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Updated: June 22, 2025
"No, the man's right," he said in a labored tone. "The fellow ran when he fired. I I reckon he's done for me." "Who was it?" "The man we wanted Bordine!" "Is it possible?" "It seems to me it would be wise to alarm the police and have them on the lookout for the villain," said the citizen.
He was lean and thin, with swallow-tailed coat, tall hat, battered and worn, a huge necktie and heavy boots a veritable Yankee from way back the young engineer thought. "They consider the girl pretty valuable," said another. "That reward ought to fetch the villain," uttered Bordine. "I have a notion to try for it myself." "S'pose you dew!" The Yankee regarded him curiously.
"Silas Keene!" exclaimed Bordine. "Good lord, who'd a thought it?" interjected the motherly widow, with upraised hands. "Only a bit of disguise," laughed the detective. "I adopt such frequently. It sometimes becomes highly necessary you know, Mr. Bordine." "I suppose so." "I saw a notice of your injury in the evening paper and hastened here at once." "Thanks.
Rose uttered a cry. Mrs. Bordine stood staring, but when the man lifted his hat she uttered a glad cry and rushed to his arms. It was, or seemed to be, August Bordine. Rose waited for her turn with a wildly beating heart. "Stand aside mother, I would speak with Rose." The mother stepped aside then. There was something in the man's voice that sounded unnatural. She felt chilled and rebelled.
"True, I will investigate thoroughly." The detective hastened away, and a little later the coroner appeared. A jury was summoned and an examination had. This was on the morning following the tragedy. August Bordine had been summoned by telegraph, and was the most important witness in the case. When he told the story of the tramp the silence was oppressive. "Did you know the fellow?"
"By heaven, you did, and it is you who murdered my sister!" hissed young Vane, trembling with the maddest emotions that ever whelmed a human breast. "Vane clutched the arm of young Bordine, and glared furiously into his face. "Calm yourself, my dear Ransom," urged the engineer. "You are beside yourself now. I had no quarrel with Victoria.
As he had said it was almost day dawn, and one person was early astir, at least in the city, a man who had been listening at the slightly raised window to the conversation going on between Bordine and the detective. "It is well," he muttered with a chuckle of delight as he hurried away.
Just think what the gossips would say. As a relative, and one who would not like to see our good name trailed as a garment, I warn you not to think of such a thing as visiting that man Bordine." Rose regarded the speaker keenly. Even with a sad feeling tugging at her heart, she could not but understand that it was sour grapes with Janet Williams.
"We will hope that a mistake has been made, dear Mrs. Bordine." "And you are so kind," returned the old woman with tears in her eyes. Do you know, Miss Alstine, I want to ask your forgiveness." "For what, dear?" "For unkind judgment of you." "I am sure you never have misjudged me, dear." "Oh, yes I have." "How?" "It was one day when August had been up to your house.
About a week after the tragedy at Ridgewood as Bordine was walking down the street his eyes was attracted by a poster on a dead wall near. He paused and read: $5,000 REWARD. The above reward will be given for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person who murdered Victoria Vane at her home in Ridgewood on the 10th of June. "BUCK BRADY, Sheriff."
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