POOR MARY HARRIS.
Go where you will, seek whom you may, converse with all whom you meet,
and you will fail to find a person of either sex, arrived at years of
discretion, whose heart does not conceal a secret. Some have secrets
of love, some secrets of business, while other heart-closets may
conceal the skeleton of a secret crime. Several of our characters have
faithfully retained secrets which, if known, would have long ere this
abruptly terminated our story.
Senator Hamblin suffered intensely by his terrible secret. Fully
conscious that George Alden had committed no crime, to the oft-repeated
inquiries of his daughter concerning the defalcation he evaded direct
answers by saying he believed him innocent, although the sum of five
thousand dollars had mysteriously disappeared. His agency in the
supposed death of George Alden weighed heavily upon him, while the
impending crash in his business affairs was a secret that gave him no
peace of mind.
His daughter possessed two secrets; one of them, her marriage with
George Alden, was faithfully kept from all except those of her own
immediate family. While it was publicly known that she mourned his
death, refusing comfort, none but those mentioned were aware of the
relation she sustained toward the late cashier. Another secret which
she guarded safely was her knowledge of the accusation which she
supposed caused her husband's death.
Fannie Alden was unconscious of the charges made against her brother's
integrity. Had she known the cause of George's disappearance, her
sensitive nature would have received a wound from which she never could
have recovered. Therefore, Belle felt justified in keeping this secret
locked in her breast, although she believed the charges false in every
particular.
Two other persons possessed a secret, over which they cracked many
jokes. Mannis and Sargent often met and talked over the success of their
scheme. The latter, now cashier of the bank, fully felt his importance.
Sargent's thoughts sometimes reverted to the night when, playing the
rôle of body-snatcher, he assisted to disguise a dead body to account
for the absence of the living; and he never felt proud of that night's
work; but when a twinge of conscience disturbed him, he quieted his mind
with the oft-repeated remark:
"Well, a man must look out for his own interests."
Walter Mannis felt little remorse at the part he performed in the
game, for his was a callous conscience, and such little episodes never
disturbed the serenity of his mind. The Congressional nomination was
sought and won by him, thanks to money, and his election was easily
accomplished. Considerable hostility to his nomination was evinced at
first, but when the convention closed its deliberations, there was a
general acquiescence in the result. The candidacy of Daley was too
fresh in the minds of recalcitrant politicians to encourage a repetition
of the "bolting" game. Poor Daley, still an inmate of the asylum, and
with small hope of recovery, left a warning behind.
Senator Hamblin, of late much with Mannis, fell under the influence of
his companion, whose wily tongue and smooth manner again completely won
the Senator's confidence and esteem. The father still entertained hope
that his daughter, recovering from grief occasioned by the death of
George Alden, would ultimately become the wife of his friend.
Mannis soliloquized one day in his room at the Manor, surrounded by
books, letters, and scraps of paper covered with figures:
"My case is desperate," he said, "and something must be done at once,
or I shall be caught napping. The note on which I took the liberty of
endorsing Hamblin's name falls due next Wednesday. By Jove! it must
be got out of the way, dead sure, or there will be trouble. It is for
ten thousand dollars, and if not taken care of at maturity, those city
bankers will make me trouble."
Lighting a cigar and stretching himself in an easy-chair, he watched
the smoke for a moment or two as it curled above his head, and then
continued: "Mannis, you are a cool fellow, and Hamblin falls an easy
prey into your clutches. I feel sorry for him; I wouldn't have his
tender conscience for a fortune. He thinks he murdered Alden--ha! ha!
ha!--a confounded good joke. But supposing the ex-cashier should walk
in some day, with papers and documents, to say nothing of his face,
to prove he is not dead? Wh-e-e-w-w! wouldn't there be a nice old time
in Cleverdale? I only hope he will wait until I secure the girl, whom
I have sworn to marry. Once married to Belle Hamblin, and I am saved;
the old man's fortune can help me out of my trouble, and it must. I
have lately hinted to him again my desire to marry his daughter, and he
takes kindly to the notion. They do say she is inconsolable at Alden's
supposed death; but she will get over that; 'grief cannot kill'--" and
singing the refrain from a popular air, he seemed very happy, for he
resumed:
"See here, old fellow, you are a Congressman, but it will be some time
before you go to Washington, and if you can get a hold there, perhaps
you too can make a strike. All those fellows get rich, and Walter Mannis
will look out for number one. Oh, if I can only capture Belle Hamblin,
and take her to Washington as my wife, what a brilliant couple we will
make, for I flatter myself I am not bad-looking. Ah, Mannis, you are an
egotistical fellow. Egad! But how can you help it? I vow I will go to
Cleverdale to-morrow, see Hamblin, and again urge my suit. What would
the old man think if he knew of that note his name is on! But, pshaw,
he will never know of it. I shall get it out of the way somehow, and at
once."
He was interrupted by a servant entering and handing him a note, which
he hastily tore open. As he read it a shade of anger crossed his
countenance.
"Confound that girl!" he said. "She thinks I will marry her, does she?
She doesn't know me. I must get rid of her some way; but how? That's
the question. Let me think."
Dropping into a chair and passing his hand across his brow, he was
engaged in deep thought for almost ten minutes. Breaking the silence, he
said:
"Well, I must get her away from here, to begin with. This affair
troubles me more than any woman scrape I was ever engaged in. If her
father knew about it there would have to be a new election for a
Congressman to fill my place. It is a bad go, for I certainly have
deceived the girl, and old Harris is a savage fellow, who wouldn't
hesitate to pop the man who betrayed his daughter."
Mannis, for once, was really troubled. He cared little for the misery
he might bring upon others, but he fully realized that his life would
be endangered, did his treatment of Mary Harris reach the ears of her
father. The poor girl had been deceived by a promise of marriage, and
the note Mannis received was an appeal begging him to fulfil his word.
The innocent creature was ignorant of the duplicity of the man she had
trusted, for although many times before he had crushed young lives as
if they were the merest baubles, he had managed to prevent any charges
appearing against him.
For many minutes his nervous agitation was very great. He tried to drive
fear from his mind by reading, but could arouse no interest in his
favorite books, for the fear of Mary Harris haunted him, and he trembled
for his own personal safety.
"This will never do," he suddenly said, "I will go to Cleverdale and
visit the Senator, and then make a pilgrimage to the great Babylon, New
York, where something must turn up to help me out of my troubles."
The same evening found him at Cleverdale, and at a late hour Sargent was
with him at the hotel. The precious couple engaged in a game of cards,
surrounding themselves with clouds of cigar smoke, and drank champagne
as they talked of Alden, and congratulated themselves their plans had
worked so well. And yet each in his heart wondered what had become of
the victim.
"How do you like your place, Sargent?" asked Mannis.
"It is a very good situation, but a man can hardly get rich on the
salary. I'll tell you what it is, Mannis, I have had a notion for
some time that the silver hills of Colorado are the place for me.
Those chaps out there are fast getting rich, while we salaried men,
working infernally hard, can lay up nothing. To-day I read an account
of three young fellows who staked a claim last fall and now they are
millionaires. The excitement is intense, and the lucky chaps have been
offered millions for the claim."
"Who are they, Sargent? Where are they from?" asked Mannis.
"Hanged if I know; but I wish I was one of them. You fellows with
fortunes don't know the hardships we paupers have to undergo; and the
more I think of the matter, the more I believe in the advice, 'Go West,
young man.'"
The two men drank so heavily that before midnight several empty bottles
stood on the side-table, and both were in a very convivial condition,
when Sargent, bidding Mannis good-night, wended his footsteps homeward
in rather uncertain fashion.
The next forenoon Mannis arose with a headache, but did not fail to call
upon Senator Hamblin, whom he found busy, as usual, but glad to meet the
Congressman-elect. After a few moments' conversation, Mannis said:
"I am going to New York, Senator, for a few days' recreation. I have
had the blues lately, and have prescribed for myself a week's sojourn
in the gay city. The metropolis is the celestial city of the world, and
when the pilgrim groans under a burden of blue devils a plunge into the
pool washes away the load, and man comes forth brighter, better, and
happier. The forced seclusion of the country clogs the brain, deadens
the intellect, and makes man's heart heavy as lead."
"You have the blues, Mannis! Why, I supposed you never felt a care
except when a candidate for the people's suffrages."
"But there is greater cause, my friend," and Mannis's voice assumed a
tone of sadness. "When a man sees the dearest object of his life before
him, yet, like Tantalus, putting forth his hand to grasp it, it recedes,
he is unhappy."
"I cannot understand you, Mannis," said the Senator. "You speak in
parables; be more explicit."
"Were I married and quietly settled in life, I should be happy; but the
only woman I ever loved I fear will never be mine. Your daughter, my
friend, could make me supremely content."
Senator Hamblin looked into the face of his companion and replied:
"It would gratify me much if your hopes could be realized. Cheer up and
do not look so despondent. My daughter has been terribly grieved by the
tragic death of her lover, but time will heal her wound. Be patient
awhile longer."
"Ah, my friend, you can easily say that, but could I have the hope
that at some future time she would be mine, I should indeed be happy.
Urge her to receive my attentions. Tell her of my affectionate regard
for her, and if she gives encouragement let me know. Here is a card
containing my New York address. One word from you, and I will be here as
soon as steam can convey me."
He arose to depart, and Senator Hamblin, warmly grasping his hand, said:
"Good-by, Mannis! Keep up a good heart and all may yet be well."
The door closing behind him, Mannis passed into the street, and said to
himself:
"Pretty well played, Mannis, my dear boy. If the old man would only give
me his ducats his pretty daughter might cry her eyes out if she wished."
An hour later he was on the train bound for New York.