Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-03-09
LI0)RI}IAL AEERW1nS~
\, q esS,:z@x1bb FORTUNE.
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the Sheriff, in an aWed whisper.
"Leave me alone with him." returned |
Dacre, assuming a confidence he scarcely
experienced.
The Sheriff bowed assentingly, and
with sigh of relief left the apartment.
Dacre closed and locked the door after
him. Then he approached lis crouchiEg,
muttering hireling.
''Whartonn'
Something in the stern domineering
tone of the tyrant, potent as of old to
sway him for the moment, fixed the
mind of the man addressed
"Well, faithful old partner" cried Da-
ere, Shaping the trembling wretch IA
miliarly on the shoulder. you've
pulled the wool over their eyes, all
| of them. Why, man! you would make
your fortune on the mimic stage. And
now, to business!"
Business? Yes yes! Rothschild ca
| bled me yesterday"
'Shut up that jargon! Your part of
the farce is over now," Interrupted Da-
cre" We're to leave, Wharton, we're
to divide, depart, and enjoy our fortune
IN foreign lands. Worth the plotting
and the waiting, eh! old friend? Quick,
John! the package"
|
| like an automaton. s'There was one
of drafts-from the Bank of England"
Arnold Dacre started. He regarded
his companion sharply. Something in
the dazed. uncertain eyes chilled him
with a sudden, sickening sense OF dis
aster. He shook him roughly.
''Come, Wharton! collect your scat
tered wis., he ordered impatieutly."
1.-THE package 1 want it. Where have
you hidden it?"
SIT sunk" With shrek that filled
his auditor, John Wharton screamed
forth the word, and sprang to the floor
with eyes Of terror once more. ''There
was Webster starving to death in prison
cell. there was Merwyn murdered by us,
there was pretty, golden-haired Flora
choked to death in the vault. They took
it, and sunk, dancing, dancing, dancing"
The wild outburst terminated in
yell of agony. Frothing at the mouth.
torn in terrible convulsion, the old
bank clerk sank helpless at the feet of
! the appalled, plotter.
White to the lips that plotter reeled
where he stood With heart of lead,
and a brain whirling, he realized that he
had sold his soul for a glittering bride
that had eluded his eager grasp at last.
For this was no acting-this was no
feirned lunacy.
He had given his hireling part to
play, and full-well had old John Whar-
ton enacted the role.
He would never be called on to testify
in court-no fear of that now! No dan
ger of complications arising from what
those wtless lips might utter
For Wharton was stark, raving mad.
CHAPTER XII.
| DISGUISED.
With empty hands and empty heart,
Arnold Dacre stood regarding the wreck
of his last hope. Sin had brought it's fit
reward.
His soul sank as he realized that those
babbling lips might never betray the
secret of the missing package, or, if ever,
too late to avail him, for flight was now
more imperative than ever. With an
abundance of money, he could pick his
path to safety, penniless, he was as for
lorn fugitive as the escaped eX-convlct
himself.
1.-THE money-the money!-where was
it-would it escape him after all his
careful plotting? The thought burned
into his Keeling BRAIN and coupled with
it was the bitter knowledge that he had
lost Flora Merwyn, that every waning
hour might be bringing the resolute
avenger, Ray Webster. closer and closer
upon his track.
For Ray Webster was alive-he knew
it, circumstances proved it, and the fair,
crushed girl who had seen her lover SEEM
ingly dashed to his doom, and had fran
ticallY rushed away to share the fate OF
a beloved father, had mourned him
vainly.
Stunned, benumbed, helpless, Ray
| Mob ha1 Ann hJrfh no oo,
erous waters of the river upon broad
rock. There, painting, nerveless, he had
lain for an hour or more.
! What the scheming scoundrel Arnold
Dacre had theorzed as to his latter
movements, was practically correct. He
had finally gained sufficient strength to
swim ashore to find Flora gone. and too
late to overtake and warn her imperiled
father, but not too late to resolve to de-
feat the schemes of the man whose false
testimony had placed upon him the
brand of the convict.
He knew-ah! how surely he knew!
that careful plotting had robbed him of
his good name. He knew that the fail
ure of the bank must be the work of his
enemy, Arnold Dacre. By secluded
lanes, stealing from shelter to shelter,
fearing recognition, pursuit, arrest. he
finally gained the stables of the Merwyn
homestead, and thence the court that
terminated directly under the windows
of the private office of the bank.
His had been the hand that had placed
the ladder against the window sill, his
the face that had peered in on a scene
that fully evidenced the villainy of the
false-hearted cashier. He heard his in
junction to Wharton, he realized the
peril of Flora, he scerned his own
weakness as a champion-he, hunted
fugitive! He saw Flora shut into the
dark vault. Then, his pulses throbbng,
he sprang into the room, once it was
vacated. Memory supplied the old