CHAPTER XXXI.

  A REVELATION.

  The excitement over the "Three Boys" mine called many adventurers to thevicinity. Capitalists came in great numbers, and the three lucky ownerswere the lions of the hour. The fame of the new mine extending far away,the leading journals of the land were filled with graphic accounts ofthe bonanza. The owners described, men wondered who they really were,as no knowledge of whence they came could be obtained. They gave theirnames as George Howard, Ralph Waters, and Frank Bentley, and that wasall the curious ones could learn about them.

  Already, the partners had ordered improved machinery needed to work themines. The wealth of the "Three Boys" was computed at several millions,and of course the owners were abundantly able to borrow all the fundsnecessary to assist them in developing their prize. Men came forward,offering to advance all the money required and take stock in the mine,but the shrewd owners thought best to hold aloof from any connectionwith others. George Howard's thorough knowledge of banking was valuablein assisting them to obtain money from banks, so they were independentof any aid others could afford, and all the pressure of outsiders to beallowed an interest was unavailing.

  George Howard, under his assumed name, was the same methodical andhonorable man as when in the bank at Cleverdale. He was the head ofthe firm in all financial matters; his advice always resulted in theconcern's advantage. His embrowned and healthy face covered with ahandsome beard, and his eyes sparkling with all the vivacity of yore,the impression that his frank, straight-forward manner made upon allwith whom he associated was always favorable. He was thoroughly reliedupon by his companions, and when indulging in moments of despondencythey labored earnestly to restore him to good nature. A perfectgentleman, a refined and cultivated spirit, and, withal, one versed sowell in business matters, they wondered why he had become an adventurerin the wilds of Colorado. Many times the two conversed togetherconcerning their partner, yet no suspicion of wrong on his part everentered their mind. It was decided between them that a love affair andblasted affections had sent George Howard out into the world to seek hisfortune and open a new book of life. They were satisfied to accept thisexplanation, and their companion rose in their respect as they did so.

  One day a stranger appeared at the new mine, and asked many questions.He claimed to represent a wealthy banking-house in Chicago, and it wasnot long before George Howard was perfectly satisfied that the gentlemanwas all he represented himself to be. After forming the acquaintance ofthe three partners, the stranger unfolded the object of his visit, whichwas nothing less than to purchase the claim or induce the owners to opennegotiations with a view to forming a stock company. Painting a glowingpicture of the advantage to be gained by the latter plan, he assured thefirm they could realize a fortune at once.

  George Howard, not in favor of the latter plan, was not averse toselling the mine, providing the purchasers would pay enough. Althoughnot a jockey at a trade, he was shrewd enough to know the firm ownedwealth such as he had never dreamed of possessing. While assuring Mr.James of the firm's disinclination to enter into a speculation, he wouldconfer with his companions with a view to selling their claim. And theresult of the consultation was the decision to sell the mine.

  Mr. James requesting time to consult by mail with his partners, a weekafterward a letter from the bankers asked an interview with the ownersof the mine at Chicago, and three days later the four men were on theirway. For two days after their arrival the banking-house labored toinduce the miners to form a stock company, but, after exhausting theirpowers of persuasion without avail, the firm finally offered threemillion dollars for the mine. The offer was accepted, the sale sooneffected, and the young men, with a million dollars each, were happy.

  George Alden, _alias_ Howard, sat alone in his room at a hotel, and saidto himself:

  "What a change since my first visit here, one year and a half ago! ThenI was broken down in health and full of sorrow. Time has wrought manychanges in me, for to-day I am strong in both body and mind, and possessa fortune of a million dollars. But with this money I cannot obtainthe happiness I desire. My wife's cruel letter, that nearly killed me,recurs to my mind many times a day. What shall I do? I am a millionaire,but cannot return to Cleverdale to be spurned by her as if I were athief! No, I will go and see the good Mrs. Nash, tell her the storyof my life, and then seek a foreign clime, and in travel try to drivethe one great sorrow from my heart. Oh, Belle, my darling wife, howhappy we might be! Your proud father would not scorn me now on accountof financial standing. I will go this day to see Mrs. Nash, remainwith the good woman a short time, and see that her future is made morecomfortable."

  Two hours later the three partners separated, Waters and Bentley takingtrains for their destination, while George Howard went directly to theresidence of Mrs. Nash. The good woman at first did not recognize him,as he stood before her in the little parlor of her home, but afterclosely scanning his face her delight was unbounded. She had heard ofhis prosperity, but when informed of his selling his interest in themine for one million dollars, she could scarcely realize the truth ofthe assertion.

  "One million dollars!" she exclaimed. "The day of miracles has returnedto us."

  That day Alden told the motherly woman his story. He told her of hischildhood; his struggle to obtain an education; his career as salesmanin a store; and his appointment as teller in the bank. He told of thehappy weeks at Lake George, where he met the love of his heart, and thenrelated the opposition of her father. As he proceeded, Mrs. Nash becamemuch interested. He spoke of his adventure in the burning factory,describing his injuries and sufferings. He told of his long illness, andthe secret marriage, and when he described the happy days following,he could scarcely control his emotion. He told of the parting betweenhis wife and himself; the false accusations against his honor, his weakcondition causing him to flee from home and friends, and then he relatedthe particulars of his flight and the cruel letter. Suddenly Mrs. Nasharose excitedly, and asked:

  "What is your rightful name?"

  "Alden--George Alden."

  "George Alden? And was Cleverdale the place you fled from?"

  "Yes; but you are agitated; what--what is it?"

  "There has been a great mistake somewhere. You are mourned as dead."

  "My God! Mrs. Nash, what do you mean?" exclaimed George. "_I_ mourned asdead?"

  "Yes, wait here a moment. I have a paper containing full particulars.Your poor wife could never have written that letter. But I will get thepaper."

  A moment later she returned. Greatly excited, Alden seized thenewspaper, which bore date of a year and a half previous. His eyes fellupon a marked article, which read as follows:

  "A SAD TRAGEDY.

  [From the Cleverdale, N. Y., _Investigator_.]

  "We are called upon to chronicle one of the saddest tragedies that ever occurred in this locality. The facts of the case are as follows: Last fall the Cleverdale Woollen Mill was destroyed by fire, and one of the bravest and noblest acts of the age was performed by George Alden, cashier of the Cleverdale National Bank. The immense factory employed seven hundred men, women, and children, and, as the flames burst forth, one hundred and fifty persons on the third floor were cut off from escape, except by the way of two doors only reached by running a gauntlet of fire. Poor Alden succeeded in relieving the captives, but his bravery nearly cost him his life; for several months he languished on a bed of suffering, and approached the door of eternity. Kind attention and skilful treatment brought him up, but the sad catastrophe left him weak in mind and body. His lifeless form was found on Friday last, in Reynolds Grove, a bullet-hole in the brain and a pistol lying at the side of the unfortunate man telling too plainly of his death by suicide."

  George Alden paused a moment to calm his agitation, and then proceeded:

  "The body was horribly decomposed, the face being unrecognizable, the clothing alone proving the identity of the poor f
ellow.

  "It was a sad ending of a noble life, and never did a community mourn for one of its citizens as the people of Cleverdale mourn for poor George Alden. Two women in this affliction are entitled to our deepest sympathy. His sister has lost the companion of her life, while the beautiful daughter of Senator Hamblin is utterly prostrated by the sad event. George Alden was an estimable young man, and the love and respect of the whole community was shown when all business was suspended to allow a public demonstration of sorrow at the grave of Cleverdale's hero."

  Alden dropped the paper and exclaimed, "Oh, my poor wife! how I havewronged you! But who are the villains who have done this? I have beenthe victim of a wicked conspiracy. To-night I will leave for Cleverdale.I must go at once, for I have deeply wronged my wife. But perhaps she isdead! Oh no, she _must_ be alive, and her father will not turn me offnow."

  Making immediate preparations to leave Chicago, he presented his kindfriend with a generous sum of money, promising to write her on hisarrival at Cleverdale. That night he was on a train bound for the East.He remembered how full of sorrow he was when he arrived in the city,eighteen months previous. Now he was returning to his home and kindred,unconscious of the events going forward at Cleverdale to rob him of hiswife.

  His first thought was to telegraph his friends, informing them of hiscoming, but he finally concluded to hasten on and verify his existencein the flesh by his own person and with his own lips.