Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-02-02
CHAPTER III.
THE BANKERS DAUGHTER


A cry rang through the private office
of MerwYn, banker, as the shock Of the
paving stone Jared the great front doors
"a cry of fear and alarm.
1t proceeded from the old graY-headed
clerk, John Wharton. Twisting. his thin
hands nervously, his face ashen, he
sprang from his seat.
Its comet" he breathed, with gasp
of terror Those men,
''Sit down.
With q scow, his companion drove
him back chattering to the chair Then,
unmoved, still coolly putting at his cigar,
Arnold Dacre ran over the compartments
of the portfolio spread out on the table
before him.
1.-THE ignorant cattle!'' he Kissed con-
temptuOuSly." Let them rave q bit, and
cool their hot blood, nothing short Of a
battering ram or q fifty FOUNDER would
What! shaking yet? See here, Wharton!'
he ground ouU tiercely, 'we're to near
the end to lose grit now"
1.-The end!' painted the quivering
wretch before him'-oh! Mr. Dacre, why
was l led into this--why didn't l get out
when l could? When I think Of the
ruin WV lC WlCuhAASS OLO hCOA " ~ Ouns
the crime"
.'Silence!" ordered the cashier angrily.
''You helped me, because / can clamp
iron manacles on you If you dlsobey me.
No ones going to harm you. It's Mer-
wyn they hold responsible"
1.-The kindest master. the best man
ever livcd!" groaned Wharton. ''Mr.
Dacre, when he comes"
"When he comes? aye, indeed :"
laughed the other. Each man to his
own responsibilities. The BOOKS are doc
tored, the securities hocused, a net
spread he can't very we'll evade. I'm
sorry I lost the bulk of what we might
have had in reckless speculation, but
here's cool ten thousand in easy cash.
which amt bad"
PAY it out as tar as it goes - don't
have blood on your hands, Mr.. Dacre,
dont-don't!" chartered the clerk.
You miserable craven!' cried Dacre,
with blazing eyes, ''do you think I'll
sacrifice all, when the end is so near-do
you think | covet cell in the peniten-
tlary, to waver now? Silence! What's
that?"
Arnold Dacre snapped the portfolio
shut and arose quickly, as timid,
nervous knock sounded at the rear door.
He went to it and opened it. A woman,
aged, white-faced, trembling violently,
tottered over its threshold.
"Mr. Dacre!-this trou BILE"
1t was Mrs. Grey, the bankers house
keeper. She had come through the
covered passage way. Her haunted eyes
told that the tumult Of the raving, rag
ing multitude without had reached the
living rooms Of the banker
''The trouble is serious, very serious"
spoke Dacre gravely. -"You had better
not remain in the house."
"Miss Flora sent me. She told me to
learn what it means. Has Mr.. Merwyn
returned?"
"Returned" Interrupted Dacre quick
ly. No, thank heaven! With that UNI
ruly mob thirsting tor his blood, it would
be scarcely safe The bank is broken,
Mrs. Grey. Tell Miss Merwyn she had
better prepare to leave here. l will see
her to place of safety. Should they
attack the house"
But, with cry of terror, as some new
missile shattered one of the costly plate
glass windows in tho counting-room,
Mrs. Grey had fled precipitately.
Gasping. trembling. she ran down the
covered passage way. Her face the
color OF ashes, she burst into the bankers
library.
A young girl sprang up as she entered.
1t was Flora Merwyn. Into that beautf-
tul face had already come latent
anxiety. 1t was augmented to vivid con-
Germ, as the old housekeeper painted out
her story.
A shudder crossed the fair form at the
recital. Her lips set tightly, the white
brow snowy as alabaster was drawn In
an expression Of mingled pain and reso-
luton.