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Updated: May 22, 2025
The hunter lowered his gun and the tramp passed into the outer air. He hurriedly left the vicinity, but before he had passed from sight, he turned his face toward the cottage, and shook a chinched hand toward the open door in which stood two forms Victoria and August Bordine. "Curse you, August Bordine!" hissed the coarse lips. "I'll make you repent this interference, I swear I will.
This was natural with him at times, especially when he had made a gratifying discovery. "Now you must be frank with me," proceeded Keene. "Tell me truly, what relation this man, Bordine, bore to your sister." "They were friends." "Nothing more?" Detective Keene eyed his companion sharply.
Bordine came to his feet and began pacing the floor. He was not yet wholly recovered from the shock he had received from being thrown against a telegraph pole some days before, and he would much rather have remained at home than venture out into the chill air of night. He had a duty in the premises, however.
"I have no wish to deny that the man who met me to-night was Bordine. The meeting was wholly unexpected on my part, and I was compelled to listen to him." "Exactly. Well, it is more than likely that the scoundrel will be in the hands of the law before midnight." Then the sheriff turned away. Quite unstrung, Rose left the building without attempting to see Mrs. Bordine that night.
Several men were striding through the garden, the two in advance wearing the uniform of the city police. "August Bordine, I arrest you for the murder of Victoria Vane." A hand fell on the impostor's shoulder and a bearded face looked into his. There came a wild gleam to the eyes of Barkswell as he realized his situation. He seemed equal to the occasion, however. "A mistake, officer.
I thought August Bordine a much abused man, and now it turns out that he's a villain after all, and able to pull the wool even over my eyes." Slowly Hiram Shanks ascended the bank. His dog uttered a joyful bark, and dashed through the bushes toward the little shanty. "Here you, Tige," called the peddler. "Bow-wow-wow!" was the answer from the faithful dog.
"I cannot give it." "You will not, you mean." She was silent. He shook her slender frame furiously. "Girl, you cannot deceive me; the man you countenanced so unblushingly was August Bordine, the murderer!" He hissed his words out hotly, and seemed ready to crush her with his wrath.
August Bordine was driving down the street, near the depot, his horse became frightened at a passing train and ran. Mr. Bordine was hurled out against a telegraph pole and severely injured. He was removed to his home by a friend. At the hour of going to press we have not been able to obtain further particulars." After reading this, the old gentleman came to his feet.
Weak and faint, she leaned heavily on his arm for support. He led her tottering to Mrs. Bordine and said: "Mother, we ask your blessing. Rose has consented, and we are to be married at once." "Rose consented to marry you?" "Yes, mother." "Don't call me mother," uttered the widow, pushing him from her suddenly, "You are not my son, you are an imposter!" An imposter!
Ransom Vane was the next witness. He testified to finding his sister dead, with August Bordine standing over her. "He was in hunting costume?" "Yes." "How armed?" "I saw no arms. He had placed his gun against the end of the porch I think." "You saw no knife?" "None whatever." Evidently the coroner had sighted the suspicious circumstances connecting August Bordine with the case.
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