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The wound given Ransom Vane by the tramp proved but a trivial affair, and immediately on his recovery from the nervous shock into which it had thrown him, the young man came to Grandon and communicated his suspicions to the police. "I do deny it," uttered Mrs. Bordine at length. "I never saw that dagger until last evening." "Indeed!" "Hasn't it been in your son's possession for a long time?"
"No, she's as well as usual." "Did you tell her who called?" "Yes, sir." The face of the young engineer was a puzzle to look at. He refused to depart until the maid went once more to see her mistress. On her return she brought a note from Rose, that was as great a puzzle to the engineer as was the curious acting of his betrothed. "MR. BORDINE: There can be no necessity for an interview.
Bordine stared at Rose in a sort of dazed way that proved that she did not fully understand. "I would not weep over poor Iris, Mrs. Bordine." "Iris?" "Yes. I feel, and so does August, that the girl is better off " "What are you talking about? Who is Iris?" It was Rose Alstine's turn to stare. "I am aware that you have tried faithfully to keep the secret, Mrs.
Bordine stood petrified, without articulation. What had happened? The moment she could gather her senses sufficiently, she crossed the floor and gazed at the object that lay under the window. An ordinary newspaper was twisted about it, and when Mrs. Bordine took it in her hand, she realized that the substance was of metal. Swiftly she unwound the paper.
"I had two hundred dollars in the bureau. That was taken." "Yes." "That convinces me that my poor sister was murdered so that the villain could rob the house." "I am not sure of that." "No?" "This robbery may be only a blind." "Do you think so?" "I will not say that. It will never do to jump at conclusions. My suspicions, if I have any, turn toward that man who just left us." "August Bordine?"
Two days passed with no solution of the mystery. And during the time August Bordine did not come to the Alstine house. For this there was good reason. He was not yet able to move about comfortably on account of his hurt.
While the real Bordine was a fugitive from justice, the schemer felt that he had nothing to fear from him; but how long was this to be? The young engineer might be captured at any time, when it would be impossible for him to deceive Rose longer. It was this fear that troubled Barkswell more than aught else.
Seizing the paper, the young man closed the door and went back to the cozy cottage parlor. "Who was it, August?" But just then the young man was too busy imbibing the contents of the bit of paper to heed the words of his mother. "MR. BORDINE Be ever on the alert. A conspiracy has been formed for your destruction. It is time you were up and doing.
"Why was this dropped in here?" uttered Mrs. Bordine, as she laid the ugly, yet beautiful, weapon aside, and went about securing the window against further intrusion. "August sent it, that horrible man said. If so, why did he not come to the door like a decent person would?" Sure enough. The door to her son's room stood ajar, and mechanically Mrs.
"I do, but I am willing to risk life to see the one I love " "Hush! Mr. Bordine," cried the girl, huskily. "I wish to hear no more of that." "No? Then you believe the stories that are handed about that I am a murderer?" There was a bitter tone to his voice that did not fail to have its effect. "Don't ask me, August," she returned sadly.
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