CHAPTER XX.
EXIT PERRY JOUNCE.
It was a triumphant expression that fell from the lips of the disguisedBarkswell as he saw his enemy plunge headlong into the gulf of boilingwaters.
Making his way to the edge of the water the villain gazed long andearnestly at the seething foam, but no sign of the body of his rival wasto be seen. The night was extremely dark, and this might have preventedhis seeing the corpse.
"Well, there's no use standing here," muttered the man. "I am satisfiedthat the body of August Bordine'll be found water-logged some day, andthat will end the hunt for the assassin of Victoria Vane. It is just aswell, and will give me the better chance to walk into the affections ofMiss Alstine. I hear that her father will soon return. I must completethe work by a marriage before that. It was a confounded mean affair, thatmeeting in the garden. I suppose it'll require a good deal of shrewdlying to convince Rose that that woman was not my wife."
Then the villain walked back to the little shanty.
A light still burned within.
Barkswell paused at the door.
On the floor sat Perry Jounce, wiping the blood from his face with adirty handkerchief.
"Well, Perry, that came mighty near proving a finisher for you," said.Mr. Barkswell with a provoking smile.
"Wal, I should remark. And you'd a ben glad on't. I ain't goin' ter dieyet awhile, pardner. Do you know why?"
The ex-tramp seemed cool enough under the circumstances.
"Explain, Perry."
"I'm goin' to live to see you hang."
"Now, now, old boy, that's unkind."
"Jest the same it's true."
"I really hope not."
"I had my fortune told once."
"Indeed."
"The dumdest lookin' old critter in York told it."
"Well?"
"She gin me a good yarn, one that I'm thinkin's going to come true."
"Why do you think so? I supposed you were above superstition, Mr.Jounce."
"So I be, but sence a part of the prophecy has come true, why shouldn'tthe rest?"
"Sure enough."
"You agree with me there?"
"Certainly."
"Then I'll tell you the rest on't, though its sometimes made my blood runcold when I think on't," proceeded the tramp, looking up into the face ofhis companion, with blood-stained countenance, and eyes that were soddenwith pain and passion. He looked like some prisoner of state doomed tothe martyr's stake, as he sat there in the dim light and talked in asolemn monotone that was weird and unnatural.
"The old witch said I was to meet with many misfortunes, pass a dreadfulcrisis, and then come out with flying colors.
"But I'm a gittin' ahead of my story. My sister--I had but one--was tomake a mismatch with a gambler and outlaw. He was to cause her and me aheap o' trouble. Finally the husban' was ter plot ter put his wife outenthe way so't he could git another gal with a big fortune."
"Nonsense."
"Don't interrupt me," growled the tramp. "I'm jest a tellin' what thefortune-teller said; 'tain't none o' my gammon."
"Go on."
A smile curled the lip of Barkswell.
"Wal, thar ain't a half more to tell. This chap, my sister's husban', waswishin' to get rid of his wife, but in makin' the attempt he ruinedhimself, and I was ter see the chap hung fur the murder."
"Then he _does_ succeed."
The keen eyes of Barkswell regarded the man before him fixedly,penetratingly.
"No!" hissed the tramp.
"Men do not hang for attempting murder."
"Don't they? Pardner, let me tell you that you won't live arter you_attempt_ to murder Iris."
"What do you mean?"
"I know ye, Andy Barkswell--know what yer scheming brain hez concocted.Not content wi' puttin' poor Vict'ry Vane out o' the world, you hevplanned ter kill my sister, yer true and lawful wife. I'll watch ye thar,hossfly--"
"Scoundrel!"
With the exclamation, Barkswell leaped with the fury of a tiger at thethroat of the stalwart tramp.
The hour had come for a complete triumph or none.
"Murder!"
This was the cry that escaped the lips of the wounded tramp.
Well might he give utterance to the cry.
There was murder gleaming in the lurid eyes of the villain, Barkswell.
Although Perry Jounce was weak from the effects of the shot that hadplowed a furrow through his scalp, his assailant did not permit him tohave a fair show.
The tramp had been very indiscreet in telling what he did to his wickedbrother-in-law.
"Mercy!" finally gasped Jounce, when he found that he had not strengthsufficient to combat the man who was at his throat with murderous intent.
"You shall not live to thwart me, Perry Jounce," hissed Barkswell, as hepressed his companion in crime to the floor, and crushed his knee downupon his breast.
"Mercy!" again gasped Jounce.
"No. You would grant none to me. It would not be safe for me to permityou to live."
"But, hasn't I did my duty by you, pardner? Ef't hadn't been fur me SileKeene wouldn't a went under," uttered the helpless tramp, pleadingly.
There was no mercy in the heart of Andrew Barkswell, however. Jounce knewtoo much and was disposed to be dangerous, so he did not scruple to puthim out of the way.
"Not a word, scoundrel," growled Barkswell, and with the words he drew aclasp knife from an inner pocket.
Again the fallen wretch gasped for mercy.
"You butted against the wrong man, Perry Jounce," muttered Barkswell,"when you attempted to frighten me from my plans. What is your life tome? No more than _his_, than that woman's. You must die."
The point of the knife touched the heaving bosom of the tramp, above theheart.
"Mercy! Spare me, brother--!"
The words were cut short by a quick movement on the part of Barkswell. Hehad sent the knife to the hilt in the bosom of the tramp.
"There, that ends your career," and with the words the young villain cameto his feet.
He stood back with folded arms and watched the dying convulsions of hisvictim.
Soon the huge form lay quiet, the strong limbs stiffened in death.
A smile played on the features of Barkswell. Nevertheless his face waspale and drawn, and his breath came in short, hot gasps. It was noordinary thing to take the life of a human being, much less to perpetratethe deed in cold blood.
"Now then the body must be disposed of," muttered Barkswell. "I cannotpermit it to lay here."
He moved about and lifted a small trap in the floor. Through this hetumbled the body, and taking the candle, towered himself into a small,damp cellar.
It was a gloomy place.
The murderer must needs labor here for a time, however.
The ground was soft, and procuring a barrel-stave, the homicide went atthe labor of digging a grave for his victim.
This work consumed some time. It was accomplished at length, however, andthe body of the tramp tumbled in.
Slowly the man heaped the loose sand above the breast of his victim. Whenit was level full he stamped it down with his feet, and then heaped onmore of the dirt.
His light sputtered and grew dim, threatening to go out.
It was not a pleasant thought, the one of being left alone in the darkthere, with the blood of his victim trickling through the floor upon him.
"Mercy! what a dismal place. I must get out of this instanter, and--whatwas that?"
The sound of a step creaking on the floor above!
An awful horror took complete possession of Barkswell at that moment. Hedared not look up at the opening through which he had passed, fearing, heknew not what.
His first thought was to extinguish the light.
He snatched it from the wall, and then, in spite of his terror, he casthis eyes upward. A face, white and ghostly, peered down upon him, a pairof flaming eyes burning
into his very soul. With a wild cry Barkswellflung down the light, and fell fainting across the grave of his murderedvictim.