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Updated: June 24, 2025
This was the story that Ferne Yarnell told in the parlor of the Palace Hotel to Jack Flatray and the Lees. Melissy spoke first. "Did Mr. Bellamy kill the man to keep your brother from being killed?" "I don't know. It must have been that. It's all so horrible." The deputy's eyes gleamed. "Think of it another way, Miss Yarnell. Bellamy was up against it. Your brother is only a boy.
Two hands went swiftly up from beside the saddle. The moonlight gleamed on something bright in the right hand. A flash rent the night. A jagged, red-hot pain tore through the shoulder of Hal Yarnell. He fired wildly, the shock having spoiled his aim. The attacker laughed exultantly, mockingly, as he swung his horse about. "A present from Black MacQueen," he jeered.
Seward, you know, has been Governor of New York, and Senator. He's a famous man. The political machine is back of him, and lots of money in New York City." Then Yarnell went on to tell me that he himself was connected with the street railways in New York, and that the railways were backing Seward. Wall Street, however, was a little nervous.
At the Richmond House there was much champagne, for that was the headquarters of the New York crowd. Yarnell took me here and introduced me about to his friends. He was well known. He had money for the occasion, and was esteemed in that light. It was a different crowd here from that I had seen in St. Louis years before, but its spirit was the same.
Yarnell said this was Castle Garden, where many diners came for the excellence of the food and the view of the harbor. I could begin to see up the streets of the city beyond the Battery. But there was a riot of stir and activity, in expectation of our boat. I disembarked and hired a hack. I was traveling with a huge valise. This the hackman took for me.
I reckon Melissy has introduced you to her friends. No? Make you acquainted with Mr. Flatray. Shake hands with Mr. Norris, Miss Yarnell. Where are you, Norris?" The owner of the Bar Double G swung round, to discover for the first time that harmony was not present. Boone stood back with a sullen vindictive expression on his face.
"Yes, I'm here. An unexpected pleasure, isn't it?" "Do you know Ferne Yarnell?" he asked, for once taken aback. "It looks as if I do." His quick furtive eye fell upon an envelope on the floor. He picked it up. Upon it was written, "Miss Ferne Yarnell," and in the corner, "Introducing Miss Lee." A muscle twitched in his face. When he looked up there was an expression of devilish malignity on it.
Left jes' a little while ago. I saw him go him 'n' Farnum 'n' Charley Hymer 'n' Hal Yarnell 'n' Mr. Bellamy." "Bet they git 'em." "Bet they don't." "Aw, course they'll git 'em, Tom." The other youngster assumed an air of mystery. He swelled his chest and strutted a step or two nearer. Urbane condescension oozed from him. "Say, Jimmie. C'n you keep a secret?" "Sure. Course I can."
As Dorothy was anxious to return to our son, she left me with Yarnell who wished to join me at luncheon. He took me to the Hone Club, which was the resort of good livers and men about town. After ordering the meal we set to the comparison of notes. He was eager to hear about the West and of Chicago.
At first afraid of what might happen to him, he had stood aside and let the blame be shouldered upon young Yarnell. But later his conscience had forced him to a confession. It is enough here to say that he was later tried and acquitted, thus closing the chapter of the wastrel's tragic death.
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