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THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
by Author of "The Devils Own," "Beyond the Frontier," "When Wilderness Was King," Etc. A. L. Burt Company Publishers New York Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company Copyright, 1918, by Randall Parrish Printed in the United States of America...
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THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
For the second time that night Frederick Cavendish, sitting at a small table in a busy café where the night life of the city streamed continually in and out, regarded the telegram spread out upon the white napery. It read: Bear Creek, Colorado, 4/2/15. FREDERICK CAVENDISH, College Club, New York City. Found big lead; lost it again. Need you badly. For the second time that night, too, a picture rose before him, a picture of great plains, towering mountains, and open spaces that spoke the fr
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CHAPTER II: THE BODY ON THE FLOOR
CHAPTER II: THE BODY ON THE FLOOR
The early light of dawn stealing in faintly through the spider-web of the fire-escape ladder, found a partially open window on the third floor of the Waldron apartments, and began slowly to brighten the walls of the room within. There were no curtains on this window as upon the others, and the growing radiance streamed in revealing the whole interior. It was a large apartment, furnished soberly and in excellent taste as either lounging-room or library, the carpet a dark green, the walls delicate
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CHAPTER III: MR. ENRIGHT DECLARES HIMSELF
CHAPTER III: MR. ENRIGHT DECLARES HIMSELF
One month after the Cavendish murder and two days after he had despatched a casual, courteous note to John Cavendish requesting that he call, Mr. Patrick Enright, of Enright and Dougherty, sat in his private office on the top floor of the Collander Building in Cortlandt Street waiting for the youth's appearance. Since young Cavendish had consulted him before in minor matters, Mr. Enright had expected that he would call voluntarily soon after the murder, but in this he was disappointed. Realising
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CHAPTER IV: A BREATH OF SUSPICION
CHAPTER IV: A BREATH OF SUSPICION
As Francois Valois trudged along the night streets toward his rooming house his heart was plunged in sorrow and suspicion. To be discharged from a comfortable position for no apparent reason when one contemplated no sweet alliance was bad enough, but to be discharged when one planned marriage to so charming a creature as Josette La Baum was nothing short of a blow. Josette herself had admitted that and promptly turned Francois's hazards as to young Cavendish's motives into smouldering suspicion,
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CHAPTER V: ON THE TRACK OF A CRIME
CHAPTER V: ON THE TRACK OF A CRIME
In the city room of the Star , Farriss, the city editor, sat back in his swivel chair smoking a farewell pipe preparatory to going home. The final edition had been put to bed, the wires were quiet, and as he sat there Farriss was thinking of plunging "muskies" in Maine streams. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a clatter of footsteps, and, slapping his feet to the floor, he turned to confront Willis and Miss Donovan. "Great God!" he started, at their appearance at so late an hour. Miss D
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CHAPTER VI: AT STEINWAY'S
CHAPTER VI: AT STEINWAY'S
It was the second night after Farriss had given them his instructions that Miss Donovan and Willis, sitting in the last darkened booth in Steinway's Café, were rewarded for their vigil. The booth they occupied was selected for the reason that it immediately joined that into which Willis had but three days before seen Cavendish and the La Rue woman enter, and now as they sat toying with their food, their eyes commanding the entire room, they saw a woman swing into the café entrance and enter the
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CHAPTER VII: MISS DONOVAN ARRIVES
CHAPTER VII: MISS DONOVAN ARRIVES
When the long overland train paused a moment before the ancient box car that served as the depot for the town of Haskell, nestled in the gulch half a mile away, it deposited Miss Stella Donovan almost in the arms of Carson, the station-agent, and he, wary of the wiles of women and the ethics of society, promptly turned her over to Jim Westcott, who had come down to inquire if the station-agent held a telegram for him—a telegram that he expected from the East. "She oughtn't to hike to the Timmons
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CHAPTER VIII: A GANG OF ENEMIES
CHAPTER VIII: A GANG OF ENEMIES
The miner waited, leaning against the desk. His eyes had followed the slender figure moving after the rotund Timmons up the uncarpeted stairs until it had vanished amid the shadows of the second story. He smiled quietly in imagination of her first astonished view of the interior of room eighteen, and recalled to mind a vivid picture of its adornments—the bare wood walls, the springless bed, the crack-nosed pitcher standing disconsolate in a blue wash-basin of tin; the little round mirror in a on
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CHAPTER IX: A NIGHT AND A MORNING
CHAPTER IX: A NIGHT AND A MORNING
Stella Donovan never forgot the miseries of her first night in Haskell. When old man Timmons finally left her, after placing the flaring lamp on a chair, and went pattering back down the bare hall, she glanced shudderingly about at her unpleasant surroundings, none too pleased with the turn of events. The room was scarcely large enough to contain the few articles of furniture absolutely required. Its walls were of unplaned plank occasionally failing to meet, and the only covering to the floor wa
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CHAPTER X: AT A NEW ANGLE
CHAPTER X: AT A NEW ANGLE
The knowledge that she was thus being spied upon gave the girl a sudden thrill, but not of fear. Instead it served to strengthen her resolve. There had been nothing in her valise to show who she really was, or why she was in Haskell, and consequently, if any vague suspicion had been aroused as to her presence in that community, the searchers had discovered no proof by this rifling of her bag. She examined the room thoroughly, and glanced out into the still, deserted hall before bolting the door.
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CHAPTER XI: DEAD OR ALIVE
CHAPTER XI: DEAD OR ALIVE
Before Westcott finished his meal his mood had changed to tolerant amusement. That the girl had deliberately deceived him was plain, enough, revealed now in both her manner and words. What her true purpose might have been in apparently seeking his friendship at first could not now be conjectured—indeed, made little difference—but it was clear enough she really belonged to the Lacy crowd, and had no more use for him. Westcott was sorry for the turn things had taken; he made no attempt to disguise
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CHAPTER XII: VIEWED FROM BOTH SIDES
CHAPTER XII: VIEWED FROM BOTH SIDES
The team trotted on to the bridge, and then slowed down to a walk. Above the dull reverberation of hoofs the listeners below could hear the sound of voices, and an echo of rather forced laughter. Then the carriage emerged into full view. Beside the driver it contained three passengers—Beaton on the front seat, his face turned backward toward the two behind, a man and a woman. Westcott and Miss Donovan, peering through the screen of leaves, caught only a swift glimpse of their faces—the man middl
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CHAPTER XIII: THE SHOT OF DEATH
CHAPTER XIII: THE SHOT OF DEATH
Westcott's purpose in visiting the La Rosita mine was a rather vague one. His thought had naturally associated Bill Lacy with whatever form of deviltry had brought Beaton to the neighbourhood of Haskell, and he felt convinced firmly that this special brand of deviltry had some direct connection with the disappearance of Frederick Cavendish. Just what the connection between these people might prove to be was still a matter of doubt, but as Miss Donovan was seeking this information at the hotel, a
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CHAPTER XIV: LACY LEARNS THE TRUTH
CHAPTER XIV: LACY LEARNS THE TRUTH
Westcott straightened the body out, crossing the dead hands, and covered the face with a blanket stripped from a bunk. The brief burst of flame died down, leaving the room in semi-darkness. The miner was conscious only of a feeling of dull rage, a desire for revenge. The shot had been clearly intended for himself. The killing of José had been a mere accident. In all probability the murderer had crept away believing he had succeeded in his purpose. If he had lingered long enough to see any one em
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CHAPTER XV: MISS LA RUE PAYS A CALL
CHAPTER XV: MISS LA RUE PAYS A CALL
Some slight noise caused Westcott to straighten up, and turn partially around. He had barely time to fling up one arm in the warding off of a blow. The next instant was one of mad, desperate struggle, in which he realised only that he dare not relax his grip on the wrist of his unknown antagonist. It was a fierce, intense grapple, every muscle strained to the utmost, silent except for the stamping of feet, deadly in purpose. The knife fell from the cramped fingers, but the fellow struggled like
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CHAPTER XVI: CAPTURED
CHAPTER XVI: CAPTURED
Her first thought was to search elsewhere, although she immediately realised the uselessness of any such attempt. The message had been in her pocket as she recalled distinctly; she had fully intended destroying it at the same time she had torn up the letter of instruction, but failed to do so. Now it was in the hands of the La Rue woman, and would be shown to the others. Stella blew out the light and sat down by the open window endeavouring to figure out what all this would mean. It was some tim
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CHAPTER XVII: IN THE SHOSHONE DESERT
CHAPTER XVII: IN THE SHOSHONE DESERT
Her guard spoke no word as the wagon rolled slowly onward, but she judged that he leaned back against the bow supporting the canvas in an effort to make himself as comfortable as possible. She could see nothing of the fellow in the darkness, but had formed an impression that he was of medium size, his face covered with a scraggly beard. The driver sat bundled up in formless perspective against the line of sky, but she knew from his voice that he was the man who had first accosted her. In small m
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CHAPTER XVIII: IN MEXICAN POWER
CHAPTER XVIII: IN MEXICAN POWER
The passage was so narrow, and so diversified by sharp turns, that Miss Donovan, shut in behind the closed cover, could perceive little of its nature. Apparently the ravine was a mere gash in the surface of the desert plain, to be originally discovered purely through accident. One might pass a hundred yards to either side, and never realise its existence, the hard rock, covered by a thin layer of sand, retaining no trace of wheel-marks in guidance. How Moore had ever driven so unerringly to the
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CHAPTER XIX: WESTCOTT FINDS HIMSELF ALONE
CHAPTER XIX: WESTCOTT FINDS HIMSELF ALONE
It never occurred to Westcott on his escape through the darkness that his night's adventure would in any way endanger Miss Donovan. He was on the property of La Rosita Mining Company upon his own account, and not in reference to the Cavendish Case at all—or, at least, this last was merely incidental. To be sure he had listened to a confession from Enright bearing directly upon the affair in New York, a confession so strange he could scarcely grasp its true meaning. But this never brought to his
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CHAPTER XX: TO COMPEL AN ANSWER
CHAPTER XX: TO COMPEL AN ANSWER
Although feeling the need of food, Westcott entered the dining-room of the Timmons' House more desirous of being alone than for any other purpose. He realised that he was suddenly brought face to face with a most serious condition, and one which must be solved unaided. He dare not venture upon a single step forward until he had first thought out carefully the entire course to be followed. Two lives, and perhaps three, including his own, were now in imminent peril, and any mistake on his part wou
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CHAPTER XXI: THE MARSHAL PLAYS A HAND
CHAPTER XXI: THE MARSHAL PLAYS A HAND
Neither man had anticipated this; neither had the slightest conception that any suspicion of this kind pointed at them. The direct question was like the sudden explosion of a bomb. What did Westcott know? How had he discovered their participation in the affair? The fact that Westcott unhesitatingly connected Matt Moore with the abduction was in itself alone sufficient evidence that he based his inquiry on actual knowledge. Enright had totally lost power of speech, positive terror plainly depicte
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CHAPTER XXII: THE ROCK IN THE STREAM
CHAPTER XXII: THE ROCK IN THE STREAM
Westcott was sensible now of a feeling of intense exhaustion. The fierce fighting in the room behind the saloon; the excitement of the attempt to escape; the chase, ending with the plunge through the stream had left him pitifully weak. He could perceive his hand tremble as he handed over the cartridge belt. The marshal noticed it also, and cast a swift glance into the other's face. "About all in, Jim?" he inquired understandingly. "Little out of your usual line, I reckon. Take a bit o' rest thar
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CHAPTER XXIII: THE ESCAPE
CHAPTER XXIII: THE ESCAPE
The afternoon wore away slowly, the two men realising more and more clearly the nature of the siege. Their only safety lay in the protection of the rocks, as they were now entirely surrounded, and fired upon from either bank the moment either raised a head. No attempt was made, however, to assault their position, nor did they often return the fire, desiring to preserve for future use their small supply of ammunition. Brennan remained watchful, but silent, brooding over his plans for the night, b
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CHAPTER XXIV: THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF
CHAPTER XXIV: THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF
Dazed, helpless, yet continuing to struggle futilely, Stella realised little except giving a glance at the hated faces of her captors. She heard Cateras's voice ordering the men forward, vibrant with Spanish oaths, and trembling yet with the fury which possessed him—but all else was a dim haze, out of which few remembrances ever came. They were in a large room, opening into another behind, a heavy door between. She was dragged forward, and thrust through this with no knowledge of what it was lik
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CHAPTER XXV: IN THE DARK PASSAGE
CHAPTER XXV: IN THE DARK PASSAGE
The uncertainty was of scarcely an instant. The open slit above the door was a perfect conveyer of sound, and a voice pierced the silence. It was the voice of Juan Cateras, vibrant with anger. "You sleepy swine," he ejaculated fiercely, "and is this the way you keep watch? Come out of that!" the command punctuated by the scuffling of feet. "Damn you, Silva, but I will teach you a lesson for this when I return. Now go to the hut and stay there until I come. This is a matter where Mendez shall nam
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CHAPTER XXVI: THE REAPPEARANCE OF CAVENDISH
CHAPTER XXVI: THE REAPPEARANCE OF CAVENDISH
As her eyes became more accustomed to the light she saw that the stranger was a man of approximately thirty, of good robust health. His hair was sandy of colour and thin, and his beard, which was of the same hue, had evidently gone untrimmed for days, perhaps weeks; yet for all of his unkempt appearance, for all the strangeness of his presence there, he was a gentleman, that was plain. And as she scrutinised him Miss Donovan thought she beheld a mild similarity in the contour of the man's head,
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CHAPTER XXVII: A DANGEROUS PRISONER
CHAPTER XXVII: A DANGEROUS PRISONER
He was tall and thin, wearing a wide cloak about his shoulders, and high hat with broad brim. Even at that distance it could be seen that his long hair was grey, and that a heavy moustache, snow-white, made more noticeable the thin features of his face. The man was Mexican, no doubt of that, but of the higher class, the dead pallor of his skin accented by the black, deep-seated eyes. He looked at the two men closely, and his voice easily reached the ears of the listeners. "Who posted you here?"
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CHAPTER XXVIII: WITH BACK TO THE WALL
CHAPTER XXVIII: WITH BACK TO THE WALL
It was dingy dark once she had crossed the threshold, yet enough of light flickered in through the doorway to enable her to perceive the few articles of furniture. The room itself was a small one, but contained a roughly constructed wooden bed, two stools, and a square table of unplaned boards. A strip of rag carpet covered a portion of the floor, and there was a sort of cupboard in one corner, the door of which stood open, revealing a variety of parcels, littering the shelves. Against the wall
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CHAPTER XXIX: A NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK
CHAPTER XXIX: A NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK
The little marshal of Haskell had the reputation of being as quick of wit as of trigger finger. Startled as he was by that sudden apparition appearing before them in the dark road, and at being addressed by a woman's voice, the mention of the name Cassady gave him an instant clue. There was but one Cassady in camp, and that individual's reputation was scarcely of a kind to recommend him in the eyes of the law. If any woman sought that fellow in this out-of-the-way spot, it was surely for no good
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CHAPTER XXX: ON THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF
CHAPTER XXX: ON THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF
For a moment both men suspected that what they looked upon was a mirage—its actual existence there in that place seemed impossible. Yet there was no disputing the fact, that yonder in the very midst of that desolation of sand, a wagon drawn by straining horses was slowly moving directly toward them. Westcott was first to grasp the truth, hastily jerking the marshal back to where the tired ponies stood with drooping heads behind the protection of the dune. "It's the same outfit coming back," he e
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CHAPTER XXXI: WITH FORCE OF ARMS
CHAPTER XXXI: WITH FORCE OF ARMS
They were still sitting there cross-legged in the sand when the silence was suddenly punctuated by the sharp report of a revolver. The sound barely reached their ears, yet it undoubtedly came from below, and all three were upon their feet, when a second shot decided the matter. Westcott was first at the rim, staring eagerly downward. It was growing dusk down there in the depths, yet was still light enough to enable him to perceive movement, and the outlines of the cabins. For a moment all he not
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CHAPTER XXXII: IN THE TWO CABINS
CHAPTER XXXII: IN THE TWO CABINS
The marshal's lips smiled. "Sure, Jim," he drawled, "anything to oblige, although this is a new one on me. Come on, Matt; it seems the gentleman does not wish to be disturbed—— Well, neither would I under such circumstances. Here you! line up there in single file, and get a move on you—pronto! Show 'em what I mean, Matt; put that guy that talks English at the head—— Yes, he's the one. Now look here, amigo , you march straight out through that door, and head for the bunk-house—do you get that?" "
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CHAPTER XXXIII: THE REAL MR. CAVENDISH
CHAPTER XXXIII: THE REAL MR. CAVENDISH
It was a hard, slow journey back across the desert. Moore's team and wagon were requisitioned for the purpose, but Matt himself remained behind to help Brennan with the prisoners and cattle, until the party returning to Haskell could send them help. Westcott drove, with Miss Donovan perched beside him on the spring-seat, and Cavendish lying on a pile of blankets beneath the shadow of the canvas top. It became exceedingly hot as the sun mounted into the sky, and once they encountered a sand storm
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CHAPTER XXXIV: MISS DONOVAN DECIDES
CHAPTER XXXIV: MISS DONOVAN DECIDES
Two men came in through the door together, each with a small grip in his hand, which Timmons took from them, and deposited beside the stove. The larger wrote both names in the register, and then straightened up, and surveyed the landlord. "Any chance to eat?" he asked. "We're both of us about starved." Timmons scratched his head. "I reckon there's plenty o' cold provender out thar," he said doubtfully, "an' maybe I could hustle you up some hot coffee, but we don't aim ter do no feedin' at this t
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