The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1871-01-31


q
We must now shift the scene to solic-
itor's Office in San Antonio. Seated
around covered table, upon which are
strewn various deeds and sealed docu-
ments, is group of gentlemen busily en-
gagged in discussing the appropriation of
an estate. Two of them are trustees and
executors of the will left by Hiram Som
ers Esq, recently deceased. Prominent
among the number is the solicitor him
self; and opposite to him, nonchalent and
insolent as ever, is man in whom we
recognize the black beard and wolfsh smile
of worthy Mr.. Hickson. A pocket-book
Guy Somers is in his hand, and pair
of half emptied saddle-bags lie on chair
beside him.
" As you perceive, Mr.. Somers" says
the solicitor, addressing Hickson, the
will names you as the only surviving rel
ative of the deceased. In your letter of
the 9th inst, you acknowledged our re-
mittance of five hundred dollars on ac-
count"
And sent a receipt" interrupted Hick-
son, blandly.
"And sent receipt" acquescod the
lawyer. "Your letters here agree with
our correspondence-memorandum seems
to tally, and all correct and conclusive
1t only remains to draw up the forms,
and you step comfortably into a handsome
competency, sir. Permit me, Mr.. Somers,
to congratulate you~
Mr.. Somers, alias Hickson, bows and
shows his teeth the trustees and others
crowd around and offer their Fluctuations.
A sudden sound causes the heir to listen
intently.
What's that?' he asks, sharply.
Mr.. SOLICITOR goes to the window and
looks out.
~ heard nothing he replies; moth
ing but the golloping of a horse"
There are more than one" mutters
Hickson; " 1t sounds like regiment of
cavalryp
Another pause, during which the trus-
tees renew their chat, the solicitor leaves
the window, and the pens of the clerks
rattle furiously over the parchments that
are to enrich villain. Again Hickson
starts and listens; the sound has become
louder and clearer; the galloping of hor-
ses urged to their utmost speed.
Hickson was right There was more
| than one
" Some one in deuce of hurry !"
observed one of the trustees.
GA Government dispatch, most likely
suggests the solicitor. We are ready,
gentlemen. Mr.. Somers, your name to
this document, if you please"
Mr.. Solicitor hands the pen, and then
spreads out newly filled deed. The
trustees sign one by one. AS the last
name is written, confused murmur of
voices is heard without, footsteps in the
yard below, a hurried tramp upon the
stairs.
Your signature, Mr.. Somers," says
the solicitor. "We are waiting"
But Hickson does not take the profered
pen. He trcmbles. His face is deadly
pale. He utters cry in which horror
and rage are strangely blended. All re-
gard him with surprise, and, following
his riveted gaze perceive, for the first
time, pale face in the doorway hand
some, resolute face, with profusion of
auburn hair, and pair Of grey eyes fix
ed reproachfulIy upon the shrinking
llickson, who gazes in return and gnashes
his teeth, the embodiment of hunted
wolf at bay-a human wolf turning upon
his hunters.
who is this man ?" bursts in general
exclamation from every mouth.
" Ask that man" thunders the intru-
der, striding into the room.
An impostor-a madmanw eiacula-
ted Hickson, between his teeth. GA
miserable relative Of mine, who is the
scourge Of my life-an insane wretch,
gentleman, escaped from an asylum, and
assuming my name You shall hear him
presently" he eadds, with desperate effort,
as a CLEAN of hope shoots to his eyes at
the ingenious thought.
The stranger advances Il step
Gentleman" he begins, my name is
Guy Somers, brother to the man whose
will you are about to execute This man
is liar, and villan-an impostor in
act, a murderer at heart | have the
proofs of what say, and you shall see
them !"
Past the astonished group the stranger
strides to his saddle-bags, and plungng
in his hand produces leather case, un-
locks it, and handing to the solicitor n
Photographic portrait of himself a speak
ing likencss-points to the signature at
the bottom-"Guy Somers, New York