A STRANGE STORY OF A DEAD MAN,S GOLD.

Otago Witness, Issue 956, 16 May 1889, Page 30

A STRANGE STORY OF A DEAD MAN,S GOLD.

By JAMES SKIPP BORLJLSE. Author of "Darker than Death," "Who Killed John Cameron?" "Both Princiesil and Police Spy," "Nina the Nihilist," "May Mortimer's Mistake," &c, &c.

[ALL EIGHTS RESERVED.]

Chapter LIX. Ben Boughton Eeveals where the Boss-eyed Man

may be Found.

, "Well, rascal, what is it that you would say to' me ?" he demanded as soon as he had come up with him.

"W.hydo you call me rascal?" rejoined the ex-poacher with a grin, " Because you are one. Wpuld you rather that I oalled you a foiled mnrderer ? You are that as well, albeit that you were clever enough to shift the blame on to my shoulders and got me turned out of house and home for the supposed doing of what I had never bo much as dreamed of," answered Jim Ballinger in tones of suppressed fury. "My dear fellow, I'll confess that I tried

to kill that wolf in sheep's clothing, who was bent upon gobbling up your own little ewe lamb. I did it fir3t of all for the lamb's own sake, and what a blessing in disguise would it have been for her had I only succeeded. I did it in the second place for your benefit, for I felt a deal more friendly towards you than you thought, and "

"Don't try to humbug me, you smoothtongued hypocrite. ' Your double aim was to shoot FitzGerald and to get me hanged as his murderer, believing that when you had brushed us both from your path you would have been able to win, my cousin for your own wife. It was a fool's thought and a yillain'B action, and having tol4 jou so to your face I'll next advise yon to make tracks as quickly as you can, for the reason that I've never yet thrashe<| you for , the ill tuni you;, did me -that night, and that II 11I 1 feel strongly tempted \q do it now and here,"

'" Self-Preservation -is 'the first la\v >of nature, and ''twas the hope of saving myself that temßted me to shift the blame on to yoar shoulders that night. No necessity less strong would have induced me, to act as T did. And What a 'mercy 'tis that things have turned out as they' have, for how would your; , cousin have got on in , her present .troubles had you been at Buttercup Farm instead of in Melbourne?" "Well, there's certainly some truth in what you say now, and so I forgive you after all. At all events, I will forgive you on condition that v yor take yourself off at once, and never worry either me or my cousin Winny any more." . , ■ "Lucky fellqw, you canaffiord.to be kindly and forgiving, now that you're on the point of attaining all that you ever wished for ; I now that in a few moredays at most Winny will be free, to be won afresh. ' A hempen widow it is true, but no less young and fair for that." " How dare you' to talk to me of my! cousin in such' a fashion ! " exclaimed Jim Ballinger furiously "I dare to do it because it depends wholly on me whether you win Winny. for your wife or no. I might have felt inclined to do you out of her in order to gratify a stupid and unprofitable jealousy, once upon a time, but now the brandy bottle has grown far dearer to me than the love of woman, so give me the means of supplying myself with some few scores of such tempting mistresses, and you are freely ' welcome to, the Winsome Winny of old time, for all that I

11 You have been paying pretty free attention to the brandy bottle already this evening, or you wouldn't be talking such a 4 heap of trash,'' said' Jim Ballinger fretfully. " At all events such attentipn as I have paid to it hasn't robbed me of the ' knowledge of what I'm about. Come I've found out that your father sent you £50 the other day. Give me 40 of it, and you shall be able to make Winny your wife as soon as ever she is the other fellow's v widow. If not, by G— l she shalj never become his widow, and that's flat."

" You're mad. You either don't know whao you are talking about, or else you take me to be a born fo6l. In either case you don't get £40 out of me," retorted Jim Ballinger. "I don't 7 Then, by George, the man in the condemned cell shall profit by your meanness and stinginess, for I know for cer-

tain who was the actual murderer of Mr Sturt." " Stuff and nonsense I You won't get me to believe that either. What, does it stand to reason that you would be here haggling with me for a miserable £40 as the price of giving him up, when you must know very well that the Government has offered £500 for his apprehension ?"

" You just stop a bit, and don't take me for a greater ass than I look. . I only found out about the matter last , night, and I've made all due inquiries to-day, but learnt that I'm too late to cop the Government reward. I don't recollect exactly what I was told, for I certainly was a little in drink at the time, but r understood well enough, curse ,'it, that I!d applied too ,late, and that's why I've brought my pigs to another market, as the saying is.", .

" The fact is that they say were a drunken fopl, and I know you to,b,e., tjhe same. Get along -about your business; I won't have anything more to say to you." ' ' "You won't, eh ?' Then you may as,,well go and say good-bye to your cousin for ever, for I'll ! now act out of sheer hate, and tomorrow, FitzGerald shall ,be able to look after his wife himself, and the cockeyed man shall be in the stone jug in his stead." " The cock-eyed man ? the'boss-eyed man ? Has the fellow who you accuse of murdering Mr Sturt got a boss-eye, a death white face, and jet black hair?" stammered' Jim Ballinger, for the first time growing terribly excited.

"Yes, he has all that, ard he's also got the horrors—^he^jiimjis-Mihe diddleum tremendous [doubtless Ben mean delirium tremens] the doctors call it-T believe^ and it's driven him to confess the crime. Now what about the £40, so that I may let him carry his secret to the grave with him, and thus secure to you the blooming bride that you've been hankering after for many a long/ year, eh?"

"Perish the thought!" exclaimed Jim wildly. " Oome and tell that which you hare just told me to his wife, and if you can prove all that you say you can 'she'll give you £500 instead of £40— aye, out ,of her own purse — and I'll also do my best to get you the £500 that were offered by the Government to me only yesterday, and which I refused to accept. Honesty is the best policy, my friend. Depend upon it that we shall both of us find it so."

So saying the ex-lance corporal seized the astonished ex-poaoher (who oould not comprehend a lover exercising such magnanimous conduct towards a rival) in almost an affectionate manner by the .shoulder, and actually pushed him along until they had arrived at the seat whereon Winny still* sat, where Jim gaspingly related all that Ben Boughton had just told him, and Winny, excited jeven to tears, hastened to ratify the promise that her cousin had made on her behalf. i .

Thereupon Bod, who had never before witnessed the nobler side of ordinarily poor, weak human nature so strongly developed, was almost equally affected,'an& without any further urging began to relate h'bw at the Old Gunboat (a disreputable tavern,! built of wood, in shape exaotly- like an old-fashioned gunboat, mast and all, and standing in the centre of 'a large open space that at that time intervened between the top of Elizabeth street and the mean and shabby suburb of Carlton)a shearer from up-country had for the past few days been " sweating down a cheque " (which is the colonial parlance for taking the amount out in drink); and that when he had drunk, or the landlord said h.o had drunk, the full value thereof, ihe had been turned out neck and crop, raving.with the "horrors," either to die or to recover, according to whether his constitution was a, 1 tough or a , weak one, inside an old mine-, boiler, that,' like some vast whale, had been stranded amidst the filth, and weeds and winter mud of the 1 patch of bare and open common for years "past. ' , '. 1, . , Hqw'bn.the preceding night, Ben had also sought <the shelter* of Jhe boiler,* quite by chance; 'for his own , jestihgj-'place; and had there listened to' the 'maniac's rarings, con*

cerning ho\v, nearly a jfea^previously 1 , hebl seen- a man knock dowtt 0 another' in n* Fitfcroy Gardens, and' then leave Him, %1 thereupon had noticed' the glitter of' en and jewels on the prostrate person; had. gL up to hi-m, attempted to rob; him, and onth! man suddenly recovering' consciousness an grappling with him, he had struck at W with a heavy door-key which .he had pick up in the street to sell for old iron, intend^ only to stun him again, ( instead of which tt blow had killed him!' . Ben then went on to tell jipw the feU fl , 1 had' even let out the name of the murdere< map in 'his ravings, and , also that of the ft, nocent one who was to be .-hanged forth crime, and hie concluded by saying that U had bound him down inside the bjbiler, vK he would doubtless still be found, for thau one living near the Old Gunboat ever tool any notice of a man raving with the horroti it was such a common occurrence in that locality, and that no boys or children etg played on the common because it was said to be haunted by ,the ghost of a horse-thirf who in the,, old lawlese days of the fifties y^ lynched from the- branch of the she-od tree that then stood in its centre.

When Ben had concluded his narrate Winny excitedly reiterated her promise tci him, and then added, "Now let us all goto the house of Mr Kyte, the magistrate, fork will help us, and his is just the kind of he> that we need." '

Chapter LX. A Murderer's Confession Inside a Busty Boiler, An hour later a car might have been ot served dashing at great speed up Elizabeti street, and containing besides the drive Mr Kyte, detective Black, Jim j Balling Ben Boughton, and little Jock Mui^ray. 'i Winny had been deshous of accompanyii»; the expedition, but her cousin, bearing j) mind that she was only just getting betie from a severe mental illness, would not heji of such a thing, fearing that it might occa. sion a'relapse ; and so ghe'had been left in charge of the .worthy magistrate's kindlj wife and daughter until the return of thi expedition/ i, • Fully half of those who composed it did not believe a word of Ben Boughton's tale, and the other half ■ were fearful that whej they reached the" bid boiler the "man with ' the horrors" would either be found dead, and thus useless, or to have slipped his bond] and bolted.

At last the ragged patch of waste land

was reached, and there was The Old Gudboat, lying hig[h and dry in the middle of it> with a lantern at her masthead by way of a guide to those who might be in search ol her, and who, in a 'general way,', saw two lamps where only one was hanging ; though on the present occasion 'even that one wai

little needed, so redly glowed her porthole) with the lights that burned within her hull, and so loud was the r dm of mingled oath and

jest and song from those who were alreadj " hajf-s,eas over," notwithstanding that tin strange cijaft they had shipped aboard i had never once " been rocked in ; the oral!} of the deep," and indeed would have gone to the bottom of even a tranquil; mill-pond within a couple of minutes of 1 her being launched thereon

Once within/ sight of the goal, the ownpants of the car decided on getting down ancl walking 'the of the distance, but they told the' carman • to ' remain within hail, as they should require his services od theieturo "journey., A '

Having issued these directions- a march was made straight' on the boiler, which lay just where it did when the author of thus tale last beheld it, a moderately' goidd stons'i throw away' from Th§ Old i&unboat (which in his time had been converted into a cheap and nas^y cofEee-houee)^ close" to, the fireblackened stump of ,the 3he oak on which

the before-mentioned horse thief had bea lynched 15 years or so -previously, and surrounded by a miscellaneous, collection of old pots, fryingpans,'jje't'tles, '&nd other worn-oat cooking utensils, stones,, brickbats, dead cats, weeds, and general filth. • " All this ' necessitated', wary, walking, but at I last the rusty, dented, and. even hole-worn broadside of the -'old ■ Cornish boiler w«J reached, and then Benj.Bo.ughton held upba handand mutely signed ta , his companions to listen. -. ••■/ ■

■ They did so, and became at once conscious that at all events some living ' creature tonanted the, boiler. A 'moment more and, the scuffling boim that it made ohanged into a dull, low roar, like the distant murmur of an' angry sea. " He's talking to himself— raving, I expect. I thought we should be able to hear his words from outside, but this darn^ hollow thing reverberates so, and his voice seems to have got so weak, that I don't suppose you oan catch a single one of 'emeh?"

The, question' was put, and, somewto' anxiously, by Boughton, and on receiving an answer in the negative from the magistrate and the deteotive, Ben said : "Come, then. ' We, must, all of us cr«ep inside the cussed thing' and join comply with him. Better do it, if we can, so that he won't know at first that we're there^ that's to say on 'oar hands and knees andn> the dark. I've, a bit of tallow candle aid* box of matches in my pocket, so that whenever his worship chooses t© say ' Light vp 1 * does so according. But l|ve a notion that more light may be thrown on the subject in the dark, don't you see, for though a m^ with the hcrrors is' in one sense a fool. he» often a darned cunning one, and as suspicion! as an English crow." j

■ Ben's advice was thought good, and therefore at once taken ; consequently a wxadf later the whole party had taken off thetf boots, and were creeping on their hands and knees into the boiler, at its only op® end. Detective Blaok and Jim Ballingei led w way, then close following them cametne magistrate, and Ben Boughton and W tl& Jock brought up the rear. Ben had previously volunteered the info*' mation that the delirium,' tremens-strickea ■wretch was bound down; at quite the other end of the boiler, so that his visitors «"»" not nervous about' coming in" contact witn him'- before it was-adyi&able.that they should do, so, for ajfull-sised .Cornish mine boiler »' an'immerisfe'thing', as large in'fact a« » whale,, arid'capable' of holding jialf i ; hundred men packed , closely togStb'e£\ r lf !' i l ,/ Before the invading' paffcy haft got for «V

however, they were bereft of all desire to" go any further by the ravings of the man with the horrors, and the frantic struggle that he seemed to be waging with some imaginary foe or foes. ' "Ha 1 here they come again ! " he suddenly shrieked forth. " Here they come again— the black, the blue, the green, and the bloodred devils— [a victim of delirium tremens generally fancies that he sees devils around him] — moping and grinning, and leering and wagging their tails and making pretence to ' clutch at me and bear me away with them ! Ha ! ha 1 ha 1 but they can't— they daren't 1 for I never murdered old Sfcurt. Oh God 1 I never meant to kill him, and to make murder there must be murderous intentions. > Ah ! ye fiends^ ye well know that, and so ye daren't touch me. I only intended to stun the old fool, so that I might rob him the easier. I only meant to stun him, I tell ye. God ! why was the key so heavy, and why did I strike him' full' on the left temple ? But I did not ■ intend to kill him, all the same. Keep back, keep back. I say that I didn't mean to kill him I Heaven protect me, they won't keep back. lam lost— l am lost I " and here the miserable wretch made a futile effort to repeat the Lord's Prayer. But, ere he had got half way through with it, he shrieked out afresh to the fiends, who he evidently imagined were approaching him still closer, and mocking him as they hemmed him in.

" What is it you say ? That I shall at all ' events be a murderer in a few days' time ? as soon as ever I have let an innocent man hang for my own crime ? And then — then you will come and bear me away to hell's flames, even if you don't do it before 1 Oh, oh, have mercy — have mercy 1 I dare not confess— l'm a miserable coward. As God's my judge I came down to Melbourne on purpose to make a clean breast of it, but at the last moment my courage failed. Then I drank to get back my pluck— and instead of making me brave the vile stuff has driven me mad. Keep backl Hands off! Can't you spare me because of my good intentions 1 No, alas I for hell is said to be paved with them. Heaven alone can help me, and heaven is deaf. lam lost— lost— lost 1 " Here followed a shriek so wild, so awful, and ao despairing that the kind-hearted magistrate could bear it no longer, and turning his head, he requested in a whisper that the candle should be lighted. No sooner had Ben Boughton obeyed him and held the mere scrap of common tallow dip up aloft to throw its rays as far forward as possible, than little Jock screamed out : " The man with the boss eyes. The man who I saw selling the diamonds at The Rocking Cradle. lam sure it is he ; I would know him anywhere." "I have no doubt, either, that we hare the right man at last," said Mr Kyte reflectively ; and then he quickly added, " Lst us get' the poor wretch as soon as possible to where he will be properly tended and taken care of." ' In response to the request Detective Black rose and said cheerily to thß " man with the bOrrors": "There, mate, we have driven aH those Ugly devils away, and none too soon, I reckon. What on earth made you come in here, where they all live? That- was a foolish thing to do. Why, I declare they've bound you down on your back," he continued, as he undid Ben Boughton's rather clumsy lashings, that were composed of a short length of rotten rope, and a piece of chain, both of which he had found on the spot, with a twisted belcher handkerchief that he had taken from around his own neck for the purpose.

(To be concluded next week.)