Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 September 1900 — 'Twixt Life Deanth [ARTICLE]

'Twixt Life Deanth

BY FRANK BARRETT

CHAPTER X.—(Continued.) In order to conceal bis astonishment, Griffiths bad to bear in mind that this old gentleman and bis son were “Germans or something;” and that to people of that kind nothing in the way of sentiment is too extravagant. “You have seen her, F suppose, sir?” he asked. “Yes. We sat beside her at a theater. I noticed her when we rose to go. She drooped her fan, and my son picked it up. She smiled on him. That la the only time I have seen her.” “What part of the bouse were you in?” “The stalls." t “Which row?” “The third from the front, I think.” “Was she alone?” “No, she was with a woman; a woman old enough to be her mother. I disliked her, but 1 did not see anything in the girl that 1 disliked.” “Were the stalls well‘'filled?” “Yes; I did not see one empty seat.” “Then they paid for their seats. Orders would have gone to the back row. That shows they mast be pretty well off.” “1 have no doubt about that. They were dressed magnificently. Besides, they have a carriage and ride fine horses.” “How did yon learn that, sir?” "My son bus seen them in the park since that night." “When?" “Many times- in the afternoon.” Griffiths started to his feet. “Come along with me, sir,” said he. “We may be there in time to catch sight of ’em to-day. Only just point out the female and I’ll undertake to find out her name and address and all the rest before the week’s out.” The cab that had brought Mr. Petersen was standing outside the door. “That cab won’t do,” said Mr. Griffiths, at a glance. “Tl»e horse is no good, and the man’s a fool. Pay him, sir.” At the cab stand he found a hansom to his taste—rubber tires, good horse, and a driver as spry as a terrier. “I may want you to go sharp, and I may want you to go slow," said Griffiths to the driver. “Yussir,” replied the driver attentively, with the perception that he had a good job in hand. "When F shove the trap up sharp, go like blazes; when I shove it up slow, slacken down till it closes, and keei> up that pace. Don’t stop till I sing out. Understand?” “Yussir. Where to?" “Straight before you. Take your direction from my walking stick, and keep a sharp lookout for it. Understand?” Following these directions the cabman drove like the wind to the park. There he turned round, and returned the same way at a smart trot, turning at the corner, and pulling up by the sidewalk within a hundred yards of the entrance. They had passed scores of carriages, but up to this point Mr. Peterson had failed to detect the ladies they sought, though he had followed several with his eye uneasily. “Are you pretty certain you’ll know the parties if you see ’em?" asked Griffiths, observing the painful anxiety in the old gentleman’s face with misgivings. “1 have seen three or four women like the elder of the two, but none like the younger. There is not among them all one so beautiful."

“Seems to me, sir, there's more riders than drivers to-day. Sort o’ day that I should take to the saddle if I had the choice. We'll have n look at the Row." He got out and nodded to the driver ns a signal to wait; he also cast a glance at the constable on duty in the road, who, recognizing him, acknowledged the glance by raising his hand in salute. In the Row he stationed himself with Mr. Petersen at the railings. “Who have you got your eye on, sir?" he asked presently, “My son -my poor Eric. He is over there in the light suit like mine.” A tall, well-built young man, with a fair face and n light mustache, was looking eagerly up the Row. “I should have taken him for an Englishman—a young gent from college,” E. > Griffiths soliitxpiixed mentally. “He don’t look like a fool—anyways not such a fool as to go mad about a female he’s never spoke to.” "J do not see them here,” said Mr. Petersen, despondingly. “P’raps not, sir; but they’re here. Don’t you see how the young gentleman keeps his eyes turned one way, and takes no notice of anybody passing before him? Keep your eye that way, too, sir—never mind Mr. Erie.” They wailed five minutes; then Mr. Petersen, in hushed excitement, murmured: “Those two, I think. lam not sure. Yes, I think the graceful lady on the outer side Is the one.” "I am sure of ita," said Griffiths, emphatically. “Look nt your son.” < The young man had drawn baek from the rail, and his face, transfigured with ■n ineffable joy, was gazing on the young girl passing before him. While the old gentleman turned hia eyes with tender anxiety upon his son, Griffiths wits taking in the two Indies in u penetrating, comprehensive glance. One was of a type that he recognized in a mo-ment-a shapely woman of the world with a very white nose, dark eyebrows and a knot of loose, soft, golden hair; the other, a young girl, radiant with health nnd happiness, her white teeth glooming through her parted lips, her large, dark eyes sparkling with innocent enjoyment, was certainly not of the kind generally seen with such a companion. Griffiths shot a glance at the groom that followed them. “Come on, sir, I’ve got ’em!” he said, exultantly. “Do you know them?" asked Mr. Petersen. “No, but I know their groom. They're hired horses, and the groom comes from Dyer's livery stable*. However, I shall -wake sure,” be added, as he sprang into

the cab and signaled the driver. “Drop in on me to-morrow morning, air." The next morning Mr. Petersen presented himself early at Dean’s Yard. “It’s all right, sir,” said Griffiths. “The elder lady calls herself Mrs. Merrivale — a widow.” “I noticed she wore some white inside her black bonnet when she left the theater." “Yes; It goes with her yellow hair, black. But she ain’t a widow and her name ain’t Merrivale. Her name’s Redmond. and she’s run away from z her husband." "And the young gn-T ” “Said to be her niece, but she ain’t that. Her name's Grahame.’ “Impostors both." “Yes, sir. But you needn't worry about your son. They’ll be up before the magistrate before a week’s out.” "They have done something wrong?” “I should think they had. Embezzlement; that’s what they'll be hall up for; and they’ll go to prison for it, as sure as my name's Griffiths!" CHAPTER XT. "You say they will be sent to prison for embezzlement,” said Mr. Petersen, reflectively—“tell me the meaning of that, word ’embezzlement.' ” —"Getting goods -under false pretenses—• that’s embezzlement, sir,” replied the private inquiry agent. « “And yet they keep horses and carriages and dress like that!” "Why, that's just how they do it. The West End tradesmen are constantly being done. A friend of mine, in the same line of business as myself, is employed by one of these firms to find out whether a new customer is a smasher or otherwise. I called on him last night, and he told me all about these two females. It appears his employers are going for ’em, cost what it may. It's throwing good money after bad, as you may’ say. They’ll never get back a penny for the goods they’ve let go; but, you see, they have to make a public example now and then to frighten some of the shaky ones into paying up.” "Is that young girl guilty as well as the woman?” “Both in it, sir: and, from information received, I should say the young girl was more in it than the other. It’s she who’s Jet ’em in ami got credit all around-” “What is this? Do you tell me that practiced men of business would give large credit to a young girl like that?” “1 don't think they would if they’d known it; but the parties took precious good care they shouldn’t. This is how they did it. The young.lady has a lot of cards printed with her name, ‘Yanease Grahame,’ under a crest, and ‘Grahame Towers’ over the London address in a corner. But auntie gives the cards, and orders the things to be sent home, and consequently leads me to believe she's Vanessa Grahame. They worked another dodge of the same kind. It seems that they brought a pony carriage to London with ’em—very smart turnout; handsome black cob and silver-plated harness. There was a monogram, ‘M. R.’ on the panel of the trap, and the same on the harness—showing that it belonged to this Mrs. Merrivale, who formerly called herself Redmond. Well, the first thing they did was to take off the monogram and stick Miss Grahame's crest in the place of it. Clever, wasn't it?” "It is dreadful to think of.” “Why, so it is, sir-especially for the creditors. They’ve booked the things to Vanessa Grahame and can't get a penny out of her; nor her people, if she's got any, seeing that she's a minor; and silks ami furs and horse riding and a villa furnished up to the nines are not exactly necessities to n person in her circumstances, It appears," continued Griffiths,

consulting iris notebook, “that they came to London Aug. 21—barely two months ago—and put up for a week at the Grosvenor Hotel—there’s cheek for you! Then they went into this villa at St. John’s Wood—the Pines.” "Where is St. John’s Wood?” "Northwest district, sir where a lot of people of this sort live." “What sort of people?” “Why, parties who haven't any regular source of income. The party they took this villa of is in the musical line, and she’s gone to America with an operatic company. There they've been going it like anything living tip to a couple of thousand n year, 1 should say, what with theaters every night, horse riding, pony carriage and four servants.” Mr. I’etersen said something in his own language which was quite incomprehensible to F. Griffiths, but in his voice there was an unmistakable tone of regret. "Don’t you worry about your sou, sir. There's evidence enough to convict both the females of swindling. I’ve jotted down one or two facta here ” “No, I have heard enough,” said Mr. Petersen, turning in bls chair with a repelling movement of his hand. ."Well, I've done the best I could for you,” said Griffiths in an injured tone, feeling that his client had ecery reason to ho satisfied with the result of his inquiries. “Yes, you have done well.” “I thought you didn't seem quite satisfied.” “No, I am not satisfied when 1 think of that young girl, ns F have seen her, quite n young maid—not older than my own daughter.” “Well, there's nothing more to be done, I suppose,” said Griffiths. “Yea there is," replied Mr, Petersen, after a moment’s reflection; "find out more about Mias Grahame. Ail we know now is what you have learned from a man occupied la securing evidence to convict her of evil. 1 cannot believe that she is quite wicked, and I nin sure- -yes, quite sure—that my sou wifi uot believe it.” “Why, as you say, sir, it’s only one man’s opinion, and he’s biased, one or two points In the case that I can't quite make out satisfactorily, and it may be she'll turn out to be only a tool in this

Mrs. Redmond’s hands when the truth Is known." "That is what I want—the truth. Nothing more.” “Well, I’ll have to go at it, sir, nnd learn all there is to be learnt,” said Griffiths, with renewed cheerfulness. “In the meantime, don’t you say a word about this to your son.” “Heaven forbid I should do that wrong to Miss Grahame,” said Mr. Petersen. He lift the office, promising io call the next day. ■ Griffiths sat for some time in consideration; then be put money in his pocket and wont out to buy the truth about Miss Grahame. At the Grosvenor he learned that Mrs. Redmond and Miss Grahame owed nothing for their board. Oft leaving they had settled their account with a check for one hundred pounds, drawn in favor of Vnnexoa Grahame by Hynms Nichols. The ume was well known to the private detective; Nichols was a professional money lender. It wus dated the same day that they left the Grosvenor. It looked aj if they had been staying there only till they got the money to pay their bill. But it puzzled Griffiths to imagine how they had got th* money out of Nichols; he was the last man in the world to be taken in by pretenses of any kind. It cosi Mr. Griffiths two whole days and thy best part of a five-pound note before he got within measurable distance of an He succeeded at length, however, in gel ting Mr. Benjamin Levy, a clerk to Mr. Hynms Nichols, into his office, and thete brought him to a communicative spirit. “Mrs. Redmaud came to us the very day vhfl left her husband,” Mr. Levy explained. “She brought Miss Grahame with 'aer. The young lady was dressed plainly, and looked particularly pale. “ ‘Read this, if you please,’ says Mrs. Redmond, laying a paper on the table before the governor as soon as they were seated. "He reads it—so did F afterward. It was a will, leaving an estate worth forty or fifty thousand pounds to Miss Grabame, to l»e hers when she’s twenty-one, with a codicil placing her under the guardianship of James Redmond until she comes of age, nnd bequeathing the whole estate to him in the event of her dying a minor. Do’you see?” Griffiths nodded. “When the governor had read it through, Mrs. Redmond says, ‘This is Miss Grahame; I am the wife of her guardian, James Redmond. I have given up my home and all I "have in the world, and brought this unfortunate young lady to London in order to save her from being murdered by the most infamous scoundrel living—that scoundrel is my husband, James Redmond.’ “ ‘ls it possible?’ says the governor, as if he'd never come across such a thing before. “’Miss Grahame-herself will tell you that an attempt was made upon her life last night. Is not that true, Nessa?’ “ ‘I should not have been alive now but for you, dear,’ replies the poor young lady, in a low, tone, taking Mrs. Redmond’s hand affectionately. "The governor was astounded, of course; he says, 'And what do you propose to do, my dear ladies?’ “ ‘I intend,’ says Mrs. Redmond, ‘to live in London and keep Miss Grahame under my protection until she is entitled to her estate and is no longer in danger of falling a victim to my husband's machinations. But lam without means. As I told you,, I have abandoned everything. I have nothing but the pohy carriage in which we made our escape from Grahame Towers and a few personal effects.’ “ 'Your husband has no legal claim upon that property, of course?’ says the governor, getting on to business. “ ‘None,’ snys she; T havb nothing that belongs to him—not even a name. That is a stain I will not bear. Henceforth I shall be known only by my maiden name —Merrivale.’ “‘A very proper decision, Mrs. Merrivale,’ says the governor. ‘And now, F presume, you want me to give you a temporary pecuniary assistance?’ “‘Not for myself, but for Miss Grahame,’ says Mrs. Redmond. ‘She must live during the next three years in a manner suitable to the position she is to occupy when she comes of age. For that purpose I wish you to advance the sum of five thousand pounds on the security of that will.’ (To be continued.)