Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
"You needn't mind showing them," as the little, elderly man sprang out of his low wagon and hobbled to the walk with a tin box under his arm. "Where's the woman your wife? Mebbe she'd like to look at something." The man pushed his way through the gate and insisted on entering the house. This was wholly unnecessary Barkswell thought, but he permitted the peddler to have his way.
He was to cause her and me a heap o' trouble. Finally the husban' was ter plot ter put his wife outen the way so't he could git another gal with a big fortune." "Nonsense." "Don't interrupt me," growled the tramp. "I'm jest a tellin' what the fortune-teller said; 'tain't none o' my gammon." "Go on." A smile curled the lip of Barkswell. "Wal, thar ain't a half more to tell.
"How about that old lady who occupies your house on street? Is she your mother?" "Yes." "Does she know what a scoundrel she has for a son?" "She has no knowledge of my private affairs," returned Barkswell, not seeming to notice the offensive manner of putting the question used by Keene. "And Iris is not your wife?" "That's what I said."
The police debated about arresting the girl, but in the end concluded not to do so. They were a chagrined lot, however, who returned to the station. In the meantime Andrew Barkswell, safely disguised, hurried to the house in the suburbs where he had left his wife alone, and, as he believed, dying.
"And Miss Alstine knows nothing of this, of your plans, your scheming to win a fortune through her?" "Certainly not. I haven't been fool enough to give myself away." The detective remained silent for a moment. Then he looked sharply into the face of Barkswell and said: "I am puzzled to know why you saved me from the tramp last night, and took me to your home and nursed me so tenderly.
A blow on the head from the fist of Barkswell effectually silenced the tongue of the helpless detective. His senses reeled, and for a few minutes he was oblivious of his surroundings. "What was the feller tryin' to git through him, Andy?" "Nobody knows. Bear a hand and we'll put him where the hogs won't bite him." Both men laid hold of the bound detective and dragged him to one side of the room.
That Barkswell was the forger who was wanted in New York the detective was assured. He judged this from a photograph that he had in his possession the subject of which, however, had a full beard, and this had prevented Keene's recognizing the likeness when he was first introduced to Barkswell, alias Bordine, by young Ransom Vane.
He did, however, assassinate his wife's brother, and buried the body in the cellar of an old shanty in the woods upon Bear Creek." "That is false," uttered Barkswell, yet trembling and paling with fear. "I have the proof," declared Shanks. "What proof?" "My eyesight. I saw you bury your victim!" The prisoner weakened then.
Soon after that untoward event, the scheming Barkswell had changed his residence to a less respectable neighborhood, against the protest of his wife, who was constantly urging him to lead a better life. All this time Barkswell was exceedingly anxious that Iris should leave him for a better world, where she would be less troublesome. He entered her presence to-night not in the best of humor.
"Do you deny it?" No answer from Barkswell, but his head was bowed upon his breast, and a helpless look filled his eyes. "It would do you no good to deny that you and Perry Jounce murdered Detective Keene " "How did you learn so much?" cried out the doomed man. "There were witnesses present " "Witnesses?" "There was one." "One?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking