Kitabı oku: «The Cleverdale Mystery: or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life», sayfa 13
CHAPTER XXVIII.
AMONG THE HILLS OF COLORADO
Four long weary months passed, and George Alden, alias George Howard, sat in his room at the boarding-house in Chicago. His face was pale, and lines of sorrow were plainly visible about his eyes. Gazing intently at a photograph, his only companion in many a sad hour, he murmured:
"Lost! lost to me, all that I loved and adored! Four months ago I fled like a thief from my native village; oh, fatal mistake, fatal mistake! By that act acknowledging myself guilty of a crime I never committed, I must now prepare to go forth into the world and battle for a new existence."
Raising the picture to his lips, he kissed it again and again.
"Oh, that cruel letter! But 'grief never kills;' the fact that I am spared proves the truthfulness of the old saying. My wife believes me a villain, and all I might say or do would never convince her to the contrary. And my poor sister has deserted me; she too must believe me guilty of crime."
He was much agitated, and rising from his chair paced the room for a few moments, when forcing a change of manner he said:
"No more of this – I must smother these remembrances of mine; henceforth I must conquer the feeling that overwhelms me. Farewell all past loves! Farewell all past joys and sorrows! To-morrow I go forth into the world, and as Mrs. Nash's door closes behind me the curtain disclosing the past will drop forever. It must be so, or I cannot expect to keep up with the army I am soon to join."
The next morning, rising early, he packed his satchel, and descended to the breakfast-room, where he ate more than usual. Upon leaving the table he entered the sitting-room, where he glanced over the newspaper until Mrs. Nash joined him.
"Mrs. Nash, I am going away to-day."
"Going away? You must not go yet, for you are hardly strong enough."
"Do not think me ungrateful to such a kind mother as you have been to me, but I must seek a place where I can earn money. I have been dreading departure from this home – the only one I possess in the world; but I have fully realized the need of active employment for my mind. I must forget myself – forget I ever lived until I came to you. Do not ask me why. Some time I promise to tell you all; yes, open wide the book, that you may read every line upon the pages that to me are so sad and gloomy."
The good woman noted his sorrow, and saw the necessity of cheering words.
"Never mind all that," she said; "this world is full of sunshine, and if clouds hide the light for a while, remember that the sun shines just the same. I shall miss you, but wherever you go I shall always think of you, and hope to hear of your prosperity."
"Dear, kind mother – you are all I have now – the only link binding my heart to the past is your love and kindness. God bless you! God bless you!"
His voice trembled with emotion, and Mrs. Nash, wiping away a tear, forced a smile, and replied:
"If I am your mother, you are my son, and as you are to leave me, I insist upon a promise."
"Name it, my good mother, and if it is among the possibilities I will readily comply."
"It is this: you must try to forget all sorrow of the past and live for the future. You must write me at least once a month, telling about yourself. You must, above all things, be cheerful and not give way to despondency."
Promising to obey, and regretfully bidding the good woman farewell, Alden turned his face westward from Chicago, to seek a fortune and begin a new life for himself in the wilds of Colorado. A week later, he stood alone in the streets of a small settlement in the silver hills, and, after walking about for a while, entered a hotel, and bargained for a week's board. On entering the small room assigned him he was forced to smile at the primitive style of the apartment and its furniture. The bed was simply a "tick" filled with dried grass, over which was spread two coarse woollen blankets. The bedstead was without posts, while an old rickety chair and a barrel used as a table completed the furniture of the apartment.
The following day he met two young men who, like himself, were strangers in the locality and seeking a fortune. Sympathy drawing the three together, they mutually formed plans for the future.
The next morning the three, leaving the inn on a prospecting tour, first visited the mines in the vicinity. Every detail was carefully noted, and they asked so many questions of those in charge, that, as they left the place, a foreman remarked:
"There are three keen-eyed chaps, and I'll bet a silver brick they'll strike a paying lead before they are much older."
Four days later they staked a claim, pulled off their coats and began active operations; a few old heads smiling at the three "tender-feet" turning miners.
Alden rapidly gained strength, and the bracing air and steady exercise gradually restored him to health. The paleness so long overspreading his countenance gave place to a healthy glow, and the clouds that darkened his mind were only visible at periods when he allowed old thoughts to disturb him.
His natural strong will-power reasserted itself as his physical vigor returned. His principal thought now was to repay the sum which Senator Hamblin advanced him when he fled, like a thief, from home and friends. The amount he was accused of stealing he knew was not incumbent on him to pay, for he now fully believed Senator Hamblin had really manufactured the charge to get him out of the way, that he might marry his daughter to Walter Mannis.
Belle, he knew, was his lawful wedded wife, and could not, if she wished, marry Mannis; yet he longed at some future day to return to Cleverdale and confront his false accusers, even though his wife had turned against him. This thought often entered his mind, but he dismissed it with the remark:
"No, I shall never go back to be spurned by the only woman I ever loved."
His companions often inquired concerning his past life, and as he evaded direct answers, they concluded his presence in Colorado was the result of a love affair. Soon learning to look upon him as the very soul of honor, in all their movements he became an adviser with rare judgment and foresight.
Operations were partially suspended by the three miners during the winter, for the weather prevented much work. Being prudent during the winter months, they made but little inroad upon their reserve fund, and when spring opened were ready to renew operations. All about them were evidences of rich mineral wealth, and before summer came they had gone to a considerable depth into the earth. Day by day they toiled on, and old miners, straying through the gulch and watching them, changed doubt of the "tender-feet" to admiration at their plucky spirit. All through the region in that mountain-pass spread the fame of the new company, and when indications of paying ore began to develop itself everybody said:
"I told you so! those chaps will certainly succeed."
George Howard showed plainly that he was worthy of success. Nearly a year had passed since his departure from Cleverdale, and during that time, with the exception of the forged letter, he had received no tidings from his native place. Could he have seen that silent mound in the Cleverdale Cemetery surmounted by a plain marble slab bearing the name of George Alden, it is possible that he might have abated his energies, but his only ambition now being to succeed in his new life, right royally did he concentrate all his efforts to accomplish his desire.
He regularly wrote to his good friend Mrs. Nash, and the letters received in return overflowed with sympathy and words of encouragement. Greatly prizing her letters, he read and re-read them until every word was indelibly engraved upon his mind. This was very unromantic, but it was also very much to his credit.
One day, "Three Boys Gulch," as it was called, was the scene of excitement, for the efforts of the partners were crowned with success by the discovery of a rich vein of silver. The news travelled on swift wings, and spectators looking into the shaft shook their heads at the thought of what they had missed.
The young men became lions at once, for were they not owners of a bonanza? and George Howard wrote a short letter to his friend Mrs. Nash as follows:
"Three Boys Gulch.
"My DEAR Friend AND Mother:
"I am a rich man, for we have struck a bonanza. Business may call me to Chicago soon, when I shall see you, and then, my good mother, I will tell you the secret of my life. Until then, farewell.
"Ever your friend,"George Howard."
Sealing the letter, he said:
"And now for a vindication of myself; even if I were guilty, everybody will listen to me when I own a third of a rich silver mine."
CHAPTER XXIX.
POOR MARY HARRIS
Go where you will, seek whom you may, converse with all whom you meet, and you will fail to find a person of either sex, arrived at years of discretion, whose heart does not conceal a secret. Some have secrets of love, some secrets of business, while other heart-closets may conceal the skeleton of a secret crime. Several of our characters have faithfully retained secrets which, if known, would have long ere this abruptly terminated our story.
Senator Hamblin suffered intensely by his terrible secret. Fully conscious that George Alden had committed no crime, to the oft-repeated inquiries of his daughter concerning the defalcation he evaded direct answers by saying he believed him innocent, although the sum of five thousand dollars had mysteriously disappeared. His agency in the supposed death of George Alden weighed heavily upon him, while the impending crash in his business affairs was a secret that gave him no peace of mind.
His daughter possessed two secrets; one of them, her marriage with George Alden, was faithfully kept from all except those of her own immediate family. While it was publicly known that she mourned his death, refusing comfort, none but those mentioned were aware of the relation she sustained toward the late cashier. Another secret which she guarded safely was her knowledge of the accusation which she supposed caused her husband's death.
Fannie Alden was unconscious of the charges made against her brother's integrity. Had she known the cause of George's disappearance, her sensitive nature would have received a wound from which she never could have recovered. Therefore, Belle felt justified in keeping this secret locked in her breast, although she believed the charges false in every particular.
Two other persons possessed a secret, over which they cracked many jokes. Mannis and Sargent often met and talked over the success of their scheme. The latter, now cashier of the bank, fully felt his importance. Sargent's thoughts sometimes reverted to the night when, playing the rôle of body-snatcher, he assisted to disguise a dead body to account for the absence of the living; and he never felt proud of that night's work; but when a twinge of conscience disturbed him, he quieted his mind with the oft-repeated remark:
"Well, a man must look out for his own interests."
Walter Mannis felt little remorse at the part he performed in the game, for his was a callous conscience, and such little episodes never disturbed the serenity of his mind. The Congressional nomination was sought and won by him, thanks to money, and his election was easily accomplished. Considerable hostility to his nomination was evinced at first, but when the convention closed its deliberations, there was a general acquiescence in the result. The candidacy of Daley was too fresh in the minds of recalcitrant politicians to encourage a repetition of the "bolting" game. Poor Daley, still an inmate of the asylum, and with small hope of recovery, left a warning behind.
Senator Hamblin, of late much with Mannis, fell under the influence of his companion, whose wily tongue and smooth manner again completely won the Senator's confidence and esteem. The father still entertained hope that his daughter, recovering from grief occasioned by the death of George Alden, would ultimately become the wife of his friend.
Mannis soliloquized one day in his room at the Manor, surrounded by books, letters, and scraps of paper covered with figures:
"My case is desperate," he said, "and something must be done at once, or I shall be caught napping. The note on which I took the liberty of endorsing Hamblin's name falls due next Wednesday. By Jove! it must be got out of the way, dead sure, or there will be trouble. It is for ten thousand dollars, and if not taken care of at maturity, those city bankers will make me trouble."
Lighting a cigar and stretching himself in an easy-chair, he watched the smoke for a moment or two as it curled above his head, and then continued: "Mannis, you are a cool fellow, and Hamblin falls an easy prey into your clutches. I feel sorry for him; I wouldn't have his tender conscience for a fortune. He thinks he murdered Alden – ha! ha! ha! – a confounded good joke. But supposing the ex-cashier should walk in some day, with papers and documents, to say nothing of his face, to prove he is not dead? Wh-e-e-w-w! wouldn't there be a nice old time in Cleverdale? I only hope he will wait until I secure the girl, whom I have sworn to marry. Once married to Belle Hamblin, and I am saved; the old man's fortune can help me out of my trouble, and it must. I have lately hinted to him again my desire to marry his daughter, and he takes kindly to the notion. They do say she is inconsolable at Alden's supposed death; but she will get over that; 'grief cannot kill' – " and singing the refrain from a popular air, he seemed very happy, for he resumed:
"See here, old fellow, you are a Congressman, but it will be some time before you go to Washington, and if you can get a hold there, perhaps you too can make a strike. All those fellows get rich, and Walter Mannis will look out for number one. Oh, if I can only capture Belle Hamblin, and take her to Washington as my wife, what a brilliant couple we will make, for I flatter myself I am not bad-looking. Ah, Mannis, you are an egotistical fellow. Egad! But how can you help it? I vow I will go to Cleverdale to-morrow, see Hamblin, and again urge my suit. What would the old man think if he knew of that note his name is on! But, pshaw, he will never know of it. I shall get it out of the way somehow, and at once."
He was interrupted by a servant entering and handing him a note, which he hastily tore open. As he read it a shade of anger crossed his countenance.
"Confound that girl!" he said. "She thinks I will marry her, does she? She doesn't know me. I must get rid of her some way; but how? That's the question. Let me think."
Dropping into a chair and passing his hand across his brow, he was engaged in deep thought for almost ten minutes. Breaking the silence, he said:
"Well, I must get her away from here, to begin with. This affair troubles me more than any woman scrape I was ever engaged in. If her father knew about it there would have to be a new election for a Congressman to fill my place. It is a bad go, for I certainly have deceived the girl, and old Harris is a savage fellow, who wouldn't hesitate to pop the man who betrayed his daughter."
Mannis, for once, was really troubled. He cared little for the misery he might bring upon others, but he fully realized that his life would be endangered, did his treatment of Mary Harris reach the ears of her father. The poor girl had been deceived by a promise of marriage, and the note Mannis received was an appeal begging him to fulfil his word. The innocent creature was ignorant of the duplicity of the man she had trusted, for although many times before he had crushed young lives as if they were the merest baubles, he had managed to prevent any charges appearing against him.
For many minutes his nervous agitation was very great. He tried to drive fear from his mind by reading, but could arouse no interest in his favorite books, for the fear of Mary Harris haunted him, and he trembled for his own personal safety.
"This will never do," he suddenly said, "I will go to Cleverdale and visit the Senator, and then make a pilgrimage to the great Babylon, New York, where something must turn up to help me out of my troubles."
The same evening found him at Cleverdale, and at a late hour Sargent was with him at the hotel. The precious couple engaged in a game of cards, surrounding themselves with clouds of cigar smoke, and drank champagne as they talked of Alden, and congratulated themselves their plans had worked so well. And yet each in his heart wondered what had become of the victim.
"How do you like your place, Sargent?" asked Mannis.
"It is a very good situation, but a man can hardly get rich on the salary. I'll tell you what it is, Mannis, I have had a notion for some time that the silver hills of Colorado are the place for me. Those chaps out there are fast getting rich, while we salaried men, working infernally hard, can lay up nothing. To-day I read an account of three young fellows who staked a claim last fall and now they are millionaires. The excitement is intense, and the lucky chaps have been offered millions for the claim."
"Who are they, Sargent? Where are they from?" asked Mannis.
"Hanged if I know; but I wish I was one of them. You fellows with fortunes don't know the hardships we paupers have to undergo; and the more I think of the matter, the more I believe in the advice, 'Go West, young man.'"
The two men drank so heavily that before midnight several empty bottles stood on the side-table, and both were in a very convivial condition, when Sargent, bidding Mannis good-night, wended his footsteps homeward in rather uncertain fashion.
The next forenoon Mannis arose with a headache, but did not fail to call upon Senator Hamblin, whom he found busy, as usual, but glad to meet the Congressman-elect. After a few moments' conversation, Mannis said:
"I am going to New York, Senator, for a few days' recreation. I have had the blues lately, and have prescribed for myself a week's sojourn in the gay city. The metropolis is the celestial city of the world, and when the pilgrim groans under a burden of blue devils a plunge into the pool washes away the load, and man comes forth brighter, better, and happier. The forced seclusion of the country clogs the brain, deadens the intellect, and makes man's heart heavy as lead."
"You have the blues, Mannis! Why, I supposed you never felt a care except when a candidate for the people's suffrages."
"But there is greater cause, my friend," and Mannis's voice assumed a tone of sadness. "When a man sees the dearest object of his life before him, yet, like Tantalus, putting forth his hand to grasp it, it recedes, he is unhappy."
"I cannot understand you, Mannis," said the Senator. "You speak in parables; be more explicit."
"Were I married and quietly settled in life, I should be happy; but the only woman I ever loved I fear will never be mine. Your daughter, my friend, could make me supremely content."
Senator Hamblin looked into the face of his companion and replied:
"It would gratify me much if your hopes could be realized. Cheer up and do not look so despondent. My daughter has been terribly grieved by the tragic death of her lover, but time will heal her wound. Be patient awhile longer."
"Ah, my friend, you can easily say that, but could I have the hope that at some future time she would be mine, I should indeed be happy. Urge her to receive my attentions. Tell her of my affectionate regard for her, and if she gives encouragement let me know. Here is a card containing my New York address. One word from you, and I will be here as soon as steam can convey me."
He arose to depart, and Senator Hamblin, warmly grasping his hand, said:
"Good-by, Mannis! Keep up a good heart and all may yet be well."
The door closing behind him, Mannis passed into the street, and said to himself:
"Pretty well played, Mannis, my dear boy. If the old man would only give me his ducats his pretty daughter might cry her eyes out if she wished."
An hour later he was on the train bound for New York.
