: The phantom hunter; or love after death by Ellis Edward Sylvester - Western stories; Detective and mystery stories; Guardian and ward Fiction; False imprisonment Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life Fiction; Kentucky Fiction; Attempted murder Fiction; Dime n

@FreeBooksThu 08 Jun, 2023

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Young Trafford did not wait for them to recover the use of their tongues, but embraced the opportunity their silence afforded to explain to them the mystery. Lifting his rich, manly voice, he began to speak.

"Friends," he said, "I disclose myself to you to-day, knowing that I am at last out of danger, and once more free to take up my abode among you, in my own name and guise. Until this hour you have supposed me guilty of the murder of my uncle, and also thought you put me to death for the same. I am still alive, as you see. You are struck dumb with amazement, but I will explain all to you in a very short time. I am not a spirit, nor am I other than he whom I now seem to be. I am Russell Trafford, in the full possession of my health. After my conviction and sentence, you all know that I was locked up in the block-house, there to be in durance vile until the day set apart for my execution. Some of you know, likewise, that during my imprisonment, Kirby Kidd, and Wapawah came to the block-house and asked the privilege of a private interview with me. Their request was readily complied with, and the two scouts were shown into my cell. As soon as they were left alone with me, they announced their intention to save my life, if it could possibly be done by artifice. Of course this was wholly unexpected to me, and, at first, I was inclined to be incredulous. But they assured me it was no jest; they had consulted and decided, and they had determined to save me if it lay in their power to do so. Kidd declared that he would not have lifted a hand in my favor, had he thought for a moment that I was the real perpetrator of the crime; but he could not believe me guilty, and knew he was doing right in case I was innocent. He told me his services had already been solicited and engaged for executioner, and that that was vastly in our favor.

"It is needless to tell you that this plan worked to a charm, for my presence here to-day proves that it did. You will remember that it was Kirby Kidd who proposed using a death-cap, and that he furnished the article himself without consulting any one. This was to conceal my face at the last moment, so that its very lifelike appearance would not betray the ungenuineness of my death-struggles. At the time you thought the last breath was forced from my body, I was suspended in comparative ease, and was breathing as freely as any of you. Pretending to fear that the mob would visit some foul indignity upon my body during the night that followed, Kirby Kidd and Wapawah obtained permission to take charge of the supposed corpse, and guard it until the next day. In the dead hours of night we filled the coffin with a heavy stick of timber and some dirt, and fastened the lid securely over them. Next day the funeral services were performed over this stick of wood, with great solemnity, and almost the entire population of our village followed these remains to their last resting-place! I was kept closely hidden until my two friends procured me the disguise which I have just cast off. On the third day after my would-be execution, I made my appearance among you in the character of a Yankee clock-peddler. I went to the house of Mr. Moreland on that same day, and, finding Isabel alone, I disclosed my identity to her, and explained all. I did not deem it safe to impart the secret to her parents, though I think they had faith in my innocence.

"Isabel promised to meet me that night out in the glade where they had made the grave for me. There I could lay aside my disguise and meet her as of old. At a pretty late hour I repaired to the appointed place, accompanied by Kidd, Wapawah and Robbins, who were to keep watch, and warn us if anybody should chance to come that way during the few short moments of our tryst. These three men stationed themselves in the edge of the woods, while Isabel and I stood by the new-made grave and conversed. It seems that this fellow, McCabe, was hanging about the place at the same time. How he approached without attracting the attention of the guards it is impossible to tell, but he did it somehow or other, unless he was there before our arrival. The first intimation we had of his presence was a loud oath, followed by a vow that somebody should die if he had a hundred lives! I presume the "somebody" was myself, for the next instant he came bounding toward me with pistol in hand. Kirby Kidd was too quick for him, however, and caught him by the collar before mischief could be done. While the scouts claimed his attention, the lady and I quickly ensconced ourselves in a large hollow tree that stood near by, and after trying to make him believe he had seen nothing, they let him depart. We continued our meetings there night after night. I knew the nature of McCabe too well to believe that he would subject himself to ridicule by asserting that he had seen Russell Trafford, when everybody would have sworn that I was dead. So we did not change our trysting-place. Sometimes the three hunters would accompany us, but they were often absent from the fort and could not.

"We did not know that anybody besides McCabe ever saw us there together, but you all know that a report got afloat that Isabel was meeting a stranger in the woods almost every night. Isabel herself was ignorant of the existence of this report until the very last moment, on the evening that she was to be taken away from her home. Noble and self-sacrificing as ever, she suffered herself to be traduced rather than betray me. That night, after the Morelands had gone to the river to embark on their brief voyage, Isabel returned to the house on pretense of having forgotten some small article. Her object in thus deceiving her parents was to keep her appointment with me, and to tell me that she was going away--which she did. But it so fell out that McCabe was again lurking about the glade that evening, and he saw us as we sat side by side on the grave. He discharged a rifle at us, but the ball went wide of the mark, and, under cover of the smoke, we ran to the hollow tree that stands on the edge of the glade, and hastily concealed ourselves in its ample cavity. He searched for us for some time, but in vain. For fear he would find us, I quickly donned my disguise and went forth from my hiding-place, to throw him off the track. As Jonathan Boggs I confronted him, and made him believe they were imaginary beings he had seen. When he was gone Isabel joined me, and together we went to the river where her parents were awaiting her. I obtained permission to make one of the emigrant-party, and that is all I have to tell."

For a moment after this explanation was ended that deep silence continued. Then Mrs. Moreland clasped her wronged daughter in her arms and began to weep hysterically, while the former friends of the noble girl went forward to crave her pardon, and offer her their congratulations.

This was but a signal for the men. In an instant cheer after cheer rent the air, and the hardy settlers rushed forward in a body. Lifting Russell Trafford upon their shoulders, they bore him round the spot with shouts of joy, and the wildest confusion reigned. A great many, among whom was Mr. Moreland, shook the hands of Kirby Kidd, Nick Robbins and the Wyandott until the arms of the three champions ached from wrist to shoulder.

The tumult soon subsided. Then Russell, after thanking all for their manifestations of renewed friendship, joined the Moreland family and received the blessings of his future parents-in-law. Isabel was once more smiling and happy, and among those who had looked upon her with scorn a few days before, not one asked her forgiveness in vain. Her dark, luminous eyes beamed with unutterable love and tenderness upon her affianced husband, and the rich color stained her beautiful face and neck as he drew her arm through his, and began to walk up and down in the background.

As soon as an opportunity offered, Nick Robbins stepped forward to address the people. All guessed at once that he had something of importance to say, though none could imagine what it was. Every tongue was hushed, and every ear opened, as the grim old hunter took his position. He gazed blankly at his audience for a moment, and then began to speak.

"I ain't got much to say," he said, leaning on his rifle, "but I reckon ye won't 'spect much from sech as me. I'm goin' to open yer peepers ag'in, same as the young feller did. I don't like to see ye surprised so powerful bad, but then I calc'late the shock'll be a leetle milder this time, 'cause yer gittin' used to it. Prepare yerselves now to see somethin' wonderful, an' don't git it into yer noddles 'ut yer in fairy land, or any sech outlandish place."

As he uttered the last words he dropped his gun, and straightened up. To the astonishment of the lookers-on he then snatched off his coon-skin cap, together with a wig of long hair and the bandage that had covered his eye! Next he removed the patch from his cheek, the coarse red beard from his chin, and then he quickly threw off his buck-skin garments.

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

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