"SOME TERRIBLE PRESENTIMENT IS WARNING ME THAT MY DARLING IS IN DANGER."
There never was a night so long that another day did not dawn--at
last--and when the morrow's light broke, Halloran was slowly but surely
collapsing--giving himself up to the horrible doom that awaited him--for
the bear had not quitted his position under the tree, nor had he taken
his eyes off his intended victim for a single moment.
As the sun rose, Halloran watched it with dazed, bloodshot eyes,
exclaiming:
"Good-by, golden sun, I shall never see you set, nor witness you rise
again upon another day. I--" the sentence was never finished, for over
the snowy waste rang a voice like a bugle blast:
"Keep quiet, take heart, help is at hand; I am going to shoot the animal
and deliver you," and simultaneously with the voice four shots in rapid
succession rang out upon the early morning air.
There was a wild howl of pain, a terrible roaring bellow, a sudden dash
toward a dark figure hurriedly approaching, two more shots, and the bear
rolled over dying beyond power to harm, his red blood dyeing the white
snow in great pools. Halloran knew no more. His strength and endurance
seemed suddenly to leave him, darkness closed in about him, his hold
loosened and he fell backward down, down through space.
He did not know that a pair of strong arms caught him, thus saving him
from a broken neck. When he opened his eyes a few moments later, to his
intense surprise he found Lester Armstrong bending over him, and the
sight rendered him fairly dumb with amazement.
Before he could ask questions that sprang to his lips, Lester explained
to him that owing to the dampness of the place, the fire Halloran had
kindled had quickly gone out, thus saving the young man from being
burned to death. He told him, too, why death had not come to him through
starvation, as had been intended, and that it had taken him all that
time to force apart the links of the chain, when he found that there was
no one to hear or prevent, no matter how much noise he made in so doing.
He had seen the revolver, which had been forgotten, and little imagining
it would be of such vital use, had thrust it in his pocket and started
forth to make his way back to New York, when he unexpectedly came upon
the scene of the bear under the tree, and a fellow-being in deadly
peril.
"You saved me--me," cried Halloran, huskily, "your deadly foe, who
tried to rob you of your life."
"It was my duty, 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,'" quoted Lester,
quietly.
Halloran fell on his knees, covering the other's hands with passionate
kisses, tears falling like rain from his eyes.
"From this hour the life that you have saved shall be devoted to
you--and God!" he cried brokenly. "Oh, will Heaven ever forgive me for
the past? There are two bullets left in the revolver; you ought to shoot
me dead at your feet, Lester Armstrong. I deserve it."
Lester shook his head.
"Do better with your life than you have done in the past," he said.
Halloran tried to rise to his feet, but fell back exhausted on the snow.
"I cannot walk," he gasped. "I--I am sure my limbs are frozen."
With a humane kindness that won him Halloran's gratitude to his dying
day, Lester helped him to the railway station, and to board the incoming
train, taking him to a hospital when they reached New York City.
Halloran had lapsed into unconsciousness, but Lester was too kind of
heart to desert him in his hour of need.
The clock was striking five as Lester left the hospital.
On the pavement he paused, asking himself if he could go to a hotel
presenting that soiled, unkempt appearance. Then like an inspiration it
occurred to him that the best place in the world to go to was Mr.
Conway's; and he put the thought into execution at once, reaching there
nearly an hour later.
Mr. Conway and Margery were just sitting down to breakfast as he rang
the bell of the humble little cottage.
Mr. Conway answered the summons.
The scene which followed can better be imagined than described.
It was hard to convince father and daughter, at first, that in telling
his story he was not attempting to play some practical joke upon them.
That he had a cousin who so cleverly resembled him that even those who
had known Lester intimately for long years should be so cleverly
deceived by him seemed almost incredible. Margery hid her face in her
trembling hands while her father gave Lester a full account of what had
transpired, while the latter's emotion was great; and his distress
intense, upon learning that Kendale had dared betroth himself to Margery
in his name, and that the gentle-hearted girl had learned to care for
the scamp, despite her repugnance to him at first.
Lester thought it best, under the circumstances, to confide in full to
Margery and her father concerning his own love affair, lest they might
expect him to carry out the contract his cousin had made in regard to
marrying his old friend's pretty daughter.
Margery's next words, however, set his troubled heart at rest in that
respect.
She looked up at him suddenly through her tears, saying shyly:
"There is another who cares for me, not knowing of this affair, one whom
I once thought I could love. Yesterday he wrote me a letter, asking for
my heart and hand.
"Last night I wrote him a reply, saying 'No,' and telling him why. I
shall destroy that letter to-night, thankful enough that I did not have
time to send it. And my answer will then be 'Yes.'"
"You have my best wishes for your happiness, little Margery," said
Lester, adding smilingly: "And when; the wedding occurs, which I hope
will be soon, you may, expect a very handsome present from me."
Long after Mr. Conway and his unexpected visitor had finished their
simple breakfast, they talked over the strange situation of affairs, and
what was best to be done to avoid great publicity.
"The bogus Lester Armstrong went to Beechwood last night," said the old
cashier. "He probably will remain there, as is his custom, until to-day
noon. You had better confront him there; meanwhile I will break the
amazing story to those of the establishment whom it is absolutely
necessary to tell. The rest of the employees and the public at large
need never know of the glaring fraud that was so cleverly practised
under their very eyes."
Lester had sprung to his feet trembling with excitement, at the
information that Kendale had gone to the home of Faynie, despite the
fact that Mr. Conway had assured him that Kendale was not married.
"Only yesterday he told me he contemplated marriage with a little
heiress out at Beechwood, and if his wooing went on smoothly he would be
a benedict in a few days' time--those were his exact words!" declared
Mr. Conway.
"Thank Heaven the mischief has not yet been done," cried Lester,
fervently.
He would have started for Beechwood at once, had it not been for Mr.
Conway, who induced him to lie down for a few hours and take a little
much-needed rest, explaining that he could not go in that apparel, and
it would take some little time to secure suitable raiment, and renovate
his appearance.
Lester yielded to his judgment.
Neither Mr. Conway nor Margery had the heart to awaken him, as hour
after hour rolled by; he seemed so thoroughly exhausted and his deep
sleep was doing him such a world of good, although the complete outfit
which Mr. Conway had sent for had long since arrived.
It was night when Lester opened his eyes--imagining his surroundings for
the moment but the idle vagaries of a dream.
Mr. Conway's kindly, solicitous face bending over him soon brought him
to his senses, and a remembrance of all that had occurred.
"Oh, Mr. Conway! You should not have let me sleep," he cried. "I ought
to have been at Beechwood hours ago; something in my heart--some
terrible presentiment is warning me that my darling is in danger!"
"You are only fanciful," returned his old friend. "Anxiety makes you
imagine that."
"I hope it may prove as you say," replied Lester, huskily, and in an
hour's time he was on his way to Beechwood and Faynie.