The Strange Case of Cavendish

The Strange Case of Cavendish

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Strange Case of Cavendish, by
Randall Parrish
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: The Strange Case of Cavendish
Author: Randall Parrish

Release Date: January 31, 2006 [eBook #17647]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH***
E-text prepared by Al Haines

THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
by

RANDALL PARRISH
Author of "The Devils Own," "Beyond the Frontier," "When
Wilderness Was King," Etc.

A. L. Burt Company Publishers New York Published by arrangement
with George H. Doran Company Copyright, 1918, by Randall Parrish
Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
THE REACHING OF A DECISION II THE BODY ON THE FLOOR
III MR. ENRIGHT DECLARES HIMSELF IV A BREATH OF
SUSPICION V ON THE TRACK OF A CRIME VI AT STEINWAY'S
VII MISS DONOVAN ARRIVES VIII A GANG OF ENEMIES IX A
NIGHT AND A MORNING X AT A NEW ANGLE XI DEAD OR
ALIVE XII VIEWED FROM BOTH SIDES XIII THE SHOT OF
DEATH XIV LACY LEARNS THE TRUTH XV MISS LA RUE
PAYS A CALL XVI CAPTURED XVII IN THE SHOSHONE
DESERT XVIII IN MEXICAN POWER XIX WESTCOTT FINDS
HIMSELF ALONE XX TO COMPEL AN ANSWER XXI THE
MARSHAL PLAYS A HAND XXII THE ROCK IN THE STREAM
XXIII THE ESCAPE XXIV THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF XXV IN
THE DARK PASSAGE XXVI THE REAPPEARANCE OF
CAVENDISH XXVII A DANGEROUS PRISONER XXVIII WITH
BACK TO THE WALL XXIX A NEEDLE IN A HAYSTACK XXX
ON THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF XXXI WITH FORCE OF ARMS
XXXII IN THE TWO CABINS XXXIII THE REAL MR.
CAVENDISH XXXIV MISS DONOVAN DECIDES

THE STRANGE CASE OF CAVENDISH
CHAPTER I
: THE REACHING OF A DECISION
For the second time that night Frederick Cavendish, sitting at a small
table in a busy café where the night life of the city streamed continually
in and out, regarded the telegram spread out upon the white napery. It
read:
Bear Creek, Colorado, 4/2/15.
FREDERICK CAVENDISH, College Club, New York City.
Found big lead; lost it again. Need you badly.
WESTCOTT.
For the second time that night, too, a picture rose before him, a picture
of great plains, towering mountains, and open spaces that spoke the
freedom and health of outdoor living. He had known that life once
before, when he and Jim Westcott had prospected and hit the trail
together, and its appeal to him now after three years of shallow
sightseeing in the city was deeper than ever.
"Good old Jim," he murmured, "struck pay-dirt at last only to lose it
and he needs me. By George, I think I'll go."
And why should he not? Only twenty-nine, he could still afford to
spend a few years in search of living. His fortune left him at the death
of his father was safely invested, and he had no close friends in the city
and no relatives, except a cousin, John Cavendish, for whom he held no
love, and little regard.
He had almost determined upon going to Bear Creek to meet Westcott
and was calling for his check when his attention was arrested by a noisy
party of four that boisterously took seats at a near-by table. Cavendish

recognised the two women as members of the chorus of the prevailing
Revue, one of them Celeste La Rue, an aggressive blonde with thin lips
and a metallic voice, whose name was synonymous with midnight
escapades and flowing wine. His contemptuous smile at the sight of
them deepened into a disgusted sneer when he saw that one of the men
was John Cavendish, his cousin.
The two men's eyes met, and the younger, a slight, mild-eyed youth
with a listless chin, excused himself and presented himself at the elder's
table.
"Won't you join us?" he said nervously.
Frederick Cavendish's trim, bearded jaw tightened and he shook his
head. "They are not my people," he said shortly, then retreating, begged,
"John, when are you going to cut that sort out?"
"You make me weary!" the boy snapped. "It's easy enough for you to
talk when you've got all the money--that gives you an excuse to read
me moral homilies every time I ask you for a dollar, but Miss La Rue is
as good as any of your friends any day."
The other controlled himself. "What is it you want?" he demanded
directly: "Money? If so, how much?"
"A hundred will do," the younger man said eagerly. "I lost a little on
cards lately,