Mrs. Wilson Woodrow - The Black Pearl

M >> Mrs. Wilson Woodrow >> The Black Pearl

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

"So have I for that matter," said Seagreave.

"All right, if it amuses you." Hanson shrugged his shoulders
indifferently and leaned up against a tree which, growing before the
cabin, had escaped the sweep of the avalanche. "Lord! Don't I know what
you two cut-throats stand ready to do to me? And no one any the wiser.
Well, what the hell do I care? But say, Seagreave, since we're all
having this nice little afternoon tea talk together, sociable as a
Sunday school, it might do you good to take some account of the
has-beens. Here's Bob, he had her before I did, but that ain't taking
away the fact that I had her once, by God! I guess everybody understands
that there's more behind those emeralds than the pretty story we've all
heard so often. The Black Pearl certainly ain't cheap."

"Let him alone, Harry." Bob Flick's voice arresting Seagreave in his
swift rush toward Hanson had never been more liquid, more languid. All
through Hanson's speech his face had not shown even a flicker of
expression. "This is mine. It always has been mine, and I've known it
ever since you and me, Mr.----, I never can recall your name, but, then,
yellow dogs ain't entitled to 'em, anyway--met in the desert."

"I guess that's straight. You always had it in for me from the first
night I saw her. Well, you'll only be finishing what she begun. She
broke me; she drove me straight to hell. Maybe it was a mis-spent life I
offered her, but when I met her I had money and success, I wasn't a
soak. I still had the don't-give-a-damn snap in me, and, even if you're
middle-aged, that's youth. But she's like a fever that you can't shake
off. And she don't play fair. But she's the only one. You know that, Bob
Flick, and she didn't have the right--"

"I ain't ever questioned her right, Hanson"--Flick used his name for the
first time--"and I'm standing here to prove it now. For the sake of Miss
Gallito, because she once took notice of you, I'm going to treat you
like you was a gentleman. Here's your gun. Take your twenty paces. And,
remember, this ain't to wound, it's to kill."

Hanson took the pistol and measured off the paces. Then he turned and
looked from one man to another with a smile of triumph on his evil face.
"Broke by the Black Pearl and then shot by her dog! That's a nice
finish. I can shoot some myself, but I ain't in your class, Flick, and
you know it. I guess not. I prefer my own route." He looked toward the
cabin, where it seemed to him that Pearl or her shadow wavered a moment
in the doorway. "Here's dying to you, honey," and before either man
could stop him he lifted his pistol and shot himself through the heart.

* * * * *

In the meantime certain events of more importance than the passing of
Hanson, to those involved, were taking place in Mrs. Nitschkan's cabin.
As soon as Gallito had left the mine and taken his way up to Seagreave's
Jose also had departed from his cell by way of the ravine and had
hastened to the abode of Mrs. Nitschkan, where he and Mrs. Thomas were
soon absorbed in the composition of various appetizing dishes, for with
the connivance of the two women Jose hoped that evening again to
subjugate Gallito with the spell of his cookery, and win back the
indulgence he had been steadily losing.

The afternoon, then, was passing most pleasantly for both Mrs. Thomas
and himself when suddenly the door was flung open and Mrs. Nitschkan,
who had been fishing in a creek further down the hill, came dashing in.

"Jose," she cried, "the Sheriff and his boys is all out after you again.
There's nobody else they'd want up this way. They couldn't keep under
cover all the way, for they had to cross the bridge, and I happened to
see 'em then. Get out quick through the trees for Harry's cabin."

"But I don't know the secret trail."

"Gallito does. Anyway, cut for it an' maybe I can throw them off the
scent. Gosh a'mighty! Cut for it. They're here."

With one last, hasty kiss on Mrs. Thomas' cheek, Jose was out of the
door like a flash.

"Now quick, Marthy." Mrs. Nitschkan had seized a pair of scissors and
cut the pocket from her skirt, tucking the roll of bills which it
contained into her man's boot. "Cry, Marthy, cry like you never cried
before. Go on, I say. Yelpin's your strong suit. Now yelp."

With that she fell to swearing lustily herself and throwing the
furniture about, even turning the stove over and sending a great shower
of soot about the room.

At the height of all this noise and confusion, dominated, it must be
said, by Mrs. Thomas's loud and, to do her justice, sincere weeping,
there came a thunderous knocking on the door, and without waiting to
have it answered the sheriff threw it open and stepped in.

"Holy smoke!" he cried. "What you knockin' down the cook-stove for?"

"'Cause I'm fightin' mad, that's why," returned Mrs. Nitschkan tartly,
"and I sure am glad to see you. I been robbed, that's what. Ain't that
so, Marthy?"

Mrs. Thomas lifted her tear-stained face and corroborated this with
mournful nods.

"Whilst I was takin' a little nap," went on Mrs. Nitschkan excitedly, "a
rascal brother of Gallito's who shouldn't never have been let out of
jail cut the pocket clean out of my skirt and stole my roll. Look here!"
exhibiting the jagged hole, and also the empty pocket which lay upon the
floor, "I just waked up to find him gone. He can't have got far, though.
I guess he thinks I ain't on to that rock chamber Gallito blasted out
for him in the Mont d'Or, but he showed it to Marthy here, and she
showed it to me. Come on, and we'll get down there quick."

"Some of us will." The sheriff was inclined to believe her, and yet he
was still suspicious. A rock chamber in the Mont d'Or! That certainly
accounted for the miraculous escape of last winter.

"Pedro?" he asked. "Are you sure it ain't Jose?"

"I ain't heard of any Jose, have you Marthy?" asked Mrs. Nitschkan
innocently. "Pedro was his name. But come on quick."

"Two of you boys search this cabin and the woods around," ordered the
sheriff, "and two of you go up to Seagreave's cabin. The rest come along
with me."

Led by Mrs. Nitschkan, still volubly lamenting her loss, they started
down the hill toward the ravine, when the sheriff suddenly looked up to
see upon the crest of the hill just before it dipped into a descending
slope two horsemen at full gallop, both horses and riders outlined
against the sky.

"Our men are up there, boys," he cried. "Quick. I've got the fastest
horse in the county, and we'll get them before they get to three rocks."

He was back to his horse again and on it and up the hill before his men
were fairly in the saddle. It was a race after that, and so rapidly did
he gain on Gallito and Jose that it looked as if his prediction of
getting them before they reached three rocks was about to be verified.
"I must do it, I must do it," he kept muttering to himself, "for it's
bad going after that, and it'll take us all some time to find him."

He was lessening the distance between them with every long, powerful
stride of his horse, but already the three rocks, gaunt and high, loomed
before him as if forming an impassable barrier across the road.
Suddenly, just as Jose and Gallito had almost reached them and the
sheriff was gaining upon the fugitives in great leaps, he saw them
swerve their horses aside and dash into a clump of trees to the right of
the rocks.

"Oh, the fools! the fools! I got 'em now. Instead of going for the
rocks, they've made for the trees."

A few minutes later he and his men found the horses ridden by Gallito
and Jose blown and hard-breathing among the trees, but no trace could
they discover of the men they sought. Beyond the three rocks the
character of the hills changed strikingly. Instead of the wide,
undulating, wooded plateau, over which riding was so easy, the mountains
suddenly seemed split by mighty gashes, a great pocket of crevasses and
towering cliffs.

The sheriff and his men beat about aimlessly and conscientiously for
several hours, but in vain. Jose and Gallito had long before "hit" the
secret trail. So finally the sheriff, who was inclined to put less faith
than ever in Hanson's representations, and convinced in his own mind
that Gallito was merely conniving at the escape of an unregenerate
brother, and that Mrs. Nitschkan's tale was true, called off his men and
rode home. "The cuss ain't important," he remarked, "and I guess
Gallito'll be glad enough to make up Nitschkan's loss to her and keep
her mouth shut."

* * * * *

It was evening. Pearl and Seagreave sat in the door of the cabin. Her
head drooped, her hands lay listlessly in her lap, and her brooding gaze
was fixed on the soft, dark night. "Oh," she cried at last, "how can I
do anything but leave you? Look at the mischief I've done in the world.
Look at it!"

Seagreave clasped his arms about her and laid his cheek on hers. "Let's
forget it all, Pearl, forget that you've been a firebrand and I've been
a quitter, and begin life all over again. There's only one thing in it,
anyway, and that's love."

"Just love," she answered softly. "Well, love's enough."

* * * * *

APPLETON'S RECENT BOOKS

NOVELS

JAPONETTE (The Turning Point). By Robert W. Chambers, author of "The
Common Law," "The Firing Line," "The Fighting Chance," "Iole," etc. With
26 pictures by Charles Dana Gibson. Inlay on Cover. Cloth, $1.35 net.
Postpaid, $1.47.

"Japonette" is one of the most delightful stories Mr. Chambers has ever
written. It is the romance of a bewilderingly pretty girl and a young
New York society man. Just as they come to know each other, Fate steps
in and renders them both penniless by wrecking the great firm in which
their fortunes are invested. How the idle young man, without occupation
or profession, is moved to swing about and take up the business of life
in dead earnest is told with the brilliance and animation which are Mr.
Chambers's chief assets. "Perhaps there are some people who would not
like 'Japonette'; if such there are one ought to be sorry for
them."--_Boston Transcript_.

THE PRICE SHE PAID. By David Graham Phillips, author of "The Grain of
Dust," "The Husband's Story," "Old Wives for New," etc. 12mo. Cloth,
$1.30 net. Postpaid, $1.42.

"The Price She Paid" is the story of a young woman, raised in luxury and
idleness, who by the sudden death of her father, is thrown upon her own
resources. Talented and determined, she sets out to be an opera singer,
but the way is long and rough and she is obliged to pay the full price
before success crowns her efforts. "Little idea is conveyed in a brief
outline of the terseness and vigor of the story. It is a very
significant book for a variety of reasons."--_Philadelphia Press_. "It
is a question whether among the dozens of flesh and blood people whom
David Graham Phillips has created there be one more genuinely real than
this Mildred Gower. Again the marvel of the man is upon us in the full
measure of his realistic artistry."--_Washington Star._

THE FAVOR OF KINGS. By Mary Hastings Bradley. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.30
net. Postpaid, $1.42.

The most spectacular romance of English history--the story of beautiful,
proud, ill-fated Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII and mother of
Queen Elizabeth. "There is no moment when the long, thrilling tale, well
constructed, well characterized, crammed with rapid action, fails to
interest and convince."--_Chicago Record-Herald._

THE SHERIFF OF BADGER. By George Pattullo. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.25
net. Postpaid, $1.37.

A vigorous romance of the cowboy country. A story of the modern cowboy
of the Southwest, the man who does not live with a gun in his hand, but
who fights to a finish when necessity demands it. The Sheriff of Badger
is a flesh and blood individual of pluck and quiet daring. His breezy
adventures will keep you keenly interested and highly entertained.

THE MAKER OF OPPORTUNITIES. By George Gibbs, author of "The Bolted
Door," "The Forbidden Way," etc. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.25 net.
Postpaid, $1.37.

A bright, breezy story about a young club man, who spends all of his
time and most of his comfortable income in providing matrimonial and
other opportunities for his friends. "Very entertaining, full of dash
and vivacity and of cleverness."--_Richmond Times Dispatch._

THE DIARY OF A FRESHMAN. By Charles Macomb Flandrau, author of "Viva
Mexico," "Prejudices," etc. New edition. 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents net.
Postpaid, 87 cents.

This classic of undergraduate life relates the adventures and
misadventures of a youth fresh from a Western home, who is suddenly
dropped into the turmoil of his opening year at a great Eastern college.
From the moment that "Mamma left for home" right up to Class Day, the
author chronicles minutely and most amusingly the experiences of his
freshman hero.

HALCYONE. By Elinor Glyn, author of "The Reason Why," "His Hour," etc.
Cloth, $1.30 net. Postpaid, $1.42.

Mrs. Glyn's new novel is a very modern love story in which the
principals are a dreamy little girl--a finished product of Greek life
and thought--and a rising young politician, with a fine old professor as
the god in the machine. The scenes are laid in a beautiful park in
England, and on the Continent. It is an up-to-date idyll, rich in
romance, rapid in action, pure, clean, wholesome, inspiring. The host of
readers of "The Reason Why" will find this new story exactly to their
liking.

SHARROW. By the Baroness von Hutten, author of "Pam," "Our Lady of the
Beeches," "He and Hecuba," etc. Cloth, $1.30 net. Postpaid, $1.42.

"Sharrow" is a story of complicated plot woven around the possession of
a wonderful old estate owned by the Sharrows since the Middle Ages. "It
is a book of flesh and blood and character, of individuality and power.
Real people walk through its pages and real motives and emotions direct
the movement of the story."--_New York Evening Sun_. "The spell of
Sharrow is cast over the reader before he knows it."--_Baltimore News_.

FAITH BRANDON. By Henrietta Dana Skinner, author of "Espiritu Santo,"
"Heart and Soul," etc. With Frontispiece. Cloth, $1.30 net. Postpaid,
$1.42.

Mrs. Skinner's new novel has for its heroine a most piquant and
delightful American girl, who, at the age of sixteen, falls in love with
a Russian prince. He is a man of lofty character with a serious purpose
in life and devotes his energies to political journalism. The course of
true love runs anything but smoothly. The story is full of action and
incident, and has especial interest through its warmth and color, its
pictures of life in Russia and the humanness of its characters. "A novel
of purpose as well as an enchaining romance."--_Springfield Union_.

_Appleton's Recent Books_

* * * * *

THE MYSTERY OF THE SECOND SHOT.

By Rufus Gillmore. Illustrated with Pen-and-Ink Sketches by Herman
Heyer. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25 net. Postpaid, $1.37.

Bertrand Newhall, a scheming Boston banker, gets control of an old,
reliable trust company, wrecks it to bolster up another business, and
disappears. Police and reporters hunt him in vain. As Ashley, a
reporter, is "combing" the neighborhood of Newhall's home for evidence,
a young girl draws him inside a house, where he finds the banker dead, a
pistol beside him. The police call it suicide, but Ashley thinks
differently, and ultimately he solves a problem quite new in the annals
of crime.

THE NAMELESS THING. By Melville Davisson Post, author of "The Gilded
Chair," etc. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25 net. Postpaid, $1.37.

A thrilling mystery story. The queer death of a recluse in his library
is the main theme. There is absolutely no clue, and the mystery is
doubled by the fact that, although the room is shot up and in the
greatest disorder, both windows and door are found locked on the
inside--the man dead in a pool of his own blood. The clearing up of this
mystery leads the reader through many exciting adventures. "Something
exceptional in the way of detective stories. It is such stories as these
that dignify the art of fiction writing."--_Boston Transcript_.

THE TREVOR CASE. By Natalie S. Lincoln. Illustrated by Edmund Frederick.
12mo. Cloth, $1.30 net. Postpaid, $1.42.

One of the most ingenious and exciting detective novels of recent years.
The scene is Washington. The beautiful young wife of the
Attorney-General is found murdered. A burglar is caught leaving the
house, but incriminating evidence points to other people high in
official and political life. There is a bewildering conflict of clues
and a series of startling climaxes before the case is cleared up. Not
one reader in fifty can guess the ending.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19