“LOOK TO IT.”
Half crouching, half lying among the tall grass just outside the circle
of arbor vitæ, was a large, swarthy-looking man, his eyes and mouth
agape with astonishment at the wondrous story he had just heard
rehearsed.
A close observer might have noticed his paleness and agitation.
Evidently something in the tale had moved him deeply, for great beads of
perspiration stood on his forehead, from which his cap was pushed back,
and the hand he raised to wipe his brow shook like a reed.
He might have been a fine-looking man, for his face was highly
intelligent in expression, and his form was tall, straight, and well
developed. But clad in his soiled and much-worn garments, with face
deeply bronzed, locks uncombed, and beard unshaven, he was but a
sorry-looking object. There was a roughness about him, too, and a
fierceness in the gaze of his eye as he looked upon the terror-stricken
squire, which were enough in themselves, coming as he did unexpectedly
upon him, to drive the color from his face and lips.
The stranger was the first to recover his self-possession, and assuming
a sneering, half defiant air, while at the same time he seemed to enjoy
Squire Moulton’s fright, said:
“Well, squire, I must say she’s a pretty spunky sort of a woman, that
sister of yourn!”
“Who are you—how long have you been here—did you hear——” incoherently
gasped the startled villain.
“I heard every word!” interrupted his visitor, with an air of triumph.
“That answers two of your questions, I believe; but the other I do not
know as I feel inclined to reply to just at present.”
“How came you here?” demanded Squire Moulton, beginning to recover
himself somewhat, and angry at the insolent manner of the other.
“Well, if you must know just how I came, I rode part of the way, and
walked t’other part.”
There was a sly twinkle in his eye, and a sarcastic smile lurking in the
corners of his mouth.
“What was your object in prowling around my grounds, and listening to
conversation which did not concern you!”
The schemer’s voice was more friendly now, for he felt he was in the
man’s power, and it would be better to temporize with him than to
threaten him, though in his heart he wished he could strike him dead at
his feet.
“Well, squire, I don’t know as I object to telling you that that woman
has been prowling around here, too, for several days. I’ve sort o’ had
my eyes on her, and I thought I’d find out what she was up to. As to its
being no concern of mine, perhaps ’tis, and then again perhaps it isn’t.
Anyway, I rather think she’s got a little the best of you, hain’t she,
squire!—that is,” he added slyly, “unless you can get hold o’ them
pictures. Handsome man, that! Seems to me I’ve seen him somewhere before
now.”
“The duse take it!” muttered the squire, uneasily. “I would give a good
deal if I had them in my possession.”
“Would you, really?” asked the other, a sudden idea seeming to strike
him. “Well, what would you give a feller to get them for you?”
“Ah!” said Squire Moulton, starting, and eying his strange companion
closely. “I would give a hundred dollars—fifty on the spot, and fifty
more when they are in my possession.”
“By golly, I’m your man, then! Fork over, and call it a job!”
The strange man sprang eagerly to his feet, evidently anxious to have
his services engaged.
“But,” returned the other, hesitating, “I don’t know anything about you.
How do I know but you will make off with the money I give you, and never
show yourself again? What is your name?”
“Well, I am a stranger in these parts, so I guess you won’t be able to
find out much about me, except what I choose to tell you myself. I go by
the name of Ronald Edgerton—a pretty good sounding one, I think, too.
And as to my making off with your money, you’ll have to take me on
trust, I guess, as I’ve nobody to back me.”
“Where did you come from?” asked the squire, wishing he could strike the
man, for his cool insolence exasperated him beyond measure.
“Well, I came from the city out here; but I hail from California.”
“California!” repeated the squire, with a gasp. “What part of the
State?”
“The diggins! Mighty poor diggins they were, too, for me, so I thought
I’d better dig for somewhere else. But what do you say, squire—is it a
trade that I go for the pictures?”
“I don’t know,” muttered the perplexed man, less and less inclined to
trust the stranger.
“Better,” replied Ronald Edgerton, laconically.
“Why?” demanded Squire Moulton, sharply.
“Well”—continuing to use what seemed to be a favorite word with
him—“well, I’ve gained some pretty valuable information to-day, you
know, and if I can’t make a trade with you, why, I shall be under the
necessity of doing so with some one else!”
“Oh! you threaten me, do you?”
“Not at all, squire—not at all; only a feller must get a living some way
or other.”
“What do you do generally for a living?”
“Well, most anything that turns up; sometimes this and sometimes that.”
Squire Moulton was in despair. He could get nothing whatever out of the
man. He was too much for even his sharp villainy to fathom, and no
cross-questioning could catch him. He did not like his appearance at
all. Sometimes he spoke like a gentleman, and sometimes like a rough,
ignorant fellow. He was a puzzle, which it was beyond his power and wit
to solve. It would have pleased him better had there been more of the
decided rascal about him. But the man had evidently listened to the
whole of the conversation he had had with his sister, and he was in his
power. All his dearest secrets were now in the possession of this cool,
insolent man who called himself Ronald Edgerton; and he cursed himself
again and again for having allowed himself to breathe them in the open
air. But it was of no use now, to waste time in vain repinings, and he
resolved to do the best he could by making an ally of the man.
“I’ll tell you what I will do, Edgerton,” he said, at length, assuming a
friendly air, at the same time drawing forth his purse. “I will hire you
to do such little odd jobs as these, if you like, and pay you well for
them, too. You shall have the fifty dollars now, and the remainder when
you bring me the pictures, then I shall have something else on the
docket, I have no doubt.”
“That’s it; now you talk to the point! Thank’ee, sir,” he said, as he
took the money.
“You will not fail me now—I may depend upon you?”
“Depend upon me, that you may. If it’s in the power of man, I’ll have
that breastpin before many days. I guess I’ll be traveling now,” he
said, as he put the bill out of sight; “but you will see me again soon.
Good-day, sir.”
He touched his slouch cap politely to the squire, and turning, was
quickly lost to view.
For some moments Squire Moulton stood lost in deep thought. He could not
trust the man fully, try as he would. But he was where he could not help
himself, and so resolved to make the best of the matter.
Ronald Edgerton walked briskly in the direction of the city, for half a
mile, when he came upon a horse tied to a tree. He quickly unhitched the
animal, and leaping into the saddle, trotted swiftly away. It was
getting dark, and he spurred his horse onward, looking anxiously at
every object he passed. Soon his eye brightened, for he caught sight of
a familiar figure hurrying in the same direction with himself. He now
slackened his speed, in order to keep the figure in view, but did not
follow so closely as to be himself discovered.
They entered the city, and he rode nearer to Rose Moulton, for she it
was whom he was watching.
She had walked swiftly after fleeing from her brother’s grounds, in
order to gain her lodgings before night came on; but her now lagging
gait told that she was foot-sore and weary. Once she stopped and leaned
against a lamp-post, but having a faint sigh, she soon started on again.
She had not proceeded far before, uttering a deep cry, she fell
stumbling upon the rough pavement.
Quick as thought the horseman sprang to the ground, and before other
assistance was offered, he had tenderly raised her in his arms. He bent
an anxious look upon her face, and placed his hand upon her heart. She
had only fainted from weariness; and hastily calling a cab he placed her
within, and giving the name and number of the street, to which he wished
to be driven, he then followed.
Seating himself, he took the insensible woman’s head in his lap,
smoothed back with a gentle hand the heavy masses of her tangled hair;
and once he heaved a long, quivering sigh, and murmured—“Poor Rose!”
But this weakness soon passed, and he began searching earnestly for the
hidden treasure. Not many moments passed ere he held it in his hand. He
thrust it within his own bosom, and then hastily rolling the
fifty-dollar note which he had received from the squire in a piece of
paper, he put it in place of the stolen brooch.
He had barely completed these operations when the carriage stopped.
Quickly gathering the woman, who was beginning now to revive, in his
arms, he bore her into the house before which they had stopped, and left
her in the care of the kind-hearted lady.
The next day Edgerton, completely transformed by rich and handsome
apparel, looking what he was in reality—every inch a gentleman—entered
one of the first jewelry establishments in the city, and ordered a
brooch to be made exactly like the one he had with him. When it was
completed he took the two to an artist, had the pictures copied and the
copies put into the new ones, and in just one week from the day on which
he made the bargain with the squire, he was back again to report his
success.
It was evening when he arrived, and he was shown into the library where
the old man was sitting.
It was a damp, chilly evening, and there was a glowing fire in the
grate, which rendered the room cheerful and inviting.
“Well, squire,” remarked Edgerton on entering, “you see taking a feller
on trust ain’t so bad after all. Here I am back again, and with the
plunder safe and sound in my pocket!”
“Really, Mr. Edgerton, I am surprised that you should have been so
expeditious,” replied Squire Moulton, a flash of joy lighting up his
wrinkled face. “Where are they?” he continued, eagerly.
“Here,” replied Edgerton, and handed him the brooch which he had had
made.
He took it, and opening each lid, convinced himself that they were
really the pictures of the faces he wished to possess, then shutting
them with a snap, he uttered an oath and cast them into the blazing
grate.
“Zounds!” exclaimed his ally, springing from his chair as if to save the
doomed jewel; then drawing in a deep breath, he sank back again,
inwardly congratulating himself that it was only the copy, and not the
original.
“There!” said Squire Moulton, with an evil smile. “Those infernal
pictures will never trouble anybody again.”
“That is true, sir,” replied Edgerton, returning the smile tenfold, and
speaking with marked emphasis. “Now,” he continued, “if you’ll hand over
the cash, squire, I’ll go.”
“Oh! but you have not told me how you gained possession of the brooch
yet.”
“Well,” laughed the other, “I was not aware it was in the bargain for me
to reveal all my slight-of-hand performances, though it was easy enough
done. You see I had my eye on the woman, and one day she fainted in the
street, and I very humanely went to her assistance; a little maneuvering
and the thing was mine.”
“Where does she live?” asked the squire, scowling darkly.
“Couldn’t say just now, squire; but perhaps I can find out,” replied
Edgerton, with a sly glance at the dark face before him.
“Well, at all events, you have earned your hundred dollars easily
enough.”
He handed him the other fifty as he spoke.
“Just keep your eye open, and report occasionally, and you shall be well
paid for it.”
“All right; and now I will say good-evening to you, sir. It is some
distance back to the city, and it is getting late.”
Ronald Edgerton passed out into the night, leaving Squire Moulton to
indulge in more pleasing reflections than he had enjoyed this many a
day.
“Ah!” muttered Edgerton, “you little know, my worthy squire, with whom
you are dealing. I shall study this game pretty thoroughly. Your
instinct is finer than your honor, you fool, for you did not like to
trust me; but you were in rather a tight place, and I warn you to look
to it, that some day you are not in a tighter one.”