Mischievous Maid Faynie

by Laura Jean Libbey

  CHAPTER XIII.

  IN THE TOILS OF THE CONSPIRATORS.

  Lester Armstrong had no sooner stepped to the pavement than he wasaccosted by a man who stepped suddenly up to him.

  "Mr. Armstrong?" he said, interrogatively, touching his hatrespectfully.

  "Yes," responded Lester, "what can I do for you?"

  "I am here on a deed of mercy. A friend of mine, an employee of yours,sir, has met with a serious accident and calls for you repeatedly. I ama hackman, and I volunteered to come for you and ask you to let me takeyou to him. It is not very far. My cab stands right here."

  "I will go to the poor fellow, certainly," responded Lester, hurrying tothe vehicle in question and hastily entering it.

  In a moment the driver had mounted the box and was off like the wind. Itdid not occur to Lester until he was well under way that he had notthought to inquire who the injured man was.

  As the cab rolled swiftly along over the crowded thoroughfare, Lesterleaned back and gave himself up to his own thoughts.

  Wealth had come to him, and with it honors had crowded thick and fastupon him. The world of society held out its arms eagerly to him. Lovelyyoung girls, matrons of the house, offered their congratulations to himwith the most bewitching of smiles, and mothers with marriageabledaughters from all over the city opened an account with the great drygoods house, whose sole owner was a young and handsome bachelor.

  But for all this there seemed to be something sadly missing in his life,a want which he could hardly define, and it seemed to take the shape ofsomething which he was striving to remember, but could not.

  Only that morning he had been talking with some one in the office aboutit, and had been laughingly informed that there was a method that couldbring back to his memory that which he desired so ardently to recollect."If you will tell me how to unravel this tangle that is in my brain, youwill have my everlasting gratitude," declared Lester, earnestly.

  "It takes people with nerves of steel to accomplish it. A person who isnervous to the slightest degree would not dare to try it, for fear ofturning suddenly insane from the terrible mental struggle. Do you stillwish to know what it is?"

  "Yes," responded Lester, "and I can use my judgment whether I dare tryit or not."

  "Very good," replied the gentleman, "then here it is: Counting fivethousand backward will either restore your loss of memory, or, as I havetaken care to warn you gravely in advance, cause you to go insane. Itmust be done rapidly, and in a given space of time. In my belief theremedy is by far worse than the malady. I feel, somehow, as though Iought not to have told you about it."

  "Nonsense," said Lester. "You need have little fear of my trying it."

  He thought of it, however, as the cab rolled rapidly along.

  "I wonder if harm would result from my trying it?" he mused. "I haveunusually strong nerves, and--and, if anything disastrous should come ofit, there is not one soul on the wide earth that would be injured. Thereis no mother to weep, no fair young sister to grieve, no father orbrother to be bowed down with sorrow. I am alone in the world. Myfoolhardiness would injure only myself--only myself."

  He had been thinking so deeply that he had not noted the flight of time,nor that the street lamps had grown fewer and far between, at lastceasing altogether, and that they were traveling a country road.Suddenly the vehicle came to a stop. The driver jumped from his box andopened the door with a jerk, remarking:

  "This is the place."

  Lester alighted, looking about him in a rather mystified manner, butbefore he could make the inquiry that rose to his lips the driverhastened to say:

  "The path that leads to the house, which is just beyond that clump oftrees, is so narrow that we cannot drive there. We will have to walk. Itis but a short distance. You will see the house at the first turn in thepath."

  And as the man uttered the words he gave a peculiar cough.

  "Who is the person who sent for me?" Lester queried, stopping short. Theman made an evasive answer, which aroused his suspicions that all wasnot as it should be.

  "Why do you not answer my question? I refuse to proceed a step fartheruntil you have satisfied me on this point," declared Lester, haughtily.

  "That's your opinion. I think differently, my fine fellow," answered theman insolently. "I'd advise you to come along quietly."

  Lester Armstrong saw at once that he had been lured into a trap. It wasnatural for him to jump to the conclusion that it was for robbery, owingto the fact of his coming into possession of the great Marsh fortune sorecently, and a sudden sternness settled upon his face. He was not usedto broils, but this fellow should see that he was not quite a strangerto the manly art of self-defense, and that he had an adversary worthy ofhis steel.

  "Are you coming along peaceably with me, or shall I be obliged to callupon my pals for assistance?" he asked, grimly.

  "I propose to defend myself against all odds," answered Lester, morethan angry with himself for falling so easily into the trap that hadbeen so cunningly set for him.

  He had but a few dollars in money about him, and the disappointment ofhis assailant in not finding a large roll of bills would in allprobability cause the man to take desperate chances in trying to makeaway with him. If he was armed he was at the fellow's mercy. There mightbe half a dozen accomplices in collusion with him, he had little doubt.

  Again the cabby uttered that peculiar cough which was half a whistle,and in response two men, whose features were covered by black masks,sprang from the adjacent bushes.

  Our hero put up a splendid defense, but the united strength of his threeantagonists at length overpowered him.

  What was there in the figure of one of the men that seemed so familiarto him? he wondered, and just as they were bearing him to the ground bytheir united efforts, he suddenly reached forward and tore the mask fromhis assailant's face.

  One glance, and the horror of death seemed to suddenly freeze the bloodin his veins. His eyes dilated and seemed to nearly burst from theirsockets. The face into which he gazed was that of Clinton Kendale, hiscousin.

  "You!" he gasped, quite disbelieving the evidence of his own senses.

  Kendale laughed a diabolical laugh, while his features were distortedinto those of a fiend incarnate.

  "I haven't the least hesitation in admitting my identity," he said,coolly. "Yes, you are in good hands, if you give us no trouble, and comealong quietly, without compelling us to use further force."

  "What is the meaning of this outrage?" cried Lester, white to the lips.

  "That you shall learn all in good time, cousin mine," replied Kendale,mockingly.

  In struggling out of their grasp to better protect himself, Lester fellheadlong on the icy ground, striking his head heavily against thegnarled, projecting root of a tree and lying at their feet like onedead.

  "He will give us little enough trouble now," said Kendale, grimly. "Lenda hand there, both of you, and get him into the house quickly. I amalmost frozen to death here."

  In less time than it takes to narrate it, Lester Armstrong was hurriedlyconveyed into the house.

  The place consisted of but two rooms, and into the inner one Lester wasthrust with but little ceremony, and tossed upon a pallet of straw inthe corner.

  He had not entirely lost consciousness, as they supposed, but was onlystunned, realizing fully all that was transpiring about him.

  "Your scheme has worked like a charm, Halloran," said Kendale. "We havebagged our game more easily than I imagined we would. Now there isnothing in the way between me and the fortune that liberal old foolMarsh willed to my amiable cousin."

  "Everything rests with the shrewdness with which you play your part,"answered the man addressed as Halloran.

  "You ought not to have any scruples on that score," exclaimed Kendale,boastfully. "After leaving my amiable cousin on the night of theaccident, did I not go immediately to the pretty little heiress, FaynieFairfax, and successfully pass myself off as the lover she was waitingto elope with? And the littl
e beauty never knew the difference."

  "I must own that you played your cards successfully in that direction,"was the response, "but this will be a far different matter fromhoodwinking a young, unsophisticated girl."

  "Within a month from to-day I shall have the Fairfax fortune and theMarsh millions added to it," said Clinton Kendale, emphatically.

  "I would put an eternal quietus upon my fortunate cousin here, did I notneed his assistance in one or two matters concerning the method ofrunning the business, which was known only to old Marsh and himself."

  "Are you fool enough to think that he will divulge those secrets toyou?" said Halloran, impatiently.

  "They can be forced from him. I know how," returned Kendale, with abrutal laugh. "Come," he said, turning on his heel.

  His companion followed him from the apartment, and the door closed witha resounding bang, and Lester lay there too horror-stricken to move handor foot, fairly spellbound by the disclosures he had overheard as theystood over him, believing him unconscious.

  All in an instant a great wave of awakened memory swept over him,opening out the flood-gates of recollection like a flash. He rememberedhis interview with his sweetheart, his darling Faynie, and how he wasarranging to hurry back to marry her when the fatal accident occurred,and how, believing himself dying, he had confided all to his treacherouscousin, bidding him take the message to his darling, that even in deathhis only thought was of her.

  Oh, merciful God! how horribly had his treacherous cousin betrayed thatsacred trust, because of his fatal resemblance to himself! He cried outto God and the listening angels:

  "Heaven help my beautiful darling and save her from the machinations ofthat desperate villain!"

  He knew that Clinton Kendale would stop at nothing to gain his end, andhis agony at the thought that he might be unable to prevent it in timealmost drove him to the verge of madness.

  He felt that they would hold him there until they tortured from himwhatever secret he held which they wished to learn; then they woulddeliberately make away with him. Clinton Kendale would step into hisplace, personating himself so cleverly that the great world, under whosevery eyes the terrible tragedy had taken place, would never know thedifference. Even Faynie would not know how she had been tricked andcheated, and the last thought almost drove him to the point of frenzy,nearly succeeding in turning his tortured brain.