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>A^lME XL
Atlanta, Ga. r Week Ending September 20, 1902
NUMBER 7IVEN 7 Y- NINE
Bill Kimberley’s Tip...
A Tale of tbe ComstocK Lode.
By Robert Hobart Davis ^ Copyright, 1902.
rHE Honorable Bill Kimber
ley fixed his eye to the
glass, gazed long and earn
estly at a fragment of gold
quartz In the palm of hts
fat hand and leaned back tn
his chair. A gleam of the
keenest joy danced In his
eyes. He looked out of his
office window at the belch
ing smokestack of the Bee
tle, one of Virginia City's
best dividend paying mines,
and returned to fondling
the quartz specimen.
"1 guess the young lady will begin to
regard me as about the proper person to
claim her hand." he soliloquized. "The
stock ought to go to 300 a share tomorrow
morning, which means that the Honorable
Mr. Kimberley will be worth another
million.”
lb* wiped a match across his thigh aul
relighted the stump of his cigar. "When
the Stock Exchange gets onto this new
strike the shares will go kiting. In the
meantime one Kimberley, being more or
less on the inside, will gobble a few
thousand more. George!" Mr. Kimberley
addressed his voice to a screen door open
ing into the next room. A clerk ap
peared.
"Go down to Ahern, my broker, and
tell him tn buy me five thousand Beetle at
the market before the board closes. You
have got fifteen minutes. Slide!" George
rushed to the execution of his mission,
and as he had but a block to go. the
Honorable Bill Kimberley's order was m
on time.
In the meantime Kimberley was specu
lating on the importance of a trip to the
1,300-foot level of the Beetle, where the
new strike had been made. He got up
from his revolving chair and started for
tlie winding stairway' leading to the hoist
ing works on the slope bneath him.
A blast from the whistle of the speak
ing tube sounded sharp and shrill.
"Hello! What is it?” bawled the Hon
orable Bill, impatiently, shifting the tube
from his lips to his vast red ear.
"There's a party of folks over here in
the Congressman who want to go down
the mine. How about it?” came back
the answer.
"Who are they’?”
“An old woman from Frisco, a college
professor, a swell guy from New York
and Miss Ethel Gladding. She appears
to have the party in tow, particularly
the swell guy.”
The Honorable Bill Kimberley gasped
into the tube: "TiTe devil!" he mutter'd,
flecking the ashes off his cigar and gaz
ing abstractedly out of the window. “Wed,
let 'em go down. And see that they
don’t get past the 1,300-foot level." Kim a
beriey hung up the tube and hurried away
to the mouth of the Beetle shaft.
He had made up his mind what to do
with the "swell guy" the moment it came
to his cars that Miss Ethel Gladding had
him in "tow." Incidentally he was also
superintendent of the Congressman mine,
which adjoined and opened into the
Beetle.
Down deep in Bill Kimberley's heart
there was a sensation of affection for
Miss Ethel. He had craved her hand for
a long time, and based his rights to the
claim upon the flimsy fact that he was
a likely capitalist, a member of two leg
islatures and a man of considerable prom
inence in the affairs of Nevada polities
and finance.
He made his way mechanically to the
dressing room at the mouth of the mine
and donned his tarpaulin and heavy
boots. "If the girl insists on taking those
eastern dudes into the mine I'll have to
take a hand myself." said Kimberley, as
lie approached the great steel cage which,
pendant from the sheaves, quivered at
the end of the cable.
"Thirteen hundred level. Corbett." he
WAS IT "BEETLE” OR "CONTINENTAL?”
said to the starter, getting aboard. The
engineer clutched the lover, the great fly
wheels came toppling forward, and the
piteh on the cables cracked as the woven
band left the reel. The triple clang of a
great hell echoed through the hoisting
works, and Bill Kimberley dropped into
the Bottle shaft like a great spider full
ing plumb from the rafters. Down—down
—down, with the elastic cable stretching
hack to tin- square hole of light above
him. In that brief flight from daylight to
depths of the Comstock I.ode the superin
tendent of the Beetle and the Congress
man mine planned it coup that was superb
for its originality and craft.
Suddenly a shaft Of light shot up from
below and a bell tinkled. The great cage
halted in midair, and. with a gradual
movement, almost human in its mechan
ical accuracy. It halted at the edge of the
dimly-lighted chamber dotted with dull
lights and roughly clad mimts.
The underground foreman greeted the
Honorable Bill with a display of fine re
spect and the two men went, jogging
along tin' tunnel, swinging their lanterns
until tit.- long dancing shadows which
tin y cast, bobbed out of sight and the
mutter of their voices ceased to echo.
For fifteen minutes they strode in and
out of ttic labyrinth of drifts and winzes.
Kimberly had lapsed into a thoughtful
silence, peering ahead oeasionally and
holding his lantern up as though expect
ing something to come out of the unfath
omable darkness of the stony corridors.
Presently lie stopped. "Blake,” he saitjt
turning to his foreman, a few paces be
hind him. and pointing to the black
mouth of a drift, whence came the dull
echo ot picks, swung by strong and
steady arms. T wish you would go in
there and take out a diamond drill sam
ple for me. I'll rejoin you in the cooling
chamber.” Blake nodded ami turned into
the gaping wound in the quartz ledge as
Kimberly passed on.
After a time he sat his lantern down
on the sluice box through which rushed a
torrent of tepid water, and carefully
scanned the wail of the drift.
"This is the spot dividing the Beetle
and the Congressman. " he said, half
aloud. "That party ought to be along
here any moment. 1 wonder if Ethel's
friend plays the market. If he does"—
Kimberly laughed—stopped laughing,
and laughed again. As though Tor an
swer, a woman's voice rang out in re
sponse. Kimberly gathered up his lan
tern and moved forward.
Very soon four figures, accompanied by
a guide, came bobbing toward him. lie
held his lantern aloft and squinted his
eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Kimberly. I'm so glad wo
ran across you. 1 do so want my friends
to meet you.” It was Ethel Gladding
who had spoken, and with rapidity and
easy grace she presented her guests to the
Honorable Bill Kimberly, capitalist, poli
tician and manipulator.
”1 want you to be especially kind to
Mr. Watson." said Ethel to Kimberly, as
they walked along the tunnel. "lie is
an old friend of father's and "—
"Yours.” added Bill. with profound
wisdom and bluntness.
"Oh. don't talk nonsense," answered
Ethel, pushing him along. "\\ by you're
old enough to lie my father."
"Well. then, that chap is young enough
to be my son." ret irted Bill, with a futile
attempt at gayety.
"It's a pity you haven't one as good,"
came the response. "Try not to be silly.
Do you intend to be pleasant to him or
not?"
"Well." said Kimberley, with a wounded
look which the dark shadow accentuated
into an expression of actual remorse at
the proposition, ''I'll do it for your sake. ’
For an instant a sinister light came into
his eyes. He knew his own case was
hopeless. He had been told as much a
dozen times. And he allowed himself to
hate the man whose advent seemed to
give such great delight to Ethel Glad
ding.
The feeling of antipathy developed every
time ho looked at Watson's strong and
youthful face. Jt actually became ran
corous. He smothered the outward and
visible sign. Finally he Induced himself
to take Arthur by the arm in a familiar
and fatherly manner.
The party, especially the ladles and
t.he college professor, became tired and
enervated in the great heat of the mine
and sat down in one of the cross drifts
to rest.
The Honorable Bill having made good
use of his beguiling gifts and his time,
had about convinced Arthur Watson that
lie was the salt of the earth above and
bfciow the surface. He withdrew with him
to a short distance down the tunnel,
where he had first set his lantern In an
ticipation of the meeting and delivered
himself, of an apostrophe on the art of
playing the stock market.
"Ever buy in, my hoy?” he queried,
averting his gaze when Arthur looked at
nim.
"Not to speak of," said Watson. ”1
always regarded stock as the other man's
game.”
“What you need is an Inside tip."
“Yes. We all need that. But who's
to deliver it?”
"What's the matter with me letting go
of one?"
“It won't escape me if you do." said
Watson, leaning against the sluice box,
prepared for anything nfidential the
Honorable Bill had to offs*.
"Suppose I should say to you that the
stock of this mine wouid be worth at
least three hundred a share before noon
tomorrow—what would you do?"
Bill was looking far into the drift.
"It's now listed below a hundred.”
He brought himself to look Watson
square in the eyes for a second.
“I don't think I'd hesitate to buy one
thousand shares under the circumstances.
But if the market broke on me I would
be ruined. I am disposed to take your ad
vice. With the profit on such a deal I
could well afford to spend several years
here on the Comstock. If 1 lost well."
Watson shrugged his shoulders
"You heard what I said." was Kimber
ley's rejoinder. "Monday before noon
the stock of this mine wilf be listed close
to three hundred dollars a share. On
nay honor as a man you may depend
upon It."
Arthur Watson reached but and grasp
ed the reluctant hand of the Honorable
Bill Kimberley, and Ethel Gladding, who
came up at that moment with her com
panions. found tli..- two men in the at
titude of friends who had suddenly met
after years of regretfuj absence. She had
always admired BUI. But she loved Ar
thur. Therefore it was natural that she
was pleased
It was nearing the house for the visiting
party to return to the surface, and In a
short time they were hastening along the
thirteen-hundred-foot level of the Con
gressman tn take the cage back to the
upper world.
As though some nightly breath from
Herculean lungs had blown into the drift.
a!i the lanterns were suddenly ex
tinguish and a heavy pall of inkv black
ness wrapped the party In its impene
trable night
The elderly lady screamed faintly, and
the college professor began a dissertation
on the necessity for re r|fnin g- calm. The
Hon. Bill Kimberly laughed uproarious
ly and cussed a hit about counterdrafts.
".lust keep your shirts on until r get
hold of some matches." he advised.
Arthur Watson felt a small hann grasp
his arm. and with a movement that sug
gested something more than mere, protec
tion he reached out and drew Ethel to
ward him. She w as not the least bit dis
turbed because of the sudden extinguish
ing of the lanterns. She knew the mines
too well.
"Are you afraid of the darkness?"
whispered a firm masculine voice in her
ear.
For an answer she only nestled closer.
Arthur felt the locks of her hair waving
across his cheek. He k'n^tv, even in that
raven darkness, that she Was looking up
at him. He had loved her with all the
fervor of his youth for a long time, and
it struck him ns strange that during all
their acquaintance he had never held,
her in his loyal arms before. Stranger
still that his first substantial token of
her devotion should come to him I.son
feet under ground between gnardte and
quartz walls in the midst of a night that
never would be warmed by sunlight.
"Ethel.”
"Arthur.” Her voice echoed the most
subtle harmony. The Hon. Bill exploded
with a volley of abuse heaped upon all
sorts and conditions of men. He wa.'
unable to strike a light.
"Even if we never get out of here,
dearest," whispered the young lover,
steadying himself against the wait of
rock, "it would he better to die with you
in darkness than to live in the light
alone."
Ethel’s voice rang out in hearty laugh
ter at Kimberley's plight, and. taking
full Idvantage of the darkness, she clung
closer to her sweetheart.
"Ethel?"
"Yes. Arthur."
"Kimberley has told me that the stock
of the congressman would go to 300 a
share Monday before noon. I can afford
to buy 1.000 shares. If I win—if we win—
you and I, Ethel, w-ill you share it? Will
you share my prosperity? Will you let
me lay at your feet all my fortune and
my name. Ethel? Will you be my wife?
If it -were not dark I could not look into
your tender eyes and ask you to accept
one so unworthy, Ethel—"
Her hand flew to his lips to halt the al
ready completed story. Then she drew
herself up in the sombre shadows of the
CONTINUED ON THIRD PAGE.
jz? THe Hound of the BasKervilles jz?
By A. Conan Doyle, Author of 44 The Great Boer War." 44 The Green Flag," 44 The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes 44 A Study in Scarlet, " etc., etc.
CHAPTER XIII (CONCLUDED).
FT that cry of pain from the
hound had blown all our
fears to the winds. If ne
was vulnerable he was mor
tal. and If we could wound
him we could kill him.
Never have I seen a man
run as Holmes ran that
night. I am reckoned licet
of foot, but he outpaced
me as much as I outpaced
the little professional, in
front of us as we flew up
the track we heard scream
from Sir Henry and ihe
1 was In time
aft-w screat
deep roar of the hound,
to see the beast spring upon its victim,
hurl him to the ground and worry at his
throat. But the next instant Holmes had
emptied live barrels of his revolver into
the creature's flank. With a last howl
of agony and a vicious snap In the air. It
rolled upon its back, four feet pawing
furiously, and then fell 11pm upon its
side. I stooped, panting, and pressed my
pistol to the dreadful, shimmering head,
but it was useless to press the trigger.
The giant hound was dead.
Sir Henry lay insensible where he had
fallen. We tore away his collar, and
Holmes breathed a prayer of gratitude
when we saw that there was no sign of
a wound and that the rescue had been in
time. Already our friend's eyelids shiv
ered and he made a feeble effort to move.
Lestrade thrust his brandy flask between
the baronet's teeth and two frightened
eyes were looking up at us.
"My God!” he -whispered. "What was
it? What, in heaven's name, -was it?"
"It's dead, whatever It Is." said Holmes.
We've laid the family ghost once and for
ever.”
In mere size and strength it was a ter
rible creature which was lying stretched
before us. It was not a pure bloodhound
and it was not a pure mastiff; but it ap
peared to be a combination of the two-
gaunt. savage and as large as a small
lioness. Even now. in the stillness of
death, the huge jaws seemed to be drip
ping with a bluish flame and the small,
deep-set. cruel eyes were ringed with lire.
1 placed my hand upon the glowing muz
zle. and ns I held them up my own fingers
smoldered and gleamed in the darkness.
"Phosphorous," 1 said.
"A cunning preparation of it." said
Holmes, sniffing at the dead animal.
"There is no smell which might have in
terfered with his power of scent. We owe
you a deep apology. Sir Henry, for hav
ing exposed you to this fright. I was
prepared for a hound, but not for such a
creature as' this. And the fog gave tin
.: uo time to receive him.”
"You have saved my life."
"Having first endangered it. Arc you
strong enough to stand?"
"Give me another mouthful of that
brandy and I shall be ready for anything.
So! Now. if you will help me up. What
do you propose to do?”
“To leave you here. Y'ou are not lit
for further adventures tonight. If you
will wait, one or other of us will go back
with you to the Hall."
He tried to stagger to his feet, but he
was still ghasti.v pale and trembling in
every limb. We helped him to a rock,
where he sal shivering with his face
buried in his hands.
"We must leave you now,” said Holmes.
"The rest of our work must be done, and
every moment is of importance. We have
our case, and now we only want out-
man.
"It's a thousand to one against our
finding him at the house.” he continued,
as we retraced our steps swiftly down
the path. “Those shots must have told
him that the game was up.”
"\Ye were some .distance off, and this
fog may have deadened them.”
"Ilp followed the hound to call him off
—of that you may lie certain. No, no,
he’s gone by this time! But we'll search
the house and make sure."
The front door was open, so we rushed
in and hurried from room to room, to
the amazement of a doddering old ser
vant. who met us in the passage. There
was no light save in the dining room,
but Holmes caught up the lamp and left
no corner of the house unexplored. No
sign could we see of the man whom we
were chasing. On the upper floor, how
ever.' one of the bedroom doors was
locked.
"There’s some one in here," cried Len-
trade. ”1 can hear a movement. Open
this door!” ’ ?
A faint moaning and rustling came
from i within. Holmes struck the door
just over' the lock with the flat of liis
foot and it flew open. Pistol in hand,
we all three rushed into the room.
But there was no sign within it of that
desperate and defiant villain whom we
expected to see. Instead we were faced
bv an object so strange and so unexpect
ed that- we stood for a moment staring
at it in amazement.
The room had been fashioned Into a
small museum and the walls were line 1
by a number of griass-topped cases full
of that collection of butterflies and moths
the formation of which ha-6 been the re
laxation of this complex and dangerous
man. In the center of this room there
was an upright beam, which had ‘Beer,
placed at some period as a support for
the old worm-eaten balk of timber which
spanned the roof. To this post a figure
was tied, so swathed and muffled in the
sheets which had been used to secure it
that one could not for the moment tell
whether it was that of a man or a wom
an. One towel passed round the throat
and was secured at the back of the pillar.
Another covered the lower part of the
face, and over it two dark eyes—eyes full
of grief and shame and a dreadful ques
tioning—stared back at us. In a minute
we had torn off the gag. unswathed the
bonds, anil Mrs. Stapleton sank upon the
floor in front of us. As her beautiful
head fell upon her chest I saw the red
weal of a whiplash across her neck.
"•The brute!" cried Holmes. "Here, Les-
trade, your brandy bottle! Put her in
tlie chair! She has fainted from ill-usage
and exhaustion."
She opened her eyes again.
"is ha safe?" she asked. “Has he es
caped?"
"lie cannot escape us. madam.”
"No, no. I did not mean my husband.
Sir Henry? Is he safe?”
“Yes.”
“And the hound?”
"ft is dead."
She gave a-long sigh of satisfaction.
"Thank God! Thank God! Oh. -this vil
lain! See how he has Treated me!” Site
sh<it her arms out ftom her sleeves, and
we saw with horror that they were all
mottled with bruises. "But this I* noth
ing-nothing! I could endure it all. ill-
usage. solitude, a life c. deception, every
thing. as long- as I .;ould cling to tlie
hope that I had his love. but
now I know that in this also l have
been his dupe and his tool.” She broke
into passionate sobbing as she spoke.
“You bear him no good wifi, madam,"
said Holmes. “Tell us then where we
shall find him. If you have ever aided
him in evil, help us now and so atone."
“There is but one place where he can
have fled," she answered. "There Is an
old tin mine on an Island in the heart
of the Mire. It was there that he kept
his hound and there also he had made
perparattons so that he might have a
refuge. That is where he would fly."
The fog-bank lay like while wool
against the window. Holmes held the
lamp toward it.
"See." said he. "No one could find
his way into the Grimpen Mire tonight."
She laughed and clapped her hands.
Her eyes and teeth gleamed with fierce
merriment.
"He may find his way in. but never
out," she cried. “How can he see the
guiding wands tonight? We planted them
together, he and I, to mark the pathawy
through the Mire. Oh, if I could oniy
have plucked them out today. Then. In
deed, you would have had him at your
mercy!” ■ *"
It was evident to us that all pursuit
was in vain until the fog had lifted.
Meanwhile we left Lestrade in posses
sion of the house while Holmes and I
went back with the baronet to Basker-
viile Hall. The story of the Stapletons
could no longer be withheld from him,
but he took the blow bravely when he
learned the truth about the woman
whom he had loved. But the shock of
the night’s adventures had shattered his
nerves, and before morning he lay deliri
ous in a high fever, unde" the care of
Dr. Mortimer. The two of them were
destined to travel together round the
world before Sir Henry had become once
more the hale, hearty man that he had
been before he became master of -that
ill-omened estate.
And now I come rapidly to the conclu
sion of this singular narrative, in which
I have tried to make the reader share
those dark fears and vague surmises
which clouded our lives so long, and
ended in so tragic a manner. On the
morning after the death of the hound
the fog had lifted and we were guided
by Mrs. Stapleton to the point where
they had found a pathway through the
bog. It helped us to realize the horror
of this woman's life when we saw the
eagerness and joy with which she laid
us on her husband's track. We left her
standing upon the thin peninsula of firm,
peaty soil, which tapered out Into the
widespread bog. From the end of It a
small wand planted here and there showed
where the path zig-zagged from tuft to
tuft of rushes among those green-
scummed pits and foul quagmires which
barred the way to the stranger. Rank
reeds and lush, slimy water plants sent
an odor of decay and a heavy mias
matic vapor Into our faces, while a false
step plunged us more than once thigh
deep into the dark, quivering mire, who h
shook for yards in soft undulations
around our feet. Its tenacious grip
plucked at our heels as we walked, and
when we sank Into it it was as if some
malignant hand was tugging us down
into those obscene depths, so grim anil
purposeful was the clutch in which it
held us. Once only we saw a trace that
someone had passed that perilous way
before us. From amid a tuft of cotton
CONTINUED ON SEVENTH PAGE