MURDERED!
As I came through the Valley of Despair--
As I came through the valley, on my sight,
More awful than the darkness of the night,
Shone glimpses of a past that had been fair.
E. W. W.
When Kathleen had thanked Mr. Golden for his ready kindness, and
gratefully accepted the check, she hastened to the bank, on the next
block, and had it cashed in some large and a few bills of smaller
denomination. She had left Cabby waiting for her in front of the
jewelers, telling him that as soon as she returned from the bank she
wanted him to drive her to the station, to take the first train for the
South.
Accordingly, she returned in a few minutes and sprung into the cab,
little dreaming that she was watched and followed by the tall, blonde
young man who had recognized her when she had alighted at Golden &
Glitter's, and followed her into the store.
He had secured a cab for himself, and was following fast upon her track.
"Now, what is up with the heiress? Must be an elopement. Egad! Alpine
told me she was in love with a handsome actor, and that the _mater_
was going to take her back to school to save her for me. Deuce take
her! I don't want her, only for the money she'll get from old Carew.
I was always afraid of those snapping black eyes of hers. I'd rather
have that little blue-eyed New York ballet dancer of mine, in spite of
her extravagance. A thousand dollars--a cool thousand! That's what the
little minx wants me to give her now, or----But I won't think of that;
it makes me savage. A thousand dollars! That's what Kathleen Carew has
in her purse this moment, besides the diamond on her finger, and her
ear-rings--real diamonds inside the little gold balls she wears snapped
over them in daytime. I wish I had 'em for my little duck! Wouldn't she
be sweet with great sparklers in her pink ears! And to think that the
_mater_ refused me the check I begged her for this morning, and she
rolling in old Carew's money, while her only son could not keep up any
style at all only for gambling!" ran the tenor of his thoughts, as he
pursued hapless Kathleen to the station, making up his mind that she
was about to elope, and grimly determining that she should purchase
his silence with her money and jewels. "And cheap getting off like
that, when I might take her back to mother and keep her for myself.
Egad! maybe the actor will pay me something on his own account; d--n
the lucky rascal!" he muttered.
To his amazement, no person met Kathleen at the station. She bought her
ticket alone, and entered the parlor car of the vestibule train going
South.
"To Richmond, hey? Running away alone, and to those poor relations of
hers, I'll be bound. No chance, then, of getting any of her boodle
for my dearie. She will need it all, for they say the Franklyns, her
mother's relations, are poor as Job's turkey hen. Well, I'll follow,
and we'll see if anything turns up to my advantage;" and, buying a
ticket as far as Philadelphia, he entered the train, after first
disguising himself by taking from his hand satchel and putting on a
dark wig and dark, heavy whiskers.
The train rushed on and on through the land; but Kathleen, sobbing
under her veil, took no heed of time. Day passed, and it was far into
the night. The train rushed into a lonely woodland station, snorted and
stopped, while the conductor shouted:
"Passengers for the South change cars here!"
Kathleen and a single gentleman seemed the only Southern passengers.
They groped their way out into the darkness of the starless night.
The other train was waiting on the other side of a small wooden
depot. Kathleen, confused by the strangeness and darkness, staggered
shiveringly forward on the muddy path, alone, and frightened at the
solitude.
A stealthy step behind her, two throttling hands at her throat
smothering her startled cry. She was thrown violently down, the jewels
wrenched from her hands and ears, the purse from her dress; then the
black-hearted murderer fled toward the waiting train, leaving his
victim for dead upon the ground.