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

"Dear Walter: When you read this, my body will be lying in the pond, back of your house, and my soul before its Maker."

"Great God!" he exclaimed, "I have killed her! Poor girl! poor girl!"

After partially calming himself, he continued reading the letter.

"When the hour of your wedding arrives, death will be my bridegroom. I have loved you with all the affection of my heart, and I forgive the wrong you have done me. God spare your life. Tears fall so fast I can scarcely see the paper before me or even hold my pen. Think occasionally of poor Mary. I cannot live and face the disgrace that will be mine. God bless and forgive you.

"Mary Harris."

Dropping the letter, he staggered and fell upon the sofa, utterly overcome. For a few moments he moaned in anguish, but soon rousing himself he arose and said:

"I must overcome this nervousness, and drown these thoughts with brandy – not with water, as poor Mary did hers."

He hastily quaffed a glass of liquor, and the color returned to his face. Then he spoke rapidly to himself.

"I must go! The suicide of Mary Harris being discovered, her father will seek my life. Alden has returned. Now I must be the fugitive."

During the night he wrote several letters, rising at intervals and pacing the room in great agitation. Occasionally lying down, he tried to drive distracting thoughts from his mind, but sleep refused to respond to his summons. Toward morning he packed a trunk and valise, intending to take them with him.

Daylight arriving and the household astir, Mrs. Culver was amazed at hearing him moving about in his room. Going to his door she rapped, and being admitted expressed much surprise at his presence in the house. He only said the wedding had been postponed, but as the good woman observed the ghastly expression upon the face of her master, she knew something had occurred which he did not wish to divulge.

Mannis partook of a light breakfast, and at nine o'clock, his trunk and valise having been placed in the carriage, he bade Mrs. Culver good-by, and said:

"I may be absent a fortnight."

As he stepped into the carriage, farmer Harris, bareheaded, with his face full of rage, suddenly appeared before him, and, pulling a pistol from his pocket, said:

"You miserable wretch, prepare to die! My poor daughter's body lies in yonder house, and you are her murderer. May the devil take your soul!"

There was a flash, followed by a sharp report, and the "Honorable" Walter Mannis fell back in his carriage. Mary Harris was avenged, as far as the death of a deliberate villain can avenge the destruction of a pure woman's life.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CLEVERDALE MYSTERY

After Mannis fled so precipitately from the parlor of the Hamblin mansion, George Alden was the first to break the silence.

"Friends!" he exclaimed, "I am George Alden, whom you have supposed dead. A great wrong or mistake has made me its victim, and the body lying in yonder cemetery is that of a stranger." Then, covering the face of his wife with kisses, he moved forward, and deposited the insensible form of Belle on the sofa, when Fannie Alden sprang quickly toward him, and hysterically embraced him, exclaiming:

"Yes, it is indeed my brother! Oh, what happiness!"

The fright occasioned by the sudden appearance of the supposed dead man having been dispelled by Alden's words, all except members of the family withdrew. In a few moments the efforts at restoration were successful; Belle opened her eyes, and said:

"Was it a dream?"

Beholding the form kneeling beside her, feeling the warm breath on her face, and seeing the loving eyes looking into her own, she cried:

"No – no – it is true. Oh, George, my husband, is it indeed you?"

"Yes, Belle, and I have returned never to leave you again."

Her joy was accompanied by hysterics, and she sobbed and laughed alternately, her arms encircling the neck of her husband.

"You must not leave me – oh, it still seems like a dream – but where is he? Had I married him? Oh, it is horrible!" and she closed her eyes, as if to hide the memory of the scene.

"But yourself, George?" she continued; "tell us where you have been all these long, long, weary months."

"Calm yourself, Belle. Be satisfied that we are reunited. My story is a long one, and after you recover from this excitement you shall know all."

Senator Hamblin, although greatly bewildered, was thoroughly convinced that George Alden really stood before him. When the apparition burst so suddenly upon him, he reeled, and for a time nearly lost his senses, but when he saw his daughter clasped in the arms of the intruder, and heard the words that fell from her lips, fright was superseded by surprise. His heart was filled with both fear and joy; the former overwhelming him as he thought of his responsibility for all the trouble of the past two years; yet joy taking possession of him when he beheld alive the man of whose death he had believed himself the immediate cause. When he had fully regained his composure, he grasped George Alden's hand, and said:

"Forgive me; I have deeply wronged you!" He stooped as if about to fall upon his knees, but Alden said:

"No, no – not that, sir! Say nothing about those matters at present. Surely this joy should wipe out all scores between you and me."

News of the return of George Alden, who had been mourned as dead, quickly spread through the community, and Cleverdale could scarcely credit the news. The hotels, stores, and street corners were scenes of excitement; men of all classes discussed the event, and the return of George Alden caused even greater wonder than his disappearance. When the news reached Sargent, he exclaimed, "Alden returned? Thunder and Mars! I must skip out of this at once. Wonder what has become of Mannis? Well, it is every one for himself in this deal. Good-by, old Cleverdale! good-by! Perhaps I'll see you later." An hour afterward, Sargent was on a western-bound train, and the community was rid of its worst villain.

The following morning all arose early at the Hamblin mansion; Belle would not allow her husband to leave her side even for an instant, and for the first time in many months joy and happiness were visible in her eyes. Fannie Alden had remained at the mansion, and, all anxious to hear the wanderer's story, an hour later the family assembled in the parlor to listen to the remarkable revelation.

"Before George commences his story," said Senator Hamblin, "I must remove a crushing load from my own heart."

He then related every detail of the part he had acted in the conspiracy, taking upon himself all the odium belonging to him. He gave such a pitiful description of his terrible sufferings of mind and remorse of conscience, that all present were deeply affected. The proud man was truly humbled; his penitence, for once, was not assumed. Fully exonerating his son-in-law from the charge against his integrity, he took from his pocket two envelopes, and placed the intercepted letters in the hand of George Alden.

"I am a guilty wretch," he said, "and deserve all the execration you can heap upon my head. To save myself, I even urged my daughter to marry Walter Mannis, after all the suffering I had caused her. I have been an unnatural father. Despise me – all of you – for I deserve it."

He was utterly prostrated, and Belle, leaving the side of her husband, threw her arms about his neck, and said:

"Papa, it is all over now; let us bury the past. Cheer up; George has returned, and will forgive and assist you."

"I agree with Belle," said George. "You have had your share of suffering; let us try to forget the past, and keep our secret from the outside world. Your financial matters need not distress you further, for my fortune is ample to help us all. But the body in yonder cemetery – what can you tell us about that?"

"Nothing, for I was the victim of that deception. Ah, there has been a deeper game played than I expected."

Senator Hamblin's revelation surprised all present, but no more so than a telegram that was suddenly brought in.

It read as follows:

"Havelock, —

"Senator Hamblin: Benjamin Harris shot and killed Walter Mannis this morning. The body of Harris's daughter was found in the mill-pond, and a letter left by the unfortunate girl charged Mannis with being her betrayer."

"What a narrow escape was mine!" exclaimed Belle. The Senator's eyes sought the floor; Alden's arm encircled Belle. Then the young husband related his story, beginning at the time of the terrible accusation and telling every occurrence up to the time of his departure from Chicago for Cleverdale.

"Never did a train move so slowly as the one that bore me on my homeward journey," said he. "I dared not send a telegram – being ignorant of matters here; but as the cars neared Cleverdale two men, seating themselves directly behind me, began to talk, and from their conversation I learned a wedding was to take place that evening. When the names of the contracting parties were mentioned, my brain whirled, and for a moment reason seemed about to leave me. Then, as they spoke of the mystery and sadness enveloping the whole affair, and the deep sorrow occasioned by my supposed death, I learned of the suffering that my precious wife had experienced. In a few moments, the train stopping at Cleverdale, I alighted, and looking at my watch saw that the hour appointed for the ceremony was only five minutes later. Jumping into a carriage, I gave the driver a gold piece to drive his best. The rest you know."

"How you have suffered!" said Belle.

"Yes, we have all suffered. But now let the curtain drop upon the past. Whatever the outside world may think, the secrets of this drama must remain locked in the hearts of those present."

The narrations concluded, Senator Hamblin was apprised of Sargent's flight, but the information did not disturb him; he merely said:

"Another character gone whose presence here is not desired."

George Alden was warmly greeted by his old friends, his first appearance at the bank being the occasion for a spontaneous levée. Many crowded in and warmly grasped his hand; for it is not every day that one can shake hands with a man who is hero, dead-alive, and millionaire all in one.

The mystery surrounding the whole affair gave Cleverdale abundant opportunity for gossip. The secret marriage; the flight of George Alden; the mysterious body found in Reynolds Grove; the contemplated marriage of Belle with Walter Mannis; the prostration of the expectant bride; the wedding-party; the abrupt return of the supposed dead, and the good fortune of the latter; the sudden disappearance of Sargent, and the withdrawal of Senator Hamblin from politics, were events that stirred the gossiping clubs of Cleverdale as they never had been before. The body which had played a leading part in this story was disinterred and buried in another place.

After recovering from the excitement, George Alden held an interview with his father-in-law, and arranged to pay all his indebtedness. Senator Hamblin was to withdraw permanently from politics and retain his position as president of the bank. The astonishment of the ex-Senator was great when the financial affairs of the late Hon. Walter Mannis were shown up and that individual proved a bankrupt. The forged names of several well-known men were found on notes which Mannis had used in city banks, and among this forged paper the name of Senator Hamblin was discovered.

Belle's health being already much improved, it was thought a journey would be beneficial; and as she was desirous of seeing Mrs. Nash, a visit to Chicago was arranged, where the young couple spent several happy days. While guests of the kind woman, the wayward son returned, and there was gladness in the mother's heart when she learned that her boy had become a better man.

Belle's health returned; the roses again bloomed on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with their old-time brilliancy. Then an invitation brought George Alden's late partners to Cleverdale, and a happy reunion took place between the "Three Boys," as they were called in Colorado.

Plans were at once made for a residence on the grounds adjoining the Hamblin homestead, and a few months later a substantial and commodious residence was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. George Alden; a suite of rooms being prepared expressly for Fannie Alden.

Mrs. Hamblin saw with gladness the happiness of her children, and reoccupying the old place in her husband's affection, her joy was complete.

Later on, George Alden entered into a copartnership with others, the Cleverdale Woollen Mill was rebuilt, and the old company's great manufactory again rattled and clattered through the busy days, to the substantial delight of many who owed their lives, in a double sense, to Alden's manliness.

Time passed on, and excitement over the events of this story gradually subsided, but to this day many conjectures are indulged in, for the gossips never got at the heart of the story, and no one has yet been able to solve The Cleverdale Mystery.

CHAPTER XXXV.

EPILOGUE – THE MACHINE AND ITS WHEELS

The political incidents of this story, taken from actual life, reflect the evils of our national system. The great political machine has many cranks, and the scheming of office-seekers, the manipulations of the caucus and convention, and the tactics resorted to on election day by wire-pullers and leaders are not exaggerations.

Every public man will recognize Senator Hamblin, Ex-Assemblyman Daley, Hon. Walter Mannis, Cyrus Hart Miller, Paddy Sullivan, Editor Rawlings, and "honest" farmer Johnson, as wheels belonging to the great machine.

Senator Hamblin, ambitious, rich, bold, possessing natural gifts of oratory, is a wheel with almost absolute power. The rising generation, looking upon such men with admiration, strive to emulate their example.

Cyrus Hart Miller, bold, unscrupulous, and aggressive, is another wheel – one that moves "the boys" at caucus and on election day.

Paddy Sullivan presides over the "gin palace," and men gathering at the bar worship spirits in decanter and keg, while imbibing political opinions.

In American politics the power of such wheels is very great, and no machine is complete without them.

While it requires many wheels to work the machine, some are large, some small, but all are dangerous. Men becoming infatuated with politics, the desire to hold office leads them from paths of rectitude. They lose their hold on legitimate business, and grasping for the bubble fame, go headlong to destruction. One man may succeed in reaching the summit of his ambition, but it is by climbing over the ruins of the nine hundred and ninety-nine fallen on the highway.

The fight for spoils develops bad passions, creates schisms in parties. Faction fights in both political organizations are so full of bitterness and so empty of principle that they disgust the honest voters; yet the latter with their preponderant majority seem to be powerless to overthrow the politicians. One large wheel seems to have power to turn scores of little wheels in the great machine.

The dangers of the system have lately been exemplified in a tragedy that plunged the nation into sorrow; but while we mourn the death of a chief magistrate the politicians still continue to propel the machine. It is not to be supposed that all men engaged in political work or inspired by political ambition are bad men. On the contrary, there are thousands who are honest and honorable; politics is not only the privilege but the duty of every American citizen, and every inducement should be held out to the youth of the generations of to-day to go into politics with all the strength of their manhood. But the difficulty – as every intelligent man knows – is that caucuses and conventions and election work are left almost entirely to those who seek not patriotism but pelf; and the aim of this story is to show the natural tendency and actual results of the system as it exists to-day – to try and make it so plain that men may realize its vileness, and so to add another ounce to the weight of infamy that "the Machine" has to carry, hoping that the accumulation may at last beat it down. No partisan end is in view; it will puzzle the most expert politician to say which of the two great political parties in our land is aimed at – or rather, which is not aimed at. We all live in glass houses and cannot afford to throw stones at each other. On the other hand – to change the figure – it is sometimes wholesome to "see oursels as ithers see us" – or would see us if they could get a fair inside view. It's not a pretty picture; more's the pity. Let us try to better the original.

While the author has endeavored to briefly sketch the workings of the system, he leaves to others the task of correcting the evils resulting from "The Machine and its Wheels."