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Updated: June 15, 2025
I always had a warm spot for him in my heart. Nicholas H. Ridgely, the grandfather of the Hon. William Barret Ridgely, who married one of my daughters, and who served as United States Comptroller of the Currency for a number of years, was one of the leading bankers of the State, and was reputed to be one of the first millionaires of Illinois.
In some dark recess of the Treasury Office Mr. Ridgely struck upon a mine of wealth, in a mouldy wooden box, which was found to contain many missing Journals of the Provincial Council, some of which bore date as far back as 1666.
The inner areas of the first and second fingers of his left hand bore cigarette stains, seemingly indelible: the first and second fingers of his right hand were strongly ornamented in a like manner; tokens proving him ambidextrous to but a limited extent, however. Moreover, his garments and garnitures were not comparable to those of either Newland Sanders or that dapper antique, Mr. Ridgely.
Dave glanced at the bit of pasteboard his visitor extended. It bore simply a name: "James Price." "If you get the faintest clew to Ridgely or the Dawsons," continued Mr. Price, "wire the secret service bureau at Chicago. I will arrange so that I shall be advised at once." "I will do what I can for you, Mr. Price," promised Dave.
His tone was somewhat regretful, and not at all unfriendly. Dave was shrewd enough to discover this, and politic enough to take quick advantage of it. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "Of course you are with the crowd who had me locked in here." "I'm sorry to say that's true," responded Ridgely.
He wanted to say that if Mrs. Bowen were what the late Mr. Bowen had dreamed her, then the late Mr. Bowen, when cast into his deep sleep, must have had Lina Ridgely in his eye. But this seemed to be personalising the fantasy unwarrantably, and pushing it too far. For like reason he forbore to say that if Mr.
You was seen goin' toward the station about an hour before Budd Tucker found Ridgely, the agent, stretched out on the floor of the office, a bullet from a .45 clean through him. An' there's five thousand dollars in gold gone, an' no trace of it. An' there's been no strangers in town.
"Somewhat like a man going in for treatment of a broken arm; in any decent hospital they'll also check for any other medical problems, and he'll come out healthier than if he had never had the broken arm. "Wade seems to have had a mind that made friends with molecules, and talked their language. After Ridgely shows him how to make friends with people I think he'll be quite a man on our team!"
He did not reach the hospital at Fort Ridgely until the night of December 24th eleven days after his first exposure.
I've had my fill of it." The speaker turned to leave the room, but Dave halted him with the question: "What are you going to do about me, Mr. Ridgely?" "I am going to order the people here to treat you the best they know how," was the prompt response. "That's all very well enough," said Dave, "but I have business to attend to." "What business, Dashaway?" "Our airship and my friend."
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