The at the Seashore Part 10 (2/2)

”Then it's time to go down to meet her,” said Charlie. ”Come on, girls, and you too, Holmes. You'll be needed down there. And I guess you'll find it worth your while to come, too.”

Holmes, protesting, had no alternative, and in sullen silence he was one of the little group that now made its way toward the pier. She was just being tied up as they arrived, and Silas Weeks, his face full of malign triumph at the sight of Bessie and Zara, was the first to step ash.o.r.e.

”Got yer, have I?” he said. He turned to a lanky, angular man who was at his side. ”There y'are, constable,” he said. ”There's yer parties--them two girls there! Arrest them, will yer?”

”Not here, I won't,” said the constable. ”You didn't tell me it was to come off here. This is government land--I ain't got no authority here.”

”You keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open, Weeks,” said Jamieson, before the angry old farmer could say anything. Then he stepped forward to greet a man and woman who had followed Weeks down the gangplank.

”I'm glad you're here, Mrs. Richards, and you too, Mr. Richards,” he said. ”I'm going to be able to keep my promise.”

Holmes was staring at Mrs. Richards and her husband in astonishment.

”You here, Elizabeth?” he exclaimed. ”And Henry, too? I didn't know you were coming!”

”We decided to come quite unexpectedly, Morton,” said the lady, quietly. She was a woman of perhaps forty-two or three, tall and distinguished in her appearance. But, like her husband, her face showed traces of privations and hards.h.i.+p.

Behind them came a stiff, soldierly looking man, in a blue suit, and him Jamieson greeted with a smile and a handshake.

”There's your man, Marshall,” he said, pointing to Holmes. ”I guess he won't make any resistance.”

And, while Mr. and Mrs. Richards stared in astonishment, and Weeks turned purple, the marshall laid his hand on the merchant's shoulder, and put him under arrest. Holmes was trapped at last.

”What does this mean?” Mrs. Richards asked, indignantly. ”What are you doing to my brother, Mr. Jamieson?”

”That's quite a long story, Mrs. Richards,” he answered, easily. ”And, strange as it may seem, I'll have to answer it by asking you and your husband some questions that may seem very personal. But I've made good with you so far, and I can a.s.sure you that you will have no cause to regret answering me.”

Mrs. Richards bowed.

”In the first place, you and your husband have been away from this part of the country for quite a long time, haven't you?”

”Yes. For a number of years.”

”And you have not always been as well off, financially, as you are now?”

”That is quite true. My husband, shortly after our marriage, failed in business, owing--owing to conditions he couldn't control.”

”Isn't it true, Mrs. Richards, that those conditions were the result of his marriage to you? Didn't your father, a very rich man, resent your marriage so deeply that he tried to ruin your husband in order to force you to leave him?”

There were tears in the woman's eyes as she nodded her head in answer.

”Thank you. I know this is very painful--but I must really do all this. You refused to leave your husband, however, and when he decided to go to Alaska, you went with him?”

”Yes.”

”And there he made a lucky strike, some four or five years ago, that made him far richer than he had ever dreamed of becoming?”

”That is quite true.”

”But, although you were rich, you did not come home? You spent a good deal of time in the Far North, and when you went out for a rest, you came no further east than Seattle or San Francisco?”

”There was no reason for us to come here. All our friends had turned against us in our misfortunes, and our only child was dead. So it was only a few months ago that we came home.”

”That is very tragic. Thank you, Mrs. Richards. One moment--I have another question to ask.”

He stepped toward the gangplank.

”I will be back in a moment,” he said.

He went on board the boat, and while all those on the dock, puzzled and mystified by his questions, waited, he disappeared. When he returned he was not alone. A woman was with him, and, at the sight of her, Bessie gave a cry of astonishment.

”Now, Mrs. Richards,” said Charlie. ”Have you ever seen this woman before!”

”I think I have,” she said, in a strange, puzzled tone. ”But--she has changed so--”

”Her name is Mrs. Hoover, Mrs. Richards. Does that help you to remember?”

”Oh!” Mrs. Richards sobbed and burst into tears. ”Mrs. Hoover!” she said, brokenly. ”To think that I could forget you! Tell me--”

”One moment,” said Charlie, interrupting. His own voice was not very steady, and Eleanor, a look of dawning understanding in her eyes, was staring at him, greatly moved. ”It was with Mrs. Hoover that you left your child when you went west under an a.s.sumed name, was it not? It was she who told you that she had died?”

”Oh, I lied to you--I lied to you!” wailed Maw Hoover, breaking down suddenly, and throwing herself at the feet of Mrs. Richards. ”She wasn't dead. It was that wicked Mr. Holmes and Farmer Weeks who made me say she was.”

”What?” thundered Richards. ”She isn't dead? Where is she?”

”Bessie!” said Charlie, calling to her sharply. ”Here is your daughter, Mrs. Richards, and a daughter to be proud of!”

And the next moment Bessie, Bessie King, the waif no longer, but Bessie Richards, was in her mother's arms!

”So Mr. Holmes was Bessie's uncle!” said Eleanor, amazed. ”But why did he act so!”

”I can explain that,” said Charlie, sternly. ”It was he who set his father so strongly against his sister's marriage to Mr. Richards. He expected that he would inherit, as a result, her share of his father's estate, as well as his own. But his plans miscarried. Mrs. Richards and her husband had disappeared before her father's death, and, when he softened and was inclined to relent, he could not find them. But he knew they had a daughter, and he left to her his daughter's share of his fortune--over a million dollars. There was no trace of the child, however, and so there was a provision in the will that if she did not come forward to claim the money on her eighteenth birthday it should go to her uncle--to Holmes.”

”I always said it was money that was making him act that way!” cried Dolly Ransom.

”Yes,” said Jamieson. ”He had squandered much of his own money--he wanted to make sure of getting Bessie's fortune for himself. So when he learned through Silas Weeks where the child was, he paid Mrs. Hoover to tell her parents she was dead, and then, after she had run away, he and Weeks did all they could to get her back to a place where there was no chance of anyone finding out who she was. They nearly succeeded--but I have been able to block their plans. And one reason is that they were greedy and they couldn't let Zara Slavin and her father alone. He is a great inventor and they profited by his ignorance of American customs.”

”I only found out her name last night,” said Eleanor. ”I wondered if he could be the Slavin who invented the new wireless telephone--”

”They got him into jail on a trumped-up charge,” said Charlie. ”And then they tried to keep Zara away from people who might learn the truth from her, and offer to supply the money he needed. In a little while they would have robbed him of all the profits of his invention.”

”I'll finance it myself,” said Richards, ”and he can keep all of the profit.”

Bessie's father and mother were far too glad to get her back to want to punish Maw Hoover, who was sincerely repentant. They could hardly find words enough to thank Eleanor and Dolly for their friends.h.i.+p, and to Charlie Jamieson their grat.i.tude was unbounded.

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