a thing when I left
+the depot to visit you. This will astound the neighborhood. I came from
+New York intending to visit Chicago, where it is thought a forger has
+found a hiding place. I was not employed to run him down, but thought I
+would place the case in the hands of the Pinkertons."
+
+"You will not desert me in the hour of my trouble, Silas?"
+
+"No, I will not."
+
+"You will remain to hunt down the murderer of poor Vic?"
+
+Emotion choked the young man's utterance then, and he turned his haggard
+face away to hide his feelings.
+
+"I hoped for a brief rest, and an enjoyable visit, old friend," returned
+Keene.
+
+"It seems that it is not to be. I seem destined to be forever on the
+trail of some criminal. Poor little Victoria. When I saw her last she was
+a pretty, playful child. I cannot conceive of a heart wicked enough to
+take such an innocent life."
+
+"It was done for plunder?"
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I had two hundred dollars in the bureau. That was taken."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That convinces me that my poor sister was murdered so that the villain
+could rob the house."
+
+"I am not sure of that."
+
+"No?"
+
+"This robbery may be only a blind."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"I will not say that. It will never do to jump at conclusions. My
+suspicions, if I have any, turn toward that man who just left us."
+
+"August Bordine?"
+
+"Yes. He evidently wrote that letter. In a fit of jealousy, he may have
+struck the blow."
+
+Ransom Vane was silent.
+
+He had thought of this himself, and yet it did not seem possible that his
+friend could be such a demon. The detective must be left to take his own
+course, however.
+
+"They seemed always on friendly terms," said Ransom, at length, "but of
+course there may have been secrets kept from me."
+
+"True, I will investigate thoroughly." The detective hastened away, and a
+little later the coroner appeared. A jury was summoned and an examination
+had. This was on the morning following the tragedy.
+
+August Bordine had been summoned by telegraph, and was the most important
+witness in the case.
+
+When he told the story of the tramp the silence was oppressive.
+
+"Did you know the fellow?"
+
+"I did not; I believe, however, that Miss Vane stated that he had called
+himself Perry Jounce."
+
+At the mention of this name young Vane started.
+
+He plucked at his blonde mustache and seemed exceedingly nervous.
+
+Nothing of grave importance was elicited from Bordine, only some present
+thought he had neglected his duty in leaving the girl so soon after the
+departure of the tramp.
+
+Ransom Vane was the next witness.
+
+He testified to finding his sister dead, with August Bordine standing
+over her.
+
+"He was in hunting costume?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How armed?"
+
+"I saw no arms. He had placed his gun against the end of the porch I
+think."
+
+"You saw no knife?"
+
+"None whatever."
+
+Evidently the coroner had sighted the suspicious circumstances connecting
+August Bordine with the case.
+
+"Did you have a knife that day?" said the coroner, turning abruptly to
+young Bordine.
+
+"Yes, sir, I had a small hunting knife, but not when I found Miss Vane."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I lost the knife in the woods."
+
+"Yes."
+
+A short silence fell.
+
+Many suspicious glances were cast at the young engineer. He felt that he
+occupied a delicate position, but remained calm under it.
+
+The jury decided, after due deliberation, that Victoria Vane came to her
+death at the hands of an unknown party, and so the inquest ended. Murder
+was fully established, but the murderer was not found.
+
+In the mean time Detective Keene had made some discoveries that he kept
+to himself for the time.
+
+No one in or about Ridgewood knew Sile Keene, and so he did not at the
+outset deem it necessary to assume a disguise.
+
+The bereaved brother did not live at the cottage after the murder, but
+found a room at the village tavern. Oft times, however, he wandered to
+the lonely cottage, and in silence brooded over the scene of the murder.
+He stood thus one day when the sound of a step startled him. He raised
+his eyes to peer into the face of a ragged tramp.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV.
+
+                          WAS IT A CONFESSION?
+
+
+The city of Grandon was only a few miles distant from Ridgewood and
+connected by rail. It was a small city of mushroom growth, as is
+characteristic of many Western towns.
+
+It was here that the engineer August Bordine resided.
+
+He was well to-do, supporting a widowed mother, giving her a comfortable
+home from his earnings.
+
+About a week after the tragedy at Ridgewood as Bordine was walking down
+the street his eyes was attracted by a poster on a dead wall near.
+
+He paused and read:
+
+
+                             $5,000 REWARD.
+
+The above reward will be given for information leading to the arrest and
+conviction of the person who murdered Victoria Vane at her home in
+Ridgewood on the 10th of June.
+
+                                    "BUCK BRADY, _Sheriff_."
+
+
+Other pedestrians paused, attracted as Bordine had been by the flaming
+poster.
+
+"By gosh! that ought to fetch 'im," uttered a queer-looking Yankee, who
+had been studying the poster for some minutes.
+
+Bordine regarded the speaker now for the first time.
+
+He was lean and thin, with swallow-tailed coat, tall hat, battered and
+worn, a huge necktie and heavy boots--a veritable Yankee from way back
+the young engineer thought.
+
+"They consider the girl pretty valuable," said another.
+
+"That reward ought to fetch the villain," uttered Bordine. "I have a
+notion to try for it myself."
+
+"S'pose you dew!"
+
+The Yankee regarded him curiously.
+
+"It is a tempting reward."
+
+At this moment a carriage halted, and a bearded face peered out. Beside
+it was a pale, pretty woman's countenance. Evidently they had been
+attracted by the same thing that caused pedestrians to stop and stare.
+
+"Drive on."
+
+It was the woman in a pleading tone.
+
+"But see, my dear, here's something worth looking at. A big reward for
+the arrest of the murderer of poor Miss Vane. Did you notice it?"
+
+"It's in all the papers. _Do_ drive on, Andrew," pleaded the woman's
+voice again.
+
+Then, seeing people gazing at them, she dropped her veil. Her companion,
+a heavily bearded man, seemed intent on gazing at the flaming reward
+poster.
+
+"It's worth the trial," he muttered.
+
+Then he lifted the reins, spoke to his horse, and was soon moving away.
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+This from the Yankee, who seemed unusually excited as he gazed after the
+moving carriage.
+
+"It's Mr. Brown, I believe," answered Bordine. The gentleman had been but
+a short time in town, but as he spent money freely and drove a fast horse
+he had attracted attention, and the young engineer had heard his name
+mentioned freely by some of his friends.
+
+"Brown?"
+
+"From Denver."
+
+"Is that so? Where does he hang out?"
+
+"At the 'Golden Lion'."
+
+Without speaking again the inquisitive Yankee hurried on. In a little
+time he sighted the carriage and its occupants. He followed at a
+respectful distance, and saw it halt in front of a small house in the
+suburbs.
+
+The lady alighted.
+
+"Now, Andrew--"
+
+"Curse you! Why will you speak that name?" the man flung back, savagely.
+"Iris, you have been trouble enough to me, and I won't be dogged in this
+way."
+
+"Dogged! Has not a wife a right to be with her husband?"
+
+"Confound it, no! I will call on you to-night and have this matter
+settled--settled forever."
+
+Then he wheeled his carriage and drove away. The woman, with veil down,
+remained standing at the gate for some time, watching the retreating
+carriage.
+
+And the Yankee leaned against the trunk of a tree near, seemingly intent
+on watching a flock of sparrows near the gutter.
+
+"It looks suspicious, anyhow," muttered the Yankee. "It would be strange
+enough if I should run upon Andrew Barkswell here--funny, indeed."
+
+And the woman?
+
+Her voice was suffused with tears as she murmured:
+
+"Andrew, Andrew, how can you treat me so? I have sold my soul for your
+love, and now--now this is my reward! I feel that I shall die, yes, die,
+or--or go mad!"
+
+She clasped her hands tightly, breathed hoarsely for a moment, then
+turned and reeled to the house. With a key she opened the door and
+entered; which fact convinced the Yankee that she was alone.
+
+Slowly he shuffled down the walk and paused in front of the house.
+
+It looked silent and gloomy enough, as though no human soul occupied the
+interior.
+
+He was soon rapping at the front door. The woman he had seen enter
+answered.
+
+Pushing his way in without ceremony, our Yankee friend seated himself,
+and removing his hat, began smoothing the crown with a greasy elbow.
+
+"Well, sir," demanded the woman, "who are you, and what do you wish?"
+
+"Specs, marm, specs," uttered the Yankee, grinning from ear to ear.
+
+"Sir!"
+
+"I've got 'em, a heap of the best specs sold in America."
+
+Then the Yankee drew from an inner pocket a leather case, which he
+proceeded to open, displaying a lot of cheap spectacles.
+
+"I kin fit old or young, rich or poor, fat or lean, I'm a ginooine
+malefactor o' the human race, a honor to my profession; in fact I'm an
+eye doctor, and if you've weak eyes, as I see you hav', let me--"
+
+"Sir, it is useless; I want none of your wares," said the woman, tartly.
+
+"Yeou look sick, madam."
+
+"I want none of your wares I tell you."
+
+"Law now--"
+
+"Please go."
+
+"But see here, mebbe yeou don't know who I be. I'm Jathom Green, from
+Goose Creek, down ter Vermount."
+
+"But this is nothing to me I tell you."
+
+The Yankee glanced carelessly, yet keenly, about the room. He noticed
+everything without seeming to do so. Folding up his spectacles, he
+finally returned them to his pocket and retired.
+
+Just at dusk a man ran up the steps and opened the front door.
+
+He did not resemble the man we have seen in the carriage some time
+before. He followed the woman at once to a back room, flung his elegantly
+clad frame into a chair, and gazed fixedly at the trim figure of the
+woman before him.
+
+Producing a cigar he lit it before uttering a word.
+
+A second figure stole up the steps and opened the door cautiously,
+tiptoeing down a narrow hall to the room occupied by the man and woman.
+The last comer was the Yankee, who had not been far from the vicinity
+during the afternoon.
+
+Kneeling the Yankee peeped through the keyhole. He started then and came
+near uttering an exclamation.
+
+"Now, sir, what have you to say regarding your conduct," demanded the
+woman, who, with hat and veil removed, was rather a pretty lady of medium
+size, although her white face and hollow eyes betokened much suffering.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Nothing? Oh, And--"
+
+"Stop! Utter that name here and I will brain you," hissed the man,
+suddenly, furiously, half rising to his feet.
+
+"What must I say?"
+
+"Brown, call me Brown, Jones, or anything but that."
+
+"Well, Brown, you know I have been a faithful wife, and you have treated
+me with anything but affection."
+
+"Why did you follow me? I told you I'd kill you if you did."
+
+"It is because I love you, Andrew--"
+
+"That name again!" he uttered, with an imprecation. "Madam, if you were a
+true wife, you would assist me in my schemes, and we might live in a
+mansion. I have a plan."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"We might win that reward."
+
+The woman shuddered and covered her face with her hands.
+
+"Do you know, Iris?" he proceeded, with the utmost coolness, "I saw that
+girl, Victoria Vane, before she was killed. I tell you, she was quite
+sweet on me."
+
+A groan alone answered him.
+
+"There was money in the house, and I managed to handle some of it,"
+continued the man. "I supposed, or rather, I expected to make more out of
+that haul, but only got a few paltry dollars. I expect some poor tramp
+will be arrested for the murder of the girl, and hang, like enough."
+
+"And you--you killed her?
+
+"That would be telling, my dear. These girls get a fellow into a deuce of
+a scrape sometimes, let alone a fellow's wife. But, my dear, let's drop
+this subject and talk of something more agreeable."
+
+The creak of a door startled both.
+
+The man seemed startled.
+
+He turned his head, then came to his feet with a hissing cry.
+
+He was peering into the muzzle of a glistening revolver, behind which
+stood the form of our Yankee friend.
+
+The light in the room was not brilliant, yet faces were plainly
+discernible.
+
+"August Bordine, I arrest you for the murder of Victoria Vane!" cried the
+Yankee, in an awful voice.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+                           THE TRAMP ON DECK.
+
+
+For full a minute not a word passed between the two men. The sodden eyes
+of the tramp were fixed in a sullen gaze on the face of Ransom Vane.
+
+"What do you want here?" finally demanded Vane in a harsh voice.
+
+"I came to see you."
+
+"To see me?"
+
+"That's what I said."
+
+"I have no money to give you, so you can travel," retorted Vane
+impatiently.
+
+"I hain't just ready to travel," grated the tramp. "You act jest as
+though you didn't know me, Rans Vane?"
+
+"Know you?"
+
+The young man glanced fixedly into the face of the ragged, filthy looking
+being before him.
+
+"Wal?"
+
+"I never saw you before."
+
+"Sure?"
+
+"I am sure."
+
+"Didn't you once live in New York State?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Near Rochester?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"On a farm?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Hev' you forgot the young feller that drove the team, the chap that got
+his walkin' papers in the dead o' winter, and was actually kicked into
+the road jest because he was absent one time to see his sister who was
+tendin' school in the city? You called me lazy then, Rans Vane, and you
+struck me, yes _you_ did, and don't you remember, I swore I'd get even?
+More, you insulted my sister by speakin' ill of her, and that chit of a
+gal, Miss Victory, laughed. I was mad--"
+
+"You are Perry Jounce."
+
+"That's it the fust time guessin'."
+
+"And you have come to this. I knew you would never amount to anything,
+even if you did have a smart sister."
+
+"Hush, now! Don't you dare speak of her."
+
+"Did she do well?"
+
+"Better 'n yours."
+
+A deadly pallor struck the face of Ransom Vane. His sister was dead, had
+been cruelly murdered, and at that moment he believed that this
+villainous tramp had had a hand in her death.
+
+"Scoundrel!" exclaimed Vane, advancing toward the tramp. "You are the
+wretch who murdered my poor Victoria."
+
+"Stand back."
+
+There was an evil glare in the eyes of the speaker.
+
+Vane continued to advance threateningly.
+
+"Stand back, I say, or you'll get a taste o' _this_."
+
+He displayed a huge knife, the same with which he had threatened Bordine
+on a former occasion.
+
+"Scoundrel!"
+
+"It won't do no good to sling words. Rans, I ain't afeard of em."
+
+For several minutes the two stood glaring at each other with glittering
+eyes and gleaming teeth.
+
+"Rans Vane, I swore I'd git even with ye fur all you did agin' me and
+mine ten year ago. I reckin you're gittin' a leetle o' the sufferin--"
+
+"Stop," hoarsely.
+
+"No I won't. I want ye ter know that I hain't forgot. I know'd you'n the
+gal came West arter the ole man died, but I didn't know whar. I've been a
+tramp fur a year, and I 'lowed I'd run onter ye sometime, but 'twas all
+unexpected when I seed the gal t'other day."
+
+"And you murdered her, murdered my sister?"
+
+"Wal, 'twould a-b'en justice ef I had."
+
+"Oh, you wretch--"
+
+"'Twont do no good to call names, pard; they never hurted anybody yet 'at
+I knows of," sneered the tramp, still holding his knife ready for instant
+use.
+
+The slender frame of Ransom Vane trembled, and his white hands were
+clinched fiercely. He well understood the vicious nature of the man
+before him, however, and realized that a movement of aggression on his
+part would lead to his own doom.
+
+Now, more than ever, was he convinced that Perry Jounce was the one
+guilty of the death of poor Victoria. Vane was placed in a terrible
+position just then. The tramp had him completely in his power, and it
+might be that he meditated another murder.
+
+"Perry Jounce, listen to me."
+
+The young man forced a calmness he did not feel, while speaking to the
+man before him.
+
+"Perceed, Rans, old boy."
+
+"Why did you murder an innocent child like my poor Victoria? Surely she
+had not harmed you."
+
+Ransom Vane began now, with the intention of talking against time, with
+the hope that some one might happen along, and assist in capturing the
+tramp.
+
+"Nothin' but a child, eh?" with a brutal sneer. "I'd like ter know whar
+you git yer old gals then, ef Miss Vic war a spring chicken."
+
+The young man's blood boiled to resent the insult.
+
+Nevertheless, his prudence still held his passions down.
+
+"Perry, why will you speak so brutally?"
+
+"Look a-here, Rans, I ain't none o' your kid-glove kind. I allus speaks
+out what I hev to say. I hate you and yourn, and I jest tell you in plain
+English 'at I'm glad your sister's dead; not fur her sake, but because it
+makes you suffer."
+
+"And this is why you murdered her?"
+
+"Who said I did it?"
+
+"You have just admitted as much."
+
+"That's a lie! I never make such foolish admissions as that. I'd look
+well owning up to somethin' I didn't do."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that you did not murder Victoria?" cried the
+young man in a tone of intense feeling.
+
+"Of course I didn't. I ain't no fool."
+
+"I cannot believe you."
+
+"I don't ask ye to."
+
+The tramp polished the blade of his huge knife on his greasy sleeve.
+
+"I might spill a little blood I s'pose," he muttered aloud, "but I reckin
+I'll let you live awhile yet."
+
+Then he turned as if to depart.
+
+"Don't go yet," cried the young cottage-owner, as his eye caught sight of
+a man approaching from the wood road. His thought was that with help he
+might capture the tramp.
+
+"Wal, why not?"
+
+Perry Jounce halted.
+
+"I want you to answer a few questions."
+
+"Heave ahead."
+
+"Tell me what you know about my poor Victoria's death. You were here just
+before."
+
+"Who told you so?"
+
+"It doesn't matter."
+
+"I know now. It was that engineer from Grandon. I've forgot his name. He
+peached on me, I reckin."
+
+"You have guessed the truth."
+
+"Rans, don't you trust that man."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"_He_ kin tell you how Vic come ter die, he kin. 'Twas jealousy and the
+like that did it."
+
+"Do you mean that?"
+
+Ransom Vane sprang forward and clutched the arm of the tramp.
+
+"Let go. Yes, I mean it. _He_ killed Victoria 'cause he thought she'd
+make trouble atwixt him an' another gal, that's the truth ef I hang fur
+it."
+
+"My soul! it is as I feared."
+
+Ransom Vane still clung to the arm of the tramp, however. The man was
+rapidly approaching, and carried a gun. Young Vane recognized him as
+Bordine, and he was anxious to secure his assistance in securing the
+tramp.
+
+"Let go, Rans, I must be traveling."
+
+"But wait. Will you testify to what you have jast said?"
+
+"Mebbe."
+
+"Then remain--"
+
+"Let go, I tell ye."
+
+Vane, however, still clung to the arm of Jounce. The latter became angry,
+and flung him off furiously.
+
+"Help! Murder!" shouted Vane.
+
+"Take that, you fool!"
+
+The tramp struck a vicious blow with his knife at the heart of young
+Vane.
+
+The latter sunk bleeding to the ground.
+
+"Hello!"
+
+A tall, slender young man in hunter's costume peered upon the scene.
+
+Perry Jounce walked forward, glanced keenly into the young hunter's face,
+then said:
+
+"I've fixed him, I take it; but don't you peep, or--"
+
+He did not finish his sentence, but strode swiftly away.
+
+"Stop, August Bordine. I am badly hurt by that scoundrel. Will you help
+me?"
+
+Ransom Vane sat up, with blood streaming from a wound in his breast.
+
+The hunter at once sprang to his assistance, and made a swift examination
+of the wound.
+
+He tore strips of cloth from the wounded man's shirt and succeeded, after
+a little, in staunching the blood.
+
+"How do you feel?"
+
+"Weak as a cat, but I don't believe the blade touched a vital spot,"
+answered Vane, who now sat on the bench at the end of the porch.
+
+"Of course he didn't. Shall I help you to the doctor's office?"
+
+"No. You are going to the village?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you may send Dr. Helling to me."
+
+"I will do so."
+
+"Stay one moment."
+
+The hunter turned about and waited for what his young friend had to say.
+
+"You saw that tramp, August?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why didn't you stop him? He gave me this wound, and I believe he is the
+man we need for--for the murder of poor Vic."
+
+"No?" in evident surprise. "I was so startled I didn't think far enough
+to stop the fellow."
+
+Then the young hunter proceeded on his way with his gun under his arm and
+a peculiar smile on his countenance.
+
+"There's a little mistake it seems," he muttered.
+
+Just then a man stepped from a clump of bushes near and touched the
+hunter's arm.
+
+He halted and turned about quickly.
+
+"Andrew Barkswell, I'm glad to meet you."
+
+It was Perry Jounce, the tramp, who uttered the words.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI.
+
+                          DETECTIVE AND WIDOW.
+
+
+When the Yankee crept in upon his prey he felt sure of securing him.
+
+There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, however.
+
+Our Yankee friend failed to take into consideration the fact that there
+was a second person in the room.
+
+The young man stared at the Yankee and his revolver as if more surprised
+than frightened.
+
+"What's the matter, old chap?" uttered the man, with a sneer. "This is my
+house--"
+
+"You are my prisoner," uttered the Yankee, sternly.
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"You will learn soon enough, August Bordine."
+
+"That isn't my name."
+
+"You have a dozen. I know you, however, as the forger, Andrew Barkswell."
+
+"Well, I suppose I may's well come."
+
+He was going in without resistance.
+
+The Yankee was keen, but he failed to notice the movement of the woman.
+
+Of a sudden she sprang forward behind the Yankee, and flung her arms
+about him, pinioning his arms for an instant. He soon tore loose, but
+precious time had been lost.
+
+With a sweep of his hand, the man, whom our Yankee friend had taken for
+August Bordine, dashed the lamp to the floor, leaving the room in total
+darkness.
+
+"Good-by, Mr. Keene. I hope you'll have better success next time,"
+chuckled a voice, and then the outer door slammed, denoting that the
+outlaw had passed out into the night.
+
+All this was the work of less than a minute.
+
+The detective, for he it was, wrenched himself from the woman's detaining
+arms, and dashed down the hall to the street. Darkness reigned outside,
+and it soon became evident that the outlaw had made good his escape.
+
+The baffled detective went back to the house in no enviable mood.
+
+"I'm a little out in my reckoning," he muttered. "That man was certainly
+Barkswell, and yet he resembled Bordine. Can it be that the two are
+identical? They certainly look enough alike to be twin brothers."
+
+Once more the detective entered the house. Groping along the hall, he
+scratched a match, and entering the back room, soon had the lamp burning
+once more.
+
+The woman was gone.
+
+"I might have arrested her," muttered the detective, "had I not chased
+her husband into the darkness. I am confident that it's the same couple I
+saw in the carriage, yet then he was in disguise."
+
+Sile Keene searched the house from top to bottom, but made no important
+discoveries. He was prone to believe, however, that Barkswell was the
+assassin of poor Victoria Vane.
+
+"Is this man and Bordine identical? That is the question," mused the
+detective. "I am inclined to think they are."
+
+Then he left the house and hurried swiftly away.
+
+The city of Grandon was small, and it did not require much time to
+traverse its entire length.
+
+In a little time the detective stood before an unpretending dwelling
+which had been pointed out to him as the house of the young engineer.
+
+There was a cheerful glow in the windows, although the curtains were
+down. Keene had cast aside his Yankee togs, and appeared undisguised.
+
+The bell was answered by the widow Bordine herself, who at once invited
+him into her cozy parlor.
+
+No one was here.
+
+The detective glanced keenly around and noted the comfort of the little
+house. How could the young man who had built such a snug nest turn his
+attention into criminal channels? The widow was but sixty, with a plump
+form, pleasant eyes and agreeable manners. Detective Keene was at once
+prepossessed in her favor.
+
+Could the son of such a woman be the villain appearances indicated? or
+had there been a grand mistake somewhere?
+
+"My name is Keene," said the detective, introducing himself. "I called to
+see your son."
+
+"My son is not in."
+
+"When will he return."
+
+"Not until late. His business requires him to keep late hours sometimes."
+
+"Which is unpleasant for you."
+
+"Somewhat, but it won't long be so."
+
+"Indeed?"
+
+"When they are married, he will bring Rose here, and then he'll keep
+better hours."
+
+"Rose?"
+
+Detective Keen smiled at the simplicity of the old lady.
+
+"Rose Alstine. They've been keepin' company a long time."
+
+"The young lady is wealthy?"
+
+"How do you know? Have you seen 'em?"
+
+"No, but I've heard of the Alstines," returned Keene.
+
+"Well, I suppose Rose is quite an heiress, especially if the old man's
+mine turns out well, he's been buying out in Colorado. He's out there now
+looking after it."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I expect August'll be married as soon's he gets home."
+
+"And that will be when?"
+
+"Can't tell. It may be a month and it may be a year."
+
+"Quite an uncertainty, indeed."
+
+"Yes," heaving a deep sigh, "I'll be proper glad when they are settled."
+
+"I should think so. You have friends in Ridgewood."
+
+"None to speak of."
+
+"The Vanes--"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know. They wan't my friends in petic'lar. Victoria was a
+pretty girl, and some folks called her smart, but I never could see it.
+Poor thing, it was an awful end she came to at last," and the widow wiped
+away a sympathetic tear.
+
+"It was, indeed," agreed the detective. "Your son thought much of the
+girl?"
+
+"Of Victoria Vane?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Law, no. Didn't I tell you that August was keepin' company with the
+Alstine girl?"
+
+"Yes; but young men sometimes have more strings than one, you know."
+
+"But August ain't that kind."
+
+"Artless, old mother!" thought Keene. "She knows nothing of the doings of
+this son of her's." Then, thinking of the forger whom he had come so near
+capturing that evening, Keene said: "You are from New York, I believe,
+Mrs. Bordine?"
+
+"Formerly, yes."
+
+"From the neighborhood of Rochester?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you know a family by the name of Barkswell?"
+
+"Never heard of 'em."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Well, I'm not given to telling wrong stories, Mr. Keene. Why should I?
+Our family was never ashamed of its name--"
+
+"No, certainly not; but I knew the Barkswells, and I thought you might
+have forgotten. I am from York State myself."
+
+"Glad to hear it. I think I heard August speak of you. He met you down to
+Ridgewood?"
+
+"Yes. I am quite anxious to see your son on important business."
+
+"Come in to-morrow, then. I expect he'll be to home."
+
+The detective rose to go.
+
+It did not seem possible to him then that the villain Barkswell and
+Bordine could be one and the same, yet it was nevertheless certain that
+there was a strong resemblance between the two men, and Keene was
+determined to watch Bordine closely.
+
+Detective Keene hurried away.
+
+Soon he was traversing one of the narrowest streets of the city. Just
+ahead of him he saw a man standing so that the light from a saloon window
+flared in his face.
+
+Silas Keene halted an instant and gazed fixedly at the man.
+
+It was certainly the same person he had attempted to arrest that night--
+either Andrew Barkswell or August Bordine.
+
+The detective suddenly advanced.
+
+The sound of his step caused the young man to turn about.
+
+Both men regarded one another fixedly, a surprised look shooting over the
+face of the younger.
+
+"Ah, it is Mr. Keene. Glad to see you, sir. Will you come home with me?"
+cried August Bordine, as he grasped the detective warmly by the hand.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+                                CAUGHT!
+
+
+It will be remembered that the young hunter who had assisted the wounded
+Ransom Vane, was hailed on his way to the village by the tramp, who has
+so far occupied a prominent place in this narrative.
+
+A curious smile flitted over the face of the hunter as he looked at the
+ragged creature before him.
+
+"I am glad to see you, Andrew," said the tramp, extending his hand.
+
+"Are you?"
+
+The hunter refused to touch the dirty paw extended toward him.
+
+"Won't you shake?"
+
+"No. You have made a mistake. I am not Andrew Barkswell."
+
+"Not Andrew Barkswell?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Who then?"
+
+"My name is August Bordine."
+
+"Lord, is that so?" cried Jounce with a grin. "Didn't you just come from
+the man I knifed down yonder?"
+
+"Certainly, and you'll have that to answer for."
+
+"Will he die?"
+
+"I expect so."
+
+"You wouldn't dare appear agin me?"
+
+"I will, as you shall see."
+
+The tramp fell back a step and made a move as if to draw a weapon, but
+the muzzle of a cocked rifle cooled his ardor a little.
+
+"Now, see here, what's the use of fooling, pardner?" whined the tramp.
+
+"No use of it. I am in deadly earnest I assure you," returned the hunter.
+"I am of the opinion that you murdered that poor girl last week, and do
+you know, sir, there's a big reward offered for you dead or alive?"
+
+"No. How much?"
+
+"Five thousand dollars."
+
+"No-o!"
+
+"It's true."
+
+"Who makes the offer?"
+
+"The proper officer--sheriff, I suppose. Come, now; I think I will take
+you into custody, and haul in that reward."
+
+"But I ain't guilty, and you know it, Andrew."
+
+"Andrew again--"
+
+"No more foolin', old chap. I know you, though, by gum! you _do_ look a
+heap like the ingineer from Grandon. Mebbe you'n him's related. But see
+here, I kin tell you by that, allus."
+
+With a quick movement, the tramp sprang forward and pushed up the hat of
+the hunter, revealing in the roots of the hair a red, ragged scar.
+
+"Your loving wife made that, pardner, and I 'spose you'll acknowledge the
+corn now."
+
+"Confound you!"
+
+The hunter seemed angry enough to annihilate the tramp, but the latter
+stood back and grinned complacently in his face.
+
+"Couldn't fool me, brother," chuckled Jounce. "I 'member when Iris gin ye
+that rap. She sticks to ye like a burr, pardner, and won't let ye play
+sweet on the ladies, as you'd like. Kinder mean fur a wife to keep sich a
+sharp eye out fur her lord, but I tell ye, Iris is grit to ther backbone,
+and she's jealous, too. But I won't tantalize yer, coz 'taint jest; but
+'sposin' you gin me a little rhino? I'm busted--dead broke; out o' rocks,
+and wrecked on a lee shore."
+
+The man uttered an imprecation.
+
+"I see that you know me," he finally articulated. "I've fooled a good
+many, but it seems a loving relative can't be deceived. Don't you give me
+away, Perry, and I'll have money enough for all of us soon."
+
+"No lying?"
+
+"It's true as preaching"
+
+"What lay are you on?"
+
+"I make no confidants."
+
+"Then you'll rue it mebbe."
+
+"I certainly should if I did. I've got the softest snap but for one
+thing."
+
+"Wal?"
+
+"An infernal man-tracker from Gotham is out here on my lay. He may prove
+troublesome."
+
+"I've seen him--Sile Keene."
+
+"Yes. Put him off the track, Perry, and I'll make it an object."
+
+Then the hunter laid a gold eagle in the hand of the tramp. An avaricious
+gleam filled the man's wicked eyes.
+
+"You can count on me, brother."
+
+"Never mind brothering me. I don't want you to trouble me again, you
+understand, until--"
+
+"Till that man-tracker goes under?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"You bet I won't."
+
+Then Barkswell moved on his way, and the tramp disappeared in the bushes.
+
+"Ho! So Mr. Andy don't like for me to call him brother," uttered the
+tramp, gutterally. "Wonder if he's forgot that he married sister Iris. I
+must look up the old girl. Mebbe she can do something for me. I'm aware
+that she'd be ashamed of me in these togs but I reckin I kin sleek up a
+bit with a part o' this"--clinching the gold-piece as he spoke.
+
+In the meantime Andrew Barkswell made his way to the village, and finding
+the village physician, sent him to the cottage of Ransom Vane to attend
+the wounded man.
+
+It will be seen that the man in hunter's costume was not August Bordine,
+although he had deceived Ransom Vane into believing him to be the
+engineer. It was this close resemblance to Bordine that put a scheme into
+the head of a villain.
+
+"I had no idea that I looked so much like somebody else," mused the young
+villain as he rode toward Grandon that night. "I'll profit by this, or I
+am a fool. If Iris had only remained away. She's so squeamish, I can't do
+anything. I really wish an accident would happen to her."
+
+All this happened on the day before the adventures of Mr. Barkswell with
+the detective in the guise of a Yankee, already recorded.
+
+We now return to the city.
+
+Silas Keene was not a little puzzled as he found himself clasping the
+hand of the young man in front of the low saloon.
+
+Was this the same man he had dogged to the house in the suburbs?
+
+He looked like him, and yet there seemed to be a slight difference in the
+voice.
+
+The detective was puzzled.
+
+"Where do you stop, Mr. Keene?"
+
+"At the Golden Lion."
+
+"Good hotel; but I would like to have you accompany me home. I would talk
+of the late crime at Ridgewood. I notice that a large reward has been
+offered for the perpetrator."
+
+"It seems so."
+
+"Of course you will strive to win the reward."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+The two men were now walking away from the vicinity of the saloon.
+
+"This is the hardest part of the city," said Bordine. "It's seldom that I
+come this way."
+
+"What called you here to-night?"
+
+The detective was suspicious now of the man, and had his revolver
+convenient to his hand.
+
+"Well, simply because I saw a fellow coming this way that I recognized.
+The man entered that saloon. You see I brood continually over the murder
+of poor Victoria Vane."
+
+"Yes; that is natural enough."
+
+"Is it? I suppose it's because I was connected with it in such a way."
+
+"You connected with the murder?"
+
+Sile Keene seemed to think his companion was about to make a full
+confession, for he almost stopped in his walk to stare at the face of
+Bordine.
+
+"I was connected with it, as you will remember. Sometimes I blame myself
+for not remaining until her brother returned, and not giving that tramp
+the opportunity he desired," said Bordine, in a solemn voice.
+
+"So you think it was the tramp that committed the murder?"
+
+The detective asked this question simply for the want of something
+better. He was now pretty thoroughly convinced that the real assassin
+walked at his side, and that it might be well to arrest him at once,
+when, if necessary, sufficient evidence could be hunted up afterward.
+
+"I am almost sure of it."
+
+"What motive?"
+
+"Robbery and revenge."
+
+"Indeed."
+
+"Yes. Poor Victoria!"
+
+"See here, Mr. Bordine, what was that girl to you?" demanded the
+detective, suddenly and sharply, laying his hand on the arm of his
+companion.
+
+A dark form dogging their steps--had not been seen by either.
+
+"She was nothing to me, sir."
+
+"A friend?"
+
+"Certainly, and nothing more. If you knew her you will bear me out in the
+statement that she was something of a coquette in her way."
+
+"I know nothing about that."
+
+"You hadn't met her in some years perhaps."
+
+"I admit that I had not. See here, Mr. Bordine, _alias_ Barkswell, we may
+as well come to an understanding. I consider you a dangerous man, and
+propose to put you in a safe place."
+
+At this moment a ring of cold steel touched the temple of Bordine, who
+regarded the detective in silent astonishment.
+
+A revolver was against his temple.
+
+"What does this mean?" demanded Bordine.
+
+"That you are my prisoner, forger and assassin!" hissed Silas Keene.
+
+The next instant a pair of handcuffs were snapped over the young
+engineer's wrists.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII.
+
+                         THE DETECTIVE PUZZLED.
+
+
+August Bordine stood handcuffed and a prisoner, his face the picture of
+utter astoundment.
+
+It was too dark, however, for the detective to note the look on the face
+of the young engineer.
+
+"I hope you will go with me peaceably," uttered Keene, as he clutched the
+arm of his prisoner to lead him away.
+
+"Mr. Keene, this is astounding. I thought you were my friend," finally
+uttered the young engineer, in a voice quivering with emotion.
+
+"You are a skilled and slippery villain, young man, but you cannot throw
+me off the scent by any such pretense as this. I've trapped too many
+criminals, and heard their smooth talk. Let me tell you that I heard your
+confession to your wife, that you murdered Victoria Vane and robbed the
+house."
+
+Bordine trembled under the detective's hand.
+
+"Come."
+
+"But I tell you there is some mistake, sir. My name is Bordine, and--"
+
+"I do not care to listen just now," interrupted Silas Keene. I know my
+duty."
+
+"I doubt it," retorted Bordine angrily. "I will make you smart for this."
+
+The young man walked on, however, and when in the vicinity of the city
+lockup, the detective turned from the street to cross a vacant lot. They
+were thus in a gloomy spot, and compelled to pass near the edge of a deep
+hollow, an excavation made a long time before for a cellar.
+
+Just at this point a dark form glided up behind the detective and dealt
+him a stunning blow on the head, felling him to the ground.
+
+"Thar, pardner, I reckon that beak won't git no furder with his
+pris'ner."
+
+Bordine was dumbfounded.
+
+Who was the rough-spoken man who had come to his rescue by perhaps
+dealing the detective a death-blow?
+
+"He put the darbies on, did he?"
+
+Bordine held up his manacled hands. The gruff-spoken individual fumbled
+with them a moment, and then, to his great joy, Bordine found his wrists
+free.
+
+The stranger had done him a good turn indeed.
+
+Now the young engineer was anxious about the detective's fate; who he
+realized, had been acting in good faith no matter how foolishly he had
+blundered.
+
+"I'm allus on hand like a thumb," chuckled the man who had rescued
+Bordine.
+
+"You had keys to fit the handcuffs?"
+
+"Took 'em from the bloke's pocket."
+
+"I see."
+
+Then, as he cast the bracelets from him, August bent over the prostrate
+form of Silas Keene.
+
+"I'm afraid you've seriously injured the man," said August lowly.
+
+"Wal, nobody'll cry ef I have," grated the rescuer, "I expect we'd better
+make sure of the job and then I kin claim the reward."
+
+"Reward."
+
+"Why, confound it, the rhino you promised me ef I'd knife the cursed beak
+who was on yer trail."
+
+"Oh yes, to be sure," returned the young engineer, who by this time began
+to "catch on" to the true situation.
+
+It was evident that a grave mistake had been made, and Bordine resolved
+to carry on the deception with a view to learning something of the
+intentions of the villain or villains who had plotted the destruction of
+Keene.
+
+"Let's see, how much was I to give you for this?"
+
+"Durn it, that was fur you to say, Andy. I want you to be liberal now."
+
+"Yes, you've done me a good turn to-night and I'm not unmindful of it,
+but I don't happen to have any money on my person just at present.
+Suppose you call 'round to-morrow evening about this time."
+
+"When you'll be out of the kentry mebbe," retorted the other with a growl
+of dissatisfaction.
+
+"You ought to know me better than that," rebuked the engineer.
+
+"I know ye fur jest that caper, Andy Barkswell."
+
+So that was the man he was supposed to represent. There was something
+familiar in the ring of the man's voice, too. Where had he heard it
+before?
+
+"Well, sir, I can't pay you anything to-night. You appoint a place of
+meeting and I will be there, don't you fear," returned the young
+engineer, after a moment given to reflection.
+
+"Wal, ef that's yer game, I'll meet ye at Billy Bowleg's saloon,
+to-morrer at this time. Is't a bargain?"
+
+"It's a bargain, Perry."
+
+Then the two clasped hands.
+
+August Bordine recognized the man now as the tramp who had assaulted
+Victoria Vane, that day, when he was up at Eastman's woods on a hunting
+excursion. He was the same man he had seen enter the saloon so Silas
+Keene came along, and it was this saloon that the tramp had named as the
+place for the next meeting. It was well. The engineer resolved to be on
+hand and make sure of the burly scoundrel who, August Bordine was sure,
+had murdered Victoria Vane.
+
+"Now, pard, hadn't I better gin the hound another tap on the head?"
+Referring to the insensible detective.
+
+"No, leave him to me, old fellow. You have done your complete share in
+disposing of the man-tracker. I will complete the work."
+
+"Better dump him in yender."
+
+"No."
+
+Perry Jounce said no more, but moved swiftly away in the gloom.
+
+Then August Bordine hastened for assistance.
+
+He found a hack, and had the insensible detective borne to his home,
+which was not reached until nearly midnight.
+
+When the man-tracker opened his eyes, he found himself in a cozy room,
+snugly ensconsed on a huge sofa, with the fumes of a hot sling in his
+nostrils.
+
+"Taste this, Mr. Keene, and you will feel better."
+
+It was August Bordine, with a hot drink for the detective. For a moment
+the man-hunter could scarcely believe his senses.
+
+He sipped the hot sling, and afterward felt better, so that he sat up and
+gazed about him. It was the same room he had visited earlier in the
+evening, but the picture of home comfort was not the same, on account of
+the absence of the comfortable form and motherly face of Mrs. Bordine,
+who had retired long since to rest.
+
+Silas Keene's senses were yet in a daze, and his head ached enough to
+split. He glanced at the pleasant face of the young engineer, then about
+the room, as if wondering where he was.
+
+"You are puzzled, Mr. Keene."
+
+"Well, I should say so," returned the detective. "I cannot account for
+it, nohow."
+
+"This is my home, Mr. Keene, and you are welcome to remain here until you
+choose to depart. I would like for you to make it your home while you
+remain in the city."
+
+"But," gasped the detective, "how does it come that I am here?"
+
+"I had you brought here in a hack."
+
+"Was it you that knocked me over?"
+
+"No, indeed," smiled Bordine. "I was never known to assault an officer."
+
+"Then how--"
+
+"I will explain."
+
+The young engineer did so, telling all the circumstances and concluding
+with:
+
+"I am as deeply puzzled as you can be, at the man's motive in rescuing me
+from your hands. Evidently he mistook me for another person, since he
+addressed me as Andrew Barkswell."
+
+"And is not that your name?"
+
+"Certainly not. I hope you did not make the same mistake. Evidently you
+did, for, if my memory serves me, you addressed me by that name as well
+as my own when you arrested me last night."
+
+"Last night?"
+
+"Yes. It is quite morning now."
+
+"And you have been with me all night?"
+
+"Yes, and summoned a physician. You see I was afraid you had been
+seriously injured."
+
+Silas Keene bowed his head in thought for some moments. At length he
+looked up and held out his hand.
+
+"Mr. Bordine, I have been a confounded fool."
+
+"I hope not."
+
+Yet the young man could not repress a laugh at the queer expression
+resting on the countenance of the detective.
+
+"I arrested you for murder."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"For the murder of the Vane girl."
+
+"Yes. You were in a hurry to win the reward--I forgive you, sir. It was
+simply a mistake."
+
+"And might have proved a grievous one."
+
+"Certainly. I am satisfied that it is no worse."
+
+"And you can forgive me?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+The two men clasped hands in apparent friendship.
+
+Nevertheless the detective had a lingering suspicion that he was making
+more of a fool of himself than ever. He tried to smother this, and to
+appear frank and genial before Bordine. If the man before him was not
+Barkswell, then he resembled him so closely as to defy detecting the
+difference.
+
+"I will watch and wait," thought Keene, "and not make another move until
+I am certain of the facts."
+
+"Now that we understand each other," proceeded Bordine, "I wish to make a
+bargain with you."
+
+"Proceed."
+
+"I promised to meet this tramp, whose real name is Perry Jounce, I
+believe, at Billy Bowleg's saloon to-morrow evening, for the purpose of
+rewarding him for his villainy."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I find that my other duties will compel me to remain away, but if you
+will look after the appointment I shall be glad. You can take all the
+help you need, and make sure of this tramp, and may help break up a bad
+nest as well. What do you say?"
+
+"I will do it of course."
+
+"Thanks. Now lie here and rest. You need to be recuperated, for the work
+is hard." "I will do so."
+
+Then bidding his guest good-night, the young engineer left the room.
+
+As he had said it was almost day dawn, and one person was early astir, at
+least in the city, a man who had been listening at the slightly raised
+window to the conversation going on between Bordine and the detective.
+
+"It is well," he muttered with a chuckle of delight as he hurried away.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX.
+
+                            A BIBULOUS LOVER.
+
+
+In a pretty bijou of a room one evening sat a girl of nineteen, tall and
+stately, with a comely face and eyes that were lustrous as stars.
+
+Rose Alstine was not a beauty, but she was good at heart, generous to a
+fault, and beloved by all who knew her.
+
+She was an heiress to wealth that was reputed bordering on a million. Her
+money prospects, however, in no way marred the goodness of her character.
+Had she been overly proud she would certainly not have permitted the
+attentions of the humble engineer, August Bordine.
+
+There was genuine love between them, too, not of the effusive, sickish
+sort, but that love that enobles and glorifies.
+
+On the evening in question, Rose sat alone gazing thoughtfully at the
+carpet. There was a troubled look on her countenance, for only that day
+she had heard bad news. A horse had run away with her lover and flung him
+so violently against a post as to injure him severely.
+
+In the evening paper she read the account, and now she was debating
+whether or not it would be unmaidenly for her to call on her lover. In
+the main Rose was a sensible girl, yet she was seldom known to fly in the
+face of the proprieties.
+
+August might die!
+
+It was this thought that brought a moisture to the eyes of the heiress,
+just as Miss Williams, her cousin of uncertain age, entered the room.
+
+"It would certainly never do, Rose, never."
+
+"What is that, Janet?"
+
+"It would never do for you to visit a man. Just think what the gossips
+would say. As a relative, and one who would not like to see our good name
+trailed as a garment, I warn you not to think of such a thing as visiting
+that man Bordine."
+
+Rose regarded the speaker keenly.
+
+Even with a sad feeling tugging at her heart, she could not but
+understand that it was sour grapes with Janet Williams. She had once
+tried desperately to win the attention of the young engineer.
+
+"But, Janet, August may be fatally injured," said Rose, after a moment,
+in a faltering voice.
+
+"Which would not alter the status of the case in the least."
+
+"Are you heartless, Janet?"
+
+"No. But--"
+
+[Illustration: WITH A LITTLE SHRIEK SHE RUSHED INTO HIS OPEN ARMS AND
+SEALED HER WELCOME ON HIS LIPS]
+
+A bounding step on the stair cut short the words of Miss Williams. The
+next instant the door was flung open and a man crossed the threshold,
+and, hat in hand, confronted the two girls.
+
+His face was somewhat pale, yet his lips were wreathed in a smile. Rose
+sat for an instant staring at the man as though about to faint, so
+astonished was she.
+
+Then with a little shriek she rushed into his open arms and sealed her
+welcome on his lips.
+
+Miss Williams stood dumfounded.
+
+Rose lay sobbing on the breast of her stalwart lover.
+
+"There, Rose, darling, that will do," said the gentleman, leading her to
+a seat. "Were you not expecting me?"
+
+"No indeed," cried Rose, as she brushed away the tears. "I read of the
+terrible accident, and my mind was full of forboding."
+
+"Indeed! What a little goose you are, Rose."
+
+"But you might have been killed, you know, and then--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And then what would have become of poor me?"
+
+"Sure enough; but I wasn't killed, nor even seriously hurt, my dear, so
+we will discard such disagreeable thoughts from our minds."
+
+He settled himself on the wide, cushioned couch at her side, and pressed
+a kiss on her cheek just as Miss Williams swept, with upturned nose, from
+the room.
+
+"Faugh!" ejaculated the elderly girl, as she closed the door behind her
+with a bang. "I can't abide such sickly slush as that. Rose is a fool,
+and that man isn't one whit better."
+
+Then she flounced down the broad stairs and sought relief from her
+overwrought feelings in smelling-bottle and snuff.
+
+Yes, dear reader, Miss Williams, dear old girl, was given to snuff, and
+she would soon cross the boundaries to that old maid's paradise where
+cats and parrots abounded.
+
+With her it was indeed the sourest of sour grapes.
+
+And Rose?
+
+She felt that this was the happiest moment of her life, as she nestled
+against her lover's breast and realized that no harm had come to him
+after all.
+
+"It was wholly a false report, August, but it made me miserable for some
+hours."
+
+"Not wholly false," he said, as he toyed with a diamond ring that
+glittered on her finger. "I was thrown out and injured, but not very
+badly. I came here just as soon after the accident as possible to
+alleviate your fears."
+
+"Oh, how good you are."
+
+"This ring," he said, seeming to wish to avoid the subject of the
+accident. "A genuine diamond, is it not?"
+
+"Certainly. Have you forgotten--"
+
+"That it was my own gift. No, darling, but I believe I have forgotten the
+cost," he said, quickly.
+
+She stared at him in astonishment.
+
+Then she burst into a laugh.
+
+"How absent-minded you have become," she declared. "I fear that accident
+injured your brain, August."
+
+"It's barely possible," he said, forcing a laugh.
+
+"Why, you goose, you know that ring was a present from papa on my last
+birthday, and he said it was worth a good thousand. How could you
+forget?"
+
+"Surely, how could I?" he returned, with a glittering eye. "I--I don't
+feel just right, that's a fact."
+
+"And it may have been very imprudent for you to come out so soon after
+your fall," evincing anxiety.
+
+"Oh, no; I guess not," was his light reply. He lifted her hand again.
+
+"It's your ring you miss?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She rose and went to a little stand, from a drawer taking a golden
+circlet, and resuming her seat once more.
+
+"Why do you not wear it?"
+
+"It's a little large."
+
+"Indeed. Permit me to take it. I will bring you another that you can
+wear."
+
+She resigned the ring to his keeping.
+
+"And this one. How beautiful!" he exclaimed, turning the diamond ring
+about on her finger.
+
+"Strange you never noticed it's beauty before."
+
+"Well, you know I've been too deeply absorbed in the owner."
+
+Then he slipped the ring from her finger and held it up to the light.
+
+"Well, it _is_ a beauty!" he murmured, toying with it as a delighted boy
+might with a new plaything.
+
+"I thought you did not admire diamonds?"
+
+"Well, can't a person change their opinions?
+
+"Certainly, but--"
+
+"Ah, that pain again!" exclaimed the engineer, clasping his stomach
+suddenly and groaning.
+
+"Oh, August, you are hurt, in pain, and trying to keep it from me!" she
+cried in alarm.
+
+"It's a mere nothing, but--but have you any, brandy in the house? I feel
+that I need something of the kind."
+
+He seemed trying to smother his distress, and this caused poor Rose to
+grow pale with alarm.
+
+She sprang up at once.
+
+"I believe there is a flask of brandy in the pantry; I will go for it."
+
+"If you only would."
+
+She passed out quickly.
+
+In about ten minutes she returned having a flask and glass.
+
+"I feel much better," he said, "but I will taste the spirits since it may
+prevent a recurrence of that ugly pain."
+
+He tossed off a rather ample glass of the liquid, and declared that he
+felt twenty per cent better.
+
+"If you weren't a strict temperance man I should think that you liked
+brandy," said Rose, with an amused laugh.
+
+"I'm temperate to the backbone save when it's necessary to use liquor as
+a medicine," and he laughed, too, in unison with Rose.
+
+She placed the flask and empty glass on the little stand.
+
+"I must return now, Rose. I don't feel that I ought to remain out late
+to-night."
+
+"Well, I hope you will not suffer from the effects of the accident."
+
+"No danger. That diamond ring, Rose. I dropped it and can't just put my
+finger on it. Will you help me find it?"
+
+He peered under the couch and chair.
+
+"Never mind, August, I can find it in the morning."
+
+He rose up then, kissed her good-night, and hurried away.
+
+The next morning, when Rose came to look for the diamond ring, it was not
+to be found. She went to the stand and opened it; her case that held a
+set of diamond bracelets was there, open but empty.
+
+Rose Alstine uttered a great cry.
+
+Her diamond bracelets, valued at five thousand dollars were gone!
+
+What did it mean?
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+                           THE BOWLEGS SALOON.
+
+
+The saloon of Billy Bowlegs was a low resort, and Detective Keene
+realized that it was not a safe place for a member of his profession were
+he recognized by any of the law-breakers who frequented the place.
+
+The detective was deeply puzzled with regard to August Bordine. He could
+not remove from his mind the idea that the young engineer was the same
+man who visited that woman, his wife, apparently, in another part of the
+city. It seemed that the young man was playing a double game.
+
+"He has befriended me, and I will not move against him until I make sure,
+hereafter," thought Keene. "He has an estimable mother, and it seems a
+shame that he should be such a villain. It will break her heart, I
+believe, when she comes to know what a scoundrel she has for a son. I
+will investigate this mixed state of affairs thoroughly before I jump at
+conclusions. It is barely possible that I was a little premature last
+night."
+
+The detective wandered about the city in disguise during the greater part
+of the day, but made no discoveries, save only that he saw the tramp,
+Perry Jounce, pass down and enter Bowleg's saloon in the early part of
+the day.
+
+Late in the afternoon an elderly looking gentleman, in the office of the
+Golden Lion, purchased an evening paper and began perusing the locals.
+
+
+                                "RUNAWAY.
+
+"While Mr. August Bordine was driving down the street, near the depot,
+his horse became frightened at a passing train and ran. Mr. Bordine was
+hurled out against a telegraph pole and severely injured. He was removed
+to his home by a friend. At the hour of going to press we have not been
+able to obtain further particulars."
+
+
+After reading this, the old gentleman came to his feet.
+
+He passed from the hotel, and turned his steps in the direction of the
+Bordine cottage.
+
+In a little time he was ringing the door-bell.
+
+"You wish to see my son?" queried the old lady who opened the door.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He is not able to see visitors."
+
+"He is badly hurt, then?"
+
+"Mother, tell the gentleman to come in," called a voice from the cozy
+front room, and so the visitor was permitted to go before the engineer.
+
+"Ah, beg pardon, but I thought that it was a friend," uttered the pale
+young man, who sat in the great armchair, propped by pillows.
+
+"My voice sounded familiar?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And I am a friend," cried the old gentleman, at the same time removing
+hat and wig.
+
+"Silas Keene!" exclaimed Bordine.
+
+"Good lord, who'd a thought it?" interjected the motherly widow, with
+upraised hands.
+
+"Only a bit of disguise," laughed the detective. "I adopt such
+frequently. It sometimes becomes highly necessary you know, Mr. Bordine."
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"I saw a notice of your injury in the evening paper and hastened here at
+once."
+
+"Thanks. You are very kind," returned the young engineer. "I assure you
+it is nothing serious, but may lay me on the stocks for a day or two. I
+meant to assist you to-night, but, as you see, now, it is wholly out of
+the question."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Have you made any discoveries?"
+
+"None of consequence."
+
+"We are no nearer the solution of the murder mystery than ever," muttered
+Bordine. "I think, if you succeed in arresting Perry Jounce, you may
+wring something from him. He is a low villain, and would as lief commit a
+murder as eat."
+
+"Yes. I mean to look after the scoundrel to-night."
+
+"Don't attempt to do anything alone, Keene."
+
+"I think there is little danger."
+
+"But that tramp may have discovered his mistake by this time. He
+undoubtedly mistook me for another person, as _you_ did last night."
+
+"True."
+
+The detective eyed the engineer keenly.
+
+If this young man was a dissembler he was certainly a keen one.
+
+"You will be on your guard?"
+
+"Certainly," with a smile. "I have trailed too many criminals to their
+lair to fear now."
+
+"One thing more," as the detective rose to go. "I want you to consider my
+house open to you at all times during your stay in Grandon."
+
+"Thank you. I will not forget it."
+
+And then the detective was gone.
+
+"What a strange man," remarked Mrs. Bordine.
+
+"Yes," agreed August. "I have heard of him as a great detective, and I
+hope that he will prove his name good in this instance. Surely it does
+seem as though this murder mystery might be cleared up. Of course there
+may be no evidence to convict him, yet it seems plain to me that Perry
+Jounce, the tramp, is the guilty man."
+
+"I should think they'd arrest him at any rate."
+
+"I am of the opinion that it would be good policy."
+
+In the meantime Silas Keene had resumed his disguise and returned to the
+Golden Lion. He remained here until after darkness fell, then, going
+outside, he secreted a revolver and set of handcuffs on his person, and
+congratulated himself that he was ready to pay the saloon of Billy
+Bowlegs a visit.
+
+He counseled with a member of the police force afterward.
+
+"I'm going to make an onset to-night, at Bowleg's saloon, and I want you
+to be within call in case I should need you," explained the detective, at
+the same time revealing his badge of office. "There's money in it if
+you're alert, my friend."
+
+What member of the force could resist such an inducement?
+
+Silas Keene sauntered down the narrow street leading to the saloon in
+question, paused for a moment on the threshold, then passed in.
+
+Soon a man in blue halted in the shadows without, and waited
+developments. He expected that the detective would soon give the signal
+for assistance, but the police officer waited in vain.
+
+Slowly the minutes passed.
+
+An hour drew its length along, and then, becoming impatient, the man of
+clubs walked into the saloon.
+
+Two men were drinking at the bar, and from beyond a screen came the sound
+of voices, where numerous gamesters were engaged in play.
+
+Billy Bowlegs was himself behind the bar. He seemed to recognize the
+officer, for he nodded and set out a decanter of brandy and shoved it
+toward him.
+
+After drinking the officer said:
+
+"An old gentleman entered a short time since. I had my eye on him, and
+would like to see him."
+
+"Man with long hair, and one eye?"
+
+"No. A real gentleman, with gray hair and beard."
+
+"Seems 's though I do remember seeing such a chap," uttered the
+barkeeper. "How long ago was it?"
+
+"Nearly an hour."
+
+"Probably he went away."
+
+"Not by the front door."
+
+"Eh! Then you've been watching him? Suspicious character, eh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You can look through the rooms."
+
+Billy Bowlegs led the way behind the screen.
+
+Half a dozen men sat playing at the tables, as many more smoking and
+reclining on settees at the side of the room.
+
+The air was thick with smoke, yet the keen glance of the police officer
+showed that his friend, the detective, was not present.
+
+"Strange!" muttered the officer.
+
+"He doubtless went out the side door," and Billy Bowlegs pointed to a
+narrow door at the side of the room.
+
+"Possibly."
+
+The officer was not the brightest member of the force, and believing that
+he had been sold by the old man who had pretended to be a detective, the
+guardian of the night returned to the bar-room, partook or another horn
+of brandy, and then passed out upon the street.
+
+"Sold!" he muttered, angrily, as he strode from the dangerous vicinity.
+
+Meantime what _had_ occurred to detain Silas Keene so long?
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XI.
+
+                               ENTRAPPED!
+
+
+When Silas Keene, the New York detective, entered the bar-room, his
+glances met no familiar face. The tramp had been thoroughly described to
+Keene, so that he felt that he should know the fellow the moment his
+glances fell upon him.
+
+The detective did not know that his man was on the lookout for him.
+
+It will be remembered that a man had been listening through an open
+window to the conversation between the detective and August Bordine in
+the early morning.
+
+That man was no less a personage than Andrew Barkswell, whose strong
+resemblance to the young engineer had so complicated affairs. He, of
+course, preferred to meet the detective in a way that the latter little
+suspected.
+
+Keene sauntered into the card room, after partaking of a cigar.
+
+While here watching the players, a hand touched his arm.
+
+"Be you lookin' for somebody, mister?"
+
+Keene looked into a dark, repulsive face, and at once recognized the man
+who had been described as the tramp, Perry Jounce.
+
+"Yes," returned the detective.
+
+"Who mout it be?"
+
+Bending to the man's ear, Keene whispered the name of Barkswell.
+
+"Loud o' liberty!" exclaimed Jounce, "I was expectin' him, too."
+
+"When did you meet him last?"
+
+"'Bout this time last night."
+
+"Exactly; on a vacant lot--?"
+
+"Eh?"
+
+The tramp started and evinced alarm.
+
+"Don't worry, old fellow," uttered the detective in a low voice. "I know
+all about it, my friend. You were to meet a gentleman here by
+appointment?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am the man."
+
+"You?" incredulously.
+
+"Yes. Mr. Barkswell couldn't come, and so he sent me to take his place. I
+would like mighty well to see you in private for a few minutes."
+
+"I kin fix that."
+
+Jounce left the room, going to the bar-room for a minute. The detective
+didn't mean to lose sight of his man, so he managed to watch him from a
+convenient position behind the screen.
+
+He saw him procure a key from Billy Bowlegs, and whisper something in his
+ear. Then he came swiftly back to his room beyond the screen.
+
+"I'll find a quiet place whar we won't be disturbed, pardner," uttered
+Perry Jounce, at the same time leading the way to a small screen that
+seemed to be tucked back in the corner to be out of the way. Turning
+this, a narrow door was revealed.
+
+Unlocking this, guide and detective passed through, and stood in total
+darkness.
+
+The detective was resolved to learn from this man all he could about
+Andrew Barkswell before he placed him under arrest, and it was for this
+reason that he seemed to fall in with his wishes so condescendingly.
+
+In the darkness, with the sound of the key grating in the lock as Jounce
+secured the door. Silas Keene became slightly nervous for the first time.
+
+Might he not be walking into a trap? It was possible, and yet it did not
+seem probable, since this man could not know who he was.
+
+Keene clutched the butt of his revolver with one hand and waited
+developments with considerable anxiety.
+
+"Come on, pard."
+
+Then Jounce led the way down a dark and narrow passage to another door,
+which he pushed open.
+
+"Go in, boss."
+
+The detective hesitated.
+
+Noticing it the tramp strode on in advance, struck a match and lit a gas
+jet that stood out from the wall.
+
+"A pokerish place," said Keene, as he followed Jounce into the room and
+gazed about him.
+
+"Its private anyhow," returned the burly fellow with a laugh.
+
+There could be no disputing this fact.
+
+A round table occupied the center of a small room, with a chair on either
+side of it. A pack of cards and decanter of liquor occupied the center of
+the table, also a couple of glasses.
+
+"Everything as snug's pigs in clover," chuckled Jounce. "This ere's the
+boss' private room, where he entertains peticler guests. Them as wants a
+private confab comes in here."
+
+"Indeed."
+
+One fact the detective noted, the room had no window, and was evidently
+entirely within the building. Not a sound from without, or from the
+barroom penetrated the place.
+
+Jounce locked the door, an unnecessary precaution, the detective thought,
+and threw himself into one of the chairs.
+
+"Sit down, pardner. We kin confab here without bein' disturbed, you bet
+yer buttons."
+
+"I should think so," was the dry response.
+
+"Help yerself to refreshments."
+
+Jounce tapped the bottle with a dirty finger.
+
+Keene, however, was wise enough not to indulge. He saw before him but one
+man, and if treachery was meditated, he believed himself a match for this
+one easily.
+
+"Now, then, perceed."
+
+"First, Mr. Jounce, we'd best come to an understanding," declared the
+disguised detective.
+
+"Sartin, sir."
+
+"You expected to meet my friend Barkswell tonight?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"For what purpose?"
+
+"Didn't he tell yer?"
+
+"It was about the payment of money?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"For what service?"
+
+"Don't yer know?"
+
+Jounce leaned his face between his hands and grinned.
+
+"For the murder of the detective from New York, Sile Keene?"
+
+"Putty nigh it; but you call it by a hard name, stranger. Did the kurnel
+send the rhino?"
+
+"The colonel?"
+
+"I mean Andy Barkswell, of course."
+
+"He wanted to make sure that you had completed the job."
+
+"Why, condum it, wasn't he thar? What more could he ax?"
+
+"Nothing, so far as Keene is concerned."
+
+"Wal?"
+
+The detective realized that he was treading on dangerous ground, yet he
+resolved to risk it.
+
+"It's about that other affair."
+
+"The t'other affair?"
+
+"Over at Ridgewood."
+
+"What the Satan you drivin' at, pardner?"
+
+"You ought to know."
+
+"Speak right out plain, pardner, and don't beat about ther bush," growled
+the tramp, showing his teeth.
+
+"Well, it's that little affair about the girl that died so suddenly over
+at Ransom Vane's. You haven't forgotten that, of course?"
+
+"Of course not."
+
+The ugly eyes of the tramp regarded the disguised detective in a way that
+was not pleasant.
+
+Was the tramp really the guilty person in that tragedy? If so, how much
+or how little did Andrew Barkswell know of the affair? The letter that
+had been found with the dead girl would indicate that she had been on
+somewhat intimate terms with either Barkswell or Bordine. As yet Keene
+was not satisfied as to the identity of the two. He resolved to make a
+bold venture at the present time, and learn if possible what there was to
+know or at least how much the tramp knew on the subject.
+
+"It seems that our friend Andrew isn't exactly satisfied with the way you
+bungled that job."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"You left too many straws for the beaks to take hold of." A low, gutteral
+laugh was the only answer vouchsafed to this by Mr. Perry Jounce.
+
+"You know the job was a botch?"
+
+"I don't know nothin' about it."
+
+"Well, anyhow, Andrew does, and he refuses to pay a cent until somebody
+goes up for the murder of that girl. Do you understand?"
+
+"No, I don't!"
+
+The eyes of the tramp still fixed themselves in an ugly glow on the
+countenance of Keene.
+
+"Well, so long as the hounds are on the scent there's danger to Andrew,
+that to you must be plain enough; and danger to yourself as well. Now,
+why not fix the crime on some one, and thus make it safe for Andrew and
+you beyond peradventure? That is the plan, and until that is carried out
+my friend Barkswell doesn't propose to pay out any money."
+
+"And he wants me to fix that thing of killin' the gal onto an innersent
+man."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Good land, what does he take me for?"
+
+"A man who is ready to work on any line for money."
+
+"Wal, when he pays me fur puttin' a head on Sile Keene, then I'll look to
+'tother biz. But I hain't no fool, and I reckin' you ain't 'goin' cordin'
+to orders from Andy!"
+
+"Why do you think so?"
+
+"Because, sense he didn't kill the gal, why shu'd he keer 'bout gittin'
+someone else in the limbo. Partner, you ain't sharp."
+
+"I may not be. Of course Andrew didn't kill the girl, but he knows who
+did, and--"
+
+"Does he? Then somebody's peached."
+
+"Not necessary. Andy Barkswell's not a fool, Mr. Jounce."
+
+"No?"
+
+The look on the tramp's face was comical in the extreme.
+
+The detective believed the hour for action had come. He had been anxious
+to get from his companion a confession, but it seemed the fellow was too
+shrewd to give himself away.
+
+"Of course he knows that you put the girl out of the world--"
+
+"That's a lie."
+
+"What?"
+
+The detective was on his feet in an instant.
+
+"I say that's a lie! I didn't tech a hair o' Victory Vane's head, but I
+know _who_ did."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I aint a-goin' to tell you, _Sile Keene!_"
+
+The tramp came to his feet and bent threateningly across the table.
+
+"Ha! you know me?"
+
+The detective whipped out his revolver.
+
+"Too late, pardner!"
+
+There was a horrible grin on the face of Perry Jounce. On the instant an
+object shot from above full upon the head of Keene, and he sank lifeless
+to his chair!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII.
+
+                         A YOUNG GIRL'S DISMAY.
+
+
+Robbed of her precious jewels!
+
+No wonder Rose Alstine was dismayed.
+
+How had the robber gained entrance to her room?
+
+An examination of the windows, in fact all openings to the house, proved
+them intact, and yet the fact remained that the robbery had been
+committed.
+
+Miss Alstine sent word to the chief of police, who came at once, looked
+over the premises, and promised to use every effort to discover the
+burglar.
+
+Rose never once thought of her lover in connection with such a crime.
+
+It was Miss Williamson who first called her attention to her visitor.
+
+"There's no telling what men will do, cousin Rose."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" demanded the heiress quickly.
+
+"I mean that it is easy enough accounting for the loss of your jewels."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Your friend, Mr. Bordine borrowed them, doubtless to tide over a
+financial difficulty."
+
+"Janet!"
+
+"Well, you can't trust these men."
+
+"But you shall not insult August with such insinuations," cried Rose,
+reddening indignantly.
+
+"Well, he was your only visitor. If a burglar had entered the house there
+would be some signs by which you could determine how he gained your room.
+None exist, so I say that it was undoubtedly that lover of yours who
+borrowed his lady's jewels."
+
+And then Miss Williams gave vent to a tantalizing laugh, that only served
+to roil the feelings of Rose more deeply than ever.
+
+"You ugly girl!" exclaimed Rose, "I ought to turn you out of this house
+for such vile aspersions. I won't, however, for I know you are only doing
+this to tease me."
+
+"After all it is true."
+
+"You don't believe any such thing, Janet."
+
+"Yes I do."
+
+Rose left her cousin, hot with indignation. She went to her mother, a
+weak invalid, who had no consolation to offer. That was not in her line.
+The word peevish would pretty well describe the condition of Mrs.
+Alstine, who had a chronic ailment that prevented her enjoying the
+hospitality of friends.
+
+Two days passed with no solution of the mystery.
+
+And during the time August Bordine did not come to the Alstine house. For
+this there was good reason. He was not yet able to move about comfortably
+on account of his hurt. He read of the burglary in the morning paper, and
+wondered if the police would prove any more successful in capturing the
+burglars than they had in elucidating the Ridgewood murder mystery.
+
+After the passage of twenty-four hours the young engineer became not a
+little anxious with regard to Silas Keene.
+
+The detective had promised to report before now, his visit to the saloon
+and interview Perry Jounce, the tramp.
+
+"Why did he not come?"
+
+"I can't stand this much longer," murmured August, as he sat still under
+the burden of pain, waiting for some news from Keene.
+
+Rose Alstine was not a strong-minded female, yet she possessed a will of
+her own, and once she set her mind on an object she was destined to
+obtain it or make a desperate effort at least.
+
+A sudden resolve entered her mind to visit the home of August Bordine and
+consult with him on the mysterious burglary.
+
+No sooner thought of than the impetuous girl proceeded to carry it into
+effect. She took a street car to the suburbs, and then, with directions
+from the driver, set out to find the house of Mr. Bordine, which she had
+never visited.
+
+These were among dwellings in Grandon similar to the one occupied by
+August Bordine and his mother.
+
+In a little time the girl came to a halt in front of a cottage.
+
+"This must be the place," thought Rose, opening the gate.
+
+She went to the front door and rung the bell. No answer was vouchsafed,
+and concluding that no one was at home, Rose turned to retrace her steps,
+when she espied a summer-house at a little distance, from which the
+murmur of voices proceeded.
+
+The house was almost hidden by dense foliage.
+
+"August and his mother are out yonder, it seems," thought Rose. "I will
+go to them, and give August a glad surprise." Then, with a light heart,
+the maiden tripped down a grass-lined path toward the summer-house.
+
+She was to encounter a scene she little expected. Soon she was in the
+vicinity of the cool bower where August and his mother had retired for
+friendly chat.
+
+"Don't speak that way, Andrew; it hurts me."
+
+It was the voice of a woman, and involuntarily the steps of Rose Alstine
+halted. Could that be her lover's mother thus addressing her son? The
+girl was too deeply excited to notice that the name uttered was not that
+of her lover.
+
+Moving on, Rose soon stood where she could gaze into the summer-house.
+Then she came to a halt. It was a picture that poor Rose never forgot--
+that presented to her at that moment.
+
+She saw two persons in the little leaf-embowered room--a man and young
+woman.
+
+The latter stood with hand clasped about the neck of the young man, who
+was handsome in the extreme. Was there a handsomer man in Grandon than
+August Bordine?
+
+Rose did not believe it, and there he stood with that woman's arms
+about his neck, her pale face upturned to his, the light of a pleading,
+all-enduring love in her dark eyes.
+
+It was a love scene in every sense of the word.
+
+Rose shuddered and grew white, yet she dared not advance, dared not
+interrupt the scene presented to her gaze. Eavesdropping was foreign to
+her nature, yet at that moment it was not in her power to recede, and so
+she was held in her tracks--compelled to listen to words that rent her
+heart like death itself.
+
+"My dear, you wrong me when you imagine that I care for any one but you.
+I did disapprove of your following me here, for you know that I must
+depend upon my wits for a living, and I think I might do better without
+the incumbrance of a wife."
+
+"Oh, that is the same old argument. You have put me off with it time and
+again. I wish you would consent to do as other people do, and live an
+honest life."
+
+"But I cannot. I must ever appear as a single man, for it would not do to
+let it be known that I have a wife. Zounds, Iris, I would be out of
+business in short order."
+
+For some moments silence followed these words.
+
+The rather pretty woman whom the gentleman had termed his wife still
+clung to the neck of her liege lord, evidently too much wrought up to
+speak again.
+
+"Come now, Iris dear, let this scene end here and now. I have a little
+business of a most important nature on hand, and time is precious."
+
+He tried to disengage her hands, but she clung to him with wonderful
+tenacity.
+
+Neither saw the girl in the shadow of the vines outside, who regarded the
+twain with blanched cheeks, clasped hands, and eyes dilating with a weird
+and awful suffering.
+
+"Time is precious," uttered the lips of the young wife. "Alas! that it
+should be so precious that you must needs neglect me. I wish to ask you a
+question, Andrew."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Did you have aught to do with this robbery at the Alstine mansion?"
+
+"Sh! my dear, that would be telling."
+
+"I know you were up there two nights since."
+
+"Ah, you were dogging my steps."
+
+"No, but--"
+
+"I cannot permit this to go on, Iris," uttered the man, sternly. "You are
+ruining my business, Iris. I do wish you would return to New York."
+
+"I will go when you go."
+
+"Not before?"
+
+"Not before."
+
+Then fell a silence. There was a worried, half-angry expression on the
+countenance of the man, that did not escape the notice of the girl, who,
+in spite of her inclination, was a listener to all that was taking place
+within the walls of the summer-house.
+
+"Release me now, I must go," uttered the man, in accents that were harsh
+and stern.
+
+Still the woman clung to his neck.
+
+"Oh, my darling, my darling!" she wailed, half-sobbing in the strength of
+her emotion. "You must not go from me again, Andrew. I am your wife, and
+you have no right to flirt with other women!"
+
+Seizing her hands, he tore them loose and flung her violently aside.
+
+"This is enough of this foolishness," he declared, angrily. "I want you
+to remain here in seclusion and behave yourself. When I can settle down
+with a fortune, then I will acknowledge you before the world, and we will
+cut a swell; but let me tell you that if you envoke any further trouble
+simply because I visit other ladies occasionally, you will hear from me
+in a way that you little expect."
+
+[Illustration: "OH, MY DARLING--MY DARLING!" SHE WAILED, HALF SOBBING IN
+THE STRENGTH OF HER EMOTION.]
+
+The woman sank to a seat and covered her face with her hands, while a
+groan escaped her lips.
+
+One glance he cast at her, then he turned and strode from the place.
+Another instant and he stood facing Rose Alstine, whose pallid face and
+flowing eyes quite startled him. "Heavens! you here?" he ejaculated,
+settling back in a tremor of dismay.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIII.
+
+                     THE DETECTIVE'S LAST STRUGGLE.
+
+
+Perry Jounce uttered a grunt of satisfaction when he saw that the
+detective was beyond power to know him for the time.
+
+Jounce had been thoroughly posted by Andrew Barkswell, and knew that in
+the disguised man before him the noted detective was presented.
+
+"So," muttered Jounce, as he touched a spring with his foot that sent the
+weight back to its place in the ceiling, "I reckon you won't trouble us
+gents agin."
+
+Then he went over to the side of the stunned detective, secured his arms
+and removed his beard and gray hair. "Thought you was sharp enough to
+fool me," chuckled the villain. "I reckin you'll l'arn ef you ever git
+yer mind agin, that two kin play at ther game o' twist."
+
+After these movements the tramp left the room. He was gone but a short
+time when he returned, accompanied by Billy Bowlegs.
+
+"So you've thumped him?" muttered the saloon proprietor. "How much did
+you find?"
+
+"Notting."
+
+"See here, chum, that's too gauzy."
+
+"Didn't ther boss pay yer a good hundred fer this room?" questioned
+Jounce, turning upon Bowlegs.
+
+"He hasn't paid it yet. I'm not going to permit any snap games. This
+fellow doesn't go out of here till you pay the full price."
+
+"That's ther snap!" returned Jounce. "You jest hang onter ther cuss, will
+yer? He ain't no good to me," and then the tramp chuckled audibly.
+
+"But I can make you trouble."
+
+"Kin yer?"
+
+"Yes, I can."
+
+"All right; heave ahead."
+
+The saloon-keeper found that he was dealing with a man who was not to be
+frightened or deceived into paying over money unnecessarily.
+
+"Never mind," he said, finally. "It's all right. You wish to dispose of
+this fellow effectually?"
+
+"In course."
+
+"I've never permitted bloodshed in my house," proceeded Billy Bowlegs,
+"but I'll tell you what we will do. We will drop the fellow down to the
+lower room, and leave him until the boss comes; then his fate will be
+decided upon."
+
+"That suits me."
+
+Bowlegs touched a spring with his foot, and the chair containing the
+stunned detective sank from sight.
+
+The tramp stared at the opening in the floor wonderingly.
+
+"I declare!" he finally exclaimed, "you've got this thing in shape to
+work to perfection, pardner."
+
+The saloon-keeper smiled without reply.
+
+"Where's the chap gone ter?"
+
+"He is safe," answered Bowlegs. "I'll excuse you now."
+
+"Wal, I swar, that are's cool."
+
+Nevertheless the tramp departed. At the bar he swallowed a huge glass of
+brandy, and then passed upon the street.
+
+From this it will be seen that Billy Bowlegs was in league with the
+notorious scoundrel who is known to the reader as Andrew Barkswell.
+
+This, it will be remembered, was on the same night that the robbery was
+committed at the Alstine mansion.
+
+When the detective returned to consciousness he found himself in a small,
+dark room, with solid walls of masonry about him, a close prisoner.
+
+There was an awful pain in his head, indicating that he had been struck a
+severe blow.
+
+He felt over his person, to discover that his weapons had been taken from
+him.
+
+Then, with an effort, he came to his feet, and began groping about the
+room. Solid walls on every side met his touch.
+
+"Well," he finally muttered, "I have learned one thing at least to-night
+--the fools of this world are not all dead. One of them, however, came
+pretty close to it."
+
+It seemed an age to the imprisoned detective before the creaking of a
+door announced the coming of some one.
+
+The door opened and closed, and a light filled the room, proceeding from
+a lantern in the hand of a man. This did not prove a brilliant
+illuminator, yet it served to reveal the countenance of the new-comer
+fairly well.
+
+"So you are safely caged at last, my dear Keene," said the visitor, in a
+sarcastic voice.
+
+"And this is your work, August Bordine, after all the confidence I placed
+in you," uttered the detective, in a rebuking voice.
+
+"It was merely a game of wits, Mr. Keene. I was too smart for you, in
+spite of the fact that you're reputed to be the sharpest man-tracker in
+Gotham. I think it would pay you to hire me for a spell."
+
+"This, then, was a put-up job?"
+
+"That's about the size of it."
+
+"That runaway and injury to yourself that the papers speak about was only
+a blind?"
+
+"Only a blind, my dear Keene."
+
+The villain smiled and stroked his mustache complacently. "I don't mind
+telling you, seeing you're not likely to give me any further trouble,
+that I shall marry the heiress to the Alstine estates and quit the
+precarious work that I have all along been following, and hereafter live
+a gentleman."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+The detective could not help admiring the villain's coolness, even while
+despising his villainy.
+
+"You congratulate me on my plan?"
+
+"No. You cannot carry it out."
+
+"And why not, pray? You won't be there to interfere, Mr. Keene. I have
+provided against such a contingency."
+
+"You have a wife living."
+
+"So you imagine, so _she_ imagines; but it is a mere show. Iris is not my
+wife."
+
+"You deceived her with a mock marriage?"
+
+"That is about the size of it."
+
+"What a consummate scoundrel."
+
+"Don't use such pet expressions, my dear Keene, you hurt my feelings, you
+really do, I assure you."
+
+"I expect to hurt your neck some time," retorted the detective, curtly.
+
+"Oh, you do? Let me tell you, Mr. Keene, that that time will never come
+to you, never."
+
+"It may come sooner than you imagine."
+
+"I'll risk that."
+
+"I would like to ask you a question."
+
+"Go on."
+
+"How about that old lady who occupies your house on ---- street? Is she
+your mother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Does she know what a scoundrel she has for a son?"
+
+"She has no knowledge of my private affairs," returned Barkswell, not
+seeming to notice the offensive manner of putting the question used by
+Keene.
+
+"And Iris is not your wife?"
+
+"That's what I said."
+
+"And Miss Alstine knows nothing of this, of your plans, your scheming to
+win a fortune through her?"
+
+"Certainly not. I haven't been fool enough to give myself away."
+
+The detective remained silent for a moment. Then he looked sharply into
+the face of Barkswell and said:
+
+"I am puzzled to know why you saved me from the tramp last night, and
+took me to your home and nursed me so tenderly. Since you are so anxious
+to have me out of your way, why did you not leave me to die on the vacant
+lot, or give the finishing stroke there. It would have been the wisest
+plan, it seems to me, for such a reckless villain as you are, to pursue."
+
+A low laugh fell from the lips of Barkswell.
+
+"You do not understand me yet, Mr. Keene. Truth to tell I am one of the
+most tender-hearted creatures in the world. I haven't the heart to strike
+a man when he's down. I sympathized with you, and what is more, I wished
+to blind your eyes to my true intentions. You had put the bracelets on me
+and proclaimed that you were going to lead me to prison. I wanted to
+prove to you that you had made a mistake."
+
+This to the detective seemed a lame explanation. He felt certain that the
+villain before him had not stated the case as it actually was.
+
+"It seems I made no mistake after all," uttered Keene. "You are the right
+person, and I never ought have permitted you to go free an hour after I
+made the discovery of your villainy."
+
+"What discovery do you refer to?"
+
+"The murder of Victoria Vane."
+
+"Then you still hold to the opinion that I committed that deed?"
+
+"Certainly I do."
+
+"Well, see here, Mr. Keene, I have you completely in my power, and do not
+intend that you shall ever again see the light of day. Under such
+circumstances I have no reason for uttering a falsehood. I solemnly
+assure you that I did not harm that poor girl. I am as innocent of that
+as you are. I did flirt with her a little I admit, but there was nothing
+serious took place, I would be willing to swear to this."
+
+Of course the detective did not believe a word of this, although
+Barkswell uttered it in a solemn and apparently sincere manner.
+
+"I believe you will yet swing for that murder," was Keene's sharp reply.
+
+That Barkswell was the forger who was wanted in New York the detective
+was assured. He judged this from a photograph that he had in his
+possession the subject of which, however, had a full beard, and this had
+prevented Keene's recognizing the likeness when he was first introduced
+to Barkswell, alias Bordine, by young Ransom Vane.
+
+It will be seen that the detective still believed that the young engineer
+and Barkswell were one and the same, which goes to prove that the two men
+resembled each other as twin brothers might. It was this resemblance that
+was to produce no end of trouble to all concerned in our story, which, by
+the way, has more of truth in it than most of the fictions of the present
+day.
+
+"Well, you and I cannot agree if we talk all night," said the man with
+the lantern, "so I suppose this interview may as well come to an end at
+once."
+
+From the tone of the man's voice, Keene judged that he meant to
+perpetrate a murder. With hands and limbs free, though weak from the blow
+he had received on the head, Silas Keene was not the man to give up life
+without a struggle.
+
+The moment the last word fell from the lips of Barkswell Keene darted
+forward, full at the throat of the villain before him.
+
+"Thunderation!"
+
+With this exclamation Barkswell dropped his lantern and clinched with the
+detective.
+
+Both went to the floor in a terrible struggle for the mastery.
+
+Weakened though he was, the detective proved no mean adversary, and he
+might have conquered had not a third party appeared upon the scene, who
+at once went to the assistance of Barkswell, and by beating Keene over
+the head with the butt of a revolver he succeeded in quieting him so that
+he could be secured.
+
+Keene, nearly senseless, was rolled upon the damp floor, upon his face,
+and his hands secured with a cord at his back.
+
+"There, I reckon he won't give no more trouble," said a voice that the
+detective recognized as that of Perry Jounce, the tramp.
+
+"Confound his picture," grated Barkswell. "I believe the scamp would have
+been too much for me if you hadn't come just as you did."
+
+"Even the service of a brother-in-law hain't allus to be despised; eh,
+Andrew?"
+
+"No. You did me a good turn just now, and I'll not forget it."
+
+Detective Keene heard these remarks, and tried to profit by them.
+
+"This man is fooling you, Mr. Jounce," cried Keene, faintly.
+
+"Shut up."
+
+This from Barkswell.
+
+"I tell you that this man is fooling you. He is not--"
+
+A blow on the head from the fist of Barkswell effectually silenced the
+tongue of the helpless detective. His senses reeled, and for a few
+minutes he was oblivious of his surroundings.
+
+"What was the feller tryin' to git through him, Andy?"
+
+"Nobody knows. Bear a hand and we'll put him where the hogs won't bite
+him."
+
+Both men laid hold of the bound detective and dragged him to one side of
+the room.
+
+The lantern, that had been overturned in the struggle, still burned,
+giving a faint light. Jounce hung it on a pin in the wall, and then
+turned to his companion, who had lifted a small trap door not far from
+the center of the room.
+
+A gust of damp air, full of a moldy smell, came up.
+
+"What's that?" questioned Jounce.
+
+"An old well. They say it's forty feet down to the mud and water. It
+hasn't been used in years."
+
+"What'll you do--?"
+
+"Drop our friend into it. Nobody'll ever be the wiser."
+
+"Good heavens, what a doom!"
+
+Even the tramp shuddered at the thought of consigning a human being to
+that awful tomb. Nevertheless he assisted Barkswell to lift Keene and
+bear him to the mouth of the well.
+
+An instant later and Detective Keene shot from sight. A hollow cry came
+up, then solemn silence, as Barkswell closed the trap and turned away.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV.
+
+                       IN THE HANDS OF A VILLAIN.
+
+
+It will be remembered that Andrew Barkswell was startled to find that
+Rose Alstine had been listening to the confab between himself and wife.
+This was after the infamous plotter had consigned Detective Keene to a
+horrible doom at the bottom of the old well under Billy Bowlegs' saloon.
+
+Now that the man-tracker was off the trail, Barkswell felt better. He had
+concocted a tremendous plot that his theft of the diamonds came near
+despoiling. It was not his wish to have Rose know of the existence of his
+wife. If necessary, the villain had resolved to put that wife out of the
+way forever.
+
+There never was a plotter less scrupulous than this man, whose smooth
+tongue and jaunty exterior had stood him so well during almost a lifetime
+of villainy.
+
+Now, at one fell stroke, his villainy lay exposed.
+
+He regarded Rose for some moments with painful silence.
+
+"I have found you out at last," cried the maiden, her cheeks flaming, a
+lofty scorn in her great dark eyes.
+
+"Rose, don't misjudge me."
+
+"Misjudge you?"
+
+"Yes; I repeat it, you misjudge me, Rose Alstine."
+
+For some moments she did not speak. Then, of a sudden, she made a
+movement as if to enter the place where this man's wife sat bowed and
+weeping.
+
+He put out his hand.
+
+"Do not go in there."
+
+"Stand aside, sir."
+
+She pushed her way forward in spite of his interference, and stood
+confronting the woman in the summer-house.
+
+A white face, marked with the most intense suffering, was uplifted to the
+gaze of the young girl.
+
+"Are you August Bordine's wife?"
+
+Rose put the question hotly, so full of indignation as scarcely to
+contain herself in calmness.
+
+"His wife?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am Andrew Barkswell's wife, I do not know the parson you mention."
+
+"Indeed! So he has more than one name, the infamous wretch!"
+
+Then, with a great sobbing cry, Rose Alstine turned and fled from the
+place, dropping her veil to hide the haggard woe that reveled on her
+countenance. Slowly Barkswell come back into the presence of his wife.
+
+"And it is thus you would betray me," he said in an angry tone. "Iris, I
+am sorry that you are determined to ruin me."
+
+"Ruin you?"
+
+"That is the word."
+
+"How can you talk that way, Andrew, you who have made my life a hell
+since the hour I first met and loved you. It was that mad and hopeless
+love that has led me to do things that, if they were known, would shock
+the minds of men.
+
+"You know how I have suffered to please you, Barkswell. I almost feel
+that it would be a relief to end all in death."
+
+"I wish you might," he uttered in a heartless tone. "You have been my
+evil genius always, Iris Jounce. It was a sorry day that I married you.
+You deceived me by leading me to believe that you had money."
+
+"I know now that it was for money alone that you married me. I did have
+money, and you spent it, and would now kick me aside, if I would only
+permit it, but I will not, I mean to continue pleading until you consent
+to quit your evil ways and settle down to a quiet home life--"
+
+"Bah!"
+
+"Andrew Barkswell, who was that beautiful girl? One you have deceived, no
+doubt."
+
+"You seem capable of answering your own question," he said, with a sneer.
+
+"Have I answered it correctly?"
+
+"Possibly."
+
+He plucked at his mustache and looked into vacancy. He was deeply
+angered, both with himself and with the woman before him. It was an
+unfortunate thing to have Rose Alstine come upon them as she did.
+
+At that moment the schemer felt like strangling this woman, whose love
+for him, through good and evil report, passed understanding.
+
+"You have not answered my question, Andrew," persisted the wife.
+
+"The lady was Miss Alstine, I think."
+
+"You think?"
+
+"Well, I suppose I _know_ that she is. A very eccentric girl, and
+somewhat flighty in the upper story."
+
+"Crazed?"
+
+"That's about it, Iris."
+
+"And you have been the cause of it?"
+
+There was a look in the woman's eyes at that moment not pleasant to see.
+In fact, even he recoiled from it in evident annoyance and alarm.
+
+This woman had long been his simple tool, doing many things that at one
+time she would have shrunk from in horror and loathing. Andrew Barkswell
+had dragged her down to his own level, and was even now meditating her
+complete destruction. He had never scorned her, or told the truth, that
+she was no longer loved. He understood her nature too well. He pretended
+the most extravagant affection at times, and it was thus that he held her
+confidence, in spite of the facts that bade her hate and despise him.
+
+"No, Iris; you are mistaken," said the man, in answer to the last words
+of his wife. "I have never harmed the girl, nor do I wish to do so. I
+hope you won't borrow any trouble over her."
+
+"I ought not to, I suppose."
+
+And then followed a bitter laugh.
+
+"If you had done as I wished, and remained in Rochester, it would have
+been much better."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"Certainly I do."
+
+"You wish me to return?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"That you may make love to this girl you have the cheek to tell me is
+crazy? Bah! I tell you there's method in her madness. I believe you have
+pretended to be a single man, and that, as you ruined and murdered
+Victoria Vane, you would ruin and slay this beautiful girl. I will not
+permit you to do it!"
+
+"What! You will step in and destroy my plans? By Heaven you shall not! I
+will strangle you first!"
+
+She uttered a terrified scream as he sprang at her, and clutched her
+throat furiously.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XV.
+
+                              HIRAM SHANKS.
+
+
+"Help! Murder!"
+
+It was a startling cry that echoed through the grounds and fell on the
+ear of the man who was passing.
+
+He listened a moment, but the sound was not repeated.
+
+Vaulting the fence, the man hastened in the direction of the
+summer-house.
+
+He soon gained a position where his black eyes took in a somewhat
+startling scene--a tall, slender man bending over the prostrate form of a
+woman, the latter lying still and white on a low, wide bench.
+
+"Have I killed her?" muttered the man, in audible tones. "Well, if I
+have, it is not my fault; she forced me to do it, and--"
+
+He started then, and uttered a great cry. A hand touched his face, and a
+man's visage peered into his.
+
+Instantly the hand of Barkswell sought his hip.
+
+"Don't draw, brother, it's only me."
+
+Barkswell stared in a startled way into the face of the new-comer.
+
+It was indeed Perry Jounce, but he had changed so in the past four and
+twenty hours as to seem like another man.
+
+His beard was gone, and a new hat and suit of clothes altered his
+appearance wonderfully.
+
+"What have you been doing to yourself, Perry?"
+
+"Fixing up so't I kin go sparkin' as well as you, brother darling,"
+returned the tramp, forcing a gurgling laugh. "What's up here? Iris dead
+--_you her murderer!_"
+
+"Don't be a fool, Perry, she's only fainted."
+
+"But I heard her scream murder."
+
+The eyes of Perry Jounce pierced the guilty villain to the quick. If
+there was one being in the wide world whom the miserable tramp loved,
+that person was his sister, the wife of Andrew Barkswell, and the only
+kin he had in the wide world.
+
+"She was in one of her tantrums, that is all."
+
+"Man, I believe you're lyin' now."
+
+"Be careful."
+
+Barkswell drew his revolver.
+
+The threat did not appear to affect Perry Jounce.
+
+"It wouldn't be good fur you ter snap that pistol at me, Andy. I jest
+heard you say't mebbe you had killed her, meanin' Iris. Now what hev you
+ben up to?--let's hear right down quick, or thar'll be a tussle right
+hyar and now."
+
+There was a determined ring in the man's voice not to be mistaken.
+
+Barkswell wished to avoid a quarrel, and so he said with a smile:
+
+"You misunderstood my meaning entirely, Perry. Iris was determined on
+quarreling with me over an unimportant matter. You know she's terribly
+jealous, and she worked herself up into a fainting fit."
+
+Perry Jounce accepted the explanation with a growl. He did not attempt to
+push matters to a crisis. He had received some money from Barkswell, and
+was anxious to keep in with that gentleman.
+
+"Lead the way, pardner, and I'll take her to the house."
+
+Perry Jounce lifted the seemingly lifeless form of his sister in his arms
+and strode from the summer-house.
+
+Barkswell led the way to the cottage, and a little later the woman
+revived. When questioned by Jounce she refused to make any explanation.
+
+"Confound it," growled the tramp, "that man of yours'll kill you some
+time, Iris, and you'll let 'im do it 'ithout making complaint."
+
+"I should not care to see Andrew in prison."
+
+"He may go thar yet."
+
+"Anything new?"
+
+"Somebody's got ter swing fer the crime at Ridgewood; why mayn't it be
+Andy?"
+
+The woman started and grew pale as death.
+
+Her brother thought she was on the point of fainting again.
+
+"Don't worry," he cried, quickly. "It may never be fetched home to Andy."
+
+"Do you believe he is guilty?"
+
+"Don't you?"
+
+He sought to evade the question.
+
+"I--I cannot say. I have thought--"
+
+"That _I_ had a hand in it, eh?"
+
+The eyes of the tramp regarded his sister's face fixedly.
+
+But Mrs. Barkswell refused to make reply. She shuddered and drew her
+shawl about her as though experiencing a sudden chill.
+
+All this time her husband sat on the porch enjoying a cigar, his busy
+brain dwelling on the latest scheme it had conjured up.
+
+It was unfortunate, he thought, Rose Alstine's coming at that inopportune
+moment. He could not understand how it was that she put in an appearance
+at his house.
+
+"She mistook me for her lover, that is evident," he mused. "It was
+unfortunate, and I may now have some trouble in convincing her that I am
+true. It is highly important that August Bordine does not meet her again.
+What a strong resemblance there must be between that man and myself to
+deceive the eyes of love.
+
+"If I could only get rid of my wife and marry the heiress what a grand
+stroke it would be. Well, there's a saying that nothing venture nothing
+gain, and I mean to go in on that principle. I'll win the heiress, but
+first _two_ persons must cease to breathe."
+
+Who these two persons were the reader can readily guess.
+
+While the young schemer sat there smoking and meditating, a queer team
+halted in front of the cottage--a team of dogs attached to a small
+wagon, in which sat a man, with deformed shoulders, and queer little
+face, framed in red hair and beard, a black patch tied over one eye,
+while the other was exceedingly red and inflamed.
+
+"Hello!" called the man from the street.
+
+A smile touched the face of Andrew Barkswell.
+
+"A confounded notion peddler," he muttered, "yet a queer-looking
+specimen."
+
+"Hello!"
+
+At the second call Barkswell rose to his feet and walked out to the gate.
+
+"Be you the man of the house?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Wal, I've got the neatest set o' table-clothes you ever set eyes on.
+Irish linen, direct from the green sod, warranted to be the best article
+of the kind for the money in North America."
+
+"I don't wish any."
+
+"But you'll look at 'em. You're a gentleman; I can tell by the looks of
+your countenance."
+
+"I don't care for any."
+
+"Hair oil, toilet articles, the neatest--"
+
+"You needn't mind showing them," as the little, elderly man sprang out of
+his low wagon and hobbled to the walk with a tin box under his arm.
+
+"Where's the woman--your wife? Mebbe she'd like to look at something."
+
+The man pushed his way through the gate and insisted on entering the
+house.
+
+This was wholly unnecessary Barkswell thought, but he permitted the
+peddler to have his way.
+
+Iris and her brother entered t spread out his wares.
+
+He talked glibly, but was such a repulsive-looking personage as to render
+his long stay objectionable. In order to be rid of him Mrs. Barkswell
+made a small purchase, after which, finding that he could sell nothing
+further, the peddler thrust his wares back into the tin box and shuffled
+out of the room.
+
+"Pretty place you've got here," he remarked, as he stood on the porch and
+gazed about him.
+
+"Yes," admitted Barkswell.
+
+"You own it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Your name is--"
+
+"Bordine."
+
+The man uttered the name involuntarily. He had been acting as Bordine,
+and somehow, he seemed growing into that personage more and more.
+
+"Well, well," grunted the peddler, holding out his hand, "You an' I ought
+to be acquainted. My wife is your own aunt, did you know it?"
+
+Andrew Barkswell regarded the speaker in astonishment. He thought he
+detected an ironical ring in the man's voice, but when he glanced into
+the fellow's face he seemed honest enough, in fact the red eye failed to
+show the least feeling on the subject--the one under the black patch was,
+of course, as unspeakable as the tomb.
+
+"I was not aware of the relationship," said the plotting villain, as he
+clasped the hand of the queer-looking peddler.
+
+"Lor', that's funny."
+
+"You don't live in town?"
+
+"I reckon not. So you don't remember me, August?"
+
+"I can't say that I do."
+
+"You've certainly heard your ma speak of Hiram Shanks, the man that
+married her youngest sister, Lucretia?"
+
+Again the young man shook his head.
+
+"Well, it beats all," grunted Mr. Shanks. "I thought you must have heard
+of me. Since my wife died I've kinder gone to rack and ruin. I ain't the
+man I used to be in my young days, oh no!" with a long-drawn sigh.
+
+"I should judge not."
+
+"Call your ma, August. I know she'll recognize the man that married her
+sister Lucretia."
+
+"Mother isn't at home."
+
+"Bad again. When will she return?"
+
+"Not soon."
+
+"Visitin'?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Would you mind lettin' me stop over night with ye? Hotel bills is
+powerful large, and for the sake of relationship, I think you will let me
+bunk one night. My team won't eat much, and as for me, a crust of bread
+and cup o' tea will set the inner man in good shape."
+
+"I am sorry, but--"
+
+"Oh, no 'pologies. Of course, if you can't keep me it's all right. I'm no
+beggar."
+
+Once more the peddler shook the hand of Mr. Barkswell, and then shuffled
+away. As he passed through the gate a bit of paper fluttered to the
+ground from one of the peddler's pockets. After the queer fellow's
+departure Barkswell secured the paper and could scarcely repress an
+exclamation as he read the lines it contained.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVI.
+
+                          THE ENGINEER PUZZLED.
+
+
+A young man ran up the steps at the Alstine mansion and rang the bell.
+The servant who answered stared at the gentleman as though there was some
+noticeable curiosity about him.
+
+There was nothing curious, however, in the make-up of the gentleman.
+
+He was young and handsome, and the reader knows him as August Bordine,
+the young engineer.
+
+The young man had been laid up for more than a week by the hurt he had
+received when his horse ran away.
+
+He had seen or heard nothing of Rose during this time.
+
+The unaccountable absence of the detective troubled the young man not a
+little as well, and he resolved to make an investigation immediately.
+
+"Is Miss Alstine at home?"
+
+The servant answered in the affirmative, and showed the young gentleman
+to the elegant parlor.
+
+Usually Rose received him in person, thus doing away with the ceremony of
+servants.
+
+She was not expecting him.
+
+This of course accounted for her not coming at once to meet him.
+
+Ten minutes passed, and then the maid returned.
+
+August looked up, expecting to see the smiling face of Rose.
+
+"Miss Alstine can't receive visitors."
+
+"Is she ill?" questioned the young man in sudden alarm.
+
+"No, she's as well as usual."
+
+"Did you tell her who called?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The face of the young engineer was a puzzle to look at.
+
+He refused to depart until the maid went once more to see her mistress.
+
+On her return she brought a note from Rose, that was as great a puzzle to
+the engineer as was the curious acting of his betrothed.
+
+
+"MR. BORDINE:--There can be no necessity for an interview. No
+explanation you can make will sunder the facts. I beg you not to come
+again, as, under no circumstances, will I consent to see you. Your coming
+now assures me that you have impudence as well as a double nature.
+R. ALSTINE."
+
+
+The young man walked from the room like one in a dream.
+
+What did, what could it all mean? It was impossible for August to
+understand.
+
+His was a dejected mien as he walked slowly homeward. A pair of bright
+eyes watched him from a curtained upper window of the great house, and in
+a maiden's heart was the suddenest longing possible to one broken under
+the cruel treachery of its hero.
+
+"What is the trouble, August?" questioned Mrs. Bordine the moment he
+entered the presence of his mother.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Ah, you cannot deceive me in that way, my son. I know something is
+wrong, and--"
+
+"Yes, something is wrong," he interrupted with bitter vehemence. "I have
+been spat upon by a girl, and never until now did I realize what a fool I
+was to think of losing my heart to a flirt like Rose Alstine."
+
+"August, what do you mean?"
+
+"That Rose has jilted me."
+
+"I am glad of it."
+
+"Mother!"
+
+"I always warned you not to look so high," proceeded the old lady, with
+arms akimbo, regarding her son. "Not that I consider Rose Alstine high
+only in money matters, but such girls are always heartless."
+
+Then she went back to her work leaving the young man to fight out his
+grief as best he could alone.
+
+That evening, while the young engineer sat meditating over the events of
+the past few days, a sharp ring at the door-bell roused him from his
+somewhat bitter thoughts.
+
+He went into the hall, opened the door, and peered out into the
+dimly-lighted street.
+
+No one was to be seen, but a small bit of folded paper fell at his feet,
+evidently having been but slightly attached to the edge of the casing.
+
+Seizing the paper, the young man closed the door and went back to the
+cozy cottage parlor.
+
+"Who was it, August?"
+
+But just then the young man was too busy imbibing the contents of the bit
+of paper to heed the words of his mother.
+
+
+"MR. BORDINE--Be ever on the alert. A conspiracy has been formed for
+your destruction. It is time you were up and doing. Silas Keene has
+already fallen, and you have been marked. I implore you, be on your
+guard.
+
+"A. FRIEND."
+
+
+After a moment given to thought, August handed the note over to his
+mother.
+
+"What does it mean?"
+
+This was her comment after she had possessed herself of the contents of
+the mysterious note.
+
+"It may mean a good deal," he answered. "I hope, however, that no harm
+has come to Silas Keene; yet I am at a loss to understand why he remains
+away so long."
+
+"He promised to return?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+For some moments a silence fell between mother and son, broken at length
+by a second ring at the bell.
+
+"We seem to have visitors in plenty," uttered the young engineer, as he
+went again to the door.
+
+On the step stood a small boy.
+
+"Well, my little man."
+
+"A letter for you, sir," and the lad placed an envelope in the hand of
+the engineer.
+
+Would wonders never cease?
+
+"Wait a moment."
+
+But the boy was gone.
+
+August went slowly back into the house.
+
+"Another letter?" questioned Mrs. Bordine.
+
+"It seems so."
+
+He opened it slowly.
+
+
+"MR. BORDINE,--It is important that you come at once if you would see
+Silas Keene alive. He has met with a terrible and unexpected accident,
+and has something of importance to communicate before he dies. He has
+importuned me all day to send for you. I have been unable until now, but
+I sincerely hope this may reach you before the poor man is no more. A
+hack will be at you door at precisely nine o'clock to take you to Keene's
+side. If you disappoint him it will certainly hasten his death.
+Confidently expecting you, I remain    'HENRY JONES.'"
+
+
+After reading this to himself, the young engineer read it aloud to his
+mother.
+
+"So the poor gentleman has met with an accident," murmured the kind old
+lady. "How sad. If we had only known this at the outset we might have had
+him brought here."
+
+"Certainly we might."
+
+Bordine came to his feet and began pacing the floor.
+
+He was not yet wholly recovered from the shock he had received from being
+thrown against a telegraph pole some days before, and he would much
+rather have remained at home than venture out into the chill air of
+night. He had a duty in the premises, however.
+
+This was the first word he had heard from Silas Keene since he left his
+home to meet the notorious tramp, Perry Jounce, in Billy Bowleg's saloon.
+
+August thought of the first note he had received--a warning to be
+constantly on his guard, and found himself wondering who wrote it. Not
+the detective, for in this note was a statement that Keene had been
+stricken down. And this bore out the statement of the last letter. It
+seemed evident that a terrible accident had happened to the detective, or
+else he had been criminally assaulted. In either case it seemed evident
+to the young man his duty to visit Keene if possible.
+
+"What had I best do, mother?" finally questioned the young man.
+
+Before asking the question August had fully determined upon his course,
+but he was anxious to have his mother's approval as well.
+
+"Go, by all meant, August."
+
+"That was my determination," assured the engineer.
+
+She was wholly unsuspicious, and had no thought that her son might go to
+his own doom.
+
+Why should she feel suspicious? Who would care to harm her son, who, she
+fully believed, had never injured a human soul?
+
+August had suspicions, however, and he secured a revolver upon his person
+ere venturing out upon his mission.
+
+Promptly at nine the sound of wheels was heard, ceasing in front of the
+engineer's cottage.
+
+Kissing his mother good-by August hastened forth. A hack stood near the
+sidewalk, the door standing open.
+
+It was dark within, but the young man noted the outlines of a man upon
+the forward seat.
+
+August stepped inside and closed the door. Then the hack rattled
+away. For some moments silence reigned. August wondered who his
+fellow-passenger was. Perhaps the one who had sent him the note
+requesting his presence at the side of the dying detective.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVII.
+
+                               THE DAGGER!
+
+
+Mrs. Bordine sat listening to the rattle of departing wheels, and
+wondered if she would be able to sit up until the return of her son.
+
+She little imagined how long he was to remain away.
+
+Half an hour after her son's departure the good widow was startled at
+hearing a sound at the front window.
+
+Slowly the sash was being raised!
+
+The hour was late, and the old lady thought of burglars at once. But what
+could they possibly want in her house? All the money for the past year's
+earnings, save what was needed for necessary expenses, was snugly in the
+bank.
+
+Slowly and cautiously the sash slid upward.
+
+Mrs. Bordine came to her feet, and stood chilled with an awful fear in
+the centre of the room.
+
+Crash!
+
+A heavy body fell to the floor directly under the window-sill.
+
+Then the curtain was parted, and a man's face peered into the room, with
+eyes so devilish in their glitter as to make the woman's flesh creep.
+"Keep it. August sent it. He won't be home to-night," said a deep,
+gutteral voice.
+
+Then the face disappeared.
+
+The window-sash fell with a loud crash, followed by the most solemn
+silence.
+
+For fully five minutes Mrs. Bordine stood petrified, without
+articulation.
+
+What had happened?
+
+The moment she could gather her senses sufficiently, she crossed the
+floor and gazed at the object that lay under the window.
+
+An ordinary newspaper was twisted about it, and when Mrs. Bordine took it
+in her hand, she realized that the substance was of metal.
+
+Swiftly she unwound the paper.
+
+As she held up her prize an involuntary exclamation fell from her lips.
+
+She held in her hand a glittering dagger, with gold hilt, and point as
+keen as a briar. It was a beautiful weapon.
+
+There was something in the glitter of the dainty weapon that was
+fascinating.
+
+The hilt was of gold, and the serpent's head that formed the design held
+a pair of glittering eyes that made the woman's flesh creep.
+
+"Why was this dropped in here?" uttered Mrs. Bordine, as she laid the
+ugly, yet beautiful, weapon aside, and went about securing the window
+against further intrusion.
+
+"August sent it, that horrible man said. If so, why did he not come to
+the door like a decent person would?"
+
+Sure enough.
+
+The door to her son's room stood ajar, and mechanically Mrs. Bordine
+entered here with the delicate dagger in her hand.
+
+The plush-lined dressing-case in front of the mirror stood open, and into
+this the widow laid the glittering toy.
+
+Shutting down the cover she left the room, and resumed her seat in the
+big arm-chair.
+
+As may be supposed, no sleep visited the old lady that night. She was too
+deeply worried on account of the strange happenings of the night. Nothing
+occurred to mar the quiet of the night, and when at length day dawned the
+widow breathed easier as she went about her work.
+
+The hour was late ere she placed breakfast on the table. She had waited
+for the return of August, but waited in vain.
+
+"He will not come. I must eat alone."
+
+She was yet at her breakfast when a furious ring at the door-bell
+startled her.
+
+When she hastened to answer the summons, she was met in the hall by two
+men, both wearing the uniform of city police.
+
+"Mercy on us! what do you want here?" cried the widow in startled tones.
+
+"We are here on important business," said the fore most officer. "We come
+to see your son."
+
+"He is not at home."
+
+"Permit _us_ to judge of that."
+
+Pushing her aside, the two men went through the different rooms of the
+little cottage, rummaging through everything, much to the dismay and
+indignation of Mrs. Bordine.
+
+They were dissatisfied with their search, and looked their anger as they
+had confronted the widow after it was all over.
+
+"Where is your son, Mrs. Bordine?"
+
+"I--I'm sure I can't tell you."
+
+"But you must tell."
+
+"How can I tell when I don't know?"
+
+"A likely story," sneered the officer.
+
+"It is the truth, sir."
+
+The officer went outside, leaving his companion within, with injunction
+to keep a close watch on the woman.
+
+There were two members of the force outside who had been watching the
+front and rear of the house.
+
+"Have you seen the young villain?"
+
+"Haven't seen a live soul, sergeant."
+
+"Then he must still be in the house. The old woman is obstinate as
+death."
+
+"Better not go too fast, sergeant," said the man in charge of the front
+entrance. "It is possible that we have made a mistake."
+
+"Not the least possibility of it," retorted the sergeant of police. "The
+young man claims to have positive evidence that Bordine murdered his
+sister."
+
+"I know, but he may be mistaken."
+
+"He said that the weapon used was a dagger of slender make. If we could
+find that."
+
+"Have you searched for it?"
+
+"Not exactly. We have been looking more particularly after the man."
+
+The police sergeant returned then to the inside of the cottage.
+
+Mrs. Bordine was still defiant.
+
+Poor old woman, she could not understand why officers of the law should
+seek her son, much less why they should insult an old lady by
+discrediting her word.
+
+"I order you out of my house."
+
+Mrs. Bordine was becoming indignant at last.
+
+The men paid no heed to the order. The sergeant began the search once
+more. "You'll pay for this outrage," declared the widow.
+
+"Hold your tongue," retorted the second man, laying his hand on the arm
+of the widow. "We have the law and the right on our side."
+
+"You have not," retorted Mrs. Bordine. "I haven't heard you read a
+search-warrant."
+
+"It's not necessary."
+
+At this moment an exclamation fell from the lips of the police sergeant.
+He came from August Bordine's room, bearing in his hand a small
+dressing-case, which he held up before the eyes of the widow.
+
+"Madam, who owns that?"
+
+"You don't, I can tell you that."
+
+"No. Is it yours?"
+
+"It belongs to August."
+
+"Your son?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I thought so. And this is his, also?"
+
+With these words the officer opened the case and took therefrom a slender
+dagger.
+
+At sight of this the wrinkled face of Mrs. Bordine blanched, a fact that
+did not escape the notice of the keen-eyed sergeant.
+
+"So, ho!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Ah, ha!" uttered the second one, with a grunt.
+
+"Now, what does this mean?" Mrs. Bordine finally gasped.
+
+"Exactly what I would ask," returned the sergeant. "I've no doubt you
+will deny that this natty little weapon belongs to your son."
+
+The eyes of the police sergeant regarded the widow fixedly.
+
+He prided himself on being an expert detective, and for many days he had
+been investigating the murder at Ridgewood, with a view to winning the
+five thousand reward offered by the county sheriff.
+
+The wound given Ransom Vane by the tramp proved but a trivial affair, and
+immediately on his recovery from the nervous shock into which it had
+thrown him, the young man came to Grandon and communicated his suspicions
+to the police.
+
+"I do deny it," uttered Mrs. Bordine at length. "I never saw that dagger
+until last evening."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Hasn't it been in your son's possession for a long time?"
+
+"It was never in his possession."
+
+"But we find it in his room--"
+
+"I know, and I put it there last night during his absence. He has never
+seen the weapon."
+
+"Preposterous."
+
+"Yes, thin!"
+
+Mrs. Bordine became exceedingly angry at these incredulous remarks. She
+at once told how the dagger came into her possession.
+
+Her story was greeted with contemptuous laughter.
+
+The suspicions of the officers now became convictions.
+
+"I am sorry for you, Mrs. Bordine," said Sergeant Railing. "I had hoped
+that you had no guilty knowledge of your son's iniquities. It seems that
+you're no better than he, and I must therefore take you with me."
+
+"Take me with you?"
+
+"That's it exactly."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"To the county jail!"
+
+Poor Mrs. Bordine.
+
+She reeled under the blow, and began to cry--broken utterly under the
+stroke.
+
+Sergeant Railing was merciless, however, and the poor widow was obliged
+to keep him company to prison.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+                         A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER.
+
+
+"How far do we have to go?" queried August, after the hack had rattled on
+for some minutes in silence.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"How far do we go?"
+
+"How far?"
+
+"Yes," cried the young engineer impatiently, not relishing the apparent
+obtuseness of the man outlined before him.
+
+"Excuse me," said the man; "I was in a brown study and did not catch on
+to your remark. If you will please repeat it, I will then try to answer."
+
+"Aren't you the gentleman who sent the note?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then you must know how far it is to the place where Silas Keene is lying
+wounded and dying."
+
+"Certainly I do. Mr. Keene is about four miles from your place, at a
+small cabin in the woods--"
+
+"Indeed! How did he come to be in such a place?"
+
+"He was on somebody's trail."
+
+"You are acquainted with Mr. Keene?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Your name is Henry Jones?"
+
+"It is."
+
+"Why did you not come for me in person without writing the letter?"
+
+"That might have been the proper way, but I am not like other people, Mr.
+Bordine. I am considered a peculiar man. It was a freak of mine, I
+suppose, that I did not do as you say. Fact is, I did not think it
+possible for me to leave Keene at the time I wrote the letter."
+
+"You afterward found him better?"
+
+"Slightly, yes."
+
+"Is he badly hurt?"
+
+"He will die."
+
+"In what manner was he injured?"
+
+"He was flung from a horse."
+
+"In the city?"
+
+"No, in the woods while he was in pursuit of a burglar."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+Then the young engineer fell to thinking deeply. He was not exactly
+satisfied with the situation of affairs. He was well assured of one
+thing, however, and that was that something had happened to Silas Keene,
+and it seemed that the mystery of the detective's disappearance was
+likely to be revealed this night.
+
+After a time the lights of the city disappeared and the hack rattled on
+over a country road.
+
+When at length it came to a halt, intense darkness surrounded them.
+
+Mr. Jones rose and opened the door.
+
+The two alighted.
+
+Jones paid the driver for his services, and then the two men stood alone
+beside the road, with the dying rattle of swift-flying wheels in their
+ears.
+
+"What now?"
+
+This question fell from the lips of August Bordine as he gazed about him
+in the darkness.
+
+"This way."
+
+A hand fell to the shoulder of Mr. Jones. "See here," cried the engineer,
+"I am not fully satisfied with these proceedings."
+
+"Aren't you?"
+
+"I am not."
+
+"You can return if you like, only it will be hard on the poor man who
+lays on a rude cot in the shanty over yonder, dying. He said you was his
+friend."
+
+"An acquaintance only."
+
+"Very well, you can do as you choose about continuing the journey. I have
+acted in good faith all along."
+
+"How much farther is it?"
+
+"About half a mile."
+
+"Go on, I will follow."
+
+And then the two men moved from the road, following a path into the
+woods.
+
+August began to suspect something wrong, but he felt that he had gone too
+far to turn back now, and with his hand on the butt of his trusty
+revolver, he went forward, resolving to see the adventure through to the
+end.
+
+Every now and then a bush would brush the face of Bordine, showing that
+the path was narrow and the wood dense.
+
+Presently a light flashed through the darkness, and soon our two
+pedestrians found themselves in front of a log cabin, that stood a few
+yards back from a narrow, brawling creek, whose waters were lashed to
+foam over rocks and stones.
+
+"This is the place."
+
+Mr. Jones pushed open the door and bade his companion enter.
+
+"Go on; I will follow."
+
+Thus urged, the man walked into a dimly-lighted room, which was almost
+entirely bare of furniture.
+
+August followed and gazed about the cabin, not a little surprised to find
+it empty. A light burned on a shelf at one side of the room--a tallow
+dip--that sputtered and threatened soon to leave the place in total
+darkness.
+
+The cabin presented no evidence of having been inhabited of late.
+
+One glance about the room, then August regarded his guide for the first
+time in the light.
+
+He started involuntarily.
+
+He had seen the man before. It was the same person he had seen in the
+carriage with the woman on the day that he first noticed the placard
+announcing a reward for the capture of Victoria Vane's murderer.
+
+He had heard him called Mr. Brown.
+
+This fact at once roused the suspicions of the young engineer to
+fever-heat. He believed now that he was the victim of a deep-laid plot.
+
+With his hand on his revolver, he looked the bearded stranger squarely in
+the face, and said:
+
+"Mr. Brown, what does this mean?"
+
+But the man addressed thus abruptly was not looking at August. Instead,
+he gazed beyond, into the depths of the night outside, the door standing
+open.
+
+There was the sound of a step outside.
+
+Bordine turned quickly.
+
+A stalwart form was framed in the narrow door--the form of Perry Jounce,
+the tramp!
+
+There was the gleam of a devil in the man's eye, and in his right hand he
+clinched the haft of a huge knife.
+
+Instantly the young engineer realized that murder was intended.
+
+Self defense is the first law of nature, and Bordine acted upon it with
+the quickness of lightning. His right hand shot forward, a bright flash
+followed, and the next instant the burly form of Perry Jounce disappeared
+from the doorway.
+
+He had fallen, bleeding, to the ground, from the bullet August Bordine
+sent hurtling into his face.
+
+Before the young engineer could turn, a pair of strong arms encircled his
+waist, and he was crushed to the floor under the weight of the man
+calling himself Henry Jones.
+
+Our young engineer had not yet regained his full strength since his hurt
+in the runaway accident, and taken at a disadvantage, he labored in vain
+to throw off his antagonist.
+
+"Confound you!" hissed the man in a voice full of intense wrath, "I'll
+fix you so you won't shoot any more honest men."
+
+He clutched his antagonist by the throat, and attempted to throttle him.
+
+August prevented this, turned suddenly, and hurled his foe backward
+against the wall.
+
+With a leap like a tiger the engineer came to his feet.
+
+"Hold up!" yelled Jones, whose face was bleeding from scratches received
+in the scuffle.
+
+Panting from exertion, August leveled his revolver and fired.
+
+His hand was unsteady, and the bullet flew wide of the mark.
+
+At this moment a sound behind him warned Bordine to guard his rear. He
+turned to see the man he supposed dead once more on his feet, with bloody
+face and flowing eyes, clutching at the side of the door to steady
+himself.
+
+The sight startled the young engineer, and deeming it best to seek safety
+in flight, he turned, dealt the reeling tramp a tremendous blow in the
+face that swept him from his feet, and dashed swiftly into the blackness
+of the night.
+
+The man in the shanty sprang swiftly after, anxious now to prevent the
+escape of his intended victim.
+
+If Bordine escaped them the country would ring with the news of the
+attempted tragedy. Dashing with the swiftness of a deer, Jones passed
+over the bulky form of Perry Jounce, and caught the outlines of the
+fleeing engineer moving directly toward the foaming creek.
+
+He had him now.
+
+With the creek before, and a determined man with a cocked revolver
+behind, it did not seem possible for the engineer to escape.
+
+"Halt!"
+
+Was Harry Jones anxious to capture his man alive?
+
+Evidently not, yet the call to halt had the effect desired. Bordine came
+to a momentary pause on the bank of the brawling creek--long enough for
+his mad pursuer to take aim and fire.
+
+With the flash and report came a loud cry, as of a human being in pain.
+Instantly, on firing, Jones darted forward.
+
+He was just in time to see the engineer plunge headlong into the boiling
+waters of the creek!
+
+"Good by, young chap. I reckon you won't trouble your betters again,"
+cried the elated homicide. "The Alstine fortune shall yet be mine--
+selah!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIX.
+
+                            STRANGE VISITORS.
+
+
+                          "THAT MURDER MYSTERY.
+
+"After some weeks of uncertainty the mystery surrounding the murder of
+Victoria Vane, a beautiful young girl of Ridgewood, seems likely to be
+closed up. Mr. Ransom Vane, the brother of the murdered girl, has been in
+our city for some time in secret communication with officers of the law.
+Young Vane is something of a detective himself, and he has succeeded in
+fixing the crime, it is believed, upon the right person, a young man of
+supposed spotless reputation, living with his widowed mother in the
+northern part of the city. The name of the guilty man is August Bordine,
+a surveyor and civil engineer, who it seems was a somewhat frequent
+visitor at the home of the Vanes, and report says that he won the girl's
+heart, and promised to make her his wife. At the same time his guilty
+connection with another woman in this city prevented his keeping faith
+with the Vane girl. A quarrel resulted, and in a moment of passion the
+young engineer struck the girl to the ground. The instrument of murder
+was a narrow-bladed dagger of delicate pattern, which is now in the hands
+of the police. Early this morning the officers raided the house of the
+guilty man, but evidently having got wind of the intentions of the police
+the young man fled. It is not believed that he can escape, however, since
+the telegraph has wafted the news throughout the country. As a necessary
+precaution the young man's mother was taken to prison. It is possible
+that if she knows about the murder, she will make a confession. It is to
+be hoped that the culprit may be brought to speedy justice."
+
+
+This is what Miss Williams read in the afternoon paper, and a cynical
+smile overspread her face as she hurried to find her cousin anxious to
+impart the news.
+
+"News for you, Rose," exclaimed the old maid, tripping into the great
+parlor where the young heiress sat alone reading.
+
+Rose looked up with a tired expression of countenance. She was pale and
+sad, evidently having suffered not a little from the change in her
+affairs since she visited the grounds of the Bordine cottage.
+
+"Never mind, Janet, I do not care to read it."
+
+"Shall I read it to you?"
+
+"Yes, if you are determined."
+
+Seating herself near Miss Williams, read in slow, even tones, the
+announcement of he arrest of Mrs. Bordine and the flight of her son.
+
+Miss Williams regarded her fair cousin furtively the moment she finished
+reading. Rose's face was deadly pale, and her white hands became clinched
+until the blood seemed ready to burst through the pink nails.
+
+"August was no better than the rest of the men, Rose. You can't trust one
+of them out of your sight."
+
+A sigh alone answered her.
+
+"I never thought much of that man, Rose. You remembered, I told you once
+that there was a look about his eyes that reminded me of the criminal who
+murdered his wife down in New Hampshire. I never could forget that man. I
+shudder now when I think of it."
+
+"Hush, Janet."
+
+"But it wasn't your fault, of course, you are so young and inexperienced.
+Now, as for me, I can see through a man in an instant; its a sort of
+intuition that some women possess, thus making them wiser than their
+companions. I always expected to hear something bad of that love of
+yours."
+
+Rose came to her feet.
+
+"Now, coz, don't get your back up"--But Rose Alstine paid no heed to the
+injunction of her tormenting cousin; she rushed from the room, and,
+speeding up stairs, locked herself in her own cozy chamber, there to
+combat her grief as best she could.
+
+She did not descend until a late hour in the evening, and even then there
+were ominous red lines about her eyes, indicating that she had been
+weeping.
+
+A jingle at the door-bell sent one of the servants to answer it.
+
+A dog rushed in, followed by a man, who had a string in his hand, one end
+fastened to the dog's collar. On his back--the dog's--was strapped a tin
+box.
+
+"Excuse me, Miss, but I'd like to see the Mistress," said the man, whose
+red hair and beard, and eye covered with a black patch, made him rather a
+disgusting object to look upon.
+
+Miss Williams and Rose were yet in the dining-room lingering over a late
+dinner.
+
+"I'll see," said the maid, but dog and peddler followed her at once into
+the presence of the ladies.
+
+Quite a ripple of amusement was created at the novel sight of the dog
+bearing the peddler's pack.
+
+"Ladies, I beg your pardon," cried the queer looking man, lifting his hat
+and thrusting it under his arm.
+
+Then he called the dog, unfastened the tin box and opened it, displaying
+Yankee notions in abundance.
+
+But Miss Alstine wanted none of these.
+
+Janet and the maid, however, seemed quite pleased with the display, and
+examined everything in the box, while Rose petted the dog, a shaggy,
+good-natured fellow.
+
+The peddler, while expatiating on the good qualities of his goods,
+managed to steal to the side of Rose.
+
+"Keep up your grit, Miss, they won't capture August. He is innocent, and
+the guilty one will ere long be brought to justice."
+
+Thus whispered the peddler in the ear of the young girl.
+
+Rose manifested her surprise with a short and half-smothered exclamation.
+
+"Get down, Tige. Go away, you bad dog," cried out the peddler suddenly,
+to hide the emotion expressed by Miss Alstine. His ruse was a success,
+the maid and Miss Williams failing to notice the agitation of Rose.
+
+A little later dog and peddler left the house, he having disposed of a
+few simple articles to the maid and Miss Williams.
+
+"What a queer looking man," remarked the maid, as she stood at the window
+watching the movements of the one-eyed peddler and his dog team.
+
+"Queer indeed," murmured Rose.
+
+That evening Rose Alstine received a caller whom she little expected--the
+woman she had seen in the summer-house in the arms of August Bordine.
+
+"Can I see you alone for a moment, Miss Alstine?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+Then the heiress cast a significant look at her cousin, who with a toss
+of her head rose at once and left the room, taking the precaution to
+remain by the door and listen, however, after she had closed it.
+
+"I am not mistaken in calling you Miss Alstine."
+
+"No, madam."
+
+"Doubtless you can guess why I am here?"
+
+"I haven't the remotest idea."
+
+Rose stared very impolitely, it must be confessed, at her visitor. "It is
+with regard to that unfortunate affair of a few days since--"
+
+"No apologies are necessary," Rose interrupted haughtily. "I do not blame
+you."
+
+"You have no reason to. I have been that man's wife nearly six years."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"It is true. I am here to inform you, however, that it is possible that a
+grave mistake has been made."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"My husband's name is not Bordine."
+
+"He has a dozen aliases, I presume."
+
+"I fear so," returned the woman, in an agitated voice.
+
+"It is wholly unnecessary for you to go on, Mrs. Bordine. Rest assured
+that you have my sympathy, and I shall not trouble your husband again."
+
+"No. It is not that."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I read in the evening paper of the arrest of Mrs. Bordine and the flight
+of her son--"
+
+"Your husband."
+
+"Not too fast, Miss Alstine. I wish to say that my husband has no mother
+living, so it seems to me a mistake has been made somewhere."
+
+"Such a man has mothers and wives to suit his convenience," retorted
+Rose. "I presume you will not deny that the man who calls himself your
+husband has fled."
+
+"He is not at home at present."
+
+"I thought not. I am sorry for you, Mrs. Bordine. but it is clearly a
+fact that we have both been sadly deceived. Of course you suffer more
+than I. I am free, and truly thankful that I escaped from the snare of
+such a villain. If I can do anything for you I will gladly respond."
+
+"You can do nothing."
+
+The woman sighed and came to her feet. She extended her hand with:
+
+"I hope you will not blame me--"
+
+"No, indeed. You have my heartfelt sympathy," assured Miss Alstine, with
+warmth, at the same time taking the wronged wife's hand in hers and
+kissing her pale cheek.
+
+"May Heaven help you, Miss Alstine! I thought you might misconstrue my
+actions, and so I came to you. It is true my husband is a bad man, yet in
+spite of all I love him still, and would reform him if I could."
+
+Then, dropping her veil, the wife walked sobbing from the room and the
+house.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XX.
+
+                           EXIT PERRY JOUNCE.
+
+
+It was a triumphant expression that fell from the lips of the disguised
+Barkswell as he saw his enemy plunge headlong into the gulf of boiling
+waters.
+
+Making his way to the edge of the water the villain gazed long and
+earnestly at the seething foam, but no sign of the body of his rival was
+to be seen. The night was extremely dark, and this might have prevented
+his seeing the corpse.
+
+"Well, there's no use standing here," muttered the man. "I am satisfied
+that the body of August Bordine'll be found water-logged some day, and
+that will end the hunt for the assassin of Victoria Vane. It is just as
+well, and will give me the better chance to walk into the affections of
+Miss Alstine. I hear that her father will soon return. I must complete
+the work by a marriage before that. It was a confounded mean affair, that
+meeting in the garden. I suppose it'll require a good deal of shrewd
+lying to convince Rose that that woman was not my wife."
+
+Then the villain walked back to the little shanty.
+
+A light still burned within.
+
+Barkswell paused at the door.
+
+On the floor sat Perry Jounce, wiping the blood from his face with a
+dirty handkerchief.
+
+"Well, Perry, that came mighty near proving a finisher for you," said.
+Mr. Barkswell with a provoking smile.
+
+"Wal, I should remark. And you'd a ben glad on't. I ain't goin' ter die
+yet awhile, pardner. Do you know why?"
+
+The ex-tramp seemed cool enough under the circumstances.
+
+"Explain, Perry."
+
+"I'm goin' to live to see you hang."
+
+"Now, now, old boy, that's unkind."
+
+"Jest the same it's true."
+
+"I really hope not."
+
+"I had my fortune told once."
+
+"Indeed."
+
+"The dumdest lookin' old critter in York told it."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She gin me a good yarn, one that I'm thinkin's going to come true."
+
+"Why do you think so? I supposed you were above superstition, Mr.
+Jounce."
+
+"So I be, but sence a part of the prophecy has come true, why shouldn't
+the rest?"
+
+"Sure enough."
+
+"You agree with me there?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then I'll tell you the rest on't, though its sometimes made my blood run
+cold when I think on't," proceeded the tramp, looking up into the face of
+his companion, with blood-stained countenance, and eyes that were sodden
+with pain and passion. He looked like some prisoner of state doomed to
+the martyr's stake, as he sat there in the dim light and talked in a
+solemn monotone that was weird and unnatural.
+
+"The old witch said I was to meet with many misfortunes, pass a dreadful
+crisis, and then come out with flying colors.
+
+"But I'm a gittin' ahead of my story. My sister--I had but one--was to
+make a mismatch with a gambler and outlaw. He was to cause her and me a
+heap o' trouble. Finally the husban' was ter plot ter put his wife outen
+the way so't he could git another gal with a big fortune."
+
+"Nonsense."
+
+"Don't interrupt me," growled the tramp. "I'm jest a tellin' what the
+fortune-teller said; 'tain't none o' my gammon."
+
+"Go on."
+
+A smile curled the lip of Barkswell.
+
+"Wal, thar ain't a half more to tell. This chap, my sister's husban', was
+wishin' to get rid of his wife, but in makin' the attempt he ruined
+himself, and I was ter see the chap hung fur the murder."
+
+"Then he _does_ succeed."
+
+The keen eyes of Barkswell regarded the man before him fixedly,
+penetratingly.
+
+"No!" hissed the tramp.
+
+"Men do not hang for attempting murder."
+
+"Don't they? Pardner, let me tell you that you won't live arter you
+_attempt_ to murder Iris."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I know ye, Andy Barkswell--know what yer scheming brain hez concocted.
+Not content wi' puttin' poor Vict'ry Vane out o' the world, you hev
+planned ter kill my sister, yer true and lawful wife. I'll watch ye thar,
+hossfly--"
+
+"Scoundrel!"
+
+With the exclamation, Barkswell leaped with the fury of a tiger at the
+throat of the stalwart tramp.
+
+The hour had come for a complete triumph or none.
+
+"Murder!"
+
+This was the cry that escaped the lips of the wounded tramp.
+
+Well might he give utterance to the cry.
+
+There was murder gleaming in the lurid eyes of the villain, Barkswell.
+
+Although Perry Jounce was weak from the effects of the shot that had
+plowed a furrow through his scalp, his assailant did not permit him to
+have a fair show.
+
+The tramp had been very indiscreet in telling what he did to his wicked
+brother-in-law.
+
+"Mercy!" finally gasped Jounce, when he found that he had not strength
+sufficient to combat the man who was at his throat with murderous intent.
+
+"You shall not live to thwart me, Perry Jounce," hissed Barkswell, as he
+pressed his companion in crime to the floor, and crushed his knee down
+upon his breast.
+
+"Mercy!" again gasped Jounce.
+
+"No. You would grant none to me. It would not be safe for me to permit
+you to live."
+
+"But, hasn't I did my duty by you, pardner? Ef't hadn't been fur me Sile
+Keene wouldn't a went under," uttered the helpless tramp, pleadingly.
+
+There was no mercy in the heart of Andrew Barkswell, however. Jounce knew
+too much and was disposed to be dangerous, so he did not scruple to put
+him out of the way.
+
+"Not a word, scoundrel," growled Barkswell, and with the words he drew a
+clasp knife from an inner pocket.
+
+Again the fallen wretch gasped for mercy.
+
+"You butted against the wrong man, Perry Jounce," muttered Barkswell,
+"when you attempted to frighten me from my plans. What is your life to
+me? No more than _his_, than that woman's. You must die."
+
+
+The point of the knife touched the heaving bosom of the tramp, above the
+heart.
+
+"Mercy! Spare me, brother--!"
+
+The words were cut short by a quick movement on the part of Barkswell. He
+had sent the knife to the hilt in the bosom of the tramp.
+
+"There, that ends your career," and with the words the young villain came
+to his feet.
+
+He stood back with folded arms and watched the dying convulsions of his
+victim.
+
+Soon the huge form lay quiet, the strong limbs stiffened in death.
+
+A smile played on the features of Barkswell. Nevertheless his face was
+pale and drawn, and his breath came in short, hot gasps. It was no
+ordinary thing to take the life of a human being, much less to perpetrate
+the deed in cold blood.
+
+"Now then the body must be disposed of," muttered Barkswell. "I cannot
+permit it to lay here."
+
+He moved about and lifted a small trap in the floor. Through this he
+tumbled the body, and taking the candle, towered himself into a small,
+damp cellar.
+
+It was a gloomy place.
+
+The murderer must needs labor here for a time, however.
+
+The ground was soft, and procuring a barrel-stave, the homicide went at
+the labor of digging a grave for his victim.
+
+This work consumed some time. It was accomplished at length, however, and
+the body of the tramp tumbled in.
+
+Slowly the man heaped the loose sand above the breast of his victim. When
+it was level full he stamped it down with his feet, and then heaped on
+more of the dirt.
+
+His light sputtered and grew dim, threatening to go out.
+
+It was not a pleasant thought, the one of being left alone in the dark
+there, with the blood of his victim trickling through the floor upon him.
+
+"Mercy! what a dismal place. I must get out of this instanter, and--what
+was that?"
+
+The sound of a step creaking on the floor above!
+
+An awful horror took complete possession of Barkswell at that moment. He
+dared not look up at the opening through which he had passed, fearing, he
+knew not what.
+
+His first thought was to extinguish the light.
+
+He snatched it from the wall, and then, in spite of his terror, he cast
+his eyes upward. A face, white and ghostly, peered down upon him, a pair
+of flaming eyes burning into his very soul. With a wild cry Barkswell
+flung down the light, and fell fainting across the grave of his murdered
+victim.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXI.
+
+                           BORDINE AND SHANKS.
+
+
+The bullet that Andrew Barkswell sent hustling after the fleeing Bordine
+went wide of its mark.
+
+The young engineer was moving at such a rate of speed, however, that it
+was wholly impossible for him to halt.
+
+He knew not of the near proximity of the creek, and in consequence went
+headlong into the foaming current. His head came in contact with a jagged
+rock that partially stunned him so that for the moment he sank beneath
+its surface.
+
+The swift current buoyed him up, and bore him swiftly from the vicinity.
+
+Dazed and nearly strangled the engineer struggled to save himself from
+drowning. In the endeavor his hands came in contact with a floating
+plank, which the high water had floated from the bank.
+
+He grasped the plank with a cry of joy. He felt that there was little
+danger of his drowning with such a buoy to cling to.
+
+On down the current swept plank and man. At times the float touched the
+shore, but in such places the bank was steep and Bordine dared not make
+the attempt to land.
+
+Presently, after floating perhaps a mile, the glimmer of a light filled
+his eyes.
+
+On swept the plank with its human burden, and soon the light broadened
+into a large flame.
+
+It proved to be a fire built on a level bit of ground near the water's
+edge. A man sat in the glow of the fire evidently engaged in cooking his
+evening meal.
+
+The sharp bark of a dog seemed to startle him.
+
+"What is it, Tige?"
+
+The dog darted down to the edge of the water, looked wistfully at the
+stream, then with a final bark plunged into the stream.
+
+He seized one end of the plank and dragged it ashore.
+
+A man, with the water running from him in streams, stood up in the
+fire-light regarding the dog-owner. "Hello!" exclaimed the man.
+
+"Hello yourself."
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"A gentleman of the naval service," answered August Bordine with a
+gruesome laugh.
+
+He could not feel prepossessed in favor of the man before him, who was
+small of stature, with a deformed body, bushy red hair and beard, one eye
+alone visible, the other hidden completely under a black patch.
+
+"Wal," remarked the queer looking man, "you have the appearance of being
+a water-fowl anyhow. Come up by the fire and wring yourself, and get the
+chills out of your system. I havn't got much of a home to offer you, but
+it's good enough for me, and what's good enough for me is good enough for
+anybody."
+
+Then the queer stranger led the way to the fire, where the light revealed
+the features of the saturated man completely.
+
+"Eh!"
+
+The peddler started and uttered the exclamation as though astonished.
+
+"Now what?" demanded the young engineer as he began to wring himself.
+
+"I reckon I've seen you before."
+
+"It wouldn't be strange."
+
+"Your from Grandon?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I git my stock in that town," proceeded Mr. Shanks. "I've seen a heap of
+folks, and know a--many who don't know me."
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"You remember seeing me at your house 'tother day don't you?"
+
+"I do not."
+
+"Ain't your name Barkswell?"
+
+"No."
+
+The one-eyed man fixed his single optic on the face of the wet youth in a
+glance that was penetrating.
+
+"I swear, but there's a mighty close resemblance."
+
+"There must be. Many people have taken me to be somebody other than I am.
+I do not understand it."
+
+"What _is_ your name?"
+
+"Bordine."
+
+"Um!"
+
+The peddler sat down on a log near, and crossing his legs, with both
+hands on the back of his dog--he seemed to have only one now--he gazed
+thoughtfully into vacancy.
+
+"A strange resemblance," he muttered.
+
+"Permit me to thank you for your kindness, Mr.----"
+
+"Shanks--Hiram Shanks at your service," the peddler filled in.
+
+"I might have drowned but for you. This fire is quite comfortable I
+assure you, most comfortable indeed."
+
+The steam rose in a cloud about the engineer as he turned about, exposing
+his clothing to the genial heat.
+
+"I was eating a mighty late supper," said the peddler. "Fact is I'm
+noways regular at my meals; coz the tarverns won't board me for what it's
+worth. I bunk out of doors these warm nights, and don't feel afraid with
+Tige for a companion."
+
+"I should imagine not. That dog is a noble fellow."
+
+"Noble! Well, he's the next thing to human, Mr. Bordine. Somebody
+poisoned his mate, so't I have to foot it where once I rode in my
+carriage. If your anyways hungry, mister, I can give you grub enough such
+as 'tis."
+
+The engineer assured the queer fellow that he had no desire to eat since
+it was late when he left home.
+
+"How'd you come in the creek?"
+
+Should he tell the true story to this deformed fellow, who had befriended
+him? Could there be any harm in it?
+
+"Speak right out, young man. You've been into a muss of some sort, and I
+sympathise with you."
+
+"I am glad to hear you say that."
+
+After a moment given to reflection, the engineer told the story of his
+being decoyed from home, and of the attempt upon his life by the tramp,
+and the man from Grandon.
+
+Not a word did the one-eyed man utter during the recital, but the fire in
+that single eye grew to a deeper flame, and he pushed up the black patch
+in a way that betokened extreme nervousness.
+
+The eye beneath the patch did not seem defective to Bordine, yet the
+slight view he obtained of it was not sufficient to make sure as to that.
+
+When he had finished, the peddler opened his lips to give utterance to
+one word:
+
+"Fool!"
+
+"I admit it," returned the engineer.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," uttered Hiram Shanks, quickly, "but after the warning
+you'd had, and the death of the detective, it seems to me that you ought
+to have been on your guard."
+
+"So I ought; but it was on account of the detective."
+
+"Don't put yourself out on his account," retorted the one-eyed man
+quickly. "The little experience I've had with a litter of that kind it
+don't pay to waste sympathy on 'em. Do you know who the fellow was that
+got you into this trap?"
+
+"I am not positive. I know I saw the fellow once, and at the Golden Lion
+he registered as Mr. Brown."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+After a little more questioning, the peddler assured August that it was
+time to turn in.
+
+"You needn't be scared. Tige'll watch out for tramps or other enemies to
+honest men."
+
+"I would like to reach home."
+
+"You can't to-night. Twon't be long till morning. Wait, and I will go
+with you."
+
+After a little reflection the young engineer consented to this plan, but
+he found it impossible to sleep for some time in his damp clothing.
+
+The peddler walked into the shadows, and August saw no more of him until
+the dawn of day, when Tige uttered a glad bark and darted into the bushes
+to greet his returning master.
+
+August sat up, yet damp and uncomfortable, with an intense, burning fever
+in his veins.
+
+"How far is it to the city?" he questioned.
+
+"Four miles."
+
+The young man staggered to his feet, but sank as quickly.
+
+"You are ill, young feller?"
+
+"I--I fear so," groaned August. "I don't believe it will be possible for
+me to walk home."
+
+"Of course it won't."
+
+"What shall I do? Can you procure a horse--"
+
+"I can. You must rest here, or at a little shanty up the stream I have in
+my mind, until I bring a conveyance. Do you mind?"
+
+"I suppose I must wait. I feel terribly sick and weak."
+
+Then, leaning on the arm of the deformed peddler, August permitted him to
+lead him into the bushes, where, against the creek bank, was a small
+fisherman's shanty, one side of which was open to the weather.
+
+Here, on an old blanket, the peddler left August to await his return.
+
+Tige was left to guard the sick man, and then Hiram Shanks hastened from
+the spot.
+
+It seemed a long time ere the peddler returned, and when he did come, he
+brought the most startling news.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXII.
+
+                            HANK JONES AGAIN.
+
+
+Hot with fever, August Bordine lifted his aching head for the dozenth
+time to listen for the returning tread of the queer old peddler.
+
+A glad bark from Tige was the first announcement the sick young man had
+of the return of his queer friend.
+
+"Tired waiting?" queried Shanks, as he burst through the bushes and
+confronted the engineer.
+
+"Very tired," moaned the feverish lips.
+
+Then August put his head upon his hand and regarded the peddler with a
+look of anxious inquiry.
+
+"Did you bring a horse?"
+
+"No, I didn't," answered the peddler abruptly.
+
+"Then you have deceived me," and the sick youth sank back with a groan.
+
+"Nothing of the kind," answered Shanks. "I've learned some tremendous
+news since I went from here this morning."
+
+"News?" "Yes. Twon't be safe for you to go back to the city."
+
+"Not safe? What do you mean?"
+
+"This is what I mean," said the peddler, sinking to his knees and
+adjusting the black patch carefully over his eye. "The whole burgh is in
+a state of excitement over the discovery of the murderer of Victoria
+Vane."
+
+"He has been discovered then?"
+
+"Wait. A squad of police went to your house this morning and hunted high
+and low for you. The papers say that August Bordine murdered the
+Ridgewood girl, and that he fled last night from the city to escape
+arrest. What do you think of that?"
+
+"It's all false."
+
+"I suppose so, but if you should fall into the hands of the officers just
+now, you wouldn't be given half chance for your life."
+
+"But who started this yarn?"
+
+Bordine was deeply interested, and he sat up now and forgot for the time
+his aching head and weakened body.
+
+"It seems to be the murdered girl's brother who is engineering the
+search. He is determined that his sister's murderer shall be brought to
+justice."
+
+"That is right of course."
+
+"Yes, but the evidence points strongly to you. I think, with a speedy
+trial, you could be convicted, I vow I do, Mr. Bordine. Dare you go back
+and risk it?"
+
+"I am innocent--"
+
+"True, but you _seem_ guilty. The girl, they say, was stabbed--"
+
+"Yes, with a small dirk."
+
+"Exactly," with a start.
+
+Perhaps he was wondering how the young engineer knew so much if he was
+guiltless.
+
+"Can you tell me what kind of a knife it was?"
+
+The single eye of the questioner was fixed in a keen gaze upon the face
+of August Bordine.
+
+He seemed growing suspicious again.
+
+"It was apparently a two-edged blade."
+
+"Apparently?"
+
+"Yes. Of course I could not tell exactly, since the wound was not easily
+examined."
+
+"I see. Then you have not seen the knife--the dagger that found the life
+of Victoria Vane?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And yet it was found in your room."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"It is true. That evidence alone might hang you."
+
+"My soul! what does, what _can_ this mean?" groaned the young engineer,
+sinking back to the rough blanket, weak as a rag under the revelation of
+this strange man.
+
+"It means that a plot exists for your destruction, and the elevation of
+another," answered Hiram Shanks, slowly and with deliberation. "Doubtless
+your journey last night was a part of the plot. I confess that some
+things puzzle me, yet I am assured that your death is necessary to the
+successful issue of a plot."
+
+"I cannot understand it."
+
+"Nor I, fully."
+
+Then a short silence fell between the two men, during which the eyes of
+Bordine examined the face of the queer little peddler keenly. At length
+he said:
+
+"Mr. Shanks, will you answer me a question?"
+
+"A dozen, if you like."
+
+"Only one?"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"Hiram Shanks."
+
+"Yes, but you are no ordinary man."
+
+"Why do you think that?"
+
+"To look at you, one would think--"
+
+Then the engineer came to a sudden pause, and seemed embarrassed.
+
+"I understand what you would say," remarked the peddler, with the
+faintest smile imaginable. "You imagine I will feel offended if you speak
+the truth, and say that I look like a battered, old tramp, but I should
+not. I will tell you the truth, young man. I have seen better days, but
+misfortunes came upon me, not singly, but in platoons, until I found my
+life a wreck. A wicked woman, poor whisky, and a reckless heart have
+brought me mighty low. I do not expect to rise again, but I have resolved
+to reform and pass the remainder of my days in honest endeavor.
+
+"I turned to peddling from a natural liking to handle goods. I lead a
+wandering life now, and expect to till I die. I mean, however, to help
+you all possible, since I am assured that you are a good man and innocent
+of crime. My advice was once listened to; may I not hope that it will be
+again? Heed what I gay, trust me, and all will yet come out right. What
+do you say?"
+
+"That I am unable to disobey at the present time, at any rate," answered
+the engineer. "Which may prove to be a blessing in disguise, after all."
+
+Then queer Hiram Shanks came to his feet, and gazed sharply about him.
+
+"I am not sure that this is the safest place that could be found," he
+said, "yet it isn't a place that people hunting for criminals would be
+apt to look. On the whole, I think you had better remain here until
+night, at least."
+
+Then the peddler whistled to his dog, and walked away, leaving the sick
+man alone in the fisherman's shanty.
+
+"Who is guilty? that's the question," muttered Hiram Shanks when once out
+of hearing of the sick man. "Bordine certainly doesn't act like a guilty
+wretch, and I, for one, believe him innocent. I must run down the guilty
+dogs, however, if I would save an innocent man and win the five thousand
+dollars reward."
+
+Then the peddler hurried from the vicinity, accompanied by his dog.
+
+Bordine fell into a troubled slumber, from which he was awakened by a
+sound from the murmuring creek.
+
+Instantly his senses were on the alert.
+
+He felt anxious to be at home, to alleviate the fears that he knew his
+mother must undergo on account of his continued absence.
+
+"Somebody is coming," he thought.
+
+Then he listened as he could with the beating fever in his head.
+
+The dip of a paddle!
+
+It was this that had wakened him.
+
+He roused to a sitting posture and gazed through the open side of the
+shanty down toward the water.
+
+A man had just landed from an Indian canoe, and stood on the bank,
+regarding him in evident astoundment. August could scarcely repress a
+cry.
+
+And no wonder.
+
+In front of him, not ten yards distant, stood the man who attempted to
+murder him the night before in the lone cabin near the creek falls.
+
+The astoundment was mutual.
+
+Evidently the man was none the worse for the fright he had received over
+the grave of his victim in the shanty cellar. He stared at the reclining
+form in the fisherman's shanty as though doubting his senses.
+
+After a moment he advanced, and gazed fixedly into the face of
+fever-stricken August.
+
+"So!" he exclaimed, and in that one word there was an immense amount of
+meaning.
+
+Then he walked up to the bunk and stood within a few feet of the sick
+man.
+
+"Hank Jones, what are you doing here?"
+
+"Well, that's a nice question," sneered the villain as he thrust his hand
+to his hip pocket. "How in nature did you escape from the creek? Didn't I
+hit you when I fired?"
+
+With the words the villain drew a revolver.
+
+"It seems not."
+
+"Then I'll make sure of it this time."
+
+"This is unfair," remonstrated August, feeling that he was at the mercy
+of his enemy, and anxious to gain time, for night was fast falling, and
+with it the peddler and his dog would doubtless come.
+
+"All is fair in war my friend."
+
+"Why did you attempt to murder me last night?"
+
+"For purposes of my own."
+
+"You concocted a falsehood about Silas Keene and led me into a trap."
+
+"Not entirely false," returned the villain. "The detective was hurt, and
+has since died."
+
+"Since last night?"
+
+"No, before that, but I will not palaver with you. I set out to rid the
+earth of my rival in business, and this is the way I do it."
+
+The speaker thrust forward his revolver and fired.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+                            A QUEER MISTAKE.
+
+
+The aim of the would-be assassin was not good. His bullet flew wide of
+the mark.
+
+Why?
+
+The deep growl of a dog was the disturbing cause.
+
+As Hank Jones pulled the trigger, a shaggy object bounded through the
+bushes full at the throat of the villainous murderer.
+
+August recognized the peddler's dog. Man and dog rolled down the bank to
+the water's edge. In the struggle the disguised outlaw's beard was torn
+off, and Andrew Barkswell stood revealed.
+
+"Curse you, I'll knife you for this!" grated the baffled villain.
+
+The next instant a keen blade gleamed in the air, just as a voice called:
+
+"Tige, come off."
+
+The dog was used to obeying his master's voice, and so he released his
+hold just in time to avoid the knife of the maddened Barkswell.
+
+"Here, Tige."
+
+The dog came bounding up the bank.
+
+The single eye of the peddler glanced down at the man who struggled to
+his feet at the water's edge, and sprang into a canoe.
+
+"So, you, Tige. Why was you going for our friend in that way?"
+
+The peddler patted his dog and talked scoldingly until the escaping
+villain was well out in the stream, paddling away.
+
+Quickly Hiram Shanks strode down to the water.
+
+"Hey, you, man--August, what you leaving for? You'll surely get caught."
+
+It will thus be seen that the peddler, who was hidden from the
+fisherman's shanty by a line of bushes, had mistaken the fleeing man for
+his patient.
+
+The man in the boat made no response to the call of Shanks, and soon was
+lost to view behind an abrupt bend.
+
+"Well, that beats me," muttered the one-eyed man, as he gazed over the
+water at the point where the canoe and its occupant had just disappeared.
+
+Then, as he turned to ascend the bank, he noticed that Tige held
+something in his teeth--a heavy black beard!
+
+Seizing it, the peddler examined it closely, then exclaimed:
+
+"A disguise! Well, I'm puzzled now more than ever. I thought August
+Bordine a much abused man, and now it turns out that he's a villain after
+all, and able to pull the wool even over _my_ eyes."
+
+Slowly Hiram Shanks ascended the bank. His dog uttered a joyful bark, and
+dashed through the bushes toward the little shanty.
+
+"Here you, Tige," called the peddler.
+
+"Bow-wow-wow!" was the answer from the faithful dog.
+
+Hiram Shanks moved through the bushes, and then uttered a surprised
+exclamation. Reclining on the old blanket where he had left him was
+August Bordine, the young engineer.
+
+"Bless my heart! young man, I thought I saw you just now riding away in a
+canoe."
+
+"You see your mistake now, I suppose," returned August, trying repeatedly
+to smile.
+
+"And it wasn't you, after all?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+Then August explained the situation in a few words. When he had finished
+the peddler tapped him gently on the shoulder and said:
+
+"I am greatly relieved. I know that man now. He has caused all the
+mischief. You and he look as near alike as two peas. The clouds are
+rolling by and I see my way clear. It won't be long before the
+authorities as well as the people will be astounded with the arrest of
+Victoria Vane's murderer. It will astound them because they will find in
+the real murderer not the man they expect."
+
+The peddler spoke so enthusiastically as to attract the notice of his
+listener.
+
+"Are you on the track of the assassin?" questioned Bordine.
+
+"I am."
+
+"Then you are a detective?"
+
+"If I succeed, yes. You see, I am but an amateur now. Whisky and an
+unfaithful woman poisoned me almost to the death. I saw that offer of
+five thousand dollars reward, and it stimulated me to new life. That is a
+good deal of money, my boy, especially to one in my circumstances; and so
+I thought to myself, if I could only win that reward, I could tog up in
+good shape and enter the business world once more. I've been aiming for
+that, and I mean to gather it in."
+
+"I sincerely hope you may Mr. Shanks."
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+The days passed; a fortnight was gone, and yet no news of the young
+engineer who had so mysteriously disappeared from his home on the night
+before the arrest of Mrs. Bordine.
+
+That lady was well treated by the sheriff's family, but was not permitted
+to have communication with the outside world, so that she realized that
+she was a close prisoner all this time. The reader can easily imagine how
+the old lady suffered, with a dark cloud hanging over the name of her
+son. She, of course, firmly believed in his innocence, and would not
+credit the story that he had fled to escape arrest. There was a mystery
+about his continued absence for which she could not account, and which
+gave the good woman no end of trouble.
+
+"I would trust August with my life," she more than once asserted. "He
+does not come because he fears arrest, but some accident has befallen
+him, and it may be that we shall none of us see him again, for I fear he
+is dead."
+
+It was thus the old mother talked to the officers, and to Miss Alstine,
+who, in the kindness of her heart, visited her lover's mother.
+
+Of course that lover was as nought to the young heiress now. She believed
+him to be a villain of the deepest dye, yet she could not tell her
+thoughts to that trusting old mother who seemed so wrapped up in her son.
+
+"The idea that he could harm anybody," declared Mrs. Bordine to Rose,
+with both plump hands on the girl's shoulders. "Why, he never even so
+much as killed a chicken without shuddering."
+
+"We will hope that a mistake has been made, dear Mrs. Bordine."
+
+"And you are so kind," returned the old woman with tears in her eyes. Do
+you know, Miss Alstine, I want to ask your forgiveness."
+
+"For what, dear?"
+
+"For unkind judgment of you."
+
+"I am sure you never have misjudged me, dear."
+
+"Oh, yes I have."
+
+"How?"
+
+"It was one day when August had been up to your house. He was dreadfully
+down in the mouth when he came back from that visit. He'd been jilted he
+said, by you, and I told him right for ever trying to win the heart of a
+rich girl. I said some very harsh things of you, Miss, things that I know
+now weren't true. Of course I can see now that you had some good reason
+for not wishing to marry a poor engineer, a reason that was above
+regarding his poverty. I won't ask you what it was, for if the poor boy
+is dead it won't make any difference, and--and--"
+
+Poor mother.
+
+She broke down then completely, and fell to sobbing on the breast of the
+sympathetic Rose.
+
+Ah, yes, she knew why she had refused to see the widow's son that
+eventful day, and it was not poverty that drove him out of her life.
+Rose, however, would not explain now, nor ever to Mrs. Bordine. She
+realized that the kindly soul had never realized the truth regarding the
+dual character of August.
+
+If he never returned it was well that she should think of him always, as
+now, true and dutiful, a model man and son in every respect.
+
+Officers were now more than ever on the alert. Everybody was anxious to
+win the magnificent reward, and it now seemed very easy of attainment,
+since the real murderer was known.
+
+Would he fall finally into the hands of the law?
+
+This was the question that Rose asked many times of herself. It would be
+justice, and yet it would grind her heart to know of his dying on the
+scaffold.
+
+Was he guilty?
+
+Another question.
+
+Could she doubt it, remembering the scene in the garden at the house of
+her lover?
+
+One evening while Rose, unattended, was hastening along the street toward
+the city prison, she suddenly became aware that a man was following her.
+There was something in his walk and general appearance that seemed
+familiar, but she could not see his face, since his hat was down low,
+shading it completely.
+
+She had reached the entrance to the sheriff's office, and placed her hand
+on the knob, when the man sprang quickly to her side and seized her arm.
+She uttered a startled cry and pushed open the door.
+
+"One moment, Rose!" cried the man, hoarsely. He snatched the hat from his
+head and bent his face close hers.
+
+The girl uttered a great cry.
+
+"Great Heaven, _you here, August Bordine!_"
+
+And then Rose closed the door and leaned heavily against the wall.
+
+[Illustration: HE SNATCHED THE HAT FROM HIS HEAD, AND BENT HIS FACE CLOSE
+TO HERS.]
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+                            A NARROW ESCAPE.
+
+
+Not a word passed between the two for some moments. The man glanced up
+and down the street uneasily, then resumed his hat and said:
+
+"I am glad you recognize me, Rose. I have been wanting to see you for a
+long time."
+
+"You have risked your life in coming," she said. "Surely you know that a
+large reward rests against you."
+
+"I do, but I am willing to risk life to see the one I love--"
+
+"Hush! Mr. Bordine," cried the girl, huskily. "I wish to hear no more of
+that."
+
+"No? Then you believe the stories that are handed about that I am a
+murderer?"
+
+There was a bitter tone to his voice that did not fail to have its
+effect.
+
+"Don't ask me, August," she returned sadly. "I have no right to think on
+that subject, it is a question that rests between you and your God."
+
+"But do you believe me guilty?"
+
+"Are you guilty? Tell me truly," she cried, suddenly, looking up into his
+haggard face in a way that thrilled him to the quick.
+
+"Will you believe me if I swear--"
+
+"No, no, do not mar your word with an oath, August," she interrupted,
+quickly. "I will believe you without that."
+
+"May Heaven bless you, Rose," he cried, in a relieved tone. "I am as
+innocent as you are of that murder."
+
+"Then go. Do not be found here another minute. The evidence will convict
+you, and I do not wish to see you die."
+
+She pushed him from her with a trembling hand.
+
+"One kiss, darling."
+
+She would have been less than human and a woman, had she refused, with
+her heart all seething with conflicting emotion on account of the love
+she bore this man, that would not down even when she knew him guilty of
+deception and fraud--perhaps of murder.
+
+He bent and imprinted a kiss upon her cold cheek, held her hand a moment
+in a hot clasp, then turned to go.
+
+A step sounded near.
+
+Someone was approaching.
+
+"Go! while it is yet time," urged the maiden in a thrilling whisper.
+
+But he seemed unable to move just then.
+
+"My mother; how does she bear up?"
+
+"Bravely."
+
+"She is used well?"
+
+"Very well, indeed."
+
+"I am glad for her sake. Tell her nothing of this visit, it will do no
+good, and I wish her to remain in ignorance of my whereabouts."
+
+The sound of a step died away, and the spot occupied by man and maid
+seemed safe from observation for the present.
+
+"It shall be as you wish."
+
+"Bless you, Rose. Tell me again that you believe me guiltless."
+
+"I have once said so, August, but go now, and never set foot in this
+dangerous neighborhood again."
+
+"Will you permit me to speak of that scene in the garden where you so
+misjudged me?"
+
+"No," with an impatient gesture. "I wish to destroy that picture. Don't
+force me to think of it."
+
+"But I can explain."
+
+Again came the sound of approaching steps. This time two men were seen
+approaching from either direction.
+
+"Go before you are discovered!" cried out the girl huskily.
+
+He dropped her hand and started to move away, evidently realizing his
+danger.
+
+Rose crept swiftly into the building and watched the moving form of her
+lover through the window.
+
+"Halt!"
+
+She heard the cry, and saw a police baton uplifted over the head of the
+man who had just left her side.
+
+White as death the girl gazed.
+
+Would there be trouble?
+
+She saw a hand laid on the one of her lover, then two men were engaged in
+a desperate struggle.
+
+Presently there came a bright flash and sharp report. Rose was petrified
+with horror as she gazed.
+
+The policeman sank in a heap to the walk, while a voice outside shouted:
+
+"_Murder!_"
+
+Then the man who had encountered the police officer darted swiftly from
+the vicinity.
+
+A timid man bent over the fallen officer.
+
+The Sheriff heard the startling cry from without and rushed into the
+front room, passing Rose, who crowded in the shadows, without noticing
+her. He gained the walk and soon stood over the fallen officer.
+
+"I heard a shot," cried the sheriff, in an excited tone. "Who did it? Is
+the man dead?"
+
+"I don't know answered the other," who seemed to be an ordinary
+pedestrian. "I saw a man talking with a woman there, at your door. He
+walked away and met the officer, then came a scuffle and a shot."
+
+"Exactly," muttered the sheriff, laying his hand on the man's arm. "You
+will consider yourself my prisoner."
+
+"But I haven't done a thing."
+
+"We'll see about that."
+
+At this moment the policeman moved and assumed a sitting posture.
+
+"No, the man's right," he said in a labored tone.
+
+"The fellow ran when he fired. I--I reckon he's done for me."
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"The man we wanted--Bordine!"
+
+"Is it possible?" "It seems to me it would be wise to alarm the police
+and have them on the lookout for the villain," said the citizen.
+
+Just then a hack was passing which was hailed, and the wounded officer
+placed inside with the citizen, who promised to set the city force on the
+lookout.
+
+"You might question the girl, Mr. Sheriff," said the citizen.
+
+"Yes, but I may not be able to find her now."
+
+"She entered your house I am sure."
+
+Then the hack whirled away.
+
+The sheriff hastened into the house just as Rose, pale and agitated, rose
+from a crouching posture at the window.
+
+"Was the policeman killed?"
+
+This was her question, given in an agitated voice.
+
+"Not killed, but he may die."
+
+"Just Heaven, why did he do it?"
+
+The country officer regarded the beautiful speaker keenly.
+
+"So it was you who met this man, this outlaw, outside, Miss Alstine?"
+
+She made no reply, but stood with clasped hands gazing into vacancy, the
+very picture of woe and despair.
+
+"Miss Alstine, I demand an explanation," uttered the sheriff, sternly, at
+the same time taking her arm and shaking her sharply.
+
+"Sir, I--I cannot explain."
+
+"We'll see about that. Who was the man you were talking with ten minutes
+ago, in front of this building?"
+
+"A gentleman." "His name."
+
+"I cannot give it."
+
+"You will not, you mean."
+
+She was silent.
+
+He shook her slender frame furiously.
+
+"Girl, you cannot deceive me; the man you countenanced so unblushingly
+was August Bordine, the murderer!"
+
+He hissed his words out hotly, and seemed ready to crush her with his
+wrath.
+
+"Please take your hand from my shoulder, sir," said Rose, in a tone so
+calm and chilling as to surprise the over-zealous official.
+
+He did not obey.
+
+She transfixed him with her eyes and said:
+
+"Mr. Sheriff, you have no right to insult a lady as you are doing, and I
+shall see that you are reported."
+
+He dropped his hand and stepped backward quickly. The look in her
+beautiful eyes startled him. He owed his official station to the people,
+and he seemed of a sudden to realize that this girl was a representative
+of one of the wealthiest families in Grandon. She was not on the same
+footing as the poor widow, who had been held in confinement for weeks
+without the privilege of bail.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Alstine," he said, quickly. "I see that I was
+going a little too far, but my excuse is that I am anxious to leave no
+stone unturned to effect the capture of that low villain, Bordine. It may
+be that he will have another murder to answer for after to-night."
+
+Rose shuddered at the thought.
+
+The gulf between her and August Bordine was widening to the shores of
+eternity, and even beyond.
+
+"I have no wish to deny that the man who met me to-night was Bordine. The
+meeting was wholly unexpected on my part, and I was compelled to listen
+to him."
+
+"Exactly. Well, it is more than likely that the scoundrel will be in the
+hands of the law before midnight."
+
+Then the sheriff turned away.
+
+Quite unstrung, Rose left the building without attempting to see Mrs.
+Bordine that night.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXV.
+
+                          A STARTLING WARNING.
+
+
+The remainder of that night and for several days thereafter the city was
+wild with excitement over the story of the sudden disappearance of the
+man for whom five thousand dollars reward was offered.
+
+The policeman was not mortally hurt, but the wound he had received was
+destined to lay him up for a long time.
+
+A thorough search of the city failed to discover the assassin. His bold
+return had evidently been to see his betrothed, and it was surmised by
+many that Rose Alstine could tell, if she would, the exact whereabouts of
+the murderer.
+
+Ransom Vane went to see her on the subject, but gained no satisfaction.
+Rose solemnly assured him that she had no more knowledge of her lover's
+whereabouts than he.
+
+"I do not care to talk on a subject so painful," concluded the girl.
+
+"However painful, you may be compelled to talk," retorted the young man
+in a tone of exceeding vexation. "I cannot consider it just for a woman
+to screen her lover, when he has several murdered victims to answer for."
+
+"Your insinuations are wholly unjust, Mr. Vane."
+
+"I hope they are. That a girl should defend a lover, even when he has
+stained his hands with blood, seems incredible."
+
+"It would seem incredible if such a thing occurred. I have no lover and
+consequently cannot come under your condemnation."
+
+"Do you deny that August Bordine is your lover?"
+
+"Certainly I do."
+
+"Then I have been misinformed."
+
+"Doubtless you have. Busybodies are ready to make any assertions, however
+false," said Rose calmly.
+
+There certainly was nothing to be gained here, so the eager young man
+took his departure.
+
+In the meantime where was August Bordine?
+
+Safe under the care of the eccentric Hiram Shanks, and not once had he
+ventured into Grandon. He followed implicitly the instructions of the
+peddler, who evinced intelligence beyond his appearance.
+
+When the young man learned that his mother was under arrest, he insisted
+on visiting her at once, although he was yet ill in bed, for the fever
+clung to him for many days, and weakened his strong frame so that he had
+scarcely more strength than a child.
+
+It was at a farm-house that the sick engineer had found shelter, and in
+order to effectually disguise him the indefatigable Shanks had shaved his
+beard, and cut his hair close, over which he fitted a wig of wool, and
+stained his face and arms.
+
+Thus young Bordine represented a sick mulatto to perfection. The farmer
+and his wife were in the secret, but being feed heavily by Shanks, they
+refused to betray the young man.
+
+Officers had been at the house on several occasions, but the sick farm
+hand excited no suspicions, since he in no way resembled the photographs
+of the fugitive from justice.
+
+Of course the reader will understand that the man who personated Bordine
+in his interview with Rose Alstine was the young man's double, who yet
+hovered in the city, and moved about among the people in many disguises.
+On the night in question he had boldly thrown off his disguise for the
+purpose of appealing to Rose as the fugitive, hoping to excite her
+sympathy.
+
+It proved a dear game, and come near landing him in prison. He did not
+scruple at shooting the officer who assailed him. Once he could get his
+fingers on the Alstine bank account, he would be able to defy the world.
+
+It was a bold and heartless scheme he was working, and hardly promised
+success. While the real Bordine was a fugitive from justice, the schemer
+felt that he had nothing to fear from him; but how long was this to be?
+
+The young engineer might be captured at any time, when it would be
+impossible for him to deceive Rose longer. It was this fear that troubled
+Barkswell more than aught else.
+
+He thought sometimes of the grave in the cellar of the lone shanty in the
+woods, and remembered the pair of gleaming eyes that peered down upon him
+from above. He was in disguise then, however, and even were that murder
+discovered, it could not be laid at his door.
+
+On the night in question, Barkswell, after shooting the policeman from
+his path, darted swiftly down the street a few rods, then turned into a
+dark alley.
+
+Here he resumed the disguise he had discarded, in order to meet Rose.
+
+Passing out at the other end of the alley, he met several members of the
+police force who were looking for him.
+
+"I seed a feller makin' tracks toward the river," said the seeming
+countryman in answer to a query from a blue-coat.
+
+"He's going to one of the low dives down near the dock," declared the
+sergeant of police, and then he quickly hastened on his way.
+
+The man for whom all this excitement was occasioned pursued his way
+leisurely to the suburbs of the city, and entered a small house that
+stood some rods back from the street.
+
+It was not the cottage that he had occupied at the time Rose Alstine
+mistook it for the Bordine residence. Soon after that untoward event, the
+scheming Barkswell had changed his residence to a less respectable
+neighborhood, against the protest of his wife, who was constantly urging
+him to lead a better life.
+
+All this time Barkswell was exceedingly anxious that Iris should leave
+him for a better world, where she would be less troublesome.
+
+He entered her presence to-night not in the best of humor.
+
+Iris was reclining in a rocker, looking very pale and ill. She had been
+suffering of late even more than usual, and to-night a deathly sickness
+seemed stealing through her veins, rendering her weak and helpless.
+
+You ire looking very pale, Iris. What is the trouble?"
+
+"I am feeling very miserable, Andrew."
+
+"You are always talking that way, my dear."
+
+"But I feel that this is something different. I--I am fearful that I
+shan't live long."
+
+"Nonsense," with a cheery laugh he knew so well how to assume when the
+occasion demanded.
+
+His cheerfulness was contagious, and she smiled faintly.
+
+"If you would only reform--"
+
+"Not a word on that threadbare question, Iris," he interrupted quickly.
+"I am tired of it, and you know it. I've something here that'll be good
+for your nerves."
+
+He drew a bottle from his pocket and poured a few drops into a glass that
+stood near. Then, mixing with water, he offered it to his wife.
+
+She drank it without a word.
+
+"You will soon feel better, dear," he assured her in the kindest tone
+imaginable.
+
+"Oh, dear, I hope so."
+
+She closed her eyes, and was soon in a profound sleep. Barkswell sat
+watching her, the thin face and hollow eyes, and muttered to himself:
+
+"She suffers, poor girl, but I will be merciful. She shall not suffer
+long."
+
+Then he came to his feet and began pacing the room with measured tread in
+front of his calmly sleeping wife.
+
+There were many contending emotions in the breast of Andrew Barkswell as
+he paced the floor in front of his sleeping wife.
+
+If he ever possessed a spark of human sympathy, the past few weeks of his
+life in Grandon had obliterated the feeling.
+
+One more life stood between him and his goal; that life was even now on
+the verge of the unknown.
+
+"I might throttle her," he muttered in a half audible tone, as his
+glittering eyes peered into the quiet face of the slumberer. "No one
+would be the wiser, and then I would be free to pursue my wooing of the
+heiress."
+
+He moved a step nearer the sleeping woman. His fingers twitched and
+turned about, as though itching diabolical work. His breath came hot and
+hard above the false gray beard that adorned his chin.
+
+He lifted his hands, made a forward movement, as if to carry into
+execution the dastard work his heart had conjured up. One step, and he
+came to a sudden pause.
+
+A strange sound greeted his ears and held his steps. The sound seemed to
+proceed from the window.
+
+Glancing toward it, the would-be homicide saw on the pane, written in
+letters of blood:
+
+"_Murderer, beware! The hounds of justice are on your trail, and will
+strike when you least expect it!_"
+
+Slowly the words faded out, yet Andrew Barkswell stood there, riveted to
+the floor, staring as though petrified into a marble image.
+
+"Heavens!"
+
+With this one exclamation Barkswell sprang forward and gazed out into the
+night. He thought he saw a form moving away in the gloom. He threw up the
+sash and called after the form, but no answer came back, and then he
+dropped the sash, waking his wife.
+
+"Delusion!" he muttered under his breath; and yet he trembled and was
+very pale.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+                         THE PLOTTER'S VICTORY.
+
+
+Rose Alstine did not visit the widow in her prison home for some days
+after her encounter with the counterfeit August Bordine. In fact, she was
+quite ill for a time, and kept her room, refusing to see any one, not
+excepting her cousin Janet.
+
+"What a tormented little fool," declared the old maid. "If a man had used
+me as this one has Cousin Rose, do you think I'd take on, and make myself
+miserable over his villainy? No, I wouldn't--"
+
+"But you'd go for another man at once," put in Sallie, the maid, who had
+overheard the remark of Miss Williams.
+
+"Faugh! I'd keep clear of the vampires, I tell you," snorted the old
+maid, with a toss of her diminutive head.
+
+"It seems you've been doing that pretty thoroughly in the past, Miss
+Williams," retorted Sallie, with a malicious little laugh.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" demanded Miss Williams, tartly.
+
+"Oh, don't fly mad, Miss, I was only speaking from a historical point of
+view. Judging from the past, it seems to me you wouldn't be apt to have
+more than a dozen beaux dangling after you after they'd used you mean as
+you say--"
+
+"Girl, I'll have you discharged."
+
+"You can't do that," retorted Sallie, defiantly.
+
+"I'll show you, huzzy!" and the old maid flounced from the room.
+
+"I'd like to see the likes of her turning me off," muttered the maid. "I
+don't think Miss Rose'll pay any attention to that vinegar-cruet."
+
+And in this opinion the maid was not far wrong. Rose did not permit her
+cousin to interfere in the least with the internal relations of the
+household.
+
+In the evening, while Rose was in the parlor for the first time in
+several days, a visitor was announced, a gentleman.
+
+"Who is it, Sallie?"
+
+"Stranger, ma'am."
+
+"What does he want?"
+
+But at this moment the visitor took the liberty to make himself known in
+person, a tall, slender man, with gray beard, neatly dressed, and
+evidently of the upper class.
+
+Rose greeted the stranger politely and offered a chair.
+
+Of course the maid, seeing that she was no longer needed, passed out and
+closed the door.
+
+"To what do I owe the honor of this visit, sir?" questioned Rose.
+
+"I could not stay away longer. I have been burning to see you and have it
+out," said the man in a trembling voice; then, with a quick movement he
+removed a wig and revealed a young and pleasant face.
+
+Rose recoiled.
+
+"August Bordine!"
+
+He stood before her with outstretched hands and pleading eyes. It was
+hard for her to resist that look, yet she viewed him coldly, and refused
+to look in his face.
+
+"Don't scorn me until you hear my plea, Rose," he said in a passionate
+outcry, that thrilled a chord in her heart.
+
+"Oh, sir, why did you come? Are you not aware that you risk your life?"
+
+"I would risk Heaven for you, my darling. I know how much I risk in
+coming here, but I must have this horrible unrest settled for all time.
+See, on my bended knees I swear to you, Rose, I am innocent of the murder
+of that poor girl. It is a great mistake all round, and I mean to give
+myself up and stand trial.
+
+"I have been a coward without your love, Rose. You cannot imagine how
+your scorn has weakened me, and the whole affair has been one round of
+ghastly mistakes. I am here to-night to tell you the truth. You have
+constantly denied me audience, and so to-night I resolved to see you or
+die in the attempt. As an excuse I plead only my deep love, and my
+innocence, which I believe I shall be able to prove. I hear that you have
+been kind to my mother in prison, and to-day I learn that she was
+permitted to return to her lonely home through your interference in her
+behalf.
+
+"For this I thank you, and if a life-time of devotion can repay you it
+shall be yours--"
+
+"Cease, sir," Rose interrupted at the first opportunity. "I am willing to
+believe you innocent of that awful crime at Ridgewood, but there are
+other crimes as wicked as murder--"
+
+"I know," he cried, rising and clasping his hands, while he bent a
+pleading, wistful look into her face. "You refer to that scene in the
+garden." "I do," coldly.
+
+"You have never permitted me to explain that."
+
+"It is not susceptible of explanation."
+
+"It is--"
+
+"I must take counsel of my senses, Mr. Bordine," persisted Rose,
+trampling fiercely on her own heart. "I know that that woman was your
+wife. I heard enough to convince me of this. Your perfidy ought to make
+me hate you."
+
+"And you do hate me, Rose?"
+
+"No--"
+
+"Thank Heaven for that."
+
+"Leave me now, Mr. Bordine."
+
+"Mr. Bordine!" he cried bitterly. "It is August no longer. You would
+drive me from you without permitting me to explain. You are unjust,
+Rose."
+
+"Never. Would to Heaven I could be!"
+
+What did she mean?
+
+A sudden, wild hope entered the heart of the schemer. He was making even
+better progress than he had anticipated.
+
+"You will, you must hear my explanation of that scene in the garden,"
+persisted he. "If you can scorn and cast me aside after you know the
+truth then I am willing to go."
+
+Rose sank to a seat.
+
+She had been standing, up to this moment, but now she felt strangely weak
+and unsteady. He, however, refused to be seated until, as he said, he
+made his peace with her.
+
+Their interview had a witness suspected by neither.
+
+Miss Williams, piqued at the attentions her cousin received, resolved to
+play the eavesdropper, and so she crouched in the hall at the parlor door
+and listened to every word that fell from the lips of the gentleman
+visitor.
+
+Although Miss Williams was not the brightest female in the world, she was
+far removed from a fool, and soon she learned enough to convince her that
+the outlaw, August Bordine, was in the parlor.
+
+This discovery was one which agitated the old maid not a little.
+
+She remembered the immensity of the reward offered for this man, and
+realized that if she could win a portion of it, it would be of wonderful
+help to her as a matter of pin-money, and it might influence some man to
+take pity on her single state and propose.
+
+When the old maid had revolved these thoughts in her brain sufficiently,
+she rose to her feet and donning hat and shawl hastened from the house.
+
+"You imagined that that poor woman you heard addressing me as husband
+that day was my wife," proceeded Barkswell, after a moment of silence,
+"but that was where the trouble came in and the mistake rose."
+
+"Do you deny--"
+
+"It is not necessary. That woman was my sister, but she has been out of
+her mind for years. Four years ago I placed her in an asylum near
+Rochester for treatment, and this spring she left the place, declared
+cured by the doctors. Of course I was overjoyed at this, and hastened to
+remove her to my home in this city, where I have resided for more than
+two years, as you know. Mother wished to keep the fact of her having a
+daughter secret until we were sure that the terrible malady would not
+return. It did return, and so we have kept my poor sister very close for
+some time. She has strange hallucinations, and imagines that I am her
+husband, and that she is ill-treated. It was a love affair that turned
+her brain, and I suppose this has much to do with her present
+hallucination."
+
+In measured tones he uttered this information, and it did not seem
+possible that the man was uttering a deliberate lie.
+
+Rose moved uneasily in her seat.
+
+His dark eyes, full of an intense love-light, were fixed on her face.
+
+He saw that his falsehood was having its effect.
+
+"You no doubt wonder why you haven't heard of this sooner. You must
+remember that I have failed to gain an audience with you since that
+hour."
+
+"August, are you speaking the truth?"
+
+Her face was ghastly white, and her full bosom rose and fell with the
+violence of her inward emotions.
+
+"If you doubt, I am ready to swear it," he cried, sinking to her feet
+once more, bowing his head as a subject might to his sovereign.
+
+"No, no," she cried suddenly. "Rise up, August. Heaven help me and _you_
+if this is a deception. I can do no other way than to believe."
+
+He uttered a glad cry and pressed her hands to his lips, covering it with
+kisses.
+
+She sat like one in a dream, unresisting, feeling a portion of bliss, yet
+filled with a vague alarm that was far from pleasant.
+
+"And now I shall not fear to brave the world, and proclaim and prove my
+innocence," he cried boldly, coming to his feet.
+
+She regarded him with a faint, fluttering heart, the faintest impress of
+a smile on her beautiful face.
+
+Was it possible that happiness was in store for her in the near future?
+Even while these thoughts filtered through her brain he spoke again.
+
+"Poor Iris, she will no longer suffer."
+
+"Your sister?"
+
+"Yes; she died to-night."
+
+"That is terrible."
+
+"And yet it is best so. Insanity is far worse than death; at any rate it
+seems so to me," he said solemnly and slow. "And now, dear Rose, I have
+but one request to make. If we could only be married before this trial I
+should feel doubly strong to face the world."
+
+She opened her lips to reply, but the words were drowned in their
+inseption by the crash of feet in the hall.
+
+Swiftly the man sprang across the carpet and turned the key in the lock,
+just as a hand shook the door, and a loud voice demanded admittance.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+                             A DEMON'S DEED.
+
+
+"My presence here has been discovered," he whispered hoarsely. "What
+shall we do?"
+
+He had seemingly forgotten his determination to face the world and fight
+for his life as a man should.
+
+Under the excitement of the occasion Rose thought only of saving her
+lover from the hands of rude men, who looked upon him as a wild beast
+justly their prey.
+
+"Open the door, or I will break it down!" thundered a voice without.
+
+"This way, quick!" cried Rose.
+
+She led the way from another room that led from the parlor. Raising a
+window at the side of the house she bade her lover pass through.
+
+He obeyed, and dropped safely to the ground. He had been far-seeing
+enough to readjust his wig, and a moment later an elderly gentleman
+walked from the rear of the house and gained the street without
+molestation.
+
+Then Miss Alstine walked back to the door, turned the key and admitted
+two men wearing the police uniform.
+
+"Quick! Don't let the villain escape!"
+
+"What does this mean?" demanded Rose, quickly.
+
+"Where is the man you had in here?"
+
+"What man?"
+
+"Do you deny that a man was in this room?"
+
+"There seems to be two at present," retorted Rose, with provoking
+coolness.
+
+"Will you answer my question, girl?"
+
+"Please ask it, and I will see."
+
+"Where is the man who was with you a short time since?"
+
+"I cannot tell you."
+
+"Cannot?"
+
+"That's what I said."
+
+"Will not, you mean."
+
+"No, I cannot," asserted Rose.
+
+"Be careful, girl, or it may become my duty to place you under arrest."
+
+"I would not have you neglect your duty," retorted Rose.
+
+"Do you still refuse to reveal the whereabouts of August Bordine?"
+
+"I certainly refuse to tell what I do not know. He is not here--"
+
+"But he has been here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"When did he go?"
+
+"Not long since."
+
+"Don't waste words with her," said the speaker's companion. "Let's search
+the house."
+
+"I fear it's too late now."
+
+Nevertheless the two men went through the dwelling, even invading the
+sanctity of Rose Alstine's bedchamber. Nothing was found, however. The
+fugitive from justice had made good his escape.
+
+And thus pretty Rose Alstine had assisted in a criminal act without
+realizing it.
+
+The police debated about arresting the girl, but in the end concluded not
+to do so. They were a chagrined lot, however, who returned to the
+station.
+
+In the meantime Andrew Barkswell, safely disguised, hurried to the house
+in the suburbs where he had left his wife alone, and, as he believed,
+dying.
+
+He was therefore surprised to find her still breathing, as he entered the
+room where she lay on a low couch, with the room in shadow.
+
+"How are you feeling, Iris?"
+
+He paused an instant at her bedside and gazed down into the sunken face.
+
+"I--I feel bad, very bad."
+
+"Curse it, I wish you were dead!" He did not utter the words aloud,
+however. Instead he drew a chair to the side of the bed and smoothed the
+dark hair from her white brow, and pretended to feel the deepest sympathy
+for her sufferings.
+
+"You remained away a long time, Andrew," murmured the thin lips of the
+sick wife.
+
+"Did you miss me, dear?"
+
+"Very much. Promise you will remain with me until the--the last, Andrew."
+
+"I won't leave again until you are better," he said, with a peculiar
+gleam of the eye.
+
+"Then you will stay always."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"I shall never be better, Andrew."
+
+"Nonsense."
+
+"You always say that, but I know that I am in my last sickness, and--and
+I want to have a solemn talk with you, Andrew, the last I will have to
+say to you on earth."
+
+He fidgeted uneasily in his chair, but could not well refuse to listen.
+
+"Nonsense."
+
+But there was no heart in the word. He wished she would hasten her
+demise. In fact had he thought she was yet alive he would not have so
+soon returned to the house. It was her dead body he came to see, not a
+breathing woman, whose claim on him was still paramount to all others.
+
+"Andrew, where is Perry, my brother?"
+
+Her mind seemed to be wandering somewhat.
+
+"How should I know, dear?"
+
+"True, he is such an unsteady body. I have worried about him of late. It
+has been many days since I have seen him."
+
+The man who sat there in the shadows was silent. So long as she did not
+talk to him he was content. Her constant upbraiding in the past, although
+richly merited, was certainly unpleasant to the last degree. He hoped she
+might die without thinking of him or his misdeeds again.
+
+He was not to escape thus easily, however.
+
+"Poor Victoria! Will it ever be forgiven?"
+
+He started at mention of that name.
+
+Sleuth-hounds were on the track of the murderer, and it was poor
+satisfaction to know that his only chance of escape lay in the punishment
+of an innocent man, who so strongly resembled him as to complicate
+matters to a wonderful degree.
+
+"Why do you mention that name?" he ventured hoarsely.
+
+"Because, poor innocent, it was your fault, all yours. Did they find the
+dagger, the cold steel that did the bloody, cruel deed?"
+
+"Don't dwell on that," he said in an agitated way. "What was it you were
+about to tell me for my good, dear?"
+
+"Yes, it was to you I was to talk. You will listen, now that--that I am
+dying, Andrew?"
+
+"Yes, I will listen."
+
+"Promise me that after I am dead you will reform and lead a better life,
+that we may meet over there, when--when you cross the river of death."
+
+"I promise."
+
+He was anxious to have the interview over, for it was not pleasant to sit
+and listen to her sorrowful words.
+
+"You promise. Alas! how many times have I heard that word from your lips,
+and as many times it was broken."
+
+She sighed deeply and remained silent for some minutes.
+
+Then he was startled by a low sob.
+
+"Nonsense, Iris, don't cry. You're not so far gone as you imagine."
+
+"I--I am so wicked," she murmured.
+
+"You wicked! You're an angel, Iris, and I am ready to swear to it."
+
+"But you do not know, you do not know," she wailed. "I have no right to
+lecture you on your bad deeds, no right, no right."
+
+She threw up her arms and clung sobbing to his neck.
+
+"There, there, never mind," he said soothingly. "Take a sip of this and
+you will feel better."
+
+Disengaging her arms from his neck he drew a goblet, half full of water,
+toward him, and emptied the contents of a small vial into it.
+
+"Enough to kill a giant," he muttered low, as he placed the goblet to the
+lips of his wife.
+
+One swallow and then she uttered a great cry and sank back quivering.
+
+He sprang to his feet replacing with trembling hand the goblet on the
+stand at the head of the bed.
+
+"That will fix her," he muttered.
+
+"Andrew, Andrew, what have you done?" she questioned, gaspingly.
+
+"How do you feel?"
+
+His eyes fairly glared at her.
+
+"Worse--_that was poison!_"
+
+He uttered a guttural laugh. Then in a fit of madness bent low and
+hissed:
+
+"You are right, old woman, it was poison! It isn't the first dose you
+have taken, either. I meant to have you out of my way before now."
+
+What demon possessed him to tell her this?
+
+His manner had changed suddenly, indeed.
+
+There was the look of a demon on his countenance. He seemed to gloat over
+the sufferings of his dying wife.
+
+"Andrew, oh, Andrew!"
+
+It was a rebuking cry, but it failed to touch the calloused heart of the
+being before her.
+
+"You have tormented me continually, Iris," he said, with cool
+deliberation, "and now my hour of triumph has come."
+
+He laughed hoarsely.
+
+He seemed to enjoy the ghostly horror exhibited on the face of his
+devoted wife.
+
+"Let me tell you what I have done," he proceeded, with the malice born of
+a devil's nature. "I get rid of you to make room for another."
+
+"Spare me, Andrew," moaned the pallid lips of the dying woman, already
+foam-flecked from the effects of the inward workings of the poison last
+administered.
+
+"I will not. You tormented me until life become a burden, harping on my
+shortcomings. You are too good for this world, Iris--just proper for an
+angel, and so 'tis best for you to go. I have found one who will fill
+your place to perfection, and make me a happy man, since she brings
+wealth to back her claims. I speak of Rose Alstine. She has promised to
+wed me as soon as you are dead--we have it all arranged!"
+
+Heartless, wicked, woeful words.
+
+As he came to a pause the sick woman uttered a great, gasping cry, and
+went into convulsions, foam and blood flecking her lips.
+
+It was the dying agony, he believed.
+
+She seemed beyond help; a few minutes would see her silent in death. It
+was well. Turning his back upon the scene he strode from the room, and
+from the house.
+
+Scarcely had he departed when two persons ran up the steps, tried the
+door and found it yield to their touch.
+
+"It may be too late, doctor, but I hope not."
+
+When the two men entered the room we recognize one of them as Hiram
+Shanks, the peddler, although he is now neatly clad, and not so repulsive
+to look upon as formerly.
+
+"Too late!" exclaimed Shanks' companion, as he bent over Mrs. Barkswell.
+"The woman is dead!"
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+                              FACE TO FACE.
+
+
+"Dead! No, no, it must not be," cried the peddler, in an excited tone.
+
+The doctor felt the woman's pulse.
+
+"There is life certainly," he said, after a moment. "It is possible that
+she may be revived."
+
+"A hundred dollars shall be your fee, doctor, if you revive her so she
+can speak again," declared Shanks in a tone of the most intense
+eagerness.
+
+"I will try."
+
+Placing a medicine case on the stand at the head of the bed, the doctor,
+whose gray hairs seemed to indicate long experience at least in the
+profession, proceeded to open and pour out a dark liquid in a spoon.
+
+Then he forced open the jaws of the poor woman, and was gratified to see
+her swallow it.
+
+A second later she breathed spasmodically and soon showed signs of life.
+
+Shanks sat watching every movement with the most intense interest.
+
+The physician succeeded beyond his most sanguine expectations. It was a
+most powerful antidote to the poison he knew had been administered by the
+treacherous husband.
+
+In the course of twenty minutes the woman was able to speak again,
+although only in an extremely low tone.
+
+"Can you communicate with me, Mrs. Barkswell?"
+
+"Yes," faintly.
+
+"Your husband has attempted to murder you; do you realize it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I am afraid you may never be any better, and unless you tell us what you
+know, an innocent man may suffer for murder that I believe _he_
+committed. Do you comprehend?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so," answered Mrs. Barkswell in a stronger voice.
+
+The doctor administered a second dose in brandy, of the antidote, and
+then the sick woman seemed quite revived for the time.
+
+"There is a plot to ruin one of the most exemplary young men in Grandon,"
+proceeded Shanks in a low tone. "The man who has plotted his destruction
+is the man who left you but a few minutes since after believing that you
+were removed from his path forever. Surely you can have no love for that
+evil man."
+
+"No, no, that is all dead now."
+
+"Then it is needless to tell you that he is an outlaw of the deepest dye.
+I want you to tell me what you know of the murder at Ridgewood. He
+confessed to you that he robbed the house, and it may be that you know if
+it was his hand that used _this!_"
+
+And then Shanks held up a gleaming dagger, the design of the hilt being a
+serpent's head.
+
+At sight of the weapon the woman shrank back among the pillows and seemed
+terrified and about to go into another fit.
+
+"Calm yourself," uttered the peddler, lowering the weapon. "You have seen
+that dagger before."
+
+"Yes! oh, yes!"
+
+"Do you mind telling all about it? It may be the means of saving a human
+life, it certainly will save a young girl from the trap set for her by
+this man, who administered poison to rid himself of his wife."
+
+"I will tell."
+
+This was sufficient. The doctor administered another dose of cordial, and
+then, in tremulous tones, the dying wife, even then in the shadow of
+death, told a strange and startling story.
+
+When she had finished, her face blanched and she sank suddenly away.
+
+"Quick! the cordial!" cried Shanks, but it was too late. When the man
+lifted her head to administer the medicine the woman hung a dead weight.
+
+"She is dead," said the doctor.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Bordine was once more back at her cottage home, thanks to the kindly
+influence of Miss Rose Alstine.
+
+Soon after the widow's return, Rose called at the cottage to condole with
+her over the death of her demented daughter, and the still absent son.
+
+"We all have our cross to bear, Mrs. Bordine. I believe, however, that
+the worst is past. I believe that August will return and vindicate his
+innocence in the courts."
+
+"Ah, bless you for that, Miss Rose," uttered the old lady, with tears in
+her old eyes. "You are an angel if there ever was one."
+
+The two walked into the garden at the side of the house, where the air
+was cool and balmy.
+
+"I saw your son last night, Mrs. Bordine."
+
+"What! Saw August?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The widow was all interest at once.
+
+Rose then related the interview she had with Andrew Barkswell, laboring
+under the delusion that he was her lover.
+
+"And he said he would surely come again and stand trial?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Dear boy, Heaven and I know that he is innocent, but it may be
+impossible to prove it."
+
+"Truth will prevail."
+
+"I hope it will."
+
+"And that poor girl, I know how you must feel at her death, with your son
+absent. I've do doubt he will try and be at the funeral."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+And yet Mrs. Bordine stared at Rose in a sort of dazed way that proved
+that she did not fully understand.
+
+"I would not weep over poor Iris, Mrs. Bordine."
+
+"Iris?"
+
+"Yes. I feel, and so does August, that the girl is better off--"
+
+"What are you talking about? Who is Iris?"
+
+It was Rose Alstine's turn to stare.
+
+"I am aware that you have tried faithfully to keep the secret, Mrs.
+Bordine, but August told me all about it last night. He thought it was
+better that I should know."
+
+The widow rubbed her eyes and still stared at the girl in complete
+bewilderment.
+
+"I'm sure I never heard of Iris, and I don't know what you mean."
+
+"I speak of your poor daughter--"
+
+"Daughter! My daughter?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Goodness alive! child, I never had but one daughter, and she died in
+infancy. That was nigh about thirty years ago. Her name was Mary."
+
+Rose regarded the mother with a puzzled expression.
+
+"Then you have no crazed daughter--"
+
+"Never. What put such an idea into your head, child?"
+
+It was August, but Rose had no time to explain, for at that moment a
+shadow fell athwart the grass, and both looked up to see a man standing
+before them with a hat down low over his eyes.
+
+Rose uttered a cry.
+
+Mrs. Bordine stood staring, but when the man lifted his hat she uttered a
+glad cry and rushed to his arms.
+
+It was, or seemed to be, August Bordine.
+
+Rose waited for her turn with a wildly beating heart.
+
+"Stand aside mother, I would speak with Rose."
+
+The mother stepped aside then.
+
+There was something in the man's voice that sounded unnatural. She felt
+chilled and rebelled. Could this be her boy, whom she loved so dearly,
+casting her coldly aside for another. A mother's instincts are strong,
+and she stared at the man with tear dimmed eyes as he took the hand of
+Rose and led her aside.
+
+"I could remain away no longer," he said, in low tones. "As I told you
+last night, I need you to strengthen me for the ordeal that is to come.
+Will you do it?"
+
+But in spite of herself just then, Rose was unable to speak. She trembled
+and felt cold chills passing over her body.
+
+What did it mean?
+
+The same influence was at work that had troubled the mother. She glanced
+timidly into the man's face, and then trembled visibly. How strangely old
+he looked, much different from the gay August of former times. Had his
+troubles wrought him this change?
+
+"You do not answer, Rose," he urged complainingly, "Must I then lose your
+sympathy, and meet the ordeal alone?"
+
+"No, no. I will be with you," she cried, quickly.
+
+"As my wife?"
+
+Again she was silent, trembling like a leaf.
+
+"Speak."
+
+"Yes," falteringly, "as your wife, August."
+
+The words seemed to have been forced from her lips.
+
+She regretted them as soon as uttered. Weak and faint, she leaned heavily
+on his arm for support.
+
+He led her tottering to Mrs. Bordine and said:
+
+"Mother, we ask your blessing. Rose has consented, and we are to be
+married at once."
+
+"Rose consented to marry you?"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Don't call me mother," uttered the widow, pushing him from her suddenly,
+"You are _not_ my son, you are an imposter!"
+
+An imposter!
+
+How the words cut into the heart of poor Rose. She recoiled, but he
+grasped her hand and started to lead her away.
+
+"Come, this is no place for us," he hissed hotly, forgetting his part in
+his rage and alarm.
+
+"Aye! he is an imposter as I am here to prove!"
+
+A clear, ringing voice uttered the words, as a young man strode from a
+tree near, tossed his hat to the green-sward, and confronted the startled
+trio.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+                            CORNERED AT LAST.
+
+
+"My son, my son!"
+
+The next instant the old lady was clasped to the breast of August
+Bordine.
+
+It was a dramatic scene.
+
+But the drama was not yet complete.
+
+Several men were striding through the garden, the two in advance wearing
+the uniform of the city police.
+
+"August Bordine, I arrest you for the murder of Victoria Vane."
+
+[Illustration: "I ARREST YOU FOR THE MURDER OF VICTORIA VANE."]
+
+A hand fell on the impostor's shoulder and a bearded face looked into
+his.
+
+There came a wild gleam to the eyes of Barkswell as he realized his
+situation.
+
+He seemed equal to the occasion, however.
+
+"A mistake, officer. Yonder stands August Bordine," and the criminal
+pointed toward the widow's son.
+
+And then, with a wailing cry, poor Rose reeled and sank fainting to the
+arms of Mrs. Bordine.
+
+At this moment the officer snapped a pair of handcuffs over the wrists of
+Barkswell, thus securing him. However, the officers seemed puzzled, and
+stared at August as if undecided what course to pursue.
+
+At this moment two others appeared on the ground--Hiram Shanks, the queer
+peddler, and Ransom Vane.
+
+"You have the right man, gentlemen," said Shanks. "These two resemble
+each other strangely, and it is this resemblance that has baffled
+detectives, and made trouble for an honest man."
+
+All eyes were fixed on the speaker, who adjusted the black patch on his
+blind eye, and spoke with the vigor of a man who knew that he was right.
+
+"Yes," put in Ransom Vane, "there has been a great mistake. This man,"
+pointing to Barkswell, "is the outlaw, and by confounding him with Mr.
+Bordine an innocent man has been deeply wronged."
+
+"It is false--"
+
+"Never mind putting in your lip," sneered the irrepressible peddler.
+"There's crimes enough against you, young man, to sink you to perdition.
+You are now arrested for the murder of a beautiful, innocent girl--"
+
+"But I never harmed her, I swear it," cried the prisoner, trembling with
+deep excitement.
+
+"Who did, then?"
+
+"I don't know; but--"
+
+"Is this yours?"
+
+Shanks held up a gleaming dagger.
+
+"No," with a start.
+
+"You have seen the weapon before?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You placed it into Bordine's house one night, where it was found by the
+officers, for the purpose of fixing that awful murder upon an innocent
+man. Do you deny that?"
+
+The outlaw was pallid and silent.
+
+"It is true, and you dare not deny it. So far so good; but, gentlemen, it
+is a mistake to suppose that this man, guilty as he is of crimes without
+number, was the one who murdered Victoria Vane."
+
+At this announcement the interest deepened on all faces, and the
+countenance of the prisoner brightened.
+
+"The person who murdered Miss Vane, with this dagger, was in turn
+murdered by Andrew Barkswell, the prisoner here."
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"Iris, your wife. _She was the assassin of Victoria Vane!_"
+
+This announcement created a great sensation. Rose had revived, and
+clinging to the strong arm of August, was listening in amazement to the
+revelations of Hiram Shanks.
+
+"I suspected it all the time," muttered the prisoner.
+
+"You did? She found Victoria reading a letter from you, and in a fit of
+insane jealousy she stole upon and drove this dagger into her throat.
+Last night the poor woman died penitent, and made a full confession
+before two witnesses."
+
+"If this is true, then we cannot detain the prisoner," said one of the
+officers.
+
+"Release me at once," demanded Barkswell.
+
+"Not so," cried Shanks. He must be held, for he is guilty of other
+crimes. The woman who died last night was murdered by poison administered
+by the hand of her husband, the man you now hold a prisoner. Dr. Wise has
+the proof that he will produce in good time. Furthermore, this man has
+another crime to answer for.
+
+"He attempted to murder August Bordine, but failed. He _did_, however,
+assassinate his wife's brother, and buried the body in the cellar of an
+old shanty in the woods upon Bear Creek."
+
+"That is false," uttered Barkswell, yet trembling and paling with fear.
+
+"I have the proof," declared Shanks.
+
+"What proof?"
+
+"My eyesight. I saw you bury your victim!"
+
+The prisoner weakened then. His handcuffs rattled and his whole frame
+swayed as though he were about to fall to the ground.
+
+"You do not deny your crime, nor the fact that besides poisoning your
+wife and murdering Perry Jounce, her brother, you assisted the latter,
+who had long been your tool, to decoy Silas Keene into a room in the rear
+of Billy Bowleg's saloon, where, some weeks ago, you committed another
+crime by hurling the detective into a well."
+
+"My soul! This is too much!" gasped the quaking villain.
+
+"Do you deny it?"
+
+No answer from Barkswell, but his head was bowed upon his breast, and a
+helpless look filled his eyes.
+
+"It would do you no good to deny that you and Perry Jounce murdered
+Detective Keene--"
+
+"How did you learn so much?" cried out the doomed man.
+
+"There were witnesses present--"
+
+"Witnesses?"
+
+"There was one."
+
+"One?"
+
+Barkswell raised his head and glared at the speaker in evident amazement.
+
+"Yes, one--myself."
+
+"I deny it."
+
+"I think I can convince you."
+
+With the words, the peddler's hand went to his head, a few passes were
+made, and the man stood transformed. It was a complete metamorphosis.
+
+On the ground lay red wig and black patch.
+
+An exclamation fell from many lips. Andrew Barkswell uttered a great cry.
+
+"Great heavens! _it is Silas Keene, the detective!_"
+
+It was true.
+
+August Bordine had suspected this for some time, and was consequently the
+least astonished of any present.
+
+"Although you cast me into that well, I did not perish," proceeded the
+detective, after a moment. "The well was not deep, and there was no water
+in it, so that the fall only stunned me a little. I soon recovered, and
+managed to climb to the surface on the jagged stones. It is not necessary
+to detail how I made my way from the building. No one saw me, and once
+free, I resolved to disguise myself completely, and thus work to better
+advantage.
+
+"You of course supposed me dead, and so proceeded with more boldness than
+you would otherwise have done. This suited me. Your resemblance to August
+Bordine puzzled me for a time. I did not discover the truth until I saw
+you both together the time that my faithful Tige prevented you from
+murdering Bordine in the fisherman's shanty. I dogged your steps and
+found where your wife lived. I mistrusted you meant to destroy her, and
+at one time tried to frighten you from your wicked purpose. I failed, but
+succeeded in capturing you at last."
+
+The detective paused.
+
+The criminal said nothing.
+
+He could not; he was completely broken up, and would have sunk to the
+ground had not one of the stout policemen supported him with his arms.
+
+A low sob fell on the ears of all.
+
+The eyes of the group turned to Rose. She rested on the breast of August
+and was weeping bitterly.
+
+She, too, was broken up.
+
+When the wicked cause of all the trouble was led away to prison, and none
+remained in the little garden but the old mother, August, and Rose, the
+latter disengaged himself from his hands and said, with a quiver in her
+voice and a moisture in her eye:
+
+"I feel like going away by myself and never looking you in the face
+again, August." "Why so, darling?"
+
+"Because I have been such a fool."
+
+He drew her to him, however, and kissed her tears away, while he
+whispered:
+
+"The clouds have drifted away, darling, and we are destined to be happy
+yet."
+
+She clung to him closely, and the widow understood and helped them. It
+was indeed sunshine after the storm.
+
+                    *       *       *       *       *
+
+Andrew Barkswell confessed his guilt in open court, and was sentenced to
+prison for life. Two years later he died. Thus ended an eventful and
+wicked career. Of course the reward was paid over in due time, and Silas
+Keene was the lion of the hour, since he had cornered a double murderer,
+and cleared up the mystery of Victoria Vane's sad death, who had fallen
+by the hand of a jealous woman.
+
+And now adieu.
+
+                                THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Five Thousand Dollars Reward, by Frank Pinkerton
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