_ CHAPTER XV. A BAFFLED VILLAIN
In the meantime Harper Elliston, true to his word for once at least, left the train at the Woodburg depot on the same morning that his young detective friend arrived in Burlington.
Repairing to his room at the hotel, the New Yorker remained until the dinner hour. After this he turned his steps in the direction of the Darrel Cottage.
"I suppose Nell Darrel will be delighted to see me," chuckled Elliston, as he walked up the steps and rang the bell.
Aunt Jule opened the door. "Marse Dyke ain't home."
"But Miss Nell is, I suppose."
"Yes, and deed, sir; she's got company, and can't see no one fur de present," cried the grinning negress, quickly.
"Company? A lot of chattering girls, I suppose?"
"No; a young gemmen----"
"A gentleman?"
The frown that blackened the brows of Harper Elliston was not pleasant to see. He was not pleased that Nell should receive other male company than himself.
"I will enter. I think she will see me when she knows who has come," said he, pushing past the negress, and entering the front room.
He seated himself in an armchair, and proceeded to coolly await the coming of the mistress of the house.
Soon Nell Darrel came in. Her face was suffused with smiles, which evidenced that she had heard good news. Elliston, however, flattered himself that it was his coming that caused the pleased look on the face of the detective's sister.
"A pleasant day, Mr. Elliston."
"Rather."
He rose and held out his hand. She did not accept it, much to his chagrin.
"Aren't you glad to see me, Nell?" he queried. "I've been absent almost a week, and I thought you would be longing for my company by this time."
A smile of self-assurance crossed his dark face.
"I have no reason to regard you with any more consideration than on your former visit," she said. "Have you seen my brother?"
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
"In Iowa, I presume."
"He is well?"
"He was when I parted with him, a short time since. You haven't heard from him?"
"Yes. He was then in a small town in the South or West, I believe."
Thus they chatted for some time.
During the past few days a desperate resolve had taken possession of Elliston's brain. He admired the pretty Nell now more than ever, and he was determined to make one more effort to win her regard before going to extremes.
That morning he had braced his nerves with several draughts of brandy, and the fumes yet affected him, thus rendering him extremely imprudent, to say the least.
"Nell, Jule tells me you had company when I came. Who was it?"
"A gentleman."
"Aye, but his name?"
The man's eyes glittered, and seemed to pierce with their keenness to the soul of the girl who sat in front of him. She could smell his breath, too, and the fact that he had been drinking made her a little nervous.
She was anxious for him to depart.
"He is not one of your acquaintances," replied Nell, evasively.
"But one of yours, it seems," sneered the man, in a tone that was the least bit disrespectful.
"Mr. Elliston, did you come here to insult me?"
"Certainly not," he answered in a gentler tone. "Forgive me, Nellie; I can't abide having another win the affections of one I so much covet. If you only knew, Nell----"
"Mr. Elliston, don't."
Both came to their feet.
He advanced and seized her hands once more; nay, he suddenly flung one arm about her slender waist and drew her closely, at the same time imprinting a kiss on her cheek.
"I love you, Nell, and will not give you up. Fly with me, darling, where no odious friends may come between us!"
"Villain, release me!"
Nell struggled with desperate energy, but she was as a child in the hands of the tall scoundrel.
"No, no, little girl, I will not permit you to escape. I mean to make it impossible for you to wed another," grated the man, in a meaning voice, that sent a shudder of horror to the heart of pure Nell Darrel.
Lucky was it for the girl that her visitor had not yet left the house.
Nell screamed aloud, and then the hand of Elliston was pressed over her pretty mouth. Had the man been in his sober senses, he would never have attempted such bold work; but when in liquor Harper Elliston was far from prudent.
"No nonsense now," he sneered.
And then a door opened; a slender form crossed the floor, and as Elliston turned to confront the new-comer he received a straight left-hander in the chest that sent him back reeling.
Gasping, and very red, Nell started aside, and held out her hand with a low cry of alarm.
The stalwart Elliston soon regained his equilibrium, and faced the one who had dealt him such a furious blow--a slender youth not yet out of his teens, yet in whose blue eyes flashed a determined spirit.
"Scoundrel!" ejaculated Elliston.
He stood glaring at the boy with the venom of a mad serpent in his black eyes.
"Get from this house, or I will call the police and have you put in the cooler," said the boy, quickly, standing with clenched hands in front of Nell, and returning the tall man's scowls with interest.
"I'll smash every bone in your body, you insignificant little snipe," roared Elliston. Instead, however, of making the attempt, the man drew a small derringer from his pocket, and lifting the hammer, leveled it at the head of his youthful assaulter.
"Gentlemen, please, please desist," pleaded Nell in a shaky voice. "This is no place for a quarrel."
"It isn't, I admit," returned the boy, "but this sneak brought it about, and now the odds are so much against him, he has recourse to a deadly weapon. There is just that difference between us, Harper Elliston."
The New Yorker started as the youth pronounced his name. He imagined that he was not known to the boy.
"You see, I know you," proceeded the boy, noticing the man start. "I have had the villain Elliston pretty well described to me, and know that your act just now justifies me in calling you by that name. Shoot, coward, if you dare."
There was a cool defiance in the blue eyes of the boy, that won the admiration of Elliston in spite of his anger.
"No, the game is too small," retorted Elliston, lowering his weapon. "I cannot afford to tarnish an honorable reputation by shedding the blood of a child. I shall, nevertheless, remember you, young man, and on the proper occasion give you the thrashing you so richly deserve."
A look from Nell Darrel cut short the words that trembled on the lips of the youth.
"I bid you good afternoon, Miss Darrel," and Elliston bowed and walked to the door. "I will see you again and explain matters."
The door opened and closed, and the smooth villain was gone.
"Thank Heaven!" murmured Nell. "It might have been worse," said the boy. "I did not miss my guess when I called him Elliston?"
"No."
"I thought not. You can see now that Harry Bernard had good reason for warning you to beware of Harper Elliston!"
"I can see it plainly enough," returned the girl. "When will Harry come to Woodburg?"
"I understand how anxious you are," said the boy, with a smile. "Harry is assisting Dyke to ferret out the railroad express crime, and it may be some weeks before he comes to this part of the State. I think he will be satisfied to know that you are true to him. It was his knowledge of Elliston's villainy that induced him to send me to see you with a note of warning."
"I am thankful for his kindness, Mr. Ender."
"Everybody calls me Paul, Miss Darrel."
"And everybody (that is my friends), all call me Nell," returned the girl, with a pleasant little laugh.
"Let it be Nell and Paul then," and the boy joined in her laugh, thus aiding in banishing the shadows of the day. Harry Bernard's youthful messenger soon after departed, promising to call again on the following day, when he might have another message from young Bernard, who was still supposed to be in St. Louis.
In the meantime the angry and discomfited Elliston repaired to the hotel and made hasty preparations for departure.
He left on the first train for Chicago.
It was late in the evening that Mrs. Scarlet, in her den on Clark street, was roused from a nap she was indulging in, with her head against the wall, by a sharp rap at the door.
Rousing up, she went to see who had come.
She admitted a man with a plug hat and red whiskers.
Professor Darlington Ruggles.
"Aren't you glad to see me, Madam?"
He held out a white set of digits.
"No--why should I be glad?"
She accepted the proffer of friendship, however, and shoved a rickety old chair for her visitor's use.
"I'll tell you why. Because I am the best friend you've got in Chicago."
"That wouldn't be saying much," and Mrs. Scarlet laughed harshly.
"Wouldn't it?"
"Didn't I say so? Nobody comes to see me now since poor Nephew Martin was taken from me. I feel about ready to die but for one thing."
"And that?"
"REVENGE!"
Her eyes snapped in their hollow sockets and the withered bosom heaved with inward emotion.
Mr. Ruggles emitted a laugh.
He was evidently pleased at the condition of the woman's feelings.
"I am glad to find you in this condition, Madam," he said, after a brief pause. "I am here to tell you how you can be revenged, if I mistake not the object on whom your hatred rests.
"It's that infernal Dyke Darrel."
"I knew it. You would smile and feel happy to see him suffer?"
"It would be as beefsteak to a starving man," said the woman, savagely.
"Then listen. He has a most charming sister living in one of the interior towns of the State. She is the only relative he has in the wide world. You can strike the railroad detective through Nell Darrel."
"Yes, yes--go on."
"He is away most of his time, as you doubtless know----"
"And the girl is alone?"
"Save for an old negress. Don't interrupt me, please, until I tell you the exact situation. One of my acquaintances, a gentleman of means, and a mean gentleman, for that matter, wishes to get this girl into his possession. What object he may have does not matter, so long as he is willing to pay big for the work. All that is required of you, Mrs. Scarlet, is to furnish a room, and see that when once inside, Miss Darrel does not escape nor communicate with the outside world. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"And you will consent to act as this girl's keeper for a time?"
"Yes, yes," cried the woman, with eager emphasis, and then a low, half-suppressed sneeze startled them both.
Professor Darlington Ruggles sprang up and looked toward the door. It stood ajar, and through the opening peered a masked face, centered with a pair of glittering eyes.
Uttering a mad cry, Ruggles drew a concealed revolver and, leveling at the head, fired. _