The Globe-republican. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1889-1910, 1893-03-10

garded her much with the angry glar,
Of an enemy.
mo. you DON'T" he said. Where die
you get that name-Marston? Who tolC
you? Speak! Have they guessed hi:
hiding place AGAIN." the man half NUT
tered to himself
Il got the name from a letter-a let
ter from Mr.. MarstOn himself" explain
ed Beatrice.
@Oh!" muttered the man. I'll guar.
antee he never told you to use tha
name herea bouts, all the same. Rails
ton, girl. Do you understand? Never
whisper MarstOn again, if you're friends
OF ours"
Can 1 see him?"
Can you see who?"
Mr.. Mar-Mr. Ralston? He SEM
for me-"
He did,"
Yes. Take me to him. He will tell
you it is all right.
The man studied bit. He relocke
the gate and made sure that no one was
lurking about the place. Then taking
an enormous bunch OF keys from his
pocket. he led the way to the house.
A massive, gloomy structure, the care
he manifested in penetrating the doubly
locked portals, indicated a Jail or a
castle Of defense. 1t was richly fur
nished within, but the closed and barred
windows and chill pervading each
apartment made the antiquated man
sion seem somber. gloomy, and uninvit-
ing in the extreme.
You wait here"
Beatrice's guide pointed surlily to a
chair in a small waiting-rOom, and dis
appeared through a door at its other
end.
There was the low hum of conversa-
ton in the adjoining apartment. Her
eyes glowing like two sinister stars Of
light, Beatrice glided nOiselessly to the
threshold of the door: that had just
closed noiselessly on her companion.
Her ear bent, she strOve to translate
the gruff, explanatory accents of the
man, the sharp, querulous, excited
tones of his companion.
When the door again opened, how
ever, with the grace and agility OF a
panther she had regained the chair.
GO in, nodded the keeper, and the
door opened and closed after her, usher
ing her into a roomy apartment, and
leaving her face to face with her fate
Half reclining in an invalid chair was
a thin, white-haired man. She studied
his working face from beneath her veil;
and body, for he was almost painting
with excitement. his eyes were keenly
alive with unconcealed suspense.
My steward tells me you come here
with letter" spoke the master of the
in tones scarcely audible from
emotion.
Yes" murmured Beatrice.
Il have written but one letter-it was
to one have not seen for years."
Your daughter, Alice Edna RalstOn?
I am she. Father"
The plot. the fraud, the false assump-
ton Of the fair schemer was revealed at
last. She had determined to personate
her dead friend and schoolmate; and
the stolen letter had we'll equipped her
for the cruel imposture.
MY child"
She had sprung forward at that wild,
yearning cry. Not a heart-throb of
pity for the fond, deluded old man, soul
hungry for the love and sympathy of his
long absent child stirred her heart
only fierce, covetous joy and triumph.
His real daughter was dead, knowl-
edge of that fact. in his evident critical
condition of health. might kill him.
Surely, it was mercy to step into her
place, to solace the last days of a dying
man, TO benefit by fortune that, else,
would go to strangers or sordid COM
panions in his inexplicable exile.
She knew she was safe in telling the
story she had framed, and that circum-
stances would carry out her claims. She
showed the letter she had stolen from
Edna; she told how she and her guide
had been overtaken by the storm at the
broken bridge. He had persisted, she
had escaped, and she showed the news
paper containing the account of the
double tragedy, unconsciOusly portray
ing what had really transpired, little
dreaming that Edna Deane of the past,
the real Alice Edna Marston. or Ralston,
had not gone down in that weird swirl
Of waters.
But there was much to learn. Her
path was yet one of pitfalls. and she
must be secretive, ana yet draw out the
secrets OF the unsuspecting old man
who accepted her unreservedly as his
own child, blinded by clever falsehoods,
IAO ShoA6Oo Va CdlS, anu I'LL ClXCuU.
narration Of events he knew to
have happened as she related them.
When you enter this house, he said.
you close door on the past never to
be opened. Poor Rodney! he died in
bringing you to me. He was my best
friend. All these years, amid my i'm
my fugitive wanderings, he
has been true to me. He alone knew
where you had been placed. Now, un-
der a new name, you come to share my
loneliness. Fear not. it will only be for
4 few brief years. Then, mistress of
my fortune, you can go forth into the
world and enjoy the liberty denied me-"
Father, do not understand" muir.
INJURED the false daughter.
Do not try to. An innocent man. I
have yet been called upon to suffer the
penalty Of a crime unjustly laid to my
charge. Even now, am a fugitive
rom justice. Hunted down, a reward
upon my recapture. sought this Sc
'luded spot to die in peace. Here we
will live in quiet contentment, your love
md care the solace of my declining
years. Are you not content with that,
Alice. my child?'
Yes. murmured Beatrice, since you
will 1t So"
Why not? Life here, surrounded by