The Rose in the Ring Part 31

A curious acknowledgment of his own degradation came with the stealthy impulse to go back later on and search for the stub of cigar that had dropped from his mouth during the encounter.

In the dressing-tent, a few minutes after the proprietor's brutal exhibition, David Jenison sat in the center of a wondering, superst.i.tious group. Not one, but nearly all of them attributed his good fortune to the working of some spell peculiarly brought about by the influence of certain "signs." The champion bareback rider recalled that David had found a horseshoe no longer ago than ten days. The Iron-jawed woman subst.i.tuted the black cat charm, while Mademoiselle Denise held out for the virtues of occasional encounters with Ernie Cronk, the hunchback, whose hump he must have touched surrept.i.tiously, no doubt.

Only Joey and Ruby and Casey looked wise and said nothing. d.i.c.k was the luck-piece that brought it all about.

David sat on a trunk, holding a wet towel to his red, swollen cheek. He had been steadied by the advice of these good friends, all of whom urged him for the sake of others to attempt no violent return for the blow Braddock had given him. Never was mortal so sore at heart as he, but he read wisdom in their argument.

"He ain't responsible," said Joey, putting the whole of his summing up in a single phrase.

The great news had finally found a clear lodgment in David's brain. He had listened to the reading of the newspaper story by Ruby Noakes. It was now very plain to him that his present vicissitudes were at an end.

The joy and relief that filled his soul were counterbalanced to some extent by the fact that Mrs. Braddock and Christine had not come up to congratulate him. He could not understand this and was hurt.

It is not necessary to repeat the newspaper account in full. The sensational story took up columns in the paper; the history of the case was repeated from the murder of old Mr. Jenison to the final tragedy.

Considerable s.p.a.ce and speculation were given to the unhappy accusation of the grandson, who had disappeared as if from the face of the earth.

It was the opinion of the paper, as well as of the officers of the law, that the proud young man, unable to face the cruel disgrace and injustice, had made way with himself.

It was announced in heavy black type that his county would not rest until the body of the last of the Jenisons was found and laid away with the greatest ceremony. David laughed with the others at this laudable but tardy appreciation.

As for the story of Frank Jenison's death, it was, according to the newspaper, "so strange that fiction paled by contrast." Jenison and his negro accomplice, Isaac Perry, had quarreled in one of the private card-rooms at Brainard's place in Richmond, where they had met by appointment. The negro, driven desperate and in great fear of the white man, finally drew a revolver and began firing wildly at his employer, who returned the shots. Perry was killed by a bullet which found his heart. One of the negro's shots, however, had penetrated the abdomen of Frank Jenison. He was mortally wounded. On being informed by the surgeons that he had but a few hours to live, the miserable wretch directed that his confession be written out at his dictation, that he might put his signature to it and thereby set his unhappy nephew straight in the eyes of a condemning world.

The full text of this confession was printed. The reader of this tale has heard enough of it, in one way or another, to determine for himself the chief facts in connection with the murder of old Mr. Jenison. It was Frank Jenison who shot him, deliberately laying his plans so as to direct suspicion to David. The nephew played into his hands in a most startling manner. A more convincing set of circ.u.mstances could not have been imagined, much less prepared.

Isaac Perry was the first to propose the plan of subst.i.tuting a forged will, but at the time neither of them contemplated the a.s.sa.s.sination of the old gentleman. It was not until it became known to them that Mr.

Jenison intended to deed over a great part of his estate to David before his own death that they saw the necessity for hastening the end.

The will was prepared in Perry's room at Richmond. The names of the witnesses belonged to men who were dead and could not repudiate the signatures. Then came the signing of the quitclaim deed which provided an opportunity to subst.i.tute the will, and which, as far as Isaac Perry was concerned, was a _bona fide_ transaction. The little plot of ground was in truth a portion of his own compensation exacted in advance of the murder.

Perry was to have done the shooting. At the last minute his nerve failed him. Frank Jenison then coolly directed his henchman to stand guard while he committed the diabolical deed. To use his dying words, his father "was ready to die anyway, so it was a kindness to end life suddenly for him."

We know how David walked into the trap, and how he crept out of it only to become an outlaw, hunted and execrated. Perry went to Chicago, where he was to remain for a few months before coming back to receive his promised share of the money which Jenison was to realize on the sale of certain properties as soon as he was clearly established as heir to the estate.

Remorse began to gnaw at the heart of the murderer. He could not sleep without dreaming of his slain father, nor could he spend a waking hour that was free from thoughts of the innocent boy who would be hanged if the law laid its hands upon him.

Then, one day, there came a stranger who told him of Isaac Perry's treachery. The thing he feared had come to pa.s.s--Perry's defection. He made up his mind to kill this dreaded stranger, and to follow that deed with another of the same sort which would deliver him of Isaac Perry.

But the stranger disappeared. He did not come to claim his blood money.

The terror which fell upon Frank Jenison was overpowering. He sent for Isaac Perry, hoping against hope that the stranger had lied and that with the negro's support he could defy him. Perry came to Richmond, expecting to receive his promised reward in coin of the realm. The half-crazed white man accused him of treachery. The negro lawyer vehemently denied every allegation, but, becoming alarmed by the other's manner, fell into a panic of fear and began shooting.

At the end of his confession, Frank Jenison said:

"My soul is black. It is already charred by the fires of h.e.l.l. I was a traitor to our beloved cause, although acquitted of the charge by fraud and deception. I killed my own father. I would have killed others. My nephew has long borne the stain of guilt that is going with me to a dishonored grave. I go with the brand of Cain on my soul. There will be no rest for me in the hereafter. I have not the courage to ask G.o.d to be merciful. But I believe in G.o.d. I have tried not to believe in him.

I have denied him all my life. To-day, for the first time in memory, I can say--and it is with my last breath--I can say that I thank G.o.d for one great act of mercy. He has permitted me to live long enough, with this bullet in me, to say to the world that my nephew, David Jenison, is as innocent as I am guilty."

"Well," said Grinaldi the clown, his voice doleful in contrast to the cheery smile he a.s.sumed, when it came time for all to go to the cook-tent for dinner, "I dessay we'll 'ave to stop calling you Jack Snipe. Wot's more, David, you'll be going back to Virginia at once and settling down to be a genuine gentleman. Afore you think of going, my lad, let it be fully impressed in your 'eart that we all love you and we all wish you the greatest 'appiness in the world. You 'ave been a very poor clown, but I dessay 't is more the fault of your bringing up than anything else. A clown 'as to be born, David, just the same as any other genius. I suppose it's too soon yet to talk about your plans--wot you intend to do fust."

"First of all, Joey," said David, his face aglow with the fervor that was crowding up from the depths of his grateful soul, "I want to say to you and to all of you, that if I live to be a thousand years old I shall never forget how good and how kind you have been to me. My home will always be yours, my friends, just as your home has been mine.

Jenison Hall will bid you welcome, come what may. You will find Joey Grinaldi there. My home is his, when he chooses to forsake the ring.

And Ruby's, too. G.o.d bless and reward all of you!"

"When are you going to leave us, David?" asked one of the women.

David put his finger to the bruised spot on his cheek.

"My career as a clown in Van Slye's show ended when that blow was struck. You know quite well that I could not have stayed after that, even though other conditions were unchanged. I cannot eat of that man's bread; I cannot serve him. I have no trunk to pack, you know. Just that old satchel of Joey's, in which my linen is carried. So I am walking out of this tent now, free in more ways than one. When I come again I shall pay my way at the main entrance. No! Don't ask me to go to the cook-tent! It is impossible. As for my plans, I--"

He stopped, stilled by a sudden, overwhelming sense of desolation. All this meant that he would have to leave Christine! His days with the show were over. His sweet, throbbing hours with her were at an end.

Life for him had changed as with the blinking of an eye. Nothing could be the same. All the loneliness of despair he had known during those weeks of fear and trembling was as naught compared to the outlook that now confronted him, so bleak and so barren that his young soul sickened. For the moment it seemed to him that she was about to go out of his life forever.

His heart revolted. There surged up the fierce impulse to cast away his patrimony, his name, his pride and honor. He would not desert her, even for a day.

"As for my plans," he began once more, and again stopped.

Joey understood the struggle that was going on within him. The old clown, in his own capricious life, had been called upon a hundred times to give up the things he loved, the a.s.sociations he cherished.

"We'll talk 'em over later on, David," he said, putting his arm over the boy's shoulder. "Come along with me and Ruby. We'll go to a restaurant and 'ave a bite together. I--I suppose you'll be saying good-by to them striped tights and the spotted trunks."

"I should like to buy them, Joey," cried David eagerly.

"They are yours, my lad; take 'em. They belong to me. Now, let's get out of this. I don't think it's best for Brad to find you 'ere."

As they left the lot, David carrying all of his possessions in the unwieldy satchel, they were met by Colonel Grand.

"David," said he, falling in beside them, "have you sufficient funds to carry you back to old Virginia? If you need money, I will gladly let you have it--as a loan."

They were surprised by the offer.

David hated him. "No, Colonel Grand, I can't take your money, even as a loan. It will be easy for me to raise the amount."

The Colonel gave him an ugly smile.

"As you like," he said. He lifted his hat to Ruby and abruptly turned back.

Far ahead were two figures that they knew well. Mrs. Braddock and Christine were hurrying away from the grounds as if desirous of avoiding a meeting with the young man.

David urged his companions to a more rapid walk. They overtook the Braddocks at the corner of an avenue which led off to the residence section of the town.

"You have heard?" asked David, as they turned in response to his call.

"You know what has happened?"

He could see that the girl had been crying. Mrs. Braddock's face was white and set.

"Yes," said the older woman. "And you are going home, David?" She spoke quietly.

"I--I don't know yet," he stammered. Christine's face had been averted.

Now she looked at him.

"You--oh, David, you don't really think of staying with us?" she cried, her eyes glowing.

"You must not think of it, David," whispered her mother hastily. "Your place is at Jenison Hall. You belong there. Lose no time, my dear boy, in returning to your home."

They had come to a little park adjoining a church-yard where there were benches. He led them to one of the seats farthest removed from the pavement. Joey and Ruby strolled into the churchyard.