Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 March 1887 — A KNAVE UNMASKED. [ARTICLE]

A KNAVE UNMASKED.

BY FRANK SHERIDAN.

"Mr. Arden is my business associate, my relative and my friend.” “Nevertheless he is a scoundrel.” “Your insult is gross and unwarranted, Robert Ellis. You must apologize, or never darken my doors again.” “Very well, Mr. Bordell, I choose the latter alternative.” It was an incident in which angry, excited tones had indicated that serious elements of interest, emotion, and pride were at stake. Its denouement meant banishment and unhappiness for Robert Ellis, yet as he walked down the marble steps of the stately mansion of Mr. Bordell, the wealthy banker of Elmville, a sentiment of just conviction and resolute determination showed on his young, handsome face. The circumstances of the affair may be very briefly recited. John Bordell was an old-time resident of Elmville, and was the principal owner in the bank at that place. For many years he had been a widower, but his daughter Bertha and his son Arnold had cheered his loneliness, and when the latter entered the bank, a year previous, the banker believed his ability would soon entitle him to a prominent place in its operations. One day, however, a terrible blow fell upon the devoted father. Arnold Bordell had disappeared, and with him ten thousand dollars of the bank’s money. An examination of his accounts showed frequent alterations and errors; a note was left on his desk in which he stated that he had lost heavily at gambling, and had embezzled a large amount. He had, therefore, determined to fly, and announced that he would never return to disgrace the family name. For weeks the proud banker was crushed by the unexpected blow. His daughter shared his grief, assuaged only by the confident assertions of Arnold’s dearest friend, young Robert Ellis, to the effect that he did not believe in Arnold’s guilt, and that the latter was the victim of some terrible plot. “Men and money do not disappear except by design,” said Mr. Bordell, bitterly. “No, he is guilty. I trusted him, and he has deceived me. Let his name never be spoken in this house again. ” Then the affair became a darkened memory, and Elmer Arden, a distant relative of the banker, who had filled a subordinate position for years in the bank, was advanced to the lucrative and honorable position which Arnold had held. It was this man, with eyes like a snake and the face of an arrant hyporrate, whom young Ellis watched, as a cat does a mouse, for many a day after the mysterious disappearance of Arnold Bordell.

Why he suspected him he cou'd not tell; he had done so since the day Arnold went away, and a conversation between Arden and a stranger which he had overheard had decided him on action. Robert Ellis was connected with a lawyer in the town with a large practice. He was an impulsive sort of fellow, and the very day upon which our story opens had met Arden coming from the banker’s mansion. He knew that Arden had always betrayed a longing for the company of beautiful Bertha Bordell, and the fact that he was fast winning the banker's confidence, and a firm belief that he was the cause of Arnold Bordell’s disappearance, led him to act rashly. In fact, from a casual greeting their meeting led to an open quarel, in which Ellis openly denounced him as a hypocrite and a scoundrel, and charged him and some accomplice in plotting to ruin Arnold Bordell. “You shall suffer for this!” choked out Arden, pale with rage, as they parted. "Beware how you cross my path, or there will be another mysterious disappearance!” The words betrayed ihe real villainous depths of Arden’s nature. Ellis said not another word, but a moment later entered the Bordell mansion, and proceeded to the library to seek the banker. It was there that the conversation described above occurred. It formed the climax to a long recital on the part of Robert Ellis. He began by stating 'that he had never believed Arnold Bordell to be an embezzler, that he considered hi 3 disappearance and the Retraction of the bank’s funds to be the result of a deep plot of designing enemies. “I forbid you to speak of my son,” the banker had interrupted Ellis by saying sternly; “he is dead to me, and the evidences of his guilt were incontrovertible.” And then, in impassioned tones, Ellis bad told him how he believed the new bank cashier, Arden, to be a villain, and he recounted the quarrel that had occurred a few moments previous. Mr. Bordell became very indignant at the narration, and then, after demanding an apology, which the high-spirited Ellis had refused, had ordered him never to darken the doors of the mansion again. With a rapid step, angered at the persistent and blind preference of the banker for Ms favorite, the young man hastened down the graveled walk to the road. “Robert!” He paused as a soft, silvery voice spoke Ms name. Turning, he haw pretty, winsome Bertha

Bordell standing at a table in the rustic veranda room in the garden, where, in her haste to address him, she had npset a pile of photographs. Her deep, soulful eyes scanned his face searchingly as he approached her. “Robert,” she said, seriously, “you are excited. Yon were hastening away without seeing me. What has happened?” “The worst—the very worst,” replied young Ellis, bitterly. “ You have seen my father?” “Yes.” “And have broached the subject of Arnold again?” “I have.” “And you hsve quarreled?” “Seriously. Yes, Bertha, your father has ordered me from the house.” The fair girl’s eyes fell and became tearful. Her heart was divided between love for her devoted father and admiration for the brave champion of her missing brother Arnold. She listened snspensefully as Ellis told of his interview with her father and of his quarrel with Arden. “The scoundrel!” he ejaculated angrily, referring to the latter. “I know he is a villain; I know he hopes to win your love away from me, to secure your father’s fortune. I know he has plotted against Arnold; I know where Arnold is.” “Oh, Robert!” “Yes, I overheard Arden conversing with a stranger and he said that if Arnold Bordell was at Miners’ Valley he must be prevented from returning to Elmville. Heave here to-morrow. I will find your brother; I will leam the true mystery of his disappearance. Let me see you once more at the old trysting-place by the brook, this evening, and then I leave to right what I believe to be a great wrong.” They conversed for a long time, and met as agreed that evening. But they did not linger at the brook. In earnest tones Ellis pleaded with her to agree to some plan to outwit any plot Arden might form to induce her father to smile on his suit during his absence.

A carriage was ready, there was a rapid drive several miles into dhe country, a visit to a retired clergyman’s house, and as speedy a return. When they parted, two hours later, there was a happy, though anxious, look ou Bertha’s face, and Ellis left the town by the main highway, on horseback, murmuring: “At least, Arden shall never steal my love from me. And now to locate Arnold Bordell at Miners’ Valley.” That was the place he had heard Arden and his unknown companion allude to. It was a place far beyond the hills, isolated, and infested with dangerous frontier characters. Ho had often heard of it, and knew that it would be a weary and perilous journey to reach it. Why had Arnold gone there? What was he doing among the rough prospectors of that region? This was a mystery Ellis was soon to leam. For the present he contented himself by progressing on his way, and it was three weeks later when, travel-worn and weary, he descended into a valley, surrounded by the wildest scenes, and dotted here and there with numerous mining camps. At one of these he halted finally. He had been attracted to it by the sight of a man whose face was slightly familiar to him. Beyond doubt he was the same personage whom he had seen speaking to Arden at Elmville. If the stranger had over seen him before, be did not betray the fact, but he seemed a little surprised when Ellis addressed him and said: “1 believe I saw you at Elmville about a month ago?” The stranger hesitated, surveyed Ellis searchingly, and then replied: “Possibly; I was there to sell some gold dust a short time since. What are you doing here? Do you live in Elmville?”

So satisfied was El}is that there now existed some plot between Arden and this man that he determined to act prudently. He made an evasive reply, gave a false name, and intimated that he had been obliged by circumstances to leave Elmville. The stranger, who, Ellis later learned, was named Crombie, seemed to infer that the young man was a fugitive from justice, and at once became quite confidential. He told marvelous stories of wonderful gold discoveries in the district, and by losing some money at cards and treating the crowd liberally, Ellis was accepted as a denizen of the oamp. To the man Crombie he made no further allusion to Elmville, or to Arden, or to the object of his quest, Arnold Bordell. But he watched his man closely, and one night saw hifli visit a lonely hut built near a cave in the mountain, and said by the miners to be the retreat of some noted outlaws of the vicinity. Tne most cautious but persistent inquiry failed to reveal any trace of Arnold, and yet Ellis was satisfied that he was somewhere in the valley, possibly a prisoner in the hands of his enemies. This he was destined soon to leam. One afternoon Crombie came to him with a curious smile on his face. He tendered him a folded but unsealed letter. This Ellis, with a flush of annoyance and chagrin, recognized as a letter he had written to Bertha Bordell the day previous. He had dropped it somehow, and Crombie had found it. Ellis had intended to send it to Elmville by the first party leaving Miners’ Valley. He was a little concerned, as he feared that Crombie might have received some hint of his antagonism to his friend Arden. But he remembered mat ne nad not alluded to him, his letter being mainly a description of his vain wanderings in search of the missing Arnold Bordell. “I imagine it’s a letter to your sweetheart,” remarked Crombie, with a cunning laugh. “Yes; did you read it?” “No; but in glancing at it to find out whose it was, I saw that it was written to a girl. By the way, I Baw another thing that interested me.” “Indeed, what was that?" “You wrote about a man named Arnold Bordell.” Ellis started. He had never spoken the name to Crombie, and had always been guarded in his inquiries concerning the banker’s missing son, even to others, alluding to him only by description. Crombie’s face 6eemed to conceal no hidden motives. Ellis answered boldly: “Yes, I did.” “Are you looking for him?” “Well, yes; I know his sister, and she is very anxious to hear from him. Why, do you know him?” 1

“No.” Ellis looked disappointed. Bat you have heard of him?” Exactly, by name many times. See here, can I trust yon?" “About what?” “With a secret. Yon know the old cabin near the hills?" Ellis nodded affirmatively. “Well, there are some friends of mine there who are in retirement.” “How so?” “They are wanted by the sheriff.” “I understand.” “Therefore, they do not care for outside acquaintances, so, if I take you there ” “Why should you take me there?” asked Ellis, suspiciously. “ Because the man who knows your friend Bordell is there." “Oh. I see.” “We’ll go there.” “When?” “To-night. You can leam about Bordell, but you mustn’t tell about the people you meet.” “I promise.” “Very well; meet me at dusk, then, and we’ll go.” Ellis was so anxious about finding a trace of Arnold Bordell that he did not suspect the fact that Crombie was laying a cunning plot to entrap him. That evening he met him. Together they proceeded to the lonely cabin referred to.

There was no one in the dimly lighted apartment into which Crombie ushered him. The latter pointed to a chair near a table in the center of the room. “Sit down,” he said, “I will go and find my man.” Ellis did so, and Crombie left the room. Several minutes passed by. Ellis was becoming impatient, when a startling episode occurred. The floor under him suddenly gave way. A trap-door opened at his feet. _ Chair and man descended with the rapidity of lightning. He dashed through space. Then, with a dull thud, he struck the rocky floor twenty feet below. Insensibility dfasued. He laid there for miuutos or hours, he knew not which. Then consciousness slowly returned. He shuddered as he recalled his recent experience, for he now knew that he was a prisoner in the hands of Crombie. He lay perfectly still, as a sudden glare of light illumined the place. It proceeded from the trap door, at which a lantern and two men were visible. One of them was Crombie. “Well,” his companion spoke, “you have got another prisoner, eh?” “A dead one, I guess, for the fall has probably killed him.” “Who is he?” “A friend of our first prisoner,” “And an enemy of Arden?” “Exactly.” “What are you going to do with them?” “Flood the place to-night, and let them die.”

“But your first prisoner may yet reveal the secret of his wealth.” “No, he won't, and Arden ordered the affair settled. ” “Very well, I’ll flood the place at midnight from the mine.” The trap-door was closed, the two men disappeared. A hollow groan of despair echoed through the dark, underground vault. Ellis started. Could this be the mysterious prisoner Crombie had referred "to? He crept toward the spot whence the sound emanated, and then pausing, drew a match from his pocket and ignited it. Its flare showed a pale, wretched face before him. “Great heavens!” ejaculated Ellis, “Arnold Bordell?” “Yes, yes, who speaks? That voice! It is a friend!” “It is an old friend, Arnold. Don’t you know me—Robert Ellis?” It was a strange meeting. Ellis had succeeded in his mission; he had found the missing Bordell. In agitated tones he told Arnold all of the story of the events succeeding his departure from Elmville, and of his search for him. And in return the banker’s son revealed ihe true mystery of his leaving his borne. It was a strange, tragic recital, and showed Arden to be a scoundrel, and Arnold the victim of a deep, villainous plot.” The night of his disappearance he had been induced by Arden to take a walk a short distance into the country. Suddenly he was seized from behind and blindfolded and gagged. Then he seemed to bo placed in a wagon, and a long journey was begun. For several nights and days the wagon was driven forward, and Arnold was given a few crusts of bread to eat. The wagon was a covered one, and he was kept in it, bound hand and foot. On# of his captors was the man Crombie, and he had several companions. From what he overheard Crombie say, he realized that Arden had formed a terrible plot against him. The latter had changed his books at the bank, embezzled a large amount of money, and had forged a letter purporting to be written by Arnold, and confessing the crime. Arden expected to win Mr. Bordeli’s confidence, marry his daughter, and secure his fortune. Crombie had orders to carry Arnold beyond the hills and kill him in some lonely mountain ravine, where his body would never be discovered. On the night of the tenth day of the journey Arnold Bordell escaped. He had managed to sever his bonds, and sprang from tbe wagon and ran down a narrow mountain path. His captors pursued him. He stumbled and fell. They saw him disappear over the edge of a cliff, and believed he had been killed.

And now comes the strangest part of Arnold’s story. For days he wandered arotmd, for he had not been seriously imured by his fall, having landed on a mo'-s-covered ledge of rocks, and remained there until his captors passed by. He was ignorant of his situation, and wandered here and there in hope of reaching some human habitation, and subsisting on wild fruits and fish. He followed the course of a little stream. One day, where it passed through a secluded ravine, he made a most remarkable discovery. The sands of the stream were filled with golden grains and nuggets. He had made one of the richest finds of pure gold dust in the West. He secured a large bag full, and, after marking the place, and being unable to carry more away, started to find his way back to Elmville, to unmask Arden, and secure aid to return for the gold,

One week later, at nightfall, he saw a camp-fire, and made his way toward it. The next moment, when too late to escape, he recognized the men around it as Crombie and his band. That saght he was removed to the rocky cellar of the cabin they were now in. Here he had languished, a prisoner, ever since. Each day, a little food was thown to him. Each day, his captors endeavored to wrest from him the secret of the gold mine, whence he had obtained the treasure they had found upon him. This was his story. When he had concluded Ellis remained thoughtful for some time. “We must escape,” he said, finally* “It is impossible, ” [replied Arnold, hopelessly. “No; hark! do you hear that?” The sounds of the heavy blows of a pickaxe echoed from the outer wall of their prison. In a flash Ellis comprehended what was transpiring. Crombie’s villainous associate was endeavoring to let in the water, as ordered, from some outside channel. “Can you swim?” he asked of his companion. “ Yes, but I am very weak from my long imprisonment.” “Then cling to me. It is to be a desperate struggle for life.” It proved to be so. The ensuing half hour was the most suspenseful and eventful of their lives. The water poured into the place, and they were lifted on its surface. Supporting Arnold, the dauntless Ellis rose with the flood. At last he could feel the floor of the cabin directly over his head. He pushed at the trap-door. It opened. The room above was dark and tenantless. “We are saved!” gasped Ellis, gratefully, as he climbed through the trap-door and dragged Arnold after him. He reclosed the trap, then they silently stole from the cabin. Their escape had not been discovered. They would not be E ursued, for Crombie and his men would elieve them dead. By daylight Miners Valley was miles away, and they were speeding away to liberty and to patient, anxious Bertha Bordell. Poor Bertha! Little did the faithful Ellis dream of all the startling events that had occurred at Elmville since his departure. For, at the very hour when the fugitives from Miners’ Valley were hastening from their reoent prison, affairs at the banker’s mansion had reached a crisis.

Arden had made a proposal for the hand of Bertha Bordell. She had courteously but firmly refused him. Arden had seen her father. The latter favored his preference, but bade him wait patiently until Betha had forgotten her former lover, Robert Ellis. So time wore on and Arden pretended to have discovered new defalcations on the part of Arnold Bordell. The banker had given almost the entire charge of the bank to Arden, and, nbout the time Ellis arrived at Miners’ Valley, bad gone to a neighboring city on a business visit. That evening Arden had called upon Bertha. He had again pressed his suit, and had again been repulsed. Angered at her aversion, he revealed his true mind. Ho startled her by informing her that he held her father’s fortune in his {lower; that he would wreck the bank uness she consented to wed him. “Miscreant!” Bertha had cried, indignantly, as she ordered him from the house, “do your worst! I could not marry you if I would, for I was secretly wedded to the man I love, Robert Ellis, the night of his departure from Elmville!” With a crestfallen face and with baffled hate in his heart, Arden left the Bordell mansion. “The crisis has come!” he muttered. “I can never hope to gain the girl now. Before another day I will fly with the funds of the bank and content myself with that.” And the next morning a telegram recalled Mr. Bordell to Elmville. Arden had indeed acted the villain. He had taken all the available funds of the bank. The institution was seriously embarrassed, Mr. Bordell amazed, crushed. Detectives were sent after Arden, and Mr. Bordell was compelled to borrow all the money he could to replace the stolen funds. For some days the bank’s loss was kept a secret from the general public. Gradually the truth was known. Two weeks after the departure of Arden, there was a run of the depositors on the Elmville bank.

The first day it was confined to the larger creditors, who were easily placated. The second day the smaller depositors took the alarm. Mr. Bordell imagined that the run would be of but brief duration, but began to become anxious as at the end of the day the cash reserve in the bank was depleted to only a few thousand dollars. The third day he sent a trusted employe to the city to negotiate some bonds for ready cash. That morning the street in front of the bank was thronged. At noon a dispatch came from the city. The banker paled as he read it: “Cannot negotiate the security. The stock is a drug on the market." “We must close the bank!” tremulously muttered the banker. “After a quarter of a century of an honorable business career, the firm of John Bordell and Company fails disgracefully.” Poor Bertha, who sat in his private office, endeavored to encourage him, but vainly. His proud spirit was crushed to the very dust of humiliation and defeat. The cashier reported a bare thousand dollais in currency in the vaults. “Pay it out, close the doors, and announce a suspension of the bank,” groaned Mr. Bordell, as he dropped his ashen face into his hands in bitter grief. A sullen roar of rage went up from the crowd outside as the watchman closed the doors. Threats of violence were rife; the excited throng became furious at the supposed loss of their money. They beat at the doors and flung rocks at the window. “Hello! what is all this?” cried a cheery voice, and two young men elbowed their way through the erowd. “The banker’s son, Arnold Bordell, and Robert Ellis!” ejaculated several amazed voices, simultaneously. “Exactly, my friends, but what is the matter here?” demanded Arnold. “A run on the bank,” replied the crowd. “Impossible!” “They’ve just closed the doors of the bank.” “They shall open them again, then. Patience, my friends; no creditor of old John Bordell shall ever lose a dollar!” “Hurrah!"

“As to money—we have thousands here.” Arnold Bordell waved a large sachel in • his hand. He pushed open the doors the bank watchman was just locking, marched straightway behind the counter, and flung it npon the desk. In wild amazement the cashier gazed at him. “Open the doors—come in line! Cashier, verify the accounts, and I will pay these people. ” Arnold had opened the sachel. It was filled with gold coin and bank notes. Then ensued a wild scene of excitement. At the sight of so much money public confidence was restored. In half an hour the run had ceased, and the crowd outside were cheering for the banker. From his private office John Bordell had seen all this as in a dream. He was only aroused when he saw Robert Ellis enfolding the astonished Bertha in his arms, and his son’s hand grasped his own warmly. And then all the truth came out. Arnold and Ellis had come from Miners’ Valley by way of the ravine gold mine, had secured all they could carry, had converted it into cash, and had arrived at Elmville just in time to save the bank. Two hours later a telegram from tho far West announced that Arden had been found and his stolen gains secured. He had been shot while escaping, confessed the plot against Arnold Bordell, and died. The public knew all the 6trange story the ensuing day, and John Bordell was a proud man at the establishment of his wronged son’s innocence. There was a wedding at the Bordell mansion a few months later, and the happiest pair that ever trod the earth were Robert Ellis and Bertha Bordell, his charming bride.