The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 18, 1900, Page 8

THE SUNDAY CALL too e had suggested P ¢ g= with women. Per he had h e had to run, on ? k. why. then she wished r he - no ‘more ser- 2 that she 1 did. The danger to you e =ibllity t ight repeat Ne e said, 1 14 forgive you Y & my heart.” he sald, turn- n tha feared him- leader St occasiona e sketches There was a recep- t of more than ordl- nd Lady Sal- e of their in. regarded as al.” The edi- hin, a Sal- list of the 45 they would two policemen ¢ st em f the gugsts and make P e mns of whlt it is T I paragraph.” ; " sald Zella with stom ulness. “Were all le. Go on with your ¢ a page of the ‘Arablan they shade the electric our new theater?” was lighted mostly by i salon wholly by can- bunches of them"— ght you were so up to date in an up-to-date thing I was 1 can assure you, Zella. contimre, Ned: T want to know it, now. I'm sure you didn't much wine and steal any of th hit some grandee in the fac one of those harmless police- to Ned's undisguised irritation commenced roc d Howed brilliant <t away his_brains'? Some men have none to stcal, Ned; you have heap ¥y, would you dare marry such a ared for him, I'd rather marry a t confessed his fault than a fel- tried to keep it a secret. u cared for him! Don't you care You sald you loved me.” A would_you at have, now that I know you get drunk? And you told me vou never t . am 1 first k whisky with Joe Wil- me over, I suppose.” h ight T have registered a; an oath sworn hall swear to love nd N th that it i1l )m‘ as it al grit even will be to Ned.” she said t that ment wife, and the hoisted a b te liquor aint test 1 out a re and ever belleve ¥ “And t man. both to hi ed Glover, I 1t have 1 1t would b ur prospective ertai ugh 1 a kindly old gentleman, and was gratetul for his friendship. If she nad suspected the depth of his love for her she would not have remained in his service. It is not given to man, not even to the histo- rian, the novelist, ‘the poet or the psychols ogist, to probe the secret that a woman s to hide in her héart. It is there- impossible to say to what extent Brunnen may have appreciated the state of Hiram Dexter's feeling. she may at least have been vaguely conscious of it s not unlikely, seeing that she had given Hiram ‘reason to under- 1 that ¢ declaration to her of a in tende: entiment on his part would end their association at' the, Pal- mer House. rthermore, the fact that would accept no favors from him, not present for extra work. was a kind ip must rely [ cter. d her a fa arned the well until Mr. Ed- his appearance, but friend Storey ventured to hint that, there might hbe a new candidate for the employment of his pretty typist. he began to feel miserably prehensive; and when Glover went to live in the 'same house with Ler, the demon of jealousy took hold of him and withered up his bet- ter feelings. pinched his heart, hollowed his ch and let loos:e in him passions that had_ hitherto lain dormant. Jeal- 1sy had found out the sav lurk- old_man's nature cunning. e this Engl in.1h savage hman, this news- paper feMow, Glover?' he 'said. as he passed the hottle to Abner Digges What a falling off was' there! Hiram Dexter, the milionaire, Hiram Dexter, the He and Dexter were seated in a private car of housui for Kan woul aifd Santa Fe lir to Red House coach, and finally on Valley and Blin we already know, promised the Missouri s City Forks, Ma; Pacific d connect with the Atchison, Topeka for the nearest point thence by rseback to Platts Railroad, where Digges and Drift, which, as to become one of the most prosperous of the-Platts Valley mining districts. had met Digges by appointment at St Loufs, giving out at the Palmer Hous Hiram Dexter that he had gone to Pittsburg. “Fahall give him a take in Platts Val- ley. How near is your Blind Man's Drift?” “Close, not a mile; Prudent’s Guich lies between. “Never heard of Prudent's Gulch. It Is not on my map,” said Dexter. ‘““There’s a-many Spots that ain't on your map,” Digves replied. “Solomon Danks, we calls-‘Ol it He's big. and we calls it S0 word for it. safe, Prudent,” he's stru. Prudent’s Gulch. cautious Jimmy Lincoln, as ain’ X the shot by Captain Dan, 7iv' him the name of Old_Prudent. Digges was becoming garrulous. in a @ull, soddened way, and it seemed to Hi- ram Dexter as If the in a dream ‘“Best you meet? Don't yow think so, e “‘Hell as like. He'll know I-won't a' for- got him “T wish I had uever seen the begga not _to remember Glover, sald Hiram. “What's he done to you?" “FEveryt interiopin g! KEverythi unerateful sne plied . cleaching his hands. y were both talking when The infernal " Hiram r Digges responded, with an eftort at a friendly smile, in which operation the curve of his mouth dragged downward instead of rising, and the effect was not a suecess. He made up for it, however, by waving his heavy hand from the plat- form of the car. Observing that Dexter did not turn his head, he muttered a coarse benediction on his new pard and took his seat once more by the side of the bottle of Old Rye that Dexter had intioduced for his especial comfort and satisfaction. Dexter hurried from the track to find his t n for Chicago; never looked back, felt fal , and crept into a corner of the t car that came in his way. “hicage?”’ he said, as the guard rtainly, Mr. Dexter, sir,”" he Thank you,” said Dexter, huddling himself together and closing his eves. ot well, I gu . aid tne guard to Money ain't evervthing. it n perpetual sunshine, can't two good square m know the relish of ve one ma another a casu and his swee O'Hagan, had a good s were it time the if he were pe T had been poisoned? Alas, it was the first tim d taken too muc ot Dru Fool! You a isgraced. We » use a_mere T Jh from a news a y. after keeping the s k unt st moment You s went on, “the by street! G sent to a recept! are selected gift of a bri abuse your trt you get drunk. You are locked up as a disorder] ou make no communication to the office. Fool! idiot! Go and drown yourself.” . I think 1 became maudiin and wept . PN ently he said, ‘Look here, Glover. The cashier has Instructions to pay you thres months' salary. Go and get drunk with it and jump into the river. or spend it in your p to some other country. where they are less exacting than I am compelled to be. Good-by! The bells of St. Clement Danes were ringing as I stumbled Tlect street. The ring- ers p or ring be- canse it and en- dowed it scoff_at me. ‘Fool " nkard!" they clashed together. At first 1 wa to_bow my head and whimper Then a svirit of de- of me ver drink not? A man how when ter m And what hrain reels with up, man. Drink to your reforma- 1 did. 1t steadied me. 1 went to rooms, 1 packed my things and when was ready I took my sorrows and my resolves tno Dick , the only friend 1 had in the wi And the next v York.” she asked. ‘exclalmed. *“Is it not ght you had killed somebody, or @ bill on 1ker without his or run off with one of those be- duchesses.” You treat it as a joke!” but 1 can't quite understand “Zella! “Oh, no; your editor getting mad with you when had arranged for such a ‘beat.’” Do _you think you dare marry a man that did such « thing, and the night after- ward tasted the damning cup again?” ““Put an encmy into bis mouth tq steal a, you know—you "Send That ——— Britisher Right'Along. es.” he blinds drawn?" Sone can see us" he sald. laughing. for the first time during the course of their interview. “I belleve your story. not a love affair. are real good, I'm glad it was 1 shouldn’t wonder you just a dalsy. You may seal that confession as they do it in the novels.” Ned dim she no, ent sald, strugglin ! But she found that er strength to make good door she turned to say, “I am my things on; you go_and O'Hagan to come for a drive e Lakes A What a shadow had fallen upon their happiness if they could have known how Hiram Dexier was spending most of that day with the ruflian who at the police off had said, “Your name's Edmund Glover. 1 may forget your name, but never your face; and. when I get out of this, you can order your coffint CHAPTER XIIL ) “AND JEALOUSY WINKED AT MUR~ ¥ DER." Hiram Dexter was a changed man.' Ev- erybody noticed it, and wondered what was the matter with him. From a genial, leasant, generous fellow he had suddenly ecome morose, pessimistic and inhospita- ble. . . . He had allowed himself to drift, serlously and hopelessly, in love with Zella Brunnen. So long he had no rival he was content to assu: fath- erly interest in her. knowing by Instinct and experiment that_she would tolerate no warmer passion, She regarded him as genernus. white man, upright id all nis ealinge, charitable, famous among finan- clers, ‘a citigen of whom New York was Rroud, and whom Chicago delighted to onor, cheek by jowl with a ruffian who had neither wit "nor true courage to recommend him; the *‘boss,” it is true, of a mining camp. where he had estab- lished & wild supremacy. by dint of kind of Dutch bravado, the possession of the largest interest in the staked-out claims, and his remarkable play with the knife, that had hecome the weapon of the duello at ‘Platts Valley and the Ridge. In the first days of Blind Man's .Drift, and indeed the same could be said of Platts Valley and the Ridge gencrally, there had beer so much shooting that a committec had settled that In the future, when quarrels had to be settled by duel, the knife should be the weapon of assault and defense. Digges was not the only man in camp professing to have sprung from the “Bowles” of the South, who had made the knife named after them a pop- ular weapon. In the sober periods of the camp, fencing with knives had become a pastime. There was target practice with revolvers now and then, and once in a vay u sudden and deadly drawing of the same, but the “Committee of Public Safe- ty,” as It was jestingly called, had re- soived that quarrels should not be so promptly settled; the more so that, on two occaslons, when men in drink had shot thejr man, they had the next day been afificted with remorse. It was a rough trange, unlovely camp that Digge: bossed,” - though it was situated among some of the most impressive and picturesque scenery of Colorado’s aurif- erous regions. *‘Send him to Blind Man's Drift, Digges, filllug his glass. sald “Needn't to 'a’ tie Drift; had him_under the cars ra ‘a’ m all the way to chucked ©You are a man of spirit,” sald Dexter. “It ain’t my sald Digg brious wa. hadit to you want me to do?’ “Be my friend, “Honor’ be sald Dexter. ! Does me proud! Lend me ten , thousand dollars to drive a new shaft be- underhand,"” 11 in a soddened and lugu- T takes my man square and fair, and we has it out manful. \What do tween Old Prudent’s and the Drift?” ““Certainly ¥ pleasure. ‘‘Noble sentiment,” will,” sal, d Hiram, th What is the use in baving money if you don’t do good with {t?" ald Digges. “You're the right sort o' pard,’ sentiment of a mis- slonary. backed with the wealth of a mili- And he emptied another glass of raw rye. By this time the cars began to fill up. The track was busy with passengers and jonafre. baggage. I ust be Digges.” said Here we go!” saying good-by, -uram. who had not quite Mr. filished being addressed as ‘‘pard” by his disreputable a quaintance; but when a man uses dirty tools he must not complain of dirty hands. enough. Dexter knew this well He did not llike Digzes’ familiar- tolerate it. thou "hen nd in~ his legs beneath the tem; it's agreed about dollars?" said the Digg: ary .ity, however, any the more for having to twenty stretch- table of the car and looking at Dexter with a truculent grin. “You said ten.” “What's pocketbook. the use of “‘Here are ten?"" ten on grunted “ome to think, {t'll take no less " said Dexter, taking out his account, you can send me your acknowledgment when’ you or Carson, we quite understand cach other.” Dexter’s hands the ‘bills out of his ample trembl ed as he et to Denver or Kansas City, r the Drift. an» time. In fact, fished pocketbook. Digges roused himself, pul'ed in his lags, rose to his feet with a grunt of satisfac- tion; leaned against the cnshioned s the car and took the notes hand, then, at of vith his heavy looking at them for a mo. ment, doubled them up, and thrust them into his capaciou: breeches pocket. “‘Pard,” he said, with a thick utterance, “you are just as white a man as they make 'em.” Send that — Britisher right along.” “I will!” said Dexter, vainly endeavor- ing to repress a shiver that shook him from head Digges to foot. “Good-bye, Mr. CTHAPTER XIV. THE CLOSE OF A HAPPY DAY. Talk to me av a folne handsome man loike that fallin' in love wid a face avi nose on it loike the handle av a watering-pot, it's lolke axin’ ye to take paraffin w yer clarrit! Sir Arno de Ber- gerac, did they call him? And no wonder; nd Ve say there's nawthin’ in_a name? e might have looked for such a nose uite natural wid such a christenin!" hen, if I had come here with Cyrano's nose, Mrs. O'Hagan? “I'd jest have had Mickey, at the stables hard By, set his dog at ye. . . . Now, for rale relaxation, and a tear in the right place, and a laugh when ye want it, give thim plays av Dion Boucicault, me own counthryman, as know'd how to tickle ver best dispositions: and it's Myles na Coppaleen and Danny Mann and the swate Colleen, that’s the mixture for a play. But the man's dead. God rest his bones. that made 'em. for which matter so's the other wan, that I loved to sit under, and bemoan me sins and revel in the punishments av that ould Scotch blackgyuard. Macbeth, and his painted-up wife. But for ull that, me darlints, ye've given the ould woman a rale good toime, and 1 thank ye. wid all my heart, and now T'll go to bed, and I'ave ve to say ‘good-night' to wan another, considerin: as ve'll soon be parted for awhile: by whicl token, Misther Ned, ve nade have no fear for the safe-kapin' av yer jewel So long as Bridget O'Hagan lives, “she'li be her shield and butler, that she will; and. by the saints, I mane to lve to be a hundred and tin, for Zella’s sake, Me grandmother was ninety-nine when she smoked her last poipe on this airth: the =ain bless her, and give her the sSwatest baccy the gardens av Paradisc can per- vide. “GGod bless you, Bridget, {! Zefla, embracing her. 59 “And may yo live as long as tvver ye've a moin o!™ sa Ned. AT ing her on “Ah. ye Saxon vill'in! Ye know how to put the comither on an ould woman And then Zella and Ned sat side by side on the fluffy old sofa in Bridget's parlor and talked of the future. Young, engagedq people always do. Tor them the past ig as dead as vesterday's newspaper, when considerations of the nest are afoot never thought I should have patience to talk of such things, Ned. We are poor creatures, we women. after all am strong-minded compared to thost—almost mawul!no{. quite masculine, some sa G yet I seem as clay in your ha Given myselt Wp. I supposs. mo i struggling. Fate 13 fate and y fate, it E s, Is m: age. cou 2 Vi - leved it. % e o “Do you reeret it, Zella?" “No; though 1 feel it a kind of shame, indelicate, so to speak, to say so. But T !‘r;}va_yau. Ned; and there’s no more ta be dear,” “Pantc sion,” he re and kissi “Do you r you were a “I remer Strong. of men, b lessness; enemy than t of wh nnder: haps, shrewdest his professio ticated often confess quite at hom Her head was resting up her hand fn his were timidly with “Whist. whist O'Hagan, as “It's tolme ye was oe Is pacin’ abou above ve It's 'f ver billin® and koind av mv curmudgeon av a night ve Insinuatin’ Saxon have her praper r “The dear old low his ath. CHAPTER XV, “FOR HE WAS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL.” Hiram Dexter's dreaming seem all night. It contifiue next did he sleep much on the nig The truth i{s a demon no oth. n_from a to a cynic with homicidal Storey said Dexter's mplai was liver. You ha nly to look at his eyes skin had become dr: clothes nger fitted him was conversational with a longer looked him in the face. His which was wont to be smooth and u be nicely brushed, had become dry streperous. The demon drove hi hurried feot . He seemed to K ing on all sides of the street at o s would not consult a doctor; but S s favorite physician said he d ad a n- gested mind, as well as a con, Whenever anyone hinted t look well, he smiled in way and a ‘“ehest be ringing it all the time. T persons with whom he was patient to whose prescript} of change and he listened with attention, were his secretary and the young fellow to w it was said, she was engaged to be ried. Dexter was always at leis celve Mr. Edmund Glover. T nothing he would not do for him. saild, indeed, that he had made h heir; and the comment of those who knew the parties well was that the young E lishman would not have long to wailt f his enormous inheritance. But this was the cunning of the demon that had slipped into the body and soul of the millionaire, Hiram Dexter. Surely there must be such phenomena as that so much insisted upon In the Seript: here was a ma t through life ous position—a man of sentime blot upon his of many; a called thi clers, hand; a pht schools and gar, a trif haps. but a m est_emotic upon v sented to become s re- turn from ad ex- tended a ¢ the arran 1 3 Ned' ary, and allowe X 1 regard to an might consider necessar ing of the new region in the Mail. At the same tim it more to his interest to take ho mining business and make the newspap a secondary consideration he had Stor ermission to do what he thought best imself. (Continued next vaak)