People's Pilot, Volume 2, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 May 1893 — ALITTLE COMEDY OF ERRORS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

ALITTLE COMEDY OF ERRORS

By SSMORTON

fOopy righted, 1891, by S. S. Morton, and published by special arrangement] CHAPTER Xlll.— Continued. He took up Mrs. Dunkirk’s letter, ■which had lain all this time unnoticed on the table at his elbow, and, unfolding the thin blue paper, he glanced at it speculatively. “That was ray only claim, yet she seemed to consider it sufficient. This may be merely my own mistaken interpretation of her words, however. What opinion have you formed, Mr. North, as to the value of this letter as evidence in our case?” North preserved a meditative silence lor a few moments; then he answered, slowly: “I must say, Mrs. Maynard, that in my opinion this letter clearly proves that Mrs. Dunkirk, although not yet

Teady to declare the fact, had determined to make yon her heir, on the one condition that her niece were never discovered. Hear her own words: ‘While I live I must retain the control of my •property; after I am gone, what matter to me who has it?’ She would as lief it should be you as anyone else, you see; yes, she would prefer you, as the lines further on indicate: 'There Is no one that has a greater claim upon me than yourself. This claim I feel at present’—the emphasis is my own, but mark the words, if you please; do they not clearly indicate the writer’s character?—‘at present inclined to recognize.’ Delightfully neutral, charmingly non-committal; giving you to understand, you see, that, after all, she might change her mind. It gave her a sense ■of power to keep you in suspense as to her real intentions; at the same time her purpose remained unchanged, I have no doubt. ‘Charitable bequests I «lo not favor.’ Why? ‘I have given freely to public and private charities during my lifetime, and have received but meager thanks.’ She was weary of -the ingratitude of the public. She reasoned, and indeed she reasoned well, that if they gave ‘but meager thanks’ while the beneficent donor was living, and there was a possibility of still further gifts when she was gone, and there would be nothing to look for be.yond the testamentary bequests, she would receive no thanks at all. No, ’no! She wished her fortune to go to -some one who would be grateful for it; .some one who could properly value it; some one who had a reasonable claim upon her generosity; and that person, of all others in the world, was clearly and indisputably yourself, Mrs. MaysanL” North had folded Mrs. Dunkirk's letter, replaced it in the envelope, and tossed it down on the table again while he was speaking these last words. He now rose and stood idly gathering up bis notebook, pencil and papers, as if preparing to leave. While he was thus engaged the footman entered, bearing to Mrs. Maynard a small scrap of paper, which he presented with an air of dignified disdain. The lady glanced at the paper for an instant with a rather blank expression; then with a sudden gleam of comprehension she held it out toward North. “This has as much interest for you, ■perhaps, as for myself, Mr. North,” she “The inquiry was for Mrs. Maynard,” IViliSnmc “Very well, Williams, M said Mrs. .Maynard, dismissing him.

By time North had with a little curiosity scanned the paper that she had given him, and his expression was even more blankly amazed than hers had been. It was only a name that was scrawled on the bit of paper that his fingers held; but that name was Dennis O’Reilly. “Dennis O’Reilly? What does this mean?” he asked himself in puzzled speculation. “In this a mere coincidence, or am I on the verge of an important discovery?” Mrs. Maynard interrupted his meditations. “It is the man who claimed to have a knowledge of Annie Dupont’s history, is it not, Mr. North? The name certainly seems familiar to me, as if I had heard it recently.” “Why, yes,” answered .North, too much bewildered by this unexpected turn of events to consider his words very carefully, “he is certainly the man;

but why does he come here? And why should he inquire for you?” 1 “These are questions that I might more naturally ask of you,” said Mrs. Maynard, a little coldly, as she regarded North with a glance of surprise. “Is he not acting upon your instructions? I understood you to say, a few days ago, that you had seen this man and had taken measures to gain possession of his pretended evidence. Have you decided o to abandon that investigation, in view of our recent disaster in New York?” There was almost the suggestion of a refined sneer in these last words. Had North been attending to them he would have detected the .subtle sarcasm and also Hie desperate pain that forced it from her; but his mind was at that moment otherwise absorbed. Mrs. Maynard’s words had let in a flood of light upon the mystery that had been perplexing him. Dennis O’Reilly’s appearance there was fully accounted for. “Another singular throw of the dice,” he said to himself, with grim satisfaction, “and, as usual, it is in my favor. I had actually almost forgotten this mau who was the real c£use of my coming to X , and I had no very sanguin| expectations of being able to And efforts in that direction thus far having totally failed; and behold, he turns up without an intervention or purpose of mine, all ready to play Noll’s game right into mv hands! Well, I have some claim up#n him anyway, in view of his overtures to Hunter and Ketchum; and if he is trying to play a double game, I shall bring him sharply to book!” With this reflection, North turned to take leave of Mrs. Maynard. “There must have been some misunderstanding about this matter, Mrs. Maynard,” he said, suavely. “I certainly do not wish you to be annoyed by this person, since I can conduct the investigation without your direct assistance. I will see the man at once, and ascertain whether or not he really possesses information that will be valuable to us. I will devote as much time as possible to this investigation and will call from time to time to report progress; shall I?” The permission was coldly granted, and North with a bow of farewell withdrew from the drawing room, curious about his coming interview with Dennis O’Reilly.

CHAPTER XIV. King—An hour of quiet shortly shall we see: Till then, in patience our proceeding be. —Hamlet He found the man waiting in the hall. He was apparently about forty years of age, short, stout and red-faced with bristling red hair and whiskers, twinkling blue eyes, and an expression of shrewd native humor. His clothing, though of cheap quality, was neat and whole, and he had the ’general appearance of a thrifty workingman. Not at all the “seedy” adventurer that North had half expected to see. He looked up with a slight degree of astonishment, but an unmistakable recognition in his round wide-open eyes, as North approached him; then, bowing low with his hat in his hand, he advanced the plain, indisputable and selfevident proposition: “Well, Miather North, I’ve got back.” North surveyed him critically from head to foot for an instant. Then he put a leading question abruptly: “You are Dennis O’Reilly, are you not?”

“Indade, sorr, an’ I am that same,” admitted Dennis with another low bow. “Did you wish to see me?” “Yis, sorr, by yer honor’s lave.” “Why did you come here, then, and inquire for Mrs. Maynard?” “Sure, an’ that was just what yer honor tould me to do,” protested Dennis. “ ’Twas yersilf, sorr, as tould me that yer honor would be out of town whin I got back, an’ so I was to report mesilf to Mistkress Maynard.” North nodded slightly at this confirmation of his own shrewd suspicion; adding instantly to Dennis: “Where have yon been for the last few days? Why didn’t you report sooner?” “Sooner, is it, sorr? Indade, thin, an’ I’ve been jist where yer honor sint me, sorr,” was the evasive reply as Dennis began to eye his questioner somewhat askance. “Oh, come on!” exclaimed North, suddenly taking up his hat from the hall table. “I cannot turn Mrs. Maynard’s house into an inquisition, and the prea-

ent prospect is that I shall have to resort to the thumb-screws and rack before I succeed in obtaining any satisfactory information ” Thb last was an aside, as he hurriedly drew on his gloves; then to Dennis he added more intelligibly: “Come with me to my hotel, and we will have a confidential talk about this matter.” Nothing loath, Dennis followed the gentleman from the house and down the street at a pace set by North’s impatience. They did not exchange another syllable until they were closeted together in North’s room at the Clement house; then throwing himself down in his favorite lounging chair and facing O’Reilly, who was seated near him, North returned to the charge. “Now, O’Reilly, there’s an agreement, a business contract between us. Do you understand that?” It was not clear, from Mr. O’Reilly’s expression of countenance, that North’s meaning had fully penetrated and permeated his intelligence; but notwithstanding his slightly blank look, he gave a prompt and enthusiatic affirmative to this question. “What do you understand to be the terms of our agreement?" continued North, determined to know his ground perfectly before he ventured upon any personal negotiations with the man. “We’ve both agreed to do something, haven’t we?” This at least was within the scope of Dennis’ instant comprehension. His ruddy face glowed as he responded emphatically: “Thrue for you, sorr. An’ it’s misilf as wull kape me worrud about that same.” “Of course, Dennis, of course; you will keep your word and I shall keep mine. Now, what was it that you j agreed to do for me? Let us be per- j fectly sure, before we go any further, j that we understand each other.” The expediency of this precaution seemed to recommend itself to Dennis at once, and he proceeded to do his utmost toward establishing that desirable mutual understanding. “Wull, sorr,” he began, looking reflectively at North, “it was all along o’ the sthir made about Annie Dupont, an’ thim lawyers in New York puttin’ so much in the papers about her, an’ me knowin’ the whoile what a dale o’ throublc had been caused by me own cousin Patrick O’Gorman’s wife; for who ud it be but Ann Murphy herself, before the praste made her Ann O’Gorman (bad luck to me cousin Patrick when he did that same!) who was housekeeper an’ me the coachman for the misthress an’ the swate young leddy as was Annie Dupont, sorr, an’ niver knew ut!” The narrative becoming slightly involved here. North, who had followed it thus far with intent look fixed upon the speaker, interposed. “I don’t understand what you are talking about, Dennis,” he said, a little impatiently, “but I gather from what you say that you know something about Annie Dupont. Is this so?” “Sure, an’ haven’t I been thryin’ to till yer honor that same?” protested | Dennis, eagerly. “It was tillin’ a j friend about it that I was. an’ about ! thim paphers that contain all the information that thim New York lawyers are advertisin’ for, an’ the paphers safe in Ann O’Gorman’s clutches, bad luck to her, whin yer honor sthipped up to me on the strato an’ sez, quiet-like: ‘l’ll give yez fifty dollars, Dinnis, if ycz wull bring them paphers to me!’ An’ that’s the long an’ short of our agrayment, sorr.” And Dennis rubbed his hands, together complacently as if satisfied that he had now made the case sufficiently comprehensible even to Mr. North’s mind. North was regarding O’Reilly with close attention, and up to this point he felt reasonably convinced of the man’s honesty of purpose. If this were true—this story of which already enough had

been told to suggest its remaining details —then it seemed quite possible that he would be able to accomplish the mission on which, as the representative of Hunter & Ketchum, he had come to X . But did he now honestly wish for this consummation? He had personal interests that were trembling in the balance; how would these be effected by the discovery and identification of Annie Dupont and the establishment of her legal position as her aunt’s heir? Would she make an effort to discover and pursue with all the penalties of the law the authors of that forgery by which it had been attempted to wrest her inheritance from her? Should he, who held a brother’s good name in his hand, place it within her power to seek this retribution? He was no longer the champion of Annie Dupont. For one moment of passionate feeling, of desperate temptation, it seemed to him that he could ruthlessly sweep her from his path, upon which she had so suddenly risen with aa indefinable menace, and shroud in deeper mystery than ever before the fate of one whose truthful history the world should never know.

But with the next moment came a swift recoil from this temptation, a feeling of amazement thfct he should have entertained such a thought. Ollin must be shielded if possible, but not at such a cost as that. Rather, for Ollin’s sake, to undo as far as possible tho terrible wrong that he had attempted. This unknown, friendless orphan, heir

to a proud name and wealth, though now living perhaps in humble obscurity, must be sought out and placed in possession of her rightful inheritance. North had been slowly pacing the floor while these thoughts were passing through his mind. Seating himself now beside Dennis, he continued his inquiries. “How long have you known these facts about Annie Dupont, Dennis?” ‘Tver since me cousin Patrick tould me, at Teddy O’Corrigan’s wake, sorr,” returned Dennis, after a pause of recollection. “But when was that? I know nothing about Teddy O’Corrigan’s wake. Can you not tell me more definitely than that?” Dennis reflected again with his face contorted as if the effort of memory were a painful one. “Indade, thin.” he exclaimed, suddenly radiant with triumph, “it was soon after St. Patrick’s day, for I remember that poor Teddy died of a brick-bat in the hands of one of the byes, which same was nivir mint for Teddy at all, at all,but for the blatherin’ perliceman that was makin’ himsilf troublesome to the byes in the purade.” “St. Patrick’s day?” repeated North. “Then it is nearly a year since Patrick told you. Have you talked to anyone about the matter during this time?” “Nivir a bit, sorr, till the day whin yer honor heard me tellin’ Jim Nolan about it.” “Was tnat before or after you had written to Hunter and Ketchum, of New York, offering to give them this information?” The question was asked sternly, and North’s face was equally stern as he spoke. Dennis started as if he had been shot, and his eyes grew more round than ever in his astonishment and dismay. He was beginning to stammer out some answer, when North coolly added: “Don’t lose your senses, now, nor attempt to evade my question. I happen to know all about that little affair, and I wish to know whom you communicated with first: for it is pretty evident that you have been accommodating enough to offer yourself to both parties. Come, now, to my question again. Was it before or after you had written to Hunter and Ketchum?” Dennis had not yet recovered from the confusion into which he had been thrown on being thus suddenly confronted with his double-dealing; but he answered, humbly; “It was after, yer honor.” [TO BE CONTINUED.]

THE FOOTMAN ENTERED.

THAT NAME WAS DENNIS O’REILLY.