CHAPTER VII.
CAUGHT!
It will be remembered that the young hunter who had assisted the woundedRansom Vane, was hailed on his way to the village by the tramp, who hasso far occupied a prominent place in this narrative.
A curious smile flitted over the face of the hunter as he looked at theragged creature before him.
"I am glad to see you, Andrew," said the tramp, extending his hand.
"Are you?"
The hunter refused to touch the dirty paw extended toward him.
"Won't you shake?"
"No. You have made a mistake. I am not Andrew Barkswell."
"Not Andrew Barkswell?"
"No."
"Who then?"
"My name is August Bordine."
"Lord, is that so?" cried Jounce with a grin. "Didn't you just come fromthe man I knifed down yonder?"
"Certainly, and you'll have that to answer for."
"Will he die?"
"I expect so."
"You wouldn't dare appear agin me?"
"I will, as you shall see."
The tramp fell back a step and made a move as if to draw a weapon, butthe muzzle of a cocked rifle cooled his ardor a little.
"Now, see here, what's the use of fooling, pardner?" whined the tramp.
"No use of it. I am in deadly earnest I assure you," returned the hunter."I am of the opinion that you murdered that poor girl last week, and doyou know, sir, there's a big reward offered for you dead or alive?"
"No. How much?"
"Five thousand dollars."
"No-o!"
"It's true."
"Who makes the offer?"
"The proper officer--sheriff, I suppose. Come, now; I think I will takeyou into custody, and haul in that reward."
"But I ain't guilty, and you know it, Andrew."
"Andrew again--"
"No more foolin', old chap. I know you, though, by gum! you _do_ look aheap like the ingineer from Grandon. Mebbe you'n him's related. But seehere, I kin tell you by that, allus."
With a quick movement, the tramp sprang forward and pushed up the hat ofthe hunter, revealing in the roots of the hair a red, ragged scar.
"Your loving wife made that, pardner, and I 'spose you'll acknowledge thecorn now."
"Confound you!"
The hunter seemed angry enough to annihilate the tramp, but the latterstood back and grinned complacently in his face.
"Couldn't fool me, brother," chuckled Jounce. "I 'member when Iris gin yethat rap. She sticks to ye like a burr, pardner, and won't let ye playsweet on the ladies, as you'd like. Kinder mean fur a wife to keep sich asharp eye out fur her lord, but I tell ye, Iris is grit to ther backbone,and she's jealous, too. But I won't tantalize yer, coz 'taint jest; but'sposin' you gin me a little rhino? I'm busted--dead broke; out o' rocks,and wrecked on a lee shore."
The man uttered an imprecation.
"I see that you know me," he finally articulated. "I've fooled a goodmany, but it seems a loving relative can't be deceived. Don't you give meaway, Perry, and I'll have money enough for all of us soon."
"No lying?"
"It's true as preaching"
"What lay are you on?"
"I make no confidants."
"Then you'll rue it mebbe."
"I certainly should if I did. I've got the softest snap but for onething."
"Wal?"
"An infernal man-tracker from Gotham is out here on my lay. He may provetroublesome."
"I've seen him--Sile Keene."
"Yes. Put him off the track, Perry, and I'll make it an object."
Then the hunter laid a gold eagle in the hand of the tramp. An avariciousgleam filled the man's wicked eyes.
"You can count on me, brother."
"Never mind brothering me. I don't want you to trouble me again, youunderstand, until--"
"Till that man-tracker goes under?"
"Exactly."
"You bet I won't."
Then Barkswell moved on his way, and the tramp disappeared in the bushes.
"Ho! So Mr. Andy don't like for me to call him brother," uttered thetramp, gutterally. "Wonder if he's forgot that he married sister Iris. Imust look up the old girl. Mebbe she can do something for me. I'm awarethat she'd be ashamed of me in these togs but I reckin I kin sleek up abit with a part o' this"--clinching the gold-piece as he spoke.
In the meantime Andrew Barkswell made his way to the village, and findingthe village physician, sent him to the cottage of Ransom Vane to attendthe wounded man.
It will be seen that the man in hunter's costume was not August Bordine,although he had deceived Ransom Vane into believing him to be theengineer. It was this close resemblance to Bordine that put a scheme intothe head of a villain.
"I had no idea that I looked so much like somebody else," mused the youngvillain as he rode toward Grandon that night. "I'll profit by this, or Iam a fool. If Iris had only remained away. She's so squeamish, I can't doanything. I really wish an accident would happen to her."
All this happened on the day before the adventures of Mr. Barkswell withthe detective in the guise of a Yankee, already recorded.
We now return to the city.
Silas Keene was not a little puzzled as he found himself clasping thehand of the young man in front of the low saloon.
Was this the same man he had dogged to the house in the suburbs?
He looked like him, and yet there seemed to be a slight difference in thevoice.
The detective was puzzled.
"Where do you stop, Mr. Keene?"
"At the Golden Lion."
"Good hotel; but I would like to have you accompany me home. I would talkof the late crime at Ridgewood. I notice that a large reward has beenoffered for the perpetrator."
"It seems so."
"Of course you will strive to win the reward."
"Certainly."
The two men were now walking away from the vicinity of the saloon.
"This is the hardest part of the city," said Bordine. "It's seldom that Icome this way."
"What called you here to-night?"
The detective was suspicious now of the man, and had his revolverconvenient to his hand.
"Well, simply because I saw a fellow coming this way that I recognized.The man entered that saloon. You see I brood continually over the murderof poor Victoria Vane."
"Yes; that is natural enough."
"Is it? I suppose it's because I was connected with it in such a way."
"You connected with the murder?"
Sile Keene seemed to think his companion was about to make a fullconfession, for he almost stopped in his walk to stare at the face ofBordine.
"I was connected with it, as you will remember. Sometimes I blame myselffor not remaining until her brother returned, and not giving that trampthe opportunity he desired," said Bordine, in a solemn voice.
"So you think it was the tramp that committed the murder?"
The detective asked this question simply for the want of somethingbetter. He was now pretty thoroughly convinced that the real assassinwalked at his side, and that it might be well to arrest him at once,when, if necessary, sufficient evidence could be hunted up afterward.
"I am almost sure of it."
"What motive?"
"Robbery and revenge."
"Indeed."
"Yes. Poor Victoria!"
"See here, Mr. Bordine, what was that girl to you?" demanded thedetective, suddenly and sharply, laying his hand on the arm of hiscompanion.
A dark form dogging their steps--had not been seen by either.
"She was nothing to me, sir."
"A friend?"
"Certainly, and nothing more. If you knew her you will bear me out in thestatement that she was something of a coquette in her way."
"I know nothing about that."
"You hadn't met her in some years perhaps."
"I admit that I had not. See here, Mr
. Bordine, _alias_ Barkswell, we mayas well come to an understanding. I consider you a dangerous man, andpropose to put you in a safe place."
At this moment a ring of cold steel touched the temple of Bordine, whoregarded the detective in silent astonishment.
A revolver was against his temple.
"What does this mean?" demanded Bordine.
"That you are my prisoner, forger and assassin!" hissed Silas Keene.
The next instant a pair of handcuffs were snapped over the youngengineer's wrists.
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