CHAPTER LIII.
JOHN AINSWORTH'S STORY.
The Chief of the detectives was now furnished with ample food forthought, but the opportunity for meditation seemed remote.
While he sat pondering over the discovery of Carnegie and Sanford, twovisitors were announced: Walter Parks, the English patron of Stanhopeand Vernet, and John Ainsworth, the returned Australian.
An accident of travel had thrown these two together, almost at themoment when one was landing from, and the other about to embark for,Australia. And the name of John Ainsworth, boldly displayed upon somebaggage just set on shore, had put Walter Parks on the scent of itsowner. The two men were not slow in understanding each other.
As they now sat in the presence of the Chief, these two men with facesfull of earnestness and strength, he mentally pronounced them finespecimens of bronzed and bearded middle age.
Walter Parks was tall and athletic, without one ounce of flesh to spare:with dark features, habitually stern in their expression; a firm chin,and well-developed upper cranium, that made it easy for one tocomprehend how naturally and obstinately the man might cling to an idea,or continue a search, for more than twice twenty years; and howimpossible it would be for him to abandon the one or lose his enthusiasmfor the other.
John Ainsworth was cast in a different mould. Less tall than theEnglishman, and of fuller proportions, his face was not wanting instrength, but it lacked the rugged outlines that distinguished the faceof the other; his once fair hair was almost white, and his regularfeatures wore a look of habitual melancholy. It was the face of a manwho, having lost some great good out of his life, can never forget whatthat life might have been, had this good gift remained.
"I received your letter," the Chief said, after a brief exchange offormalities, "but I failed to understand it, Mr. Parks, and was finallyforced to conclude that you may have written a previous one--"
"I did," interrupted the Englishman.
"Which I never received," finished the Chief. "I supposed you voyagingtoward Australia, if not already there."
"I wrote first," said Walter Parks, "to notify you of our accidentalmeeting, and that we would set out immediately for this city. And Iwrote again to tell you of Mr. Ainsworth's sudden illness, and ournecessary delay."
"Those two letters I never saw."
"I shall be sorry for that," broke in John Ainsworth, "if their losswill cause us delay, or you inconvenience."
"The non-arrival of those two letters has made the third something of ariddle to me," said the Chief. "But that being now solved, I think nofurther mischief has been or will be done."
Then followed further explanations concerning the meeting of the two,and John Ainsworth's fever, which, following his ocean voyage, made adelay in San Francisco necessary.
"It was a tedious illness to me;" said the Australian. "Short as it was,it seemed never-ending."
And then, at the request of the Chief, John Ainsworth told his story:briefly, but with sufficient clearness.
"I was a young man," he said, "and filled with the spirit of adventure,when I went West, taking my youthful wife with me. It was a hard lifefor a woman; but it was her wish to go and, indeed, I would have lefther behind me very unwillingly. We prospered in the mining country. Mywife enjoyed the novelty of our new life, and we began to gather aboutus the comforts of a home. Then little Lea was born."
He paused a moment and sighed heavily.
"My wife was never well again. She drooped and faded. When Lea was sixmonths old, she died, and I buried her at the foot of her favoritemountain. I put my baby into the care of one of the women of thesettlement--it was the best I could do,--and I lived on as I might. Butthe place grew hateful to me. There was one man among the rest whosefriendship I prized, and after the loss of my wife I clung to him as ifhe were of my own blood. His name was Arthur Pearson."
Again the narrator paused, and the eyes of the two listenersinstinctively sought each other.
"Pearson was younger than I, and was never rugged like most of the menwho lived that wild life. And after a time I saw that he, too, wasfailing. He grew thin and began to cough dismally. Pearson was very fondof my baby girl; and sometimes we would sit and talk of her future, andwish her away from that place, where she must grow up without theknowledge and graces of refined civilization.
"As Pearson became worse, he began to talk of going back to the States,and much as I would miss him, I strongly advised him to go. At last whenhe had fully decided to do so, he made me a proposition: If I wouldtrust my baby to him, he would take her back and put her in the care ofmy sister, who had no children of her own, and who was just the one tomake of little Lea all that a woman should be. I knew how gladly shewould watch over my daughter, and after I had thought upon the matter, Idecided to send Lea to her, under the guardianship of Pearson. As I lookback, I can see my selfishness. I should have gone with Arthur and thechild. But my grief was too fresh; I could not bear to turn my facehomeward alone. I wanted change and absorbing occupation, and I hadalready decided to dispose of my mining interest, and go to Australia.
"I found a nurse for my baby girl; a woman in our little community, whohad lost her husband in a mine explosion a few months before. She wasglad of an opportunity to return to her friends, and I felt sure that Icould trust her with Lea. So they set out for the East, and I madepreparations for my journey, while waiting to hear that Pearson and thetrain were safely beyond the mountains and most dangerous passes.
"They had been gone some two weeks when a train came in from the East,and among them was Mrs. Marsh, the nurse. The two trains had met justbeyond the range, and Mrs. Marsh had found among the emigrants some ofher friends and towns-people. The attraction was strong enough to causeher to turn about, and I may as well dispose of her at once by sayingthat she shortly after married one of her new-found friends.
"She told me that Pearson had joined a train which crossed their trailthe morning after the meeting of the first two parties, and before theyhad broken camp. This train was going through by the shortest route, asfast as possible; and Pearson had found among the women one who wouldtake charge of little Lea. She brought me a letter from him."
"Did you preserve the letter?" interrupted the Chief.
"I did; it has never been out of my possession, for it was the last Iever heard of Pearson or my little Lea, until--" He paused and glancedtoward the Englishman.
"Until you met Mr. Parks?" supplemented the Chief.
"Yes."
"I should like to see that letter," said the Chief.
The Australian took from his breast an ample packet, and from itscontents extracted a worn and faded paper. As he handed it to the Chiefthere was a touch of pathos in his voice.
"It is more than twenty years old," he said.
The writing was in a delicate, scholarly hand, much faded, yet legible.
DEAR AINSWORTH
I suppose Mrs. Marsh has made you acquainted with her reasons for changing her plans. It remains for me to inform you of mine.
Our train, as you know, is not precisely select, and as we advance towards "God's Country" the roystering ones become a little too reckless for my quiet taste. The train from the North is led by one Walter Parks, an Englishman, of whom I know a little, and that little all in his favor. The others are quiet, sturdy fellows, of the sort I like. The woman who will care for little Lea is a Mrs. Krutzer; a very good woman she seems. She is going East with her husband, who has the rheumatism and, so they tell me, a decided objection to hard labor. She has a little boy, some six years older than Lea, and she seems glad to earn something by watching over our pet.
We are almost out of the "Danger Country." There is little to dread between this and the Marais des Cygnes, and once we have crossed that, there will be nothing to fear from the Indians. Still, to make little Lea's safety doubly sure, I shall at once tell Mrs. Krutzer her history, and give her instructions how to fi
nd Lea's relatives should some calamity overtake me before the journey ends.
I will at once put into Mrs. Krutzer's hands your letter to your sister, together with the packet, and money enough to carry her to her destination. Having done this, I can only watch over the little one as you would, were you here, and trust the rest to a merciful Providence.
May your Australian venture prosper! I will write you there; and may the good God have us all in his keeping!
Yours as ever,
A. PEARSON.
This was the letter that the Chief perused with a face of unusualgravity; and then he asked, as he laid it down:
"And your child: you have never heard of her since?"
"Never. I was always a poor correspondent, but I wrote many letters tomy sister, to her husband, and to Pearson. They were not answered. TheUlimans were rising people, and they had left their old residence, nodoubt. So I reasoned, and I worked on. After a time I was sick--a longtedious illness. When I recovered, and asked for letters, they told methat during my illness some had arrived, and had been lost or mislaid.Then I assured myself that these were from Pearson and my sister; thatmy little one was safe; and I settled down to my new life. Every year Iplanned a return, and every year I waited until the next, in order totake with me a larger fortune for little Lea. I became selfishlyabsorbed in money-getting. Then, as years went by, and I knew my girlwas budding into womanhood, I longed anew for tidings of her. I wroteagain, and again; and then I set my lawyer at the task. He wrote, and headvertised; and at last I settled my affairs out there and started forthe United States. An advertisement, asking news of Pearson or LeaAinsworth, was sent to a city paper only a week before I sailed, and itwas this that caught the eye of Mr. Parks here."
Again the Chief and Walter Parks exchanged glances, and John Ainsworthrose slowly to his feet.
"Sir," he said in a husky voice, "Mr. Parks has offered a fortune to theman who discovers the slayer of Arthur Pearson. I offer no less for therecovery of my child."
The Chief shook his head.
"That search," he said, "like the other, must cover twenty years."
"To begin," said the Australian, "we must find the Ulimans."
"Who?"
"The Ulimans; my sister was the wife of Thomas Uliman."
"Oh!" said the Chief, and then he leaned forward and touched the bell.
"Send Sanford in," he said to the boy who appeared in the doorway.
In another moment Sanford stood before them.
"Sanford," said his Chief, "Thomas Uliman and wife, residents heretwenty years ago, are to be found. Have the records searched, and ifnecessary take other steps. Stop: what was the calling of this ThomasUliman?"
"Merchant," said John Ainsworth.
Sanford started suddenly, and lifted one hand to his mouth.
"I wonder--" he began, and then checked himself, bowed, and turnedtoward the door. "Had this gentleman a middle name?" he asked, with hishand upon the latch.
"Yes; it was R., I believe; Thomas R. Uliman," replied the Australian.
Sanford bowed again and went out quietly. Then Mr. Ainsworth turnedtoward the Chief.
"You have a system?" he queried.
"Yes; a very simple and effectual one. We keep the census reports, thedirectories, and a death record. When these fail, we have otherresources; but we usually get at least a clue from these books. Thispart of the work is simple enough. By to-morrow I think we can give yousome information about Thomas Uliman."
There was a moment's silence, then Walter Parks leaned forward:
"Have you anything to tell me concerning my two detectives?" he asked.
"Stanhope and Vernet? Well, not much; but I expect a report from Vernetat any moment. We will have that also to-morrow."