The Cleverdale Mystery: or, The Machine and Its Wheels: A Story of American Life

The body was soon dressed; the hardest work experienced was that of encasing the feet in boots, although the task, after much effort, was successfully accomplished.

The two men had labored faithfully and their work was soon finished. The clothes taken from the dead man were buried, the form lifted into the carriage, the men following, when Mannis turned the horses' heads toward Cleverdale.

The clouds began discharging flashes of lightning, loud peals of thunder adding their unpleasantness to the scene, and amid almost impenetrable darkness the team could not be driven faster than a walk. Presently great drops of rain spattered into the carriage, striking the occupants full in the face. After a long, gloomy ride, which neither Mannis nor Sargent enjoyed, the street lamps of Cleverdale were faintly seen in the distance.

"Where are we, Sargent? Oh, I see now – that flash showed up the country. There is the road – let us turn in and plant this chap."

The horses' heads were again turned, and approaching a clump of forest trees the two men jumped out. The body was taken from the vehicle and dropped over the fence. Both men then followed, and carrying the body back some distance, placed it beneath a tree.

"Where is the pistol, Sargent? All right – now I'll put a ball into his brain."

A sharp report followed, and Mannis had fired through the sightless eyes, the pistol being held so near as to tear and disfigure the face past recognition.

"There!" said he. "I guess this will be a good enough Alden until I marry the girl."

The pistol laid beside the body, the two men hastily left the place.

One hour later, Sargent was in his bed, and as daylight began to dawn, as naturally as if nothing unusual had happened, Mannis was on his way toward Havelock.

CHAPTER XXVII.

CLEVERDALE'S SORROW

Gradually the disappearance of George Alden became known about Cleverdale. His sister, on returning, was greatly shocked to learn of his absence. It was thought best by both Senator Hamblin and Belle that the cause of his flight should be kept from her, and she was encouraged by both assuring her of his probable restoration to them in the course of two or three days.

Patiently the two women waited. The Sabbath was gloomy and dismal, for a drizzling rain kept everybody within doors. Monday dawned, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday following without the return of the loved wanderer. The hours passed slowly and sadly, and the lines about the eyes of both women showed plainly that sorrow and grief were almost bursting two hearts.

Since the news of the cashier's departure became known, many inquiries had been made, and much sympathy expressed for the friends of the young man. It was feared his brain had become disturbed during his long illness, and that he was wandering about in a weakened condition of body as well as mind. One remembered that he appeared abstracted and acted strangely; another recollected passing him without his scarcely returning recognition, and many others now brought to their remembrance strange actions on his part.

As day after day passed the excitement increased, and his disappearance became the theme of general conversation. It was singular that no one recollected his departure on the evening train, the night he left his native village.

Senator Hamblin, nervous and filled with great anxiety, wondered why his summons had not brought back the fugitive. Many times he took from his private drawer the intercepted letters written to his daughter and Fannie Alden, and closely examined the assumed name and address, to convince himself that he had made no mistake in directing his letter. Much of his time was spent at home with his wife and daughter, who saw his anxiety, but little suspected the double load that weighed him down. Looking upon himself as a criminal, the impending financial ruin, added to the injury done his own daughter, nearly drove him to desperation. He scarcely slept during the long, tedious hours of the night, while the day gave him no peace of mind.

Receiving a visit from Mannis, the two men held a consultation for an hour, Senator Hamblin telling of his resolve and determination to make all reparation in his power for the wrong he had done. The wily Mannis pretended to coincide with him, even expressing a mock penitence for the part he had performed in the affair. So well did he act his rôle that Senator Hamblin never suspected the deception that was to make him a victim. He knew nothing of the body lying in the woods, soon to play an important part in the development of the scheme. Since the change in himself he began to look upon Mannis as a villain, even congratulating himself that fate, more careful of his child's happiness than her own father, had made her the wife of George Alden. But when Mannis expressed penitence for what he had done, Senator Hamblin fell into the error of believing him an honest man. He did not hear the words Mannis whispered into Sargent's ear as he passed through the bank:

"The old man trembles, Sargent, and is greatly affected – how he will rip and tear when the fellow in the woods is found! Oh, my!" Both men laughed, and Mannis left the bank.

Friday was a pleasant day, the excitement being on the increase, for George Alden's disappearance had become still more cause of wonder. About noon, two little boys, greatly frightened and excited, came running into the village, exclaiming:

"A man – a dead man – in the woods over there!"

"Where?" inquired a citizen. "Stop and tell me."

The other lad, calming himself, said:

"We were playing in the woods out yonder, and saw a man – looking as if he was dead – lying under a tree, and we just ran away, sir."

By this time several other persons gathered about the boys, insisting upon the little fellows leading them to the place where the cause of their fright could be found. The lads agreed to go as far as the fence and point out the spot. The men moved along, their numbers increasing, and by the time they arrived at the grove there were at least twenty persons in the crowd. The boys pointed to a large maple tree, and a moment later the crowd surrounded the dead body. An offensive odor filled the air, and the horrible sight caused many to turn hastily away.

"Who is it?" asked every one, but no one seemed able to answer.

The crowd was being augmented by numbers, for the news of the discovery had spread rapidly. Finally a man broke through the crowd, and hastily glancing at the body, said:

"It is George Alden. I know those clothes; but see, the face is pretty much gone. Horrible!"

The news flew quickly to the village, and many people flocked to the scene. Gazing upon the mutilated remains, many, recognizing the clothing, corroborated the opinion first expressed. Soon it was decided in the minds of all that the remains were those of the missing cashier, a pistol in close proximity to the body telling a tale of suicide.

The coroner came later, a jury was empanelled, and it was discovered that all valuables on the person had been stolen. Although the body was so badly decomposed that a thorough examination was impossible, the bullet-hole was plainly visible, the whole face having the appearance of being scorched and lacerated. In this condition the remains were placed in a handsome casket, and closed never to be opened.

The first theory was one of suicide, although the fact that the watch and everything else of value had been taken from the pockets suggested to many murder as the cause of death.

While the community was greatly shocked, the scenes taking place at the Hamblin mansion were heart-rending. Fannie Alden, on returning to Cleverdale, had been prevailed upon to remain with Belle until her brother's return.

During the anxious days the sisters tried to comfort each other, constantly remaining together. As the hours wore on, no tidings of the loved one being received, hope gradually gave way to despondency, and when the awful news reached them that the dead body of the husband and brother had been found, it prostrated both with grief.

"Oh," cried Belle, "I must go to him, and look upon his dear face once more."

When told it would not be possible for her to see him, her sobs and moans were so piteous that they would have even softened the hearts of the two villainous authors of the deep and cruel game, so full of woe to her, had not these hearts been reserved for more appropriate treatment.

For several days Senator Hamblin visited his daughter only once, for he knew that he was a poor comforter. Suffering the torments of hell, he cursed his mad ambition and declared himself a murderer.

"Oh, my God!" he would exclaim, "what have I done to gratify my ambition? Step by step, approaching this awful deed, what crimes I have committed, and what sorrow I have brought upon my beloved daughter. Dead? yes, and I his murderer! How can I free myself from myself? My dreams are haunted by this awful spectre. I see him before me in his agony, as he trembled at the false accusation that he was a thief. That look haunts me, and almost drives me mad."

Falling into a chair and burying his head in both hands, he groaned in agony of spirit.

"Oh, had I the courage to end this! But no, I dare not run the risk of a worse torment than I am experiencing. If this is earth, what must hell be? I must live and look upon her sad face – see her misery and acknowledge that I, her unnatural father, murdered her husband! Ambition, what a fiend you are!" and so passed hour after hour.

The remains had been removed by the coroner and placed temporarily in the receiving vault. The funeral, appointed for the following day, was a sad and solemn occasion for the people of Cleverdale, the eulogies pronounced over the supposed dead hero touching the hearts of all. The brave act of rescuing the one hundred and fifty operatives from the burning factory was referred to in glowing words, and stout hearts were overcome as they thought of the sad death of the estimable man whom every one loved and respected.

The prostrated young wife was unable to attend the ceremony, for, utterly overcome with grief, she could not leave her room.

A grave was opened in the Hamblin lot, for the Senator ordered that the body should rest there. The crowd that followed was very great, for most of the one hundred and fifty rescued persons followed as mourners, and as they stood beside the yawning chasm, sobs filled the air. Never was there such an affecting funeral in Cleverdale. The church bells tolled sad requiems, and it was a day long to be remembered. As the earth closed over the remains of the man stolen from his grave in Havelock, many grief-stricken hearts were weighed down by the cruel clods; while two jolly fellows met in a room at the Cleverdale Hotel, opened a bottle of wine, and drank to the success of their businesslike scheme.

Instead of abating, Belle's grief increased, causing her to pass many sad hours mourning, and reproaching herself for leaving her husband before his body and mind had regained their natural strength. She desired to make public her marriage and assume her lawful name, but at the urgent solicitation of her father decided to keep her secret; though not until Fannie Alden had acquiesced in her decision. Afterward regretting this deception, she passed many unhappy hours in the dual character assumed.

Senator Hamblin lost all interest in politics; he was burdened with his crime and haunted by visions. In his chamber, at the bank, or with his family he appeared like a broken-down man; even his old political friends failed to arouse him from his moods of despondency. Miller called to converse with him on subjects that heretofore occupied his whole attention.

"I care not, Miller," he said. "I am sick and tired of politics."

Even Paddy Sullivan failed to awaken the old-time enthusiasm, and the canvass for the gubernatorial nomination was abandoned temporarily at least.

Day after day, week after week, month after month, he moved about in a mechanical way. As he kept his notes renewed, no one suspected his financial condition, but the interest on his borrowed money was increasing his indebtedness. He was always kind to Belle, however, and as she lost all love and interest for everything he often expostulated with her.

"No, papa, my heart is frozen. I can only wait for the time when I shall meet George in the other world. But you, papa, look haggard and broken down."

"Ah! my child, I am a murderer – the brand of Cain is upon me. It will be only for a short time, for this terrible responsibility is killing me."

The dutiful girl, throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him.

"How can you kiss me," he would say, "when I have been so cruel to you? Oh, Belle, the world is ignorant of your relation to him and it does not know I drove him away. If the people of Cleverdale, who loved him so, knew that I was his murderer, think you they would spare me?"

"You knew not what you did then. For my sake throw off this grim demon that is holding you. You must be prepared for your public duties, for it will be but a short time before you must go to the Senate again."

"If I could recall the dead, I would willingly give all I possess; yes, I would esteem it a privilege to lie down in the grave myself could I give you back your dead husband."

Belle, filled with grief for the dead, beheld the suffering of the living, and resolved to bear up and save her father if possible.

Poor Fannie Alden was spared the grief that would have been hers had she been told of the charge preferred against her brother. She believed that, becoming deranged, he had taken his own life. A long investigation was made, but of course nothing was found supporting the theory of murder excepting the fact of the pockets containing no valuables. It was ascertained, however, that the watch of George Alden was at a jewelry store, left there by the owner to be repaired; but the absence of all other articles from the pockets was enveloped in deep mystery. Not one word written by the deceased had been found. The excitement soon died away, the suicide theory being gradually accepted.

Senator Hamblin and daughter thought they knew why he had taken his own life. Mannis and Sargent knew George Alden was not dead. But the people of Cleverdale, visiting the cemetery, often paused beside the grave and said:

"Such a good and noble man! What a sad thing that he became insane and killed himself!"

CHAPTER XXVIII.

AMONG THE HILLS OF COLORADO

Four long weary months passed, and George Alden, alias George Howard, sat in his room at the boarding-house in Chicago. His face was pale, and lines of sorrow were plainly visible about his eyes. Gazing intently at a photograph, his only companion in many a sad hour, he murmured:

"Lost! lost to me, all that I loved and adored! Four months ago I fled like a thief from my native village; oh, fatal mistake, fatal mistake! By that act acknowledging myself guilty of a crime I never committed, I must now prepare to go forth into the world and battle for a new existence."

Raising the picture to his lips, he kissed it again and again.

"Oh, that cruel letter! But 'grief never kills;' the fact that I am spared proves the truthfulness of the old saying. My wife believes me a villain, and all I might say or do would never convince her to the contrary. And my poor sister has deserted me; she too must believe me guilty of crime."

He was much agitated, and rising from his chair paced the room for a few moments, when forcing a change of manner he said:

"No more of this – I must smother these remembrances of mine; henceforth I must conquer the feeling that overwhelms me. Farewell all past loves! Farewell all past joys and sorrows! To-morrow I go forth into the world, and as Mrs. Nash's door closes behind me the curtain disclosing the past will drop forever. It must be so, or I cannot expect to keep up with the army I am soon to join."

The next morning, rising early, he packed his satchel, and descended to the breakfast-room, where he ate more than usual. Upon leaving the table he entered the sitting-room, where he glanced over the newspaper until Mrs. Nash joined him.

"Mrs. Nash, I am going away to-day."

"Going away? You must not go yet, for you are hardly strong enough."

"Do not think me ungrateful to such a kind mother as you have been to me, but I must seek a place where I can earn money. I have been dreading departure from this home – the only one I possess in the world; but I have fully realized the need of active employment for my mind. I must forget myself – forget I ever lived until I came to you. Do not ask me why. Some time I promise to tell you all; yes, open wide the book, that you may read every line upon the pages that to me are so sad and gloomy."

The good woman noted his sorrow, and saw the necessity of cheering words.

"Never mind all that," she said; "this world is full of sunshine, and if clouds hide the light for a while, remember that the sun shines just the same. I shall miss you, but wherever you go I shall always think of you, and hope to hear of your prosperity."

"Dear, kind mother – you are all I have now – the only link binding my heart to the past is your love and kindness. God bless you! God bless you!"

His voice trembled with emotion, and Mrs. Nash, wiping away a tear, forced a smile, and replied:

"If I am your mother, you are my son, and as you are to leave me, I insist upon a promise."

"Name it, my good mother, and if it is among the possibilities I will readily comply."

"It is this: you must try to forget all sorrow of the past and live for the future. You must write me at least once a month, telling about yourself. You must, above all things, be cheerful and not give way to despondency."

Promising to obey, and regretfully bidding the good woman farewell, Alden turned his face westward from Chicago, to seek a fortune and begin a new life for himself in the wilds of Colorado. A week later, he stood alone in the streets of a small settlement in the silver hills, and, after walking about for a while, entered a hotel, and bargained for a week's board. On entering the small room assigned him he was forced to smile at the primitive style of the apartment and its furniture. The bed was simply a "tick" filled with dried grass, over which was spread two coarse woollen blankets. The bedstead was without posts, while an old rickety chair and a barrel used as a table completed the furniture of the apartment.

The following day he met two young men who, like himself, were strangers in the locality and seeking a fortune. Sympathy drawing the three together, they mutually formed plans for the future.

The next morning the three, leaving the inn on a prospecting tour, first visited the mines in the vicinity. Every detail was carefully noted, and they asked so many questions of those in charge, that, as they left the place, a foreman remarked:

"There are three keen-eyed chaps, and I'll bet a silver brick they'll strike a paying lead before they are much older."

Four days later they staked a claim, pulled off their coats and began active operations; a few old heads smiling at the three "tender-feet" turning miners.

Alden rapidly gained strength, and the bracing air and steady exercise gradually restored him to health. The paleness so long overspreading his countenance gave place to a healthy glow, and the clouds that darkened his mind were only visible at periods when he allowed old thoughts to disturb him.

His natural strong will-power reasserted itself as his physical vigor returned. His principal thought now was to repay the sum which Senator Hamblin advanced him when he fled, like a thief, from home and friends. The amount he was accused of stealing he knew was not incumbent on him to pay, for he now fully believed Senator Hamblin had really manufactured the charge to get him out of the way, that he might marry his daughter to Walter Mannis.

Belle, he knew, was his lawful wedded wife, and could not, if she wished, marry Mannis; yet he longed at some future day to return to Cleverdale and confront his false accusers, even though his wife had turned against him. This thought often entered his mind, but he dismissed it with the remark:

"No, I shall never go back to be spurned by the only woman I ever loved."

His companions often inquired concerning his past life, and as he evaded direct answers, they concluded his presence in Colorado was the result of a love affair. Soon learning to look upon him as the very soul of honor, in all their movements he became an adviser with rare judgment and foresight.

Operations were partially suspended by the three miners during the winter, for the weather prevented much work. Being prudent during the winter months, they made but little inroad upon their reserve fund, and when spring opened were ready to renew operations. All about them were evidences of rich mineral wealth, and before summer came they had gone to a considerable depth into the earth. Day by day they toiled on, and old miners, straying through the gulch and watching them, changed doubt of the "tender-feet" to admiration at their plucky spirit. All through the region in that mountain-pass spread the fame of the new company, and when indications of paying ore began to develop itself everybody said:

"I told you so! those chaps will certainly succeed."

George Howard showed plainly that he was worthy of success. Nearly a year had passed since his departure from Cleverdale, and during that time, with the exception of the forged letter, he had received no tidings from his native place. Could he have seen that silent mound in the Cleverdale Cemetery surmounted by a plain marble slab bearing the name of George Alden, it is possible that he might have abated his energies, but his only ambition now being to succeed in his new life, right royally did he concentrate all his efforts to accomplish his desire.

He regularly wrote to his good friend Mrs. Nash, and the letters received in return overflowed with sympathy and words of encouragement. Greatly prizing her letters, he read and re-read them until every word was indelibly engraved upon his mind. This was very unromantic, but it was also very much to his credit.

One day, "Three Boys Gulch," as it was called, was the scene of excitement, for the efforts of the partners were crowned with success by the discovery of a rich vein of silver. The news travelled on swift wings, and spectators looking into the shaft shook their heads at the thought of what they had missed.

The young men became lions at once, for were they not owners of a bonanza? and George Howard wrote a short letter to his friend Mrs. Nash as follows:

"Three Boys Gulch.

"My DEAR Friend AND Mother:

"I am a rich man, for we have struck a bonanza. Business may call me to Chicago soon, when I shall see you, and then, my good mother, I will tell you the secret of my life. Until then, farewell.

"Ever your friend,"George Howard."

Sealing the letter, he said:

"And now for a vindication of myself; even if I were guilty, everybody will listen to me when I own a third of a rich silver mine."

CHAPTER XXIX.

POOR MARY HARRIS

Go where you will, seek whom you may, converse with all whom you meet, and you will fail to find a person of either sex, arrived at years of discretion, whose heart does not conceal a secret. Some have secrets of love, some secrets of business, while other heart-closets may conceal the skeleton of a secret crime. Several of our characters have faithfully retained secrets which, if known, would have long ere this abruptly terminated our story.

Senator Hamblin suffered intensely by his terrible secret. Fully conscious that George Alden had committed no crime, to the oft-repeated inquiries of his daughter concerning the defalcation he evaded direct answers by saying he believed him innocent, although the sum of five thousand dollars had mysteriously disappeared. His agency in the supposed death of George Alden weighed heavily upon him, while the impending crash in his business affairs was a secret that gave him no peace of mind.

His daughter possessed two secrets; one of them, her marriage with George Alden, was faithfully kept from all except those of her own immediate family. While it was publicly known that she mourned his death, refusing comfort, none but those mentioned were aware of the relation she sustained toward the late cashier. Another secret which she guarded safely was her knowledge of the accusation which she supposed caused her husband's death.