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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23757-8.txt b/23757-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8bc648 --- /dev/null +++ b/23757-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11198 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Men of Affairs, by Roland Pertwee + +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: Men of Affairs + +Author: Roland Pertwee + +Release Date: December 7, 2007 [EBook #23757] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN OF AFFAIRS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + +MEN OF AFFAIRS + + +BY + +ROLAND PERTWEE + + + + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers + +New York + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY + +ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + + +_PUBLISHED, MAY, 1922_ + +First and Second Printings before publication + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + + 1. Dissolution + 2. Eight Closed Doors + 3. Which Develops an Idea + 4. Sitting on the Floor + 5. Experiences of a Vagrant + 6. Concerning a Tie + 7. The Night of the 27th + 8. Introducing a Lady + 9. An Invitation to Stay + 10. Nerves + 11. Outlining a Programme + 12. Pineapple + 13. Harrison Smith + 14. "Off the Beaten Track" + 15. Tea and Tears + 16. A Hyphen + 17. A Doubtful Ally + 18. Holding Out + 19. At the Chestnuts + 20. A Little Housebreaking + 21. The Cornish Riviera + 22. Plain Sailing + 23. An Encounter + 24. Rival Factions + 25. Mr. Bolt Drops In + 26. Among Allies + 27. A Knotted Kerchief + 28. Sand + 29. Individual Resource + 30. The True Auriole + 31. A Way Out + 32. The Appointed Hour + 33. A Smash Up + 34. The Finishing Straight + + + + +PART I. + + +CHAPTER 1. + +DISSOLUTION. + +At a pawnshop in the Gray's Inn Road, Richard Frencham Altar disposed +of the last of his worldly goods. Four suits from a tailor in Saville +Row, two pairs of shoes in brown and patent by a craftsman of Jermyn +Street, some odds and ends of hosiery, a set of dressing table brushes +with black monograms on ivory and the gold cigarette case Doreen had +given him on the day of their engagement. In consideration for which +he departed with a sum of twenty-seven pounds sixteen shillings in his +trousers pockets. At his rooms in Golden Square he settled his account +with the landlady, a luxury that reduced his wealth by a matter of +nineteen pounds. Of the eight pounds sixteen shillings remaining, five +guineas were placed on one side for the tobacconist who had supplied +him with Gold Flake and the margin transferred to another pocket for +the purpose of one final engagement with the habit of high living. +After that--well time would show. It was futile to speculate upon the +future. He had the clothes he stood up in, the brain and tissue heaven +had provided him with and a spirit unawed by adversity. Many men have +started life with less. + +A neighbouring clock chimed the hour. Too early to dine--besides there +were things to be done first. From a highly decorated vase that stood +upon a particularly restless over-mantel, he drew a small packet of +letters and untied the tape that circled them. They were written in a +careless sprawling hand, with lots of ink and little thought. They +were very full of 'darlings' and 'dearests' and 'how much do you love +me's.' They were very, very rapturous--they were very, very silly. +They had made him very happy when first he read them because silliness +and sincerity are often partners, but now he knew better--now they made +him laugh. Not a very cheerful laugh perhaps--a little cynical maybe +but on the whole tolerant and forbearing. + +He put a match to the first and lit the others in succession one by one +until a charred chain of memories stretched across the tiling of the +grate. The last 'Doreen' straggled scarlet across a black and twisting +page, whitened, greyed and disappeared. + +"And I'll grow a beard and forget all about you," said Richard. "And +it oughtn't to be very difficult really." + +He rose, crossed to the window and looked out. + +"If ever I fall in love again--if ever I earn enough for the luxury of +falling in love again, it won't be with----" but he changed his mind +about finishing the sentence, for, after all, it is folly to speak hard +words against pretty little things that make the world very jolly while +they last. + +Besides Doreen had her way to make like any other girl, and no one can +deny the difference between the son of an exceptionally wealthy and +indulgent parent and the same son after the parental wealth has +exploded and the parental brain has been drilled with a .450 calibre +bullet discharged at a range of two inches from the frontal bone and +making a somewhat unsightly exit by way of the parietal. + +James Frencham Altar, father of Richard, did not believe in failure or +exposure or public obloquy. His lode-star was success and when the +forward speed of success threw out its selectors and went suddenly into +reverse the liquidation of his affairs was conducted by the firm of +Colt and was covered in a single report. Thus ended an ambitious +career. + +Richard had suffered rather heavily under the generosity of his father +whose cherished wish was that his son should be a gentleman and nothing +more. Accordingly Richard had been sent to Eton, Oxford, and round the +world three times. He had been given a racing stable, an enormous +allowance and was instructed to spend as much as he could and enjoy +himself all he knew how. Being a high spirited and obliging young +fellow, Richard did all these things very engagingly, and somehow +contrived not to spoil himself. He emerged from the war with a +Military Cross, a row of service medals, a brace of foreign decorations +and an ambition to do some work. His father appeared to applaud the +ambition but actually discouraged it with specious argument and an +introduction to Doreen--who did the rest. + +Doreen, of course, was a perfect darling. She always bit her lower lip +and she held her arms tight to her sides like a child who has been +naughty. There was no possible excuse to refrain from hugging Doreen. +One just had to and damn the consequences. Doreen would cry after +being kissed and would continue crying until again kissed into an even +frame of mind. Lots of people kissed Doreen because they could not +help themselves and she forgave them all on that account. There never +was such a darling. Richard Frencham Altar, fresh from the wars, +simply wanted to eat her and, seeing that he was a handsome young +fellow with a pleasant aura of gold about him, Doreen arrayed herself +in her most eatable frocks and devourable smiles and just let him. + +"Oh, Dicks," she cried, soon after their engagement--'Dicks' being the +name she called him, for Doreens all the world over adore plurals and +attaching 'S's' to names because it makes them so snakey--"Oh, Dicks, +there's only one teeny-weeny thing I wish." + +"What's that?" he said. + +"I wish you were as poor as poor as poor so I could just love you for +nothing but yourself." + +It was very pleasant hearing, but when a year later he went to her and +confided that he was as 'poor as poor as poor' it transpired she had +only said it for something to say and infinitely preferred young men +who were as rich as rich as rich. + +Discoveries like that are a little apt to revolutionise a man's ideals +even if they fail to destroy them altogether. + +Richard kept his views to himself. He kissed the tearful Doreen for +the last time and she waved a tiny georgette kerchief from the window +as he passed down the street and out of her life. He had not a great +deal of leisure to consider the extent of his loss. The proceedings of +the coroner's court and the importunities of creditors occupied his +days very fully. The chaos of his father's affairs and the winding up +of his own provided ample entertainment. The net result was a +settlement of something less than a farthing in the pound and the +retirement into oblivion of one of the most able spendthrifts of the +twentieth century. He had spent a couple of months looking for work, +but the name Frencham Altar, coupled with his complete inability to +point to a single marketable asset other than courage and a smiling +disposition, conspired together to harden the hearts of employers. Old +friends denied him interviews, business acquaintances turned him from +their doors and the casual advertiser forbore replying to his +enquiries. Of course, if he had been a little less honest he might +very easily have cleaned up a quiet thousand or two from the wreckage +of the estate. His solicitor had demonstrated the absurdity of +Quixoticism in such affairs, but whatever other reproach might be laid +to his account, Richard was no opportunist and lacked the parental +liking for feathering his own nest at the expense of his fellows. +Wherefore the whole of his worldly resources, if we except the courage +and the smile, went into the whirlpool and were swallowed up. + +Richard let the curtain fall across the window and crossed to the +mantelpiece where he touched the bell. It occurred to him that there +was a certain luxury in ringing bells--it was one of many comforts of +civilisation that would pass out of his reach. No one answered the +bell so he rang it again and was quite dispirited to hear footsteps +ascending the stairs. If his connection with bells was to cease it +would have been pleasant to have rung it a few more times. It is an +awful thing to contemplate that you have rung a bell for the last time. +One can get very sentimental over a thing like that. Dear jolly old +bells, what an influence they have upon life. How bravely they whirr +at the arrival of a dear expected--how madly they riot to the tune +Wedding--how sadly they toll when the last of us is borne away. + +Mrs. Walton, the landlady, came into the room and said "Yes." + +"I am going now," said Richard. + +"We shall be sorry to lose you." + +"And I to go. Many thanks, Mrs. Walton." + +"And what is your destination, sir?" + +"I have my eye on a bench facing Green Park," he replied. "It is a +favourite locality for the impecunious philosopher. In other words I +don't know where I'm going but I have a pretty solid conviction that +one of these days I shall get there. There are two empty trunks in my +bedroom which I should be glad if you would accept." + +Mrs. Walton shook her head. + +"You could raise a bit of money on them," she suggested. + +"Maybe," said Richard, "but I don't want to. There are only two kinds +of money that are any use. Regular money or lots of money--a little +money is no good to anyone and is better spent. By midnight tonight I +hope to find myself with none at all." + +"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Walton. + +"That," replied Richard, "is precisely what I am relying upon. And I +could not wish to start on my adventures under a happier ensign. +Goodbye." + +And to the amazement of the lady he hissed her very soundly and +clattered down the stairs. + +At the tobacconist he settled the last of his small accounts, purchased +a hundred cigarettes and hailed a taxi. + +"The Berkeley Grill Room," he said. + +They were a little surprised at the informality of his attire, but +there is something in the bearing of a restaurant habitué that would +procure him the best the establishment can afford even though he +appeared in a bathing suit. + +"Stick me in a corner somewhere," he said, "I have no evening clothes." + +"Monsieur has not had time to dress." + +"I repeat I have no evening clothes, on the other hand I've a deuce of +a good appetite. A brandy cocktail and the book of words, please." + +They were supplied. + +Richard ordered his dinner with a reckless disregard for expenditure +and a nice choice of wine and dishes which earned the appreciation of +those that waited upon him. He finished with a Villa Villa and a +double Napoleon and sat back with folded arms, a pleasant smile and +eyes that drowsed comfortably over the agreeable quiet of the café. + +It caused him something of an effort to ask for his bill, dispose of it +with the last of his notes, tip the waiter and rise to his feet. As he +was approaching the swing doors that led to the little hexagonal foyer, +a man at a table near by raised a pair of keen black eyes, glanced at +him quickly, smiled and nodded. The man's face was unfamiliar but +Richard returned the nod casually and passed out. The man half rose +then changed his mind and sat down again. He was a tall man with black +hair threaded with white. His face was large featured but clear cut, +high cheekbones, a Roman nose, a straight, firm mouth and Wellingtonian +side whiskers, his age forty or a little more. His companion at the +table put a question but the man shook his head. + +"I fancy I made a mistake," he said. + +Richard tipped the porter with the last coins in his pocket, a shilling +and five coppers, turned slowly down Berkeley Street and crossed +Piccadilly. He passed the Ritz, of pleasant memory, and entered into +the sleeping apartment of London's destitute--the single bench on the +slope that faces Green Park, gratuitously provided by the generosity of +the City of Westminster. + +There was a constable by the cabman's shelter and him Richard addressed. + +"A fine night, Bobbie," he said. + +The constable agreed that this was so. He did not resent having been +addressed as 'Bobbie.' There was no offence in it and Richard belonged +to that class of individuals with whom familiarity is a cloak for +courtesy. + +"Taking a stroll, sir?" he asked. + +Richard produced his hundred Gold Flake and bade the officer fill his +helmet. + +"Better help me out with a few or I shall be smoking all night," he +said. + +"In trouble, sir?" + +"Broke," said Richard, "and I want your advice. I've had the devil of +a good dinner with the last of my fortune and I'm looking for words of +wisdom. In the first place, how about that bench?" + +"The Rowton is better." + +"Won't run to it." + +"Not to be recommended, p'raps, but it's free to all," said the +constable, nodding at the green seat which was already filling up for +the night, with bundles of rags, voluminous overcoats and thin, shiny +blue serges buttoned at the neck. + +"I don't want to steal a march on the regular custom," observed Richard. + +"It's first come hereabouts, but you'd better not leave it too late. +Anyway you'll get a shake-up when the four o'clock patrol comes on." + +"How's that?" + +"Always give 'em a shake-up at four o'clock. Don't make many odds. +You just get up and sit down again. Takes the cold out of your bones +if it does nothing else." + +"I suppose," said Richard, "I couldn't doss down on that board that's +perched on the two iron standards up towards Hyde Park Comer. It has a +single room touch that I rather fancy." + +The constable shook his head. + +"I couldn't let you," he said, "though there's no particular harm in +it." + +"Then what's it for anyway?" + +"Don't rightly know. They do say it was for the garden carriers to +rest their packs on when they was coming up to market from the outlying +farms. And again I been told that they laid the corpses on it what was +being carried to the plague pits when there was one of these 'ere +epidemics in London. Long while back that 'ud be." + +"Hm," said Richard, "cheery sort of memory. Well I'll take a chance +with the rest. Good night. Oh, by the way, how's one manage about +getting a wash in the mornings?" + +"You goes without." + +"Well, there's a damn thing," said Richard and departed with a nod. + +There was an empty place on the bench but Richard hesitated long before +occupying it. Although no more than a single step it seemed a +tremendous distance from the pavement to the seat. A happy memory of a +similar sensation helped him to take the plunge--it was the trembling +nervousness he had felt on the first day of his commission when he +stood in an agony of suspense outside the anteroom of the officers' +mess and tried to summon up courage to enter. A dark shambling figure +approaching the spot decided him, and having accomplished the feat it +was only to find experience repeating itself. No one took any notice, +not a sunken chin was raised. The sleepers to right and left edged +away a trifle to give him room and continued with their breathy +muttering sleep. + +Richard Frencham Altar lit a cigarette and buried his hands in his +pockets and with the whole future before him to contemplate and with +every vital problem that a man may be called upon to face, he said to +himself, "Now I wonder who that johnny was who nodded to me at the +Berkeley." + +He was still wondering, for want of something better to do, when an +hour later his friend the constable passed slowly by and looked him +over critically. An official report of his observation would have read +as follows:-- + +Height, about five feet nine. Age, thirty odd. Hair, dark with a +disposition to wave. Eyes, brown, merry and set wide apart. Well +marked brows. Nose of medium length and slightly crooked to the left. +Short upper lip. Firm mouth with an upward twist at the corners. A +strong square chin. A habit of holding the head slightly at an angle. +Quick way of speaking and walks with a springy step. Stands with one +hand on his left hip. + +"Doing all right?" asked the constable. + +"Fine," said Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER 2. + +EIGHT CLOSED DOORS. + +As the taxi turned into the station yard from the Euston Road, Anthony +Barraclough unobtrusively opened the offside door and dropped into the +street. A pantechnicon concealed the manoeuvre from the traffic that +followed. His taxi driver was blissfully unaware of his departure. It +would seem a mean thing to have done but Barraclough had pinned a +Bradbury to the vacated seat as a tacit apology. + +On landing in the street he wasted no time and nipped very neatly into +the open back of the pantechnicon. Here he concealed himself until a +stream of a dozen taxis had passed by, and in the pleasant straw +smelling shadows Anthony Barraclough grew a beard in precisely half a +minute by the clock, and a moustache in even less time. It was a nice +beard and a nice moustache, but even so it did not improve his +appearance. He was much better looking without. If you doubt the +statement here is an official report of his looks and bearing, by means +of which you may judge for yourself. + +Height, about five feet nine. Age, thirty-four. Hair, dark with a +disposition to wave. Eyes, brown and set wide apart. Well marked +brows. Nose of medium length and slightly crooked to the left Short +upper lip. Firm mouth with an upward twist at the corners. A strong +square chin. A habit of holding the head slightly at an angle. Quick +way of speaking. Walks with a springy step. Stands with one hand on +his left hip. + +Compare this description with one printed in the foregoing chapter and +a certain peculiar resemblance may suggest itself. The absence of the +word 'merry' in the latter as applied to the eyes must not be mistaken +for a careless omission, but rather as a piece of keen observation in +physiognomy. These things are very important. + +Having pressed his cheeks until the wax warmed and adhered, Anthony +Barraclough threw a leg over the tailboard and alighted on the +pavement. Scarcely a soul bothered to glance his way. At a smart walk +he made for the tube station, bought a ticket at the twopenny machine +and entered the lift. In the passages below he made a circular tour, +entered an ascending lift and reappeared in the street. A 'bus was +passing which he entered and travelled in for a few hundred yards. +Then he got out and hailed a taxi and two minutes later was at the +booking office of St. Pancras Station. As he was reaching for his note +case a man in the queue behind him observed, vaguely, as though +addressing the air: + +"Pity to waste the money, Mr. Barraclough. Much better go home and be +reasonable." + +He returned the note case to his pocket and stepped out of the queue. +A sudden inflammation of anger surged to his cheeks and his brows came +down hard and straight. + +The individual who had spoken was apparently absorbed in a copy of +_Answers_. + +"It is annoying, isn't it?" he remarked sweetly. + +And then it was that Barraclough did a very stupid thing. He measured +the distance speculatively between his own fist and the man's jaw and +upper cut to the point as neatly as you could please. It happened so +quickly that the onlookers thought the man had fallen from sickness. +Barraclough was gone when they helped him to his feet. He was in a +taxi speeding out of the yard. + +"Drive north as fast you can go," he had shouted. + +A loafer, standing by the station gates, who had witnessed his hurried +entry into the cab, lounged in front as it was passing out. The driver +swore and slammed on his brakes but the loafer took his own time and +chances. The speed of the taxi fell almost to a walking pace. The +loafer caught the nearside canopy stay with his right hand and slung +his knee on to the projecting end of the rear wing. From there he +mounted to the roof of the cab, keeping his legs clear of the side +windows. It was quite a dexterous performance, and after all, what was +against it? The fare for two is the same as for one and the poor must +travel. So hugging his knees and smiling he sat on the battens of the +luggage rack and congratulated himself, while within Anthony +Barraclough was tapping with his foot and feeling very angry indeed. + +And if you are interested to know why, here is the reason. The little +affair that occurred at St. Pancras booking office was a repetition of +seven similar incidents within the last twelve hours. By seven +different routes he had endeavoured to get out of London and in every +instance had been headed back. It had started with the affair on the +Croydon train and the woman who fainted in his arms. Then there was +the car on the Portsmouth road that had been crashed into by another at +the top of Kingston Hill. Victoria, Charing Cross, Waterloo and +Liverpool Street. It seemed to make no difference at all where he +tried, the result was always the same. The little contretemps at +Rotherhithe when he tried to board a tug was a sufficiently unpleasant +experience for one day. A man gets out of the habit of being shot over +after two years of peace and the memory of the little chips of flying +woodwork flicked from the bows of the dingy as he had pulled out into +the river was distinctly discouraging. Whoever fired the shots had a +pretty knack with a rifle. It was the whirr of a bullet just over his +head persuaded him to put back to port. After that the firing ceased. +As he dragged the almost foundering dingy on to the mud a fast motor +launch went scurrying down stream with a man on deck who shouted, "Go +home." + +But Anthony was not the type of man to turn back. Opposition sterned +his resolve. Besides he had a pretty sure conviction that they did not +mean to kill him. Very much the reverse. Were he to be dying of a +sickness he felt certain they would dispatch to his bedside the finest +physicians of the land. The problem was how to escape their unwelcome +attentions and so far it had proved a problem without solution. + +They were speeding along the Caledonian Road when the driver leaned out +to ask where he should drive. The man on the top of the cab caught the +answer "Hendon Aerodrome" and smiled because he admired a tryer. + +"Better wait till we get to a quieter part," he reflected. + +The taxi proceeded until at last the houses of Golders Green ran out +into the fields near The Welsh Harp. Then very cautiously he spread +out at full length and reached out his hand for the knee joint of the +hood stay. The one on the right broke easily but the left was stiffer +and bit his finger as the joint gave. He had already loosened the +little clip hooks that secured the hood frame to the permanent +structure. There was room for a knife blade where the frames united +and they had slipped back easily. Holding the hood in position with +his left hand the adventurous passenger produced a neat automatic with +his right. Then he gave the hood a shove and presented the pistol at +Barraclough's head. And since it is not in the realms of common +occurrence for the tops to fly off cabs and reveal armed desperadoes no +one will blame Barraclough for the views he expressed upon the subjects. + +"Keep sweet," said the loafer in a very agreeable tone of voice when +Barraclough had exhausted his first inspiration. "And if you'll keep +your hands in your lap I'll come and sit beside you." + +Never for an instant while this agile individual transferred himself +from the roof of the cab to the interior did the caressing muzzle of +the pistol waver from its mark. + +"Sorry to be a nuisance," he observed as he settled himself beside +Barraclough, "but I'm afraid you'll have to tell this joker to turn +back. Golders Green Tube Station will do nicely." + +And while Barraclough was leaning forward to comply with the +instructions he very neatly removed a Harrington and Richardson from +his unhappy victim's pocket. + +"Just to be on the safe side," he remarked as he transferred it to his +own. "You'll be getting a bit peevish maybe and might lose your sense +of proportion after such a busy day." + +"Tell me this," said Barraclough. "How many of you are there in this?" + +"My dear chap, I don't know--hundreds I expect." + +"Hm!" said Barraclough. "Well, I'm going home to bed." + +"Sensible fellow and I'll see you get there safely." + +They alighted at Golders Green Station where the driver was equally +amazed by his open cab and the extra passenger. + +"No, no, this is on me," said the loafer and handed out a couple of +notes. + +In the station he nodded to several men in a friendly fashion and +repeated the performance to some others as they sat side by side in the +tube carriage. He rather flattered himself on the inspiration that +suggested this performance, for, as a fact, everyone of them was a +stranger. + +"Thought it safer to come home this way," he said to establish the +point more firmly. "I felt a bit lonely with you in that cab." + +They parted at the doors of Crest Chambers, W., where Barraclough had a +flat. + +"By the way, any message for Mr. Van Diest?" + +"You can tell him to go to the devil," said Anthony Barraclough. + +"Right, I will. I say, if you feel a bit neglected during the night +don't worry, there are plenty of us knocking about in the street below +and we shan't desert you." + +Barraclough smiled grimly. + +"You seem a genial sort of ass," he said. "Care for a drink?" + +"No, thanks. I must toddle along and make my report." He hesitated. +"But I would like to know what all this is about." + +"So would a good many other people," said Barraclough and pressed the +third floor button of the electric lift. + + + + +CHAPTER 3. + +WHICH DEVELOPS AN IDEA. + +The meeting of the directors had been arranged to take place at Lord +Almont Frayne's house in Park Lane. Nugent Cassis was first to arrive. +It was part of his scheme of life to be five minutes early for +appointments. He nodded to the man-servant, crossed to the fire and +rubbed his thin hands before it. + +"I expect his lordship will be down directly," said the servant. + +"Do you?" said Cassis and that was all. + +A precise, erect, parchmentlike person was Nugent Cassis, entirely +colourless in himself and his outlook. The emotions of life never for +an instant affected him. He was apparently insensible to pain, +passion, triumph and disaster. His brain worked at one unvarying speed +with clocklike regularity. He was always efficient, he was never +inspired. He believed in himself and his judgments and doubted +everyone else and their judgments. He was a machine, self-contrived, +for the purpose of making money, which he had no capacity for spending. +He could carry in his head the entire overnight market quotations and +invariably did so. He seldom made a mistake and never admitted the +mistakes he made. His transactions were honest because his knowledge +of the law was unrivalled and he knew to a hair how close to the wind a +man might sail. As he never wasted a moment he occupied the time of +waiting, in ringing up his broker and firing a barrage of instructions. +This done he returned to the fireplace, consulted his own watch, +corrected the mantelpiece clock which was a minute and a half slow, +sniffed critically and proceeded to warm his hands again. There was +nothing spontaneous in the action, warming his hands was as much a part +of his daily programme as reading the _Financial Times_, the two +minutes he spent lying flat on his back after lunch, or the single +round of golf which he played every third Sunday throughout the year. + +The clock was striking eleven when Mr. Hilbert Torrington, a bent, +bald, clean shaven man of eighty years, entered on the arm of the +servant. Mr. Torrington, his age claims the prefix, was a different +type to Cassis. He possessed a pair of blue eyes that might have +belonged to a child and the expression of his face, a face threaded +with a thousand wrinkles, was sweet and calm. People who saw him but +had no intimate knowledge of his powers, marvelled that this frail, +kindly, stooping old man, with his look of innocence that was almost +sublime, could in reality be a giant in the world of money. Such was +the case. Mr. Hilbert Torrington had his fingers on the financial +pulse of the world and at a pressure could accelerate or decelerate it, +to suit his mood. Unlike Cassis, Mr. Torrington had time for +everything. When he worked he worked instantaneously, achieving in an +hour work that would have kept a less remarkable man busy for a month. +After one of these flashes he would relapse into pleasant gardens where +he grew roses, or pleasant galleries where he looked with eyes of +understanding into the heart of pictures. Sometimes he amused himself +by playing with urchins in St. James's Park and on one occasion had +been seen to divest himself of his coat to supply the wickets for an +informal cricket match. When asked why he bothered to take part in the +rack and strain of high finance he gave the amiable reply: + +"Because it's such fun." + +The servant piloted him to a high elbow chair and helped him to be +seated. + +"Thank ye," said Mr. Torrington. "And if you'll put a side table +alongside I'll try a new patience. No, don't bother to tell me your +master won't be long, I know that bit by heart." + +He unwound a silk comforter from his neck, hung it over the arm of the +chair and produced from his pocket a small pack of cards. + +"Cold, Cassis?" + +"I was cold," replied Cassis exactly. + +"Hm! Fine growing weather, this." + +He began to lay out the cards in neat little packs. + +"Bulbs are coming through nicely. I was hoping to spend a day or two +in the garden but I'm afraid not--'fraid it won't be possible." + +Cassis put his hands behind his back. + +"This business," he said. + +"Yes." + +Lord Almont Frayne, a rather resplendant young man of thirty, came into +the room with all the bounce of youth. His chin shone from a ten +minutes' old shave, his hair clove to his head like fresh laid paint +and the crease in his trousers was razor edged. + +"Most awfully sorry, dear hearts," he exclaimed in clamourous apology. +"Deuce of a late night at Thingumy's ball. Do excuse." + +From which the reader may assume that his lordship was a bit of an +ass--but no. Under the ecstatic exterior of twentieth century modern +man-about-townism there existed in the composition of Lord Almont many +of the shrewd qualities that had made his father one of the richest +bankers in England. People in the know would assure you it was not +only luck that had kept the parental millions secure and had even +increased them after the old gentleman's decease. Lord Almont had a +sense of the market and his intelligence was not entirely devoted to +matters sartorial. + +"Anybody have anything? No. Too early? Infernally hot in here. Mind +if we have a window up?" + +Cassis was only just in time to lodge an objection. + +Lord Almont pointed to the street. + +"Here comes old Cranbourne bobbing along. Shall we wait?" + +Mr. Torrington continued playing his patience game until Cranbourne was +announced. And if you are interested to know what manner of man +Cranbourne might be then turn to the description of the diner at the +table near the door in the Berkeley Café. As to his associations with +these other gentlemen it remains only to be said that he was a supplier +of ideas and occasionally of ideals. + +"Anybody know anything?" said Lord Almont. + +Cassis shrugged his shoulders negatively. + +Mr. Torrington put down a card. + +"Waste of time," he said. "Waste of time. Barraclough will never get +out of London by ordinary ways. It was a useless attempt." + +"Well, we don't know." + +"He hadn't got through at ten thirty last night," said Cranbourne. "He +was dining at the Berkeley Grill. 'Course he might have had a shot +later." + +"Did you speak to him?" + +"No--just nodded. Billings tells me he was shot at when he tried to +make the tug on the river." + +"The boat was shot at, you mean," said Cassis. + +"Anyone rung him up this morning?" asked Mr. Torrington. + +"No, it was arranged we shouldn't." + +"Then he's sure to be here soon." + +The remark was prophetic for as the words were spoken Barraclough was +announced. + +"No good," he said. + +"You look tired, Barraclough," observed Mr. Torrington, who thought +about men as well as money. + +"Am a bit." + +"Did you try to make Hendon?" + +"Did I try? Yes, I tried and travelled a Wild West shooting man on the +lid of the cab who worked a hold up by The Welsh Harp. Far as I can +see there must be hundreds out to prevent me." His mouth hardened. +"But I'm going to do it. I mean to do it somehow." + +Mr. Torrington smiled sweetly. + +"Ardent young man," he said. + +Cassis put his finger tips together and remarked: + +"Recklessness is a luxury we can't afford." + +"I'm prepared to take chances," said Barraclough. + +Mr. Torrington quoted: + + "'On the sand drift, on the veldt side, in the fern scrub we lay. + That our song might follow after by the bones on the way.'" + + +"That's all very well," said Cassis sourly, "but our sons won't be able +to follow after so long as Barraclough obstinately determines to keep +the secret entirely to himself." + +"Pooh! pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Torrington. "That was understood." + +"It was," said Barraclough and swivelled round to face Cassis. "I've +said frankly that until I get the concession no one but myself will be +told the map reference. That's absolute." + +Cassis sniffed. + +"It was a pity you didn't get the concession when you made the +discovery." + +"You know quite well that I wasn't sure. A false move might have +brought every prospector in the world to the place--would have done. +Besides with all this post-war territorial shuffle it was pretty nearly +impossible to say which government actually owned the land. Been jolly +if we'd got a title too soon and from the wrong people." + +"But the territorial point has been cleared up now, hasn't it?" Cassis +put the question shrewdly. + +Barraclough shut up like a clam and made no answer. + +Lord Almont butted in. + +"Still you're pretty confident of getting the concession if you manage +to get clear." + +Barraclough nodded. + +"If I can slip through and they don't stop me I'll be back with the +whole thing settled in three weeks from the hour of starting." + +"And during those three weeks," said Cassis sourly, "Van Diest and his +crowd will subject us to an intensive course of financial buffeting. +As matter of fact he has begun already." + +"Well, it was no fault of mine the other side knew anything about it," +said Barraclough. "If your confidential secretary had kept his mouth +shut----" + +"There is no use in discussing that," said Cassis. + +Mr. Torrington swept the cards into a heap and shuffled them to and fro +like a cook making pastry. + +"Getting very active is Van Diest," he remarked. "Not a good loser, +poor fellow. Quite set his heart on getting into our little syndicate. +Started unloading American Rails yesterday afternoon--broke the market +badly. I had to reciprocate by selling Dutch Oils. Our losses on the +day were about equal." + +Lord Almont remarked that his broker had rang him up to tell him of a +fuss. Had no idea Van Diest was at the back of it. Cost him about ten +thousand but he held on. + +"Quite so and it's all very well if we are going to get a return for +our losses," said Cassis. "But so long as Barraclough is held by the +heels we become a mere kicking post for the opposition. Not good +enough." + +"Any suggestions?" said Barraclough. + +"Yes. I suggest under the seal of confidence you inform us of the +exact location of this field and we dispatch a trustworthy servant to +carry out the necessary negotiations." + +Barraclough remained silent. + +"If you refuse to adopt that view all I can see for it is either to +drop the whole thing or to let Van Diest come in and split the profit." + +For one instant the placid blue eyes of Mr. Torrington were lit with a +shiny white fire. + +"Van Diest will not be in this, Cassis," he said. + +"But look here, dear old Mr. Torrington," Lord Almont exclaimed. +"Surely you agree that Barra ought to give us his trust." + +The old man smiled whimsically. + +"Think so?" he said. + +"I mean to say, we're not the kind of people to take advantage of a +man." + +"Nonsense! Of course we are," came the answer. + +"That's honest," Barraclough laughed. + +"Not at all, my dear boy, it's a confession of dishonour of which I am +heartily ashamed." + +Cassis could not leave the subject alone. Tenacity was one of his +strong points. + +"Suppose you were killed," he suggested. "The secret would be lost for +all time. And where should we stand?" + +"Several degrees better than myself," was the answer. "You'll come out +with your lives." + +"That's not the point. Our involvement is equivalent to yours. Your +risk is physical, ours financial, and of the two, in my own opinion----" + +"I know," Barraclough cut in. "Our views are opposed about that. I +made the find and as soon as I have turned it into actual possession, +you will have the chance to exploit it, but until----" + +"Yes, but half a shake, old son," said Lord Almont. "How about the +marvellous healing properties--all the jolly old hospitals we were +going to endow. One doesn't want to be a dog in the manger." + +Barraclough grinned. Whatever other qualities Nature had bestowed upon +the ebullient peer philanthropy was not outstanding. + +"I notice in this argument," he said, "money came over the horizon +before the hospitals showed their smoke." + +"Then deposit the map reference in a safe place so we can get hold of +it if you break up." + +"And where it will be at the mercy of the first man with a jimmy and a +blow lamp. No, thanks." + +There are certain types of stubbornness that increase in direct ratio +to the pressure applied. To this type Barraclough belonged. He had +yet to find the man who could induce him to talk against his will. +Woman? Ah, that's a different matter. The argument took an angry turn. + +"It occurs to me," said Mr. Torrington sweetly, "it was a pity I +deserted my greenhouses this morning. We remain _in statu quo ante_." + +A reproach from Mr. Torrington seldom failed to reach its mark. + +"I'm sorry," Barraclough apologised, "but I give you my solemn word +that somehow I'll win you the purse." + +"The purse," Mr. Torrington smiled. "One almost forgets the purse in a +case like this. It is eclipsed by the will to succeed. Adventure! +The one thing of which old people never tire." + +And then it was that Cranbourne who, curled up in the window seat with +his chin resting on his knees, had taken no part in the debate, made +his first observation. + +"If Barraclough is to succeed it will have to be in the next three +days. At midnight on the 27th he is going to be kidnapped." + +All eyes turned upon Cranbourne as he made this announcement. + +"How the devil do you know that?" exclaimed Barraclough. + +Nugent Cassis answered the question. + +"We have our private information bureau in the opposite camp." + +"Ah! Anyone I know?" + +"That's immaterial." + +"I think I deserve your confidence." + +"Have you given us yours?" + +Barraclough lit a cigarette. + +"Oh, very well," he said. "So I'm to be kidnapped." + +"At twelve precisely," Cranbourne nodded. "In the course of the next +three days Van Diest will try the persuasion of bribes and failing +success you disappear, my friend, for a short inquisition." + +Barraclough shut his fists tight. + +"By God," he said. "So that's the way of it. Three days, what! I'll +break through that damned ring if it kills me." + +"I wonder," murmured Mr. Torrington. "Quite a lot I wonder. Still +it's great fun. Don't do anything in a hurry. Three days is a life +time. Take my advice, go and sit with your girl and calm down." + +"Good idea, I will. We shall meet again?" + +"Surely." + +"Au revoir then." + +As Barraclough moved toward the door Cranbourne spoke. + +"Why did you pass me by at the Berkeley last night?" + +Barraclough wrinkled his forehead perplexedly. + +"The Berkeley?" + +"Yes, about ten thirty." + +"At ten thirty I was plugging a man in the jaw at St. Pancras Station." + +Cranbourne sprang to his feet. + +"Honest?" he cried. + +"Honest." + +"And you never went to the Berkeley?" + +"Nowhere near it." + +A light of wild enthusiasm leapt into Cranbourne's eyes and he brought +his hands together with a loud report. + +"Got it," he cried. "Got it! Oh, what an idea!" + +"What's up with you?" + +The enthusiasm came under control but his voice still trembled. + +"It's all right, gentlemen, I can see a way. With any luck we'll +succeed. Don't do anything until eleven o'clock on the night of the +27th. I'm going to try and find someone." And he made for the door. + +"But hang it all," Lord Almont shouted, "be a bit more explicit." + +Cranbourne turned. + +"Have you missed it," he said. "Then here's something to think about. +Suppose Van Diest kidnaps the wrong man." The door slammed behind him. + +Mr. Torrington laid a card on the table with careful deliberation. He +was smiling. + +"Great fun," he murmured to himself. + + + + +CHAPTER 4. + +SITTING ON THE FLOOR. + +When Anthony Barraclough left the Mansions he walked up Park Lane and +turned into Green Street. Before a house with a white front door he +stopped and attacked the knocker. He was admitted by a parlourmaid and +informed that Miss Irish was in the boudoir. This was good news because +it meant sitting on the floor and lovers all the world over are at their +happiest when they sit on the floor. There is something soothing and +familiar about it. A man loves to sprawl and a woman is always at her +best curled up among cushions. It is impossible to be disagreeable when +you are sitting on the floor. You couldn't conceivably have a row in +that position. Perhaps a little sulking might be done but very little +and only of the kind that provokes pleasant makings-up. Altogether it is +a jolly fine institution and the world would be a better place if there +was more of it. + +In the opinion of Anthony Barraclough no one sat on the floor so divinely +as Isabel, and to tell the truth he rather fancied himself as her floor +partner. + +"Don't you bother," he said to the maid. "I'll make my own way up." + +He handed over his hat and stick and mounted the stairs and knocked at a +door on the second floor. + +"May I come in?" he asked and did not wait for the reply. + +Isabel was built in among a nest of squabs and cushions that circled the +tiny grate. + +"Nice!" she said with a grin. "I was beginning to think you were +deserting me. Rang up three times yesterday I did." + +"Awful busy I was," he returned and disposed himself luxuriously beside +her. Then he said 'Please' and had every reason to say 'Thank you' only +he preferred to express it otherwise. + +"What you been doing?" + +"Trous-sewing," she answered nodding at a small basket decorated with +silk fruit and overflowing with pieces of flimsy needlework. "But I've +been dull. Where were you yesterday?" + +"All over the place. North, south, east and west and the nor'-nor's and +the sou'-sou's into the bargain. It was a hectic day." + +Something in the forced gaiety of his voice made her look at him +critically. + +"Anything wrong?" he asked. "I know I'm not handsome but----" + +"I don't know yet," she continued looking, "but you've a kind of flat +look at the corners of your eyes where the fun ought to be." + +"Now what on earth do you mean by that?" + +"A lot. Tony! Almost you've got the----" + +"Well?" + +"The money face." + +"Money face?" + +"Um! You mustn't laugh, it's a dreadful face. Daddy had it. He caught +it during the rubber boom and it never went away. Are you still doing +things with that beastly syndicate, Tony?" + +"Here, chuck it," he implored humorously. "We're sitting on the floor, +you know. 'Tisn't fair." + +But her expression remained very grave. + +"I sometimes believe," she said, "you think that's all I'm good for. You +don't talk to me as I want you to talk. I'm not always sitting on the +floor, Tony. It's lovely at times, but other times I'm different. +I'm--oh, I'm a bit of a surprise really." + +"What is it you want to know?" + +"I want to be told what you're doing 'cos I've a funny feeling it +isn't--oh! I don't know." + +"You extraordinary child. It's perfectly all right. Rather important, +that's all. There's nothing for you to bother about. I was going to +tell you because I shall have to be away for three weeks and I +thought----" + +"Three weeks? But we were going to be married on----" + +"Yes, that's rotten part. Still the invitations haven't gone out--and if +we were to put it off ten days to be on the safe side----" + +"Our wedding!" she said. + +"I wouldn't have had it happen for the world. It's frightful bad luck +but----" + +Isabel drew up her knees. Very little and lovely she looked. Her big +brown eyes were open wide and her lower lip was drawn in. A shock of +chestnut hair framed the sweet oval of her face. Tony had said she was +like a serious angel and he was right. + +She nodded twice. + +"It must be very important," she said, "if we have to postpone our +wedding. I see." + +"You don't see," he said edging closer to her. "You can't because I +haven't wanted to worry you with details, but it is important--enormously +important." + +"More important than I am?" + +"'Course not." + +"Yet it takes you away from me." + +"Only for a little while--and look, dear, I don't want you to tell anyone +I'm going." + +"Why not?" + +"Because--well, it mustn't be known." + +"Tony, is--is what you have to do dangerous?" + +He answered evasively. + +"What I have to do--no." + +"Then let me come too. We could be married first. I don't want a +fashionable wedding. Let's do that." + +He hesitated. + +"Couldn't be done, dear. It wouldn't be----" + +"Safe?" + +"Practicable." + +"You don't trust me." + +"Of course I trust you," he said putting his arms round her. "I've +trusted you from the moment we first met and I'm going on trusting you +all the rest of my life. Isn't that good enough?" + +"Not nearly," she answered and rose to her feet. + +"Isabel," he said very seriously. "When I tell you that there are huge +interests at stake--that all this is for something that--that defeats +imagination, surely you will take my word." + +She pressed a finger to her chin. + +"Huge interests means money." + +"It does," he replied, "but money on a colossal scale--illimitable. +Doesn't that appeal to you?" + +"No," she said. "I've all I want and you're well enough off. What's the +good of more?" + +"Just listen," he said. "If I bring off this deal there is no wish in +the world one couldn't gratify, and bring it off I shall." + +He started to pace up and down the narrow floor space of the tiny room, +his hands opening and shutting and a light of enthusiasm dancing in his +eyes. It was not the money face he wore as he spoke but the expression +of the man of deeds, the man who joyed in accomplishment, in vanquishing +difficulty, in facing long odds, buoyed up and carried along by the will +to win. + +"You can't understand, my dear, all this means to me and will mean to +you. I haven't even imagined it myself. Think! We could buy islands, +build hospitals, govern nations if the mood prompted us. And all for +three weeks' work. Lord, it's--Oh! if I could make you see how big it +is--how magnificent." + +And womanlike she responded, + +"I want you, Tony, the rest only frightens me." + +"Forget the money," he said, "and bear this in mind. If I succeed the +world will be richer by a tremendous healing force." + +"A medicine?" + +"Call it a medicine. It's lying out in the open within a little march of +the common ways of men and women. I tumbled on the find by a stroke of +luck and a little knowledge and a word inside me that whispered, 'Look, +go and look.' You've read Kipling's 'Explorer'--I read it you. +'Something lost behind the ranges--something hidden, go you there.' It +was like that with me--a pringly feeling--a kind of second +sense--expectancy--belief--certainty. Nature has a trick of showing the +combination of her treasure safe to one man before the rest--and I was +the man." + +The little chestnut head shook helplessly from side to side. + +"What is it you've found?" said Isabel. + +He looked at her searchingly and hesitated. + +"If I tell you you'll keep it secret?" + +"Yes." + +"Honest?" + +"Honest." + +He dropped his voice. + +"It's radium," he said. + +She repeated the word dully. + +"Radium as it never had been found before. A--whew! an inexhaustible +supply. Look--look here!" + +He drew from his pocket a small black cylinder with a glass peephole at +the top, protected by a circular cap of a dark substance. + +"It's the finest piece of radium ever found," he said, "and where I got +it, at a single dip of the shovel--but never mind that. See, protect it +with your hand so, and look through that eyehole." + +At the bottom of the cylinder was a luminous speck like a fire seen from +a long way off. Waves and jags of angry light burst from it ceaselessly, +this way and that. The restless mass was alive, active, burning. +Infinitesimal though its dimensions were it gave a sense of illimitable +force and power, a prodigious energy. + +Isabel returned the cylinder with a nervous shudder. + +"I don't like it," she said. "It--it's horrid somehow--wicked looking." +She shot a quick glance at him. "You say this is going to be of value to +the world!" + +He nodded. + +"Then why are you in danger? Why aren't you protected as someone who-- +Why are you in danger?" + +He didn't answer at once and again she repeated the question. + +"It's this way, dear," he said. "When anything great enough is +discovered there is bound to be competition. I found the stuff but I +haven't the capital to exploit it. I took my samples to a ring of +financiers who are backing me." + +"Mr. Torrington? Mr. Cassis?" + +"Cranbourne--Frayne--that crowd. By sheer bad luck another ring got news +of what was going on and are moving heaven and earth to get a share in +the plunder." + +"So it's plunder now," she said. + +"From their point of view." + +"And from yours?" + +"Achievement--a game." + +"That you're willing to risk your life for." + +"One doesn't think of that," he answered. + +"I do," she said. + +"Wish I could give you some of my enthusiasm. What is it old Kipling +says again: + + 'The game is more than the Player of the Game + 'And the ship is more than the crew.'" + + +"Old Kipling, as you call him, wrote for men. What did he know about +_me_?" + +"Enough to guess you wouldn't have much use for us if we shirked standing +our chances." + +"The chances being?" + +"The assault or favour of the other side." + +"Favour?" she repeated. + +Barraclough nodded and took from his pocket a folded sheet of notepaper. + +"Listen to this," he said and read: "'Dear Mr. Barraclough, if you would +grant me ten minutes private conversation, at your own convenience, I +should be pleased to reward the courtesy with a sum of twenty-five +thousand pounds. Faithfully yours, Hugo Van Diest.' And that's only +ground bait." + +"Did you meet him?" + +"No fear." + +Isabel rubbed her forehead perplexedly. + +"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't understand. But if this radium +belongs to your side already----" + +"That's just it," he explained. "I haven't got the concession yet. They +know that--it's what makes 'em so devilish active. You'll understand +they'll do their best to prevent me getting to the place." + +Her eyes opened very wide. + +"Their best? D'you mean they'd----" + +"Lord, no. There'd be no point in that unless they had the map reference +first." + +"You'll be gone three weeks?" + +"That's all." + +"They'll follow you?" + +"You bet they'll try." + +"Suppose they got you! Tony! _Tony_, they might try and make you speak." + +He did his best to calm her but she went on furiously. + +"It's true. Men are brutes--vile beasts--where money is concerned. Oh, +I hate this--hate every bit of it. Power--healing--it's only another +name for the money grab--the horrible cutthroat money grab. Tony, you +shan't go--I won't let you go--I'll prevent you by every means----" + +"Now, my dear," he begged, putting his arms about her, "be a good +sensible little girl--be a baby for three weeks. You've all your +trousseau to get--heaps of people to see. Why not run over to Paris for +a week? Then there's my mother in Devon. She'd be tremendously bucked +if----" + +"Is this place abroad?" said Isabel. + +"I can't tell that even to you." + +"When are you starting?" + +"Probably in three days' time--latish." + +"You're determined to go?" + +"I must." + +"Nothing I can say will prevent you?" + +"I'm sorry, dear." + +"Hm!" said Isabel. "Then I suppose we'd better make the most of the time +that's left." + +And very slowly she subsided on the Cushion pile in the corner, her chin +resting on his shoulder and her left hand playing idly with a long gold +tassel. + +"Oh, you angel," he exclaimed, "I knew you wouldn't really make any +difficulties. And there's no need to be frightened because they're +fixing me up the easiest get-away in the world." + +"I haven't promised anything," she answered noncommittally. Her eyes +flashed up to his and in them shone the sweetest light imaginable. "But +just for now I'm sitting on the floor again." + +They forgot all about lunch. + + + + +CHAPTER 5. + +EXPERIENCES OF A VAGRANT. + +Richard Frencham Altar awoke betimes--as a fact he had been disturbed +when the four o'clock patrol came round but subsequently slept for +another spell. In the shuffle up he had changed the order of his +companions and as he opened his eyes for the second time he found himself +beside an old lady, generously skirted and shawled, who wore a hat from +which the bare quills of several ostrich feathers pointed this way and +that in raffish confusion. In her lap was a sack containing her various +possessions. Richard watched dreamily as she emptied its contents upon +the pavement and sorted them out in some kind of order. The proceeding +was vaguely reminiscent of a barrack room kit inspection. So far as he +could judge she was separating wardrobe from larder, the two having +become painfully confused during the preceding day's march. To one +inexpert in such matters it would have been hard to decide which was +eatable and which wearable, and Richard observed the operation with a +mixture of amusement and disgust. Having discovered her breakfast and +selected a piece of rag to act as napkin, tablecloth, and subsequently a +face towel, the old lady restored the remainder of her effects to the +'valise' and fell to. Noticing Richard was awake she addressed him in a +singularly soprano voice. + +"I'm up a bit early today," she remarked and added "Lovely air, isn't it?" + +The unexpected aestheticism of the remark robbed him of speech. Ho had +looked for mutterings or execrations but instead here was amiability and +appreciation overriding adversity. A powerful desire possessed him to +shake hands with his new acquaintance, but he did not risk it, being +unacquainted with the proper etiquette of the benches. Recovering his +composure he agreed about the pleasant quality of the air and threw in a +word of praise for the sparrows. + +"Dear little things," said the old lady over the grey crust to which she +was applying a single tooth. Having gnawed off a corner she threw a +glance at him. "Just come down?" she questioned. + +Richard nodded. + +"My first night," he said, "and I've rarely spent a better, though I +confess I should enjoy a shave and a wash." + +"There's a bit of mirror in the tobacconist," she nodded over her +shoulder. "I often freshen up in front of it when the mood takes me. +Many's the hat I've changed before that glass. But then I don't bother +much these days." Once again her critical glance came in his direction. +"After a time one loses interest, y'know." + +The sentiment struck Richard chillily. + +"And yet," he said, "you appear to have kept in touch with cheerfulness." + +"Ah, but I'm old," she answered, "and to old people one thing's as good +as another. But if I was you I wouldn't be content." + +"I've no intention of being content," he said. "I just happen to have +hit the rocks but I'll get sailing again one of these days." + +"Well I'm glad to hear you say so, and now I must toddle along." + +He asked what employment could engage her at so early an hour. + +"I'm going to pick over the dustbins in Bond Street," she returned, and +added "You never know what you'll find. Only you must be early. Goo' +morning." And with a sunny smile the disreputable old thing shuffled +away warbling a snatch of song as she went. + +"By Jove," said Richard, "I suppose that's about what I'm doing--picking +over dustbins and wondering what I shall find." + +He looked across the park to where the golden orb of the sun was rising +over the tree tops and lifted his hat in salutation. + +"Good morning, day," he said. "Your servant to command. Gad! but I +could do with some breakfast." + +He rose and walked briskly toward Knightsbridge. The coffee stall by +Hyde Park Corner attracted his attention. A few early carters and an +occasional loafer were gathered about it and the smell of victuals was +tempting. Richard noticed the driver of a large dray was leaning against +the railings pouring tea into the saucer of his cup. He was a big man +and his apparel was conspicuous by the fact that he wore a collar but no +tie. The omission suggested an idea. + +"Do you want a tie by any chance?" Richard asked and listened to a highly +decorated ambition to know what he was talking about. + +"Only this," he answered. "I've a notion I could do with some breakfast +and it occurred to me as you might like to buy me one in exchange for a +perfectly good Etonian tie." + +For a space the driver examined Richard's necktie in thoughtful silence +and his expression softened. + +"I reckon that 'ud suit me," he observed judicially. + +"It would," said Richard, "and a hard boiled egg would suit me with a cup +of coffee to moisten it." + +Somehow the absence of a tie seemed to ease the passage of the simple +fare down his gullet and Richard felt twice his own man as he turned +jubilantly into the park and swung along the lower walk. The breakfast +had heartened him and he was ready to face the future with a bold front. + +"I'll take a bit of a constitutional," he said, "and later on roll round +to a labour bureau and see what's doing." + +He paused for a moment by the rails of Rotten Row and watched some early +horsemen canter by. In one of them he recognised an old acquaintance and +instinctively covered the lower half of his face with his hand. His chin +felt prickly to the touch for his beard had grown rapidly during the +night. As a scrupulous twice-a-day shaver his senses rebelled at the +notion of weed upon his face. However, it was useless to lament over +trifles like that. + +"I know," he said to himself. "A dip in the Serpentine." + +A quarter of an hour later he was cutting through the water with long +powerful strokes. On returning to the shore he had the good fortune to +borrow a cake of soap from another bather who appeared, from the modesty +of his folded garments, to be in equally hazardous financial +circumstances. + +"To tell the honest truth," his new acquaintance confided, "I bagged that +bit of soap from a Great Eastern Railway carriage. Managed to nip in and +collar it when no one was looking. Suppose I'm a thief of sorts but a +man loses self respect if he doesn't wash." + +They sat side by side until the pale sunlight had partially dried them. + +"You broke?" Richard queried. + +The man shook his head seriously. + +"No, I'm a millionaire," he replied, "only I haven't any money--not a +bean. Spent it all making myself rich. Look at this." + +He untied a string that circled his neck. (Richard had noticed the +string and a small linen bag it supported.) He opened the bag and +produced a piece of yellow metal about the size of a lump of sugar. + +"It's gold," he said. + +Richard agreed that it looked like gold and asked where he found it. + +"I made it," came the astonishing reply. "You needn't worry, it is gold +all right. Bear any test." He restored it to the bag. "Seems stupid," +he went on, "that here am I, with the knowledge to command millions, and +I haven't a sou in my pocket. Cheap process, too, once you've got the +plant. Dirt cheap. 'Course it's getting the plant's the trouble. No +one'll believe me. Disheartening. Took that sample to the Bank of +England--they asked me where I bought it--bought it! Lord! Oh well--one +of these days, I suppose. Meet again perhaps. G'bye." + +And with a cheery wave of the hand he vaulted the railings and ran +lightly across the grass. + +"I'm damned," said Richard. "If a fellow like that can make gold it +follows to reason I ought to be able to make good." + +It was after nine o'clock when Richard turned down the Earl's Court Road. +He stopped before a small sweet stuff shop, attracted by a card in the +window which read, "Letters may be addressed here, 1d." + +"I suppose a man, even in my circumstances, ought to have a town +address," he argued. "After all, one never knows." + +Accordingly he entered and registered under the modest name of John Tidd. +To the little old lady who wrote it down in a small laundry book devoted +to the purpose, he said he was probably going abroad and later might send +a request to forward correspondence. It was a dignified and pleasant +transaction although he was conscious of a feeling that he would have +created a more agreeable impression had he retained his necktie. + +Coming out of the shop he fell into line with the tide of city workers +moving southward to the underground station. These were the nobility of +commerce who picked up the reins of office at nine forty-five--persons of +substance in no way to be confused with the eight-thirty worker. It was +an honourable association to walk down the Earl's Court Road in such +company. Richard swung along at an even gait with an important looking +individual in a hard felt hat to the right of him and a stout gentleman +with a King Edward beard to the left. The three entered Earl's Court +Station abreast and approached the barrier, where Richard stepped aside +and let them pass through. Leaning against the grill gates was a man +reading a folded copy of the _Daily Sketch_. He looked at Richard for an +instant, then looked again searchingly. The repeated action attracted +Richard's notice and their eyes met. + +"Hardly worth while, is it?" said the man. + +"I beg your pardon," Richard returned. + +"Oh, that's quite all right--but I really wouldn't bother with it." He +pointed at the opening of Richard's waistcoat and smiled. "That's rather +a sound notion--no tie--distracts the eye from looking too keenly at the +face. You nearly passed me." + +"To be perfectly frank," Richard answered, "I shouldn't have bought crêpe +if I had." + +The man laughed. + +"Getting pretty sick of it, aren't you?" he queried. + +A sure conviction possessed Richard that he was in the presence of a +lunatic. + +"On the contrary," he replied, "I'm just beginning to enjoy myself." + +"Well, well, there's no accounting for tastes. But I should have thought +you'd have had enough of railway stations. Better go home and stay +there." + +Richard shook his head sympathetically. + +"Try taking a little more soda in it," he suggested. "You'd be a +different man inside a week. So long." + +The watcher by the gate was smiling pleasantly to himself as Richard +turned away. + +It was nearly one o'clock when his wanderings brought him back to the +neighbourhood of Piccadilly. He had spent the intervening hours, with +little enough success, at the labour bureau in Westminster. From there +he had walked across the Mall and found an empty bench under the trees in +Green Park looking up Park Lane. He had hardly seated himself when he +saw a man come out of a big doorway opposite and hurry eastward in the +direction of Piccadilly Circus. Even at the distance Richard had no +difficulty in recognising the diner who overnight had nodded to him at +the Berkeley. + +"Half a mind to give him a shout," he thought, but on reflection "I don't +know though, he seems in the deuce of a hurry and I can't imagine he's +any work to give away." + +It would have saved Cranbourne a lot of trouble if he had followed his +first inclination. + + + + +CHAPTER 6. + +CONCERNING A TIE. + +Not a word had been received from Cranbourne. From the moment he left +Lord Almont's flat he disappeared completely. That was Cranbourne's +way, for once an idea started in his brain he rested not until it has +been realised or disproved. He had given himself three days to find a +human duplicate of Barraclough and among a population of seven millions +the task was no easy one. His quarry had dined at the Berkeley on the +twenty-fourth instant but beyond that point information languished. +The redoubtable Brown, prince of head waiters, who knew the affairs of +most of his customers as intimately as his own, was able to offer +little or no assistance. He remembered the gentleman who had dined +alone in a tweed suit and had said something about having no dress +clothes. He believed he had seen him in uniform during the earlier +parts of the war but couldn't recall the regiment. Had an impression +he paid for his dinner with the last of the notes in his pocket but +that might mean nothing. "A pleasant gentleman, spoke crisply and had +a smile." John, of the cloakroom, recalled a half crown thrown on his +little counter in return for a soft hat--"Wait a bit, sir, by a +Manchester hatter I believe," and a rainproof coat "rather thinnish and +brown." + +The Manchester hat stuck in Cranbourne's throat a trifle since it +widened the circle of enquiry. + +The porter at the revolving door believed the gentleman had gone toward +Piccadilly--walking. Yes, he was sure he hadn't taken a cab. Gave him +a shilling and five coppers. + +Cranbourne thanked them and spent the rest of the day passing in and +out of every well known grill room in London. It was sound enough +reasoning but it brought no results. At twelve o'clock the same night +he paid a flying visit to all the dancing rooms--Murray's, Giro's, +Rector's, The Embassy, Savoy and half a dozen others. At three o'clock +he rang up Daimler's, hired a car and drove to Brighton because many +men come up from Brighton by day and bring no evening clothes. Besides +the time of his departure from the Berkeley plus a walk to Victoria +Station more or less synchronised with the down train to Brighton. He +spent the best part of the following day racing through hotel lists and +looking up visitors at Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings and Folkestone. +He was back in Town again by 7.30, at the Theatre Library, where he +bought a single ticket for twelve musical plays and revues selecting +them from the class of entertainment Barraclough himself would have +been likely to attend. It was a restless evening, dashing from one +place to another and sorting over the audiences in the narrow margin of +time allowed by intervals. Afterwards he spent an hour by the fountain +in Piccadilly Circus keenly examining the thousands of passers-by. + +It was very late indeed when he struck one hand against the other and +cried out, + +"Oh, my Lord, what a fool I am." + +A new significance had suddenly suggested itself as a result of Brown's +repetition of the mysterious diner's remark, "I repeat I have no +evening clothes." Cranbourne had taken it to imply that there had been +no time to dress but why not accept it literally. + +Two whole days wasted looking at men in white shirt fronts and black +coats! + +"Lord, what an idiot I am. Alter your line of thought and alter it +quick." + +He began to walk briskly, muttering to himself as he strode along. + +"No dress clothes--deuce of an appetite. Chap who had scraped up a few +guineas perhaps to do himself well--on the bust. No, that won't do. +Ordered his dinner too well for that. Had the air of a man accustomed +to the best places. Brown said so. A shilling and five coppers to the +porter. Queer kind of tip! What in blazes was the fellow doing? What +sort of company does he keep?" + +Cranbourne jumped into a taxi and returned to the Berkeley. It was +closed but a night porter admitted him. + +"Look here, I want to get hold of Brown," he said. + +"You're in luck, sir," the man returned. "One of our visitors 'as been +giving a supper and Mr. Brown was in charge. If 'e 'asn't gone I'll +try and get him for you." + +He returned a moment later with Brown following. + +"Tremendously sorry," said Cranbourne, "but I want to ask you a few +more questions about that fellow I spoke of." + +"I've been thinking about him myself, sir, and one or two things have +come to mind. Remembered his tie for instance." + +"Yes." + +"Old Etonian colours," said Brown. + +Cranbourne nodded enthusiastically. + +"Anything else?" + +"I was looking over his bill this afternoon and it seems to me he did +himself too well to be natural. Rare for a man by himself to order a +long dinner like that. Then again he looked at the prices on the menu +just as if he meant to spend up to a certain amount. Something odd in +that--unusual. But I'm pretty sure it was in his mind, sir." + +"And you believe he spent the last of his notes." + +"Certain of it." + +"What's your idea?" + +"He was very hungry--eat everything put before him. I should +say--'course it's only a guess----" + +"Well?" + +"He'd gone a bit short and was wanting that meal." + +"Did he seem depressed?" + +"Not a bit. Rather amused. But it struck me when he got up he looked +like a man saying goodbye to his mother." + +"How old should you think?" + +"Thirty-two or three." + +"Old Etonian tie?" + +"Yes." + +"You're a man of experience, Brown," said Cranbourne. "Ever known a +case of a chap who's on the point of going under, blueing the last of +his cash on one big dinner?" + +"I should just think so. There's a type does that sort of thing." + +"His type?" + +"Or one very like it." + +"Many thanks. You've helped me no end. Now I'll get a taxi and drive +to Windsor. Goodnight." + +Just beyond the Ritz he found a taxi willing to undertake the journey. +It was a pity he found it so easily for a hundred yards further down +the slope the man he sought was sleeping fitfully on a bench facing +Green Park. + +It was not a lucky drive since it included three punctures and some +engine trouble. They came into Windsor about 7.30 in the morning. +Cranbourne made a hurried breakfast and set out to interview the +photographers of the town. The particular one he sought did not arrive +until nearly nine but on being questioned proved himself amiable and +anxious to help. He produced Eton school groups of fifteen years +antiquity and Cranbourne spent an hour anxiously scanning the faces of +the boys in the hope of tracing a likeness to Barraclough. But boys +are very much alike and very dissimilar from the men they grow into and +though there were several dozen who might well have passed for +Barraclough in infancy no particular one could have been selected with +positive assurance. Cranbourne made a list of twenty names and +Frencham Altar's was not among them. + +Rather despondent he said goodbye to the photographer and entered the +taxi. + +"Think I'll go back by the Bath Road," said the driver, "it's a better +surface." + +"Please yourself," said Cranbourne and settled himself within. + +He was beginning to feel a trifle done. His eyes had the sense of +having been sand papered and his lips were dry and parched from want of +rest. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. + +"Only thirteen hours left," he said and closed his eyes. + +Sleep comes very suddenly to the weary--like a pistol shot out of the +dark. Cranbourne's head pitched forward against his chest and his +hands slithered inertly from his knees. + +He awoke with a start to the sound of smashing glass, a sharp rattle of +imprecations and a sense of being turned upside down. The front +nearside wheel of the taxi was in a ditch, the wind screen broken and a +large dray horse was trying to put its fore hoof through the buckled +bonnet. The taxi driver had fallen out and lay cursing gently on the +grass slope to the left, one of his legs was up to the knee in water. +Through the offside window Cranbourne caught a glimpse of the man in +charge of the dray horses--a powerful person, high perched, his weight +thrown bask against the tightened reins--his face purple with effort. +From his mouth came an admirable flow of oaths, choicely adjusted to +suit the occasion. Then Cranbourne saw something else. Beneath the +man's vibrating jaw showed the pleasant colours of an Old Etonian tie. +There could be no mistaking it--neither could there be any reason why +the driver of a Covent Garden dray should exhibit such an ensign. + +Cranbourne let the window down with a bang, stuck out his head and +shouted, + +"Where the devil did you get that tie?" + +It is not hard to believe that this remark, apparently so irrelevant, +did little to calm an already excited situation. The driver loosed his +hold upon the reins, seized his whip and slashed it at Cranbourne's +head. Cranbourne caught the whistling thong and tugged hard, with the +result that the driver, who held on to the butt, lost his balance, +pitched forward on to the flank of the nearside dray horse and rolled +harmlessly on to the road. Cranbourne embraced the opportunity to get +out, seized the bit rings of both horses and backed them away from the +debris of the taxi. + +Meanwhile the driver picked himself up and removed his coat as a proper +preliminary to engagement. + +"Put 'em up," he invited Cranbourne. "Put 'um up, you----" but the +descriptive titles he employed do not affect the narrative. + +Cranbourne shook his head and tugged a note case from his pocket. + +"Five pounds," he said, "if you answer my question. Where did you get +it?" + +The driver exhibited some sample upper cuts and left hooks and +beseeched Cranbourne to guard himself. But Cranbourne detached a fiver +from its fellows and extended it temptingly. + +"Don't you see I'm in earnest, man?" + +The tone of his voice had a sobering effect and the amateur pugilist +ceased manoeuvring. + +"Why do you want to know?" he demanded. + +"Never mind that--take the money and tell me." + +"I got it," said the driver, "from a blame fool at the coffee stall by +Hyde Park Corner. Bought 'im a doorstep and a ball of chalk b'way of +return." + +"When was this?" + +"Day before yesterday--six o'clock in the morning." + +"And what was he like?" + +The answer clinched it. + +"Was he shaved?" + +"No." + +"Broke?" + +"I reckon. Been sleepin' out by the looks of 'im." + +"Seen him since?" + +"Couldn't be sure. Maybe it was 'im I saw sleepin' on the bench by the +Shelter 'Ouse in Piccadilly 'bout four this morning. There was a bloke +there with a soft 'at and a brown coat." + +Cranbourne produced another fiver and pushed it into the man's hand. + +"You're the best fellow I've met in years," he said. Then turning to +the taxi driver, "Get home as best you can. I'm going to look for a +lift. Here's my card. I'll stand your losses on this." + +He looked over his shoulder at the sound of a persistent croaking. A +long grey Vauxhall car with a special body was coming down the road at +speed. Cranbourne ran forward in its track, waving his arms. The man +at the wheel looked over and braked. The big car did a double two way +skid, tore serpentine ruts on the metalled road surface and stopped. + +"Trying to get killed?" asked its owner sweetly. "'Cos you seem to +have got the right idea of doing it." + +"I want to get to Town and get there quick," said Cranbourne. + +"So do I," said the man at the wheel, grinning amiably, "but it's a +daily habit of mine. In you get!" + +"By gad," said Cranbourne, leaping in as the car began to move, "I +believe you come straight from heaven." + +"I come from the Slough Trading Company as a matter of fact," said the +young man, running through his gears from first to top like a pianist +playing a scale. "Hope you don't mind a bit of noise. She talks some +when she's moving." + +He trod hard on the accelerator and somewhere behind a machine gun +opened fire, at first articulately and then, as the pace increased, +becoming an inarticulate solid roar. The beat of the engine, the sense +of speed and the rush of the wind past his ears infected Cranbourne +with a fierce exhilaration. + +"Bless your heart," he shouted, "keep her at it." + +"You bet," came the response. + +"Gad, she can move. You must have pretty urgent business to push her +along like this." + +"Want to buy some collars as a matter of fact," said the young man. +"No point wasting time on a job of that kind." + + + + +CHAPTER 7. + +THE NIGHT OF THE 27TH. + +At the flat in Albemarle Street Anthony Barraclough sat alone devouring +a grilled steak. He was reticent of speech and every now and then he +shot a glance at the clock. In the golden shadows beyond the rays of +the table lamp, Doran, his servant, stood in silent attention to his +master's wants. + +Doran was a person of understanding and one of the few people in the +world who shared a measure of Barraclough's confidence. A late +corporal of the Black Watch, he had reverted to act as Barraclough's +batman throughout the major portion of the war. Rather a curious +mixture was Doran. He had a light hand for an omelette and a heavy +fist in a mix up, a sense of humour in adversity and a seriousness in +ordinary affairs of daily life, a shrewd observer, a flawless servant +and a staunch ally. Very little got past Frederic Doran. + +Barraclough shook his head at a bundle of cheese straws and lit a +cigarette. + +"Get those things for me?" he asked. + +"They're in the dressing room, sir." + +"Let's have a look." + +Doran retired and returned almost immediately with a complete fireman's +outfit. Barraclough tried on the helmet and nodded approvingly. + +"Good enough. Stick 'em somewhere out of sight." And while Doran +obeyed he added, "Damn silly idea, isn't it?" + +"I haven't heard it, sir." + +"Oh, it has its points, I suppose. See, I've got to get clear of here +tonight and if--well--another scheme fails--I'm going to have a shot at +it this way. At eleven forty-five you'll go out and ring up some fire +engines." + +"Just so, sir." + +"I shall burn brown paper in that grate with the register closed. +Windows open at the bottom--plenty of smoke--effect of flames produced +by switching off and on the electric light. It ought to be good for a +crowd of about ten thousand. Soon as the engines roll up I go out +dressed as a fireman. Car at the top of St. James's Street. Coal +train in a siding at Addison Road which pulls out at twelve five. Me +under a tarpaulin somewhere. Whoosh! Gone!" + +"And after that, sir?" + +"Ah!" said Barraclough, "that's another story." + +"Do you fancy it much yourself, sir?" + +"Lord knows! The crowd ought to help. Reduces the odds in my favour a +bit." + +"At quarter to twelve, sir?" + +"Um. That'll be after the gentlemen have gone. Clear away this stuff +and put out some drinks. They'll be here at ten thirty. I'm going to +change into something thinner, that won't brush up under that fireman +gear. Got those notes?" + +"Here, sir." + +Doran produced a bulky package of bank notes. + +"Good man." + +He nodded and entered the bedroom to which there was a door below the +fireplace. + +A little later the bell rang imperatively, followed by a tattoo on the +knocker. + +"Who's that?" came from Barraclough's voice behind the closed door. + +"Don't know, sir." + +"What's time?" + +"Ten past." + +"They can't have arrived yet. Say I'm out." + +Doran withdrew and returned almost immediately. + +"Sir, there's----" + +Barraclough threw open the door and came into the room. He was in +trousers and a shirt and was fastening a tie. + +"Well?" + +"It's Miss Irish, sir. I said you were out but she didn't believe me. +Insisted on coming in." + +"Lord, that's awkward. Where did you leave her?" + +"The smoking room." + +"Say what she wanted?" + +"To see you, sir--very imperative." + +Barraclough bit his moustache and glanced at the clock. + +"Hm! I've ten minutes. Yes, all right. If the gentlemen arrive +meanwhile put 'em in the smoking room. Get a coat. Shan't be a +second." + +He disappeared into the bedroom and Doran went out to fetch Isabel. + +"If you'll take a chair, miss, he won't keep you a moment. The evening +paper?" + +"No," she said, "no." + +It was a very different Isabel from the curled up little person who sat +on the cushions. Her face was white and tense--her mouth drawn in a +line of determination. She shook her head at the offer of a chair and +waved Doran to go away. + +"Tony," she called as soon as the door had closed. "Tony." + +He came into the room buttoning his coat. + +"I say, my dear, you shouldn't have come here--really--really you +shouldn't," he said. + +"I had to--had to," she repeated. + +"You mustn't stay--these people'll be here directly." + +"Horrible money people," she returned, "and you'd send me away for +them." + +"I told you----" he began. + +"You told me they'd found an easy way for you to get out--a safe way. +It isn't true." + +"How do you know?" was startled from him. + +"I found out tonight from Lord Almont. Danced with him--made a fool of +him--pretended I knew all about it--pretended I was sorry there was not +going to be any excitement in the thing. Said I really only cared for +men who tackled danger. Looked at him as though I thought he was +wonderful." + +"I'll smash that fellow's head," said Barraclough grimly. + +"You needn't--he's loyal enough. Thought he was doing you a good +turn--both of us a good turn. Said it wasn't going to be quite so easy +as you'd expected. So now I know you see--know it's going to be +horridly, hideously dangerous." + +"Oh, my dear," he said, "why didn't you leave it alone?" + +"I'm not the sort," she answered. "Where I love, Tony, I--I protect." + +"You've a life time ahead to protect me in," he said. + +"I'm going to do it now," said she. "You're not going, Tony." + +"Listen," said Barraclough very earnestly, "there can't be any +interference in this. A false move now might ruin everything. If they +knew I was making a dash tonight----" + +"They will know." + +"How?" + +"I shall tell them." + +He shook his head. "Hardly, my dear. Besides I don't think you know +who to tell." + +"You forget the letter you showed me. Mr. Van Diest might be +interested." + +"I showed you that letter in confidence. You wouldn't betray----" + +"Oh, wouldn't I? I'd betray any confidence that would keep you safe." + +"It's lovely of you," he began. + +"And I shall do it too," she cut in. + +"Oh, very well," said Barraclough coldly. + +Her arms went round his neck and drew his cheek to hers. + +"Would you stop loving me if I did?" + +"I couldn't stop loving you whatever happened." + +"Oh, Tony, take me with you. I wouldn't mind then. I've promised to +share my life with you--aren't I good to share a single danger?" + +"Much too good." + +She released her hold and stood away. + +"So it's as grave as all that," said she. "Very well, if you refuse I +shan't marry you." + +"You don't mean that?" + +"Give me a bible--I'll swear it." + +"Isabel!" + +"You have two alternatives. Take me with you or tell me where this +place is." + +"What use would the knowledge be to you?" + +"All the use. If they got you I know very well they'd never make you +speak. You--you wouldn't." + +He nodded gravely at that. + +"But I should. It 'ud give me the power to bail you out. Do you +understand now?" + +"I understand I should be every sort of a coward if I told you on those +terms." + +"Oh, you man--you man," she cried. "Well, you've the choice." + +"To tell or lose you?" + +"Yes." + +In the silence that followed an electric bell rang sharply. + +"There they are," he exclaimed. + +"Be quick, I'm waiting," she said. + +"Can't you accept my word that it's better you shouldn't know?" + +"You've the choice," she repeated. + +Anthony Barraclough looked round him desperately, then he spoke very +fast. + +"If I tell you you'll do nothing--say nothing till eleven o'clock this +day three weeks?" + +"I promise." + +The words that followed rattled out like a hail of shrapnel. + +"Brewster's Series nineteen. Map twenty-four. Square F. North +twenty-seven. West thirty-three." + +"I'll write it down." + +"No, no, you won't," he cried. "I've fulfilled my part of the bargain +and you've forgotten it already." + +She fixed him with her clear blue eyes, square lidded and earnest. + +"Brewster's Series nineteen. Map twenty-four. Square F. North +twenty-seven. West thirty-three," she said. + +He looked at her in sheer amazement. + +"You wonder! You absolute wonder!" he gasped. + +"If I were dead I should remember that," she said. "It's stuck for +good." She touched her forehead, then quite suddenly her body went +limp and tilted against him. "Oh, but if only it were over," she +whispered huskily. "If only it were all--all over. Kiss me, please." + +"Never fear," he said, his arms tightening round her. "Never fear. I +couldn't fail with you waiting for me." + +He kissed her again and again. + +"Dear blessed beautiful little love of mine! Look, I'll take one of +your flowers as a mascot." + +"Hedge rose," she said and started. "It means hope, Tony." + +"Hope it is, my dear. God bless you." + +They stood apart as the door opened and Doran came in to announce the +arrival of the gentlemen. + +"All right. Attend to the front door. Miss Irish is going." + +Doran went out and Barraclough turned to Isabel. + +"Will you grin for me just once?" he begged. + +The small face went pluckily into lines of humour. + +"Not a very nice grin, Tony." + +"The best in the world," said he and hugged her close. + +They passed out of the room together. + +When Barraclough returned Mr. Torrington was leaning on his arm. +Nugent Cassis and Lord Almont Frayne followed in the rear. + +"I was sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Torrington," he apologised. + +"Waiting? No, no. We were early. My train arrived at Waterloo this +morning one minute ahead of time. It has put me out all day." The old +gentleman lowered himself by sections into an elbow chair. "Heard from +Cranbourne?" + +Barraclough shook his head. + +"Never expected you would," said Cassis shortly. "The whole scheme was +waste of time. We don't live in Ruritania where doubles walk about arm +in arm. Cranbourne has a bee in his bonnet." + +"A whole hive," Lord Almont interjected. + +"Perhaps," Mr. Torrington smiled, "but let us at least do him the +justice to admit that they buzz very merrily." + +Cassis shrugged his shoulders. + +"Buzzing is of no value in the present circumstances." + +Mr. Torrington continued to smile. + +"Except so far as it helps our young friend here to buzz off," he said. + +The modern slang on the lips of the octogenarian made Barraclough +laugh. But the nerves of Nugent Cassis were frayed and laughter was an +irritant. + +"Let us keep to the point," he insisted. "Did you follow out those +instructions I suggested?" + +Barraclough nodded. The idea of the false fire came from Cassis and, +like most of his schemes, suffered from complexity of detail. He began +enumerating the points to be sure that all was in order. + +Mr. Torrington shook his head and interrupted. + +"A silly idea," he said, "clever but silly." + +"If you have a better----" + +Mr. Torrington put his fingers together and continued slowly. + +"My method would be to go out through the main entrance wearing no hat +and carrying a few letters for the post. There might be a cab waiting +at the pillar box--to be exact there is, I ordered one." + +"That's the idea," cried Almont. "Sweet and simple." + +"That cab would dodge about the streets a while and eventually make its +way to Wimbledon. At Wimbledon it would deposit Barraclough at Number +14a, Medina Road. He would enter the house and change into running +shorts and a vest having appointed himself underneath with rather a +large pneumatic stomach. Also he would wear a beard and a perfectly +bald head. This done he would emerge from the house and start running +in the middle of the road in whatever direction he likes with a man on +a push bicycle pedalling behind him. + +"But I can't see----" Cassis began. + +"Precisely," said Mr. Torrington, "and nor could anyone else. Nobody +sees the extraordinary individuals who run at night, they only laugh at +them." + +"If you ask me," said Cassis, drumming his fingers on the mantelpiece, +"I am of opinion that we are merely losing time with all this talk and +the sooner we get Barraclough away the better." + +Mr. Torrington's eyes looked him coldly up and down. + +"You should know me well enough, Cassis, to realise that when I lose +time I lose it purposely. I am waiting for Cranbourne." + +"Cranbourne's ideas are altogether too fantastic." + +"We agreed to do nothing until eleven o'clock and it wants ten minutes +to the hour." + +"Not a very substantial margin to find Barraclough's double." + +"It is as easy to find a man in ten minutes as in ten years--a mere +matter of chance. For my own part I always favoured indifferent odds." + +"By Jove, sir," exclaimed Barraclough, "you're my man. Damn the +opposition. Damn the odds. We'll do it, what." + +A measure of his enthusiasm infected the old man. + +"We'll have a damn good try anyway." + +"And if it comes to a rough and tumble----" + +"Hit first and hit hardest." + +An electric bell swizzed. + +"He's there." + +"Failed," grunted Cassis. + +But Mr. Torrington's eyes were on the clock. + +"Since he is five minutes ahead of time I imagine he has succeeded." + +Doran came in. + +"Mr. Cranbourne, sir." + +"Alone?" Cassis rapped out the question like a pistol shot, but before +there was time to answer Cranbourne burst into the room, his face aglow +with excitement. + +"I've done it," he said. "It's all right--terrific." + +Lord Almont sprang to his feet. + +"You don't mean?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"The real Mackay?" + +"Alike as two postage stamps." + +"Where've you got him?" + +"Here, in your bathroom--changing." + +"Changing?" + +"Of course. Couldn't bring him as he was. They'd have spotted him for +certain. So I draped him in a nurse's cloak and cap over his ordinary +gear. Looked fine under a veil with his face painted pretty and pink. +He's washing it off now." + +"Is he like me?" said Barraclough. + +"Like you!" + +"How's he talk?" + +"As you do. I'd have been here earlier only he was hungry--devilish +hungry. He'd not eaten for best part of three days." + +"But you saw him at the Berkeley." + +"I know, that made it a bit difficult." + +"Come on," said Barraclough, "let's hear all about it." + +"Take too long. Had almost given up hope this morning, then I had a +stroke of luck--hit a red hot trail--spent the day chasing through the +West End staring at every man I saw. Got a glimpse of him at last in +Clarges Street 'bout nine o'clock. Taxi with a heap of luggage drove +up to a house and this chap came racing after it." + +Cassis threw up his hands. + +"Good heavens," he exclaimed, "a cab runner." + +"Not he--down and out, that's all. I might easily have missed him for +he'd grown a bit of a scrub on his chin during the last few days but +when I saw the way he had of standing and that same trick of the head +you've got I was sure enough. He's a sportsman, that chap, for he was +wanting food and yet some decent restraint stopped him coming forward +to help with the boxes. He'd meant to but at the last moment he +shirked it. I could see him wrestling with himself--a step forward, +then hesitating. At last the driver asked him to lend a hand with the +biggest trunk and he shouldered it and carried it into the house. When +he came out the fare was fumbling in his pocket for six-pences. It +must have been the sight of this cut into his pride. He hadn't a cent +of his own but something inside him rebelled. 'No, I'll be damned if I +can,' he said and made off down the street. I picked him up on the +bench by the cabbies' shelter ten minutes later. Made myself affable +and asked if he'd care to turn an honest fifty. In fact I gave fifty +as a bona fide. Told him to get himself shaved and roll round to +Clarkson's to be fixed up in the nurse's gear--and get some food too." + +"That was risky," remarked Lord Almont, "you might never have seen the +jolly old bird again." + +"I told you he was a gentleman, didn't I?" + +Mr. Torrington leaned forward. + +"Does he know what we want of him?" + +"Roughly. I said it was to occupy a flat for three weeks." + +"Ah! Barraclough, I am disposed to think you would do wisely to retire +into the next room while we interview this young gentleman. The less +he knows the better." + +"Quite." + +"There isn't a cupboard, I suppose, where you could fix yourself up +with an easy chair until--well until the kidnapping is over." + +"There's a wine cupboard." + +"Excellent. We'll have a word together before you go." + +There was a knock and Doran came in and addressed Cranbourne. + +"The gentleman wishes to have a word with you, sir." + +"Half a second," said Barraclough. "I'll slip out through the bedroom. +There's a second door into the hall. Righto, Doran." + +He disappeared, closing the door after him. + +"The gentleman, sir," Doran announced. + +Richard Frencham Altar came into the room. The privations of the +preceding three days had paled him a trifle. His eyes glittered +brightly and there was a hint of nervousness in the tenseness of his +lower lip. + +Doran went out. Richard closed the door and turned to face the +company. Mr. Torrington leaned forward and as though by accident +twitched down the table lamp shade that the light might be thrown on +the newcomer's face. Lord Almont gasped and even Cassis was startled +by the phenomenal likeness. Mr. Torrington nodded approval. + +Richard's eyes went quickly from one to another. Then his hand moved +to his throat and covered the empty space where his tie should have +been. No one spoke and under the battery of glances his muscles +tightened resentfully and his head jerked slightly to one side. + +"Anything so very peculiar about my appearance?" he demanded. + +Mr. Torrington was first to recover his composure and he rose with +difficulty. + +"You justly reproach our manners, Mr.--er----" + +"Anything you like," said Richard, then with a flash of memory, "Oh, my +name is Tidd--John Tidd." + +"By gad, it's amazing," gasped Lord Almont. + +Mr. Torrington waved his hand toward a chair but Richard shook his head. + +"No, thanks--won't sit down. I came because I promised this gentleman +to do so--but----" + +"I find it a little trying to stand," said Mr. Torrington. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. For a minute then." + +With an air of unwillingness he occupied a chair. + +"A little whiskey and soda?" Lord Almont suggested. + +"Not for me." + +"Cigarette?" + +"Ah! I'm a pernicious smoker." He lighted a cigarette, turned to Mr. +Torrington and nodded over his shoulder in the direction of Cranbourne. +"I'm afraid, sir, this gentleman took me at a disadvantage. To be +frank, I was hungry." + +Mr. Torrington shook his head despondently. + +"As the senior member of a firm of dyspeptics, established for over +fifty years, I envy you." + +"You needn't, sir,--it was pretty crucial. He offered me fifty quid to +occupy this flat for twenty-one days and to say 'no' to any question +that might be asked. I wasn't myself at the time--I accepted. Since +then I've had a good meal and that alters things. I hope, gentleman, I +shall cause you no inconvenience if I recall my promise." No one +replied and he went on. "My grub cost three and a bender and I spent a +bob in cigarettes." He fished some notes and silver from his pocket +and planked them on the table. "That's your change, gentlemen, if +someone would be good enough to count it over. You don't mind, I hope, +if I return the margin when I'm in a better position to do so. +Goodnight, gentlemen." He rose, nodded to the company and walked to +the door. + +Mr. Torrington did not look in his direction. He spoke gently as +though addressing an electric fitting on the wall facing him. + +"I am sorry, Mr. Tidd, you are indisposed to remain. My friend had no +thought of offending when he offered the temporary accommodation you +have just returned. It was our intention to reward the services of +whoever assisted us in this matter with a sum that a gentleman might +have no embarrassment in accepting. We should have been pleased to +place five thousand pounds to your account." + +Richard span round sharply. + +"Five thousand--for being a caretaker--you--you're joking--rather +unkindly." + +"On the contrary I am speaking very earnestly indeed." The tone of +voice was sincere. + +Again Richard looked from one to another. + +"You're a funny crowd," he laughed. "Ha! damn funny. S'pose you're +getting some sort of satisfaction out of it, but a man with a hole in +the sole of his boot doesn't much fancy having his leg pulled. +Goodnight." + +But Nugent Cassis intervened between Richard and the door. + +"We give you our word, Mr. Tidd, the sum mentioned will be at your +disposal tomorrow three weeks if you agree to remain." + +"Your words," said Richard with a touch of irony. "I suppose you +wouldn't care to give me your names as a guarantee?" + +"Assuredly," Mr. Torrington replied. "It was a mere oversight that we +have hitherto neglected to do so." And in the courtliest manner he +introduced the company by name. + +"The devil," said Richard, "I knew who you were all right, but I didn't +imagine you'd tell me. That--that makes a difference." He hesitated, +then sat down abruptly. "Well, come along, gentlemen, what is it you +want me to do?" + +Nugent Cassis, as the specialist of detail, briefly outlined their +requirements. He spoke coldly and without emphasis. The programme was +simple. Mr. Tidd would assume the name of Barraclough, he would occupy +these chambers, or wherever else circumstance might happen to take him, +for a period of three weeks. At the end of that time he might reveal +his identity or not as he pleased. It was understood, was it not, that +he would refuse to answer any questions that might be put to him. This +was a point of considerable importance since there was a likelihood +that pressure might be employed to induce him to speak. + +"I'm pretty close when I mean to be," said Richard. "But what is the +answer?" + +"As to that," Cassis replied, "I must ask you to contain your +curiosity." + +"Well, it shouldn't be hard to say I don't know." + +Cassis hoped so devoutly. + +"To tell the truth," said Mr. Torrington very sweetly, "we don't know +the answer ourselves." + +Richard shot a doubtful glance at him, but the seamed old face betrayed +nothing of the purpose it concealed. + +"It's all very mysterious," said Richard, "and I'm not sure I like the +look of it." + +"If you are nervous----" began Cassis icily. + +"Nervous be damned," he retorted. "I'm not easily scared, but I'd like +you to know this. I may have slipped down the ladder a bit, gentlemen, +but I'm not altogether an outsider." + +Lord Almont and Mr. Torrington made a duet with "My dear fellar!" and +"We have already realised that, Mr. Tidd." + +"So, if there's anything shady in the transaction?" + +"Nothing." + +Richard fixed on Cranbourne. "Political?" + +"No." + +"You've stirred my curiosity, gentlemen." + +Mr. Torrington leant forward and laid a hand on his arm, + +"To this extent we can satisfy it," he said. "We three are engaged +upon an operation of considerable magnitude." + +"I guessed that much, sir. When three men like yourselves forgather +one can generally look for balloons in the sky." + +"Just so. A gentleman in whom we are interested requires latitude to +conduct certain important activities with freedom from observation. To +provide latitude it is necessary we should persuade our opponents that +the gentleman is peaceably residing at his own home." + +"Half a minute. You want to get Barraclough out of the country or +somewhere and I'm to fill his place." + +Mr. Torrington nodded. "Am I like Barraclough?" + +"Remarkably so." + +Suddenly Richard sprang to his feet and brought his hands together. +"Tell me," he cried. "These opponents--have they made a blockade--to +prevent him getting away." + +"A most effectual blockade." + +Richard threw up his head and laughed. + +"Lord, so that was it. They tried to stop me at Earl's Court Station +day before yesterday. Oh, this is great, gentlemen. Come on, I'm your +man." + +"You consent?" + +"I consent all right." + +The three men exchanged glances of satisfaction. + +"Then if you will kindly ring the bell," said Cassis, "your servant, +Doran, will correct the details of your wardrobe." + +"So I have a servant." + +"You have everything this flat contains and five thousand pounds at the +end of three weeks." + +"Oh, what a lark," said Richard gaily. + +"I only hope it will prove so," said Mr. Torrington. + +"Was wondering where I'd sleep tonight." + +"I wonder where you will." + +"All right, gentlemen, you can leave it to me. I shan't let you down. +If you'll excuse me I'm going to have a bath. In the event of our not +meeting again you might post that cheque to care of Porters, +Confectioners, 106b, Earl's Court Road--my town address." He stopped +at the room door and grinned. "Please help yourselves to a drink or +anything you fancy. My entire resources are at your disposal. +Goodnight." + +The door closed and a moment later came the sound of water splashing +into the bath. + +"Well, what do you think?" Cranbourne demanded enthusiastically. + +"A nice boy," Mr. Torrington returned. "Straight. I'm wondering how +much he will have to go through in the next three weeks." + +"Yes, but from our point of view?" + +"Ah, from our point of view I think we might declare a dividend. If +you would lend me an arm, Lord Almont, we will speak a word of farewell +to Barraclough through the wine cellar door." + + + + +CHAPTER 8. + +INTRODUCING A LADY. + +It was Cranbourne, who at the door of the flat thought of a final +precaution, excused himself to his companions and asked leave to enter +the bathroom. Richard was standing on a cork mat, rubbing himself with +a Turkish towel and, after the fashion of all good men, singing lustily +in time with the exercise. He favoured Cranbourne with a grin as he +materialized through the wreaths of steam. + +"Hello, back again!" + +Cranbourne nodded and cast an appreciative eye over the well +articulated muscles of the stripped figure before him. + +"Just one thing," he said, "if you don't mind." + +"Fire away." + +Cranbourne produced a notebook and a pencil. + +"Scribble your signature on this bit of paper." + +"I see. My writing. Here you are." + +Richard took the pencil and book and sitting on the edge of the +bath--and without thinking--dashed off his own signature. When he had +finished he handed it to Cranbourne who shook his head sadly over the +result. + +"No good?" + +"'Fraid not. It was hardly to be expected. Whatever you do, don't +write." + +"I won't." + +Cranbourne glanced at the page again. + +"This is your real name, I suppose." + +Richard started, hesitated a bit, then nodded. + +"There was a Frencham Altar mixed up in that Patagonian business." + +"My father. Went broke and shot himself, you know." + +"I remember. Left you on the rocks, so to speak." + +"Yes, and wedged there good and hard. You see he aimed at my being a +gentleman and nothing else--never was taught how to earn a living. +That's why I'm cutting rather a deplorable figure now." + +"I can't agree," said Cranbourne generously. "I think your father +realised his ambition. Goodnight." + +"Night-oh!" + +At the door Cranbourne paused. + +"I'm almost ashamed of having dragged you into this business," said he. + +"Don't you fret, my dear fellar. I'm delighted. I've been spending +that five thousand in imagination ever since I heard of it. Think I'll +emigrate in the fine style." + +"Hm!" he paused. "Altar! I shouldn't really tell you this, but you're +likely to be kidnapped tonight." + +"What?" + +"I thought you might like to know." + +"Thanks very much." + +"That's all." + +"Hang on a minute. Do you want me to defend myself? I'm pretty useful +with my hands or a gun either for that matter." + +"It would help us if you did nothing at all--except comply." + +Richard's face fell for he loved a good mix up. + +"Oh, very well, if you say so." + +"Thank you," said Cranbourne. "The best of luck, old chap." + +"You bet." + +Cranbourne went out and a moment later the front door slammed. + +Then Richard began to laugh. + +"Kidnapped, eh! What a game. Doran!" The last word rang out +imperatively. + +"Sir," came the reply. + +"Have I got any clothes?" + +"In the bedroom, sir." + +"Righto." He put his feet into a pair of slippers, donned a bath gown +and shuffled into the adjoining room. At the door he paused to survey +the appointments. + +"I think this is a nice bedroom of mine, don't you?" + +Doran signified assent with a smile. + +"Very nice flat altogether. What sort of taste have I in the matter of +clothes?" + +"Pretty good, sir. I've laid out a blue cheviot." + +"Aha! And an M.C.C. tie. Shan't wear that." + +"No, sir." + +"I'm not a member." + +"But in the circumstances, sir." + +"P'raps you're right. A sound taste in shirtings, I see." + +"Rather a strong feature with us, sir." + +Richard whistled cheerfully as he dressed himself. The clothes fitted +him astonishingly well--even the collars were right to a quarter size. +In the intervals between whistling solos he put questions on a hundred +matters. + +"Am I a fairly decent sort of chap, Doran?" + +The question received a frowning affirmative. + +"Splendid! You stick up for me." + +The rattle of enquiry proceeded. How much did he drink? How long had +he had the flat? What were his clubs--games--favourite restaurants? +What was his telephone number? Did he smoke to excess--go out much? +Was he fond of reading? Had he got a profession? + +"Ah! and this is important. What about money?" + +"There's seven pound ten in that note case, sir." + +Richard verified the statement. + +"Suppose I want more?" + +"There's about two hundred in the second drawer of the bureau, sir." + +"That's the sort of bureau for me. And I can get some food here?" + +"I shall look after that, sir." + +"First rate. Everything seems snug and in order. Let's take a look +round the flat." + +They inspected every corner, with the exception of the wine cellar, +paused for a moment in the hall to try on hats and finished up in the +dining room where Doran presented him with a bunch of keys, explaining +their various uses. + +Richard dropped into a saddle bag chair and smiled expansively upon a +friendly world. + +"A very pleasant finish to the day," he remarked luxuriously. "If +you'd mix me one small drink and put the cigarettes in reach, I'll +bother you no more tonight." + +Doran was moving toward the decanter when a low knock sounded at the +front door. He stopped, raised his head, listened, and stood quite +still. The knock was repeated. + +"Better find out who it is," Richard suggested. + +"Yes, sir," said Doran, but made no move. + +"What's the matter? You look worried." + +Doran admitted that he was worried--very worried. + +"But good heavens, why? Tough looking chap--ought to be able to look +after yourself." + +"I can, sir, but I was forbidden to do so. And I was wondering if it's +to be a bar of lead or a sponge of chloroform." + +"Oh, rats," Richard laughed, "you go and find out." + +"Very well, sir." + +Doran took a grip on himself and marched out. + +"And now," said Richard to himself, "I suppose the fun is going to +begin." + +He lit a cigarette and waited. It was quite a long time before the +door opened and a woman came quickly into the room. And she was +lovely. She had a mass of black hair swept clear of the brow. Her +eyes were black, large and luminous. She was unnaturally white but her +lips were scarlet. It was a beautiful mouth, shapely, sensuous, +sensitive, but with a hint of strength. Her brows very straight and as +thin almost as pencil lines. She wore a flame-coloured evening +dress--'_Tout feu_' as a ladies' journal would describe it--and a cloak +of smoke colour which fell from one shoulder and double draped the +other. There was nothing ordinary in the appearance of Auriole Craven. +She attacked the eye and held it captive. A woman would have declared +her to be overdressed--_outre_--almost _demi mondaine_--would have +denounced the white face and the red curled lips--would have criticised +the uncanny knack of falling instantaneously into attitudes of flowing +lines. But to a man the subject of these criticisms was matter for +appreciation. By her very daring she stirred a spirit of adventure. +Richard checked a gasp of admiration--of surprise--rose to his feet and +bowed, but other than by settling her eyes upon him the girl gave no +sign of recognition. Clearly it was up to someone to make a move, +wherefore Richard politely offered her "good evening." + +"Is that all you have to say?" came the answer. + +"Of course not," he laughed, "but I make a point of saying that first. +Do sit down, won't you?" + +She occupied the offered chair and looked up at him. + +"At least I thought you'd be surprised," she said. "Still it doesn't +matter." + +"P'raps I am," he admitted reluctantly, "but my surprise was drowned in +a very natural pleasure." + +"Pleasure?" + +"It was awfully nice of you to look in like this. Been to a theatre or +something?" + +"No." + +"No?" + +"I came to talk." + +"Fine! We--we've every facility." + +"Yes." Her head was slightly raised and she seemed to be listening. +"Yes." + +"I didn't hear anything, did you?" said Richard gaily. + +"No. Nothing." But again she raised her head. + +"I say, are you sure you're all right?" he asked. + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"'Cause if I can get you anything----" + +"You can hardly expect me to be normal," she retorted with a flash of +bitterness. + +It was difficult to know what to say, so he nodded understandingly. An +inspiration suggested the offer of a cigarette, but she shook her head. + +"I prefer my own," she said, and drew a gold case from her bag. "Try +one." + +He took the case and she nodded toward it. + +"I still carry your gifts." + +Richard turned it over and read the inscription "Auriole Craven from +A.B." It was a stroke of luck to get her name without asking. He +smiled and handed it back with the words, + +"Ungallant of me to expose your identity and conceal my own behind +initials." + +Auriole laughed shortly. + +"Perhaps A. B. guessed that a day might come when his name engraved on +a present to another woman would be a mistake." + +"Give him a chance," said Richard. "He hasn't all that subtlety." + +"Men change their views very readily, Tony." + +"Only men?" he countered. + +She jerked the reply at him over her uncovered shoulder. + +"My being here, you mean? My having joined the other side?" + +This was a grateful piece of intelligence but Richard preserved a stern +expression. + +"Since you suggest it yourself----" he admitted. + +"Do you hate me for doing it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"Not at all. I'm sure your reasons were adequate." + +"They were. Still I thought you'd be surprised." + +It was clearly evident that some sort of emotion would have to be +expressed. Richard passed a hand across his forehead and walked to the +fireplace. + +"My dear Auriole," he said, "did I ever strike you as a man who +betrayed my real feelings?" + +"I always knew them," she returned. + +"Then you must know how hurt I am--how very hurt--to think that +you--well, I mean, it's dreadful--most--er--most dreadful." + +"Were you expecting loyalty from me?" + +"There are degrees," he replied with a reproachful glance. + +"Wonderful," said Auriole. "It's wonderful really." Her voice dropped +and she looked him squarely in the eyes. "Tony, you're not really in +love with that girl, you know." + +He was concealing bewilderment behind the action of mixing a drink, but +the statement so startled him that he sent a column of soda water +straight into his shoe. + +"Look here," he declared, vigorously mopping his sock with a +handkerchief. "If you're going to say things like that I simply----" + +"You can't love her." + +A tinge of scarlet showed upon her white cheeks. Evidently the girl +was in earnest. It was useless to flirt with the situation. + +"I am not going to attempt to prove it," said Richard very gallantly. + +"In fact it's an offence for me to mention her name." + +"You haven't--yet," he observed tentatively. + +And as she took this to be a challenge, she leaned back in her chair +and said "Isabel Irish" with very little charity of inflexion. + +"Please!" said Richard--but what he really meant was "Thank you." +Inside himself he was thinking "Damn that fellow Doran! Why the blazes +didn't he tell me about all these girls." + +The sound of Auriole's voice brought him back to the necessity of the +moment. + +"So _sans gene_," she was saying, "so innocent--so unworldly. I wonder +what her views would be if she learnt you had entertained a lady in +your flat at midnight." + +"As the lady came uninvited," Richard returned, "I am hardly likely to +refer to the matter." + +"Suppose I referred to it--advertised the fact. Do you imagine she +would marry you then?" + +Richard smiled. + +"I should say she'd be as likely to marry me then as she is now." + +"A girl brought up as she has been?" + +"Aha!" + +"You're very confident. Tony, there are people watching this flat +to-night." + +"Dear, dear!" + +"People who will talk tomorrow morning." + +"What, the chatty-at-breakfast-kind. How dreadful." + +"If you wish to stop them, there is only one way." + +"Yes--tell me. Always believed they were incurable." + +Auriole shut her hands tight and spoke with difficulty. + +"Tony, I don't know how real your affections are for this girl, but I +know this. If you refuse to answer our questions your chance of +marrying her is worth--nothing. Understand? Nothing." + +And all at once Richard became serious. + +"Will that please you?" he asked. + +"Perhaps." + +"I don't think so. I don't think it will please you, really." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You're too good a sort to enjoy spreading rotten fables about people +who are in love with one another." + +She echoed the words "too good a sort" rather faintly. + +"Yes. I suppose you--you're jealous or something--angry because my +feelings have changed. I understand that--it's natural, and I don't +defend myself, you know. It's natural you should want to hurt me, but +aren't you choosing rather a rotten way of doing it, 'cos you're +hurting an innocent girl into the bargain. It's way down below your +form to side up with these men who are against me--isn't it, now? As a +friend, I'd drop out of this deal--clean out--it--it's not up to your +standard." + +"Why do you say this to me?" + +"Because I like you too well to associate you with----" + +"You like me?" + +"Yes." + +"Still?" + +"Not still," he answered, truthfully, "but now." + +She was silent for a long while, then she shook her head. + +"No good, Tony. It wouldn't make any difference if I dropped out. I +know it's beastly, but that can't be helped. They mean to have their +answer, whatever happens." + +"They've come to the wrong house to get it," said Richard and he folded +his arms very heroically. + +"You refuse to speak?" + +"I do." + +"Mr. Van Diest would pay you--enormously." + +"Course he would." + +"Twenty per cent after exploitation and a million down." + +It was a staggering proposition, but Richard preserved his calm and +remarked humorously: + +"I'll take it in copper, please." + +Auriole sprang to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders. Her +face was lovelier at close range. A faint and delightful perfume came +to his nostrils, her eyes burned brightly and the scarlet mouth, with +its moist trembling lower lip, was an exquisite invitation. This +indeed was a very woman, he thought, a striking contrast to the small +and wistful Doreen. With sudden intuition he realised he had but to +open his arms and she would enter--willingly, anxiously. An insane +desire possessed him to do this thing. She was adorable, desirable, +magnificent, and he was certain beyond doubt she loved him. With a +catch of the breath he raised his hands and in so doing his glance fell +upon the sleeve of the coat he wore. The cloth was of blue Cheviot +which reminded him abruptly that he was Richard Frencham Altar +masquerading in someone else's clothes, a circumstance which in no way +admitted him to the use of short cuts to the affections of their real +owner's admirers. It is disappointing to have to acknowledge that +someone is violently in love with someone else that you happen to +resemble and the reflection sobered him quickly. With an awkward laugh +he turned away and repeated: + +"Yes, tell him I'll take it in copper." + +"Tony!" she said, "Tony, don't fool with it! Don't you, realise how +frightfully serious it is? Haven't you any imagination?" + +Apparently he did realise--apparently he had some imagination, for he +replied: + +"I imagine it is much too late for us to be talking here together. I'm +going to ring the bell." + +"No," she cried. + +"My man will get you a cab." + +"If you ring you'll be sorry." + +"Life is full of regrets," he answered, and pressed the button. + +He saw the startled gesture she made to prevent him and simultaneously +the hall and the bedroom doors were thrown open and three gentlemen, +each levelling a revolver at his head, advanced into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER 9. + +AN INVITATION TO STAY. + +To a person of less even temperament than Richard the unexpected +appearance of these three gentlemen marching in the wake of nickel +plated shooting irons might well have aroused feelings of alarm and +indignation. But for a matter of some four years Richard had been shot +over pretty thoroughly and the lessons of calm learnt in the hard +school of war did not desert him in the present situation. He felt, +moreover, a curious certainty that the chance of bullets flying around +was pretty remote. The primary necessity was to keep his head and +avoid any word or action that might betray the fact that he was not the +man they believed him to be. The name Van Diest, which had occurred in +his conversation with the girl, came quickly to his brain and he +glanced from one to another in the hope of determining whether its +bearer was present. + +His eyes were held by a short rotund person of advanced middle age who +occupied the centre of the room. In outline this person was distinctly +Dutch. His face was heavily pleated, with dewlaps pendant from the +jaw. He wore side whiskers that did not make a good pair and dark +bushy brows almost concealed his small, twinkly eyes. He possessed +very little hair, but what there was had been pasted in thin separated +strands across the shiny bald pate. A low collar of enormous +circumference encircled his short neck and his tie was drawn through a +Zodiac ring. His clothes were ill-fitting--shapeless trousers and a +voluminous morning coat, in the buttonhole of which was a pink +carnation with a silver papered stem, an immense watch-chain spread +across a coarsely knitted waistcoat of Berlin wool. And he seemed out +of breath. The pistol in his extended hand vibrated in sympathy with +an accelerated pulse rate. + +Richard's left hand wandered carelessly to his hip. + +"Look here, Mr. Van Diest," he said, "were you never taught that it's +rude to point?" + +A twang like the snapping of a 'cello string brought his head round +sharply. + +"Hands away from your side pocket." + +It was less of an invitation than an order. + +The speaker was a big, broad-shouldered American of the thruster +school, heavy jaw, black hair and hurry. He held his gun dead rigid +against his thigh and there was that in his eyes which foretold that +where he looked he could hit. This was Ezra P. Hipps. + +"Set down and don't move--this thing goes off," he said. + +Richard considered the proposal and the speaker and judged both to be +sound. + +"Thanks," he said, "I'd like a stall for this entertainment," and +dropped into a chair. + +The man who was standing behind Van Diest came forward and smiled +gracefully. He was sleek and too well dressed and gave the appearance +of being out of his natural element and ashamed of the one in which he +found himself. + +"You remember me, Barraclough, old fellow," he said, swinging his +pistol as though it were a cane. + +"I'm a terror for forgetting trifles," Richard replied sweetly. +"Remind me." + +"Oliver Laurence. Met you in '11 at old Dick Harris' place." + +"Good old Dick," said Richard in the spirit of the scene. "But as I +was about to remark, here we all are, gentlemen, and what happens next?" + +Hugo Van Diest flickered his eyes at Auriole and asked in a soft +guttural voice: + +"You prevail--yes?" + +Auriole shook her head. + +"Mr. Barraclough refuses," she said. + +Van Diest drew in his breath between shut teeth and Oliver Laurence +sighed sadly. + +"Refuse." + +"'Fraid so," nodded Richard. + +"You know vot is it dot we ask?" + +"Perfectly, but if you'd care to repeat it----" + +Ezra P. Hipps rapped his free hand on a chair back. + +"Don't get fresh," he snapped, "we're after business." + +"Sorry," said Richard. "Thought it was a kind of Wild West act." + +Evidently Van Diest wanted to avoid a row. He approached the subject +in his most agreeable tone which sounded like a puma purring. + +"Twendy per cent and a million pounds for der map. A man like you he +can't spend a million pounds in a lifetime." + +"Don't be too sure," said Richard unwisely. "I might have inherited +the knack." + +"Let's hear a price." + +Richard turned to the American with a grin. + +"Honestly," he replied, "anything you got from me would be dear at a +shilling." + +The friendly quality died out of Van Diest's voice. + +"We was very sincere, Mr. Barraclough." + +"Oh, that's fine," said Richard. + +Oliver Laurence laid a soothing hand on his shoulder and the touch of +the man was beastly. It inspired an instant and substantial dislike. +Richard rounded on him with his first show of temper and brushed away +the hand. + +"Look here, Daisy," he said. "Better not touch the exhibits unless you +want to be hurt." + +And at this point Ezra P. Hipps showed himself a man of action. + +"Guess what you won't give we'll have to take. Keys?" + +"Take 'em by all means," said Richard, fishing the bunch from his +pocket. "Tell me if you find anything." + +"It will save a lot of troubles to you if we find something," murmured +Van Diest. + +There was a distinct menace in the words but Richard was too interested +in the activities of Ezra P. Hipps to pay heed to that. With +lightning-like rapidity the American had unlocked every drawer in the +bureau, withdrawn them from their runners and laid them in a precise +row on the floor. + +"Guessed it," he ejaculated. "Simple. One of 'em is shorter than the +rest." + +He dived a hand into the cavity lately filled by the short drawer and +produced a small steel despatch box. + +"The goods!" + +Richard leaned forward with a sudden impulse to prevent the box being +opened but the caressing muzzle of Van Diest's revolver coaxed him back +to the chair. + +"Very simple," said Van Diest. "Maps inside. Open it." + +Hipps wasted little time trying to find a key that would fit. He put +the box on the floor and kicked it scientifically. From the wreckage +he rescued a neat roll of parchment with a tape round its waist. Once +again he remarked "The goods!" whisked off the tape and spread out the +parchment. + +"Writing." + +"Read it." + +And he read. + +"That would be altogether too easy, gentlemen. Perhaps there isn't a +map after all." + +Richard settled himself comfortably with a sigh of satisfaction and the +three men turned to look at him. + +"Don't blame me," he said sweetly, "I never said there was a map, did +I?" + +Out of the corner of his eye he saw Auriole with a flush of what might +easily have been taken for pleasure on her cheeks. It was very +perplexing. + +"Hm!" Van Diest nodded. "Hm! A wise man keep this sort of +informations in his head." + +"'Course he does." + +"Yes, yes. Mr. Barraclough, a great deal you oblige by coming with us +to an apartment we have prepared for your receptions." + +"It's nice of you but I'm very comfortable here." + +"I'm afraid we must insist." + +"Since you're so pressing." + +"And as a gentleman you make no troubles--no noise." + +"There's no such thing as a noisy gentleman." + +Ezra P. Hipps rapped the butt of his automatic on the table top. + +"You can keep the cross-talking for the automobile," he said. "We're +through here--step out." + +As they moved toward the door Laurence slipped a hand through Richard's +arm. + +"My dear old fellow," he said, "if you only knew how distasteful all +this is to me." + +Richard drew his arm away sharply. + +"So's that to me," he said, brushing his sleeve with the deliberate +will to offend. Then he turned and bowed to Auriole. "Your friends +are amusing but I'm afraid they are going to waste a lot of time. Are +you coming our way?" + + + + +CHAPTER 10. + +NERVES. + +The clocks were striking seven when Anthony Barraclough descended the +stairs of the flats and hailed a taxi. The street was deserted save +for a policeman and an old hag who was sorting over the contents of a +dustbin outside the adjoining house. She shot a quick glance at +Barraclough and broke into a cackle of thin laughter. + +"Didn't take you long to come up in the world," she piped. "Always +thought you were a bit of a fraud." + +Barraclough gasped. The disappointment was so cruel. + +"You are making a mistake," he said and opened the taxi door. + +"You've had a shave, that's all, but, bless you, that don't deceive me." + +"Look here----" he began. + +"You don't want to be recognised, my dear. I can easily forget, you +know, if I'm encouraged." She stretched out a filthy clawlike hand. + +There was something queer in her manner--a difference from the rank and +file of Van Diest's regiment. + +Clearly, too, her poverty was genuine. With a little tact her +allegiance might be diverted. He pulled a note case from his pocket +and detached a fiver. + +"Take that," he said, "and if you want more----" + +He rattled off Lord Almont's address in Park Lane. + +"Save my soul!" gasped the old woman. "Are you crazy? Didn't expect +more'n a florin. Bless your pretty heart. You must be badly +frightened of something." + +But Barraclough waited for no more. He jumped into the taxi with the +words 'Westminster Bridge' and drove away, swearing to himself. + +"Of all rotten luck. Yet I can't help feeling she didn't belong to +that gang after all. Wonder if I've made an almighty fool of myself." + +For the first time in his life his nerves were beginning to fray. His +fingers drummed a tattoo on the leather seat of the cab and, despite +the chill of early morning, his brow was hot and clammy. + +"Likely enough it was just a begging stunt." + +He put his head out of the window and said 'Waterloo Station.' A +sudden memory persuaded him to glance above his head and reassure +himself no other passenger was concealed upon the roof. The action in +itself was fresh evidence of nerves. + +"Must pull myself together," he said. "Those infernal hours in the +wine cupboard have shaken me up." + +To a man of action nothing is so wearing as inactivity. It had been +intolerable sitting in the darkness while the new proxy had borne the +enemy's assault unaided. He had heard the rumble of talk which had +followed the first stifled cry from Doran when the sponge of chloroform +was thrust into his face, and every now and again he had heard Frencham +Altar's voice ring out high and mocking and exasperatingly like his +own. Finally the front door had slammed but he remained concealed for +over an hour in case of misadventure. Doran was lying in the hall when +he stepped from his hiding place. Barraclough knew a little of the +rough science of medicine and very heartily cursed the man who had +doped his servant. A little more of the anaesthetic would have put a +period to Doran's career. There was an hour's hard work with ammonia +and respiratory exercises before the good fellow blinked an eyelid and +made the wry faces of recovery. After that Barraclough stewed himself +a cup of coffee, broke a couple of eggs into it and made ready for +departure. Altogether it had been a trying night as his nerves were +beginning to testify. + +It was encouraging to find no suspicious watcher at booking office or +barrier. He passed through unobserved and entered an empty first-class +compartment in the 7.30 to Southampton. There were ten minutes to wait +before they were due to start--minutes which dragged interminably. But +at last the green flag dropped, the couplings tightened and the train +began to move. + +"Thank God for that," he exclaimed and relaxed against the cushions of +the seat. + +But his relief was short lived. A large man, running at full speed, +came abreast the carriage window which was lowered, a suitcase came +flying through and landed on the opposite seat, while the man himself +leapt to the running board, threw open the door and sprang into the +carriage. + +"Jing! but that was a near squeak," he exclaimed. "Another half minute +and you'd have beaten me." + +Barraclough's muscles tightened and his mouth went hard and straight. +So the bluff had failed after all. He was spotted. That idiot from +the benches had given them away. + +The man opposite did not appear to have lost his breath through the +race and was looking at Barraclough with an expression of good-natured +humour in a pair of twinkly blue eyes. He was of very powerful +physique, broad-shouldered and bull necked. Also he had the appearance +of being uncommonly fit. In any other circumstance Barraclough would +have taken him for a pleasant, likeable fellow, who might have helped +to pass the tedium of a long journey. But his actual feelings were far +removed from any such consideration. The smug affability of the man +coupled with his obvious strength aroused such indignation in +Barraclough that he was scarcely able to remain seated. The difference +in their weight and stature precluded all chances of a successful +frontal attack. It would be sheer waste of energy to seize this +intruder and try to chuck him on the line. But, on the other hand, +something drastic would have to be done. At such a stage of the game +it was intolerable to contemplate defeat. He thought of his words to +Mr. Torrington the evening before and of the assurance he had given to +Isabel. Then there was the immense prize that success would award him. +Was everything to be lost because of one piece of infernal bad luck. +If he could reach Southampton unobserved he was confident that the +arrangements he had prepared would baffle observation. Besides the +presumption was that the watchers had been called off and this infernal +smiling idiot on the seat opposite had failed to receive new +instructions and was acting upon the old. + +In Barraclough's right hip pocket was an automatic pistol but between +its butt and his hand was a thick buttoned upholster. Any attempt to +reach the weapon would surely result in an immediate counter offensive, +with himself at a disadvantage. No, he must think of something subtler +than that. + +On the seat beside him lay a packet of Gold Flake cigarettes, bought +from a trolley on the platform. It gave him an idea. He put one in +his mouth and began to slap his pockets as though searching for +matches. He might have saved himself the pains for the man opposite +produced a lighter and offered it with a friendly word. + +"Always keep one handy." + +Barraclough, silently swearing, thanked him and lit up. + +Clearly his companion was a person of some geniality. He spread out +his legs, cleared his throat, and observed: + +"All's well as ends well. Still, I didn't expect to catch you." + +Barraclough assumed an air of indifference. + +"Did you not?" he said. + +"It's a fact, I didn't. Lying in bed I was twelve minutes ago. Used +some words, too, when they called me up on the 'phone. But, all said, +it was worth the rush. Means a good deal of money to me." + +This final remark did little to improve Barraclough's temper. However, +he preserved an outward calm and said he supposed so. + +"I'm tenacious," said the man. "That's what I am--tenacious." + +"A fine quality." + +"And pretty useful in my trade." + +"Must be." + +Barraclough's mind was concentrated on finding a weak spot at which to +attack and already a delicate idea was maturing. In the rack above his +companion's head was his suitcase, the handle projecting outward. +Apparently it was unusually heavy for Barraclough had noticed with what +a resonant whack it hit the carriage cushions when thrown in through +the window and also that it was only lifted to its present position +with an effort. If that suitcase could be persuaded to fall on its +owner's head it was reasonable to suppose the result would be +anesthetic. And in Barraclough's hand was a crooked stick. The +association of idea is obvious. + +"Going far?" came the pleasant enquiry. + +In common with all South Western Railway carriages, the wooden +partitioning above the upholstery was decorated with choicely coloured +views of cities and country-side. + +"Since there would appear to be no point in hiding anything from you," +Barraclough replied, "there is a picture of my destination behind your +head." + +"That's funny," said the man and, responding to natural curiosity, +turned to examine the picture, while Barraclough embraced the +opportunity to slip the crook of his stick through the handle of the +bag and tug hard. But the bag was heavier than he had imagined. It +scarcely moved and only by bracing his foot on the seat opposite was he +able to upset its balance. Just a fraction of a second too soon the +man turned. Conceivably he saw murder in Barraclough's eyes or else he +was unusually quick at grasping a situation. He flashed his eyes +upward at the moment the bag was toppling, realised it was too late to +save himself, and dropped his head forward. He caught the weight of +the bag on his massive shoulders and, as though it were a pillow, +slewed sideways and heaved it straight on to Barraclough's chest. + +And Barraclough's lungs emptied like a burst balloon. Next instant he +felt himself lifted into mid air as though he were a child. + +"I've a damn good mind to pitch you through the window," said the man. +"I would, too, if I didn't reckon you were mad. As it is, I guess I'll +stick you up in the luggage rack out of harm's way." + +And this he did without apparent effort. + +"Damn me!" he went on. "What's the game?" + +"The game," replied Barraclough, "isn't played out yet." + +Which was true, for in the tussle his overcoat had rolled up under his +arms, the pistol pocket was clear, and a blue black automatic flashed +dully in the man's face. + +"If either of us leaves this carriage I fancy it's going to be you." + +To do the man justice he betrayed more amazement than alarm. He backed +away a pace and his hand travelled upward to the communicator. + +"If you touch that cable I'll put a bullet through your wrist," said +Barraclough. "Sit down and attend to me." + +He obeyed, shaking his head perplexedly. + +"Damn me, if I can get the strength of it." + +"Then listen," said Barraclough, steadying his aim along the ash rail +of the luggage rack, "and keep your hands in your lap. I'm going to +carry my scheme through even if I have to shoot you and lots like you. +My patience has run out--understand? I've been fooled and badgered and +headed off and shot at for as long as I can stand. The boot's on the +other leg now and whoever tries to stop me or follow me or get in my +way will find all the trouble he's looking for." + +"Yes, but it seems to me," said the big man plaintively, "that it's you +who's looking for trouble. Been a nice thing if that bag had caught me +on the lid. There were two fifty pound bells inside and a coil of wire +for my trapeze act." + +"Your what?" said Barraclough. + +"Trapeze act. Done in my tour nicely, that would." + +Barraclough's eyes narrowed and he looked at the man closely. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. "What's your name?" + +"My real name's John Lever," he replied, "but I'm better known to the +music hall public as Madrooba, the Muscular Muscovite." + +"Madrooba--the chap who lets eight men stand on his chest?" + +"That's me." + +"Then what in blazes were you following me for?" + +"Following you?" repeated Mr. Madrooba. "Never set eyes on you before. +Run after the train 'cause I got a contract to appear in Paris tonight." + +Barraclough lowered the point of his pistol slowly. + +"And you've never heard of Van Diest?" + +"Never! Van Biene I know and Van Hoven, but----" + +"Then it looks to me," said Barraclough regretfully. "It looks to me +as if I've made a pretty substantial fool of myself. If you're big +enough to accept an apology, Mr. Madrooba, I'd be glad to come off this +perch and offer it." + +"I reckon if I can stand eight men on my chest," came the reply, "I +don't need to take a lot of notice of this little misunderstanding. +Let yourself drop and I'll catch you." + +And from sheer relief Barraclough began to laugh--and laughed solidly +for ten miles of the journey. + + + + +CHAPTER 11. + +OUTLINING A PROGRAMME. + +Richard Frencham Altar was exceedingly affable in the car. It was a +big, comfortable, Rolls saloon, and he sat between Van Diest and the +American. Laurence occupied the seat next to the driver. + +He had tried to say a few words to Auriole before taking his place in +the car but she had merely shrugged her shoulders and entered a waiting +taxi. The two vehicles drove in opposite directions, from which it +would appear that her task in the affair was accomplished. + +"I hope I shall see some more of that young lady," he remarked. Van +Diest nodded gloomily and Hipps jerked out: + +"Probably will." + +After that they drove in silence. + +"Forgive me for criticising your methods," said Richard at last, "but +shouldn't I be blindfolded or something? I'm familiar with all these +roads and could walk back without even asking the way." + +"There might be difficulties." + +"Oh, quite. It was only a suggestion. I want to keep up the spirit of +the thing. If I have to be Shanghaied I'd like it to be done properly." + +"You wass very high spirited, Mr. Barraclough." + +"Why not? Comfortable car--pleasant company." + +"Yees. With us this was a very serious business." + +"That's all to the good, but let's keep in humour. By the way, since +everything's open and above board, where are you taking me?" + +"Laurence's house." + +"Wanted to know 'cos of getting my letters forwarded." + +"There won't be a whole lot of communication with the outer world," +said Hipps. + +"I see. And how long are you proposing to keep me there?" + +"My dear old fellow," Laurence spoke over his shoulder, "that depends +entirely on yourself." + +There was deeper significance in the tone than in the words. + +"That's cordial," said Richard, "downright hostly." + +"But paste this in your hat," said Hipps ominously. "Conditions won't +improve by outstaying your welcome. It'll be sweet if you make it +short--if not----" + +He did not complete the sentence. + +"A declining stock," Richard smiled then shook his head reproachfully. +"You know, gentlemen, yours is an extremely heterodox way of doing +business. You must be feeling pretty hopeless to have resorted to +measures of this kind." + +"I guess the market'll improve," said Hipps and relapsed into silence. + +It seemed ages before the car slowed down and entered the gates of a +solid mid-Victorian house, isolated from similar houses by two or three +acres of treeful grounds. The front door was opened by two +men-servants of none too prepossessing appearance, who came down the +steps as the car pulled up. It was significant of precaution that they +tacitly formed up one on each side of Richard and escorted him within. + +"The only thing lacking," he remarked, "is a red carpet and an awning." + +But his disposition toward gaiety was unshared by his companions. The +two servants conducted him mutely into the dining room where a meal was +awaiting them. Van Diest beckoned him to a place at the table and, +tucking a napkin under his left ear, seated himself and began to attack +the victuals without comment. Ezra P. Hipps turned the key in the lock +and dropped it in his pocket before occupying the chair facing Richard. +As the ostensible host Laurence sat at the head of the table and +instructed the servants to open the wine. The change of courses was +effected by means of a small service lift inset in one of the walls. + +Not the smallest effort was made at conversation--dishes came and went, +glasses were filled and emptied in absolute silence. There was +something ominous in this freedom from talk and the quiet broken only +by the tinkle of table implements and the rather noisy character of Van +Diest's feeding. Richard was struck by the old man's prodigious +capacity for devouring food. He ate with a calculated energy as though +the safety of nations depended upon his sustenance. Apart from the +ordinary fare, he demolished about eighteen inches of a long French +loaf at his side, tearing pieces from it with his short stubby fingers +and filling his mouth with great wads of crust and dough. Richard +afterwards learnt that this voracity of appetite was nerve begotten. +In moments of acute agitation it was Van Diest's custom to eat +enormously on the theory that a full belly begets a placid mind. His +little piglike eyes darted to and fro among the cates before him +assuring themselves that he was missing nothing. + +In direct antithesis to this wolfish feeding were the manners of Oliver +Laurence. He toyed with his victuals, cutting them into the littlest +pieces and almost flirting with his glass of wine. + +Ezra P. Hipps ate and drank, as he did everything else in +life--thoroughly and with conviction. The meal finished he pushed back +his chair, unlocked the door, tilted his head to indicate to the +servants that they could get out, locked the door again and crossed to +the mantelpiece. + +"Cigar," he said. + +Laurence provided one and offered a light. Hipps shook his head and +sticking the cigar in his mouth he proceeded to eat it with a curious +rotary motion. + +"Now!" he said and it sounded like a blow upon a gong. + +"Curtain up," said Richard and steeled himself for any eventuality. + +"You're caught, Mr. Barraclough." + +"But not caught out," came the instant reply. + +"Ever handled a cheque for a million pounds?" + +"I have not." + +"Van!" + +Mr. Van Diest felt in his pockets and produced a banker's draft which +he laid on the table before Richard. It was payable to the order of +Anthony Barraclough. + +Richard flicked it aside. + +"Old ground," he said. "No good to me, gentlemen." + +"Let's talk." + +"Fire away." + +"I needn't repeat what you have to do to earn that trifle, Anthony, but +here's a point worth considering. Doubtless you got the idea the price +we're willing to pay'll rise. You're wrong--it'll fall. If you speak +tonight that draft's yours and an interest beside, but every day you +keep us waiting'll cost you fifty thousand pounds." + +"Thank God I can afford it," said Richard. + +"Roughly speaking it'll pan out over a period of three weeks, at the +end of which time you get just nothing, savez?" + +"I savez that you and I will be in the same position at the end as we +are at the beginning." + +Ezra P. Hipps shook his head gravely but his metallic blue eyes never +shifted their gaze for an instant. + +"Tony boy," he said. "The price isn't solely financial. There's a +little physical programme in the skyline. Get me?" + +"Sounds like a threat." + +"And is," came the rejoinder. + +"Interesting." + +The American took three steps forward and leant across the table. + +"For example," he said, "you smoke too much and smoking'll be +curtailed." + +With a quick movement he plucked the cigarette from Richard's mouth and +threw it into the grate. + +A dull red surged over Richard's face as he sprang to his feet. + +"I warn you----" he began, then checked himself at the sudden memory of +Cranbourne's words. He was not allowed to put up a fight. + +"Well, what?" + +"Oh, nothing. I've neither the mood nor the patience to teach you +manners." + +His hand went out to take another cigarette from a silver box at his +side. + +"No smoking," repeated Hipps in a level voice. + +"Don't be asinine, my good fool." + +His extended hand trembled, yearning to knot itself into a fist. The +silver box was just beyond the American's reach but seizing a small +glass jug he threw the contents over Richard's hand, drenching the +cigarette he had picked up and half filling the box with water. The +quickness and effrontery of the action, its insolent disregard of all +the laws of courtesy acted on Richard's temper as a spark on gun cotton. + +"I'm damned if I'll stand for that," he shouted and kicking his chair +out of the way made a dash round the table toward Hipps. It was +Laurence who shot out the leg that tripped him and before he could +scramble to his feet both the American and the Englishman were sitting +on his back. + +"Steady, steady, old chap," Laurence beseeched him. "It's an almighty +pity to start this way." + +Hipps' long fingers had closed scientifically on the back of Richard's +neck and were paralysing the movements of his head. His nose was +pressed good and hard into the pile of the carpet. It was all very +painful. + +"Are you going to quit fighting, Anthony?" + +After all there was no particular value in adding to one's discomfort. +They were three to one and in a locked room with reinforcements +outside. Moreover, had there been a chance of requitals or escape he +was under orders to accept neither. But in his existing state of +indignation Richard could not induce himself to acknowledge defeat. +The fighting strain in his nature could only be satisfied by getting in +at least one substantial return for the indignity put upon him. + +He was lying near to the grate, his head having narrowly missed the +fender rail in the fall. His right hand, which was free, lay across +Dutch tiling within easy reach of the open fire from which was +projecting conveniently a blazing log. The end nearest him was as yet +untouched by the flames and, without considering consequences, Richard +dragged it out of the fire and viciously thrust it upward. More by +luck than judgment the burning brand scorched across the side of Hipps' +face. + +"Hell!" came the cry and instantaneously the weight on his back was +gone and he was free to rise. + +Oliver Laurence, to avoid danger, had thrown himself backwards and was +now under the table, looking very like a child playing hide and seek. +The American had backed against the buffet but his general dignity +suffered a reverse from the fact that his first thought was of remedy +rather than revenge. He had picked up a piece of butter and was +rubbing it vigorously on his burnt cheek. In the shadows Mr. Van Diest +was shaking his head in sorrowful disapproval of the whole proceedings. +For the life of him Richard could not help laughing. + +"I'm extremely sorry, gentlemen," he said, "but you did ask for +trouble." He raised the corner of the table cloth and addressed +Laurence. "If you've quite done amusing yourself under there you might +come out and give me a cigarette." + +Laurence, looking painfully ridiculous, emerged and handed his case to +Richard who took one and lit it slowly from the glowing brand which he +still retained. + +"I think we had better come to an immediate understanding," he said. +"I am perfectly prepared to treat you all with civility as long as I +receive the same treatment from you, but please understand that I will +not tolerate any funny business." An idea flashed suddenly into his +brain. "Just one thing more--there was some talk earlier this evening +of trying to poison the mind of my--my fiancée in regard to a question +of my morals. That was a particularly offensive idea and I want your +assurance that you'll drop it. Otherwise----" he took a few paces +toward the window, "I shall set fire to your curtains and keep you +gentlemen busy until the woodwork has caught. I imagine you aren't +wanting the fire brigade or the intrusion of any other respectable +force at the moment." + +"Seems to me, my son----" began Hipps. + +But Van Diest interrupted him. + +"Let us agree to this suggestion," he said. "For my part I wass very +sorry to make enemy of our goot guest. S'no troubles about that." + +"Thank you," said Richard. "Then if you've nothing further to ask me +I'd be glad to turn in." + +Hipps walked across the room and unlocked the door. The two servants +came in. + +"Show this gentleman to his apartment." + +"Goodnight, everyone," said Richard. + +He was passing out when Hipps laid a hand on his shoulder. + +"Say," he said, touching his cheek. "You fired me with some ambition +to see your flag at half mast. Admire your spirit and all that, but it +kind o' gets my goat being branded by a youngster. Ain't used to it. +We want that inf. o' yours and want it quick. My advice to you is, +don't monkey with our patience. It won't pay." + +"If you count this as a day," Richard replied with a grin, "it's cost +me fifty thousand already." + +For a moment Hipps made no reply and when at last he spoke his remark +appeared to have no bearing on the matter in hand. + +"In France during the war?" he asked. + +"I was." + +"Awkward stuff, that poison gas." + +"Very awkward." + +"Beastly smell." + +"Horrid." + +"Makes me cry to think of it." + +"But you're a born sentimentalist." + +"Ah. Goodnight. Shan't be meeting again for a few days. But Laurence +here'll bring any messages." + +"I shan't trouble him," said Richard. + +"No? Well, that's your concern." Once again he relapsed into silence, +then very suddenly flashed out the single word "Pineapple." + +Richard was accompanied up the stairs by the two silent servants. They +ushered him into a room on the top landing, bowed and retired. The +door closed with a metallic ring. He heard the sliding of a bolt, the +jingle of a chain and the sound of footsteps descending. And all of a +sudden he felt very lonely. + + + + +CHAPTER 12. + +PINEAPPLE. + +The room in which Richard found himself was of modest size and +unpretentious in decoration. Its walls were panelled in white and +below the fireless grate was a second door leading to a small bedroom. +There were no curtains to the windows which were closely shuttered, the +shutters themselves being made of steel plates rivetted together and +held in place by a series of dropping bars. Apparently some system of +burglar alarm had been installed, an exceptionally large electric bell +being fitted in the framing where, normally, the cornice poles would +have run. Glancing over his shoulder Richard observed the absence of a +handle to the door through which he had been admitted. A plain deal +table occupied the centre of the room, with a couple of hard upright +kitchen chairs, one on either side. There was no carpet nor any rug +upon the floor. A single unshaded electric light bulb hung from the +ceiling. + +"Hospitable sort of place," he remarked and passed through to the +bedroom, the door of which was on a spring and closed behind him. + +Beyond the presence of a bed of extremely uncomfortable appearance the +same severity confronted him. There was neither washstand nor dressing +table, chair nor picture. Nothing to read, nothing to look at. The +windows were shuttered and, as in the other room, a single light point +was the only illumination. High up above the bed was the mouthpiece of +what looked like a motor horn. This and an iron ventilating register +let into the wall a couple of feet away from the pillow were the only +objects that provided any variety in the way of decoration. + +The atmosphere of the place, though chilly, had a distinct sense of +oppression. There was no vitality in the air--it breathed mossy and +damp. + +"Do with an open window," said Richard and moved toward the shutters. +He had hardly covered half the distance when the lights went out with +startling suddenness. There was something distinctly eerie in the +absolute darkness in which he found himself. He stretched out a hand +and felt for the nearest wall like a blind man, groped his way to the +door and opened it. But the other room was also in pitchy blackness. + +"Fuse gone somewhere," he conjectured. "May as well try and get to a +chair and wait till the lights come on." + +Roughly memorising the position of the furniture he made for the centre +of the room with hands extended. The effort was a failure and brought +him to the opposing wall. Accordingly he turned and tried again on a +slightly altered course. He had hardly taken three steps when he +received a shock. His left hand touched something rough but soft. +There was a sense of warmth about it but no movement. Richard started +violently and caught his breath. + +"What's that?" he cried. + +But there was no answer. + +Standing very still he listened. The house was deathly silent and he +could almost hear the pulsing of his heart. Then very faintly he +became aware of another sound--the gentle hiss of a man breathing. + +"Now we know where we are," thought Richard bracing himself up. +"Sneaked in while I was looking at the bedroom, I suppose. Not going +to let those idiots frighten me with bogey tricks." + +As quietly as possible he went down on all fours and ran his fingers +across the floor boards in a semi-circle. They had not travelled very +far before encountering the hard edge of a boot sole. That was good +enough for Richard. Judging the distance nicely he seized its owner's +ankle in an iron grip and springing to his feet lifted it high into the +air and flung it backward. There was a squeal and a crash as the chair +went over and Richard broke into a laugh. + +"Look here, Laurence," he said. "I've had enough of your practical +jokes tonight. You'll get hurt one of these days if you go on being so +funny." + +And without warning the lights went up. + +Laurence was scrambling to his feet, rubbing the back of his head +ruefully, and there were two other men in the room. The first was a +stranger to Richard and the second, who stood by the door, was one of +the servants. The stranger was a shrewd-looking young man of +moderately prepossessing appearance. He nodded to Richard as to an old +acquaintance. + +"We meet again," he remarked affably, "though you don't appear to +recognise me." + +"Well you're not much to remember," replied Richard whose temper was a +little frayed. + +"My name is Smith. Had the honour of sharing your taxi to Hendon the +other day. You were good enough to ask me in for a drink." + +It was clearly the moment to be noncommittal. + +"If you've come to get it," said Richard, "you'll be unlucky." + +"Just thought I'd like to take a look at you, that's all." + +He rose to his feet, for he had been occupying the second chair and +scanned Richard's face closely. A shadow of perplexity showed in the +wrinkles of his forehead. + +"Sorry I'm not looking my best," said Richard, with an uneasy feeling +of having been detected. + +"Hm!" said the young man called Smith, "I'm not very often wrong about +things like that but I can't remember those humorous lines at the +corners of your eyes." + +"Ah!" said Richard, "but I hadn't seen the humour of the situation when +last we met." + +"Bad light, I suppose," the young man nodded. "Still, it's rather +surprising. Thanks, Mr. Laurence, I think that'll do. Goodnight, sir." + +"Oh, goodnight. Drop in whenever you feel like it." + +"I may." He moved toward the door then turned suddenly. "By the way, +I've a message for you." + +"Yes?" + +"Pineapple." He spoke the word incisively. + +Richard shook his head. + +"Haven't the smallest idea what you mean," he said, "but not to seem +lacking in appreciation, bananas or any other fruit you've a fancy for." + +The door opened and closed behind the three retreating forms and once +again the room was plunged into darkness. + +The business of getting into bed was embarrassed by the constant +reverses of light into darkness and back again. There appeared to be +no specified period for either--sometimes the light would burn ten +minutes--sometimes two and sometimes would merely flash up and down. A +more successful irritant could hardly have been devised. The shock of +the extreme contrast was in itself enough to infuriate an ordinary +individual. Richard would gladly have accepted total darkness in +preference to the blinding changes. This, however, was no part of his +tormentors' programme--it was clearly evident they intended to prey +upon his nerves as actively as possible. He reflected that no doubt +many other devices were in preparation to induce him to speak. There +was this talk of pineapple which appeared to carry with it some kind of +threat. + +"Pineapple. Why the deuce should pineapple loosen a man's tongue?" he +said aloud as he struggled into a pair of pyjamas that had been laid on +the bed. "Might make his mouth water perhaps but----" + +At this particular moment the lights came on and he was able to finish +undressing and nip between the sheets before the darkness fell again. + +He observed with satisfaction that there was nothing funny about the +bed. It was soft and "cushy" and there were ample coverings. It was +vastly more comfortable than the bench which had supported him during +the preceding nights and this in itself was something to be grateful +for. After all, even if these earnest financiers perpetrated a few +ill-humoured practical jokes upon him he was being absurdly overpaid to +endure them. + +Five thousand pounds for a fortnight's badgering. Who wouldn't put up +with a bit of discomfort for that. The wily Hun had handed him over +far more substantial terrors than these gentlemen were likely to +command and his pay for enduring them had worked out at approximately +three pound ten a week. He fell to considering in what manner he would +invest his earnings and a very attractive farming scheme in New Zealand +began to formulate prettily. Farming had always appealed to him and +there was a spot in the Canterbury district which had taken his fancy +when he had visited the South Island two years before. There were +green plains there and lettuce green woods and it was watered by a +network of fast running streams, great and little, where fat rainbow +trout sunned themselves in the shallows or leapt and jostled where the +water tumbled creaming over rock and boulder. By Gad! it would be +something like to build one's house in such surroundings--and maybe +later on to marry and---- + +It was the word marry that switched his thoughts up another channel and +in imagination found him once again standing beside the girl with the +splendid eyes who called at Barraclough's flat two hours before. + +"Wish she wasn't mixed up in this outfit," he said to himself. "A girl +like that! Perfectly ripping creature. By jing! put her alongside a +man after her own heart--some decent fellow with the pluck to stand up +against that wayward strain--and there might be a good deal of +happiness knocking around for the pair of them. I suppose that ass +Barraclough turned her down. Pretty hard to please. Wonder if he got +away all right. Ripping scent she used. Coty, I believe, something +Jacque Minot." + +As a man will who is trying to revive the impression of a scent he +sniffed the air gently with his eyes shut, only to open them with an +expression of surprise. Surely it was no imagination but the odour of +Rose Jacque Minot, taint and exquisite, seemed to hang in the air. +Thin waves of it growing and diminishing in intensity were wafted +across his head almost as though directed from a spray. + +"If that isn't the oddest thing," he gasped. "Now I wonder----" + +The light flashed up for a second--just long enough to reveal the fact +that the room was empty. + +"Damn funny," he said and sat up in bed puzzling. He remained thus for +several minutes but no solution to the mystery presented itself. +Moreover, the scent had gone from the air and nothing but the memory +remained. + +"Suppose I can't have been fool enough to imagine it. Never heard of a +man being haunted by a perfume." + +He lowered his head to the pillow feeling, for no explainable reason, +strangely disquieted, only to rise again almost instantly exclaiming: + +"'Tany rate, this is no imagination." + +For the reek of onions was in the air--gross and nauseous. You could +have cut it with a knife. + +Probably Richard's most violent antipathy was for the smell of onions. +He abhorred it as the devil abhors virtue. With an exclamation of +disgust he disappeared beneath the bedclothes and stuffed the sheet +into his mouth. He lay thus for a long while before venturing to +emerge and sample the air. To his relief he found the detestable taint +had vanished and the atmosphere had recovered its original slightly +tomby flavour. + +"That's a blessing any way," he said. "I suppose it's no use wondering +how it's done or why it's done. Better get to sleep and ask questions +in the morning." + +And quite unexpectedly he found he was afraid--filled with a kind of +nameless dread--a horrible prescience of some villainy about to happen. +There was a motive in this programme of changing scents, a deeper +significance than the mere will to annoy. He knew without even asking +himself how he knew that the smell of pineapple would be next. But why +he should fear pineapple was not at the moment apparent. He only knew +that when it came he would have to command every nerve to prevent +crying out. + +Sitting up in bed he sniffed the air tentatively. + +"Nothing! (sniff) No, nothing. (sniff) Wait a bit, wasn't that--? +No. (sniff) No--" + +And then it came--pungent, acrid, bitter sweet, gathering in intensity +second by second. + +With a stifled cry he clapped both hands over his mouth and swung a leg +to the floor. His eyes wide open in the dark began to sting violently. +He caught his breath and burst into a spasm of coughing. Somewhere +from the wall by the bedside came the faint sound of gas hissing from a +cylinder. + +"Phosgene!" shouted Richard Frencham Altar. "You dirty swine! +Phosgene!" + +It is a smell that once learnt can never be forgotten--a smell pregnant +with memories. As it invades the nostrils the doors of a dreadful past +fly open. The white mist hanging over the sunken road, the clangour of +beaten shell cases ringing out alarm, the whistle of the warning +rockets and the noise of men choking in the spongy fog. + +Richard struggled back to the farthest corner of the room. He had +picked up his shirt and thrust it over his mouth and nostrils but even +so his lungs were nearly bursting. "You rotten, rotten swine," he +repeated. "I'll make you pay for this." + +And a voice answered out of the dark: + +"If you find the atmosphere oppressive, Mr. Barraclough, why not go +into the next room. It's perfectly clear in there. But don't wait to +collect your blankets because we're going to intensify this little lot." + +There followed a louder hissing from the cylinder and Richard waited +for no more. Somehow he located the door, dashed through into the +adjoining room, and fell gasping on the uncovered boards. For several +minutes he made no effort to rise, then he sat up and shivered. The +air was like ice. A bitter freezing draught swept across him, cold as +winter spray. + +His inquisitors were following up an advantage. There was to be no +remission in the warfare. Dark, poison and cold. These were the +instruments of torture devised to make him speak. + +Richard struggled to his feet and stood with clenched hands. + +"All right, my lads," he said. "You go ahead but I'll see you damned +before I talk." + +He could hear the ice-cold wind whining through the registers as though +in derision of his boast. It cut him to the bone through his thin silk +pyjamas. + +For the rest of the night Richard Frencham Altar paced the floor, +stamping his feet and beating one hand against the other. + + + + +CHAPTER 13. + +HARRISON SMITH. + +When the young man named Smith left Laurence's house after his +interview with Richard he was slightly angry and not a little puzzled. +The cause of his perplexity was the humorous lines round Richard's eyes +and the cause of his anger was his failure to have noted them when +first they met in the taxi and travelled home together on the Golders +Green tube. + +He had remarked on the peculiarity of this circumstance when he found +Hipps and Van Diest in the dining room and had received no other +comment than a snub from the American for his lack of observation. + +These two gentlemen were in a state of exaggerated well being induced +by enthusiasm over the capture they had made. Hipps was laying odds +that after a course of treatment Anthony Barraclough would not only +give away the secret but would breathe his first sweetheart's pet name. +Van Diest was more concerned with details for the notation of the +future radium company. + +They appeared to regard the intrusion of Mr. Smith as a nuisance. + +"Seems to me, gentlemen," he said, "there's something queer about the +whole business. Barraclough was known to be starting tonight--and +instead you succeed in laying him by the heels." + +"What's wrong with that?" + +"Nothing--except that it was all so infernally easy. Then again the +fellow seems in such high spirits." + +Van Diest wrinkled his forehead and nodded at this but Hipps waved it +aside. + +"Take it from me, he's in darn sight lower spirits than he wants us to +think. Anthony's a sport and he'll sure pull the cucumber act as long +as the cool weather lasts." + +"You may be satisfied, gentlemen, but I'm not! You don't think he'd +have given the information to anyone else." + +Van Diest looked at the young man with a pitying smile. + +"If you wass possessed millions and millions of pounds, my friend, iss +it very likely you would trust anyone to look after it?" + +"Perhaps not----" + +"Very well then." + +"Still I'm sure there's something fishy. If I might be allowed to +investigate----" + +But Van Diest negatived this suggestion very heartily. He argued that +persons prying about at this stage of the game would bring suspicions +on themselves. + +"Mr. Torrington and all those peoples are very happy to believe that +Barraclough hass given us the slip. S'no goot to make them miserable." + +"Still if--without attracting attention----" + +"You run along and play," said Hipps. + +And so the interview ended. + +Smith was heartily offended to be brushed aside in this fashion. He +had served his employers faithfully and with sound intelligence. +Practically the entire control of the ring which had prevented +Barraclough's escape on the preceding days had been in his hands. +Earlier in the night he had received telephone instructions to call off +his watchers and having done so he had driven over to Laurence's house +to satisfy himself that all was in order. + +It was quite absurd he should be assailed by these feelings of doubt. +Barraclough had been caught and there the matter ended. But in his own +mind it refused to end. Why hadn't Barraclough put up a fight and how +had Barraclough grown funny lines round his eyes? These were mysteries +which for his own peace he was bound to elucidate. + +It was four o'clock when he got to bed but he was up again in good time +next morning, roughly sketching out a programme for the day. + +At nine fifteen precisely he was standing by the ticket barrier at +Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of the Woodford train. +Presently it steamed alongside the platform and one of the first +persons to get out was Nugent Cassis. He was swinging his cane and +_mirabile dictu_ he was whistling. In his buttonhole he wore a flower. + +From a distance Smith had studied Nugent Cassis on many previous +occasions and knew his peculiarities by heart--also he knew that there +was no single precedent for this rare display of jauntiness. + +Harrison Smith shook his head hopelessly. It was inconceivable with +all their immense resources that Torrington's crowd had set no watch on +Barraclough's movements over night. Surely they must be aware that his +intended flight had been frustrated. Why Barraclough's servant Doran +would surely have rung up and informed them. He was confident that +somewhere a breakdown had occurred. + +As he passed by Nugent Cassis said "good morning" to the ticket +collector--a thing he had never done before. + +Harrison Smith got into a taxi and drove to Shepherd Street, Mayfair. +He sent up his card by the parlour maid with the request that Miss +Craven would grant him an interview. He was asked to wait and was kept +waiting the best part of three quarters of an hour while Auriole +completed her toilet. When at last she entered she did not show the +least enthusiasm for his presence but asked rather shortly what he +wanted. + +"I'm tired," she added, "so be as quick as you can." + +"All right," he said. "It's only this. You were an old flame of +Barraclough's?" + +"Well?" + +"How long is it since last you met?" + +"Until last night--four years, I suppose." + +"Hm! Had he changed at all?" + +"Changed?" + +"In appearance--er--manner." + +She tapped her chin thoughtfully. + +"Bit more amusing perhaps--less of a prig." + +"Ah!" said Smith. "Go on--anything else?" + +"He seemed to have learnt how to smile." + +Harrison Smith leapt to his feet and paced up and down. + +"I knew I was right," he said, "but what the deuce does it mean? +Anything else to tell me?" + +"Yes. Sit down, for Heaven's sake. My head's aching and you irritate +me walking about." + +He obeyed and continued his interrogation. + +"In love with him once, weren't you?" + +"Once," she replied. + +"And you've no very good reason for wishing him well?" + +"I've a very particular reason for wishing him ill." + +"Hm! His engagement to Miss Irish?" + +"Perhaps." + +"How did you come to be mixed up in this affair?" + +"I happened to know Mr. Hipps and heard what was going on through him. +It was my idea--kidnapping Anthony. Doubt if they'd have had the nerve +to think of it for themselves." + +"D'you think they'll get him to talk?" + +"I don't think _they_ will get him to talk," she replied, "but----" + +"Yes?" + +"But I could. He's a tough proposition among men but a woman can worm +a secret out of him--at least----" She stopped and shook her head. + +"Yes?" + +"That used to be my impression." + +"Has it altered then?" + +"I'm not quite so certain as I used to be. He was different last +night----" + +Harrison Smith leant forward. + +"Tell me," he said, very earnestly, "did you notice anything queer +about his eyes?" + +"I don't know." + +"Try to remember." + +"Four years is a long while." + +"But to a woman like you." + +"I believe something struck me--they puckered at the corners a +bit--rather attractively." + +"That's it," said Harrison Smith. "That's exactly it. Lord, I wish I +could understand." + +"What's troubling you?" + +"Just a crazy idea--probably it's nonsense. By the way, I've had +orders from our employers to leave it alone so you'd do me a kindness +by saying nothing of this visit." + +"All right," she replied listlessly. "But I don't see----" + +"It's solid in my head that a muddle has been made--and between you and +me, I'm going to sift it out." + +"I shouldn't," said Auriole. "You won't be thanked for disobeying +orders." + +"Must take a chance of that," he answered. "Only learnt yesterday what +it was all about and the size of the deal has got me gasping." + +"Pretty tremendous, isn't it?" + +"Big enough to be worth taking some private trouble over. You don't +imagine Barraclough would have deputed anyone else to get the +concession?" + +She shook her head. + +"Neither do I. But if it isn't that why does his crowd sit still and +grin?" + +"I suppose they don't know of his capture." + +"Maybe. 'Tany rate, it's what our folk believe. I have my own views." + +"Tell me." + +"They're a trifle too fantastic for publication yet awhile." He rose +and buttoned his gloves. "There's to be a meeting at Lord Almont's +flat this morning. I'm going to hang about and study character." + +"Better not be seen." + +"Trust me. I'll take cover in the motor show rooms on the street level +and watch 'em as they come out." + +"Hm! Goodbye." And she held out her hand. + +"Au 'voir. You look a bit down this morning." + +"Don't feel up to much." + +He scanned her face quizzically. + +"Those tender feelings haven't revived, have they?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"For friend Barraclough?" + +"Idiot," she retorted. "As if I had any feelings." + +"He's a decent looking chap." + +"Oh, go away," she said. + +And he went--smiling. + +Auriole waited until the front door closed, then picked up the +telephone receiver and gave a number. + +"I want to speak to Lord Almont Frayne. Oh, is it? Good morning. +Yes, that's right. A. B. was kidnapped last night at twelve thirty. +They've taken him to Laurence's house in Totteridge. What? Yes, +perfectly satisfied. One of their agents, a man named Harrison Smith, +has been here a minute ago. He seems to be suspicious about something. +Thinks you all seem too contented. He'll be hanging about outside your +flat this morning. Yes, that's all. Oh, Lord Almont, wish you'd +explain the situation to me--can't understand it at all. Wouldn't make +any difference. No, but what was to be gained by letting Anthony +Barraclough be kidnapped? If you won't say it doesn't matter but it +seems stupid not to trust one's own side. Oh, Mr. Cassis. I doubt if +he'd trust himself. 'Bye!" + +She hung up the receiver with a little gesture of annoyance and crossed +to the writing table. From a small drawer above the pigeon holes she +took a photograph of a man in flannels. It was signed "Yours for +keeps, Tony." She read the inscription and smiled--and it was not a +very kindly smile. + + * * * * * * + +Harrison Smith, as a prospective buyer, proved extremely tiresome to +the staff of the Motor Show Rooms in Park Lane. He shilly-shallied +from one car to another asking rather stupid questions for the best +part of two hours. The exquisitely dressed salesman poured forth his +eulogies in vain. Nothing could make Mr. Smith decide. He would +listen attentively to long recitals of the respective virtues of this +make and that and then would gaze out into the street as though lost in +contemplation. In the midst of listening to a highly technical +discourse on the subject of cantilever springs, without a word of +warning he leapt into the interior of a big Siddeley Saloon and closed +the door behind him. The salesman looked at Mr. Smith in amazement but +Mr. Smith was looking into the street along which three very +serious-looking men were slowly progressing. Two of them supported the +third who was very old and very bent. His face was set in an +expression of acute anguish. They helped him into a waiting +automobile, shook their heads at each other and proceeded in different +directions. The automobile started up and moved away. The old man's +head was sunk upon his chest. + +When all three were out of view Harrison Smith emerged from the +Siddeley Saloon, glanced at his watch, thanked the salesman, said he +would call again and passed out of the showrooms. On the pavement he +halted and, like the three gentlemen who had occupied his attention, he +too shook his head. + +"They seem pretty well in the depths now," he reflected. "Wonder if +I'm making a fool of myself." + +He would have wondered even more acutely had he seen Mr. Torrington +straighten up and smile as the big ear turned into the Park through +Stanhope Gate. Every trace of anguish had gone from the old man's +face. To speak the truth he looked extremely well pleased with himself. + +Harrison Smith walked slowly down Piccadilly debating in his mind +whether or no he should abandon his investigations. + +He stopped at the bottom of Clarges Street to allow a taxi, laden with +luggage, to pass. The taxi had its cover down and inside he had a +glimpse of a girl with a happy, smiling face. The girl was Isabel +Irish and the brief glimpse decided him. + +"One more cast," he said and jumped into an empty cab that was coming +down the slope. + +"Follow that chap in front," he cried. "The one with box on top. +Don't lose sight of him whatever happens." + +He slammed the door and settled down on the cushions. Pursuer and +pursued threaded their way through the traffic to Waterloo Station. + + + + +CHAPTER 14. + +"OFF THE BEATEN TRACK." + +Anthony Barraclough's mother was seventy-eight and still a sport. She +loved her garden, she loved her son and she loved adventure. She was +very fond of life, of punctuality, of the church, and of good manners. +She was deeply attached to the memory of her late husband and her late +sovereign, Queen Victoria, upon whom, with certain reservations, she +patterned herself. The reservations were a taste for stormy literature +and a habit of wearing her ice-white hair bobbed. The bobbing of her +hair, and it used to be waist long, was a tribute to patriotism. She +sacrificed her "ends" in 1914 to give a lead to hesitating girls of the +neighbourhood. This she conceived to be a duty and one that would +materially expedite the close of hostilities. + +Mrs. Barraclough lived in the sweetly named village of Clyst St. Mary +where you will find Devon at its gentlest. She was waited upon by four +strapping girls who bore the names Flora, Agnes, Jane and Cynthia. +These young women arrived in a body during the spring of 1919 and took +possession of the house. Flora who was spokesman of the party bore a +note from Anthony in which he wrote-- + + +"Mother Darling, + +Am sending these girls to look after you. No more servant worries. +They are tophole. Flora and Jane saved my life when I was in France. + +Love, + TONY." + + +That was all. + +Being a dutiful mother, Mrs. Barraclough asked no questions;--instead +she arranged accommodation and bought some new dimity chintzes for the +top floor bedrooms. + +As Anthony declared, the girls were certainly tophole and made their +mistress so unreasonably comfortable that she greatly feared the risk +of being spoilt. It is true they perplexed her not a little, since no +single one of them bestrewed the house with fallen aspirates, sang +while sweeping nor spoke ill of her fellow. Herein perhaps they +provided some small ground for disappointment for, in company with many +ladies of the older school, Mrs. Barraclough dearly loved bestowing an +occasional rebuke in words calculated to improve and uplift. This, +however, was a trivial concern weighed against the obvious advantages +of loyalty, good nature and efficiency. + +The house in which Mrs. Barraclough dwelt was called "Chestnuts" and it +lay a few miles off the London Exeter main road. To reach it by rail +you alighted at Digby Halt and were met by either a car or a governess +cart. Mrs. Barraclough possessed both and invariably despatched the +governess cart to meet her favourite guests, on the theory that a horse +is more of a compliment than a "snuffly engine." As a matter of fact +the car was a very sterling, if rather old, Panhard Levassor and in no +sense could be accused of snuffling. + +When once an enquiring visitor, after vainly searching the garden for +chestnut trees, asked why the house was so named, Mrs. Barraclough +replied-- + +"The chestnuts apply to myself and not to the vegetation. I am an old +woman with an incurable habit of repeating the same anecdotes over and +over again." + +To this sanctuary of mid-Victorian calm Isabel Irish came in the late +afternoon of the day following Anthony's departure into the unknown. +To wait in London for three weeks without word or message was more than +she could tolerate. Accordingly she sent a wire to Mrs. Barraclough +and followed close upon its heels. Of the presence of Mr. Harrison +Smith in the next compartment of the corridor carriage, she, of course, +knew nothing, and this circumstance provided that enthusiastic +investigator with every opportunity of studying her without attracting +attention to himself. + +On the pretext of smoking a pipe he lounged up and down the corridor, +every now and then glancing at Isabel, who sat alone with compressed +lips and chin sunk on her chest. He concluded from her attitude and +expression that she must have heard of Barraclough's capture but later +on another impression superseded the first, for every now and then a +light of excitement and enthusiasm would leap into her eyes as though +in imagination she were following her lover along the ways of desperate +adventure. Harrison Smith shook his head. + +"Don't know what to make of it," he muttered. "Certain sure they've +got the man yet--I don't know----" + +Once he saw her do a very odd thing but foolishly enough paid little +heed to it. A sudden blank look came into the girl's face--the kind of +look people wear who have suddenly forgotten an important matter or +discovered a loss. Her lips moved rapidly and her brow creased under +an intensity of thought. She turned and breathed on the window glass +and with quick movements of her forefinger wrote upon it half a dozen +figures and characters. But before he had properly noted what they +were the moisture evaporated and the glass was clear again. It did not +occur to Harrison Smith to worry over his failure to read what she had +written, since he regarded the action as symptomatic of mere +nervousness, but he noted with surprise that after this little episode +the girl seemed to relax and her face assumed lines almost of +contentment. After all, no one could blame him for failing to realise +the true significance of that hurried, transient scrawl. One does not +expect to find the map reference of probably the greatest source of +wealth the world has ever known scribbled across the window pane of a +South Western Railway carriage by the fat little forefinger of a girl +scarcely out of her teens. Such an eventuality never even crossed the +mind of Harrison Smith. Nevertheless the girl puzzled him more than he +cared to confess. + +To reach Digby Halt necessitated a change. Harrison Smith took good +care to make his descent from the train as far as possible from +Isabel's carriage. He watched her enter the governess cart and drive +away before attempting to leave the station. Prior to this it struck +him that he might have difficulty in obtaining lodgings in the +neighbourhood without bag or baggage and this being probable he had +resorted to the unpleasant expedient of stealing a suit case. Its +owner, a clergyman, was at the time enjoying a cup of tea in the dining +section--the risk therefore was small. The suit case bore no initials +and might have belonged to anybody. Harrison Smith showed as little as +possible of his face as he passed through the wicket gate. He turned +in the opposite direction to the one taken by the governess cart, +waited till he was out of sight and climbed through a gap in the hedge. +Ten minutes later, dressed as a clergyman and looking very good indeed, +he marched down the road in the direction of the village. + + + + +CHAPTER 15. + +TEA AND TEARS. + +It was Flora who drove the round, short legged pony, who drew the dog +cart, and because Flora had driven a high power car in France during +the war and had earned a reputation as a merchant of speed she looked, +as she was given to look on these occasions, a shade sorry for herself. + +Also, because she had an admiration for Anthony that was little removed +from adoration she did not attend greatly to the business in hand, but +instead engaged in a critical survey of the girl he was to marry. She +decided that Isabel was very pretty but a shade too serious. She +wondered if her nerves were any good. She wished she had been allowed +to fetch her in the motor as there were one or two sharp corners on the +way home which, taken fast, provided a good test of a passenger's +courage. Perhaps it was as well that permission had been denied, she +reflected, since had Isabel screamed or turned even the least bit pink +she, Flora, would certainly have hit her with a spanner. + +In extenuation for these violent emotions please remember that Flora, +in company with Jane, had been instrumental in saving Anthony +Barraclough's life when they found him lying on the roadside bleeding +like a stuck pig during the great retreat of 1918. After all, a girl +is justified in feeling strongly about a man's choice of a wife when he +owes his life to her. She is more or less responsible. + +Isabel said nothing for perhaps a quarter of a mile, then suddenly +exclaimed: + +"I say, this is beastly slow." + +She could not have made a happier remark. Flora relaxed instantly. + +"Isn't it chronic," she returned, "but the old lady was firm about it. +If I'd had the car we'd have whooped it up a bit." + +"Wish we had. Can't stick this jogging--want to get out and run." + +"Fond of speed?" said Flora. + +"Um, rather. That beastly old train--then this. I'd half a notion to +fly down only I didn't know any landings round here." + +"You've flown then?" + +"Yes, lots." + +"Who with?" + +"By myself a fair amount." + +"Got a pilot certificate?" + +"Yes, ages ago." + +"I say!" said Flora and began to feel quite hopeful about Anthony's +future. "Agnes was in the Flying Corps, you know." + +"Agnes?" + +"She's housemaid. 'Course she's been up dozens of times but she never +handled the joystick. Ever looped?" + +"Often." + +"You must talk to Agnes," said Flora. + +There was a bell under the pony's chin strap and it jingled +continually. From her chair by the open French window Mrs. Barraclough +could hear the jingle as the cart turned into the lane. Herein lay the +essence of using the cart for particular friends, for Mrs. Barraclough +knew that as soon as she heard that sound there would be just time to +walk down the garden path and be at the gate to welcome the arrival. +With the car one could never get there soon enough and to her way of +thinking the hospitality of a house should be offered at the entrance +to its grounds. She liked to stand under the arboured gate with +extended hands and from there to speak the first welcoming words and +then to link arms and lead the visitor indoors with promises of tea or +fires in bedrooms and little kindly appreciations of the fatigue of +travelling. She would as soon have omitted any of these gentle rites +as have neglected to satisfy herself that the sheets were properly +aired or the carpets swept beneath the beds. + +Of course, with Isabel the welcome extended beyond the mere taking of +hands. There is a proper way of embracing your son's affianced wife; +that is, of course, if you happen to be of the same period as Mrs. +Barraclough. A kiss on the forehead, one on each cheek, an examination +at arm's length, and finally, after a perfect duck of a shared smile +and a murmured "my dear," the gentlest kiss imaginable on the extreme +point of the chin. It is at once a tribute and an acceptance--the +cashier's neat initial that honours your signature to a cheque drawn on +the account of happiness. + +Alas, that some of our modern mothers have lost the knack of this +pretty exchange. Their greeting is of a harsher tone. They bridge the +separating gulf between youth and age with talk of Auction. They speak +to the girl of "making a four" after dinner when the only real concern +is that she should make a two that is spiritually one. And because +this is so the modern mother will remain more often "in-law" than in +heart, which is a very great pity indeed. + +They had never met before but Isabel knew at the first touch of those +sweet prim lips that Anthony's mother was also hers--was also a +darling--was also a trump--was also every kind of good thing that she +ought to be. + +"Oh, I'm so glad I came," she gasped. "It won't be half so bad with +you to help me wait." + +And Mrs. Barraclough, who hadn't the smallest idea what she was talking +about, nodded and replied: + +"Of course not, my dear, of course not." + +Inside the drawing room tea was waiting on a silver tray, with a silver +kettle throwing out a hiss of silver steam. Never had Isabel seen any +silver that was as bright as this. It shone with the innocent lustre +of wedding presents and even the little methylated spirit flame that +boiled the water looked as if it had been polished with a chamois +leather. + +There was a walnut tea caddy studded with brass that had to be +unlocked, and inside were two compartments with tin-foil linings in +which the precious leaves guarded their aroma and defied larceny. Mrs. +Barraclough took two spoonfuls from one side and one from the other +that the correct blend might be achieved and these she mixed upon a +tiny square of white cartridge paper. Then the cups were warmed and +the water was put in--and some muffins and Jane, who had apple cheeks +and smiling red lips, came in the room and the business of pouring out +began, which is almost as great and almost as lost a secret as the +varnish of the violin makers of Cremona. And Isabel felt good all over +because she knew that Mrs. Barraclough, and the room, and Jane, and the +muffins, and the tea, and the evening were all the right +temperature--warm--mellow--comforting. Outside the window was a thrush +who sang. He was a soloist, and when he stayed to fill his throat a +chorus of sparrows, close packed upon the upper branches of a tilting +cedar, chirped gladly with a single voice. + +And listening and tasting and feeling all the sweetness of the +countryside, the fairness of tradition, the delicacy of age and custom, +a lump came into Isabel's throat--hot, angry and convulsive. For +somewhere out beyond was her man--facing unknown dangers, taking +terrible risks, followed by relentless men. + +Yet all this was his and he had left it. She was his and he had left +her--deserting both at the bidding of that frightful master who +commands us all--that ruler of men's destinies whose initials are +L.S.D. [Transcriber's note: abbreviations for Pounds, shillings, +pence.] + +She put her tea cup on the tray with a little tinkle and suddenly +covered her eyes with the palms of her hands. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" she cried. "Why couldn't he have been satisfied?" + +"What is it, my dear?" + +"Money," she answered with a staggering breath. "Money. And it +couldn't buy a moment that was as sweet as this." + +The fair curly head tilted forward into the black silk lap. Mrs. +Barraclough's hands went round the girl's shoulders and held them +tight. They were shaking so. + +A clergyman passing down the road halted for a moment and peered over +the yew hedge into the open windows of the room. But nobody took any +notice of him and he couldn't hear the words that were spoken. Had he +heard he would not have understood for they were only the kind noises +with which one woman will comfort another. + +Mrs. Barraclough could almost feel the hot tears soak through the +fabric of her gown. + + + + +CHAPTER 16. + +A HYPHEN. + +When first the question of radium arose in this chronicle it will be +remembered that Barraclough, under considerable pressure, yielded the +secret of the map reference to his fiancée, and by this very act made a +present of it, through the pages of narrative, to whosoever might +chance to read. + +It would seem a perfectly reasonable supposition that there must be +many avaricious persons to whom the possession of untold riches would +prove more attractive than a mere interest in the doings of another +man. Let it be said at once that although Barraclough certainly +confided the correct map reference to Isabel, that reference, for the +purposes of caution and public safety, underwent several important +variations before passing into my hands. The reason of this precaution +will be readily appreciated by the thoughtful however great may be the +disappointment it provides to the adventurous. A memory of average +length will recall the high percentage of disaster, of wrecked hopes +and of ruin pursuant upon the gold rush to Klondyke at the close of the +last century. Barely one man in a hundred made a living--barely one in +a thousand saw the yellow specks in his shovel that shone so bright +among the brown. Those who had set forth, buoyed up with boundless +belief, dragged back to where they had started from broken in purse and +spirit, barren of hope and faith. + +What then would be the result if the illimitable source of wealth upon +which by chance and a whisper Barraclough had stumbled should be +revealed to the world? A panic--a mad headlong exodus of men and women +too. Unequipped and unqualified they would pour from city and +country-side, leaving desk and furrow, in a wild race to be first upon +the scene--to stake a claim--any claim--to dig--to grovel--to tear up +the kindly earth with fingers like the claws of beasts. Wealth, upon +which our civilisation has been built, is the surest destroyer of +civilisation. What it has given it takes away. Dangle a promise of +gold before the young man at the ribbon counter and behold he is become +a savage. Whisper it never so gently--and it will sound as the roar of +torrents in our ears. + +Brewster's Series 19. Map 24. Square F. North 27. West 33. Look it +up for yourself. It exists all right but there is no radium there, not +any within a thousand miles for aught I know to the contrary. In that +location and over a large stretch of surrounding country-side the +earth's outer crust is mainly argillaceous with here and there an +outcrop of sandstone. There is not the smallest indication of +pitch-blende anywhere in the neighbourhood, and radium, as even those +little versed in chemistry or geology are aware, is only to be found in +that particular ore. + +It would be well, therefore, to think twice before embarking upon a +fruitless treasure hunt after reading what has here been set down. It +was the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would result from +incautious confidence that sealed Barraclough's lips and made his +movements on arriving at Southampton so secretive. It is known there +was a fog over the Solent on the afternoon in question and that a small +brown-sailed boat with a man sitting in the stern put out from the +shore and was presently swallowed up in the white tasselled wreaths of +mist. That same boat was discovered minus its passenger in the early +hours of the following day. A coastal collier, racketing into port in +the quiet of evening, brought the tale of a seaplane that narrowly +missed crashing into her deck house. Long after it was out of sight +the crew heard its engines droning overhead. Then for a while there +was silence during which a curious pinkish glow appeared to the +starboard and died away. This glow was repeated three times and at the +third repetition the waterplane engine was again audible, increasing in +volume every moment. Presently it cut out and nothing was heard for +several minutes. When it started again it must have been quite near at +hand for the sound of water cut by the floats was detectable. The +engines howled and whined until the roar diminished to a sound no +greater than the buzzing of a bee fading into nothing over the wake of +the little steamer. + +Whether or no these recorded circumstances have any bearing on the +mystery of Anthony Barraclough's disappearance it would be impossible +to say but the Harbour Authorities who were questioned as to whether +they had knowledge of the movements of this particular waterplane +replied with a regretful negative. They neither knew where it came +from nor whither it went and there is a strong rumour that one or two +quite important persons got into severe trouble for their want of +information. + +The one thing that is positively known is that Barraclough arrived in +and disappeared from Southampton in a single day, but whether he went +North, South, East or West is a matter for speculation. + + + + +PART II. + + +CHAPTER 17. + +A DOUBTFUL ALLY. + +"That guy," said Ezra P. Hipps, "that guy is some stayer." + +Hugo Van Diest, from the deeps of a big arm chair, omitted a kind of +rumbling affirmative. He was smoking a porcelain pipe enamelled with +roses and forget-me-nots. His fat, short fingered hands were spread +across the waistcoat of Berlin wool, his chin was sunk and his bearing +that of a man who is out of humour. + +Gracefully disposed upon the hearthrug stood Oliver Laurence, an +excellent advertisement for his tailor. + +Ezra P. Hipps, hugging one knee, sat upon the centre table and he was +looking at Auriole Craven with much the same expression as might be +seen on the face of a slave buyer in an African market. He had passed +her shoes, appreciated her stockings, nodded approval at her gown and +millinery and was now observing with satisfaction that the gloves which +she was peeling off revealed two arms of perfect proportion. + +"That guy," he proceeded, "has got to be made to talk. Looks like. +He's made fools of us too long. Looks like," he threw a glance at +Laurence, "your durn psychology isn't worth a hill o' beans." + +"We haven't given it a chance yet," said Laurence in defence of his +method. + +"Seventeen days," grunted Van Diest. "And no progress--nothing. This +was not an ordinary man." + +"Am I to see him today?" asked Auriole. + +Hipps shook his head and the girl brightened perceptibly. + +"Seems to please you." + +"No, it doesn't. I'll go up if you want me to--only----" + +"Get on with it." + +"I can't help thinking it's a mistake. Can't help thinking that +somehow that minute I spend with him every day strengthens rather than +breaks him down." + +"Guess you're right--it would me," Hipps agreed. There was a shade of +gallantry in the tone. + +"I take leave to doubt that," said Laurence. "I'm positively sure that +if a man is feeling the pinch all day long and everybody he comes in +contact with is definitely against him, a momentary glimpse of someone +who is seemingly sympathetic is far more likely to weaken his resolve +than strengthen it. It makes him relax and even though you relax only +a trifle it's the very deuce to get a grip on yourself again. You can +see it when chaps are training--that extra cigarette--the whiskey and +soda that isn't allowed plays the devil with their constitution. I +know when I was at----" He stopped for Auriole's large eyes were +looking at him critically. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"Nothing," she replied. "Nothing." Then to everyone's amazement burst +out: "What a mean rotter you are, though." + +"Here----" he began. + +"I honestly believe you enjoy all this beastliness." + +"Enjoy? My dear girl, do be sensible. Damn it, no one enjoys having +to put on the screw. It's a case of necessity." + +"Yes, yes, I suppose it is," she acquiesced hurriedly in an effort to +regain her composure. "Only it seemed to me--but never mind." + +Ezra P. Hipps crossed the room and put a hand on her arm. + +"Come on, dear. What's the trouble?" + +"I wouldn't mind," she returned, "if he weren't so--so desperately +plucky." + +"Hm!" said Van Diest. "I think it was a goot idea that you don't go to +see this young man any more." + +"That's nonsense," she replied hotly. "I'll see him. Besides he's +used to my coming and if I didn't turn up he----" + +"Disappointed," suggested Hipps. + +"Exactly," said Laurence. "Perhaps it 'ud be a good idea to vary the +programme for a day or two. Use the siren a bit more freely at night +and cut down his water supply. If he isn't ready to talk in another +forty-eight hours I'll be surprised." + +"Had a word with him yet?" demanded Hipps. + +"Not this morning." + +"Then you and Van try a few sweet speeches." + +The Dutchman rose heavily from his chair and nodded. + +"It was a bad business all this," he said. "You come with us--no?" + +"I'll be right along in just a minute." + +He tilted his head a fraction toward Auriole and laid a finger on his +lips. + +Van Diest and Laurence went out. He waited until he heard their +footsteps mounting the stairs before he spoke again. Auriole was +looking through the window at the trees margining the little estate. +She presented a charming silhouette against the light. + +"Say, you look very womanly in that fawn outfit," said Hipps. "Where +did you get it built?" + +She turned with a smile that was a shade cynical. + +"I'm glad you like it, Mr. Hipps." + +"I do--fine." + +"I'll wear it again." + +"You've passed down the wardrobe hooks pretty prodigal these last few +days. What is it--a dress parade?" + +"One changes," she replied. + +"That's sure what I'm frightened of." + +"If you'd rather I appeared in a blouse and skirt----"; but he +interrupted the sentence with an uplifted hand. + +"I've a fancy we'll cut cross talking," he said, "and come to grips." + +"About what?" + +"This young fellow Barraclough has cut ice with you?" + +"I thought you knew my feelings about him." + +"To borrow from your vocabulary--'one changes,'" he replied. + +"I haven't changed." + +"Glad to hear it." + +"I admire his pluck." + +"It's a dangerous quality--admiration. Sure the old 'pash' hasn't +looked up a bit?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Still it 'curred to me you were shaken some at the treatment we're +serving out to him." + +"That's not surprising. I merely wanted to get my own back, +not--not----" She left the sentence unfinished. + +Ezra P. Hipps took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket and chewed it +reflectively, his eyes never leaving the girl's face. + +"Women are queer ships," he said, "and never too even on the keel. +You've an important hand to play and kind of to keep your mind from +revoking here's a proposition to think over." + +"Revoking?" + +"That's the word. You're in this deal on a jealousy outfit and we're +not after any renunciation, splendid sacrifice and that gear. We want +you dead hard and seemed to me to get that I might do well to tie you +up a bit closer to the cause." + +"What do you suggest?" + +"You're an ambitious woman." + +"I suppose so." + +"I suggest this child." And he tapped his chest with the chewed butt +of the cigar. + +"I don't see----" + +"This child thrown in as a sweetener." + +For a moment she flushed, then the colour died away and was replaced by +a smile distinctly crooked at the corners. + +"Are you making a proposal of marriage?" she asked. + +"I sure am." + +"Oh!" + +He stretched his legs and rattled the coins in his pockets. + +"I've a hell of a lot of money and damn! I've never asked a woman this +question up to yet." + +"Have you not?" + +"Mention that fact 'cos I know they fall for molasses." + +"You're very wise about women, Mr. Hipps." + +But the irony was wasted. + +"I read a bit of heart stuff in the trains sometimes," he said. + +Auriole began to draw on her gloves. + +"Isn't this rather a queer place to settle one's future?" she said. + +"Donno--is it? Struck me it 'ud keep you from side-stepping having me +on the horizon." + +"I see. And do you always mix love making with business?" + +"Sure. Marriage is a business and bank books talk sweeter than the +long haired boys." + +She flashed a glance up at him and there was a definite appeal in her +eyes. + +"Are you in love with me?" + +The question seemed slightly to take him off balance. + +"Damn! I think you're fine," he said. + +"That is--splendid," she replied and turned her head. + +"Feeling good about it?" + +"Who wouldn't be?" + +"Thought you took it quiet." + +"I'm sorry." + +"Maybe you had some hopes along this street?" + +"I guessed there was something doing," she answered in an echo of his +tone. + +"It's all fixed then." + +"I suppose so." + +"Say I don't want you to think I'm only doing this out of expediency." + +"You're not?" + +"Not altogether." + +"Better and better," said Auriole. + +"I must scrape half an hour for lunch one of these days and we'll talk +over settlements." + +"That will be--jolly." + +"I'll get right upstairs now." + +"Goodbye." + +He made no effort to take her hand or to kiss her and she offered no +encouragement. At the room door he turned. + +"Paris for the honeymoon?" he asked. + +"Wherever you like." + +He looked at her critically and she met his eyes without flinching. + +"And you feel kind of strong--soft spots eradicated?" + +"Naturally." + +"I'm a hell of a tonic," said Ezra P. Hipps and closed the door behind +him. + +Auriole stood where he had left her. Presently she raised her hands +and they were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white as ivory. + +"How utterly, utterly awful," she said to herself. "How unspeakable." + +She picked up her bag and the other odds and ends a woman will carry +and passed out of the house with flaming cheeks. + +The chauffeur of the little two seater car that stood by the gates +asked where he should drive. + +"I don't care," she replied. "Anywhere you like. Get on a hill--some +place where I can breathe." + +The little Wolseley Ten wound through the green lanes and presently +mounted a pine fringed slope. Away to the west hung the smoke of +London with the pleasant countryside in between. + +Auriole touched the chauffeur on the arm and he stopped. Alighting +from the car she scrambled over uneven ground and presently threw +herself down under the shade of a tree. Somewhere overhead a lark was +singing and the air vibrated to the drone of summer insects. The day +was blue, peaceful, sweet. A thin breeze rustled the foliage, and +golden sun spots dappled the brown carpet of pine needles upon which +she lay. A single cloud travelled in the sky and its shadow fell +across the house and grounds in which Richard Frencham Altar was +imprisoned. Auriole clenched her hands tightly and bit her lip. +Somewhere behind those shuttered windows on the second floor the +inquisition was going forward. Three men to one. The relentless +interrogation. The same question repeated in a hundred ways and the +same unshakable refusal to give an answer. It was fitting indeed that +nature should cast a shadow over such doings. + +"And I'm part of it," said Auriole. + +Her thoughts flew back to her first meeting with Barraclough during the +war. She was nursing then at a hospital in Eastbourne. He had had a +bullet through the foot and was sent to the sea to recuperate. Strange +how instantly they had liked each other. His good nature, pluck, +generosity, were splendid assets in a friendship which went floundering +loveward after the fashion of those crazy days. There was the +fortnight they spent together in Town--perfectly respectable if a +little unorthodox. He had money to burn and she helped him burn it. +He had never asked more of her than companionship. Of course they +kissed each other--everyone did during the war--that was understood; +and he bought her presents too--ripping presents--and took her +everywhere--theatres, undreamed-of restaurants, dances. A glorious +time they had. He had denied her nothing except the offer of his name. +After all there was no particular reason why he should have asked her +to marry him--theirs was a mere partnership of gaiety added to which +she knew well enough that it would not have been practicable. They +were of a different mould. His blood was of the Counties and +hers--Lord knows where she came from--"the people" is the best covering +phrase to employ. She had been a mannequin in a Bond Street shop +before the war. But was it fair--was it just to engender a love of +luxury--to introduce her to all that her nature--vulgarised by +unfamiliarity--coveted most! If he had proposed likely enough she +would have been generous and refused him. But he didn't propose--he +took it for granted that they were no more to each other than the +moment dictated. There was a kind of long headed caution in his +diffidence with regard to the future. He was exigent too in his +demands and would not tolerate her being pleasant to anyone else. It +was her nature to be pleasant to all men and restraints were odious and +insulting. That was how the row came about. It took place on the +night before his return to Prance. It was her fault no doubt because +really he had been a ripping friend and loyal and trustworthy but the +little climber felt that for once she had failed to climb. She was +left, so to speak, in mid air, inoculated with the germs of all manner +of new ambitions no longer realisable. Wherefore she forgot her +affection for him and forgot all the lessons of politeness so +studiously acquired in the years of climbing and let him have her +opinions hot and strong as a simple uncultivated child of the people. +The expression on Anthony Barraclough's face read plainly enough relief +at his escape. He packed his valise and departed wondering greatly at +the intricacy and unreasonableness of women. It did not occur to him +that he was greatly to blame for having given her such a good time. +Such a consideration was as remote as the thought of congratulating +himself on his generosity. He was only awfully sorry she should have +turned out as she did and rather perplexed at the apparent want of +reason. And Auriole with the disposition to like him better than any +man of her acquaintance suffered an entire reversal of feeling and went +headlong to the other extreme in a spirit of unbecoming revengefulness. + +And in the valley below, under the shadow of a cloud, this man was +being tortured. + +"I never meant that," Auriole cried. "I never meant that--did I--did +I? I just wanted to pay him back. I just wanted----" She bit her +lower lip and choked. "What a fool I am," she gasped. "Haven't I won +a millionaire out of it? What's it matter if he does suffer a bit--he +wouldn't be the only one. A millionaire," she repeated, "a +millionaire--the wife of a railroad king. That's worth something +surely." + +A couple of unruly tears trickled out of her eyes and fell on her lap. +It is really too absurd that even the thought of a million pounds +cannot prevent a girl from crying. + + + + +CHAPTER 18. + +HOLDING OUT. + +Richard Frencham Altar had a sense of humour but never before in his +hitherto easy going life had he so earnestly needed it. A sense of +humour in a queer abstract way provides a quality of companionship--it +gives a man the power to be a pal to himself--to talk to himself +aloud--to laugh at adversity--to spot the comic side in the most +pathetic predicament. Each day provided something new in the matter of +discomfort or alarm. The calls he was obliged to make upon his +resources of humour were therefore severe and exacting. Over and over +again he had need to remind himself that there was something +classically funny in three financial giants demanding from him +information of which he was entirely ignorant and, technically +speaking, putting him on the rack in order to obtain it. The fun was +grim but it existed. No one ever thought of mentioning what it was +they wanted to find out--doubtless assuming that to do so was waste of +time. For his own satisfaction Richard would dearly have loved to ask +point blank what it was all about, but to indulge curiosity to that +extent would be to imperil the safety of the cause he represented. + +To keep a record of days he made a scratch on the wall paper each +morning with his finger nail. There were seventeen scratches in all +and he was as proud of them as an old campaigner of his medals for they +stood for seventeen successful engagements. Whoever it was had charge +of arranging his persecution lacked nothing in the way of imagination. +Methods of destroying his repose and a course of rigorous fasting were +prominent features but these were varied with details of a terrifying +and sometimes abominable kind. On one occasion thirty or forty rats +were introduced into his apartment where they fought and squeaked and +scurried all night long. But Richard's experiences in France had +robbed him of any particular fear of rats. If anything he welcomed +their appearance and devoted the short periods when the light was on to +shooting at them with a catapult fashioned from the elastic of a sock +suspender and a piece of angle iron detached from the underside of a +broken armchair. For ammunition he used a few bits of anthracite coal +which he found in the sitting room grate. Altogether he accounted for +seventeen before the servants arrived and deprived him of his weapon. +The remainder of the rats were corralled and carried away rejoicing. +This little entertainment took place during the first week of his +imprisonment and served the unhappy purpose of convincing his captors +that Richard's nerves were not susceptible to frivolous attacks. +Thereafter they concentrated on sterner measures. Food was reduced to +a minimum and frequently doped with chemicals that caused him acute +internal suffering. When the pain was at its height either Van Diest, +Laurence or Hipps would pay him a visit and over and over again the +question would be asked. + +Times out of number sheer desperation and want of sleep almost induced +him to give away the secret but something inside his nature--some +fourth dimensional endurance over which he appeared to have the most +astounding control--checked the impulse. Often he wondered at himself +and questioned how he contrived to face the pressure put upon him, but +the only motive he could trace beyond the stalwart desire of every +decent man to take his gruel without squealing was an ambition to be +able to meet Auriole Craven's eyes squarely when she came to see him +and say "I'm afraid your friends haven't got my strength just yet." +She would shake her head at that and reply cynically--"It's only a +matter of time, Anthony." But at the back of her eyes was a light that +seemed to read "Well done you." + +He was in a sad enough plight on the morning of the seventeenth day +when the door opened and Van Diest followed by Laurence entered the +room. + +Van Diest was chanting a German hymn, a habit greatly affected by him +in moments of perplexity. With thumbs tucked in his waistcoat and +fingers drumming upon the resonant rotundity of his waist line he +marched slowly up and down moaning the guttural words in a melancholy +and tuneless voice. Richard had learned to hate that song as cordially +as its performer. + +"Take it down another street," he implored. + +Van Diest stopped singing long enough to shake his head and Laurence +who had seated himself with crossed legs on one of the hard upright +chairs said "Barraclough" with a note of pseudo-friendly warning. + +"Why not have a shot at 'Avalon,'" Richard suggested sleepily. "Suit +you, that would, and make a nice change for me." His throat was +burning and talking was painful. + +"Hm! A change," said Van Diest. "I wass thinking you would want a +change very soon. It is tired you look this morning." + +"That's queer, for I had a splendid night." Richard's hollow, dark +rimmed eyes gave a lie to his words. + +"Hm! Laurence, they use the siren--yes?" + +Laurence nodded. + +"Had it going every ten minutes. Didn't give him much of a chance last +night." + +"So! But to these young boys sleep comes very easily--I think--think +it wass a goot idea to take away his bed--yes." + +Richard rolled his eyes threateningly toward the speaker and checked a +sudden torrent of abuse that sprang to his lips. + +"It iss bad for these boys to have too much comforts--s'very bad; with +the sleep fogged brain a man loses so much the intelligence. You will +arrange--yes?" + +"Of course I will if he insists," said Laurence. + +"Oh, you swine," said Richard staggering to his feet. "You rotten +blasted swine. Aren't you satisfied with what you've done--isn't it +enough that you make the nights into a hell for me--a screaming hell. +Sleep? How can I sleep? How can I sleep when----" + +A violent, paroxysm of coughing seized and shook him this way and that. + +"Tut, tut, tut! You haf a very bad cold there," said Tan Diest +sweetly. "You must eat one of these lozenges." + +Richard struck the box out of the hand that proffered it and fell +heaped up into a chair beside the table. + +"No pleasure to us you stay awake, eh, Laurence, eh?" + +"'Course not. Now don't look at me like that, old fellar, I was +thundering decent to you when first you arrived. Barring smoke, +literature and alcohol it was a home from home. It's your own pigeon +things have got a bit tight. Doesn't pay striking out against the +odds." + +"You little rat," said Richard turning a bit in his chair. "I'd +like----" and he closed his fist. + +"Silly talk, old chap, waste of time." + +"I could waste a lot of time that way." + +Laurence humped his shoulders. + +"What are you to do with a fellar like this?" + +Van Diest drew up a chair and smiled over the rims of his glasses. + +"Of course we let you go to sleep if you waas sensible. Consider now +the small shareholders that look to us for their little incomes. All +these widows from the war. You speak and you wass a rich man all at +once. Very soon forget the discomforts of these three weeks. S'no +goot--no goot to make a fuss." + +"I have nothing to say." + +"Ach!" said Van Diest and rose. "I'm afraid, Laurence, we must take +away this bed." + +But Richard raised no further protest and somewhere below stairs a gong +rumbled for lunch. It was part of the programme to emphasise the +arrival of meals and in spite of himself he could not resist starting +hungrily. Such signs and tokens were watched for. Laurence laid a +hand on his shoulder and whispered: + +"There's a fourth place laid, old friend." + +"Why not join us to the lunch," said Van Diest coaxingly, "just a word +spoken and--oh, it's goot the lunch." + +"Thanks, but I'm rather particular who I sit with," said Richard and +moved unsteadily toward the fireplace. + +"It's rather a special menu," Laurence remarked. "There's a lobster +Americaine--that was in Hipps' honour. But perhaps you don't care for +shellfish, Barraclough." + +"No, no, thank you. Prefer a Spartan diet. Glass of water and a piece +of bread." + +"Bread? Yes. I hope the baker remembered to call. Be awkward if---- +Well, come along, Chief, no good letting things get cold." + +They passed out of the room and the bolt slammed home. + +With a crazy impulse Richard staggered across the floor, seized the +door handle and shook it violently. One of those violent paroxysms of +hunger suddenly possessed him which while they endure are acute agony. +The longing for food gripped at his vitals like an eagle's claw and +drove reasoned action from his head. He knew well enough that there +was no escape to be made through the shuttered windows but ignoring the +knowledge he leapt toward them and seized the iron cross-bar. As he +lifted it from its slot the alarm bell above the frame rang out a fiery +summons. + +He fell back a pace beating the air impotently and whining. The door +opened and Blayney and Parker, the two men servants, entered. Parker +placed a tray on the table, then returned to stand in the open doorway. +Blayney, ignoring Richard's presence, replaced the shutter bar in its +old position and the bell stopped ringing. Then he turned and said: + +"I shouldn't advise you, to try the window, sir. There's a strong +electric current passes through the catch." + +"Thank you," said Richard and slouched despondently toward the table +where his glance fell upon the tray. Whatever victuals had been +provided were concealed beneath a small silver cover but there was a +napkin, a knife and fork and a cruet. On the whole it looked rather +promising. Then suddenly he noticed that the glass beside the plate +contained barely an inch of water. + +"I say," he exclaimed, "look! Can't I have a jog of water? There +isn't----" + +"Not today, sir," said Blayney. + +The very courtesy of the man was an incentive to fury. + +"Yes, but----" + +"Not today, sir." + +Parker in the doorway grinned. + +"Don't smirk at me, blast you," said Richard. + +Blayney nodded toward the bedroom and changed places with his +companion. When Parker came out he was carrying a great pile of +bedclothes. + +"Here, what are you doing? Put 'em down. D'you hear me?" + +"My orders were to take them away, sir." + +As Laurence had said it was useless to fight against present odds. +Richard shut his teeth tight. + +"Obey your orders," he said, but as the door was closing the craving +for drink mastered his pride. "For God's sake," he cried, "for God's +sake give me some more water. I'll give you twenty for a jug of +water--honest I will--twenty----" + +Blayney laid a finger to his lips and went out. The gesture might have +meant anything. With trembling hand Richard seized the glass of water +and drained it at a gulp. There was miserably little--it barely cooled +the heat of his throat. Whimpering he set the glass down and lifted +the cover from the plate. Underneath was a cube of bread the size of a +lump of sugar. With a savage cry he picked it up and flung it across +the room but a moment later was on all fours gathering up the broken +bits and pieces and eating them wolfishly. + +Blayney found him searching pathetically for the last crumb when he +came stealthily into the room and put a tin mug on the table. + +"I'll collect that twenty later," he said and vanished. + +Almost like a miser Richard took the mug in his hands and purred over +it possessively. With a sigh of absolute content he raised it to his +lips. Then a scream broke from him--harsh, strident, savage. There +were no soft spots in the walls of Hugo Van Diest's fortress. The +water was salt. + + + + +CHAPTER 19. + +AT THE CHESTNUTS. + +Mrs. Barraclough was one of those old ladies who are constantly being +surprised. She courted surprise. She never forestalled a climax and +of the hundreds of sensational novels which she so greedily devoured +never once was she guilty of taking a premature peep at the last +chapter to ensure herself that right would triumph. "I shall find out +all about it in good time" was the motto she affected. This being so +she made no effort to secure Isabel's confidence but simply waited for +Isabel to speak. The same reticence possessed her in the matter of the +four mysterious serving girls. She hadn't the smallest idea why +Anthony had suddenly transformed himself into a domestic agency +although, at the back of her head, she guessed at a deep underlying +motive. It gratified her beyond measure to be surrounded by unfathomed +waters and frequently as a corollary to her prayers she would thank God +for the little excitements and mysteries He sent to flavour her +declining years. + +After the uncontrollable rush of tears on her arrival Isabel pulled +herself together and made a show of gaiety and preserved it nobly for +nearly three weeks. Anthony had gone and gloomy forebodings were of no +service. Accordingly she helped Mrs. Barraclough in the garden and +made the very best friends of the four girls. Perhaps she was the +least bit resentful on finding out that they knew almost as much of +Anthony's plans as she herself. + +"But did he tell you?" she asked in surprise. + +"It's like this," said Flora who generally spoke for the company. +"Jane and myself were with him in the Secret Service during the last +year of the war." + +"He got us the job," Jane interpolated. She was a big, bonny girl with +broad shoulders, steady blue eyes and a complexion that would have +advertised any health resort. "Cook kicks herself that she wasn't in +that show." + +It was at this point Mrs. Barraclough came into the room. + +"Kicks herself! What a very unbecoming expression, Jane." + +"Sorry, madam," said Jane and she and Flora sniggered uncontrollably. + +"You girls perplex me greatly," said Mrs. Barraclough. "You do not +laugh in the least like ordinary servants." + +"How do ordinary servants laugh?" Jane asked. + +"Generally speaking, in a high note that echoes distressingly +throughout the house, whereas you laugh like young ladies." + +"Oh, you old darling," exclaimed Flora with sudden impulsiveness. "I +suppose if a decent education and upbringing counts for anything that's +just what we are." + +Mrs. Barraclough sat down rather abruptly on a small upright sofa in +the centre of the room. + +"Then for goodness sake tell me what you are doing in my kitchen." + +There was no escaping the explanation especially when Isabel +contributed: + +"Come on, Flora, out with it." + +"It's this way, madam. Lots of us went broke after the war--lots of us +who'd only fifty quid a year to live on." + +"Quid?" said Mrs. Barraclough. "Isn't that something to do with +sailors and tobacco?" + +"Pounds, then. We ran across Mr. Anthony out in France." + +"Picked him out of a ditch near Arras with a bullet through his foot," +Jane contributed. + +"And after that got most awfully friendly and kept knocking up against +each other." + +Mrs. Barraclough shook her head. + +"It must have been very painful for him with a bullet through his foot." + +"When he heard we'd gone broke he said--just like him--'my mother's a +sport, go and look after her.'" + +"So I'm a sport," said Mrs. Barraclough with a smile. "But even so, +why should I want looking after?" + +"That's what puzzles me," said Isabel. + +Jane and Flora exchanged glances. + +"I don't know whether we ought to," said Jane. + +"He's my fiancé," said Isabel, "and you're jolly well not going to keep +me in the dark." + +"And quite incidentally," Mrs. Barraclough remarked, "he's my son." + +"Oh, very well," said Flora. "It seems he was all over some great big, +get rich quick scheme--and there was a chance anyone connected with him +might be got at." + +"Got at!" Mrs. Barraclough's dark eyes opened a little wider. + +"Um! A tough crowd was up against him you see." + +"I see." The old lady nodded gravely but there was a sparkle of +excitement in her expression. "So you and Jane and Cynthia and Agnes +are here to protect me against the assaults of--of a 'tough crowd.'" + +"We're here if we're wanted," said Jane robustly. + +"And somehow," said Flora, "I think we shall be wanted." + +Mrs. Barraclough's hands went out and she drew the two girls a little +closer. + +"My dears," she said, "I don't know why but lately I've had a pringly +sort of feeling--as if something were going to happen. It's a sense of +adventure perhaps. I used to be a very wild girl myself." + +"But you mustn't worry," said Isabel. "It's sure to turn out all +right, you know." + +"I'm not worrying. I'm only hoping that if anything does happen I +shall be in it." + +"But look here," exclaimed Flora, "that's the very thing he wants to +prevent." + +"Yes, yes, but I know my Anthony, bless him. It would be so beautiful +to help him again after all these years." She smiled retrospectively. +"When he was a little boy he was always coming into conflict with his +father. Poor Mr. Barraclough, he was a very austere man and Anthony's +scrapes inspired from him the severest judgments. Tony had a little +signal--he was much too proud to speak--he used to take out his pocket +handkerchief and quite carelessly tie a knot in the centre. Whenever +he did that I used to come to his aid. Dear Tony, I was always the one +to rescue him from difficulty." + +"He gets his pluck from you," said Flora. + +"His father was a brave man too, until he had a little misfortune with +a mule which rather upset his balance." + +"Generally does," Isabel laughed. + +"Mental balance," Mrs. Barraclough corrected. "For the last few years +of his life he thought he was Archbishop of Canterbury and if dead +people think I'm sure he believes he is buried in Westminster Abbey. +There, run along, my dears, and leave me to collect my thoughts." + +But she kissed Flora and Jane before letting them go. Isabel stayed in +the room. + +"So my boy is in danger," said Mrs. Barraclough with the least touch of +tragedy in her voice. Isabel came forward and put an arm around her +neck. "You knew, my dear?" + +Isabel nodded. + +"They oughtn't to have told you." + +Mrs. Barraclough snorted defiantly. + +"Stuff and nonsense. Think I hadn't guessed? After all, a proper man +ought to be in danger. Besides," she added, "he's a good enough +reason, hasn't he?" + +"What reason?" + +"Doesn't he want to marry you?" + +"I know," said Isabel forlornly, "but that would have happened in any +case." + +"Don't you be too sure, my dear. Now I'm going to let you into my +confidence--mind I'm only putting two and two together but I'm pretty +sure I've got the total right. Did you know that Tony had put every +penny he possessed into this enterprise?" + +Isabel started. + +"No. What makes you believe that?" + +"Because all I've got is in it too, and he would never ask of me what +he feared to do himself." + +"Then you know all about it?" + +"Hardly anything." + +"But he oughtn't----" + +"I think the risks and dangers came afterward." + +"Even so," said Isabel, "it's just for money. That's what I hate so." + +"Isn't it just for you," said Mrs. Barraclough gently. "Just because +if he failed he wouldn't be able to make you his wife." + +"He never told me." + +"Of course he didn't. How could he?" + +"Are you sure of all this?" + +"Practically certain. You see his Uncle Arthur is executor of Tony's +affairs. Executors are not supposed to speak but Uncle Arthur was an +exception who proves the rule." + +"For me," said Isabel slowly. "For our marriage--for us. Oh, I'm so +glad it wasn't for cash." A cloud came over her brow. "But it makes +it frightfully difficult for me supposing I had to----" + +"What?" + +"I mustn't say--even to you." + +Mrs. Barraclough didn't press for an answer. She was pleased there was +a little bit of mystery left over. + +Isabel kissed the old lady very tenderly and walked out into the rose +garden by herself. There was a glow on her cheeks almost as pink as +the roses themselves. It was a sweet relief that Anthony had gone into +these dangers more for her sake than any other reason and that their +happiness and future rested on his success. In her twenty-one years of +life she had come too much into contact with men whose ruling passion +was the dollar to the exclusion of all else. At the back of her head +the fear had haunted her that Anthony had been bitten by the money +bug--the hateful contagion that straightened and thinned the lips, +chilled the emotions and case-hardened the kindliest natures. But now +that fear was gone to be replaced with glad assurance. + +On a semi-circular stone bench that backed the roadside hedge Isabel +sat and hugged her knees and here a few moments later she was joined by +Flora. + +"He's a topper, your man," said Flora. "A downright first rater." + +Isabel grinned an acknowledgment. + +"Did he have any trouble in getting away?" + +"Awful, I believe, but--but they had a plan which he said would make it +easy." + +On the road side of the hedge, barely three feet away, a clergyman, who +apparently was seeking protection from the sun, moved sharply and +cocked a listening ear. + +"What plan?" + +"He didn't tell me that and anyhow I shouldn't be allowed to repeat it." + +The listening clergyman looked disappointed. + +"Do you know what he was going after?" + +"Yes, I know." + +"Wouldn't care to tell anyone, I s'pose. I'm as safe as a house." + +"I'm certain you are, only----" + +"Oh, well, it doesn't matter so long as he got away all right. He did +get away all right, didn't he?" + +"Yes, I--I think so--he must have or his servant, Doran, would have +told me." + +Harrison Smith, on the far side of the hedge, pushed back his clerical +hat and frowned deeply. + +"And you had no message?" + +Isabel shook her head. + +"None. So I just tell myself everything is all right." + +"Oh, I'm sure it is--certain," said Flora ecstatically. "It's bound to +be. Mr. Anthony'd never let himself be beaten by any crowd." She +paused. "If only one could be in it--but nothing ever happens down +here. Are you staying much longer?" + +"Going back tomorrow or the next day. I must be in Town on the night +of the 18th." + +"That the day he's expected?" + +"Yes, at eleven o'clock." + +"Wish I could be there to give him a cheer when he comes in." + +Isabel slipped an arm through Flora's. + +"It's great of you to be so keen," she said. + +"Think so," Flora replied. "Jolly sporting of you not to mind. We've +got a bit of a 'pash' on Mr. Anthony, you know." + +"I thought you had," said Isabel sympathetically. + +"Kind of hero worship it is. Nothing to bother about 'cos as matter of +fact we're all engaged--'cept Cook who hates men. But even Cook can't +help admiring him. Be a sport and let us know if he gets through all +right. You could 'phone." + +"I will." + +"Any notion which port he'll arrive at?" + +"Couldn't say. I've a sort of idea that it might be one of the little +Cornish fishing villages." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"No particular reason only----" + +"Yes, go on--be a pal." + +"You won't repeat it?" + +"No fear." + +"There was a West Country guide book on his table one day and I +happened to glance at it." + +"Um." + +"Ever heard of Polperro?" + +"Yes." + +"On one of the maps Polperro had a pencil line ringed round it and a +couple of very small dots marked in certain places." + +"That might have been years old." + +"It wasn't. I had lent him a blue pencil a few days before--rather a +funny colour it was. He'd used that pencil." + +"You're a bit of a Sherlock." + +"I oughtn't to have said anything about it." + +"It's safe enough with me," said Flora. "You can bet your boots I +shan't blab." + +A silvery toned bell sounded from the house. + +"There's tea," said Isabel. + +The two girls rose and moved away arm in arm. + +Mr. Harrison Smith pulled out his watch and looked at the dial. + +"With luck I can catch it," said he. + +And through the drawing room window Mrs. Barraclough saw the unusual +spectacle of a clergyman running like fury in the direction of the +railway station. As she remarked a few moments later: + +"This is indeed an age of speed. Even the delivery of the Gospel is +conducted by express service." + + + + +CHAPTER 20. + +A LITTLE HOUSEBREAKING. + +The train which conveyed Mr. Harrison Smith back to London stopped at +every intermediate station and did not arrive until after ten o'clock. +He, therefore, was given leisure for thought and the result of his +thinking was to bring him perilously near the truth. + +He began with the premise that somehow Anthony Barraclough had +succeeded in making good his escape--that he was even now obtaining the +concession--that he would return to London on the night of the 18th +instant at eleven o'clock in all probability carrying the document upon +his person. All this was plain sailing but against it was the +established fact that Anthony Barraclough was imprisoned in Laurence's +house. If this were indeed the case further investigation was useless. +But was it the case? + +The girl Isabel Irish had said there was a plan to make his exit from +London easy but no evidence had been given to suggest that this plan, +whatever it was, had been put into operation. Torrington's syndicate +was not composed of fools and yet the kidnapping of Barraclough had +been mere child's play without a speck of opposition. His own side had +been guilty of an act of crass stupidity in failing to carry off the +servant Doran as well as his master. It was one of those tragic +oversights which occur in the most carefully laid plans. +Unquestionably Doran would have told his employers what happened on the +night of the 27th and they could hardly have failed to guess the truth. +And yet, as private information assured him, not the smallest effort +had been made to rescue the man in whose brain was a secret worth +millions. And quite suddenly the truth, or a guess at the truth, +dawned upon him. Torrington's crowd must have been aware of the +intention to kidnap Barraclough and for a reason known only to +themselves had deliberately allowed it to take place. Why? Had +another man been sent in Barraclough's place? He dismissed that theory +without dissection. The shape of Barraclough's jaw and the line of his +mouth belonged to the type that does not unduly trust his fellow men. +Why? Was another man occupying Barraclough's place--deputising for him +in his absence? + +Harrison Smith struck one hand against the other. "By God," he +exclaimed. "It's the most unlikely thing in the world but I'm going to +believe it. I'm going to believe that the chap with the humorous lines +round his eyes is no more Barraclough than I am." + +He alighted at Waterloo Station aglow with excitement. His first +thought was to proceed post haste to Laurence's house and lay before +them the result of his deductions, but a second and more personal +consideration dissuaded him. There had been little enough +encouragement when last he interfered. He had been rudely ordered to +leave things alone. No, he would work out this deal himself and if +anything came of it approach Van Diest and Hipps for a lion's share of +the plunder. Weeks ago it had been arranged; if by any means +Barraclough succeeded in slipping through the outposts and obtaining +the concession, he was to be quietly thugged on his return and the +paper destroyed. As Ezra Hipps had said, "If we fail to get it for +ourselves it's damn sure no one else is going to profit." Wherefore +all he had to do was to intercept the returning treasure seeker, put +him securely away and then talk business to his own employers. + +Harrison Smith hailed a taxi and told the driver to go down the +Commercial Road as far as the Poplar Town Hall. This was not a job +that could be tackled single handed--on the other hand it would be +unwise to admit more people to his confidence than were absolutely +necessary. He dismissed the taxi and proceeded on foot down one of the +narrow crooked byways abounding in that region. The place was quiet +and deserted save for a few Orientals--Lascars and Chinamen--who leaned +against the walls of their dwellings in silent contemplation of the +stars. + +At the side door of a small and disreputable public house he paused and +knocked thrice with the handle of his cane and presently the door was +opened by a girl. She was a Jewess and lovely to look at, with the +fresh, shameless beauty peculiar to very young girls of that faith. +Recognising Harrison Smith she smiled a welcome and said: + +"You're in luck--he's sober! Upstairs, in the front room." + +She smiled again, revealing a perfect row of little white teeth which +mocked the string of cheap pearls at her throat. As he climbed the +stairs Harrison Smith speculated on the odd contrast this girl +presented to her surroundings. The silk of her stockings, the bangles +and gewgaws, the ultra patent leather of her shoes, bore so little +relation to the squalor of the narrow passage with its damp stained +walls, carpetless floor and hissing gas jet. Probably nowhere in the +world do greater incongruities exist than in the East End of London. + +Mr. Alfred Bolt, minus coat, collar, tie and shoes, was seated in an +arm chair, his feet reposing upon the mantel-piece. At his elbow was a +glass of whiskey and water with a slice of lemon floating on the +surface. His waistcoat was undone and the white of his shirt +emphasised the enormous girth of his corporation. His legs were short, +his hands fat, his face round and margined with a half circle of hair +beneath the chin. At the first glance you would have taken him for the +model from which Will Owen must have illustrated the stories of W. W. +Jacobs. One would have expected him to remind the passer-by that it +was "a nice day for a sail" or alternatively to demand "Any more for +the Skylark?" But a closer inspection would have shaken the foundation +of so simple a belief for Mr. Alfred Bolt's eyes were not of the honest +kind worn by men who go down to the sea in ships. They were close set, +narrow lidded, cunning, piggy little eyes that caused unrest to look +upon. + +At the sight of Harrison Smith he removed his feet from the mantelpiece +and extended an open armed welcome. + +"Welcome and thrice welcome, my dear brother," he intoned in an +admirable imitation of the accepted ecclesiastical method. "I rejoice +indeed to observe that you are now in Holy Orders." Then with a drop +into the vernacular. "Blind me, Smith, what the hell are you doing +with your collar back to front?" + +Harrison Smith gave a hurried explanation. + +"But I thought that job was cleared up," said Bolt. + +"Maybe it is, but there's a chance of a big coup that no one expected. +Now, if you care to take a hand." + +Mr. Bolt fancied himself as a mimic, indeed he harboured the opinion +that he was a peer even to the late Sir Henry Irving in the matter of +"take offs." He could imitate a cat or a Chinaman, while his thumb +nail impressions of sundry Hebraic neighbours were only rivalled by his +flawless caricatures of natives of Germany or the New Hebrides. But +best of all he loved to assume the inflexion, guise and bearing of a +member of the clergy--a circumstance very possibly explained by the +fact that his own private life was as far removed from the office of +virtue as could be imagined. + +"Be unafraid, my son," quoth he. "If your heart is full speak into my +listening ear and may a blessing fall on your confession." Then +fashioning a trumpet with his two hands he bellowed like a fog horn: +"Becky! A drop of whiskey hot for the gent." And while the +refreshment was being procured he observed parenthetically: "A nice +little piece, ain't she? Very smart and dossy. Come on, Smith, my +boy--my jolly old beau--dear old cracker, soak up the juice of the +barley and expound the tale of woe." + +Harrison Smith wasted no time in explaining the case while Bolt +listened with great concentration, nodding approval at this point or +that. + +"Hm! Worth trying anyway," he agreed. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Take over my place at Clyst St. Mary. Can't explain why but I've a +sort of notion things may happen there. It's a queer household--lot of +smart girls looking after an old woman--Barraclough's mother." + +"What's she like?" + +"Never got near enough to find out. Decent enough old thing. Goes to +church a lot." + +"Shrewd?" + +"Never struck me so at a distance. Might be anything--bit of a +fool--mostly are--that old country sort." + +Mr. Bolt mused. + +"Goes to church, does she." His eyes travelled over Harrison Smith's +black garments. "Why didn't you call?" + +"Didn't strike me. Fancy she knows very little." + +"'Curs to me," said Bolt, "I might do the clergyman stunt myself in +those parts. I've got some stuff. A bit of the old Wesley--'Quiet +harbourage from the turmoil of city life, my dear lady. An occasional +hour in your beautiful garden.' That's the ticket." + +"Then get off straight away. There's a train at five a.m. from +Waterloo. You can have my room at the pub. I'll give you a note to +the proprietor." + +"And assuming I meet brother Barraclough?" + +"Get him," responded Harrison Smith laconically. "Make as little fuss +as possible but get him." + +Mr. Bolt nodded and the piggy little eyes twinkled greedily. + +"Trust me," he said. "Anything else you want?" + +Harrison Smith thought for a moment. + +"That chap Dirk," he said. "Could you find him for me?" + +"Sure." + +"Then tell him to meet me at Paddington tomorrow morning 9.50." + +"Right." + +"And you might lend me that bunch of spring-lock keys." + +"Going to have a squint at that guide book?" queried Bolt shrewdly as +he turned over the contents of a table drawer in search of the keys. + +"Going to have a try," came the answer. + +Bolt rippled out a fat, greasy chuckle. + +"Pleasure to work with you, Smith," said he. "Yes indeed. Though it's +a bit risky putting one over on the Dutchman." He fell into a thick, +guttural "S'bad--s'bad pizness. Dese servants wass ver' insubordinate. +S'bad. Well, good luck, ole boy." + +They shook hands cordially. + +The Commercial Road was deserted when Harrison Smith came out of the +narrow byway. The chance of finding a conveyance was small but his +practical sense suggested turning into the West India Dock Road where, +at the gates of the dock, he had the good fortune to secure a +dilapidated four-wheeler. Progress was painfully slow and hours seemed +to pass before they finally turned out of the broad cobbled highway and +passed through the silent empty city. Two o'clock was striking when he +dismissed the cab in Piccadilly. At his own rooms in Crown Court, St. +James's, he changed into ordinary clothes and proceeded on foot to +Albemarle Street. Before the entrance to Crest Chambers Harrison Smith +stopped and broke into a torrent of imprecation. He had forgotten that +the downstairs door would be shut. It was of heavy mahogany and +secured by an ordinary variety of lock against which the bunch of keys +in his pocket were of no service whatsoever. He was shaking his fist +angrily when the sound of footsteps accompanied by a snatch of song +attracted his attention. A young man in evening dress, wearing an +opera hat at a raffish angle and carrying his hands in his trousers +pockets turned out of the adjoining side street and approached the spot +where he was standing. A single glance was enough to convince Harrison +Smith that the young man was in a state of spiritual exaltation +bordering on ecstasy. The words of a song he sang sounded unnaturally +clear--like music from another planet. + +"I'm one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit," he sang over +and over again as though the words contained relish enough to justify +any limit of repetition. Coming abreast of Harrison Smith he halted +abruptly and, rocking on his heels, broke into a cherubic smile. + +"Goo' man," he said. "Les-see, it's ol' Petersh, ishn't it?" + +"That's it," said Harrison Smith, "old Peters." + +With startling suddenness the young man produced a latch key and thrust +it into Harrison Smith's palm. + +"Ope' th' door, ol' top. Ope' door an' we'll have a quick lil' spot +together." + +Here was unlooked for good fortune of which Harrison Smith lost no time +in availing himself. Lending a trifling support to his impromptu host +they entered the building and ascended in the electric lift to the +fourth floor. There was a brass plate on the front door which informed +the curious that the owner of the flat was called Royston. + +"Just a quick one," said Smith as they entered a comfortable sitting +room adorned by photographs of lovely ladies. "I've had a trying day +and want to turn in." + +"T'hell with that," said Royston. "Wha's matter with seein' in the +dawn?" + +He produced a bottle of whiskey and two glasses--not without casualties +among their fellows--set them on a coffin stool and fell into a deep +arm chair. + +"Help 'self and help me--'cos I'm ver' tired--ov' tired." + +Harrison Smith embraced the opportunity of pouring out a perfect +deadener for his host into which he discreetly added a pinch of cigar +ash from a convenient stump (a concoction which in the absence of more +potent drugs will produce very gratifying results). + +While he was so employed Mr. Royston descanted freely on the subject of +lovely women in the choice of which he declared himself to be an +epicure. + +"See that one--pho' frame--piano. Tho'bred--perfect tho'bred--a +darling--love 'er--love 'em all." + +"That's the talk," said Harrison Smith who was cursing the enforced +delay. "Drink her health, old man, and no heel taps." + +Mr. Royston rose nobly to the occasion and swallowed the contents of +his glass at a single gulp. + +"Blesh 'em!" he said. "Blesh 'em." + +He seized the arm of his chair while the room spun round him in a dizzy +whirl. + +"Blast you, Petersh," he cried. "Thash pre-war whiskey. Sh-shot me +clean through the brain pan. C-caught in the brewersh web." + +He swayed a little and settled down on the floor by sections. Harrison +Smith stooped and put a cushion beneath his head. + +"All ri' soon--qui' all ri'. Fac' is I'm one of the ruins Crom'll +knocked about a bit." The voice tailed away into a deep, slumberous +groan. + +A minute later Harrison Smith was at the door of Barraclough's flat on +the landing below. The fourth key on the bunch turned the latch and +silently as a cat he slipped into the hall. A quick observation of the +chambers above had given him a fair idea of which room was which and he +had no trouble in locating the study door in the dark. Before turning +on a light he assured himself that the window curtains were drawn. He +realised the need to be very silent in all his actions since +Barraclough's servant was in all probability sleeping on the premises +and ex-service men of the regular army have an awkward knack of +sleeping lightly. He closed the door without even a click from the +latch, then turned up a standard lamp that stood on the writing table. +In the pen tray beneath the lamp was a blue pencil--a new one--since +obviously it had never been sharpened and the chalk point was scarcely +worn at all. The other end of the pencil had been deeply bitten in a +dozen places, a circumstance which Harrison Smith noted with +satisfaction. The other pencils and pens in the tray bore no teeth +marks. It was reasonable, therefore, to surmise that its owner had +been engaged in some knotty and puzzling problem at the time of use. + +"I believe the girl was on the right track," he muttered to himself and +turned his attention to the bookshelves. One of the cases was given +over entirely to a collection of local guide books surprisingly +complete in map and detail. There were four volumes dealing with +Cornwall and it was only the matter of a moment to find the one to +which Isabel had referred. Bringing it to the light Harrison Smith +hastily turned over the pages until he came to the squared map that +showed the village of Polperro. But here disappointment awaited +him--for not a sign of the blue pencil mark showed upon the page. He +was on the point of closing the book when he made a discovery. + +The light striking across the paper revealed the fact that the surface +in places bore a polished appearance. The reason was significant. +Barraclough, leaving nothing to chance, had erased the pencil marks +with indiarubber. If anything could emphasise the value of his +discovery surely it was this and Harrison Smith fairly tingled with +excitement. He picked up a magnifying glass and closely examined the +erasement. There had been a line drawn round the village and on the +outskirts, where three cottages clustered together, was the impression +of a single dot. At roughly a mile inland from the village where a +footpath converged with the road was another dot, seemingly situated in +the middle of a clump of trees. + +Harrison Smith was satisfied. He hastily dropped the book into his +pocket, restored its fellows to their former position on the shelves +and tiptoed across the room to extinguish the light. Thus far Fortune +had favoured him, but she is a capricious lady wont to change her +allegiance with startling suddenness. If there had been a length of +yellow flex to the electric standard the accident would never have +happened. It is simply asking for trouble to use red flex on a red +carpet. Harrison Smith's foot tangled in the wire and down came the +table lamp with a crash. Simultaneously there came a shout from +another part of the flat. For a second Harrison Smith stood spellbound +at the disaster he had caused--robbed of the power of action. + +It was the sound of bare feet pattering on the parquet of the hall that +restored his senses and as the door of the room flew open he stamped on +the still burning electric bulb lying at his feet. The detonation as +it flew into fragments came simultaneously with the sharp, stinging +report of a small calibre pistol. The room was plunged into utter +darkness in which could be heard the sound of two men breathing and the +zinging of the mantelpiece brasses from the double explosion. Then +silence--no movement--and the mind of Harrison Smith worked like a +streak of lightning. His hand was on the back of a heavy arm chair and +the touch of it suggested an idea. + +He gave a thin, whispering sigh and cried out in a high pitched voice. + +"My God! You've killed me!" + +Then he tilted back the arm chair and allowed it to fall with a soft +thud to the floor. + +Another silence, then the sound of a man moving forward. Harrison +Smith side stepped and, keeping in touch with the wall, navigated +through the darkness toward the door. + +"Serve you damn well right," said Doran in a voice that was startlingly +near. + +Harrison Smith's luck had returned. He found the door and passed +through it and down the hall as quietly as a draught. He heard a click +as Doran switched up the lights, followed by an oath. Then he streaked +down the main stairway with a flight and a half start. A second was +lost at the hall door fumbling for the latch and in that second Doran +fired again but missed. As Harrison Smith shot out into Albemarle +Street he collided heavily with a constable, attracted to the scene by +the noise of the shots, but him he overturned to such good effect that +he was crossing Piccadilly before the blast of the inevitable whistle +screeched through the night. There was no further opposition to his +progress and in St. James's Street he fell into a walk and finally +entered his own apartment unobserved. + +A little breathless but entirely satisfied he flung himself on the bed +for a couple of hours' sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER 21. + +THE CORNISH RIVIERA. + +In the summer time all the best people, and many who fall short of +perfection, go westward to the Cornish Riviera. It is the thing to do. +The taxi, the station 'bus, the private automobile, and even the almost +extinct four-wheeler, high laden with luggage, by common consent roll +down the slope into Paddington and deliver up their cargoes. Long are +the queues at the booking offices, thronged the platforms, and loud the +voices of those who command. Each little party of voyagers would seem +to have its own alarums as an inevitable adjunct to excursion. The +genius for organising is manifest on all sides with resultant chaos. +Orders and injunctions are flung broadcast--misinterpreted and +sometimes abused. The germ of panic infects the multitude. + +There was nothing Freddie Dirk liked better than a holiday crowd. They +inspired in him a sense of profound gratitude. Their generosity was +boundless. To a gentleman of his skill in the matter of property +exchange they represented a fortune. Whatsoever the imagination might +picture and the heart of man covet could be had at the mere turn of a +hand. + +His appointment with Harrison Smith was for 9.50, but Freddie Dirk +arrived half an hour ahead of time and this grace he put to excellent +account. He had learnt from Bolt that Cornwall was their destination, +wherefore his first care was to procure two first-class tickets for +Plymouth from the cuff of a gentleman's raincoat--a feat in strict +accordance with the laws of economy. The high cost of living had of +late reduced his supply of ready cash, on which account he could hardly +be blamed for taking possession of a wad of notes carelessly entrusted +to a side pocket by another passenger who was seeking to economise by +carrying his own bag. Being an essentially practical man Freddie Dirk +resisted the temptation to acquire a suitcase in crocodile by Pound. +Reticence in the matter did him credit and he rewarded himself with a +single stone diamond scarf pin that greatly enhanced the appearance of +his own cravat. He was debating with himself the question of a string +of pearls of no very great value when Harrison Smith's hand fell upon +his shoulder. + +"That's a blame silly thing to do," said Dirk when he had recovered +from his initial surprise. "Blame silly. Might 'ave a bit more +respec' for a man's nerves." + +Harrison Smith cursed him fluently as he led the way to a Ford car +standing in the yard. + +"Lot of use to me you'd have been if the splits had got you. It's a +big job we're tackling and I don't want it spoilt by dam-fool sneak +thief tricks." + +Freddie Dirk apologised and explained his distaste for idleness. + +"Ain't we going by train--'cos I got the tickets." + +"No." + +"Well, 'ang on a minute while I gets the money back." + +But even this business coup was denied and with a sense of opportunity +lost he entered the car. + +There was nothing prepossessing in Freddie Dirk's appearance. He was +of the low brow, heavy jaw, bruiser type. The term a "tough" fits him +closely. He had a punch like a kick from a dray horse but when called +upon to use his hands he preferred to rely upon his mascot to ensure +success. Freddie's mascot was a few lengths of whalebone bound with +twine and socketed into a pear-shaped lump of lead. Scientifically +wielded it would go through the helmet of a City policeman like a hot +knife through butter. He had a healthy dislike for firearms which was +perhaps the primary cause of his failure to serve King and Country in +the late war. His skill as a draft dodger had earned him a great +reputation among many of his fellows equally diffident in their will to +serve. + +"I've got you into this," said Harrison Smith as they chugged up the +station incline, "because I want a man who'll stick at nothing." + +Dirk nodded. + +"There's a chance we may have to----" + +"That's orl rite--least said soonest mended." + +"Barraclough is a bit of a bear cat and if he's got the concession on +him you can lay odds he'll fight." + +"If he's got the blinking thing don't see 'ow we're going to make much +aht of it." + +"Wouldn't his own side pay a goodish cheque? And wouldn't old Van cash +in to have it destroyed." + +Dirk grinned very prettily revealing his broken front teeth in all the +glory of the morning sun. + +"I get you. A private deal, like, favouring whichever market pays +best." + +"That's the idea. There's a fortune in it if we get him tucked away in +some quiet place." + +"It's a treat to work with you," said Dirk enthusiastically. "I'll lay +a quart there ain't a finer 'ead piece than yours from 'Oxton to +'Ammersmith." + +"Thank you," said Harrison Smith. "Try and remember that and obey +orders quick as you get 'em." + +"That's rite, captain, that's the talk. Give me a man wot talks +strite." + +A Ford is a marvellous eater up of miles and Harrison Smith did not +spare his engine nor linger upon the way. Evening was falling when at +last they descended the hill into the little fishing village of +Polperro. They ran into the inn yard and tried to bespeak a lodging +for the night but in this they were unlucky for there was no +accommodation to be had. The best obtainable was a shake down in the +stable loft, granted on a promise to refrain from smoking. Having +refilled the petrol tank and assured themselves that the Ford was in +sound running order against the morrow's needs they entered the inn. + +"We'll get a snack now," said Harrison Smith, "and after that take a +look round and make a few enquiries." + +The schooners of ale provided by mine host to wash down the simple +country fare were entirely agreeable to Freddie Dirk's parched palate. +It had been a long day and, as he pointed out, refreshment had been all +too scarce. Harrison Smith might be, and undoubtedly was, an excellent +fellow but he did not understand the urgent need for beer without which +no good man was at his best. It was all very well going out and asking +questions and poking one's nose into this, that and the other but far +greater advantage was to be won by poking one's nose into deep foaming +tankards of beer. Closing hour came all too soon and it would be time +enough to seek fresh diversion after that unhappy event. + +Wishing to remain in the good graces of his companion Harrison Smith +shrugged his shoulders and sallied forth alone in the direction of the +quay. The tide was out and from the mud and sand came the pungent +ozonous smell of rotting sea vegetation. Dazzling white gulls wheeled +and hovered in the air or noisily disputed the possession of fragments +of fish and the offal of the market. In the pool a dozen trawlers, +green striped and numbered, with furled brown sails and slackened +rigging rode sweetly at anchor. A knot of seamen leaned against the +outer stone wall of the pier smoking pipes and gazing idly across the +opal coloured sea. A couple of artists were wrestling valiantly with +the thousand subtle difficulties of the scene--trying to transmit to +canvas the changing lights upon the water, the pink blush on the +white-washed houses and the dull grey shadows on the mud. It was a +scene calm and sweet enough to awaken gentleness and set romance astir +but in Harrison Smith's mind it inspired no more than a sense of doubt +and disappointment. Surely this tiny harbour was an unlikely landing +for a man to choose who carried in his pocket the key to millions. No +decent sized vessel would ever put into such a port. The place was +asleep--dead almost. + +A blasting conviction that the marks in the guide book had no +connection whatever with the business in hand came over him. +Barraclough might have put them there expressly to deceive the girl. +He was subtle enough to employ such a device. What if after all the +others were right and it was indeed Barraclough they had kidnapped? A +pretty fool he would look then. + +Shaking himself out of these melancholy forebodings Harrison Smith +approached an old seaman with the offer of a "good evening" and a fill +of tobacco. + +"Pretty quiet hereabouts," he remarked. + +The old man nodded. + +"Still I dare say you get steamers and such like popping in every day +to liven things up." + +"Bearn't draught enuff for steamers. They doan't bother us much, +steamers doan't." + +The reply was not encouraging. + +"I see the fishing fleet is at anchor. Weather too calm?" + +"Couldn't say thaat." + +"Going out tonight?" + +"Med-do." + +"And how do you get rid of your fish?" + +"Us sells 'er." + +"I mean do you send it up by road?" + +"Naw!" + +"Steam trawler comes in to collect it?" + +"Doan't come in--not very often it doan't." + +Harrison Smith turned away with a sigh, leaving the old man sucking at +his pipe and spitting reflectively. There was no illumination to be +found in that quarter. + +More than ever doubtful of success he passed slowly through the village +to its inland outskirts and there he paused to study the map. It might +be worth while taking a casual glance at the group of three cottages +marked by Barraclough with the pencil point. They were easily located +but their outward appearance suggested little enough connection with +the mystery. They were fashioned of grey Cornish granite with slate +roofs and the inevitable fuchsia bushes in the front gardens. One of +them boasted a small stock yard roughly cobbled, an open cowshed and +alongside a stable with a heavy double door. As a mere matter of form +Harrison Smith determined to take a glance inside but on approaching +the door he found it was fastened by an iron crossbar secured to an +eyelet by a large and well made padlock. The door fitted closely into +its architrave and there was no crack through which a man might see +into the stable. Once more his excitement revived. With a quick +glance over his shoulder to satisfy himself no one was about he +scrambled over the shale wall of the stock yard and passed to the rear +of the building. High up under the gable a few pieces of stone had +been removed for ventilation. A broken horse trough placed against the +wall served him as a ladder and a moment later he was peering through +the gap into the inky darkness of the stable. Nothing could be seen +so, with some difficulty, he struck a match and dropped it into the +space beyond. It went out in the fall but in the brief space while +still alight it revealed the bright parts of a long, low racing car. + +Harrison Smith dropped silently to the ground and his breath came short +and sharp. + +"I was right--I was right," he gasped. "Hispano Suisa by the look of +it--and fast too. Shouldn't have much chance against that outfit." + +Naturally enough he resolved that it would never do to allow +Barraclough to get as far as the stable. On the other hand it would be +a wise precaution to disable the big automobile in case of accident. +But between him and the carrying out of this resolve was an iron bar +and a padlock. To attempt violence against the door would surely +attract attention from the house. And all at once a simple and +effective alternative suggested itself. If he himself were unable to +enter the stable he would take measures to prevent the entrance of any +other person. There was no difficulty about that and when five minutes +later he strolled down the road toward the inn it was with the +comforting reflection that the keyhole of the padlock was entirely +filled up with clay and grit in such a manner that no key could ever +again force its way in. + +He found Dirk already settling himself down for the night and Harrison +Smith smote him boisterously on the back. + +"A red hot scent, my son," said he. "We're on the winning side. +Success, my boy--success." + +Freddie Dirk smiled beatifically through a fog of beer. + +"Goo' ni'," he murmured. + +"It's up with the dawn for you and me--and then success." + +Curious how success reacts even on the best balanced brain and +obliterates the most obvious considerations. Harrison Smith entirely +forgot the second blue dot on the map--the one situated a mile outside +the village where a little footpath converged with the high road. + + + + +CHAPTER 22. + +PLAIN SAILING. + +The steam trawler "Felice" out of Cherbourg was not much to look at, +but none the less she was a lady of virtue and of good intention. Her +engines had lost the sweet voice of youth through long argument and +bitter contest with the stern affronts of life. Where once they had +hummed and purred now they racketed and nagged, but they got through +the work none the less well on that account. The life of a fish wife +hardens the temperament and loosens the tongue and the "Felice" was no +exception to the rule. A plain, strident, powerful old woman bucketing +through calm and trouble with the same reproach for either. The +"Felice" wore rusty black--coarse and patched. She had long ago +forsaken her girlish waist band of royal blue esteeming such fallals +better suited to the children of the fleet. She was a no-nonsense +lady, one of the "up and doing and you be damned" sort, but she boasted +at least one unusual feature, the pride and envy of her fellows. She +was fitted with an aerial, the relic of an age when small vessels went +forth to sweep up big mines very often to be swept up themselves while +so engaged and to mention the fact by wireless in the short interval +between being struck and sinking. + +Anthony Barraclough, wrapped in a suit of borrowed oilskins, leaned +against the deck-house and grinned at the breaking day. Like a fire +opal the sun rose out of the sea, its first rays dissipating the +ghostlike wisps of fog that drifted over the water. The "Felice" was +shouldering her way up channel against the slap of a running tide and +the greeny-black waves, as yet undyed by the morning blue, spumed and +spattered over the bows and wetted her decks with a sharp salt rain. + +"Oh, Lord!" said Barraclough, dashing the spray out of his eyes. "Oh, +Lord! it's good to be alive." + +His hand travelled to an inside breast pocket and stayed there, his +fingers lovingly caressing a case of morocco leather. + +"And it's good to have brought it off. Damned good." His eyes looked +aloft to the sagging wires of the aerial. + +"Wonder if I dare send 'em a message. Better not perhaps. Besides, I +want the fun of springing it on 'em myself. Still, I might give 'em a +hint--something to set 'em thinking." + +He puzzled for a moment then broke into a fresh grin for a dainty +little code had suggested itself. It would be rather amusing to talk +to a group of financiers in the language of flowers. A memory of +Isabel's last words put the idea into his head when she had given him +the dog rose on the evening of his departure. + +"It means hope, Tony," and "Hope it is," he had replied. + +He turned to the little companion ladder and shouted into the dark +beneath. + +"Ohe, Jean Prevost, half a minute." + +And in answer appeared the head and shoulders of a short, thick-set, +twinkly eyed, unshaven man who gruffly demanded "Quoi?" + +Jean Prevost, skipper of the "Felice," was not an "oil painting" to +look at but he was just as reliable as the craft he commanded. He and +Barraclough had had dealings together during the war and they respected +each other. If Jean Prevost were proud of anything it was of his +acquaintance with Barraclough and the knowledge he esteemed himself to +possess of the English tongue. + +"Fizz me off a message on the wireless, there's a good soul." + +"Hah!" + +"Gerard, Regent Street, W. Deliver immediately single dog rose to Lord +Almont Frayne, Park Lane Mansions." + +Jean Prevost nodded and repeated the message verbatim. + +"That's it. Quick as you can." + +"I send 'im now, I blerdy will. We find ze trawlers blerdy soon." + +Jean Prevost showed a regrettable liberality in the use of this popular +adjective which he firmly believed lent vitality and refinement to any +sentence. + +"That'll set them thinking," said Barraclough, as he turned away with a +smile. "Ha, the Eddystone!" + +In direct line with their course rising like a thin twig out of the sea +showed the silhouette of the lighthouse, while between it and the now +faintly discernible mainland tiny dots of brown showed upon the water. + +Your true Englishman is an absurd creation for he cannot return to his +native land even after the shortest absence, he cannot see the faint +familiar landmarks, the nestling villages, the rolling downs, the white +chalk or grey granite of her battlements, without a throb of honest +grateful pride. An imperial singing sounds in his ears--tuned to the +measure of breaking surf--such a song as lovers sing whose single words +are no more than this, "I am yours and you are mine." + +"Tonight," he said. "Tonight I shall see her again." + +There was the appointment at his rooms at 11 o'clock when he would +place the concession in Mr. Torrington's hands. That would be a big +moment. He could imagine Cranbourne's unbridled enthusiasm, Lord +Almont's congratulations in the style of P. G. Wodehouse, and Cassis, +that person of dry ashes and parchment, unbending to the greatness of +the occasion. He, Barraclough, was a made man, every newspaper in the +country would send its reporters to clamour at his doors, every charity +seek his aid when the story and the magnitude of his find became known. +From an ordinary commonplace individual, he would be transformed into a +figure of the age, the observed of all eyes, the target of every +tongue. And yet, the world at his feet, the wealth, the prominence, +the power, the achievement, faded and dwindled into nothing at all +beside one absurd but adorable longing. It was the thought of Isabel +sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, resting her chin upon them, +looking at him with great wide open eyes, smiling at him with moist +trembling lips. + +Over head the aerial fizzed and crackled as his message voyaged forth +into space. The tiny dots between the Eddystone and the land took form +and detail and became the brown sails of a fishing fleet lolling idly +in the bay. + +A hand on his shoulder aroused him from his reverie and he turned to +find Jean Prevost standing beside him. + +Barraclough pointed to the North East. + +"Number fifty-seven," he said. + +The old skipper focussed a pair of binoculars and steadied them against +a stay of the funnel. + +"Zere," he said, and pointed at a solitary sail to the West of its +fellows. "Heem! You see?" + +Barraclough nodded. + +"Diamond's a reliable chap. Always as good as his word. How long +shall we be?" + +"Quarter hour--ten minit." + +Nothing more was said until the "Felice" came alongside the solitary +fishing boat from the bows of which a tall bronzed seaman gave them a +welcoming hail. + +"Good-bye and good luck, Jean Prevost," said Barraclough. "You'll hear +from me in a day or two." + +"And blerdy good luck to you," said the Frenchman gripping the extended +hand. + +Barraclough dropped over the side and landed on the stern sheets of +Number 57. A bell clanked and the "Felice" lurched away ruffing the +glassy water with her screw. + +"Be ye right?" demanded Diamond, drawing up the cable of his anchor. + +"Sure thing," said Barraclough. "Let her go." + +The anchor came out of the water with a plop, the brown sail was +twisted and a little auxiliary oil engine began to snort. + +"Wind's settin' just right," said Diamond, the sheet in one hand and +the tiller in the other. "Ye 'ad a good time?" + +"First rate. Tell you all about it one of these days." + +A friendly puff of wind from the South East filled the canvas and drove +them shoreward at a slant, the water lapping gently against the bows. +It seemed a very little while before they rounded the headland and +entered the narrow funnel of cliffs leading into Polperro. Not a soul +was to be seen at the breakwater, a circumstance Barraclough noted with +satisfaction, although he had no reason to expect opposition. They +lowered sail at the harbour mouth and came alongside a slippery wooden +ladder stapled into the stone wall of the pier. + +"Ye'll take a bite o' breakwus?" + +"Not this journey, Jack. I'm getting off as fast as I can. Here, +you'd better freeze on to these oil skins. No good to me." He +stripped off the coat he was wearing, shook hands, and mounted the +ladder. + +"Thanks awfully. I'll be down this way for my honeymoon. Good-bye." + +With a cheery wave and a smile he started down the jetty at a brisk +walk. + + + + +CHAPTER 23. + +AN ENCOUNTER. + +Anyone who is acquainted with the village of Polperro knows the stone +jetty which runs parallel with the horizon line of the sea. In length +it is perhaps eighty or a hundred yards. At its Western end it turns +at right angles past a terrace of old houses whose foundations are +washed by the tide. Barraclough had almost arrived at this point when +two men turned the corner and came toward him. One was a presentable +enough fellow, but his companion was a person of low class. They were +obviously in the heart of an altercation for the words, "You fill +yourself up with beer like a blasted barrel," preceded their appearance. + +Now there was one thing Barraclough never forgot--a man's voice--and as +the words came to his ears he stopped dead. The moment of mutual +recognition was almost instantaneous, but Barraclough had precisely one +second's start to recover from his surprise. Behind him was the jetty +surrounded by the sea, and the narrow passage in front was blocked by +enemies. + +Harrison Smith wasted a fraction of time crying out the name +"Barraclough!" Dirk fell back a pace fumbling for the pocket in which +he kept his "Mascot." It was a fatal mistake. Running down the length +of the jetty between the two men was a fisherman's net, and as Harrison +Smith sprang toward him pistol in hand, Barraclough ducked, seized the +net and raised it in the air. + +It was the barest fluke that the manoeuvre should have worked so well. +Harrison Smith stumbled heavily, grabbed at Dirk and missed him. +Barraclough's foot just above his waist line destroyed the last of his +equilibrium and over the edge he went into the shallow water below. +Unquestionably the beer was responsible for Dirk's failure to win the +engagement. His quarry was before him in an open position. He should +have used his Mascot and used it hard. It was sheer criminal stupidity +to have looked over the edge at his fallen commander. Maybe the angry +scarlet of Dirk's complexion provoked Barraclough's attack and before +the poor man had recovered from his surprise a heavy lobster pot came +smashing down over his face with agonising force, the splintering +basket-work playing havoc with his features. Then he, too, experienced +the unique sensation of gliding downward through space, a delight +somewhat marred by the rudeness of its finish. + +Barraclough did not stay to behold the result of his offensive, but +picked up his heels and ran. Just beyond the open fish market he saw a +neglected Ford car and hesitated an instant to debate whether or no he +should appropriate it. At the time he did not connect it with the two +men wallowing in harbour waters. Had he done so he would certainly +have driven it over the edge of the quay into the mud. His own car was +waiting less than a quarter of a mile away--an Hispano Suisa built for +speed--and the sense of speed ran through his own veins. As he raced +up the narrow, twisting street the good wives of the village turned on +their doorsteps, open mouthed, to watch him pass. He scarcely bothered +to glance over his shoulder satisfied that he had gained an easy five +minutes' start. Coming abreast of the three cottages he vaulted the +stock yard wall, threw open a gate and made for the stable door +fumbling in his pocket for the key of the padlock. + +And suddenly an oath broke from his lips crisp, concise, and covering. +The first trick had been scored by him but undoubtedly Harrison Smith +had won the second. The blocked up keyhole told its own tale. He knew +the door very well and it would be half an hour's work to break it +down, also he knew the padlock having bought it himself. The Hispano +Suisa would have to be abandoned. + +He did not waste time cursing, but instead leapt the shale wall and +took to the fields. A little footpath lay among the trees at the +meadow end and Anthony Barraclough made for it with all possible +dispatch jumping a brook and forcing his way through a fringe of thorn +and bramble. There had been no rain for some weeks and the going was +dry, a circumstance he noted with satisfaction, for your average +Cornish footpath is as much a waterway as a thoroughfare for +pedestrians. It was half a mile to his destination, a spot where the +path converged with the high road and as he ran, Barraclough covered +his face with his hand to avoid the swinging branches. A gap in the +trees gave a view of the village and as he flashed across it increasing +speed to avoid the risk of being seen he had a momentary glimpse of a +Ford car with two men in it stopping at the gate he had recently opened. + +"How in blazes they found out beats me," he gasped. + +A sickening fear assailed him that his second line of escape might also +have been blocked and, at the thought, he put out every ounce of speed +he possessed. It was better to know the worst at once. The path +widened out into a cart track and through an aisle of trees the white +patch of the high road came into view. + +A casual passer-by would never have noticed the low built pigsty that +butted on to the hedge, its roof and sides being almost completely +masked with brushwood and bramble vine. + +Barraclough could not resist an exclamation of joy as he noted that the +big piles of carelessly thrown kindlings were apparently untouched. He +kicked away great bundles of them with his foot, produced a key and +opened a small solid door. The relief was almost unbearable, but he +did not linger to offer up prayers of thanksgiving. + +The motor bicycle flashed bravely as he dragged it out into the sun, +turned on the petrol and set the controls. He shoved the gear lever +into second, lifted the exhaust and pushed, and the willing little twin +fired its first spluttering salvo as he bumped out of the rutted lane +into the main road. + +Concentration on the single object of getting away had dulled his ears +to other sounds, for normally he could not have failed to hear the +chuff-chuff of the approaching Ford. As he swung into the saddle he +saw it out of the corner of his eye and ducked. The vision of two +men--an excited yell and an oath--they were almost on top of him when +the twin took a healthy dose of the mixture and got away. Another +second and they would have ridden him down. Barraclough swerved to the +left to cut a corner and opened up. Harrison Smith did likewise, +choking his engine with too wide a throttle and losing a dozen yards in +half that number of seconds. + +"Shoot, blast you! Shoot, you blasted fool!" he roared at Dirk. + +Barraclough heard the order and swept over to the right to disturb the +aim as a couple of leaden hornets buzzed angrily past his ear striking +the macadam a hundred yards ahead and whining away into the distance. + +Freddie Dirk's execution with an automatic was below the quality of his +Mascot work. He cursed fluently as the shots flew wide and tried to +steady his aim by resting the Colt on the iron crosspiece of the wind +screen. + +"Take the wheel--take the wheel, damn you," cried Harrison Smith, +snatching at the pistol with his left hand. "You can't shoot that way." + +Somehow they contrived to change places. A sharp rise in the ground +had perceptibly slackened the speed of Barraclough's mount and he +reduced his lead still further by hanging on to the top gear a couple +of seconds too long. The Ford, on the other hand, was beginning to +improve and leapt at the hill eagerly. No more than fifty yards +separated pursued from pursuer. + +Harrison Smith sat on the back of the driving seat and bided his time. +A glance ahead showed him the road winding up interminably at the very +incline at which a Ford car develops its greatest efficiency and goes +sailing past nearly everything else on the road. + +"Got him," he said, "got him cold." + +This comforting reflection awoke in his breast a sporting fancy. After +all it was more fun to shoot a man than to ride him down. + +The little twin in front was labouring bravely at the hill, but its +muffled exhaust was pleading unmistakably for still another change +down. Barraclough knew very well that were he to accept this +invitation he would be lost. The only hope was to keep in second and +pray hard that the engine wouldn't conk out. A glance over his +shoulder revealed the Ford bounding up the hill toward him. Then it +was Harrison Smith fired. Barraclough saw the flash out of the tail of +his eye and simultaneously his motor cycle seemed to leap forward with +a noisy roar. The bullet had struck the exhaust pipe cutting it clear +of the silencer and making him a gift of five miles an hour. A new +life seemed to run through the veins of the machine and the hill +flattened out before him like a level track. As he realised the +charity of Fate, Barraclough lifted a gladsome "Yoicks" and waved his +right arm above his head. Again the pistol cracked and a red hot +knitting needle seemed to pass through the palm of his hand. As he +brought it back to the handle bar he saw a pale blue circle between his +first and second finger bubble into scarlet and black. + +"You scum, you dirty scum," he cried, "but it'll take more than a +bullet through the hand to bring down my flag." + +He jerked the gear lever back into top and shot full bore at the down +grade before him. As the Ford car breasted the top of the hill its +passengers were rewarded by the sight of a tiny speck of dust tearing +along a ribbon of white in the valley below. + + + + +CHAPTER 24. + +RIVAL FACTIONS. + +Everyone agreed it was a difficult morning on the Stock Exchange, +although for that matter a great many mornings during the past three +weeks had been the same. The bottom had fallen out of innumerable +cans. Persons with scarlet or greenish white faces were waving their +hands and calling on the Deity to explain the collapse of cast iron +securities. If there had been a threat of war things could hardly have +been worse. The worst of it was that none of the big sellers seemed +disposed to give their reasons for unloading. Mr. Hilbert Torrington, +when asked why he had sold huge quantities of oil shares, courteously +replied to all and various that he had no observations to make. The +oil market, particularly that controlled by Hugo Van Diest, had slumped +fifteen points in three days and the others had fallen sympathetically. +And now, as though the oil collapse were not enough, appeared Ezra P. +Hipps unloading Estuary Rails at a price that would hardly pay for +printing the scrip. Ten days earlier the Estuary had looked like a +cinch and Nugent Cassis, who had a reputation for sanity, had been +buying it by the yard. Here was stock at nineteen shillings being +offered at fivepence, and no rush to take it up even at that price. +Everyone knew that Hipps was the moving spirit in the Estuary. His +holdings were enormous. + +"In Heaven's name, man, what's the idea?" was shouted at him from every +side. + +"I'm getting out," was the only answer he condescended. + +Nugent Cassis was beginning to lose his nerve as emphasised by the fact +that he was continually winding his watch or pulling at his precise +grey beard. His usual air of calm ill-humour had deserted him and, as +Lord Almont laconically remarked, "Poor old Cassis is flapping in the +wind." + +"Can't understand their motive," he repeated over and over again. "If +they believe they've got Barraclough tucked safely away, what can they +gain by this stock juggling?" + +"They are laying a false scent presumably," said Mr. Torrington. + +"They must be aware that we know about the kidnapping." + +"I imagine so. At any rate Cranbourne intends to put them wise." + +"Then where's the object?" + +"Our friend Frencham Altar has disappointed 'em perhaps, so they turn +their attentions once more to our humble selves." + +"Makes me almost wish we'd left the whole thing alone. Seventy +thousand pounds in three weeks. Appalling! Appalling!" + +"But consider how we shall be requited when Barraclough turns up with +the concession." + +"_If_ he turns up." + +"We shall know at eleven o'clock tonight." + +"That's purely hypothetical." + +"My dear Cassis, the world is made up of hypotheses--dreams that +sometimes come true. What are you doing with your holdings in Estuary?" + +"I'm selling." + +The old man's eyes blazed. + +"On the contrary, my friend. This is a fight and we fight to a finish, +please. By your leave we do not take the count until tomorrow morning." + +"I'm not made of money," Cassis complained. + +"Very well then, if you are determined to sell--sell to me." + +"Are you crazy?" + +"Possibly. Come over here." + +Mr. Torrington took Cassis by the arm and led him to the excited group +surrounding Ezra P. Hipps. The American's head and shoulders appeared +above the crowd. He was offering Estuary Rails at fourpence three +farthings. Catching sight of Nugent Cassis he broke into a grin, shook +his head sadly and asked: + +"Coming to join the party?" + +"We are," replied Mr. Torrington, "in the form of purchasers. I'll buy +at four-three." + +The American frowned. + +"Say, you serious, Mr. Wise Man?" + +"Perfectly." + +"What'll you take?" + +"All you've got." + +The news went round like wild fire and half an hour later the price of +Estuaries was running up like quicksilver dipped in hot water. + +"What in hell do you make of that?" Hipps demanded of his chief. + +Hugo Van Diest shrugged his shoulders. + +"He wass a doughty adversary, dis Mr. Torrington," he replied. "Must +egshpect dis sort of ting." + +"Guess there's more behind it than that. What are they hoping on, +anyway?" + +"Donno--donno." + +But the sudden appearance of Sydney Cranbourne did something to +enlighten them. + +"Forgive my intrusion, gentlemen," he said, "but could you give me a +possible date on which we might expect the return of our mutual friend?" + +Neither Hipps nor Van Diest betrayed the smallest surprise. + +"Our mutual friend, Mister Cranbourne?" + +"I was referring to a gentleman whose initials are A. B." + +"A. B.! Wasn't that the guy who went out to look for a radium field +three weeks ago today?" + +"The same," said Cranbourne sweetly. "But we had reason to believe he +changed his plans and accepted another invitation." + +"You've been dreaming, dear," said Hipps. + +"Perhaps I have, Mr. Hipps. The matter is of no great importance but I +dreamt of the Old Bailey among other things and of three gentlemen, +prominent in financial circles, who were charged with unlawfully +detaining someone against his will and endeavouring to induce him to +confide certain information." + +"And then, I suppose," remarked Hipps, "you woke up and knocked over +your cup of early tea." + +"Why, no," replied Cranbourne. "I sat up in bed and worked out details +for the flotation of the Radium Company in which I have an interest." + +Hipps looked at Van Diest, shook his head and tapped his brow. + +"Sure it's the heat," he said. "There ain't going to be any flotation +that I've heard of." + +"Think not? It would be a pity if you gentlemen gave way to overmuch +expression of optimism. It hardly accords with your actions of the +last few days." + +Van Diest smiled expansively. + +"Ver' distressing dis uneven market." + +"I imagine you must have found it so." + +"Poor Mister Cassis--he was ver' green dis morning." + +"Our dear Cassis is a born actor. Well, gentlemen, I won't keep you +any longer except to offer my sympathy that you have found A. B. so +indifferent a confidant. Good day." + +And with a polite bow he turned and mingled with the crowd. + +"Can't quite get the strength of all that," observed Hipps as he and +Van Diest passed out of the main door, "but one thing sticks out a +mile. We can't hold our prisoner indefinitely. He must be made to +talk right away." + +"Dis evening we make the big effort." + +"And assumin' it fails?" + +"Dat would be a peety--such a peety." + +Hipps stood thinking for a moment. + +"I've half a mind to turn on the girl again. Let her vamp the secret +out of him. We don't progress, you know. Say, you don't think they've +a line on where we've got him hid?" + +Van Diest waved away the suggestion. + +"No, no, no. S'all right. S'arranged too well." + +"Then I'll trot up West and buy Auriole a lunch. What time tonight?" + +"At nine o'clock." + +"I'll be along." + +He jumped into a taxi, drove round and collected Auriole and carried +her off to the Carlton Hotel. She seemed tired and lacklustre, a +circumstance he noted with some small annoyance. + +"See here, kid," he said. "We've a big set piece scheduled for tonight +and you're a participant." + +"I am." + +"Sure. Our friend has proved a disappointment in the talking line." + +For a moment a flash of enthusiasm burned in her eyes. + +"The persecution has failed then?" + +"It's early to say so but we've a notion it 'ud do no harm to +accelerate a trifle." + +"You'd hardly dare torture him more than you've done already." + +"We thought of trying out one or two new effects but supposing they +fail then it's up to you to take a hand." + +"No," said Auriole, "no. You found me a failure before--let's leave it +at that. My part's ended." + +"Haven't you kind o' forgotten something?" + +"What?" + +"My offer to you was made providing we pull off this deal. Failing +that it's cancelled." + +Auriole's expression, seemed to go very flat indeed. There was a look +of disgust in her eyes. + +"What do you want?" + +"Maybe we shall call on you for the 'whisper and I shall hear' act. +It'd make a nice variety for Anthony after the shouting." + +"You want me to make love to him?" + +"Sure. And I'll try and govern my jealousy for a short stretch." + +She was silent for a longish while, then she nodded. + +"But only as a last resort," she insisted. + +"That's a bet. Me and Van'll be trundling along in the Rolls about +ninish--care to join us?" + +"No, I'll use the two seater." + +"Back your fancy. But see here--no back sliding, mind. A hell of a +lot hangs on his being made to talk--a hell of a lot," he repeated +seriously. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Never do for a fine chap like him to die young." + +"Die? You wouldn't dare." + +"It's certain sure we wouldn't dare turn him out in the world again +after what's happened." + +"Do you mean you'd----" + +"Think it over." + +And she thought it over while Ezra P. Hipps addressed himself to a +liberal helping of saddle of mutton smeared with great dollops of red +currant jelly that looked to her like blood. + + + + +CHAPTER 25. + +MR. BOLT DROPS IN. + +An undercurrent of suppressed excitement pulsed through Mrs. +Barraclough's household on the day of the seventeenth. You could feel +it throbbing like the beat of a distant drum. Voices sounded +different, eyes shone strangely, feet touched the ground as though it +lacked solidity. A sense of electricity was in the air, like the +unnatural calm that is herald to a storm. Mrs. Barraclough herself was +the one person outwardly unaffected by the general mood and set about +her daily duties as though nothing were happening. She never even +mentioned Anthony's name but instead freely discussed the imminent +confinement of Mrs. Brassbound, the wife of the village policeman. She +loved babies and it struck her as a happy omen that the little arrival +was expected on the very day that should mark her son's return from +excursions and alarums. + +Isabel rang her up during the morning--a trunk call--with the brave +intention of expressing firm and unshakable optimism but the effort was +pathetically tremulous and finally petered out with inarticulate sobs +and chokings. + +"Oh, dear, dear! That will never do," said Mrs. Barraclough, mastering +a powerful desire to kiss the microphone into which she spoke. "You +mustn't even imagine anything could go wrong. Now, what are you going +to do this afternoon?" + +Sniff! "I donno--nuffin'," came over the wire moistly. + +"Then I'll tell you. You'll go round to your dressmaker's and try on +your wedding dress and pretend you're walking down the aisle with your +hand on Tony's arm." + +"I c-couldn't--b-but it's a l-lovely idea." + +"Of course you could and you've got to. After all, it's what you'll be +doing in real earnest next Thursday." + +Mrs. Barraclough could almost swear to having seen the smile that dried +up those tears that fell a hundred and fifty miles away. + +"I'll t-try," said a tiny voice. "You are a d-darling." And later in +the afternoon the telephone bell rang again sad the same voice, with a +brave ring to it, announced "I've got it on." + +After that Mrs. Barraclough was perfectly sure everything would be all +right and walked down to the village to enquire about the prospective +mother. + +Shortly after she had gone Jane, who was entering the drawing room with +a silver tea tray, had a real adventure. On pushing open the door she +had an impression of two black coat tails disappearing through the +French windows into the garden. With perilous despatch she set down +the tray and rushed out to the gravel path, calling loudly to Flora. +Flora, arrayed in a greasy blue overall, came hurrying from the garage +where she had been spending the day tinkering with the car. + +"Yes, what is it?" she cried. + +Jane was pointing down a grove of Dorothy Perkins at the end of which a +stout figure in black was retreating. + +"That old clergyman!" + +"What about him?" + +"I'll swear he was in this room when I brought in the tea." + +"You sure?" + +"Positive. I saw him pass the house two or three times this morning +and yesterday too." + +"Half a mo," said Flora and hurried over to the writing table. "I say, +haven't these papers been moved?" + +"Yes, they have. My eye! it's exciting. What do you make of it?" + +"Something fishy." + +"Do you think--do you possibly think it's anything to do with Mr. +Anthony?" + +Jane's eyes sparkled like jewels at the very thought of anything so +adorable. + +"I bet it has," said Flora. "What else could it be?" + +"Might be just a rotten burglary." + +"Chuck it," said Flora. "Don't spoil a decent show." + +"I don't want to. But didn't she tell you Mr. Anthony had spoofed the +crowd that were against him?" + +"Um! But they were a downey lot and p'raps after all they didn't buy +the spoof." + +"Wouldn't it be terrific," exclaimed Jane, clasping her hands, +"wouldn't it be terrific if there was a dust up down here and we were +in it." + +"Shut up," Flora implored, "it's a jolly sight too good to be true. +Better light the spirit lamp, the old lady'll be in to tea directly." + +The words were scarcely spoken before a shadow was cast across the +floor and Mrs. Barraclough appeared at the window carrying a basket of +roses. + +"Conybeare," she said, addressing the old Devonian gardener who was +trimming the borders a few yards away. "Conybeare, I am going down to +Mrs. Brassbound later in the evening. I want you to cut me a nice +bunch of grapes and some vegetables--nice ones." + +The old fellow touched his cap and moved away. Mrs. Barraclough +entered smilingly. + +"And I shall want the car, Flora." + +"It's all ready. I'll bring it round, madam." + +"There's no hurry. Aren't these roses delicious?" She buried her face +in the orgy of pink, crimson and yellowy-white blooms. "Give me that +bowl, my dear." + +And while she took a few from the basket and arranged them in the big +silver bowl she continued pleasantly-- + +"I always wish I were a girl again when I pick roses. There's a +sentiment about them--and perhaps a danger--a nice sort of danger. You +know, it's very sad to reach an age at which danger no longer exists. +By the way, a very singular thing happened to me on my way to the +village. I was followed, Flora!" + +"Followed! But who'd dare?" said Jane. + +Mrs. Barraclough pouted pathetically. + +"Please don't say that," she begged. "It makes one feel so old. After +all, there is no law to prevent one being followed unless it is the law +of selection." + +"Who followed you?" asked Flora. + +"A man," replied Mrs. Barraclough with ceremony. "A very respectable +man. He revived a sense of youth in me by wearing elastic sided boots." + +"What was his face like?" + +"In the circumstances, Jane, I kept my eyes discreetly downcast, but I +had a fleeting impression of clerical broadcloth." + +"That man!" exclaimed Flora with sudden emphasis. + +"My dear, it is most unbecoming to speak disparagingly of a member of +the clergy. As a girl the word curate inspired in me feelings of +respect and sentiment." + +"There's not much to get sentimental over in that old beast," said +Jane. "He's been hanging around since yesterday evening and what's +more, I'll bet he's up to no good." + +Mrs. Barraclough had her own opinion of the mysterious parson who had +addressed her in the lane but she preferred to arrive at the opinions +of others by her own method. + +"I am sure it is very wrong to bet on clergymen as though they were +race horses," she replied. + +"But honestly," said Flora, "I believe he is a bad hat." + +"Well, well, well," Mrs. Barraclough acceded, "if he isn't he certainly +wore one--a black and white straw of a shape and pattern which I +believe you moderns call 'boaters.' There, the kettle is boiling. Run +along and leave me to myself." + +After the two girls had departed Mrs. Barraclough stroked the end of +her chin with a sensitive forefinger and murmured: + +"I wonder what that man is here for? It's queer--I wish I didn't +think--Oh, well!" + +She leaned forward and poured herself out a cup of tea. A discreet +cough caused her to start and rise quickly. + +In the centre of the room stood Mr. Alfred Bolt, looking for all the +world like the comic paper idea of a parson. A huge, black frock coat +hung in festoons over his globular form, his scarlet face was wreathed +in smiles. In his hand he carried a black and white straw hat and a +pair of black kid gloves. He placed the hat in the middle of his waist +line and bowed apologetically. + +"I beg your pardon--I do indeed beg your pardon." + +Mrs. Barraclough was equal to the occasion and presented a perfect +example of mid-Victorian austerity. + +"May I ask, sir, why you enter my house other than by the front door? +And also what persuaded you to address me in the lane this afternoon?" + +"My dear lady," protested Mr. Bolt with a world of unction. "I come +from a part of the country where formality is unknown and where a +minister--a minister of the gospel--enters into the hearts and the +homes of men and of women by the shortest possible route." + +"Fiddlesticks," said Mrs. Barraclough uncompromisingly. + +At which her visitor expressed himself as greatly shocked and turned +his eyes heavenward. + +"I remark with sorrow," he observed, "that you are not a true believer. +Your faith is not of the simple kind." + +He could hardly have chosen an unhappier argument. Mrs. Barraclough's +devotion was a byword in the parish. To be treated thus by a totally +unknown clergyman was not to be tolerated. Her doubt as to the probity +of this person fostered by Jane and Flora took definite shape. She +decided to interrogate and, if necessary, expose him without further +preamble. + +"It is customary for visitors to be announced," she said. "I would be +obliged if you would tell me your name." + +Mr. Bolt sighed and seated himself heavily on the sofa, his little +pig-like eyes roving round the room. + +"My name, madam, is the Reverend Prometheus Bolt." + +"And why have you called upon me?" + +Mr. Bolt faltered. He did not like this lady who pointed every +question. + +"An act of civility, my dear madam. I am staying a few days in this +enchanting vicinity and hearing of your benevolent character was +persuaded to pay my best respects." + +"My benevolent character! You are collecting for a charity? You are +proposing to hand me a tract?" + +"No, indeed no. My visit is connected with this world and not the +next. I was informed in the village that this house was to let." + +"You were misinformed." + +"Furnished--to let furnished. Yes." This was a happy thought and he +followed it up closely. "I should consider myself indeed fortunate if +you, dear lady, would conduct me round its various apartments." + +"The house is not to let under any consideration." + +"Dear, dear! How disappointing." + +"So if that is your only object in calling----" Her hand went out +toward the bell. + +"I pray you will allow me to remain a moment and recover my breath. +The heat of the walk, you know. I am not as young as I was." + +"No one is," replied Mrs. Barraclough uncompromisingly. + +"How very, very true," said Mr. Bolt with outward benevolence but +inwardly with a powerful inclination toward violence. "Yes, very true, +although it is bitter indeed to be taunted with lack of youth. In the +words of the Gospel 'do unto others as you would be done by.'" + +"In what particular part of the Gospel does that phrase occur?" +demanded Mrs. Barraclough shrewdly. + +But Alfred Bolt was not a man to be caught out in the first over. + +"I can only recommend you a closer attention to the Book," he replied. +"Search its pages yourself, dear lady, and treasures of gladness shall +be yours." + +It was a nimble evasion and he could not resist a smile of +self-satisfaction, but to avoid further interrogation on Biblical +derivations he hastened to lead the conversation into safer alleys and +ones more relative to the object of his visit. + +"I am informed in the village that you are the fortunate possessor of a +son." + +"I have a son," Mrs. Barraclough admitted. + +"A priceless gift, dear lady. I should like to shake him by the hand." + +"Why?" + +Really this woman was too trying and the directness of the question for +an instant deprived Mr. Bolt of his sense of character. Before he had +time to collect his thoughts he had rapped out the reply: + +"Needn't jump down a man's throat like that." + +His effort to recover and mask this piece of startled irritability with +a vague platitude did not deceive his audience in the smallest degree. +Doubt became conviction in Mrs. Barraclough's mind. She did not know +in what way this man was connected with her son's affairs but none the +less she was certain he represented a positive barrier between Anthony +and success. To denounce him as a spy might, however, do more harm +than good, accordingly she took up the bell and rang it, with the words: + +"My son is away and has been away for several weeks, nor is there any +likelihood you will meet him when ultimately he returns." Then to the +glowering Jane who had answered the summons of the bell; "Kindly show +this gentleman out." + +"Pray do not disturb yourself," said Mr. Bolt with dignity. "I can +find my own way." + +And with astonishing speed for a man of his build he seized the handle +and threw open the door of Mrs. Barraclough's bedroom. The action was +deliberate since he desired to find out who might possibly be concealed +in the inner room and its advantages were immeasurable for at the very +moment his back was turned Anthony Barraclough, dusty and spent, +stumbled in through the French window. + +Jane gave a short, stifled squeak and pointed and he was out again and +ducking behind a rose bush before Bolt had time to turn and apologise +for his mistake. + +"Show this gentleman through the gate and down the road," said Mrs. +Barraclough in a voice that did not betray her excitement by a single +tremor. + +"I thank you for your hospitality, dear lady," said the Reverend +Prometheus, "and I trust I may have the pleasure of bettering our +acquaintance." + +As he bowed himself out he discreetly dropped his gloves behind a +cushion on the sofa. + +"This way, please," said Jane. "This way." + + + + +CHAPTER 26. + +AMONG ALLIES. + +The door had scarcely closed upon the retreating masquerader when once +again Barraclough slipped into the room. His clothes were white with +dust, his eyes hollow and deep set, but around the corners of his mouth +was just such a smile as any mother might hope to see. + +"Bless your sweet bobbed head," he whispered, throwing an arm +affectionately about her shoulders. "Though why in blazes you +entertain well known crooks to tea gets me wondering." + +"Oh, my dear, dear boy, wherever did you come from?" she cried, patting +him all over to convince herself of his reality. + +"Down the chimney, mother, like Santa Claus." + +"But why and without a word?" + +"Hadn't a notion I was coming," he replied dropping on to the sofa and +spreading out his legs. "I was whacked to the wide and had to stop +somewhere and get me breath." + +The door was flung open and Flora and Jane burst in. + +"I say, that was a near shave," gasped the latter. "Where did you +spring from?" + +"Somewhere t'other side of Plymouth. Keep your eye on the window, +Flora. Don't want that old blackbird to get a view of me. Thanks! +Fine. See him down the road, Jane?" + +"You bet." + +"It's damn bad luck him being here at all. When did he first show up?" + +"Last night." + +"There's been a mess-up somewhere and I was looking for a clean run +home." + +"Home, dear?" + +"Um! Back to London. How's mother's old car going, Flora?" + +"Tiptop." + +"Good, I shall need it. I say, I apologise for not saying how-de-do +but things have been moving today. Everyone feeling good? Fine. +Lord, I'm tired." And he passed a hand tied with a bloodstained +handkerchief across his brow. + +Mrs. Barraclough was first to notice it and called for an explanation. + +"Oh, that's all right--a scratch--bled a bit. Nothing to bother about. +Flora, if you leave that window unguarded you're sacked. Jane, if you +love me, a large and a small." + +"But what is it all about?" Mrs. Barraclough implored after shaking her +head at the thought of whiskey. + +"Money, dear--money and a bit of paper I carry in this note case that +is earnestly coveted by quite a number of people it doesn't belong to. +When I asked for a large and a small, Jane, I was endeavouring to +convey the idea that I was thirsty." + +But Jane was reluctant to go and only consented to do so on a promise +that no secrets should be revealed in her absence. + +"Be a darling, mother dear, and fill me a pipe." + +It was characteristic of Anthony Barraclough that the entire household +revolved round him from the instant of appearance. + +"Then there is something wrong with your hand," said the old lady +filling the pipe and putting it in the corner of his mouth, while Flora +risked a month's notice by rushing forward with a lighted match. "I +shall tie it up while you have your smoke." + +Anthony's protests were unavailing when the ministering angel mood +descended upon his mother. At such a time she was inexorable. She +called upon Flora to fill the slop basin with warm water and provide +scissors (always so elusive when needed) and naturally Flora, who was +entirely absorbed in the adventurous side of the proceedings, could +only find the rose cutters which were entirely useless. + +"It's a bullet wound," Mrs. Barraclough declared. "You can't deceive +me--it's a bullet wound." + +"Well, p'raps it is, mother, but since it was never intended for my +hand we needn't bother about it." + +"You must have it bandaged and go to bed straight away." + +"Bed!" He threw back his head and laughed. "It's likely." + +"And you'll want a sling." + +"Not for this David, mother. A sling would be a fat lot of use against +the Goliaths I'm dealing with. Mother, I'm within a hundred and fifty +miles of being one of the richest men in the world and, as far as I can +see, they'll be the toughest miles I've ever covered in my life." + +And suddenly from the window came Flora's cry of "Look out!" + +Anthony did not waste time looking out but instead flung himself behind +the upright piano which stood out from the wall. Nor was he a moment +too soon for the massive form of Mr. Bolt was framed in the French +windows. Mrs. Barraclough took three steps toward him as also did +Flora, thus preventing a definite intrusion into the room. + +"I beg your pardon--I do indeed beg your pardon," said Bolt in tones as +rich as the fat of pork, "but I fancy--I rather imagine--I--yes, to be +sure, left a pair of gloves on your sofa." + +"If you had rung the bell, sir, your property would have been restored +to you in the usual manner. I cannot----" + +She stopped as her uninvited guest was sniffing the air suspiciously. + +"Mrs. Barraclough," he observed, shaking his head sadly, "I fear I have +caught you smoking." + +Behind the piano Anthony was feverishly extinguishing his pipe with the +ball of his thumb. + +"I smoke all day," replied Mrs. Barraclough. + +The door opened and Jane came in with an abnormally large whiskey and +soda which she nearly dropped at the sight of the visitor. + +"Oh! Mrs. Barraclough!" said Bolt, pointing an accusing finger. + +But the old lady was equal to the moment. + +"And drink," she said, seizing the glass and swallowing an immense gulp +that almost paralysed the muscles of her throat. + +Mr. Bolt smiled cynically and took his gloves from Flora's outstretched +hand. + +"Gloves are so expensive nowadays, are they not?" he asked. + +"To be frank, Mr. Bolt, I do not wish to discuss with you either gloves +or Christianity," said Mrs. Barraclough. "I would be glad if you would +kindly leave by the way you came." + +"I was about to do so, madam, after first thanking you for your +hospitality." + +Maybe it was appreciation of his mother's inflexible bearing that +caused Anthony to relax, but whatever the reason the result was +disastrous. There was a small table alongside of where he stood hidden +upon which was a vase of sweet peas. Anthony's elbow struck and +overset it. There was a splash of water and a tinkle of glass. + +The three women held their breath and Mr. Bolt's eyebrows went up and +down twice very quickly. Then he smiled. + +"Once again allow me to thank you for your hospitality," he said. + +"Show this person out," said Mrs. Barraclough. + +And under the escort of Jane and Flora he was peremptorily bustled off +the premises. + +"H'm," said Anthony, coming out from behind the piano. "That was a +pity." + +Mrs. Barraclough was almost in tears. + +"Do you think he realised you were hidden there?" + +"Vases don't tumble over by themselves, mother dear, and our friend is +not a fool." He tapped his teeth with a thumb nail reflectively. +"Yes--yes--yes. We must curtail his activities. Can't have the old +viper sending messages. Settle down at the telephone, best of mothers." + +"I do wish you would not address me as though I were a sitting hen," +said Mrs. Barraclough, drawing up a chair to the writing table. + +"The telephone, mother, and ask for the police station." + +"But the policeman is sure to be out." + +"Then talk to his missus." + +"That would be impossible, dear, Mrs. Brassbound----" + +But Anthony did not listen to the objection. + +"Tell old Brassbound," said he, "to run in friend Skypilot if he +gravitates near the post office." + +Mrs. Barraclough picked up the receiver and asked for the police +station and while waiting to be connected remarked weakly: + +"There is no law to prevent people sending telegrams, dear." + +"Then we must make a few to fit the occasion." + +"Is that you, Mr. Brassbound?" said the old lady in answer to a voice +on the wire. "It's Mrs. Barraclough speaking. I wonder if you would +very kindly arrest a clergyman for me." + +"Put a bit more sting in it, mother--ginger." + +"Ginger," repeated Mrs. Barraclough into the mouthpiece. "No, no, I +didn't mean that. He's grey and elderly." + +"Say he pinched something," Anthony prompted. + +Mrs. Barraclough nodded. + +"I rather fear he has appropriated a cream jug. Yes. I thought +perhaps he might send it off from the post office. Thank you. And how +is your wife progressing? Yes, of course she is. Yes, I am coming +down to see her this evening if I can get away. Goodbye." + +"What's wrong with the policeman's missus?" demanded Anthony. + +"As you're not a married man, Tony, I shall refuse to tell you," said +Mrs. Barraclough in the manner of Queen Victoria. + +"Going to see her?" + +"I was going to take her this basket of roses and some vegetables, but +as----" + +"No, no, you take 'em and I'll go down to the village with you in the +car and take it on. You won't mind walking home across the fields." + +"Anthony," said Mrs. Barraclough seriously. "Is it very real danger +you're in?" + +"Pretty solid but don't you fret, I'm equal to it." + +Flora and Jane came in from the garden. + +"We've seen him down the road," they announced. + +"Good. Now, look here, everyone, I've wasted a deuce of a lot of time +when I ought to have been on the way. Here's the position of affairs. +Flora, you're going to drive me to London." + +"Right," said Flora with sparkling eyes. + +"Jane! Still got that old service revolver I gave you?" + +"Um." + +"Keep it handy. Likely enough there'll be a couple of visitors here +before long and you've got to detain 'em somehow." + +"I'll keep 'em till they grow roots," said Jane stoutly. + +"It's a damn shame, dragging you into all this, but that bullet did me +in as a driver. It's no joke shoving a motor bike along with a bullet +through your hand." + +"But how did you get the wound, dear?" + +As hurriedly as possible he outlined the day's happenings from the +moment of landing at Polperro. + +"Who are these men?" Flora demanded. + +"Couple of spies belonging to a crowd that tried to prevent me leaving +London three weeks ago." + +"But what do they want?" + +Anthony held up the morocco letter case and restored it to his pocket. + +"Just this. I've given 'em a pretty good lead all day--played hare and +hounds all over Dartmoor best part of the morning but somehow I don't +believe I've shaken 'em off." + +"Where did you leave the bike?" + +"Couple of miles back on the main road. Shoved her in a thicket. +Front tyre burst and that settled it. There's a bare hope they may +have been kidded into believing I'd gone straight on but it's slender +enough. Comberstone knows I have a home hereabouts and they're pretty +certain to have watched my tracks on the road. Mother's old bus is +going well you say?" + +"I can whack her up to about a thirty average," said Flora. + +"Thirty, and we've a hundred and fifty to go. Yes, yes--ought to be in +Town by eleven." + +"Easy." + +"Then I'll just swallow a snack of grub and push off straight away. +Get your engine started." + +"There's a lovely pie in the larder, dear," said Mrs. Barraclough. +"Just the sort you like best. Jane! My motor cloak and bonnet." + +She took Anthony's hand and they hurried kitchenward together. + +Flora and Jane looked at one another, their eyes adance with excitement. + +"Oh, isn't this gorgeous," said Jane. + +"Simply topping," echoed Flora. + +"You lucky beast to be going up with him." + +"I like that, when you've got a shooting programme." + +"Oh, well, I suppose the honours are divided. Good luck." + +"Same to you." + +They parted with a wave of the hand, Jane following her mistress and +Flora into the garden at a run. But she had scarcely reached the path +when two men came round the corner of the house and bore down upon her. + +Harrison Smith was too good a strategist to announce his arrival by +driving up to the front door. He had left the Ford at the end of the +lane and entered the grounds by way of the kitchen garden. At the +sight of Flora he bowed very politely, greeting her with a charming +smile and an allusion to the clemency of the evening. It is possible +these social amenities might have carried some weight but for the +appearance of Freddie Dirk, whose heavy jowl, grimed with dust and +perspiration, was not consistent with the idea of an afternoon caller. +Flora fell back a pace into the room, wondering fearfully what course +she should pursue. + +"Don't be frightened, my girl, don't be frightened," Harrison Smith +agreeably beseeched. + +"Who are you? I don't know you," said Flora. + +"We're friends of your master's, of course." + +"That's it," said Dirk, huskily. "Pals of 'is, see!" + +The tone was hardly convincing. + +"My master is away, and has been away for some weeks." + +"Yes, yes, yes, to be sure. But he's come back." + +"No," said Flora. + +"Look 'ere, girl,"--Dirk's fat, short-fingered paw fell on her +shoulders--"we ain't soft--do you get me? We knows what we're torkin' +abaht. Mister Barraclough is 'ere and the sooner----" + +"Tut, tut, tut," Harrison Smith interrupted. "Don't talk like that, +Dirk--you're scaring the girl. Now listen to me. Your Master has +enemies, we're his friends. It is of the utmost importance we should +see him at once." He moved away and opened the door of Mrs. +Barraclough's bedroom. "As a matter of fact his life depends upon it." + +"Yus--'is life," Dirk echoed. + +"I tell you my master is not here." + +"Isn't 'e--isn't 'e." Dirk's two hands fastened on Flora's wrist and +twisted the flesh in contrary directions, a domestic form of torture +known to the initiated as the Burning Bracelet. + +"Let go, you brute--let go," she cried, and with her free hand caught +him a full swinging slap across the face. + +What particular line Dirk's resentment would have taken is unknown, for +Harrison Smith came quickly between them with a muttered order and at +the same time the door opened and Jane ran in. It speaks well for her +courage that she did not cry out or betray alarm. + +"Jane," gasped Flora very quickly, "these men want to see master--I've +told them he isn't here----" + +"Quiet you," said Dirk threateningly, while Harrison Smith descended on +the new arrival under a coverlet of smiles. + +"Come along, my dear," he said, "you're a sensible looking girl. Now +where's Mister Barraclough, eh?" + +For a second Jane seemed lost in consideration, then shook her head +stupidly and replied in a rich brogue: + +"Maister Bar'clough--doan't know 'un--never clapt eyes on 'un. 'Tis +on'y larst week I took sarvice 'ere t'oblige." + +"Have you seen anyone strange about the premises today?" + +"Noa." + +"A man--tall--broad shouldered--wearing a blue suit and cap." + +"Oh 'im," said Jane, her face lighting up with a semblance of +intelligence. "I did see some un 'bout 'arf an hour ago, 'twas." + +"Yes, yes. Go on." + +"Come out of tool shed at garden end and kept low by the 'edge." + +"Did he enter the house?" + +"Noa. 'E lit off down the road as fast as 'e cud make." + +"Damn! We've missed 'im," roared Dirk. + +"Which direction?" + +"Away from village 'twas." + +Dirk was tugging at Harrison Smith's sleeve and dragging him toward the +French windows. + +"No, no," cried Smith, "the front way--it's quicker." + +The two turned at the exact second Barraclough, entirely oblivious of +their presence, walked into the room. The light flashed dully on the +barrel of Harrison Smith's automatic. + +"Put 'em up," he said, "put 'em up"--and as the order was obeyed--"Well +met indeed, Barraclough, well met indeed." + + + + +CHAPTER 27. + +A KNOTTED KERCHIEF. + +The timing and arrangement of the situation was flawless. Barraclough +with his hands upheld, Harrison Smith masking the persuasive automatic +from the view of the two girls and Dirk's fingers travelling caressingly +toward the pocket in which his mascot reposed. It was hugely dramatic. +Flora and Jane, robbed for the moment of the power of speech and action, +clung to one another on the far side of the room, their gaze riveted on +their hero, who, in this moment of crisis, was whistling a bar of ragtime +and accepting defeat with smiling eyes. + +Harrison Smith's left hand ran professionally over the contours of +Barraclough's coat to satisfy himself that there was no concealed weapon. + +"Most opportune," he remarked, "and we had almost despaired of seeing +you." Then in a lower voice--"All right, but no games." + +"Thank you," said Barraclough, and lowering his arms he walked slowly to +the writing table. + +"And now you two nice little girls," said Harrison Smith, rubbing his +hands together, "cut along and pick flowers. Much too nice an evening to +be spending your time indoors. Off you go." + +There was certainly a better chance of getting help if they could escape. +Nothing was to be gained by staying. As they passed the table by which +Barraclough was standing he whipped an envelope from his pocket and +thrust it in Flora's hand with the words: + +"Post that for me--quick." + +Flora seized the envelope and made a dash for the window but hardly +covered half the distance before Dirk and Smith closed in upon her, +fighting for possession of the paper. It was given to Jane to translate +the actual meaning of this extraordinary performance and she alone saw +Barraclough take the note case swiftly from his pocket and bury it under +the foliage in the basket of roses. The others were too busily engaged +to attend to such a trifle. + +"Let them have it, Flora," said Barraclough, sweetly. "They are friends +of mine. Do as I tell you." + +"You girls get out," gasped Harrison Smith, coming down breathlessly with +the envelope, and after Flora and Jane had escaped into the garden, +"Cornered, Mr. Barraclough, and we've got the goods." + +Anthony was smiling. + +"Hadn't you better make sure?" said he. + +The envelope was ripped open and a letter withdrawn. + +"What's this?" + +"I don't know--something my mother wrote. Oh, I wasn't born yesterday +and if you think I carry the concession--search me." And to emphasise +the uselessness of such a course he pulled out the lining of his inner +pocket. + +Dirk and Smith closed in threateningly. + +"We mean to have that paper," they said in a single voice. + +"Haven't you chosen rather a public place to get it?" he answered +steadily. "Oh, I realise I'm cornered, but is this the place for the +kill? After all, I'm not much good to you without that paper." + +"Where 'ave you put it?" hissed Dirk, edging closer. "Where 'ave you put +it, eh?" + +"Aha, my friend, that's the point. But it won't be cleared up by +breathing hops in my face." + +The barrel of Harrison Smith's pistol pressed unpleasantly into his short +ribs and Dirk's mascot "whump-whumphed" in the air above his head. + +"A little persuasion." + +"No, not even with a little persuasion." His voice rang high on a note +of challenge. "If you want that paper, you'll have to accept my terms +and my terms are stiff." + +"I can tell you 'oo'll be stiff ternight if he don't----" + +The sentence was never finished, for from the hall outside came the sound +of Mrs. Barraclough's voice: + +"I may be a little late for dinner, Cook, so don't put on the potatoes +till the half hour." + +"My mother," said Anthony, warningly. + +With a curse and a growl Smith and Dirk backed away, pocketing their +weapons, as Mrs. Barraclough in a long motor cloak and veil came into the +room. + +For a second she stood in the doorway, her eyes travelling from her son +to the two men and back again. From the astonishment on her features +Anthony read plainly enough that Flora and Jane had failed to find and +advise her of the danger. + +At this perilous stage a false move might mean the loss of everything. +The one hope was to preserve a seeming of normality and at the same time +convey a message as to the real significance of the situation. And like +a flash came into his head a memory of boyhood scrapes and a mother who +had never failed him in the hour of need. He whipped out his white +handkerchief and with a single hand, an old conjuring trick, threw a knot +in the centre and dangled it before Mrs. Barraclough's eyes. No message +by wire or wireless ever reached its destination in quicker time than +that old S. O. S. of school boy fame. He saw her tap out the "received" +signal with a forefinger on the front of her cloak, then turned with a +wave of the handkerchief to introduce the visitors. + +"Mother dear, these are two friends of mine, Sergeant Hammersmith and Mr. +Cappell." They were the first names to come into his head. He +added--"This is my mother, gentlemen, and I am sure you will be grieved +to hear she has lately suffered from very indifferent health." + +To give herself a moment for reflection, Mrs. Barraclough removed her +veiled motor bonnet and put it on the couch. Then she turned and +descended upon Dirk with outstretched hands and a high pitched falsetto +that fairly rang with welcome. + +"Oh, my dear Sergeant Hammer, this is indeed a pleasure. How very kind +of you to drop in. So few people drop in now-a-days; dropping in seems +to have quite dropped out and I do so dearly love seeing anyone from +Town. Of course we are so old world and out of the way down here that we +never see anyone--no one at all--nobody and to hear news direct from----" +She broke off abruptly, fixed her glasses and fell back in an attitude of +amazed rapture--"Anthony, dear, do look. Isn't Sergeant Picklesnip +exactly like the vicar--the old one, not the present incumbent, he's too +high for me. I do hope----" She descended upon Harrison Smith and wrung +him warmly by both hands--"I do hope you agree with me that the Roman +influence is most dangerous." And before he had time to reply--"Ah, but +I wish you had known Anthony when he was a little boy and wore sailor +suits--white on Sundays with a cord and a whistle round his neck. My +poor husband could not endure the whistle, so he took the pea out of it +and then it only made an airy noise instead of a blast." + +"Mother dear," Anthony interposed, "aren't you going down to the village?" + +A suggestion to which Harrison Smith proved a ready seconder. + +"Don't let us detain you, Madam," he beseeched. + +"No, I won't, I won't. Besides, I mustn't be late. As Mr. Gladstone +said in '84--and oh, what a hot summer that was--he said--'Detention is +the mother of time.'" + +At which Freddie Dirk, who knew something of both detention and time, +shivered uncomfortably and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. + +"Never be late," continued Mrs. Barraclough, rallying her resources for a +new oration, "although I was late once for a flower show at +Weston-super-Mare--or was it a funeral, Anthony? At any rate, there were +a lot of flowers there, so it may have been a wedding or a garden party. +But really, I mustn't stay a moment longer. I've got to see a Mrs. +Brassbound--poor dear, she's--Anthony, go away, you mustn't listen--I'm +going to treat you as friends--there's going to be a baby--she's the wife +of our village constable, you know--such a nice man--but as I've always +said, Policemen will be Policemen." + +"Yes, yes, yes," said Harrison Smith, whose patience was running out, +"very interesting. I have a friend staying at the hotel. I wonder if I +might use your telephone." + +Mrs. Barraclough caught the warning in Anthony's eyes as she gave her +consent. Also she caught a glint of light from the rose cutters that lay +on the sofa. + +What more natural than for a hostess to be seated while her guest made +his call and what more fortunate than the fact that the telephone wire +passed over the arm of the sofa on its way to the insulator in the floor. +The snip of the scissors as she cut the wire was quite inaudible because +of the good lady's flow of remarks on the subject of telephony. + +"They may keep you waiting," she said and kept on chattering until +Harrison Smith hung up the receiver in despair of being connected with +his ally Bolt. + +"And now, Madam, I feel sure we have kept you much too long," he said. + +"You'd better be off, Mother," said Anthony, who although vaguely aware +that she was endeavouring to create an atmosphere of vacuity, could not +fathom the advantage to be gained. + +"I'm going, dear, I'm going. I was thinking, that's all." + +"Thinking," came from Dirk. + +"Wondering if you two gentlemen could eat mutton. My dear brother who +died in '93 had very strong views about mutton, especially when it was +cold. He said----" + +But the prospect of hearing what he said so shook the good manners of her +visitors that they almost breasted her toward the bedroom door. They +would probably have succeeded in their object had not Flora hurried in +from the garden. + +"The doctor is with her now," said Flora. "I've got the car ready." + +Mrs. Barraclough became almost hysterical. There was no limit to the +instructions she showered upon the hapless Flora. Were the vegetables in +the car? Had she been sent for? Was Mr. Brassbound there, and finally, +had Flora put the "you know" into the basket? + +"The 'you know,'" said Flora, hazily. + +"Silly, silly girl," wailed Mrs. Barraclough. "Sergeant Ealing, do +excuse me whispering to my maid, but it is so difficult to speak out in +public." + +She dropped her voice to a confidential whisper only for the briefest +space and Flora nodded gravely and said: + +"Yes, Madam, I quite understand," and went out. + +"And now I really must be going," said Mrs. Barraclough at her bedroom +door. But she descended again upon her visitors, now purple with +exasperation, and possessed herself of their hands. + +"I have enjoyed your conversation so much, Mr. Ravenscourt, and yours, +too, Sergeant Chiswick, but even the best of friends must part; as +Anthony used to say when I bought him his first comb. Goodbye--goodbye." +She paused dramatically. "Oh, I nearly forgot my salts--my salts. It's +most important. The doctor said that I should never go anywhere without +my salts." + +It was only by exercise of something approaching violence that the +garrulous old lady was finally induced to enter her bedroom and the door +closed upon her. + +"If ever anyone ought to be certified," declared Harrison Smith blindly. + +"I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen," said Anthony. "I don't +imagine she will be long now." + +"For everyone's sake I 'ope she ain't," Dirk contributed. + +But as though to discount this pious ambition came a call from behind the +closed door. + +"Anthony, dear, Anthony! Will you ring the bell for Jane, please?" + +"The bell is at your elbow," said Anthony. "It is for you to decide, +sir, whether it should be rung." + +Harrison Smith tugged at the bell pull viciously. + +"And, Anthony, dear, will you bring me my motoring bonnet?" + +Anthony pointed at the motoring bonnet lying on the table next to the +rose basket, wherein, hidden by the stalks and leaves, was the morocco +letter case. + +"Take the damn thing in yourself," said Harrison Smith. + +It was Dirk who moved forward suspiciously as Barraclough picked up the +bonnet and moved toward the bedroom. Harrison Smith waved him back. + +"There's no other door. Keep a watch on the window," he ordered. + +Anthony entered unmolested and at precisely that moment Bolt came in from +the garden. + +The united forces did not waste time in greetings. + +"We've got him," said Harrison Smith. "He's in there with his mother." + +This was evident enough, for the sound of their voices was audible, Mrs. +Barraclough's high pitched tones crying out: + +"Don't sit on the bed, dear, it creases the quilt." + +"Better look out," Bolt warned. "He's as slippery as an eel." + +"Trust me, we're just waiting to get rid of the old woman, and then----" + +The other door opened and Jane scampered in, crying: + +"Did 'ee ring, marm, did 'ee ring?" + +"Put that basket of roses in the car, Jane," Mrs. Barraclough replied, +and as Jane turned to obey, from the garden in rushed Flora and +Conybeare, calling on their mistress to hasten. + +"Mrs. Brassbound, Mrs. Brassbound," cried Flora. "There's not a moment +to lose." + +"Terrible bad she is, and cryin' out for 'ee, m'am." + +In the midst of this confusion appeared a veiled and cloaked figure, +apparently belonging to Mrs. Barraclough, who nervously flapped hands and +hastened, surrounded by a babbling mob of servitors, toward the nearest +window. + +It did not occur to Barraclough's enemies to offer any resistance to this +general exodus, their attention was absorbed by the bedroom door, which +had shut with a snap and the click of a key. They waited just long +enough for the party of cackling females to get out of the room and down +the path, then rushed at the door with foot and shoulder. It stood up +longer than might have been expected, but Bolt's weight was more than +ordinary woodwork could withstand. The lock burst--the headings split +and it fell inward with a crash. + +Standing by the window, waving a knotted handkerchief to a disappearing +car was Mrs. Barraclough. She scarcely wasted a glance upon the +intruders. + +"Damnation--done!" roared Harrison Smith, as the truth dawned upon him. + +In a solid block they swung round to find themselves staring down the +black barrel of a service revolver held dead rigid in the hands of Jane. + +"Hands above your heads, please," she insisted. + +"And if you'll first wait till dear Anthony turns the bend of the lane," +cooed Mrs. Barraclough, "I'll go through their pockets and take away any +nasty things I may find there. You put the roses in the car, Jane?" + +"He's got it all right," came the answer. + +"Dear roses," said Mrs. Barraclough, sentimentally. + + + + +CHAPTER 28. + +SAND. + +A panel is not beaten into shape by force but by recurrent blows, light +and accurate, and by the same cumulative process, Van Diest and his +colleagues sought to shape the will of Richard Frencham Altar to their +intention. + +The fact that their effort had so far failed in no way discouraged the +belief that eventually it would succeed. There was no doubt in their +minds but that in time he would be brought to speak, but Cranbourne's +unexpected disclosure that the opposition knew of their captive's +whereabouts robbed them of their most valuable asset. Time, so to +speak, was no longer to be relied upon and they were compelled to +resort to a more expeditious method. + +True it would be easy to remove the captive elsewhere but easy matters +are apt to go wrong on performance. A clue might be provided where at +present no clue existed. If Torrington brought a charge it would be +based on hypothetical evidence and come to nothing. On the other hand +unpleasant suspicions would certainly be aroused and neither Van Diest +nor Hipps greatly desired to attract the attentions of the Police. + +If Barraclough could be persuaded to disclose the secret all would be +well. He would be generously rewarded not only for his confidence but +also for a guarantee to disclose none of the privations to which he had +been subjected. The affair would end in an atmosphere of sweet accord. +Torrington's crowd would be knocked out of business and a spirit of +peace and harmony would descend like a benison upon the hard working +trio. + +Could any solution be more satisfactory, but there was a fly in the +ointment. Barraclough's resolution strengthened with adversity, he +kept his tongue behind locked teeth and said precisely nothing. + +At nine o'clock that night the Dutchman's big Rolls Royce delivered him +and Ezra Hipps at Laurence's abode and Laurence himself came out to +meet them. + +"Well?" said Hipps. + +But Laurence shook his head. + +"Nothing doing at present." + +"Has he had any food?" + +"Not today. He's weak enough in all conscience." + +"Sleep?" + +"Damn little. He dropped off two or three times and I got the chaps to +spray him with cold water. That kept him lively. Blayney and Parker +are sleeping in the room now and taking shifts to watch him at night. +Awfully sorry, you two, but I've done my best." + +"I'll get right up," said Ezra P. Hipps. "Say, Auriole'll be along +presently. Tell her to stand by. She may come in useful." + +He marched heavily up the stairs and entered Richard's room. + +Blayney was on duty sprawling watchful on a camp bed, his elbows +propped on a kit bag. + +"Get out, you," said Hipps, and the man obeyed. Then he turned to +Richard. + +The last few days had wrought a desperate change in his looks. Caverns +had sunk in his cheeks and his eyes were ringed with black. That he +stood in earnest need of a shave heightened the pallor of brow and +temples. + +He was seated, cramped rather, in an upright chair with chin down. His +left hand beat a tattoo on the table top and he sucked the thumb of his +right hand like a badly trained child at a make-belief meal. + +"Taste good?" asked Hipps. "If I'd known you'd a fancy that way I'd +have brought along a soother." + +Richard removed his thumb and said, "Go to Hell!" very distinctly. + +Hipps walked a few paces toward him and remarked: + +"Still pretty fresh, I see." + +"Leaking badly, but still afloat," came the reply. + +"Durn me! but you're a sound citizen, Bud. I respect sand but I +despise a fool." + +"All right you do," mumbled Richard sleepily. + +"Pretty tired?" + +"Not sufficiently wide awake to listen to your talk, damn you!" + +The American smiled nastily. + +"Maybe not, but this is a case of having to. Say! ever been in one of +those big machine shops and seen a giant flywheel swizzling round at +three hundred revs. a minute? Guess you wouldn't be gink enough to put +out a hand and try to stop it. Never saw any machine yet that develops +more power than I can." + +Richard shrugged a shoulder; it was too great an effort to shrug both +of them. + +"And I guess you ain't going to stop the fly-wheel of my destiny." + +"You've had a sample," he replied with a touch of spirit. + +Hipps came a step closer and hooked his foot round a leg of Richard's +chair. + +"Know anything about the third degree?" he demanded. + +"What you've shown me." + +Richard's voice sounded far away and disinterested. + +"Show you some more. Stand up! Stand up! I can't bear a drowsy man." +And he kicked the chair half across the room. "Don't hang on to that +table--stand on your legs," and grasping Richard by his shirt front he +forced him into an upright position and held him there. His voice +hardened and rasped like a cross cut file as question after question +boomed out with the relentless quality of minute guns. + +"A year ago you went travelling." + +"You say so." The replies were barely audible. + +"During that time you tumbled on your find." + +"If I did, I did." + +"When was it you struck?" + +"That's my affair." + +"I've made it mine. When was it you struck?" + +"During the six months," said Richard with a twinkle of dying humour. + +"That answer won't do." + +"Only one you'll get." + +"I'm pretty close behind you, Anthony Barraclough." + +Again the twinkle came and went as Richard gave answer. + +"Still behind?" + +"Anthony Barraclough, I've a complete list of the places you visited." + +"Been buying a pocket atlas?" + +"The actual places." + +"Fine!" + +"And I could hazard a guess where the locality is. Like me to try?" + +"If it amuses you any." + +The American's voice rose and filled the room, reverberant as thunder. + +"P'r'aps it isn't so far away after all." + +And out of the wreckage of his resources, Richard Frencham Altar +brought up his big guns for a final effort at counter battery. + +"P'r'aps it isn't, p'r'aps it is," he cried. "Why, you blasted fool, +you'll get nothing from me--nothing. If you know so damn much go and +find the place yourself." + +Ezra Hipps seized him by the shoulders and flung him back against the +wall. + +"We mean to find out." + +"Not from me--not from me," Richard repeated, but the power which had +upheld him was dwindling fast. He knew, knew beyond question that in a +few more moments the truth would be shaken out of him unless he could +devise some means of slackening the strain. And then he had an +inspiration. + +"You fool! You fool!" he cried. "Can't you see what you've done, you +and your idiot crew? As you've driven health from my body so, by your +blasted privations, you've driven memory from my head." + +He tottered drunkenly toward a chair and sat down all of a heap. + +"What's that?" demanded Hipps, with real alarm. + +"I can't remember," Richard laughed hysterically. "I can't remember +what you want to know," and his head fell forward into his hands. + +For nearly a minute, Hipps looked at him in silence and his face was +very white indeed. Then with the breath escaping between his teeth he +turned away. + +It was sheer lunacy on the part of Richard to peep through his fingers +to judge the effect of his words. For it is an established truth that +the nerves of a man's back are sensitive to another's gaze. + +Ezra Hipps swung round so quickly that Richard failed to cover his face +in time. The mischief was done. + +"Very clever," said the American and laughed. "Very clever and I +nearly bought it, but not quite." He seized Richard's wrist and +twisted it downward. "A word of advice against the future, Mister +Barraclough. Next time you're working a crumple-up don't let the chap +you're pulling it on see you looking at it between your fingers." He +strolled up to the door whistling pensively and halted with his hand on +the latch. "I'm doubting if you're going to be a whole lot of use to +us for you're a tough case. When it comes up at Committee my thumb +points down." + +He went out and the bolt shot home behind him. + +For a long while Richard rocked in his chair muttering. He felt very +lonely and his throat ached, his head ached--he ached all over--a +childish desire to snivel possessed him and could not be subdued. If +only there had been a shoulder, some sweet, kind, soft shoulder to soak +up the tired angry tears that fell and fell. A kindly shoulder, a +gentle voice to drive away the horror of these nightmare days. Was all +sweetness gone out of the world? Was the world no more than four +square walls peopled with devils who asked and asked and asked? Was +there nothing else but greed of money, hatred, want, and damnable +persecution? A voice within cried aloud: "Why suffer it all? Why bear +the brunt of other men's adventure?" Five thousand pounds. Was it a +fair price for breaking one's body against rocks, for shattering one's +soul against man unkind? + +Wild uncontrollable resentment seized him and in its wave tossed him +against the door of his prison battering at the panels with bare fists +and shrieking aloud in a voice he could not recognise as his own. + +"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! You've made a mistake. I'm not Bar'clough, +nev' met him. Richard Frencham Altar I am--father shot +himself--Torrington paying me five thousand--keep it up for three +weeks--but you've made the course too stiff. I can't stay the +distance. I can't stay the distance." + +His knees gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor beating the +boards and blubbering like a school-boy. + +But there came no answer from the hollow empty house and presently the +paroxysm passed and he looked up slowly seeing, as it were, a vision of +himself false to every tradition of manhood he had held most dear. + +"Coward!" he said. "Rotten blasted coward! Three weeks and this is +the last day." He looked at his watch. "Only another hour and then +I'm free to speak. Stick it for another hour. Stick it for another +hour." + +And the very saying of the words seemed to increase his stature, swell +his chest, revitalise his manhood. + +When a moment later the door opened and Van Diest chanting his +perpetual hymn came quietly into the room he found Richard rocking on +his heels beside a chair beating time to the music with a shaking +forefinger while from his parched lips he emitted a pathetic pretence +at whistling the same tune. + +"S'bad," muttered Hugo Van Diest. "S'bad business. Must tink all the +time and be worried by dese things. For God's sake you don't fidget. +You tink all the suffering was wit you, but it was inside of me where +the pain live." + +"Ha ha!" said Richard. + +"Discomfort is nutting. I haf before me the prospec' to be beat. It +wass the torture to be beat. You know that." + +"Not yet." + +"Mus' be taught." + +"Ha ha!" said Richard again and banged the dish cover against the table +implements of a foodless tray that had marked the hour of a meal time. + +"Don't fidget!" roared Van Diest, emitting a cloud of tobacco smoke. + +"Don't smoke!" Richard countered in the same tone. + +"I shmoke on purpose." + +"And I fidget on purpose." + +With a sweep of the hand he sent the tray with a crashing to the floor. + +"Ach! Ach! Ach!" cried Van Diest, and was almost choked with a +violent attack of coughing. + +"I make you to speak! I make you to speak! What if I burn you with my +cigar--what if I----" he stopped abruptly and dropped his voice almost +to a whine. "You don't know how goot I make myself to you. I wass a +very kind man. At my home I keep the birds." + +"Poor darlings," said Richard. + +"The canaries; and you look what I haf here. A portrait of my little +granddaughter Sibelle. She sit on my knee the Sunday afternoon and +listen to the tale of Hansell and Grethel. She call me Grandparkins." + +Richard swept the photograph aside with the back of his hand. + +"I'm not sitting on anyone's knee, Grandparkins," he said. + +A bright purple ran over Van Diest's features in blotches and streaks. +He rose to his feet and held out a quivering forefinger. + +"You pay very heavy to make fun of my heart, Mister Barraclough. If +you haf any senses at all you know that all mens wass the two mens--the +home man and the business man--and the one hass nothing to do with the +udter." + +"Leave it at that," said Richard. "I'm not feeling altogether at home +just now." + +"That was your last word?" + +"My last word." + +"So!" said Van Diest. "So!" His eyebrows went up and down and he +seemed lost in thought for a moment. Finally: "You go into the bedroom +now please." + +He gave the order slowly and to Richard's hypersensitive ears it held a +threat of real and imminent danger. It sounded as the burial service +must sound to a man who stands upon a trap with a knotted cord around +his throat. + +"No!" said Richard. "No!" + +"The bedroom." + +"No!" + +An impasse. They stood like duellists trying to read intention in each +other's eyes. + +Hugo Van Diest made the mistake of his life when he abandoned mental +force for violence. The hand he raised to strike Richard across the +face never reached its mark; instead he felt himself go tottering +backward across the room. There was not much force in the blow Richard +struck, but the science was good and he put his weight into it. Van +Diest took it on the point and as he measured his length on the floor +he saw Richard make a dash for the door which had remained unlocked +during the interview. + +Ezra P. Hipps caught him on the landing outside and put on a jiu-jitsu +armlock which closed the argument and sent Richard staggering toward +his bedroom beaten it is true, but absurdly enough triumphant. + +"Listen you," he gasped, his back against the panel. "You think I can +be made to speak--you're wrong--You think I can be tortured and beaten +and bullied into giving up the secret. You're wrong--wrong. There's +something inside of me that'll lick you, lick you hollow. Do your +damndest, my lads, my breaking point is outside your reach." And as a +Parthian arrow he said "Blast you!" and banged the door. + + + + +CHAPTER 29. + +INDIVIDUAL RESOURCE. + +A point of interest arises as to how long one determined girl armed +with a revolver can hold up three desperate men also armed and further +fortified by greed of gold. Your average tough is not greatly alarmed +by a pistol in the hands of a woman. He banks on the theory that so +long as she thinks she is aiming in his direction, he is moderately +secure from harm. It is when she is pointing at some other object fear +arises as to his safety and well being. + +In this particular instance, however, there was an unusually +threatening quality in the demeanour of Jane. She trained her gun like +any artilleryman and in a manner not lightly to be dismissed by the +casual process of a rush. Added to which the position in which these +adventurers found themselves--a compact mass in a single doorway--did +not offer good opportunities for acts of individual or concerted +heroism. They formed, as it were, a unified target, the bull's-eye of +which was the centre of Alfred Bolt's immense corporation. To suppose +that any marksman, however indifferent, could fail to register a hit +upon so broad an invitation was to betray unreason. + +Dirk who had had previous experience in similar situations remarked +with melancholy that the steely eyed Amazon who commanded their +destinies kept carefully out of reach of his foot. This was a pity +since he was contemplating trying the effect of kicking her on the +knee-cap, a proceeding which if performed adroitly is often fruitful of +happy results. Bolt, too, knew a very effective means of ramming his +head into the solar plexus of an adversary, but this again was a form +of attack dependent on proximity. + +It was Harrison Smith's able staff work that won the day. An old +enough trick, heaven knows, but one that generally works. He waited +till her eyes were upon him, then shifted the direction of his gaze to +a point somewhere behind Jane's back and nodded very quickly. + +She is hardly to be blamed for having swung round, but in the second +before she had recovered her wits and realised the bluff, the pistol +had been snatched away and the three men were pouring through the +French windows into the garden. + +It was Mrs. Barraclough who caught her by the arm and prevented her +from following. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Jane. "I've failed, failed." + +"Nonsense, my dear," said the old lady. "You girls have been just +wonderful." She pointed to an horizon of trees a mile away, where a +cloud of dust showed against the shadows. "Look what a lovely start he +has. My Anthony would never let himself be caught by a pack of +such--such----" She hesitated for lack of a word and added "Dirty +dogs" with astonishing vehemence. + +"But what are we to do now?" wailed Jane. + +"Let us walk down to the village church together and I don't think it +would be wrong if we said a little prayer." + +They had reached the front garden when the Ford car, making a +considerable fuss about it, banged and snorted past the front gate. + +There are those perhaps who will condemn Mrs. Barraclough's action, but +let them remember she was a mother. After all it stands to the credit +of any mid-Victorian lady who, notwithstanding the ravages of seventy +years, is able to pick up a flower pot and hurl it accurately into a +moving vehicle. The Reverend Prometheus Bolt caught the missile full +in the side of the head and the last view the old lady had of him was +under a shower of dirt and broken pottery, while from his lips arose a +cloud of invective more azure than the skies. + +From where the car had been standing appeared Cynthia the cook. In her +hand she carried a watering can, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes +wild. + +"I'd have done in their car if you'd held 'em a moment longer," she +panted indignantly. "Didn't have time to slash their tyres but I did +manage to get about half a pint of water in the petrol tank before they +slung me into the hedge." + +And very valuable was the help thus afforded for within a mile the Ford +had banged and snuffled itself to a standstill and twenty minutes were +lost draining the tank and blotting up the rust coloured drops from the +bottom of the float chamber. Both Dirk and Bolt were in favour of +returning to the house in order to conduct a punitive campaign, but +Harrison Smith would not hear of this. + +"We must push the damn car all we know how," he said, Working +feverishly at the union of the induction pipe with a spanner that +didn't fit. "If we haven't caught up with them by eight o'clock I +shall drop Bolt at a post office and he must get through to the Chief." + +"What, the Dutchman?" + +"No choice. It's infernal luck, but better that than let him get +through with the thing." + +"If you ask me, Smith," said Bolt critically. "If you ask my opinion +I'd say you've made a bloomer of this show." + +"You can keep your opinion till I do ask for it," came the retort. +"Get in. She's clear now." + +He took a heave on the starting handle and jumped to his place at the +wheel. + +"Keep your eye on those tyre marks, Dirk. If you lose 'em I'll break +your head." + +And from the spirit of this remark it will be seen that kindliness and +fellowship had gone by the board. + + + + +CHAPTER 30. + +THE TRUE AURIOLE. + +Hugo Van Diest struggled to his feet gasping for breath and stroking +his chin with sympathetic fingers. Comparatively speaking, Richard's +blow had been a light one, but the Dutchman's training had not fitted +him for taking punishment. He was hurt, outraged and resentful. + +"This young man wass very violent, Hipps," he muttered jerkily. "I +donno--s'no use--seems." + +"Are we beat, Chief?" + +"I don't like this word 'beat.' Mus' be a way." He paused for a +moment to recover his breath then turned to Laurence. "This Miss +Craven, she hass not arrifed yet?" + +"She's here. Came five minutes ago." + +"She know how we stand, yes?" + +Hipps nodded. + +"She don't quite register on the line we've adopted to make him talk. +Kind o' kept that in the background. Women are soft." + +"Ask she come up," said Van Diest. + +And Laurence went out passing Blayney who was on duty outside the door. + +"What's the bend, Chief?" demanded Hipps. + +Van Diest shook his head thoughtfully. "Donno, donno. Wass awful if +we mus' do someting. Eh? Hipps, eh?" + +And he tilted his head suggestively toward Richard's bedroom. + +"His own damn fault," came the answer. + +"But it wass a man's life, Hipps." + +"I've no choice that way myself." + +Van Diest began to pace the floor, his fingers tattooing on his chest +and his head going from side to side. + +"We ought to haf read better the character of this man. S'no good to +know about the monies and not about the mens. We find ourselves in a +terrible position. Ss! Terrible--terrible." + +There was a clatter of footsteps on the stairs and Laurence, a +telegraph form in his hand, burst into the room. + +"What you haf there?" + +"Can't make head nor tail of the damn thing. Read it aloud," cried +Laurence excitedly. + +Ezra Hipps moved over to his Chief's side as the old man picked out the +code words and translated them aloud. + +The message was simple enough. + +"'Saw Barraclough Polperro this morning. Been following all day. +Escaped in Panhard, probably will enter London by Portsmouth or Great +Western Road. Am pursuing in Ford car. Obstruct. Harrison Smith.'" + +It was handed in at eight o'clock and postmarked Wimborne. + +"Saw Barraclough!" repeated Hipps. "Harrison Smith's gone crazy." + +For a moment Van Diest said nothing, then remarked: + +"Smart man, you know. Smart man." + +"He's made a mistake," said Laurence. "How in hell could he see +Barraclough when----" There was no point in finishing the sentence. + +"S'not often he make a mistake. Our opponents haf been ver' quiet, you +know, ver' quiet. Perhaps now they draw the kipper across the path." + +"He's got bats," said Hipps. "Been standing in the sun." + +"I'd ignore the whole thing," said Laurence. "Ten to one it's a trick. +A stunt put up by our adversaries." + +"In our private code, Laurence? No, no, no. I tink it wass well we +take some precautions with this gentlemen who wass so like our guest. +You will telephone to Mr. Phillips please that I would like some of +those roads that lead into London made--difficult." Then as Laurence +seemed disposed to argue: "You haf your orders," he thundered. + +As Laurence was leaving the room, Auriole came in and stood hesitating +on the threshold. + +"Ah! Miss Craven," said Van Diest stooping to kiss her fingers. "For +you a little work. You will talk to our guest, yes? So stubborn he +wass. You ver' clever woman, ver' gentle. You put your arms around +him--so! You whisper, you beseech, you ver' sympathetic. P'r'aps you +make 'im cry. Then he tell you what he refuse to tell us. +S'understood?" + +"Yes, I understand," said Auriole in a small voice. + +"Goot! Then we go downstairs now. Come, Hipps." At the door he +paused. "S'ver' important you succeed because we haf tried all the +rest." He spoke the final words slowly and with great meaning, then +turned and went out. + +Auriole caught Ezra Hipps by the sleeve as he passed her. + +"What does he means--'all the rest?'" she questioned. + +The American scarcely paused in his stride. "Think it over," he said, +and closed the door behind him. + +With a heart that thumped hammer blows against her side, Auriole turned +toward Richard's bedroom and paused with her hand on the latch. She +felt as a traitor might feel who was seeking audience of his sovereign. +For a traitor she was. False to her original employers, to her ideals +and to a man who, even though he might have stirred in her the hope of +a wedding had never willingly wrought her a single wrong. A dozen +times in the last three days her hand had gone out to the telephone and +the will had been there to confess to Cranbourne that her allegiance to +his side existed no longer, but even in this her honesty had broken +down. She saw herself, as she hesitated on the threshold, a wretched +mercenary creature--the sport of greed and jealousy--self-centred and +governed by thought of gain. It was not a pleasant reflection. For +the doubtful blessing of being wife to an unscrupulous millionaire she +had deafened her ears to the call of every decent instinct. + +And now the Fates had so contrived that it rested with her to make the +supreme final appeal and on her success or failure depended the safety +and future of the man within. A horrible conviction came over her that +these men who held Barraclough captive would indeed stop at nothing to +gain their ends and that the innuendoes they had uttered were terribly +in earnest. Unless he were persuaded to speak his very life would be +forfeit, and it was this consideration that fortified her to make the +effort. + +Richard was sprawling on the wire mattress when she threw open the +door. He raised a pair of hollow eyes that looked at her without +recognition. Instinctively she shrunk away from him appalled at the +changes in his face and bearing. + +"What have they been doing to you?" was startled from her. + +Richard hitched himself into a sitting posture and coughed. + +"Who are you?" he said. + +"Don't you even know me?" + +He thought before replying. + +"Yes, I know you. You're the woman who was jealous of someone." + +"Someone! Is that how you speak of your sweetheart!" + +"Wait a bit. It's coming back. Isabel, wasn't it? Isabel Irish. +Well, what do you want?" + +She came a little nearer. + +"To be with you. I haven't seen you for a long time, now." + +"You deserted me, didn't you? I m-missed you at first. Th' one bright +spot your coming." + +"Was it?" she whispered. + +He staggered to his feet and walked rockily into the inner room. + +"No! What'm I saying. Man with a sweetheart doesn't want you." + +"Tony!" + +"No, no. 'Cos you're the worst devil of the lot. Decoyed me to this +damn place." + +"Tony, I'm so sorry," her hand fell on his sleeve, but he drew away. + +"Don't come near me. Don't touch me. I mustn't be touched." + +"Then I'll sit over here," said she. + +"Yes, there. No, get out. Leave me alone, d'y' hear?" His voice +pitched up high and imperative, but as suddenly dropped again. "I beg +your pardon. I'm not much of a man to talk to a woman jus' now." + +"I think you're a very fine man, Tony." + +"Ha! Yes. A devil of a fellow!" + +"But so stubborn," she whispered. + +"There you go," he cried. "I knew it. I knew you came here for that." + +"Tony! Tony!" she implored. "This has gone too far. You've been +splendid, but what's the use. Just think, my dear, how rich you'd be." + +"I don't want to be rich. Rich men torture each other," he cried, +steadying himself against the back of a chair. + +"You've only to say one word and you can walk out of here without a +care in the world." + +The sound of violins was in her voice. The promise of life care-free +and full of sunshine was in her eyes and the curve of her smile. + +He tried to look away, but the appeal was too strong. + +"I can walk out of here," he repeated. "Out of here!" + +"Such a lovely world, too." + +The touch of her breath on his cheek was like a breeze and the smell of +her hair like violets. + +"Yes, yes." + +"A great big garden of a world," he crooned, and no song ever sounded +sweeter. + +He felt his power to resist was ebbing away--falling from him like a +cloak. With a mighty effort, he replied: + +"A garden full of Eves." + +And he sat humped up upon the camp bed. Auriole glided toward him and +slipped her arms round his neck. He made no effort to escape. + +"Eves are rather nice," she whispered. + +His head tilted back against her. + +"Rather nice," he echoed. "Rather nice. Soft shoulders where a man +can rest his head." A glorious drowsiness was stealing over his limbs, +a blessed sense of drifting into unknown contentment. She drew up her +knees and they sat huddled together on the narrow canvas bed like babes +in a wood. He was barely conscious of her voice. It came to his ears +as gently as the sound of waves running over sand. + +"--all the wonderful things we could do, Tony. The plans we could make +come true. We could go out to a fairy-like dinner together--in one of +your wonderful cars you could fetch me--and the streets would be +twinkling with lights like jewels in Aladdin's cave." + +Then he found he was talking too. + +"A farm in New Zealand," he said. "Great flocks of sheep and herds of +cattle. I know the place. There are mountains with snow caps, green +grass plains, black firs and running water. I could have all that--if +only--But no." + +"Nothing is out of reach, Tony. Everything can be yours at the price +of a little sentence--just a little sentence." + +"No, no." + +"Yon need never see those others again, but just tell me. Men tell +everything to women, they can't keep a secret from a woman. Nature +never intended they should. That's why Nature made women the mothers +because the first secret of life is theirs, and all the rest follow +after." + +"You're bad, bad," he moaned. "A cheat trying to get at me by +kindness." + +"And isn't kindness worth a little? Come, kneel down and whisper. It +will be easy with your head in my lap and my arms around you. Kneel +down and whisper." + +Heaven perhaps could tell where Richard found that last speck of sand +which gave him the power to spring to his feet, to shake off the subtle +influence of touch and voice, and to answer in a voice that fairly rang +with resolve: + +"No, nothing--_nothing_." + +To Auriole he looked almost godlike as he stood with clenched fists and +every fibre quivering. It was in that instant of admiration and +amazement she recognised him as another man and the cry burst from her +lips: + +"You're not Anthony Barraclough!" + +Richard wavered visibly and for the first time she saw real fear in his +eye. + +"What are you saying? You're mad," he answered. + +"You're not Anthony Barraclough!" + +"I am. I am." + +"No!" She seized him by the shoulders and stared into his face. +"You're different, your eyes, your mouth. Who are you?" + +"Anthony Barraclough!" he cried. + +"It's not true. Anthony would never have stood this. The men, yes. +The torture, yes, but he always gives way to a woman. Who are you?" + +"I've said," he answered brokenly. "I've said." + +A turmoil of thoughts raced through her mind and she spoke them aloud. + +"Anthony away getting the concession. You here taking his place. It +was clever--clever. Damn them for letting you do it. And you've done +it so wonderfully--borne all this when at a word you might----" + +"Talking nonsense," he moaned desperately. + +"And you don't know what the secret is. No one but Anthony does. +That's true, isn't it?" + +"I do know. I do know--won't say." + +"You can't know. That's true, isn't it? Answer me--answer!" + +And quite suddenly Richard Frencham Altar's world went all black and +his knees gave way beneath him. He fell with his head in his hands +crying and gasping like a broken hearted child. And Auriole came to +him and put her arms round him and kissed his neck, his hair, and his +poor thin hands. + +"And I've helped in the torture," she sobbed. "Broken you down. Oh! +what a beast. What a beast I am." + +"Very tired," said Richard. "Want to go to sleep." + +"There's no sleep for you in this house except----" + +The door opened and Ezra Hipps walked in. + +"Sorry to interrupt," he said, "but how's things?" + +"I was just coming," said Auriole with a quick pretence at light +heartedness. "I have something important to say." + +Hipps shook Richard by the shoulder. + +"How's that memory?" he enquired. + +Once again the last reserves were pushed into the line. + +"Bad," said Richard. "Damn bad." + +"Then I guess that ends the play," said the American. + +"I want you," said Auriole. "Please." + +They went out of the room together. + + + + +CHAPTER 31. + +A WAY OUT. + +When Auriole slipped quietly into the room five minutes later she found +Richard asleep on the camp bed with Blayney's kit bag tucked under his +head. + +Below stairs there existed a state of turmoil. She had exploded her +bombshell as to Richard's false identity secure in the belief that it +would result in his immediate liberation. + +"But Hell! what are you thinking off?" Hipps had roared. "D'you +imagine we can pass him out after what's happened? So long as the +fellar's above ground we ain't safe." + +"You can't mean----" she had cried. + +"We're busy. Keep out of the path, kid." + +She had left them rattling instructions through the telephone to a +person called Phillips. The need of the moment from their point of +view was to waylay the returning Barraclough. + +Van Diest was shouting for his car and from the jargon of voices, +Auriole learnt their intention of making an immediate descent upon the +rival camp to demand terms. In the midst of the chaos Auriole slipped +away, snatched up a bottle of champagne and some biscuits from the +dining table and ran up the stairs to Richard's room. + +Parker, who was at the door, shot the bolt after she entered and in so +doing destroyed a foolish hope that she might succeed in getting +Richard out of the house while the excitement relaxed observation. Her +two seater car was under the trees at the end of the road and if they +could reach it---- + +She seized Richard's arm and stifled the cry he gave with her other +hand. + +"Hush, hush, for pity's sake," she implored. "Here's some +champagne--drink it. No, no, it isn't poison--drink--drink," and she +filled a glass that stood upon the table. "Eat these biscuits too, and +listen to me." + +Of course he did not understand. He drank the champagne and ate the +biscuits wolfishly while she talked. It was clear something had +happened--some unlooked for reversal of feeling--but beside the food +and drink nothing seemed to matter. The good wine felt like new life +blood flowing through his veins. + +"They're downstairs now," she said. "Making up their minds." + +He found intelligence enough to ask: + +"They know I'm not Barraclough?" + +"I told them, yes." + +"You shouldn't," he said simply. + +"I thought they'd let you go." + +"Well?" He refilled his glass. + +"They said it wouldn't be possible now. That's why I've got to get you +away--somehow--somehow." + +She was moving desperately up and down the room as though by very +desire she would create an opening in the walls. + +"Get me away!" he said stupidly. "Why do you want to get me away?" + +"Because you're a different man, a splendid man. And they're beasts +and brutes." + +It was all very confusing, very unbelievable. Richard had a faint +impression that it was happening to someone else or in a dream. Why +was this wonderful creature worrying about him. The wine was mounting +to his head. + +"A splendid man," he repeated senselessly. "And you want to get me +away. Tha's kind--kind." + +"I've a car outside if we could only reach it." + +That was a droll thing to say, but it sounded real. He answered as +though someone had actually spoken of a car outside and a chance of +reaching it. + +"Not a hope." + +The bottle was empty now, which was a good thing. + +"There must be. The windows!" + +He shook his head as she ran toward them. If the beautiful lady wanted +to play the escape game he might as well take an intelligent interest +and play it sensibly. + +"No good," said he. "Soon as you lift the shutter bar an alarm starts +ringing and they all rush in." + +"S'pose we did that," said Auriole with a sudden idea. "Worked in the +dark, started the bell, and when they came in made a dash for it." + +Sensible talk this, he must reply sensibly. + +"No good. One of 'em always stands in the door." + +"Then somehow we must get them away from the door into your bedroom." + +That was logical, interesting, too. + +"Of course we must get them away from the door. Tha's the idea. Tha's +the idea," he said. + +"Oh! can't you think of a way?" she begged. + +It wasn't fair to ask questions. The game was of her invention, not +his. Still, in common politeness one must take a hand, show a +willingness. It would be awful if she lost patience with him and left +him to his loneliness. + +He answered that unspoken fear simply as a child. + +"But you won't leave me alone again, will you?" + +"Can't you realise I'm on your side," she said, shaking him by the arm. + +"My side, yes," he repeated. "I'm glad you're on my side. We're +friends aren't we?" + +To this pleasant reflection he sat down on the hard chair and smiled +happily. Friends is a lovely word to play with when one has been over +long neglected. He wished she would sit too, and make a pillow for his +head, but instead she was flitting from place to place acting in the +oddest way. From the camp bed she had dragged Blayney's kit bag and +was buttoning it into an old dressing gown provided for his use. + +"I must have a head," she was saying, which sounded idiotic to Richard +who saw that her own was beautiful. + +He pointed to a bronze bust of Van Diest which had been placed on the +mantelpiece a few days before, presumably to act as a reminder of the +influence dominating the apartment. + +"Try that one," he suggested, laughing inanely. + +But Auriole did not laugh. She gave a glad cry and called on him to +help. Together they carried the bust and soon had tied it securely +inside the dressing gown. + +It did not occur to Richard to ask the reason why this strange dummy +had been created. It was all of a piece with the dream-like spirit +which pervaded everything. Her explanation was voluntary. + +"It's to put in your bed," she said. "We'll take out the electric +bulbs, then start the bells going. When they come in and you don't +answer they'll go into the bedroom. They'll find this and think it's +you." + +"Think this is me!" said Richard. "That's funny." He broke into a +storm of laughter which ended as abruptly as it began, ended from a +sudden realisation that all this folly and mummery was a real and solid +effort to compass his escape. "Wait a bit," he said, rubbing his brow +fiercely. "It's coming back. I see the idea. Bless you, for trying. +We'll have a shot." + +He dragged the dummy into the inner room by the waist cord of the +dressing gown which was tied about its neck. The brain fog was gone. +He was surprisingly clear headed now, and an unnatural vitality buoyed +him up. The bedroom door swung to behind him and he heard Auriole cry: + +"I'm doing the lights, be quick." + +And at that moment he had a notion and acted upon it quickly. An old +gas bracket over the door helped the operation. When he had finished +he kicked over a chair and re-entered the now pitch dark room. + +"I've got hold of the shutter bar," he heard her cry. + +"Let her go," he answered. + +And down in the hall below they heard the big alarm bell clang out the +warning. + +Clinging to each other's hands they waited, their backs flattened +against the wall. And presently it came; the sound of men's footsteps +dashing up the stairs. The door burst open and a number of dark shapes +poured into the room. Framed in the open doorway, a black silhouette +against the light from the well of the staircase, stood Blayney, a +pistol in his hand. + +There was a veritable hubbub of voices. "What's the matter with the +lights?" "Where are the switches?" "Hell! that sucker is trying to +put it over on us!" "The bedroom shutters--He's trying to escape." +"For Lord's sake where's the door?" + +Someone found the knob in the darkness and the bedroom door was flung +open. There was a scream from Laurence. Then Hipps' voice bellowing: + +"Great God! he's hanged himself." + +Swinging from the lintel, shadowy against the grey light beyond was, +apparently, the figure of Richard Frencham Altar dangling on a rope. + +Even the perfectly trained Blayney deserted his post to leap forward +and see, and in that instant of neglect, Richard and Auriole darted +from the room and slammed and bolted the door. + +Nor could Richard resist the temptation of lifting an exultant cry of, +"Good-night, gentlemen," ere he was seized by Auriole and hurried down +the stairs. + +As they passed through the front garden and ran stumbling toward the +waiting car they could hear above them the sound of curses and hammer +blows echoing through the house. + + + + +CHAPTER 32. + +THE APPOINTED HOUR. + +Hilbert Torrington was first to arrive. His big car deposited him at +Crest Chambers at ten forty-five, a quarter of an hour before the time +promised for Barraclough's arrival. The ever attentive Doran took his +hat and coat, turned on the table lamp and provided him with a pack of +Patience cards. + +"You look hopeful, sir," he remarked. + +"I always expect the best till I have knowledge of the worst," came the +smiling rejoinder. "I trust you have quite recovered from the effects +of the anaesthetic." + +"Thank you, sir. But my recovery'll date from the hour the Captain +gets back." + +Doran liked to refer to his master by the military rank he had borne +during the war. + +"To be sure," said Mr. Torrington. "That will be a welcome event to +all of us." + +Next came Cranbourne, very anxious and ever pulling out his watch, +tugging at his lower lip or pacing up and down. + +"Why not take a chair?" suggested Mr. Torrington. + +"Can't! I feel things y'know." + +"All my life I've been feeling things without showing it," came the +reflective observation. "If only I had that two of diamonds! It's +sure to be the last card." + +"How you can sit there playing cards!" + +"I'm too old to walk about." + +Cranbourne stopped and looked at him. + +"Mr. Torrington," he said. "Has it occurred to you that in undertaking +this thing we have been guilty of grave wrong-doing? To line our own +pockets while we stayed safe at home men have gone out at the risk of +their lives. We may talk of adventure--the romance of business--we may +call our job by a dozen pretty names, but it analyses out at something +fairly damnable when we apply the supreme test." + +Mr. Torrington nodded. + +"And yet what is the alternative?" he asked. "Life is only a matter of +diamond cut diamond." + +"It's a scavenger's job," said Cranbourne. "And you can't get away +from that." + +"Without conflict there would be no progress." + +Cranbourne shook his head angrily. + +"What right have we to control other men's destinies?" he said. "Where +is the justice that puts such men as ourselves in command?" + +"Opportunity does that, not justice," said Mr. Torrington slowly. "My +first employment was cleaning windows. I saw a man, who was so +engaged, fall from a fourth floor sill into the street. I picked him +up dead, carried him into the building and I asked for his job. A +nasty story isn't it?" + +Cranbourne snorted. + +"It covers us all," he said. "We spend our lives robbing flowers from +cemeteries, keeping our souls in our trousers pockets along with the +other small change. Hullo!" + +Doran opened the door and announced Nugent Cassis. That meant that all +over the town clocks would be striking eleven. + +"Any news?" he rapped out. + +"None." + +"But there wouldn't be," said Cranbourne. "He promised to send a +message when he was nearing home. It's time he was here." The little +man was plainly agitated. + +Hilbert Torrington smiled at him over the carefully arranged playing +cards. + +"They tell me, Cassis, your wife has been indisposed. I trust she is +better." + +"I really don't know," came the irritable response. "You can hardly +expect----" + +"These trifles so easily escape us," murmured the old man. + +Nugent Cassis scowled and turned to Cranbourne. + +"How's that other fellow getting on? What's his name--Altar?" + +"He's holding out." + +"At Laurence's house?" + +"I believe so." + +"You've heard from the woman lately!" + +"Not lately." + +"I've a doubt about that woman. She's been seen a good bit with the +American. I've had them watched. Nothing would surprise me less than +to hear she'd given us away." + +"That's hardly likely, Cassis, since she believes it is Barraclough +they've got hold of." + +"Women are very tricky. I don't trust 'em! Suppose they've made it +uncomfortable for Frencham Altar, what? Well it was only to be +expected." + +The callous practicality of tone fired Cranbourne to answer: + +"Expected, yes. But one of these days if there's any justice knocking +about this old world of ours we shall have to pay." + +"Five thousand was the price," retorted Cassis. + +It is probable there might have been a row had not Mr. Torrington +intervened with the suggestion that Frencham Altar's cheque should be +signed while they were waiting. Cassis obstructed the idea. He +thought tomorrow would be quite soon enough. He scouted Mr. +Torrington's statement that on the morrow they would have to see about +Frencham Altar's release. He said that this was a matter dependant on +Barraclough's return. + +"Our contract with Altar terminated at eleven tonight," insisted Mr. +Torrington. "Kindly sign this cheque beneath my signature." + +And very grumblingly Cassis obliged. + +"We have staked a lot of money on this affair," he said. + +"Yes, and not a little reputation," replied the old man. + +"Don't follow your reasoning." + +"I'm getting old, Cassis, reaching the age when the hereafter becomes +the nearafter." + +"Then I should retire from business before you waste any more money," +said Cassis with surprising venom. + +But Mr. Torrington did not resent the remark since he knew how nerves +affect certain dispositions. + +The arrival of Lord Almont Frayne, resplendent from the Opera, relieved +the situation of tension. It would have taken a very practised eye to +detect anxiety under the mask of bored and elegant indifference he had +assumed. He apologised for being late, but had been button-holed by a +fellow in the foyer who wanted to talk polo. Very disappointing +evening altogether. The prima donna had sung flat and an understudy +was on for Tenor's part. It was only as an after thought he mentioned +the object of their meeting and he touched upon it in the lightest vein. + +"Nothing doing?" + +"Nothing." + +"Ah! well, it's early yet. Hot ain't it? Mind if I get myself a peg?" +He was crossing to the decanter when he stopped, drew an envelope from +his pocket and placed it on the table before Mr. Torrington. + +"What do you make of that?" he asked. "Came early this morning, no +post mark--nothing--just slipped through the box." + +Hilbert Torrington took from the envelope a single flower pressed +almost flat. It was a dog rose. + +"Odd," he muttered, "distinctly odd." He weighed the flower in his +hand and sniffed the envelope critically. It had no scent. "You have +no one, Almont--I mean, there isn't anyone who'd be likely to--Well, +you're a young man." + +"Oh, Lord! no, nothing of that kind." + +And Almont's inflection suggested that the very idea of such a thing +caused him pain. + +Hilbert Torrington pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. + +"What does a dog rose suggest to you, Cassis?" + +"A silly interruption," replied that gentleman sourly. + +"Yes, yes, but was there not--dear me, it's so long ago I've almost +forgotten--was there not some floral Lingua Franca--Ah! the language of +flowers." + +Cassis snorted, but Cranbourne was at the book shelves in an instant. + +"It's printed at the back of dictionaries," he said. "Here's one!" He +took out a volume and turned over the pages as he spoke. "This is it. +Rose--Love. Yellow rose--jealousy. White rose--I am worthy of you. +Dog rose--Hope." + +"Hope," repeated Mr. Torrington. + +Lord Almont struck the table and sprang to his feet. + +"By God!" he cried. "Barraclough's going to win through." + +In the midst of a babel of tongues the telephone rang imperatively. +Mr. Torrington picked up the receiver. + +"Yes, yes," he said. "Who? You are speaking for Mr. Van Diest." + +The three other men came instantly to attention and exchanged glances. +There was a pause. Then Mr. Torrington said: + +"Indeed! Oh, very well--delightful," and he replaced the receiver. + +"What's happened?" Almont demanded. + +"I don't entirely know. But it appears that Van Diest and his amiable +colleague Hipps, are shortly paying us a visit--here." + +There was a moment of consternation. + +"But Good Lord!" exclaimed Cranbourne. "That may mean anything." + +Nugent Cassis threw up his hands desperately. Every vestige of his +quiet business habit had vanished and instead he was a nerve-racked +exasperated man who paced up and down jerking out half sentences, +reproaches and forecasts of failure. + +"It's that fellow Frencham Altar given us away. Damn stupid +introducing the type--man on a bench--Means ruin to the lot of us. +Coming here are they? Refuse to see them. I knew there'd be a break +down somewhere--felt it in my joints--If everything had gone according +to schedule, Barraclough would have been back by now--Punctual +man--reliable----" + +"Big stakes involve big risks," said Mr. Torrington sweetly. + +"And haven't we taken them?" Cassis barked. "Good Heavens alive! +why--What's that?" + +There was a murmur of voices in the hall, the room door was thrown +open, and Isabel Irish came in breathlessly. She threw a quick glance +round the circle of faces as though seeking someone. + +"Where is he? Where's Tony? It's after eleven--half past--Why isn't +he here?" + +Mr. Torrington rose and offered a chair, which she refused with a +gesture. + +"We are waiting, my dear." + +"But why isn't he here?" she repeated. + +"How can we possibly say?" ejaculated Cassis testily. "In a venture of +this kind----" + +She caught up the word "venture" and threw it back at him. + +"No message, nothing." + +Cranbourne was about to answer, but Torrington interrupted him to tell +her of the dog rose Lord Almont had received. + +"That was from him--that was from Tony," she cried. "I gave him a +spray of them on the night he started." + +"That's encouraging," said Lord Almont. + +But Cassis was not in a mood to be encouraged. + +"It may mean much or little," he snorted. "Still, there is nothing to +prevent our hoping." + +Of all worldly trials, waiting is the severest, and tatters the nerves +quicker than any other. Isabel Irish did not like Nugent Cassis--he +belonged to the money people who had no real existence in her +reckoning--but ordinarily speaking she would never have lashed out at +him with such vehemence. The fire in her voice and eyes entirely +robbed the little man of power to retort. Nor was the tirade she +uttered levelled at him alone, everyone present came in for a share. +One small girl with a shock of curly hair whipping with scorpions the +heads of a mighty financial concern. + +"Hoping he'll get through with the cash," she said, "so that you can +have money and more money and then more money. That's all he counts +for to you--a machine to fill your pockets---- Doesn't matter if he +gets broken throwing out the coins, wouldn't matter if he never came +back at all so long as the concession came safely to hand. Oh! it +makes me sick--it makes me sick." Her voice broke, but she forced the +tears back by sheer strength of will. "He may be dead--anything may +have happened to him---- And you could have prevented it all, sent an +army to protect him. But no, that wouldn't do--too conspicuous--other +people might find out--profits might have to be divided--so all you can +do is to sit in a circle waiting--waiting--like a dog with a biscuit on +its nose for the words 'Paid for, paid for.'" + +And having emptied out her soul's measure of resentment she threw +herself onto the sofa and sobbed and sobbed with her curly head in Mr. +Torrington's lap. + +No one spoke, not even when Doran came in and whispered that Van Diest +and Hipps had arrived and demanded audience. It was Cranbourne who +came forward and picking her up in his arms like an injured child +carried her into the other room and laid her on Barraclough's bed. + +"We haven't lost yet, my dear," he said, and stroked her forehead. + +He left her crying gently on the pillow, her little pink cheeks all +shiny with tears. + +Mr. Torrington waited for Cranbourne to return before giving Doran +instructions to show in the gentlemen. To Cassis' unspoken protest he +replied: + +"They evidently have some information which we lack. It would be wise +to find out what it is." + +Ezra P. Hipps was first to enter. He came in like a triumphant army +occupying captured territory. Close upon his heels was Hugo Van Diest, +smiling ingratiatingly and bowing to the company. Hilbert Torrington +rose and returned the courtesy. + +"An unexpected pleasure, gentlemen. And what precisely do you want?" + +"I guess it's a talk to the man who shoots the bull in the ring," Hipps +replied, and added: "That substitute trick has exploded and the chap +who pulled it has done a guy." + +Mr. Torrington and Cranbourne exchanged glances. + +"Am I to understand that Mr. Frencham Altar has found your hospitality +too oppressive?" he asked. + +"Put it how you like, but that's a side show," came the answer. "We're +here on business." + +Nugent Cassis had recovered some of his self-possession and remarked +crisply: + +"We are very busy, Mr. Hipps." + +"And since the light came into the temple, Nugent Cassis, we've been +busy ourselves. Struck me one or two little matters need adjusting." + +"Your treatment of the substitute for example," said Cranbourne. + +"Not unlikely, but that job'll keep, and it's in hand already under +Laurence." + +"Dear me, we are being very frank, are we not?" murmured Mr. Torrington. + +"Gentlemen, it's come to our ears that a certain Mr. Barraclough is +taking grave risks tonight to get home." + +Cranbourne flashed an eye at the bedroom door. "Go on!" he said. +"Talk straight, man." + +Hilbert Torrington held up a hand. + +"One minute," he suggested. "I imagine Mr. Hipps is reluctant to speak +out before so many witnesses. It would be better perhaps if Mr. Van +Diest and myself discussed this matter in private. Is everyone +agreeable?" + +There was some small demur, but it was finally agreed upon. The others +went out into the hall, leaving Mr. Torrington and Van Diest alone. + +They were both very smiling and scrupulously polite, but the air of the +room seemed to crackle with stored electricity. The Dutchman was given +a chair by the writing table and cigarettes were placed at his elbow. +Indeed, every social amenity was observed before Hilbert Torrington +fired the first round. + +"Let us assume, Van Diest, that we are neither of us honourable men." + +Van Diest took quite a long time lighting a cigarette before replying. + +"You don't mind if I smoke?" + +"It's an admirable sedative for conscience and nerves alike. Wouldn't +you prefer a cigar of Barraclough's?" + +"Ach! it wass of this young man I wass about to speak." + +"I had almost guessed it," said Mr. Torrington, and picking up the +patience cards began to lay them out in little packs. + +"It is said he iss on the road tonight--wass seen by a man who hass +done some works for me." + +"Indeed! That must have surprised you very much. After cherishing the +belief that he was snugly accommodated at Laurence's house." + +Van Diest acknowledged this thrust gracefully. + +"A clever idea thiss substitute--a nice fellow too--vonderful +determination." + +"Hm! Careless of you to lose him." + +"Mislay, my friend. I do not know thiss verb to lose." + +"So you come to me for instruction? Ah well, it's never too late to +learn." + +For the first time Van Diest scowled, but quickly controlled his +features and waved a hand over the cards. + +"You tell your fortune, eh?" + +"Dear me, no! I can wait for that to develop. A mere game of +patience, nothing more." + +"There are times, Mr. Torrington, when action is of more value than +patience." + +"I treasure your opinion," came the smiling rejoinder. "What was it +you were saying? A man of yours saw Barraclough? Was that all he did?" + +"Not a very smart man that." + +"But you've others--smarter?" + +"Mus' not let ourselves be beat, y'know." + +"So galling isn't it?" + +"I haf no experience," retorted Van Diest, and rising crossed to a +canary cage in the window where, to Mr. Torrington's silent +indignation, he spent quite a long while whistling and saying "Sweet +sweet" to the little inmate. + +"But what if you are beaten already, Van Diest? Anthony Barraclough is +on his way home presumably with the concession in his pocket." + +"But he hass not yet arrifed, eh? Dicky, eh? Oh, this poor little one +he will miss his master. So the poor--the poor--Sweet! Sweet!" + +Mr. Torrington frowned and placing a piece of sugar from the saucer of +his coffee cup in a spoon held it out at arm's length. + +"Present this sugar to your feathered friend with my compliments," said +he. "And ask him to excuse you for a moment." + +Hugo Van Diest returned to the table wreathed in smiles. + +"So you wish to talk. Proceed." + +"If Barraclough has the concession what have you to gain?" The banter +had died out of the old man's voice. + +"There wass millions of concessions never taken up. S'pose thiss one +is lost, eh? Who will be the wiser?" + +"I see. Dog in the Manger?" + +"We lock the stable door before the horse arrife that is all." + +"And how far have you decided to go--all the way?" + +Van Diest appeared to deliberate before answering. + +"Accidents, you know, they will happen. These boys wass ver' reckless. +With all these motors and trains life is risky, the streets too, are +dangerous. You never know with these boys." He stopped as Hilbert +Torrington drew the telephone toward him. "What are you going to do?" + +"Ring up the Police, my friend. You will be charged with conspiracy +and intent to murder." + +Van Diest's little eyes glittered threateningly. "By the time the +Police arrife it will be too late," said he. "Put down that telephone. +I wass not so easily frightened." His voice pitched up and seemed +suddenly to catch fire. He rose to his feet and beat the table with +both hands. "You fool, thiss wass business, business, business, the +meaning, the motive of my whole life, and if you think I give way at +the threat of a rope you don't know Hugo Van Diest. My heart, my whole +soul, I haf invest in this enterprise and I don't leave it. I don't +move one inch till I haf what I want." + +"Money?" thundered Mr. Torrington. + +"Pounds, my friend, shillings and pence." + +"And men's lives." There was a fine scorn in the old man's tone. +"Money! I hate the name of it. It turns the honour and cleanliness of +men into trashy circles of metal. To business then. What chance has +Barraclough of winning through?" + +"Very small." + +"Go on!" + +"If you want that thiss radium company shall be floated you would haf +the better chance if----" + +"Well?" + +"You gif to us one-third interest." + +"And that represents his chances?" + +Van Diest nodded unpleasantly. + +"But you will understand of course, that there iss not a lot of time to +lose." + +"In a word you are prepared to call off your dogs for a matter of +millions." + +"So!" + +The bedroom door was flung open and Isabel burst excitedly into the +room. + +"There are some horrible men watching the back of the flats," she +cried. "Are they ours?" + +"Perhaps you would like to answer this young lady?" asked Mr. +Torrington. + +But Van Diest only shrugged his shoulders. Isabel ran to the window. + +"And there--down there," she pointed to the street below, "there are +more. What does it mean?" + +The sound of her cries brought the others hurrying into the room. + +"What is it now?" demanded Cassis. + +But Hilbert Torrington was at the telephone. What he actually said +sounded incomprehensible, but what it actually meant to the man who +received it was an order to despatch a dozen men immediately to the +doors of the flats and distribute a sprinkling over the neighbouring +streets. There might be a fight, there probably would. If Barraclough +were seen a body guard was to be formed at once. + +Isabel was repeating her question at the window. + +"Those men! Who are they? What does it mean?" + +It was Cranbourne who had the honesty to reply. + +"Danger!" + + + + +CHAPTER 33. + +A SMASH UP. + +Flora's handling of the old Panhard was beyond praise. Accurate, well +judged and with just enough dash of risk at cross roads or in traffic +to steal an extra mile or two on the average speed per hour. The night +had chilled and Anthony Barraclough, wrapped in his mother's cloak +watched the girl beside him with a queer mixture of admiration and +impatience. Admiration for her faultless nerve and impatience that the +car for all its ancient virtue in no sense could be termed a +speed-monger. Flora's attitude amused him too, it was so tremendously +intense, so devoted to duty and withal so exactingly efficient. There +is no particular reason why it should be so, but it always tickles the +male sense of humour to watch a woman do a man's job as capably as a +man himself could do it. Her conduct when they punctured on the long +stretch between Wimbourne and Ringwood had been exemplary. She jacked +up, changed wheels and was away again in the shortest possible time. +True a little over a quarter of an hour was lost, but the locking ring +had rusted in its thread, as sometimes happens, and it was heavy work +for a girl to shift it unaided. She had forbidden Barraclough to help +and had made him picket a hundred yards down the road in case the +pursuers should come up unexpectedly. + +After that all had gone well--except for a plug sooting on number three +cylinder and a halt for petrol about fifty miles outside London. A +full moon had risen with sundown which lit the countryside brightly, +and made the run almost as easy as by day. + +Only once did Barraclough see the pursuing Ford, two spots of light +visible from the top of the rise threading through the valley five +miles to the rear. Of course, it might have been any other car, but a +kind of second sense convinced him that this was not the case. He did +not confide to Flora what he had seen, but the tapping of his foot on +the floor-board gave her the information as surely as any spoken word. + +She startled him not a little by rapping out the enquiry: + +"How much lead have we got." + +"Five miles." + +"We shall do it. They won't average more than twenty-eight and we're +good for that. Where are we now?" + +"Hogs-back." + +"What's time?" + +"'Bout ten to eleven." + +"Hm! Think they'll shove any obstacles in the way?" + +"Depends," said Anthony. "If they sent a message through it's pretty +certain we may run into a hold up." + +"Going to chance it?" + +"No. We'll slip off the main road at Cobham and trickle in through the +byes." + +"Right oh! tell me when." + +For some miles they drove in silence and once again between Ripley and +Guildford had a glimpse of the following lights. With a considerable +shock Barraclough realised that the distance separating the two cars +had greatly diminished. But hereabouts an unexpected piece of luck +favoured them. At a point where the road narrowed between hedges a +farm gate was thrown open and a flock of sheep was driven out into the +highway. Flora contrived to dash past before the leaders of the flock +came through the gate. Another second and she would have been too +late. Glancing back Anthony observed that the entire road was solid +with sheep, a compact mass that moved neither forward nor backward. + +"Our friends'll lose five minutes penetrating that," he announced +gleefully. + +It did not occur to him until later that every one of those woolly ewes +was an unknowing servant of Hugo van Diest and that their presence in +the road was the direct result of a wire dispatched to a quiet little +man named Phillips who had been given the task of making the way into +London difficult. Mr. Phillips had not had very much time, but he had +done his best. A series of telegraph poles had been cut down outside +Staines, Slough, and at various points along the Portsmouth road. A +huge furniture van with its wheels off obstructed the narrows at +Brentford, and in one or two places wires had been drawn across the +King's highway. + +It was the side turning at Cobham saved them running into one of these +obstacles by a narrow margin of scarcely a hundred yards. Also it was +the side turning, bumpy narrow and twisted that proved their undoing. + +An upward climb, a perilously fast descent, a corner taken a trifle too +fine, a sharp flint, a burst front tyre, and at a point where two roads +crossed the veteran car almost somersaulted into a ditch, wrecked +beyond hope of repair. They were doing forty when it happened and it +was a miracle they escaped with their lives. + +Flora was first to scramble over the tilted side and survey the ruins +of their hopes. Anthony still wrapped in his mother's cloak followed +and shook his head over the extent of the damage. + +"You hurt?" he asked. + +"No. Are you?" + +"I'm all right. What happened?" + +"Front tyre. Wheel fairly kicked out of my hand." + +"It's damn bad luck," said Anthony. + +"Brutal." She bent over and switched off her lights. "What are we +going to do?" + +He looked at a sign-post, knocked crooked by the car when it plunged +off the metal into the ditch. + +"This road leads from Oxshott--London that way. With any luck we might +get a lift." + +"Late for anything to be about." She looked back along the way they +had come. The road could be seen threading its way among pines for a +couple of miles or more. "We shall know they're coming five minutes +before they can get here. Still I suppose you won't wait for them." + +"No fear. Couldn't put up much of a fight with this hand." + +"Pigs," said Flora. "I'd like to kill them." + +"Both sides are pretty lethal. Wouldn't fancy my chances if----" + +"You think they'd----" + +"Course they would. Why in blazes doesn't something roll up? Bet your +life if they can't get the concession for themselves they'll take +precious good care no one else shall profit by it." He paced up and +down looking this way and that. "It was like my infernal conceit +bringing the thing through myself. Anyone but an idiot would have +registered it from Cherbourg. Almost wish we'd stuck to the main road. +There'd have been some traffic there. Damn all motorists who're in bed +tonight." + +Very faintly through the thin night air came the throb of an engine. + +Flora clutched his arm. + +"D'you hear?" + +"They're coming." + +"That's no Ford," she said. "It's coming from over there." And she +pointed toward Oxshott. + +"You're right," said Anthony. "Got your gun--give it to me." + +"What for?" + +"Because that car is going to stop whether it wants to or not." + +Flora clapped her hands ecstatically. + +"Oh, let me hold 'em up," she pleaded. + +"No fear. You've risked enough already. Run round the bend and meet +'em. If they won't pull up for you they will for me." + +He took the pistol from Flora and planted himself squarely in the +middle of the road. + +"Off you go." And she went. + +Through the darkness ahead came patterns of light making black lace of +the twigs and branches. He heard Flora cry "Stop--stop," and the +squawk of a Claxon horn. But still the car came on. It swung round +the curve and made directly for him, flooding him in light from the +heads. + +It wanted some nerve to stand there, but nerve was a quality possessed +by Anthony Barraclough. He never moved an inch and in his left hand +held the pistol levelled at the approaching car. + +"I'll fire," he cried. + +He saw the driver snatch at his brakes, the steel studs tore up the +surface of the road as the car, a small two-seater, came to a +standstill within a foot of where he stood. + +Then happened an amazing thing. A woman sprang out and ran toward him +crying: + +"Anthony--you!" + +His eyes were dazzled by the head lights, but his memory for voices was +not dulled. He leapt back a clear five feet and presented the pistol +full in her face. + +"I know you," he said. "You're Auriole Craven. But if you or any of +that damn crowd try to stop me----" + +"No, no, no," she cried. "I'm with you--not against. What on earth +are you doing here?" + +"Doing? I'd almost done it. Smashed up in the final sprint. I want a +seat in your car. Must get to London tonight." + +"To London. No. It wouldn't be safe--it wouldn't be fair." + +"Fair! You don't understand--don't realise--there are millions of +pounds at stake." + +"I don't care if there are hundreds of millions," she retorted. "The +car is only a two-seater and slow at that. There are two of us already +and----" + +He interrupted her impatiently, with an order to chuck out her +passenger--minor considerations had no weight with him--everything, +everybody must be sacrificed to the need of the moment. + +"Minor considerations?" said Auriole bitterly. "You speak as if you'd +carried the game alone, as far as it has gone. But it was my +passenger--the man you want to chuck out--who made it possible. The +man who was tortured while you were free to----" + +She did not finish the sentence for even as she spoke Richard Frencham +Altar stepped shakily from the car and came toward them. The +extraordinary resemblance between the two men wrung a cry of amazement +from Flora. + +"Barraclough?" said Richard rocking on his heels. "Pretty +extraordinary meeting like this on the finishing straight. How goes?" + +"Good God, man!" said Anthony. "They put you through it." + +"That's all right," said Richard. "Never mind paying a price if you +win the game." + +"Get back into the car," Auriole pleaded. "You'll be caught again." + +But he put her aside. + +"Wait a bit--wait a bit. Looks as if my job isn't finished yet. +What's the trouble here?" and he nodded at the wrecked car. + +It was Flora who poured out the story of the chase and ultimate smash +and at the very moment of explanation the lights of Harrison Smith's +Ford flashed for a moment upon the sky line to reappear a second later +creeping down the avenue of trees on the hillside. + +"Look, look," she cried. + +To Anthony Barraclough it was a novel experience to act on another +man's orders. In that instant of gathering danger Richard Frencham +Altar became captain of the situation. He literally flung Anthony into +the car and refused to listen to Auriole's protests. + +"We're players of a game, aren't we?" he said, "and we're going to play +it to a finish. I think, too, it 'ud do me good to have one clean +smack at 'em before I'm through." + +He hardly knew how it came about that he and Auriole kissed one +another--somehow they found time for that and as the car moved away she +leant out to say: + +"You dear brave wonderful Sportsman." + +Then he and Flora were alone in the road watching the red rear lamp +disappear into the night. + +"You've got some pluck," said Flora. As she helped him into the cloak +that Anthony had thrown aside. "Going to wait and hold 'em up?" + +"May as well. That little two seater would never have carried four. +Got a gun by any chance?" + +"No, he had mine. Didn't he give it to you?" + +"He did not, so that's that. You better make for those trees." + +"If you think I'm going to desert," began Flora stoutly. + +"You're going to obey orders, my dear. Go on--push off." + +There was a quality in his voice that compelled obedience. + +"Oh, I hate you," said Flora. "Please, please let me stay." + +But he was inexorable. + +"They'll be here in a minute. Go!" he ordered. + +And to hide her tears of rage and mortification Flora went. + +Richard glanced over her shoulder at the oncoming lights. + +"Pity about that pistol," he muttered. + +On the road at his feet lay a lady's hand-bag with silk cords. It was +part of the equipment furnished by Mrs. Barraclough. Richard stooped +and picked it up. There was a barrel of tar and a sand heap by the +sign board and it struck him that both might by useful. With all the +speed he could command he rolled the tar barrel up the road and left it +blocking the way. Then he returned to the sand heap and filled the +hand-bag very full and tightened the strings. It felt quite business +like as he spun it in the air. + +The noise of the oncoming Ford was now plainly detectable, but with it +was another sound, a sound that caused him to throw up his head and +listen. From the Oxshott road it came, the tump--tump--tump of a +single cylinder motor cycle engine. He knew that music very well, had +heard it a score of times during his three weeks' imprisonment. The +particular ring of the exhaust could not be mistaken. + +"That's Laurence's bike for a thousand pounds," he exclaimed and +quickly pulled the hood of the cloak over his head. + +To guess at the relative distances, the motor cycle should arrive half +a minute before the car and banking on the chance, Richard sat down on +the heap of sand and waited. + +It was Laurence right enough--in evening dress, and hatless, just as he +had sprung to the pursuit after at last they succeeded in breaking down +the door. + +He saw the wrecked motor and what was apparently an old woman huddled +at the roadside. He pulled up within a couple of yards and shouted at +her. + +"Hi! you Madam! seen a car with a man and a girl in it go by?" + +But he received no answer even when he shouted the question a second +time. The old lady seemed painfully deaf and employing the most +regrettable language, Oliver Laurence descended from his mount, leant +it against the fence and came nearer to yell his inquiry into her ear. +He did not have time to recover from his surprise, when the voice of +Richard Frencham Altar replied: "Yes, I have." The sand-bag descended +on the top of his head directed by a full arm swing. A dazzling +procession of stars floated before his eyes as though he were plunged +into the very heart of the milky-way--flashed and faded into velvet +black insensibility. + +From behind heralded by a beam of light and the squawk of a horn, came +a crash as the Ford Car hit the tar barrel end on. Its front axle went +back ten inches and the rear wheels rose upward. Two shadowy forms, +that were groundlings at another time, took wings and flew in a neat +parabola over the windscreen, striking the metal surface of the road +with a single thud. They made no effort to rise, but lay in awkward +sprawling attitudes as though in the midst of violent activity they had +fallen asleep. + +Richard Frencham Altar stood alone, blinking rather stupidly at the +havoc he had wrought. It was such a relief when Flora stole out of the +shadow of the trees and came toward him. + +"What a shemozzle, isn't it?" he said dazedly. "I think we'd better +get out of this, don't you?" + +He wheeled the motor cycle into the centre of the road and bade her +jump up behind. + +Folks who were returning home late that night were astonished to see a +hatless man with a white unshaved face tearing through the side streets +of the south-west district of London on a motor cycle with a pretty, +but very dishevelled maiden clinging on to the Flapper bracket and +deliriously shouting apparently for no better reason than joy of speed. + +An old gentleman who signed himself "Commonsense" wrote to the papers +about it next day and expressed his disgust in no measured terms. + + + + +CHAPTER 34. + +THE FINISHING STRAIGHT. + +"Gentlemen," said Mr. Torrington. "We have an important decision to +make. Barraclough is on his way home, presumably with the concession +in his pocket. Our opponents have made certain dispositions to prevent +his safe arrival--those dispositions they are prepared to remove in +consideration of a third interest." + +Cassis snorted violently. Actual propinquity with danger, the clash of +mind against mind had in a large measure restored his self-possession. + +"Preposterous," he ejaculated. + +Hilbert Torrington continued. + +"It rests with us to decide whether or no we will accept their terms or +take a chance." + +"Don't forget the chance is Barraclough," cried Cranbourne, then +swinging round on Hipps, he demanded: + +"What are the odds against him?" + +"Steep," was the laconical rejoinder. + +Cranbourne hesitated a bare second. + +"Accept their terms," said he. + +"In favour?" + +"Of course in favour." + +Nugent Cassis shook him by the sleeve. + +"I am heartily opposed to their acceptance. It is absurd to suppose +that Barraclough is unequal to the task we have set him." + +"Against?" queried Mr. Torrington. + +"Emphatically against." + +When it came to Almont's turn to vote his distress of mind was +pathetic. He stood alternatively on one leg and the other. He spoke +of "Jolly old public school traditions." He "doubted if the dear old +sportsman could endure the idea of being protected at such a cost." + +"No, damn it all," he concluded. "Why should we split the prize?" + +"We can't juggle with men's lives," urged Cranbourne. + +"It's insanity to wilt at the last moment," said Cassis. + +Up went Lord Almont's hand. + +"I vote against," he said. + +Rather piteously Cranbourne appealed to his chief. As Chairman of the +board Hilbert Torrington's vote counted as two. + +"It rests with you, sir," he said. + +The old man nodded and a queer smile played round the corners of his +mouth--the smile of a pranky schoolboy. + +"But surely," he said. "No one will doubt the course I shall take. +One must always stand by one's colours. I accept the hazard Against." +He moved a pace or two forward and bowed to Van Diest. "Good-evening, +Gentlemen." + +Until this moment no one had been conscious of Isabel's presence in the +room. She had been a silent agonised spectator, controlled by the +belief that the value of persons would eventually be proved higher than +the value of things. But the cold blooded refusal to protect her lover +at the price of a few paltry millions, appalled her beyond bearing. +She ceased to be a pretty child with a shock of curly hair and was +transformed into a veritable fury. + +"You beasts, you brutes, you torturers!" she cried. "You'd let them +kill him without lifting a hand--you--you, ohh!" + +Van Diest and the American moved toward the door, but she barred the +way. + +"Pick up that telephone. You shall have your price." + +"I can't think you command it," said Hipps. + +"Can't you? Then listen. If you stop them--call off the men that are +after him, you shall be told the map reference of the place where he +found the radium." + +There was a startled murmur from the company. + +"He may have failed to get the concession. If that were so you'd have +an equal chance. Will you call them off if I give you that?" + +"But you can't, my dear," said Torrington gently. + +"And even if you could, you mustn't," snapped Cassis. + +"Mustn't!" There was something magnificent in her scorn. "Why I'd +wreck the whole crowd of you for one sight of him. Here you----" and +she swung round on Ezra Hipps. "Write this down." + +"Bluff," said he. + +"D'you think I'd let the man I love carry a secret I didn't share? +Write this down." + +It was Van Diest who stepped forward with "I take her word. Go on." + +"Brewster's Series 19," cried Isabel. "Map 24." + +Instantly a condition of chaos ruled. Cassis cried to her to stop "for +Heaven's sake." Someone else exclaimed "That European." "It covers +the northern area of----" and "Go on. Go on." Hipps was shouting. To +concentrate in the midst of such a din was almost impossible. She +covered her cars, closed her eyes, to force memory of the words and the +numerals that were to follow. "Square F. North 27. West 33." + +"She's there," cried Hipps, and whipped out a pistol to cover Cassis +who was making for the telephone. + +"No you don't. Stand away." He picked up the instrument and gave a +number. "That Phillips? Clear all roads." + +It was all that Isabel wanted to hear, just those three words which +meant one man's safety at the possible price of a mighty fortune. It +meant nothing to her that the American was calling for "My man with a +suitcase at Charing Cross straight away. I hit this trail myself." +She was not even conscious of a medley of voices in the street below--a +series of cries and shouts--the blast of a police whistle. All this +was without meaning. Consciousness was slipping away and had almost +deserted her when the door was flung open and Anthony Barraclough burst +into the room. He stood an instant, chest out and with eyes feverishly +bright. + +"Sorry I'm late, gentlemen, but I've done the trick--this packet----" +he rocked a little. "By Gad, I believe I'm going to faint." He +tottered forward into Isabel's arms and said--"It's you--how ripping!" +That was all. + +Cassis pushed forward with the words: + +"Has he got it--has he got it?" + +"This is what you want, I suppose," said Isabel, and taking the letter +case from his pocket, threw it on the table. "He's fainted. Help me +get him to his bed." + +Doran and she half carried and half dragged him from the room. + +No one was aware of Auriole, who had entered just behind and stood now +with her back to the wall, biting her lip. After all, when a game is +won, pawns are relatively of little importance--except to themselves. + +"Signed? Registered?" said Van Diest, edging forward. + +Nugent Cassis held the crackling document before his eyes--a Concession +to Millions--and he answered between his teeth: + +"Signed and registered." + +"So," said Van Diest, with unexpected control, "we lose--Finish." But +his hands trembled as he turned away. + +Ezra P. Hipps did not desert his post at the telephone until he heard +those words. Then he snapped viciously, + +"Say, cancel those orders, Phillips--Wash out the lot." + +It was too ridiculous at such a moment to contemplate the price of +victory, but that is precisely what Auriole did. + +"And you've never asked--never given a thought to the real man--the man +who made it possible--who stayed out there on the road while----" She +bit back her tears and turned savagely on Hipps and Van Diest. "Oh, +God," she cried, "if anything has happened to him." + +But nothing had--if you discount a little discomfort bravely borne. He +walked into the room even as she spoke. Dirty he was, dishevelled and +hollow-eyed, a very travesty of his former self. But there was a +spring in his bearing that fires of adversity had failed to rob of its +temper. He entered with a swing, a certain jauntiness--a dash of +_nonchaloir_--pushing his way through the group of astonished +financiers in the doorway and marching up to Van Diest and the American +with a very fine air of "you be damned" about the carriage of his head. + +"Get out," he said, uncompromisingly. "And tomorrow morning I'm coming +down to Charing Cross to see you off by the Continental." + +They both addressed him simultaneously and in very different tones to +the ones he had grown accustomed to during the past three weeks. The +word "cheque" figured largely in their proposals. Richard Frencham +Altar cut them short with: + +"Cheque from you? No, thanks. I'll take the smallest coin in each of +your countries to wear on my watch chain. It'll remind me of my +dealings with two millionaires. That train goes at ten tomorrow +morning." + +Ezra P. Hipps happened to see the light in Auriole's eyes as he and Van +Diest moved toward the door. It was quite unmistakable and from his +point of view, conclusive. He said nothing, however, and they passed +out in silence. + +It is probable that Hilbert Torrington also read a meaning in the +girl's eyes for he was very active in marshalling his forces for +departure. + +"I think, gentlemen," he said, "we might meet tomorrow to discuss our +obligation to Mr. Frencham Altar--an obligation by no means covered by +the small arrangement we made with him." He grasped Richard warmly by +the hand and there was moisture at the corners of his eyes. "What a +splendid boy you are," he said. "Lord, but youth and adventure is a +wonderful partnership, with a dash of romance thrown in as a prize. +It's been a great game--hasn't it? A real tough fight. Great fun. +Good night." + +Even Cassis had something nice to say before they took their leave and +left the man and the girl together. + +Then Richard looked at Auriole and grinned, perhaps because her +expression was so desperately serious. + +"Couldn't you smile at a chap?" he asked. + +She wrapped her cloak around her. + +"You don't understand," she said. "Everything seems good to you at the +moment--even me." + +He shook his head whimsically. + +"Don't say me that piece," he begged. "It sounds horrid. Where are +you going?" + +"I don't belong here," she answered. + +"For that matter, neither do I, but I dare say I could extend my lease +for another half hour--even though it did expire at eleven o'clock." + +She came down and faced him. + +"Listen," she said. "I don't want to be a nuisance to you and I won't +be." + +"You will be if you keep going to that door." + +"I don't even know your name, but if you look at me like that, with +laughter in your eyes--if you play the fool at such a time as this--how +can I possibly keep my resolve." + +"What resolve?" + +"To go away and never come back." + +"Come here," said Richard Frencham Altar, "come here at once." + +"Oh, please," she pleaded. "Honestly, my dear, I'm not up to much and +I know you are going to think I am. Oh, what are you going to do?" + +This because his arms had gone round her and he had raised her chin to +the level of his own. + +"I'm going to start on the greatest adventure of all," he answered. + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Men of Affairs, by Roland Pertwee + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN OF AFFAIRS *** + +***** This file should be named 23757-8.txt or 23757-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/7/5/23757/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Men of Affairs + +Author: Roland Pertwee + +Release Date: December 7, 2007 [EBook #23757] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN OF AFFAIRS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + +MEN OF AFFAIRS + + +BY + +ROLAND PERTWEE + + + + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers + +New York + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY + +ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + + +_PUBLISHED, MAY, 1922_ + +First and Second Printings before publication + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAP. + + 1. Dissolution + 2. Eight Closed Doors + 3. Which Develops an Idea + 4. Sitting on the Floor + 5. Experiences of a Vagrant + 6. Concerning a Tie + 7. The Night of the 27th + 8. Introducing a Lady + 9. An Invitation to Stay + 10. Nerves + 11. Outlining a Programme + 12. Pineapple + 13. Harrison Smith + 14. "Off the Beaten Track" + 15. Tea and Tears + 16. A Hyphen + 17. A Doubtful Ally + 18. Holding Out + 19. At the Chestnuts + 20. A Little Housebreaking + 21. The Cornish Riviera + 22. Plain Sailing + 23. An Encounter + 24. Rival Factions + 25. Mr. Bolt Drops In + 26. Among Allies + 27. A Knotted Kerchief + 28. Sand + 29. Individual Resource + 30. The True Auriole + 31. A Way Out + 32. The Appointed Hour + 33. A Smash Up + 34. The Finishing Straight + + + + +PART I. + + +CHAPTER 1. + +DISSOLUTION. + +At a pawnshop in the Gray's Inn Road, Richard Frencham Altar disposed +of the last of his worldly goods. Four suits from a tailor in Saville +Row, two pairs of shoes in brown and patent by a craftsman of Jermyn +Street, some odds and ends of hosiery, a set of dressing table brushes +with black monograms on ivory and the gold cigarette case Doreen had +given him on the day of their engagement. In consideration for which +he departed with a sum of twenty-seven pounds sixteen shillings in his +trousers pockets. At his rooms in Golden Square he settled his account +with the landlady, a luxury that reduced his wealth by a matter of +nineteen pounds. Of the eight pounds sixteen shillings remaining, five +guineas were placed on one side for the tobacconist who had supplied +him with Gold Flake and the margin transferred to another pocket for +the purpose of one final engagement with the habit of high living. +After that--well time would show. It was futile to speculate upon the +future. He had the clothes he stood up in, the brain and tissue heaven +had provided him with and a spirit unawed by adversity. Many men have +started life with less. + +A neighbouring clock chimed the hour. Too early to dine--besides there +were things to be done first. From a highly decorated vase that stood +upon a particularly restless over-mantel, he drew a small packet of +letters and untied the tape that circled them. They were written in a +careless sprawling hand, with lots of ink and little thought. They +were very full of 'darlings' and 'dearests' and 'how much do you love +me's.' They were very, very rapturous--they were very, very silly. +They had made him very happy when first he read them because silliness +and sincerity are often partners, but now he knew better--now they made +him laugh. Not a very cheerful laugh perhaps--a little cynical maybe +but on the whole tolerant and forbearing. + +He put a match to the first and lit the others in succession one by one +until a charred chain of memories stretched across the tiling of the +grate. The last 'Doreen' straggled scarlet across a black and twisting +page, whitened, greyed and disappeared. + +"And I'll grow a beard and forget all about you," said Richard. "And +it oughtn't to be very difficult really." + +He rose, crossed to the window and looked out. + +"If ever I fall in love again--if ever I earn enough for the luxury of +falling in love again, it won't be with----" but he changed his mind +about finishing the sentence, for, after all, it is folly to speak hard +words against pretty little things that make the world very jolly while +they last. + +Besides Doreen had her way to make like any other girl, and no one can +deny the difference between the son of an exceptionally wealthy and +indulgent parent and the same son after the parental wealth has +exploded and the parental brain has been drilled with a .450 calibre +bullet discharged at a range of two inches from the frontal bone and +making a somewhat unsightly exit by way of the parietal. + +James Frencham Altar, father of Richard, did not believe in failure or +exposure or public obloquy. His lode-star was success and when the +forward speed of success threw out its selectors and went suddenly into +reverse the liquidation of his affairs was conducted by the firm of +Colt and was covered in a single report. Thus ended an ambitious +career. + +Richard had suffered rather heavily under the generosity of his father +whose cherished wish was that his son should be a gentleman and nothing +more. Accordingly Richard had been sent to Eton, Oxford, and round the +world three times. He had been given a racing stable, an enormous +allowance and was instructed to spend as much as he could and enjoy +himself all he knew how. Being a high spirited and obliging young +fellow, Richard did all these things very engagingly, and somehow +contrived not to spoil himself. He emerged from the war with a +Military Cross, a row of service medals, a brace of foreign decorations +and an ambition to do some work. His father appeared to applaud the +ambition but actually discouraged it with specious argument and an +introduction to Doreen--who did the rest. + +Doreen, of course, was a perfect darling. She always bit her lower lip +and she held her arms tight to her sides like a child who has been +naughty. There was no possible excuse to refrain from hugging Doreen. +One just had to and damn the consequences. Doreen would cry after +being kissed and would continue crying until again kissed into an even +frame of mind. Lots of people kissed Doreen because they could not +help themselves and she forgave them all on that account. There never +was such a darling. Richard Frencham Altar, fresh from the wars, +simply wanted to eat her and, seeing that he was a handsome young +fellow with a pleasant aura of gold about him, Doreen arrayed herself +in her most eatable frocks and devourable smiles and just let him. + +"Oh, Dicks," she cried, soon after their engagement--'Dicks' being the +name she called him, for Doreens all the world over adore plurals and +attaching 'S's' to names because it makes them so snakey--"Oh, Dicks, +there's only one teeny-weeny thing I wish." + +"What's that?" he said. + +"I wish you were as poor as poor as poor so I could just love you for +nothing but yourself." + +It was very pleasant hearing, but when a year later he went to her and +confided that he was as 'poor as poor as poor' it transpired she had +only said it for something to say and infinitely preferred young men +who were as rich as rich as rich. + +Discoveries like that are a little apt to revolutionise a man's ideals +even if they fail to destroy them altogether. + +Richard kept his views to himself. He kissed the tearful Doreen for +the last time and she waved a tiny georgette kerchief from the window +as he passed down the street and out of her life. He had not a great +deal of leisure to consider the extent of his loss. The proceedings of +the coroner's court and the importunities of creditors occupied his +days very fully. The chaos of his father's affairs and the winding up +of his own provided ample entertainment. The net result was a +settlement of something less than a farthing in the pound and the +retirement into oblivion of one of the most able spendthrifts of the +twentieth century. He had spent a couple of months looking for work, +but the name Frencham Altar, coupled with his complete inability to +point to a single marketable asset other than courage and a smiling +disposition, conspired together to harden the hearts of employers. Old +friends denied him interviews, business acquaintances turned him from +their doors and the casual advertiser forbore replying to his +enquiries. Of course, if he had been a little less honest he might +very easily have cleaned up a quiet thousand or two from the wreckage +of the estate. His solicitor had demonstrated the absurdity of +Quixoticism in such affairs, but whatever other reproach might be laid +to his account, Richard was no opportunist and lacked the parental +liking for feathering his own nest at the expense of his fellows. +Wherefore the whole of his worldly resources, if we except the courage +and the smile, went into the whirlpool and were swallowed up. + +Richard let the curtain fall across the window and crossed to the +mantelpiece where he touched the bell. It occurred to him that there +was a certain luxury in ringing bells--it was one of many comforts of +civilisation that would pass out of his reach. No one answered the +bell so he rang it again and was quite dispirited to hear footsteps +ascending the stairs. If his connection with bells was to cease it +would have been pleasant to have rung it a few more times. It is an +awful thing to contemplate that you have rung a bell for the last time. +One can get very sentimental over a thing like that. Dear jolly old +bells, what an influence they have upon life. How bravely they whirr +at the arrival of a dear expected--how madly they riot to the tune +Wedding--how sadly they toll when the last of us is borne away. + +Mrs. Walton, the landlady, came into the room and said "Yes." + +"I am going now," said Richard. + +"We shall be sorry to lose you." + +"And I to go. Many thanks, Mrs. Walton." + +"And what is your destination, sir?" + +"I have my eye on a bench facing Green Park," he replied. "It is a +favourite locality for the impecunious philosopher. In other words I +don't know where I'm going but I have a pretty solid conviction that +one of these days I shall get there. There are two empty trunks in my +bedroom which I should be glad if you would accept." + +Mrs. Walton shook her head. + +"You could raise a bit of money on them," she suggested. + +"Maybe," said Richard, "but I don't want to. There are only two kinds +of money that are any use. Regular money or lots of money--a little +money is no good to anyone and is better spent. By midnight tonight I +hope to find myself with none at all." + +"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Walton. + +"That," replied Richard, "is precisely what I am relying upon. And I +could not wish to start on my adventures under a happier ensign. +Goodbye." + +And to the amazement of the lady he hissed her very soundly and +clattered down the stairs. + +At the tobacconist he settled the last of his small accounts, purchased +a hundred cigarettes and hailed a taxi. + +"The Berkeley Grill Room," he said. + +They were a little surprised at the informality of his attire, but +there is something in the bearing of a restaurant habitue that would +procure him the best the establishment can afford even though he +appeared in a bathing suit. + +"Stick me in a corner somewhere," he said, "I have no evening clothes." + +"Monsieur has not had time to dress." + +"I repeat I have no evening clothes, on the other hand I've a deuce of +a good appetite. A brandy cocktail and the book of words, please." + +They were supplied. + +Richard ordered his dinner with a reckless disregard for expenditure +and a nice choice of wine and dishes which earned the appreciation of +those that waited upon him. He finished with a Villa Villa and a +double Napoleon and sat back with folded arms, a pleasant smile and +eyes that drowsed comfortably over the agreeable quiet of the cafe. + +It caused him something of an effort to ask for his bill, dispose of it +with the last of his notes, tip the waiter and rise to his feet. As he +was approaching the swing doors that led to the little hexagonal foyer, +a man at a table near by raised a pair of keen black eyes, glanced at +him quickly, smiled and nodded. The man's face was unfamiliar but +Richard returned the nod casually and passed out. The man half rose +then changed his mind and sat down again. He was a tall man with black +hair threaded with white. His face was large featured but clear cut, +high cheekbones, a Roman nose, a straight, firm mouth and Wellingtonian +side whiskers, his age forty or a little more. His companion at the +table put a question but the man shook his head. + +"I fancy I made a mistake," he said. + +Richard tipped the porter with the last coins in his pocket, a shilling +and five coppers, turned slowly down Berkeley Street and crossed +Piccadilly. He passed the Ritz, of pleasant memory, and entered into +the sleeping apartment of London's destitute--the single bench on the +slope that faces Green Park, gratuitously provided by the generosity of +the City of Westminster. + +There was a constable by the cabman's shelter and him Richard addressed. + +"A fine night, Bobbie," he said. + +The constable agreed that this was so. He did not resent having been +addressed as 'Bobbie.' There was no offence in it and Richard belonged +to that class of individuals with whom familiarity is a cloak for +courtesy. + +"Taking a stroll, sir?" he asked. + +Richard produced his hundred Gold Flake and bade the officer fill his +helmet. + +"Better help me out with a few or I shall be smoking all night," he +said. + +"In trouble, sir?" + +"Broke," said Richard, "and I want your advice. I've had the devil of +a good dinner with the last of my fortune and I'm looking for words of +wisdom. In the first place, how about that bench?" + +"The Rowton is better." + +"Won't run to it." + +"Not to be recommended, p'raps, but it's free to all," said the +constable, nodding at the green seat which was already filling up for +the night, with bundles of rags, voluminous overcoats and thin, shiny +blue serges buttoned at the neck. + +"I don't want to steal a march on the regular custom," observed Richard. + +"It's first come hereabouts, but you'd better not leave it too late. +Anyway you'll get a shake-up when the four o'clock patrol comes on." + +"How's that?" + +"Always give 'em a shake-up at four o'clock. Don't make many odds. +You just get up and sit down again. Takes the cold out of your bones +if it does nothing else." + +"I suppose," said Richard, "I couldn't doss down on that board that's +perched on the two iron standards up towards Hyde Park Comer. It has a +single room touch that I rather fancy." + +The constable shook his head. + +"I couldn't let you," he said, "though there's no particular harm in +it." + +"Then what's it for anyway?" + +"Don't rightly know. They do say it was for the garden carriers to +rest their packs on when they was coming up to market from the outlying +farms. And again I been told that they laid the corpses on it what was +being carried to the plague pits when there was one of these 'ere +epidemics in London. Long while back that 'ud be." + +"Hm," said Richard, "cheery sort of memory. Well I'll take a chance +with the rest. Good night. Oh, by the way, how's one manage about +getting a wash in the mornings?" + +"You goes without." + +"Well, there's a damn thing," said Richard and departed with a nod. + +There was an empty place on the bench but Richard hesitated long before +occupying it. Although no more than a single step it seemed a +tremendous distance from the pavement to the seat. A happy memory of a +similar sensation helped him to take the plunge--it was the trembling +nervousness he had felt on the first day of his commission when he +stood in an agony of suspense outside the anteroom of the officers' +mess and tried to summon up courage to enter. A dark shambling figure +approaching the spot decided him, and having accomplished the feat it +was only to find experience repeating itself. No one took any notice, +not a sunken chin was raised. The sleepers to right and left edged +away a trifle to give him room and continued with their breathy +muttering sleep. + +Richard Frencham Altar lit a cigarette and buried his hands in his +pockets and with the whole future before him to contemplate and with +every vital problem that a man may be called upon to face, he said to +himself, "Now I wonder who that johnny was who nodded to me at the +Berkeley." + +He was still wondering, for want of something better to do, when an +hour later his friend the constable passed slowly by and looked him +over critically. An official report of his observation would have read +as follows:-- + +Height, about five feet nine. Age, thirty odd. Hair, dark with a +disposition to wave. Eyes, brown, merry and set wide apart. Well +marked brows. Nose of medium length and slightly crooked to the left. +Short upper lip. Firm mouth with an upward twist at the corners. A +strong square chin. A habit of holding the head slightly at an angle. +Quick way of speaking and walks with a springy step. Stands with one +hand on his left hip. + +"Doing all right?" asked the constable. + +"Fine," said Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER 2. + +EIGHT CLOSED DOORS. + +As the taxi turned into the station yard from the Euston Road, Anthony +Barraclough unobtrusively opened the offside door and dropped into the +street. A pantechnicon concealed the manoeuvre from the traffic that +followed. His taxi driver was blissfully unaware of his departure. It +would seem a mean thing to have done but Barraclough had pinned a +Bradbury to the vacated seat as a tacit apology. + +On landing in the street he wasted no time and nipped very neatly into +the open back of the pantechnicon. Here he concealed himself until a +stream of a dozen taxis had passed by, and in the pleasant straw +smelling shadows Anthony Barraclough grew a beard in precisely half a +minute by the clock, and a moustache in even less time. It was a nice +beard and a nice moustache, but even so it did not improve his +appearance. He was much better looking without. If you doubt the +statement here is an official report of his looks and bearing, by means +of which you may judge for yourself. + +Height, about five feet nine. Age, thirty-four. Hair, dark with a +disposition to wave. Eyes, brown and set wide apart. Well marked +brows. Nose of medium length and slightly crooked to the left Short +upper lip. Firm mouth with an upward twist at the corners. A strong +square chin. A habit of holding the head slightly at an angle. Quick +way of speaking. Walks with a springy step. Stands with one hand on +his left hip. + +Compare this description with one printed in the foregoing chapter and +a certain peculiar resemblance may suggest itself. The absence of the +word 'merry' in the latter as applied to the eyes must not be mistaken +for a careless omission, but rather as a piece of keen observation in +physiognomy. These things are very important. + +Having pressed his cheeks until the wax warmed and adhered, Anthony +Barraclough threw a leg over the tailboard and alighted on the +pavement. Scarcely a soul bothered to glance his way. At a smart walk +he made for the tube station, bought a ticket at the twopenny machine +and entered the lift. In the passages below he made a circular tour, +entered an ascending lift and reappeared in the street. A 'bus was +passing which he entered and travelled in for a few hundred yards. +Then he got out and hailed a taxi and two minutes later was at the +booking office of St. Pancras Station. As he was reaching for his note +case a man in the queue behind him observed, vaguely, as though +addressing the air: + +"Pity to waste the money, Mr. Barraclough. Much better go home and be +reasonable." + +He returned the note case to his pocket and stepped out of the queue. +A sudden inflammation of anger surged to his cheeks and his brows came +down hard and straight. + +The individual who had spoken was apparently absorbed in a copy of +_Answers_. + +"It is annoying, isn't it?" he remarked sweetly. + +And then it was that Barraclough did a very stupid thing. He measured +the distance speculatively between his own fist and the man's jaw and +upper cut to the point as neatly as you could please. It happened so +quickly that the onlookers thought the man had fallen from sickness. +Barraclough was gone when they helped him to his feet. He was in a +taxi speeding out of the yard. + +"Drive north as fast you can go," he had shouted. + +A loafer, standing by the station gates, who had witnessed his hurried +entry into the cab, lounged in front as it was passing out. The driver +swore and slammed on his brakes but the loafer took his own time and +chances. The speed of the taxi fell almost to a walking pace. The +loafer caught the nearside canopy stay with his right hand and slung +his knee on to the projecting end of the rear wing. From there he +mounted to the roof of the cab, keeping his legs clear of the side +windows. It was quite a dexterous performance, and after all, what was +against it? The fare for two is the same as for one and the poor must +travel. So hugging his knees and smiling he sat on the battens of the +luggage rack and congratulated himself, while within Anthony +Barraclough was tapping with his foot and feeling very angry indeed. + +And if you are interested to know why, here is the reason. The little +affair that occurred at St. Pancras booking office was a repetition of +seven similar incidents within the last twelve hours. By seven +different routes he had endeavoured to get out of London and in every +instance had been headed back. It had started with the affair on the +Croydon train and the woman who fainted in his arms. Then there was +the car on the Portsmouth road that had been crashed into by another at +the top of Kingston Hill. Victoria, Charing Cross, Waterloo and +Liverpool Street. It seemed to make no difference at all where he +tried, the result was always the same. The little contretemps at +Rotherhithe when he tried to board a tug was a sufficiently unpleasant +experience for one day. A man gets out of the habit of being shot over +after two years of peace and the memory of the little chips of flying +woodwork flicked from the bows of the dingy as he had pulled out into +the river was distinctly discouraging. Whoever fired the shots had a +pretty knack with a rifle. It was the whirr of a bullet just over his +head persuaded him to put back to port. After that the firing ceased. +As he dragged the almost foundering dingy on to the mud a fast motor +launch went scurrying down stream with a man on deck who shouted, "Go +home." + +But Anthony was not the type of man to turn back. Opposition sterned +his resolve. Besides he had a pretty sure conviction that they did not +mean to kill him. Very much the reverse. Were he to be dying of a +sickness he felt certain they would dispatch to his bedside the finest +physicians of the land. The problem was how to escape their unwelcome +attentions and so far it had proved a problem without solution. + +They were speeding along the Caledonian Road when the driver leaned out +to ask where he should drive. The man on the top of the cab caught the +answer "Hendon Aerodrome" and smiled because he admired a tryer. + +"Better wait till we get to a quieter part," he reflected. + +The taxi proceeded until at last the houses of Golders Green ran out +into the fields near The Welsh Harp. Then very cautiously he spread +out at full length and reached out his hand for the knee joint of the +hood stay. The one on the right broke easily but the left was stiffer +and bit his finger as the joint gave. He had already loosened the +little clip hooks that secured the hood frame to the permanent +structure. There was room for a knife blade where the frames united +and they had slipped back easily. Holding the hood in position with +his left hand the adventurous passenger produced a neat automatic with +his right. Then he gave the hood a shove and presented the pistol at +Barraclough's head. And since it is not in the realms of common +occurrence for the tops to fly off cabs and reveal armed desperadoes no +one will blame Barraclough for the views he expressed upon the subjects. + +"Keep sweet," said the loafer in a very agreeable tone of voice when +Barraclough had exhausted his first inspiration. "And if you'll keep +your hands in your lap I'll come and sit beside you." + +Never for an instant while this agile individual transferred himself +from the roof of the cab to the interior did the caressing muzzle of +the pistol waver from its mark. + +"Sorry to be a nuisance," he observed as he settled himself beside +Barraclough, "but I'm afraid you'll have to tell this joker to turn +back. Golders Green Tube Station will do nicely." + +And while Barraclough was leaning forward to comply with the +instructions he very neatly removed a Harrington and Richardson from +his unhappy victim's pocket. + +"Just to be on the safe side," he remarked as he transferred it to his +own. "You'll be getting a bit peevish maybe and might lose your sense +of proportion after such a busy day." + +"Tell me this," said Barraclough. "How many of you are there in this?" + +"My dear chap, I don't know--hundreds I expect." + +"Hm!" said Barraclough. "Well, I'm going home to bed." + +"Sensible fellow and I'll see you get there safely." + +They alighted at Golders Green Station where the driver was equally +amazed by his open cab and the extra passenger. + +"No, no, this is on me," said the loafer and handed out a couple of +notes. + +In the station he nodded to several men in a friendly fashion and +repeated the performance to some others as they sat side by side in the +tube carriage. He rather flattered himself on the inspiration that +suggested this performance, for, as a fact, everyone of them was a +stranger. + +"Thought it safer to come home this way," he said to establish the +point more firmly. "I felt a bit lonely with you in that cab." + +They parted at the doors of Crest Chambers, W., where Barraclough had a +flat. + +"By the way, any message for Mr. Van Diest?" + +"You can tell him to go to the devil," said Anthony Barraclough. + +"Right, I will. I say, if you feel a bit neglected during the night +don't worry, there are plenty of us knocking about in the street below +and we shan't desert you." + +Barraclough smiled grimly. + +"You seem a genial sort of ass," he said. "Care for a drink?" + +"No, thanks. I must toddle along and make my report." He hesitated. +"But I would like to know what all this is about." + +"So would a good many other people," said Barraclough and pressed the +third floor button of the electric lift. + + + + +CHAPTER 3. + +WHICH DEVELOPS AN IDEA. + +The meeting of the directors had been arranged to take place at Lord +Almont Frayne's house in Park Lane. Nugent Cassis was first to arrive. +It was part of his scheme of life to be five minutes early for +appointments. He nodded to the man-servant, crossed to the fire and +rubbed his thin hands before it. + +"I expect his lordship will be down directly," said the servant. + +"Do you?" said Cassis and that was all. + +A precise, erect, parchmentlike person was Nugent Cassis, entirely +colourless in himself and his outlook. The emotions of life never for +an instant affected him. He was apparently insensible to pain, +passion, triumph and disaster. His brain worked at one unvarying speed +with clocklike regularity. He was always efficient, he was never +inspired. He believed in himself and his judgments and doubted +everyone else and their judgments. He was a machine, self-contrived, +for the purpose of making money, which he had no capacity for spending. +He could carry in his head the entire overnight market quotations and +invariably did so. He seldom made a mistake and never admitted the +mistakes he made. His transactions were honest because his knowledge +of the law was unrivalled and he knew to a hair how close to the wind a +man might sail. As he never wasted a moment he occupied the time of +waiting, in ringing up his broker and firing a barrage of instructions. +This done he returned to the fireplace, consulted his own watch, +corrected the mantelpiece clock which was a minute and a half slow, +sniffed critically and proceeded to warm his hands again. There was +nothing spontaneous in the action, warming his hands was as much a part +of his daily programme as reading the _Financial Times_, the two +minutes he spent lying flat on his back after lunch, or the single +round of golf which he played every third Sunday throughout the year. + +The clock was striking eleven when Mr. Hilbert Torrington, a bent, +bald, clean shaven man of eighty years, entered on the arm of the +servant. Mr. Torrington, his age claims the prefix, was a different +type to Cassis. He possessed a pair of blue eyes that might have +belonged to a child and the expression of his face, a face threaded +with a thousand wrinkles, was sweet and calm. People who saw him but +had no intimate knowledge of his powers, marvelled that this frail, +kindly, stooping old man, with his look of innocence that was almost +sublime, could in reality be a giant in the world of money. Such was +the case. Mr. Hilbert Torrington had his fingers on the financial +pulse of the world and at a pressure could accelerate or decelerate it, +to suit his mood. Unlike Cassis, Mr. Torrington had time for +everything. When he worked he worked instantaneously, achieving in an +hour work that would have kept a less remarkable man busy for a month. +After one of these flashes he would relapse into pleasant gardens where +he grew roses, or pleasant galleries where he looked with eyes of +understanding into the heart of pictures. Sometimes he amused himself +by playing with urchins in St. James's Park and on one occasion had +been seen to divest himself of his coat to supply the wickets for an +informal cricket match. When asked why he bothered to take part in the +rack and strain of high finance he gave the amiable reply: + +"Because it's such fun." + +The servant piloted him to a high elbow chair and helped him to be +seated. + +"Thank ye," said Mr. Torrington. "And if you'll put a side table +alongside I'll try a new patience. No, don't bother to tell me your +master won't be long, I know that bit by heart." + +He unwound a silk comforter from his neck, hung it over the arm of the +chair and produced from his pocket a small pack of cards. + +"Cold, Cassis?" + +"I was cold," replied Cassis exactly. + +"Hm! Fine growing weather, this." + +He began to lay out the cards in neat little packs. + +"Bulbs are coming through nicely. I was hoping to spend a day or two +in the garden but I'm afraid not--'fraid it won't be possible." + +Cassis put his hands behind his back. + +"This business," he said. + +"Yes." + +Lord Almont Frayne, a rather resplendant young man of thirty, came into +the room with all the bounce of youth. His chin shone from a ten +minutes' old shave, his hair clove to his head like fresh laid paint +and the crease in his trousers was razor edged. + +"Most awfully sorry, dear hearts," he exclaimed in clamourous apology. +"Deuce of a late night at Thingumy's ball. Do excuse." + +From which the reader may assume that his lordship was a bit of an +ass--but no. Under the ecstatic exterior of twentieth century modern +man-about-townism there existed in the composition of Lord Almont many +of the shrewd qualities that had made his father one of the richest +bankers in England. People in the know would assure you it was not +only luck that had kept the parental millions secure and had even +increased them after the old gentleman's decease. Lord Almont had a +sense of the market and his intelligence was not entirely devoted to +matters sartorial. + +"Anybody have anything? No. Too early? Infernally hot in here. Mind +if we have a window up?" + +Cassis was only just in time to lodge an objection. + +Lord Almont pointed to the street. + +"Here comes old Cranbourne bobbing along. Shall we wait?" + +Mr. Torrington continued playing his patience game until Cranbourne was +announced. And if you are interested to know what manner of man +Cranbourne might be then turn to the description of the diner at the +table near the door in the Berkeley Cafe. As to his associations with +these other gentlemen it remains only to be said that he was a supplier +of ideas and occasionally of ideals. + +"Anybody know anything?" said Lord Almont. + +Cassis shrugged his shoulders negatively. + +Mr. Torrington put down a card. + +"Waste of time," he said. "Waste of time. Barraclough will never get +out of London by ordinary ways. It was a useless attempt." + +"Well, we don't know." + +"He hadn't got through at ten thirty last night," said Cranbourne. "He +was dining at the Berkeley Grill. 'Course he might have had a shot +later." + +"Did you speak to him?" + +"No--just nodded. Billings tells me he was shot at when he tried to +make the tug on the river." + +"The boat was shot at, you mean," said Cassis. + +"Anyone rung him up this morning?" asked Mr. Torrington. + +"No, it was arranged we shouldn't." + +"Then he's sure to be here soon." + +The remark was prophetic for as the words were spoken Barraclough was +announced. + +"No good," he said. + +"You look tired, Barraclough," observed Mr. Torrington, who thought +about men as well as money. + +"Am a bit." + +"Did you try to make Hendon?" + +"Did I try? Yes, I tried and travelled a Wild West shooting man on the +lid of the cab who worked a hold up by The Welsh Harp. Far as I can +see there must be hundreds out to prevent me." His mouth hardened. +"But I'm going to do it. I mean to do it somehow." + +Mr. Torrington smiled sweetly. + +"Ardent young man," he said. + +Cassis put his finger tips together and remarked: + +"Recklessness is a luxury we can't afford." + +"I'm prepared to take chances," said Barraclough. + +Mr. Torrington quoted: + + "'On the sand drift, on the veldt side, in the fern scrub we lay. + That our song might follow after by the bones on the way.'" + + +"That's all very well," said Cassis sourly, "but our sons won't be able +to follow after so long as Barraclough obstinately determines to keep +the secret entirely to himself." + +"Pooh! pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Torrington. "That was understood." + +"It was," said Barraclough and swivelled round to face Cassis. "I've +said frankly that until I get the concession no one but myself will be +told the map reference. That's absolute." + +Cassis sniffed. + +"It was a pity you didn't get the concession when you made the +discovery." + +"You know quite well that I wasn't sure. A false move might have +brought every prospector in the world to the place--would have done. +Besides with all this post-war territorial shuffle it was pretty nearly +impossible to say which government actually owned the land. Been jolly +if we'd got a title too soon and from the wrong people." + +"But the territorial point has been cleared up now, hasn't it?" Cassis +put the question shrewdly. + +Barraclough shut up like a clam and made no answer. + +Lord Almont butted in. + +"Still you're pretty confident of getting the concession if you manage +to get clear." + +Barraclough nodded. + +"If I can slip through and they don't stop me I'll be back with the +whole thing settled in three weeks from the hour of starting." + +"And during those three weeks," said Cassis sourly, "Van Diest and his +crowd will subject us to an intensive course of financial buffeting. +As matter of fact he has begun already." + +"Well, it was no fault of mine the other side knew anything about it," +said Barraclough. "If your confidential secretary had kept his mouth +shut----" + +"There is no use in discussing that," said Cassis. + +Mr. Torrington swept the cards into a heap and shuffled them to and fro +like a cook making pastry. + +"Getting very active is Van Diest," he remarked. "Not a good loser, +poor fellow. Quite set his heart on getting into our little syndicate. +Started unloading American Rails yesterday afternoon--broke the market +badly. I had to reciprocate by selling Dutch Oils. Our losses on the +day were about equal." + +Lord Almont remarked that his broker had rang him up to tell him of a +fuss. Had no idea Van Diest was at the back of it. Cost him about ten +thousand but he held on. + +"Quite so and it's all very well if we are going to get a return for +our losses," said Cassis. "But so long as Barraclough is held by the +heels we become a mere kicking post for the opposition. Not good +enough." + +"Any suggestions?" said Barraclough. + +"Yes. I suggest under the seal of confidence you inform us of the +exact location of this field and we dispatch a trustworthy servant to +carry out the necessary negotiations." + +Barraclough remained silent. + +"If you refuse to adopt that view all I can see for it is either to +drop the whole thing or to let Van Diest come in and split the profit." + +For one instant the placid blue eyes of Mr. Torrington were lit with a +shiny white fire. + +"Van Diest will not be in this, Cassis," he said. + +"But look here, dear old Mr. Torrington," Lord Almont exclaimed. +"Surely you agree that Barra ought to give us his trust." + +The old man smiled whimsically. + +"Think so?" he said. + +"I mean to say, we're not the kind of people to take advantage of a +man." + +"Nonsense! Of course we are," came the answer. + +"That's honest," Barraclough laughed. + +"Not at all, my dear boy, it's a confession of dishonour of which I am +heartily ashamed." + +Cassis could not leave the subject alone. Tenacity was one of his +strong points. + +"Suppose you were killed," he suggested. "The secret would be lost for +all time. And where should we stand?" + +"Several degrees better than myself," was the answer. "You'll come out +with your lives." + +"That's not the point. Our involvement is equivalent to yours. Your +risk is physical, ours financial, and of the two, in my own opinion----" + +"I know," Barraclough cut in. "Our views are opposed about that. I +made the find and as soon as I have turned it into actual possession, +you will have the chance to exploit it, but until----" + +"Yes, but half a shake, old son," said Lord Almont. "How about the +marvellous healing properties--all the jolly old hospitals we were +going to endow. One doesn't want to be a dog in the manger." + +Barraclough grinned. Whatever other qualities Nature had bestowed upon +the ebullient peer philanthropy was not outstanding. + +"I notice in this argument," he said, "money came over the horizon +before the hospitals showed their smoke." + +"Then deposit the map reference in a safe place so we can get hold of +it if you break up." + +"And where it will be at the mercy of the first man with a jimmy and a +blow lamp. No, thanks." + +There are certain types of stubbornness that increase in direct ratio +to the pressure applied. To this type Barraclough belonged. He had +yet to find the man who could induce him to talk against his will. +Woman? Ah, that's a different matter. The argument took an angry turn. + +"It occurs to me," said Mr. Torrington sweetly, "it was a pity I +deserted my greenhouses this morning. We remain _in statu quo ante_." + +A reproach from Mr. Torrington seldom failed to reach its mark. + +"I'm sorry," Barraclough apologised, "but I give you my solemn word +that somehow I'll win you the purse." + +"The purse," Mr. Torrington smiled. "One almost forgets the purse in a +case like this. It is eclipsed by the will to succeed. Adventure! +The one thing of which old people never tire." + +And then it was that Cranbourne who, curled up in the window seat with +his chin resting on his knees, had taken no part in the debate, made +his first observation. + +"If Barraclough is to succeed it will have to be in the next three +days. At midnight on the 27th he is going to be kidnapped." + +All eyes turned upon Cranbourne as he made this announcement. + +"How the devil do you know that?" exclaimed Barraclough. + +Nugent Cassis answered the question. + +"We have our private information bureau in the opposite camp." + +"Ah! Anyone I know?" + +"That's immaterial." + +"I think I deserve your confidence." + +"Have you given us yours?" + +Barraclough lit a cigarette. + +"Oh, very well," he said. "So I'm to be kidnapped." + +"At twelve precisely," Cranbourne nodded. "In the course of the next +three days Van Diest will try the persuasion of bribes and failing +success you disappear, my friend, for a short inquisition." + +Barraclough shut his fists tight. + +"By God," he said. "So that's the way of it. Three days, what! I'll +break through that damned ring if it kills me." + +"I wonder," murmured Mr. Torrington. "Quite a lot I wonder. Still +it's great fun. Don't do anything in a hurry. Three days is a life +time. Take my advice, go and sit with your girl and calm down." + +"Good idea, I will. We shall meet again?" + +"Surely." + +"Au revoir then." + +As Barraclough moved toward the door Cranbourne spoke. + +"Why did you pass me by at the Berkeley last night?" + +Barraclough wrinkled his forehead perplexedly. + +"The Berkeley?" + +"Yes, about ten thirty." + +"At ten thirty I was plugging a man in the jaw at St. Pancras Station." + +Cranbourne sprang to his feet. + +"Honest?" he cried. + +"Honest." + +"And you never went to the Berkeley?" + +"Nowhere near it." + +A light of wild enthusiasm leapt into Cranbourne's eyes and he brought +his hands together with a loud report. + +"Got it," he cried. "Got it! Oh, what an idea!" + +"What's up with you?" + +The enthusiasm came under control but his voice still trembled. + +"It's all right, gentlemen, I can see a way. With any luck we'll +succeed. Don't do anything until eleven o'clock on the night of the +27th. I'm going to try and find someone." And he made for the door. + +"But hang it all," Lord Almont shouted, "be a bit more explicit." + +Cranbourne turned. + +"Have you missed it," he said. "Then here's something to think about. +Suppose Van Diest kidnaps the wrong man." The door slammed behind him. + +Mr. Torrington laid a card on the table with careful deliberation. He +was smiling. + +"Great fun," he murmured to himself. + + + + +CHAPTER 4. + +SITTING ON THE FLOOR. + +When Anthony Barraclough left the Mansions he walked up Park Lane and +turned into Green Street. Before a house with a white front door he +stopped and attacked the knocker. He was admitted by a parlourmaid and +informed that Miss Irish was in the boudoir. This was good news because +it meant sitting on the floor and lovers all the world over are at their +happiest when they sit on the floor. There is something soothing and +familiar about it. A man loves to sprawl and a woman is always at her +best curled up among cushions. It is impossible to be disagreeable when +you are sitting on the floor. You couldn't conceivably have a row in +that position. Perhaps a little sulking might be done but very little +and only of the kind that provokes pleasant makings-up. Altogether it is +a jolly fine institution and the world would be a better place if there +was more of it. + +In the opinion of Anthony Barraclough no one sat on the floor so divinely +as Isabel, and to tell the truth he rather fancied himself as her floor +partner. + +"Don't you bother," he said to the maid. "I'll make my own way up." + +He handed over his hat and stick and mounted the stairs and knocked at a +door on the second floor. + +"May I come in?" he asked and did not wait for the reply. + +Isabel was built in among a nest of squabs and cushions that circled the +tiny grate. + +"Nice!" she said with a grin. "I was beginning to think you were +deserting me. Rang up three times yesterday I did." + +"Awful busy I was," he returned and disposed himself luxuriously beside +her. Then he said 'Please' and had every reason to say 'Thank you' only +he preferred to express it otherwise. + +"What you been doing?" + +"Trous-sewing," she answered nodding at a small basket decorated with +silk fruit and overflowing with pieces of flimsy needlework. "But I've +been dull. Where were you yesterday?" + +"All over the place. North, south, east and west and the nor'-nor's and +the sou'-sou's into the bargain. It was a hectic day." + +Something in the forced gaiety of his voice made her look at him +critically. + +"Anything wrong?" he asked. "I know I'm not handsome but----" + +"I don't know yet," she continued looking, "but you've a kind of flat +look at the corners of your eyes where the fun ought to be." + +"Now what on earth do you mean by that?" + +"A lot. Tony! Almost you've got the----" + +"Well?" + +"The money face." + +"Money face?" + +"Um! You mustn't laugh, it's a dreadful face. Daddy had it. He caught +it during the rubber boom and it never went away. Are you still doing +things with that beastly syndicate, Tony?" + +"Here, chuck it," he implored humorously. "We're sitting on the floor, +you know. 'Tisn't fair." + +But her expression remained very grave. + +"I sometimes believe," she said, "you think that's all I'm good for. You +don't talk to me as I want you to talk. I'm not always sitting on the +floor, Tony. It's lovely at times, but other times I'm different. +I'm--oh, I'm a bit of a surprise really." + +"What is it you want to know?" + +"I want to be told what you're doing 'cos I've a funny feeling it +isn't--oh! I don't know." + +"You extraordinary child. It's perfectly all right. Rather important, +that's all. There's nothing for you to bother about. I was going to +tell you because I shall have to be away for three weeks and I +thought----" + +"Three weeks? But we were going to be married on----" + +"Yes, that's rotten part. Still the invitations haven't gone out--and if +we were to put it off ten days to be on the safe side----" + +"Our wedding!" she said. + +"I wouldn't have had it happen for the world. It's frightful bad luck +but----" + +Isabel drew up her knees. Very little and lovely she looked. Her big +brown eyes were open wide and her lower lip was drawn in. A shock of +chestnut hair framed the sweet oval of her face. Tony had said she was +like a serious angel and he was right. + +She nodded twice. + +"It must be very important," she said, "if we have to postpone our +wedding. I see." + +"You don't see," he said edging closer to her. "You can't because I +haven't wanted to worry you with details, but it is important--enormously +important." + +"More important than I am?" + +"'Course not." + +"Yet it takes you away from me." + +"Only for a little while--and look, dear, I don't want you to tell anyone +I'm going." + +"Why not?" + +"Because--well, it mustn't be known." + +"Tony, is--is what you have to do dangerous?" + +He answered evasively. + +"What I have to do--no." + +"Then let me come too. We could be married first. I don't want a +fashionable wedding. Let's do that." + +He hesitated. + +"Couldn't be done, dear. It wouldn't be----" + +"Safe?" + +"Practicable." + +"You don't trust me." + +"Of course I trust you," he said putting his arms round her. "I've +trusted you from the moment we first met and I'm going on trusting you +all the rest of my life. Isn't that good enough?" + +"Not nearly," she answered and rose to her feet. + +"Isabel," he said very seriously. "When I tell you that there are huge +interests at stake--that all this is for something that--that defeats +imagination, surely you will take my word." + +She pressed a finger to her chin. + +"Huge interests means money." + +"It does," he replied, "but money on a colossal scale--illimitable. +Doesn't that appeal to you?" + +"No," she said. "I've all I want and you're well enough off. What's the +good of more?" + +"Just listen," he said. "If I bring off this deal there is no wish in +the world one couldn't gratify, and bring it off I shall." + +He started to pace up and down the narrow floor space of the tiny room, +his hands opening and shutting and a light of enthusiasm dancing in his +eyes. It was not the money face he wore as he spoke but the expression +of the man of deeds, the man who joyed in accomplishment, in vanquishing +difficulty, in facing long odds, buoyed up and carried along by the will +to win. + +"You can't understand, my dear, all this means to me and will mean to +you. I haven't even imagined it myself. Think! We could buy islands, +build hospitals, govern nations if the mood prompted us. And all for +three weeks' work. Lord, it's--Oh! if I could make you see how big it +is--how magnificent." + +And womanlike she responded, + +"I want you, Tony, the rest only frightens me." + +"Forget the money," he said, "and bear this in mind. If I succeed the +world will be richer by a tremendous healing force." + +"A medicine?" + +"Call it a medicine. It's lying out in the open within a little march of +the common ways of men and women. I tumbled on the find by a stroke of +luck and a little knowledge and a word inside me that whispered, 'Look, +go and look.' You've read Kipling's 'Explorer'--I read it you. +'Something lost behind the ranges--something hidden, go you there.' It +was like that with me--a pringly feeling--a kind of second +sense--expectancy--belief--certainty. Nature has a trick of showing the +combination of her treasure safe to one man before the rest--and I was +the man." + +The little chestnut head shook helplessly from side to side. + +"What is it you've found?" said Isabel. + +He looked at her searchingly and hesitated. + +"If I tell you you'll keep it secret?" + +"Yes." + +"Honest?" + +"Honest." + +He dropped his voice. + +"It's radium," he said. + +She repeated the word dully. + +"Radium as it never had been found before. A--whew! an inexhaustible +supply. Look--look here!" + +He drew from his pocket a small black cylinder with a glass peephole at +the top, protected by a circular cap of a dark substance. + +"It's the finest piece of radium ever found," he said, "and where I got +it, at a single dip of the shovel--but never mind that. See, protect it +with your hand so, and look through that eyehole." + +At the bottom of the cylinder was a luminous speck like a fire seen from +a long way off. Waves and jags of angry light burst from it ceaselessly, +this way and that. The restless mass was alive, active, burning. +Infinitesimal though its dimensions were it gave a sense of illimitable +force and power, a prodigious energy. + +Isabel returned the cylinder with a nervous shudder. + +"I don't like it," she said. "It--it's horrid somehow--wicked looking." +She shot a quick glance at him. "You say this is going to be of value to +the world!" + +He nodded. + +"Then why are you in danger? Why aren't you protected as someone who-- +Why are you in danger?" + +He didn't answer at once and again she repeated the question. + +"It's this way, dear," he said. "When anything great enough is +discovered there is bound to be competition. I found the stuff but I +haven't the capital to exploit it. I took my samples to a ring of +financiers who are backing me." + +"Mr. Torrington? Mr. Cassis?" + +"Cranbourne--Frayne--that crowd. By sheer bad luck another ring got news +of what was going on and are moving heaven and earth to get a share in +the plunder." + +"So it's plunder now," she said. + +"From their point of view." + +"And from yours?" + +"Achievement--a game." + +"That you're willing to risk your life for." + +"One doesn't think of that," he answered. + +"I do," she said. + +"Wish I could give you some of my enthusiasm. What is it old Kipling +says again: + + 'The game is more than the Player of the Game + 'And the ship is more than the crew.'" + + +"Old Kipling, as you call him, wrote for men. What did he know about +_me_?" + +"Enough to guess you wouldn't have much use for us if we shirked standing +our chances." + +"The chances being?" + +"The assault or favour of the other side." + +"Favour?" she repeated. + +Barraclough nodded and took from his pocket a folded sheet of notepaper. + +"Listen to this," he said and read: "'Dear Mr. Barraclough, if you would +grant me ten minutes private conversation, at your own convenience, I +should be pleased to reward the courtesy with a sum of twenty-five +thousand pounds. Faithfully yours, Hugo Van Diest.' And that's only +ground bait." + +"Did you meet him?" + +"No fear." + +Isabel rubbed her forehead perplexedly. + +"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't understand. But if this radium +belongs to your side already----" + +"That's just it," he explained. "I haven't got the concession yet. They +know that--it's what makes 'em so devilish active. You'll understand +they'll do their best to prevent me getting to the place." + +Her eyes opened very wide. + +"Their best? D'you mean they'd----" + +"Lord, no. There'd be no point in that unless they had the map reference +first." + +"You'll be gone three weeks?" + +"That's all." + +"They'll follow you?" + +"You bet they'll try." + +"Suppose they got you! Tony! _Tony_, they might try and make you speak." + +He did his best to calm her but she went on furiously. + +"It's true. Men are brutes--vile beasts--where money is concerned. Oh, +I hate this--hate every bit of it. Power--healing--it's only another +name for the money grab--the horrible cutthroat money grab. Tony, you +shan't go--I won't let you go--I'll prevent you by every means----" + +"Now, my dear," he begged, putting his arms about her, "be a good +sensible little girl--be a baby for three weeks. You've all your +trousseau to get--heaps of people to see. Why not run over to Paris for +a week? Then there's my mother in Devon. She'd be tremendously bucked +if----" + +"Is this place abroad?" said Isabel. + +"I can't tell that even to you." + +"When are you starting?" + +"Probably in three days' time--latish." + +"You're determined to go?" + +"I must." + +"Nothing I can say will prevent you?" + +"I'm sorry, dear." + +"Hm!" said Isabel. "Then I suppose we'd better make the most of the time +that's left." + +And very slowly she subsided on the Cushion pile in the corner, her chin +resting on his shoulder and her left hand playing idly with a long gold +tassel. + +"Oh, you angel," he exclaimed, "I knew you wouldn't really make any +difficulties. And there's no need to be frightened because they're +fixing me up the easiest get-away in the world." + +"I haven't promised anything," she answered noncommittally. Her eyes +flashed up to his and in them shone the sweetest light imaginable. "But +just for now I'm sitting on the floor again." + +They forgot all about lunch. + + + + +CHAPTER 5. + +EXPERIENCES OF A VAGRANT. + +Richard Frencham Altar awoke betimes--as a fact he had been disturbed +when the four o'clock patrol came round but subsequently slept for +another spell. In the shuffle up he had changed the order of his +companions and as he opened his eyes for the second time he found himself +beside an old lady, generously skirted and shawled, who wore a hat from +which the bare quills of several ostrich feathers pointed this way and +that in raffish confusion. In her lap was a sack containing her various +possessions. Richard watched dreamily as she emptied its contents upon +the pavement and sorted them out in some kind of order. The proceeding +was vaguely reminiscent of a barrack room kit inspection. So far as he +could judge she was separating wardrobe from larder, the two having +become painfully confused during the preceding day's march. To one +inexpert in such matters it would have been hard to decide which was +eatable and which wearable, and Richard observed the operation with a +mixture of amusement and disgust. Having discovered her breakfast and +selected a piece of rag to act as napkin, tablecloth, and subsequently a +face towel, the old lady restored the remainder of her effects to the +'valise' and fell to. Noticing Richard was awake she addressed him in a +singularly soprano voice. + +"I'm up a bit early today," she remarked and added "Lovely air, isn't it?" + +The unexpected aestheticism of the remark robbed him of speech. Ho had +looked for mutterings or execrations but instead here was amiability and +appreciation overriding adversity. A powerful desire possessed him to +shake hands with his new acquaintance, but he did not risk it, being +unacquainted with the proper etiquette of the benches. Recovering his +composure he agreed about the pleasant quality of the air and threw in a +word of praise for the sparrows. + +"Dear little things," said the old lady over the grey crust to which she +was applying a single tooth. Having gnawed off a corner she threw a +glance at him. "Just come down?" she questioned. + +Richard nodded. + +"My first night," he said, "and I've rarely spent a better, though I +confess I should enjoy a shave and a wash." + +"There's a bit of mirror in the tobacconist," she nodded over her +shoulder. "I often freshen up in front of it when the mood takes me. +Many's the hat I've changed before that glass. But then I don't bother +much these days." Once again her critical glance came in his direction. +"After a time one loses interest, y'know." + +The sentiment struck Richard chillily. + +"And yet," he said, "you appear to have kept in touch with cheerfulness." + +"Ah, but I'm old," she answered, "and to old people one thing's as good +as another. But if I was you I wouldn't be content." + +"I've no intention of being content," he said. "I just happen to have +hit the rocks but I'll get sailing again one of these days." + +"Well I'm glad to hear you say so, and now I must toddle along." + +He asked what employment could engage her at so early an hour. + +"I'm going to pick over the dustbins in Bond Street," she returned, and +added "You never know what you'll find. Only you must be early. Goo' +morning." And with a sunny smile the disreputable old thing shuffled +away warbling a snatch of song as she went. + +"By Jove," said Richard, "I suppose that's about what I'm doing--picking +over dustbins and wondering what I shall find." + +He looked across the park to where the golden orb of the sun was rising +over the tree tops and lifted his hat in salutation. + +"Good morning, day," he said. "Your servant to command. Gad! but I +could do with some breakfast." + +He rose and walked briskly toward Knightsbridge. The coffee stall by +Hyde Park Corner attracted his attention. A few early carters and an +occasional loafer were gathered about it and the smell of victuals was +tempting. Richard noticed the driver of a large dray was leaning against +the railings pouring tea into the saucer of his cup. He was a big man +and his apparel was conspicuous by the fact that he wore a collar but no +tie. The omission suggested an idea. + +"Do you want a tie by any chance?" Richard asked and listened to a highly +decorated ambition to know what he was talking about. + +"Only this," he answered. "I've a notion I could do with some breakfast +and it occurred to me as you might like to buy me one in exchange for a +perfectly good Etonian tie." + +For a space the driver examined Richard's necktie in thoughtful silence +and his expression softened. + +"I reckon that 'ud suit me," he observed judicially. + +"It would," said Richard, "and a hard boiled egg would suit me with a cup +of coffee to moisten it." + +Somehow the absence of a tie seemed to ease the passage of the simple +fare down his gullet and Richard felt twice his own man as he turned +jubilantly into the park and swung along the lower walk. The breakfast +had heartened him and he was ready to face the future with a bold front. + +"I'll take a bit of a constitutional," he said, "and later on roll round +to a labour bureau and see what's doing." + +He paused for a moment by the rails of Rotten Row and watched some early +horsemen canter by. In one of them he recognised an old acquaintance and +instinctively covered the lower half of his face with his hand. His chin +felt prickly to the touch for his beard had grown rapidly during the +night. As a scrupulous twice-a-day shaver his senses rebelled at the +notion of weed upon his face. However, it was useless to lament over +trifles like that. + +"I know," he said to himself. "A dip in the Serpentine." + +A quarter of an hour later he was cutting through the water with long +powerful strokes. On returning to the shore he had the good fortune to +borrow a cake of soap from another bather who appeared, from the modesty +of his folded garments, to be in equally hazardous financial +circumstances. + +"To tell the honest truth," his new acquaintance confided, "I bagged that +bit of soap from a Great Eastern Railway carriage. Managed to nip in and +collar it when no one was looking. Suppose I'm a thief of sorts but a +man loses self respect if he doesn't wash." + +They sat side by side until the pale sunlight had partially dried them. + +"You broke?" Richard queried. + +The man shook his head seriously. + +"No, I'm a millionaire," he replied, "only I haven't any money--not a +bean. Spent it all making myself rich. Look at this." + +He untied a string that circled his neck. (Richard had noticed the +string and a small linen bag it supported.) He opened the bag and +produced a piece of yellow metal about the size of a lump of sugar. + +"It's gold," he said. + +Richard agreed that it looked like gold and asked where he found it. + +"I made it," came the astonishing reply. "You needn't worry, it is gold +all right. Bear any test." He restored it to the bag. "Seems stupid," +he went on, "that here am I, with the knowledge to command millions, and +I haven't a sou in my pocket. Cheap process, too, once you've got the +plant. Dirt cheap. 'Course it's getting the plant's the trouble. No +one'll believe me. Disheartening. Took that sample to the Bank of +England--they asked me where I bought it--bought it! Lord! Oh well--one +of these days, I suppose. Meet again perhaps. G'bye." + +And with a cheery wave of the hand he vaulted the railings and ran +lightly across the grass. + +"I'm damned," said Richard. "If a fellow like that can make gold it +follows to reason I ought to be able to make good." + +It was after nine o'clock when Richard turned down the Earl's Court Road. +He stopped before a small sweet stuff shop, attracted by a card in the +window which read, "Letters may be addressed here, 1d." + +"I suppose a man, even in my circumstances, ought to have a town +address," he argued. "After all, one never knows." + +Accordingly he entered and registered under the modest name of John Tidd. +To the little old lady who wrote it down in a small laundry book devoted +to the purpose, he said he was probably going abroad and later might send +a request to forward correspondence. It was a dignified and pleasant +transaction although he was conscious of a feeling that he would have +created a more agreeable impression had he retained his necktie. + +Coming out of the shop he fell into line with the tide of city workers +moving southward to the underground station. These were the nobility of +commerce who picked up the reins of office at nine forty-five--persons of +substance in no way to be confused with the eight-thirty worker. It was +an honourable association to walk down the Earl's Court Road in such +company. Richard swung along at an even gait with an important looking +individual in a hard felt hat to the right of him and a stout gentleman +with a King Edward beard to the left. The three entered Earl's Court +Station abreast and approached the barrier, where Richard stepped aside +and let them pass through. Leaning against the grill gates was a man +reading a folded copy of the _Daily Sketch_. He looked at Richard for an +instant, then looked again searchingly. The repeated action attracted +Richard's notice and their eyes met. + +"Hardly worth while, is it?" said the man. + +"I beg your pardon," Richard returned. + +"Oh, that's quite all right--but I really wouldn't bother with it." He +pointed at the opening of Richard's waistcoat and smiled. "That's rather +a sound notion--no tie--distracts the eye from looking too keenly at the +face. You nearly passed me." + +"To be perfectly frank," Richard answered, "I shouldn't have bought crepe +if I had." + +The man laughed. + +"Getting pretty sick of it, aren't you?" he queried. + +A sure conviction possessed Richard that he was in the presence of a +lunatic. + +"On the contrary," he replied, "I'm just beginning to enjoy myself." + +"Well, well, there's no accounting for tastes. But I should have thought +you'd have had enough of railway stations. Better go home and stay +there." + +Richard shook his head sympathetically. + +"Try taking a little more soda in it," he suggested. "You'd be a +different man inside a week. So long." + +The watcher by the gate was smiling pleasantly to himself as Richard +turned away. + +It was nearly one o'clock when his wanderings brought him back to the +neighbourhood of Piccadilly. He had spent the intervening hours, with +little enough success, at the labour bureau in Westminster. From there +he had walked across the Mall and found an empty bench under the trees in +Green Park looking up Park Lane. He had hardly seated himself when he +saw a man come out of a big doorway opposite and hurry eastward in the +direction of Piccadilly Circus. Even at the distance Richard had no +difficulty in recognising the diner who overnight had nodded to him at +the Berkeley. + +"Half a mind to give him a shout," he thought, but on reflection "I don't +know though, he seems in the deuce of a hurry and I can't imagine he's +any work to give away." + +It would have saved Cranbourne a lot of trouble if he had followed his +first inclination. + + + + +CHAPTER 6. + +CONCERNING A TIE. + +Not a word had been received from Cranbourne. From the moment he left +Lord Almont's flat he disappeared completely. That was Cranbourne's +way, for once an idea started in his brain he rested not until it has +been realised or disproved. He had given himself three days to find a +human duplicate of Barraclough and among a population of seven millions +the task was no easy one. His quarry had dined at the Berkeley on the +twenty-fourth instant but beyond that point information languished. +The redoubtable Brown, prince of head waiters, who knew the affairs of +most of his customers as intimately as his own, was able to offer +little or no assistance. He remembered the gentleman who had dined +alone in a tweed suit and had said something about having no dress +clothes. He believed he had seen him in uniform during the earlier +parts of the war but couldn't recall the regiment. Had an impression +he paid for his dinner with the last of the notes in his pocket but +that might mean nothing. "A pleasant gentleman, spoke crisply and had +a smile." John, of the cloakroom, recalled a half crown thrown on his +little counter in return for a soft hat--"Wait a bit, sir, by a +Manchester hatter I believe," and a rainproof coat "rather thinnish and +brown." + +The Manchester hat stuck in Cranbourne's throat a trifle since it +widened the circle of enquiry. + +The porter at the revolving door believed the gentleman had gone toward +Piccadilly--walking. Yes, he was sure he hadn't taken a cab. Gave him +a shilling and five coppers. + +Cranbourne thanked them and spent the rest of the day passing in and +out of every well known grill room in London. It was sound enough +reasoning but it brought no results. At twelve o'clock the same night +he paid a flying visit to all the dancing rooms--Murray's, Giro's, +Rector's, The Embassy, Savoy and half a dozen others. At three o'clock +he rang up Daimler's, hired a car and drove to Brighton because many +men come up from Brighton by day and bring no evening clothes. Besides +the time of his departure from the Berkeley plus a walk to Victoria +Station more or less synchronised with the down train to Brighton. He +spent the best part of the following day racing through hotel lists and +looking up visitors at Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings and Folkestone. +He was back in Town again by 7.30, at the Theatre Library, where he +bought a single ticket for twelve musical plays and revues selecting +them from the class of entertainment Barraclough himself would have +been likely to attend. It was a restless evening, dashing from one +place to another and sorting over the audiences in the narrow margin of +time allowed by intervals. Afterwards he spent an hour by the fountain +in Piccadilly Circus keenly examining the thousands of passers-by. + +It was very late indeed when he struck one hand against the other and +cried out, + +"Oh, my Lord, what a fool I am." + +A new significance had suddenly suggested itself as a result of Brown's +repetition of the mysterious diner's remark, "I repeat I have no +evening clothes." Cranbourne had taken it to imply that there had been +no time to dress but why not accept it literally. + +Two whole days wasted looking at men in white shirt fronts and black +coats! + +"Lord, what an idiot I am. Alter your line of thought and alter it +quick." + +He began to walk briskly, muttering to himself as he strode along. + +"No dress clothes--deuce of an appetite. Chap who had scraped up a few +guineas perhaps to do himself well--on the bust. No, that won't do. +Ordered his dinner too well for that. Had the air of a man accustomed +to the best places. Brown said so. A shilling and five coppers to the +porter. Queer kind of tip! What in blazes was the fellow doing? What +sort of company does he keep?" + +Cranbourne jumped into a taxi and returned to the Berkeley. It was +closed but a night porter admitted him. + +"Look here, I want to get hold of Brown," he said. + +"You're in luck, sir," the man returned. "One of our visitors 'as been +giving a supper and Mr. Brown was in charge. If 'e 'asn't gone I'll +try and get him for you." + +He returned a moment later with Brown following. + +"Tremendously sorry," said Cranbourne, "but I want to ask you a few +more questions about that fellow I spoke of." + +"I've been thinking about him myself, sir, and one or two things have +come to mind. Remembered his tie for instance." + +"Yes." + +"Old Etonian colours," said Brown. + +Cranbourne nodded enthusiastically. + +"Anything else?" + +"I was looking over his bill this afternoon and it seems to me he did +himself too well to be natural. Rare for a man by himself to order a +long dinner like that. Then again he looked at the prices on the menu +just as if he meant to spend up to a certain amount. Something odd in +that--unusual. But I'm pretty sure it was in his mind, sir." + +"And you believe he spent the last of his notes." + +"Certain of it." + +"What's your idea?" + +"He was very hungry--eat everything put before him. I should +say--'course it's only a guess----" + +"Well?" + +"He'd gone a bit short and was wanting that meal." + +"Did he seem depressed?" + +"Not a bit. Rather amused. But it struck me when he got up he looked +like a man saying goodbye to his mother." + +"How old should you think?" + +"Thirty-two or three." + +"Old Etonian tie?" + +"Yes." + +"You're a man of experience, Brown," said Cranbourne. "Ever known a +case of a chap who's on the point of going under, blueing the last of +his cash on one big dinner?" + +"I should just think so. There's a type does that sort of thing." + +"His type?" + +"Or one very like it." + +"Many thanks. You've helped me no end. Now I'll get a taxi and drive +to Windsor. Goodnight." + +Just beyond the Ritz he found a taxi willing to undertake the journey. +It was a pity he found it so easily for a hundred yards further down +the slope the man he sought was sleeping fitfully on a bench facing +Green Park. + +It was not a lucky drive since it included three punctures and some +engine trouble. They came into Windsor about 7.30 in the morning. +Cranbourne made a hurried breakfast and set out to interview the +photographers of the town. The particular one he sought did not arrive +until nearly nine but on being questioned proved himself amiable and +anxious to help. He produced Eton school groups of fifteen years +antiquity and Cranbourne spent an hour anxiously scanning the faces of +the boys in the hope of tracing a likeness to Barraclough. But boys +are very much alike and very dissimilar from the men they grow into and +though there were several dozen who might well have passed for +Barraclough in infancy no particular one could have been selected with +positive assurance. Cranbourne made a list of twenty names and +Frencham Altar's was not among them. + +Rather despondent he said goodbye to the photographer and entered the +taxi. + +"Think I'll go back by the Bath Road," said the driver, "it's a better +surface." + +"Please yourself," said Cranbourne and settled himself within. + +He was beginning to feel a trifle done. His eyes had the sense of +having been sand papered and his lips were dry and parched from want of +rest. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. + +"Only thirteen hours left," he said and closed his eyes. + +Sleep comes very suddenly to the weary--like a pistol shot out of the +dark. Cranbourne's head pitched forward against his chest and his +hands slithered inertly from his knees. + +He awoke with a start to the sound of smashing glass, a sharp rattle of +imprecations and a sense of being turned upside down. The front +nearside wheel of the taxi was in a ditch, the wind screen broken and a +large dray horse was trying to put its fore hoof through the buckled +bonnet. The taxi driver had fallen out and lay cursing gently on the +grass slope to the left, one of his legs was up to the knee in water. +Through the offside window Cranbourne caught a glimpse of the man in +charge of the dray horses--a powerful person, high perched, his weight +thrown bask against the tightened reins--his face purple with effort. +From his mouth came an admirable flow of oaths, choicely adjusted to +suit the occasion. Then Cranbourne saw something else. Beneath the +man's vibrating jaw showed the pleasant colours of an Old Etonian tie. +There could be no mistaking it--neither could there be any reason why +the driver of a Covent Garden dray should exhibit such an ensign. + +Cranbourne let the window down with a bang, stuck out his head and +shouted, + +"Where the devil did you get that tie?" + +It is not hard to believe that this remark, apparently so irrelevant, +did little to calm an already excited situation. The driver loosed his +hold upon the reins, seized his whip and slashed it at Cranbourne's +head. Cranbourne caught the whistling thong and tugged hard, with the +result that the driver, who held on to the butt, lost his balance, +pitched forward on to the flank of the nearside dray horse and rolled +harmlessly on to the road. Cranbourne embraced the opportunity to get +out, seized the bit rings of both horses and backed them away from the +debris of the taxi. + +Meanwhile the driver picked himself up and removed his coat as a proper +preliminary to engagement. + +"Put 'em up," he invited Cranbourne. "Put 'um up, you----" but the +descriptive titles he employed do not affect the narrative. + +Cranbourne shook his head and tugged a note case from his pocket. + +"Five pounds," he said, "if you answer my question. Where did you get +it?" + +The driver exhibited some sample upper cuts and left hooks and +beseeched Cranbourne to guard himself. But Cranbourne detached a fiver +from its fellows and extended it temptingly. + +"Don't you see I'm in earnest, man?" + +The tone of his voice had a sobering effect and the amateur pugilist +ceased manoeuvring. + +"Why do you want to know?" he demanded. + +"Never mind that--take the money and tell me." + +"I got it," said the driver, "from a blame fool at the coffee stall by +Hyde Park Corner. Bought 'im a doorstep and a ball of chalk b'way of +return." + +"When was this?" + +"Day before yesterday--six o'clock in the morning." + +"And what was he like?" + +The answer clinched it. + +"Was he shaved?" + +"No." + +"Broke?" + +"I reckon. Been sleepin' out by the looks of 'im." + +"Seen him since?" + +"Couldn't be sure. Maybe it was 'im I saw sleepin' on the bench by the +Shelter 'Ouse in Piccadilly 'bout four this morning. There was a bloke +there with a soft 'at and a brown coat." + +Cranbourne produced another fiver and pushed it into the man's hand. + +"You're the best fellow I've met in years," he said. Then turning to +the taxi driver, "Get home as best you can. I'm going to look for a +lift. Here's my card. I'll stand your losses on this." + +He looked over his shoulder at the sound of a persistent croaking. A +long grey Vauxhall car with a special body was coming down the road at +speed. Cranbourne ran forward in its track, waving his arms. The man +at the wheel looked over and braked. The big car did a double two way +skid, tore serpentine ruts on the metalled road surface and stopped. + +"Trying to get killed?" asked its owner sweetly. "'Cos you seem to +have got the right idea of doing it." + +"I want to get to Town and get there quick," said Cranbourne. + +"So do I," said the man at the wheel, grinning amiably, "but it's a +daily habit of mine. In you get!" + +"By gad," said Cranbourne, leaping in as the car began to move, "I +believe you come straight from heaven." + +"I come from the Slough Trading Company as a matter of fact," said the +young man, running through his gears from first to top like a pianist +playing a scale. "Hope you don't mind a bit of noise. She talks some +when she's moving." + +He trod hard on the accelerator and somewhere behind a machine gun +opened fire, at first articulately and then, as the pace increased, +becoming an inarticulate solid roar. The beat of the engine, the sense +of speed and the rush of the wind past his ears infected Cranbourne +with a fierce exhilaration. + +"Bless your heart," he shouted, "keep her at it." + +"You bet," came the response. + +"Gad, she can move. You must have pretty urgent business to push her +along like this." + +"Want to buy some collars as a matter of fact," said the young man. +"No point wasting time on a job of that kind." + + + + +CHAPTER 7. + +THE NIGHT OF THE 27TH. + +At the flat in Albemarle Street Anthony Barraclough sat alone devouring +a grilled steak. He was reticent of speech and every now and then he +shot a glance at the clock. In the golden shadows beyond the rays of +the table lamp, Doran, his servant, stood in silent attention to his +master's wants. + +Doran was a person of understanding and one of the few people in the +world who shared a measure of Barraclough's confidence. A late +corporal of the Black Watch, he had reverted to act as Barraclough's +batman throughout the major portion of the war. Rather a curious +mixture was Doran. He had a light hand for an omelette and a heavy +fist in a mix up, a sense of humour in adversity and a seriousness in +ordinary affairs of daily life, a shrewd observer, a flawless servant +and a staunch ally. Very little got past Frederic Doran. + +Barraclough shook his head at a bundle of cheese straws and lit a +cigarette. + +"Get those things for me?" he asked. + +"They're in the dressing room, sir." + +"Let's have a look." + +Doran retired and returned almost immediately with a complete fireman's +outfit. Barraclough tried on the helmet and nodded approvingly. + +"Good enough. Stick 'em somewhere out of sight." And while Doran +obeyed he added, "Damn silly idea, isn't it?" + +"I haven't heard it, sir." + +"Oh, it has its points, I suppose. See, I've got to get clear of here +tonight and if--well--another scheme fails--I'm going to have a shot at +it this way. At eleven forty-five you'll go out and ring up some fire +engines." + +"Just so, sir." + +"I shall burn brown paper in that grate with the register closed. +Windows open at the bottom--plenty of smoke--effect of flames produced +by switching off and on the electric light. It ought to be good for a +crowd of about ten thousand. Soon as the engines roll up I go out +dressed as a fireman. Car at the top of St. James's Street. Coal +train in a siding at Addison Road which pulls out at twelve five. Me +under a tarpaulin somewhere. Whoosh! Gone!" + +"And after that, sir?" + +"Ah!" said Barraclough, "that's another story." + +"Do you fancy it much yourself, sir?" + +"Lord knows! The crowd ought to help. Reduces the odds in my favour a +bit." + +"At quarter to twelve, sir?" + +"Um. That'll be after the gentlemen have gone. Clear away this stuff +and put out some drinks. They'll be here at ten thirty. I'm going to +change into something thinner, that won't brush up under that fireman +gear. Got those notes?" + +"Here, sir." + +Doran produced a bulky package of bank notes. + +"Good man." + +He nodded and entered the bedroom to which there was a door below the +fireplace. + +A little later the bell rang imperatively, followed by a tattoo on the +knocker. + +"Who's that?" came from Barraclough's voice behind the closed door. + +"Don't know, sir." + +"What's time?" + +"Ten past." + +"They can't have arrived yet. Say I'm out." + +Doran withdrew and returned almost immediately. + +"Sir, there's----" + +Barraclough threw open the door and came into the room. He was in +trousers and a shirt and was fastening a tie. + +"Well?" + +"It's Miss Irish, sir. I said you were out but she didn't believe me. +Insisted on coming in." + +"Lord, that's awkward. Where did you leave her?" + +"The smoking room." + +"Say what she wanted?" + +"To see you, sir--very imperative." + +Barraclough bit his moustache and glanced at the clock. + +"Hm! I've ten minutes. Yes, all right. If the gentlemen arrive +meanwhile put 'em in the smoking room. Get a coat. Shan't be a +second." + +He disappeared into the bedroom and Doran went out to fetch Isabel. + +"If you'll take a chair, miss, he won't keep you a moment. The evening +paper?" + +"No," she said, "no." + +It was a very different Isabel from the curled up little person who sat +on the cushions. Her face was white and tense--her mouth drawn in a +line of determination. She shook her head at the offer of a chair and +waved Doran to go away. + +"Tony," she called as soon as the door had closed. "Tony." + +He came into the room buttoning his coat. + +"I say, my dear, you shouldn't have come here--really--really you +shouldn't," he said. + +"I had to--had to," she repeated. + +"You mustn't stay--these people'll be here directly." + +"Horrible money people," she returned, "and you'd send me away for +them." + +"I told you----" he began. + +"You told me they'd found an easy way for you to get out--a safe way. +It isn't true." + +"How do you know?" was startled from him. + +"I found out tonight from Lord Almont. Danced with him--made a fool of +him--pretended I knew all about it--pretended I was sorry there was not +going to be any excitement in the thing. Said I really only cared for +men who tackled danger. Looked at him as though I thought he was +wonderful." + +"I'll smash that fellow's head," said Barraclough grimly. + +"You needn't--he's loyal enough. Thought he was doing you a good +turn--both of us a good turn. Said it wasn't going to be quite so easy +as you'd expected. So now I know you see--know it's going to be +horridly, hideously dangerous." + +"Oh, my dear," he said, "why didn't you leave it alone?" + +"I'm not the sort," she answered. "Where I love, Tony, I--I protect." + +"You've a life time ahead to protect me in," he said. + +"I'm going to do it now," said she. "You're not going, Tony." + +"Listen," said Barraclough very earnestly, "there can't be any +interference in this. A false move now might ruin everything. If they +knew I was making a dash tonight----" + +"They will know." + +"How?" + +"I shall tell them." + +He shook his head. "Hardly, my dear. Besides I don't think you know +who to tell." + +"You forget the letter you showed me. Mr. Van Diest might be +interested." + +"I showed you that letter in confidence. You wouldn't betray----" + +"Oh, wouldn't I? I'd betray any confidence that would keep you safe." + +"It's lovely of you," he began. + +"And I shall do it too," she cut in. + +"Oh, very well," said Barraclough coldly. + +Her arms went round his neck and drew his cheek to hers. + +"Would you stop loving me if I did?" + +"I couldn't stop loving you whatever happened." + +"Oh, Tony, take me with you. I wouldn't mind then. I've promised to +share my life with you--aren't I good to share a single danger?" + +"Much too good." + +She released her hold and stood away. + +"So it's as grave as all that," said she. "Very well, if you refuse I +shan't marry you." + +"You don't mean that?" + +"Give me a bible--I'll swear it." + +"Isabel!" + +"You have two alternatives. Take me with you or tell me where this +place is." + +"What use would the knowledge be to you?" + +"All the use. If they got you I know very well they'd never make you +speak. You--you wouldn't." + +He nodded gravely at that. + +"But I should. It 'ud give me the power to bail you out. Do you +understand now?" + +"I understand I should be every sort of a coward if I told you on those +terms." + +"Oh, you man--you man," she cried. "Well, you've the choice." + +"To tell or lose you?" + +"Yes." + +In the silence that followed an electric bell rang sharply. + +"There they are," he exclaimed. + +"Be quick, I'm waiting," she said. + +"Can't you accept my word that it's better you shouldn't know?" + +"You've the choice," she repeated. + +Anthony Barraclough looked round him desperately, then he spoke very +fast. + +"If I tell you you'll do nothing--say nothing till eleven o'clock this +day three weeks?" + +"I promise." + +The words that followed rattled out like a hail of shrapnel. + +"Brewster's Series nineteen. Map twenty-four. Square F. North +twenty-seven. West thirty-three." + +"I'll write it down." + +"No, no, you won't," he cried. "I've fulfilled my part of the bargain +and you've forgotten it already." + +She fixed him with her clear blue eyes, square lidded and earnest. + +"Brewster's Series nineteen. Map twenty-four. Square F. North +twenty-seven. West thirty-three," she said. + +He looked at her in sheer amazement. + +"You wonder! You absolute wonder!" he gasped. + +"If I were dead I should remember that," she said. "It's stuck for +good." She touched her forehead, then quite suddenly her body went +limp and tilted against him. "Oh, but if only it were over," she +whispered huskily. "If only it were all--all over. Kiss me, please." + +"Never fear," he said, his arms tightening round her. "Never fear. I +couldn't fail with you waiting for me." + +He kissed her again and again. + +"Dear blessed beautiful little love of mine! Look, I'll take one of +your flowers as a mascot." + +"Hedge rose," she said and started. "It means hope, Tony." + +"Hope it is, my dear. God bless you." + +They stood apart as the door opened and Doran came in to announce the +arrival of the gentlemen. + +"All right. Attend to the front door. Miss Irish is going." + +Doran went out and Barraclough turned to Isabel. + +"Will you grin for me just once?" he begged. + +The small face went pluckily into lines of humour. + +"Not a very nice grin, Tony." + +"The best in the world," said he and hugged her close. + +They passed out of the room together. + +When Barraclough returned Mr. Torrington was leaning on his arm. +Nugent Cassis and Lord Almont Frayne followed in the rear. + +"I was sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Torrington," he apologised. + +"Waiting? No, no. We were early. My train arrived at Waterloo this +morning one minute ahead of time. It has put me out all day." The old +gentleman lowered himself by sections into an elbow chair. "Heard from +Cranbourne?" + +Barraclough shook his head. + +"Never expected you would," said Cassis shortly. "The whole scheme was +waste of time. We don't live in Ruritania where doubles walk about arm +in arm. Cranbourne has a bee in his bonnet." + +"A whole hive," Lord Almont interjected. + +"Perhaps," Mr. Torrington smiled, "but let us at least do him the +justice to admit that they buzz very merrily." + +Cassis shrugged his shoulders. + +"Buzzing is of no value in the present circumstances." + +Mr. Torrington continued to smile. + +"Except so far as it helps our young friend here to buzz off," he said. + +The modern slang on the lips of the octogenarian made Barraclough +laugh. But the nerves of Nugent Cassis were frayed and laughter was an +irritant. + +"Let us keep to the point," he insisted. "Did you follow out those +instructions I suggested?" + +Barraclough nodded. The idea of the false fire came from Cassis and, +like most of his schemes, suffered from complexity of detail. He began +enumerating the points to be sure that all was in order. + +Mr. Torrington shook his head and interrupted. + +"A silly idea," he said, "clever but silly." + +"If you have a better----" + +Mr. Torrington put his fingers together and continued slowly. + +"My method would be to go out through the main entrance wearing no hat +and carrying a few letters for the post. There might be a cab waiting +at the pillar box--to be exact there is, I ordered one." + +"That's the idea," cried Almont. "Sweet and simple." + +"That cab would dodge about the streets a while and eventually make its +way to Wimbledon. At Wimbledon it would deposit Barraclough at Number +14a, Medina Road. He would enter the house and change into running +shorts and a vest having appointed himself underneath with rather a +large pneumatic stomach. Also he would wear a beard and a perfectly +bald head. This done he would emerge from the house and start running +in the middle of the road in whatever direction he likes with a man on +a push bicycle pedalling behind him. + +"But I can't see----" Cassis began. + +"Precisely," said Mr. Torrington, "and nor could anyone else. Nobody +sees the extraordinary individuals who run at night, they only laugh at +them." + +"If you ask me," said Cassis, drumming his fingers on the mantelpiece, +"I am of opinion that we are merely losing time with all this talk and +the sooner we get Barraclough away the better." + +Mr. Torrington's eyes looked him coldly up and down. + +"You should know me well enough, Cassis, to realise that when I lose +time I lose it purposely. I am waiting for Cranbourne." + +"Cranbourne's ideas are altogether too fantastic." + +"We agreed to do nothing until eleven o'clock and it wants ten minutes +to the hour." + +"Not a very substantial margin to find Barraclough's double." + +"It is as easy to find a man in ten minutes as in ten years--a mere +matter of chance. For my own part I always favoured indifferent odds." + +"By Jove, sir," exclaimed Barraclough, "you're my man. Damn the +opposition. Damn the odds. We'll do it, what." + +A measure of his enthusiasm infected the old man. + +"We'll have a damn good try anyway." + +"And if it comes to a rough and tumble----" + +"Hit first and hit hardest." + +An electric bell swizzed. + +"He's there." + +"Failed," grunted Cassis. + +But Mr. Torrington's eyes were on the clock. + +"Since he is five minutes ahead of time I imagine he has succeeded." + +Doran came in. + +"Mr. Cranbourne, sir." + +"Alone?" Cassis rapped out the question like a pistol shot, but before +there was time to answer Cranbourne burst into the room, his face aglow +with excitement. + +"I've done it," he said. "It's all right--terrific." + +Lord Almont sprang to his feet. + +"You don't mean?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"The real Mackay?" + +"Alike as two postage stamps." + +"Where've you got him?" + +"Here, in your bathroom--changing." + +"Changing?" + +"Of course. Couldn't bring him as he was. They'd have spotted him for +certain. So I draped him in a nurse's cloak and cap over his ordinary +gear. Looked fine under a veil with his face painted pretty and pink. +He's washing it off now." + +"Is he like me?" said Barraclough. + +"Like you!" + +"How's he talk?" + +"As you do. I'd have been here earlier only he was hungry--devilish +hungry. He'd not eaten for best part of three days." + +"But you saw him at the Berkeley." + +"I know, that made it a bit difficult." + +"Come on," said Barraclough, "let's hear all about it." + +"Take too long. Had almost given up hope this morning, then I had a +stroke of luck--hit a red hot trail--spent the day chasing through the +West End staring at every man I saw. Got a glimpse of him at last in +Clarges Street 'bout nine o'clock. Taxi with a heap of luggage drove +up to a house and this chap came racing after it." + +Cassis threw up his hands. + +"Good heavens," he exclaimed, "a cab runner." + +"Not he--down and out, that's all. I might easily have missed him for +he'd grown a bit of a scrub on his chin during the last few days but +when I saw the way he had of standing and that same trick of the head +you've got I was sure enough. He's a sportsman, that chap, for he was +wanting food and yet some decent restraint stopped him coming forward +to help with the boxes. He'd meant to but at the last moment he +shirked it. I could see him wrestling with himself--a step forward, +then hesitating. At last the driver asked him to lend a hand with the +biggest trunk and he shouldered it and carried it into the house. When +he came out the fare was fumbling in his pocket for six-pences. It +must have been the sight of this cut into his pride. He hadn't a cent +of his own but something inside him rebelled. 'No, I'll be damned if I +can,' he said and made off down the street. I picked him up on the +bench by the cabbies' shelter ten minutes later. Made myself affable +and asked if he'd care to turn an honest fifty. In fact I gave fifty +as a bona fide. Told him to get himself shaved and roll round to +Clarkson's to be fixed up in the nurse's gear--and get some food too." + +"That was risky," remarked Lord Almont, "you might never have seen the +jolly old bird again." + +"I told you he was a gentleman, didn't I?" + +Mr. Torrington leaned forward. + +"Does he know what we want of him?" + +"Roughly. I said it was to occupy a flat for three weeks." + +"Ah! Barraclough, I am disposed to think you would do wisely to retire +into the next room while we interview this young gentleman. The less +he knows the better." + +"Quite." + +"There isn't a cupboard, I suppose, where you could fix yourself up +with an easy chair until--well until the kidnapping is over." + +"There's a wine cupboard." + +"Excellent. We'll have a word together before you go." + +There was a knock and Doran came in and addressed Cranbourne. + +"The gentleman wishes to have a word with you, sir." + +"Half a second," said Barraclough. "I'll slip out through the bedroom. +There's a second door into the hall. Righto, Doran." + +He disappeared, closing the door after him. + +"The gentleman, sir," Doran announced. + +Richard Frencham Altar came into the room. The privations of the +preceding three days had paled him a trifle. His eyes glittered +brightly and there was a hint of nervousness in the tenseness of his +lower lip. + +Doran went out. Richard closed the door and turned to face the +company. Mr. Torrington leaned forward and as though by accident +twitched down the table lamp shade that the light might be thrown on +the newcomer's face. Lord Almont gasped and even Cassis was startled +by the phenomenal likeness. Mr. Torrington nodded approval. + +Richard's eyes went quickly from one to another. Then his hand moved +to his throat and covered the empty space where his tie should have +been. No one spoke and under the battery of glances his muscles +tightened resentfully and his head jerked slightly to one side. + +"Anything so very peculiar about my appearance?" he demanded. + +Mr. Torrington was first to recover his composure and he rose with +difficulty. + +"You justly reproach our manners, Mr.--er----" + +"Anything you like," said Richard, then with a flash of memory, "Oh, my +name is Tidd--John Tidd." + +"By gad, it's amazing," gasped Lord Almont. + +Mr. Torrington waved his hand toward a chair but Richard shook his head. + +"No, thanks--won't sit down. I came because I promised this gentleman +to do so--but----" + +"I find it a little trying to stand," said Mr. Torrington. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. For a minute then." + +With an air of unwillingness he occupied a chair. + +"A little whiskey and soda?" Lord Almont suggested. + +"Not for me." + +"Cigarette?" + +"Ah! I'm a pernicious smoker." He lighted a cigarette, turned to Mr. +Torrington and nodded over his shoulder in the direction of Cranbourne. +"I'm afraid, sir, this gentleman took me at a disadvantage. To be +frank, I was hungry." + +Mr. Torrington shook his head despondently. + +"As the senior member of a firm of dyspeptics, established for over +fifty years, I envy you." + +"You needn't, sir,--it was pretty crucial. He offered me fifty quid to +occupy this flat for twenty-one days and to say 'no' to any question +that might be asked. I wasn't myself at the time--I accepted. Since +then I've had a good meal and that alters things. I hope, gentleman, I +shall cause you no inconvenience if I recall my promise." No one +replied and he went on. "My grub cost three and a bender and I spent a +bob in cigarettes." He fished some notes and silver from his pocket +and planked them on the table. "That's your change, gentlemen, if +someone would be good enough to count it over. You don't mind, I hope, +if I return the margin when I'm in a better position to do so. +Goodnight, gentlemen." He rose, nodded to the company and walked to +the door. + +Mr. Torrington did not look in his direction. He spoke gently as +though addressing an electric fitting on the wall facing him. + +"I am sorry, Mr. Tidd, you are indisposed to remain. My friend had no +thought of offending when he offered the temporary accommodation you +have just returned. It was our intention to reward the services of +whoever assisted us in this matter with a sum that a gentleman might +have no embarrassment in accepting. We should have been pleased to +place five thousand pounds to your account." + +Richard span round sharply. + +"Five thousand--for being a caretaker--you--you're joking--rather +unkindly." + +"On the contrary I am speaking very earnestly indeed." The tone of +voice was sincere. + +Again Richard looked from one to another. + +"You're a funny crowd," he laughed. "Ha! damn funny. S'pose you're +getting some sort of satisfaction out of it, but a man with a hole in +the sole of his boot doesn't much fancy having his leg pulled. +Goodnight." + +But Nugent Cassis intervened between Richard and the door. + +"We give you our word, Mr. Tidd, the sum mentioned will be at your +disposal tomorrow three weeks if you agree to remain." + +"Your words," said Richard with a touch of irony. "I suppose you +wouldn't care to give me your names as a guarantee?" + +"Assuredly," Mr. Torrington replied. "It was a mere oversight that we +have hitherto neglected to do so." And in the courtliest manner he +introduced the company by name. + +"The devil," said Richard, "I knew who you were all right, but I didn't +imagine you'd tell me. That--that makes a difference." He hesitated, +then sat down abruptly. "Well, come along, gentlemen, what is it you +want me to do?" + +Nugent Cassis, as the specialist of detail, briefly outlined their +requirements. He spoke coldly and without emphasis. The programme was +simple. Mr. Tidd would assume the name of Barraclough, he would occupy +these chambers, or wherever else circumstance might happen to take him, +for a period of three weeks. At the end of that time he might reveal +his identity or not as he pleased. It was understood, was it not, that +he would refuse to answer any questions that might be put to him. This +was a point of considerable importance since there was a likelihood +that pressure might be employed to induce him to speak. + +"I'm pretty close when I mean to be," said Richard. "But what is the +answer?" + +"As to that," Cassis replied, "I must ask you to contain your +curiosity." + +"Well, it shouldn't be hard to say I don't know." + +Cassis hoped so devoutly. + +"To tell the truth," said Mr. Torrington very sweetly, "we don't know +the answer ourselves." + +Richard shot a doubtful glance at him, but the seamed old face betrayed +nothing of the purpose it concealed. + +"It's all very mysterious," said Richard, "and I'm not sure I like the +look of it." + +"If you are nervous----" began Cassis icily. + +"Nervous be damned," he retorted. "I'm not easily scared, but I'd like +you to know this. I may have slipped down the ladder a bit, gentlemen, +but I'm not altogether an outsider." + +Lord Almont and Mr. Torrington made a duet with "My dear fellar!" and +"We have already realised that, Mr. Tidd." + +"So, if there's anything shady in the transaction?" + +"Nothing." + +Richard fixed on Cranbourne. "Political?" + +"No." + +"You've stirred my curiosity, gentlemen." + +Mr. Torrington leant forward and laid a hand on his arm, + +"To this extent we can satisfy it," he said. "We three are engaged +upon an operation of considerable magnitude." + +"I guessed that much, sir. When three men like yourselves forgather +one can generally look for balloons in the sky." + +"Just so. A gentleman in whom we are interested requires latitude to +conduct certain important activities with freedom from observation. To +provide latitude it is necessary we should persuade our opponents that +the gentleman is peaceably residing at his own home." + +"Half a minute. You want to get Barraclough out of the country or +somewhere and I'm to fill his place." + +Mr. Torrington nodded. "Am I like Barraclough?" + +"Remarkably so." + +Suddenly Richard sprang to his feet and brought his hands together. +"Tell me," he cried. "These opponents--have they made a blockade--to +prevent him getting away." + +"A most effectual blockade." + +Richard threw up his head and laughed. + +"Lord, so that was it. They tried to stop me at Earl's Court Station +day before yesterday. Oh, this is great, gentlemen. Come on, I'm your +man." + +"You consent?" + +"I consent all right." + +The three men exchanged glances of satisfaction. + +"Then if you will kindly ring the bell," said Cassis, "your servant, +Doran, will correct the details of your wardrobe." + +"So I have a servant." + +"You have everything this flat contains and five thousand pounds at the +end of three weeks." + +"Oh, what a lark," said Richard gaily. + +"I only hope it will prove so," said Mr. Torrington. + +"Was wondering where I'd sleep tonight." + +"I wonder where you will." + +"All right, gentlemen, you can leave it to me. I shan't let you down. +If you'll excuse me I'm going to have a bath. In the event of our not +meeting again you might post that cheque to care of Porters, +Confectioners, 106b, Earl's Court Road--my town address." He stopped +at the room door and grinned. "Please help yourselves to a drink or +anything you fancy. My entire resources are at your disposal. +Goodnight." + +The door closed and a moment later came the sound of water splashing +into the bath. + +"Well, what do you think?" Cranbourne demanded enthusiastically. + +"A nice boy," Mr. Torrington returned. "Straight. I'm wondering how +much he will have to go through in the next three weeks." + +"Yes, but from our point of view?" + +"Ah, from our point of view I think we might declare a dividend. If +you would lend me an arm, Lord Almont, we will speak a word of farewell +to Barraclough through the wine cellar door." + + + + +CHAPTER 8. + +INTRODUCING A LADY. + +It was Cranbourne, who at the door of the flat thought of a final +precaution, excused himself to his companions and asked leave to enter +the bathroom. Richard was standing on a cork mat, rubbing himself with +a Turkish towel and, after the fashion of all good men, singing lustily +in time with the exercise. He favoured Cranbourne with a grin as he +materialized through the wreaths of steam. + +"Hello, back again!" + +Cranbourne nodded and cast an appreciative eye over the well +articulated muscles of the stripped figure before him. + +"Just one thing," he said, "if you don't mind." + +"Fire away." + +Cranbourne produced a notebook and a pencil. + +"Scribble your signature on this bit of paper." + +"I see. My writing. Here you are." + +Richard took the pencil and book and sitting on the edge of the +bath--and without thinking--dashed off his own signature. When he had +finished he handed it to Cranbourne who shook his head sadly over the +result. + +"No good?" + +"'Fraid not. It was hardly to be expected. Whatever you do, don't +write." + +"I won't." + +Cranbourne glanced at the page again. + +"This is your real name, I suppose." + +Richard started, hesitated a bit, then nodded. + +"There was a Frencham Altar mixed up in that Patagonian business." + +"My father. Went broke and shot himself, you know." + +"I remember. Left you on the rocks, so to speak." + +"Yes, and wedged there good and hard. You see he aimed at my being a +gentleman and nothing else--never was taught how to earn a living. +That's why I'm cutting rather a deplorable figure now." + +"I can't agree," said Cranbourne generously. "I think your father +realised his ambition. Goodnight." + +"Night-oh!" + +At the door Cranbourne paused. + +"I'm almost ashamed of having dragged you into this business," said he. + +"Don't you fret, my dear fellar. I'm delighted. I've been spending +that five thousand in imagination ever since I heard of it. Think I'll +emigrate in the fine style." + +"Hm!" he paused. "Altar! I shouldn't really tell you this, but you're +likely to be kidnapped tonight." + +"What?" + +"I thought you might like to know." + +"Thanks very much." + +"That's all." + +"Hang on a minute. Do you want me to defend myself? I'm pretty useful +with my hands or a gun either for that matter." + +"It would help us if you did nothing at all--except comply." + +Richard's face fell for he loved a good mix up. + +"Oh, very well, if you say so." + +"Thank you," said Cranbourne. "The best of luck, old chap." + +"You bet." + +Cranbourne went out and a moment later the front door slammed. + +Then Richard began to laugh. + +"Kidnapped, eh! What a game. Doran!" The last word rang out +imperatively. + +"Sir," came the reply. + +"Have I got any clothes?" + +"In the bedroom, sir." + +"Righto." He put his feet into a pair of slippers, donned a bath gown +and shuffled into the adjoining room. At the door he paused to survey +the appointments. + +"I think this is a nice bedroom of mine, don't you?" + +Doran signified assent with a smile. + +"Very nice flat altogether. What sort of taste have I in the matter of +clothes?" + +"Pretty good, sir. I've laid out a blue cheviot." + +"Aha! And an M.C.C. tie. Shan't wear that." + +"No, sir." + +"I'm not a member." + +"But in the circumstances, sir." + +"P'raps you're right. A sound taste in shirtings, I see." + +"Rather a strong feature with us, sir." + +Richard whistled cheerfully as he dressed himself. The clothes fitted +him astonishingly well--even the collars were right to a quarter size. +In the intervals between whistling solos he put questions on a hundred +matters. + +"Am I a fairly decent sort of chap, Doran?" + +The question received a frowning affirmative. + +"Splendid! You stick up for me." + +The rattle of enquiry proceeded. How much did he drink? How long had +he had the flat? What were his clubs--games--favourite restaurants? +What was his telephone number? Did he smoke to excess--go out much? +Was he fond of reading? Had he got a profession? + +"Ah! and this is important. What about money?" + +"There's seven pound ten in that note case, sir." + +Richard verified the statement. + +"Suppose I want more?" + +"There's about two hundred in the second drawer of the bureau, sir." + +"That's the sort of bureau for me. And I can get some food here?" + +"I shall look after that, sir." + +"First rate. Everything seems snug and in order. Let's take a look +round the flat." + +They inspected every corner, with the exception of the wine cellar, +paused for a moment in the hall to try on hats and finished up in the +dining room where Doran presented him with a bunch of keys, explaining +their various uses. + +Richard dropped into a saddle bag chair and smiled expansively upon a +friendly world. + +"A very pleasant finish to the day," he remarked luxuriously. "If +you'd mix me one small drink and put the cigarettes in reach, I'll +bother you no more tonight." + +Doran was moving toward the decanter when a low knock sounded at the +front door. He stopped, raised his head, listened, and stood quite +still. The knock was repeated. + +"Better find out who it is," Richard suggested. + +"Yes, sir," said Doran, but made no move. + +"What's the matter? You look worried." + +Doran admitted that he was worried--very worried. + +"But good heavens, why? Tough looking chap--ought to be able to look +after yourself." + +"I can, sir, but I was forbidden to do so. And I was wondering if it's +to be a bar of lead or a sponge of chloroform." + +"Oh, rats," Richard laughed, "you go and find out." + +"Very well, sir." + +Doran took a grip on himself and marched out. + +"And now," said Richard to himself, "I suppose the fun is going to +begin." + +He lit a cigarette and waited. It was quite a long time before the +door opened and a woman came quickly into the room. And she was +lovely. She had a mass of black hair swept clear of the brow. Her +eyes were black, large and luminous. She was unnaturally white but her +lips were scarlet. It was a beautiful mouth, shapely, sensuous, +sensitive, but with a hint of strength. Her brows very straight and as +thin almost as pencil lines. She wore a flame-coloured evening +dress--'_Tout feu_' as a ladies' journal would describe it--and a cloak +of smoke colour which fell from one shoulder and double draped the +other. There was nothing ordinary in the appearance of Auriole Craven. +She attacked the eye and held it captive. A woman would have declared +her to be overdressed--_outre_--almost _demi mondaine_--would have +denounced the white face and the red curled lips--would have criticised +the uncanny knack of falling instantaneously into attitudes of flowing +lines. But to a man the subject of these criticisms was matter for +appreciation. By her very daring she stirred a spirit of adventure. +Richard checked a gasp of admiration--of surprise--rose to his feet and +bowed, but other than by settling her eyes upon him the girl gave no +sign of recognition. Clearly it was up to someone to make a move, +wherefore Richard politely offered her "good evening." + +"Is that all you have to say?" came the answer. + +"Of course not," he laughed, "but I make a point of saying that first. +Do sit down, won't you?" + +She occupied the offered chair and looked up at him. + +"At least I thought you'd be surprised," she said. "Still it doesn't +matter." + +"P'raps I am," he admitted reluctantly, "but my surprise was drowned in +a very natural pleasure." + +"Pleasure?" + +"It was awfully nice of you to look in like this. Been to a theatre or +something?" + +"No." + +"No?" + +"I came to talk." + +"Fine! We--we've every facility." + +"Yes." Her head was slightly raised and she seemed to be listening. +"Yes." + +"I didn't hear anything, did you?" said Richard gaily. + +"No. Nothing." But again she raised her head. + +"I say, are you sure you're all right?" he asked. + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"'Cause if I can get you anything----" + +"You can hardly expect me to be normal," she retorted with a flash of +bitterness. + +It was difficult to know what to say, so he nodded understandingly. An +inspiration suggested the offer of a cigarette, but she shook her head. + +"I prefer my own," she said, and drew a gold case from her bag. "Try +one." + +He took the case and she nodded toward it. + +"I still carry your gifts." + +Richard turned it over and read the inscription "Auriole Craven from +A.B." It was a stroke of luck to get her name without asking. He +smiled and handed it back with the words, + +"Ungallant of me to expose your identity and conceal my own behind +initials." + +Auriole laughed shortly. + +"Perhaps A. B. guessed that a day might come when his name engraved on +a present to another woman would be a mistake." + +"Give him a chance," said Richard. "He hasn't all that subtlety." + +"Men change their views very readily, Tony." + +"Only men?" he countered. + +She jerked the reply at him over her uncovered shoulder. + +"My being here, you mean? My having joined the other side?" + +This was a grateful piece of intelligence but Richard preserved a stern +expression. + +"Since you suggest it yourself----" he admitted. + +"Do you hate me for doing it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"Not at all. I'm sure your reasons were adequate." + +"They were. Still I thought you'd be surprised." + +It was clearly evident that some sort of emotion would have to be +expressed. Richard passed a hand across his forehead and walked to the +fireplace. + +"My dear Auriole," he said, "did I ever strike you as a man who +betrayed my real feelings?" + +"I always knew them," she returned. + +"Then you must know how hurt I am--how very hurt--to think that +you--well, I mean, it's dreadful--most--er--most dreadful." + +"Were you expecting loyalty from me?" + +"There are degrees," he replied with a reproachful glance. + +"Wonderful," said Auriole. "It's wonderful really." Her voice dropped +and she looked him squarely in the eyes. "Tony, you're not really in +love with that girl, you know." + +He was concealing bewilderment behind the action of mixing a drink, but +the statement so startled him that he sent a column of soda water +straight into his shoe. + +"Look here," he declared, vigorously mopping his sock with a +handkerchief. "If you're going to say things like that I simply----" + +"You can't love her." + +A tinge of scarlet showed upon her white cheeks. Evidently the girl +was in earnest. It was useless to flirt with the situation. + +"I am not going to attempt to prove it," said Richard very gallantly. + +"In fact it's an offence for me to mention her name." + +"You haven't--yet," he observed tentatively. + +And as she took this to be a challenge, she leaned back in her chair +and said "Isabel Irish" with very little charity of inflexion. + +"Please!" said Richard--but what he really meant was "Thank you." +Inside himself he was thinking "Damn that fellow Doran! Why the blazes +didn't he tell me about all these girls." + +The sound of Auriole's voice brought him back to the necessity of the +moment. + +"So _sans gene_," she was saying, "so innocent--so unworldly. I wonder +what her views would be if she learnt you had entertained a lady in +your flat at midnight." + +"As the lady came uninvited," Richard returned, "I am hardly likely to +refer to the matter." + +"Suppose I referred to it--advertised the fact. Do you imagine she +would marry you then?" + +Richard smiled. + +"I should say she'd be as likely to marry me then as she is now." + +"A girl brought up as she has been?" + +"Aha!" + +"You're very confident. Tony, there are people watching this flat +to-night." + +"Dear, dear!" + +"People who will talk tomorrow morning." + +"What, the chatty-at-breakfast-kind. How dreadful." + +"If you wish to stop them, there is only one way." + +"Yes--tell me. Always believed they were incurable." + +Auriole shut her hands tight and spoke with difficulty. + +"Tony, I don't know how real your affections are for this girl, but I +know this. If you refuse to answer our questions your chance of +marrying her is worth--nothing. Understand? Nothing." + +And all at once Richard became serious. + +"Will that please you?" he asked. + +"Perhaps." + +"I don't think so. I don't think it will please you, really." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You're too good a sort to enjoy spreading rotten fables about people +who are in love with one another." + +She echoed the words "too good a sort" rather faintly. + +"Yes. I suppose you--you're jealous or something--angry because my +feelings have changed. I understand that--it's natural, and I don't +defend myself, you know. It's natural you should want to hurt me, but +aren't you choosing rather a rotten way of doing it, 'cos you're +hurting an innocent girl into the bargain. It's way down below your +form to side up with these men who are against me--isn't it, now? As a +friend, I'd drop out of this deal--clean out--it--it's not up to your +standard." + +"Why do you say this to me?" + +"Because I like you too well to associate you with----" + +"You like me?" + +"Yes." + +"Still?" + +"Not still," he answered, truthfully, "but now." + +She was silent for a long while, then she shook her head. + +"No good, Tony. It wouldn't make any difference if I dropped out. I +know it's beastly, but that can't be helped. They mean to have their +answer, whatever happens." + +"They've come to the wrong house to get it," said Richard and he folded +his arms very heroically. + +"You refuse to speak?" + +"I do." + +"Mr. Van Diest would pay you--enormously." + +"Course he would." + +"Twenty per cent after exploitation and a million down." + +It was a staggering proposition, but Richard preserved his calm and +remarked humorously: + +"I'll take it in copper, please." + +Auriole sprang to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders. Her +face was lovelier at close range. A faint and delightful perfume came +to his nostrils, her eyes burned brightly and the scarlet mouth, with +its moist trembling lower lip, was an exquisite invitation. This +indeed was a very woman, he thought, a striking contrast to the small +and wistful Doreen. With sudden intuition he realised he had but to +open his arms and she would enter--willingly, anxiously. An insane +desire possessed him to do this thing. She was adorable, desirable, +magnificent, and he was certain beyond doubt she loved him. With a +catch of the breath he raised his hands and in so doing his glance fell +upon the sleeve of the coat he wore. The cloth was of blue Cheviot +which reminded him abruptly that he was Richard Frencham Altar +masquerading in someone else's clothes, a circumstance which in no way +admitted him to the use of short cuts to the affections of their real +owner's admirers. It is disappointing to have to acknowledge that +someone is violently in love with someone else that you happen to +resemble and the reflection sobered him quickly. With an awkward laugh +he turned away and repeated: + +"Yes, tell him I'll take it in copper." + +"Tony!" she said, "Tony, don't fool with it! Don't you, realise how +frightfully serious it is? Haven't you any imagination?" + +Apparently he did realise--apparently he had some imagination, for he +replied: + +"I imagine it is much too late for us to be talking here together. I'm +going to ring the bell." + +"No," she cried. + +"My man will get you a cab." + +"If you ring you'll be sorry." + +"Life is full of regrets," he answered, and pressed the button. + +He saw the startled gesture she made to prevent him and simultaneously +the hall and the bedroom doors were thrown open and three gentlemen, +each levelling a revolver at his head, advanced into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER 9. + +AN INVITATION TO STAY. + +To a person of less even temperament than Richard the unexpected +appearance of these three gentlemen marching in the wake of nickel +plated shooting irons might well have aroused feelings of alarm and +indignation. But for a matter of some four years Richard had been shot +over pretty thoroughly and the lessons of calm learnt in the hard +school of war did not desert him in the present situation. He felt, +moreover, a curious certainty that the chance of bullets flying around +was pretty remote. The primary necessity was to keep his head and +avoid any word or action that might betray the fact that he was not the +man they believed him to be. The name Van Diest, which had occurred in +his conversation with the girl, came quickly to his brain and he +glanced from one to another in the hope of determining whether its +bearer was present. + +His eyes were held by a short rotund person of advanced middle age who +occupied the centre of the room. In outline this person was distinctly +Dutch. His face was heavily pleated, with dewlaps pendant from the +jaw. He wore side whiskers that did not make a good pair and dark +bushy brows almost concealed his small, twinkly eyes. He possessed +very little hair, but what there was had been pasted in thin separated +strands across the shiny bald pate. A low collar of enormous +circumference encircled his short neck and his tie was drawn through a +Zodiac ring. His clothes were ill-fitting--shapeless trousers and a +voluminous morning coat, in the buttonhole of which was a pink +carnation with a silver papered stem, an immense watch-chain spread +across a coarsely knitted waistcoat of Berlin wool. And he seemed out +of breath. The pistol in his extended hand vibrated in sympathy with +an accelerated pulse rate. + +Richard's left hand wandered carelessly to his hip. + +"Look here, Mr. Van Diest," he said, "were you never taught that it's +rude to point?" + +A twang like the snapping of a 'cello string brought his head round +sharply. + +"Hands away from your side pocket." + +It was less of an invitation than an order. + +The speaker was a big, broad-shouldered American of the thruster +school, heavy jaw, black hair and hurry. He held his gun dead rigid +against his thigh and there was that in his eyes which foretold that +where he looked he could hit. This was Ezra P. Hipps. + +"Set down and don't move--this thing goes off," he said. + +Richard considered the proposal and the speaker and judged both to be +sound. + +"Thanks," he said, "I'd like a stall for this entertainment," and +dropped into a chair. + +The man who was standing behind Van Diest came forward and smiled +gracefully. He was sleek and too well dressed and gave the appearance +of being out of his natural element and ashamed of the one in which he +found himself. + +"You remember me, Barraclough, old fellow," he said, swinging his +pistol as though it were a cane. + +"I'm a terror for forgetting trifles," Richard replied sweetly. +"Remind me." + +"Oliver Laurence. Met you in '11 at old Dick Harris' place." + +"Good old Dick," said Richard in the spirit of the scene. "But as I +was about to remark, here we all are, gentlemen, and what happens next?" + +Hugo Van Diest flickered his eyes at Auriole and asked in a soft +guttural voice: + +"You prevail--yes?" + +Auriole shook her head. + +"Mr. Barraclough refuses," she said. + +Van Diest drew in his breath between shut teeth and Oliver Laurence +sighed sadly. + +"Refuse." + +"'Fraid so," nodded Richard. + +"You know vot is it dot we ask?" + +"Perfectly, but if you'd care to repeat it----" + +Ezra P. Hipps rapped his free hand on a chair back. + +"Don't get fresh," he snapped, "we're after business." + +"Sorry," said Richard. "Thought it was a kind of Wild West act." + +Evidently Van Diest wanted to avoid a row. He approached the subject +in his most agreeable tone which sounded like a puma purring. + +"Twendy per cent and a million pounds for der map. A man like you he +can't spend a million pounds in a lifetime." + +"Don't be too sure," said Richard unwisely. "I might have inherited +the knack." + +"Let's hear a price." + +Richard turned to the American with a grin. + +"Honestly," he replied, "anything you got from me would be dear at a +shilling." + +The friendly quality died out of Van Diest's voice. + +"We was very sincere, Mr. Barraclough." + +"Oh, that's fine," said Richard. + +Oliver Laurence laid a soothing hand on his shoulder and the touch of +the man was beastly. It inspired an instant and substantial dislike. +Richard rounded on him with his first show of temper and brushed away +the hand. + +"Look here, Daisy," he said. "Better not touch the exhibits unless you +want to be hurt." + +And at this point Ezra P. Hipps showed himself a man of action. + +"Guess what you won't give we'll have to take. Keys?" + +"Take 'em by all means," said Richard, fishing the bunch from his +pocket. "Tell me if you find anything." + +"It will save a lot of troubles to you if we find something," murmured +Van Diest. + +There was a distinct menace in the words but Richard was too interested +in the activities of Ezra P. Hipps to pay heed to that. With +lightning-like rapidity the American had unlocked every drawer in the +bureau, withdrawn them from their runners and laid them in a precise +row on the floor. + +"Guessed it," he ejaculated. "Simple. One of 'em is shorter than the +rest." + +He dived a hand into the cavity lately filled by the short drawer and +produced a small steel despatch box. + +"The goods!" + +Richard leaned forward with a sudden impulse to prevent the box being +opened but the caressing muzzle of Van Diest's revolver coaxed him back +to the chair. + +"Very simple," said Van Diest. "Maps inside. Open it." + +Hipps wasted little time trying to find a key that would fit. He put +the box on the floor and kicked it scientifically. From the wreckage +he rescued a neat roll of parchment with a tape round its waist. Once +again he remarked "The goods!" whisked off the tape and spread out the +parchment. + +"Writing." + +"Read it." + +And he read. + +"That would be altogether too easy, gentlemen. Perhaps there isn't a +map after all." + +Richard settled himself comfortably with a sigh of satisfaction and the +three men turned to look at him. + +"Don't blame me," he said sweetly, "I never said there was a map, did +I?" + +Out of the corner of his eye he saw Auriole with a flush of what might +easily have been taken for pleasure on her cheeks. It was very +perplexing. + +"Hm!" Van Diest nodded. "Hm! A wise man keep this sort of +informations in his head." + +"'Course he does." + +"Yes, yes. Mr. Barraclough, a great deal you oblige by coming with us +to an apartment we have prepared for your receptions." + +"It's nice of you but I'm very comfortable here." + +"I'm afraid we must insist." + +"Since you're so pressing." + +"And as a gentleman you make no troubles--no noise." + +"There's no such thing as a noisy gentleman." + +Ezra P. Hipps rapped the butt of his automatic on the table top. + +"You can keep the cross-talking for the automobile," he said. "We're +through here--step out." + +As they moved toward the door Laurence slipped a hand through Richard's +arm. + +"My dear old fellow," he said, "if you only knew how distasteful all +this is to me." + +Richard drew his arm away sharply. + +"So's that to me," he said, brushing his sleeve with the deliberate +will to offend. Then he turned and bowed to Auriole. "Your friends +are amusing but I'm afraid they are going to waste a lot of time. Are +you coming our way?" + + + + +CHAPTER 10. + +NERVES. + +The clocks were striking seven when Anthony Barraclough descended the +stairs of the flats and hailed a taxi. The street was deserted save +for a policeman and an old hag who was sorting over the contents of a +dustbin outside the adjoining house. She shot a quick glance at +Barraclough and broke into a cackle of thin laughter. + +"Didn't take you long to come up in the world," she piped. "Always +thought you were a bit of a fraud." + +Barraclough gasped. The disappointment was so cruel. + +"You are making a mistake," he said and opened the taxi door. + +"You've had a shave, that's all, but, bless you, that don't deceive me." + +"Look here----" he began. + +"You don't want to be recognised, my dear. I can easily forget, you +know, if I'm encouraged." She stretched out a filthy clawlike hand. + +There was something queer in her manner--a difference from the rank and +file of Van Diest's regiment. + +Clearly, too, her poverty was genuine. With a little tact her +allegiance might be diverted. He pulled a note case from his pocket +and detached a fiver. + +"Take that," he said, "and if you want more----" + +He rattled off Lord Almont's address in Park Lane. + +"Save my soul!" gasped the old woman. "Are you crazy? Didn't expect +more'n a florin. Bless your pretty heart. You must be badly +frightened of something." + +But Barraclough waited for no more. He jumped into the taxi with the +words 'Westminster Bridge' and drove away, swearing to himself. + +"Of all rotten luck. Yet I can't help feeling she didn't belong to +that gang after all. Wonder if I've made an almighty fool of myself." + +For the first time in his life his nerves were beginning to fray. His +fingers drummed a tattoo on the leather seat of the cab and, despite +the chill of early morning, his brow was hot and clammy. + +"Likely enough it was just a begging stunt." + +He put his head out of the window and said 'Waterloo Station.' A +sudden memory persuaded him to glance above his head and reassure +himself no other passenger was concealed upon the roof. The action in +itself was fresh evidence of nerves. + +"Must pull myself together," he said. "Those infernal hours in the +wine cupboard have shaken me up." + +To a man of action nothing is so wearing as inactivity. It had been +intolerable sitting in the darkness while the new proxy had borne the +enemy's assault unaided. He had heard the rumble of talk which had +followed the first stifled cry from Doran when the sponge of chloroform +was thrust into his face, and every now and again he had heard Frencham +Altar's voice ring out high and mocking and exasperatingly like his +own. Finally the front door had slammed but he remained concealed for +over an hour in case of misadventure. Doran was lying in the hall when +he stepped from his hiding place. Barraclough knew a little of the +rough science of medicine and very heartily cursed the man who had +doped his servant. A little more of the anaesthetic would have put a +period to Doran's career. There was an hour's hard work with ammonia +and respiratory exercises before the good fellow blinked an eyelid and +made the wry faces of recovery. After that Barraclough stewed himself +a cup of coffee, broke a couple of eggs into it and made ready for +departure. Altogether it had been a trying night as his nerves were +beginning to testify. + +It was encouraging to find no suspicious watcher at booking office or +barrier. He passed through unobserved and entered an empty first-class +compartment in the 7.30 to Southampton. There were ten minutes to wait +before they were due to start--minutes which dragged interminably. But +at last the green flag dropped, the couplings tightened and the train +began to move. + +"Thank God for that," he exclaimed and relaxed against the cushions of +the seat. + +But his relief was short lived. A large man, running at full speed, +came abreast the carriage window which was lowered, a suitcase came +flying through and landed on the opposite seat, while the man himself +leapt to the running board, threw open the door and sprang into the +carriage. + +"Jing! but that was a near squeak," he exclaimed. "Another half minute +and you'd have beaten me." + +Barraclough's muscles tightened and his mouth went hard and straight. +So the bluff had failed after all. He was spotted. That idiot from +the benches had given them away. + +The man opposite did not appear to have lost his breath through the +race and was looking at Barraclough with an expression of good-natured +humour in a pair of twinkly blue eyes. He was of very powerful +physique, broad-shouldered and bull necked. Also he had the appearance +of being uncommonly fit. In any other circumstance Barraclough would +have taken him for a pleasant, likeable fellow, who might have helped +to pass the tedium of a long journey. But his actual feelings were far +removed from any such consideration. The smug affability of the man +coupled with his obvious strength aroused such indignation in +Barraclough that he was scarcely able to remain seated. The difference +in their weight and stature precluded all chances of a successful +frontal attack. It would be sheer waste of energy to seize this +intruder and try to chuck him on the line. But, on the other hand, +something drastic would have to be done. At such a stage of the game +it was intolerable to contemplate defeat. He thought of his words to +Mr. Torrington the evening before and of the assurance he had given to +Isabel. Then there was the immense prize that success would award him. +Was everything to be lost because of one piece of infernal bad luck. +If he could reach Southampton unobserved he was confident that the +arrangements he had prepared would baffle observation. Besides the +presumption was that the watchers had been called off and this infernal +smiling idiot on the seat opposite had failed to receive new +instructions and was acting upon the old. + +In Barraclough's right hip pocket was an automatic pistol but between +its butt and his hand was a thick buttoned upholster. Any attempt to +reach the weapon would surely result in an immediate counter offensive, +with himself at a disadvantage. No, he must think of something subtler +than that. + +On the seat beside him lay a packet of Gold Flake cigarettes, bought +from a trolley on the platform. It gave him an idea. He put one in +his mouth and began to slap his pockets as though searching for +matches. He might have saved himself the pains for the man opposite +produced a lighter and offered it with a friendly word. + +"Always keep one handy." + +Barraclough, silently swearing, thanked him and lit up. + +Clearly his companion was a person of some geniality. He spread out +his legs, cleared his throat, and observed: + +"All's well as ends well. Still, I didn't expect to catch you." + +Barraclough assumed an air of indifference. + +"Did you not?" he said. + +"It's a fact, I didn't. Lying in bed I was twelve minutes ago. Used +some words, too, when they called me up on the 'phone. But, all said, +it was worth the rush. Means a good deal of money to me." + +This final remark did little to improve Barraclough's temper. However, +he preserved an outward calm and said he supposed so. + +"I'm tenacious," said the man. "That's what I am--tenacious." + +"A fine quality." + +"And pretty useful in my trade." + +"Must be." + +Barraclough's mind was concentrated on finding a weak spot at which to +attack and already a delicate idea was maturing. In the rack above his +companion's head was his suitcase, the handle projecting outward. +Apparently it was unusually heavy for Barraclough had noticed with what +a resonant whack it hit the carriage cushions when thrown in through +the window and also that it was only lifted to its present position +with an effort. If that suitcase could be persuaded to fall on its +owner's head it was reasonable to suppose the result would be +anesthetic. And in Barraclough's hand was a crooked stick. The +association of idea is obvious. + +"Going far?" came the pleasant enquiry. + +In common with all South Western Railway carriages, the wooden +partitioning above the upholstery was decorated with choicely coloured +views of cities and country-side. + +"Since there would appear to be no point in hiding anything from you," +Barraclough replied, "there is a picture of my destination behind your +head." + +"That's funny," said the man and, responding to natural curiosity, +turned to examine the picture, while Barraclough embraced the +opportunity to slip the crook of his stick through the handle of the +bag and tug hard. But the bag was heavier than he had imagined. It +scarcely moved and only by bracing his foot on the seat opposite was he +able to upset its balance. Just a fraction of a second too soon the +man turned. Conceivably he saw murder in Barraclough's eyes or else he +was unusually quick at grasping a situation. He flashed his eyes +upward at the moment the bag was toppling, realised it was too late to +save himself, and dropped his head forward. He caught the weight of +the bag on his massive shoulders and, as though it were a pillow, +slewed sideways and heaved it straight on to Barraclough's chest. + +And Barraclough's lungs emptied like a burst balloon. Next instant he +felt himself lifted into mid air as though he were a child. + +"I've a damn good mind to pitch you through the window," said the man. +"I would, too, if I didn't reckon you were mad. As it is, I guess I'll +stick you up in the luggage rack out of harm's way." + +And this he did without apparent effort. + +"Damn me!" he went on. "What's the game?" + +"The game," replied Barraclough, "isn't played out yet." + +Which was true, for in the tussle his overcoat had rolled up under his +arms, the pistol pocket was clear, and a blue black automatic flashed +dully in the man's face. + +"If either of us leaves this carriage I fancy it's going to be you." + +To do the man justice he betrayed more amazement than alarm. He backed +away a pace and his hand travelled upward to the communicator. + +"If you touch that cable I'll put a bullet through your wrist," said +Barraclough. "Sit down and attend to me." + +He obeyed, shaking his head perplexedly. + +"Damn me, if I can get the strength of it." + +"Then listen," said Barraclough, steadying his aim along the ash rail +of the luggage rack, "and keep your hands in your lap. I'm going to +carry my scheme through even if I have to shoot you and lots like you. +My patience has run out--understand? I've been fooled and badgered and +headed off and shot at for as long as I can stand. The boot's on the +other leg now and whoever tries to stop me or follow me or get in my +way will find all the trouble he's looking for." + +"Yes, but it seems to me," said the big man plaintively, "that it's you +who's looking for trouble. Been a nice thing if that bag had caught me +on the lid. There were two fifty pound bells inside and a coil of wire +for my trapeze act." + +"Your what?" said Barraclough. + +"Trapeze act. Done in my tour nicely, that would." + +Barraclough's eyes narrowed and he looked at the man closely. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. "What's your name?" + +"My real name's John Lever," he replied, "but I'm better known to the +music hall public as Madrooba, the Muscular Muscovite." + +"Madrooba--the chap who lets eight men stand on his chest?" + +"That's me." + +"Then what in blazes were you following me for?" + +"Following you?" repeated Mr. Madrooba. "Never set eyes on you before. +Run after the train 'cause I got a contract to appear in Paris tonight." + +Barraclough lowered the point of his pistol slowly. + +"And you've never heard of Van Diest?" + +"Never! Van Biene I know and Van Hoven, but----" + +"Then it looks to me," said Barraclough regretfully. "It looks to me +as if I've made a pretty substantial fool of myself. If you're big +enough to accept an apology, Mr. Madrooba, I'd be glad to come off this +perch and offer it." + +"I reckon if I can stand eight men on my chest," came the reply, "I +don't need to take a lot of notice of this little misunderstanding. +Let yourself drop and I'll catch you." + +And from sheer relief Barraclough began to laugh--and laughed solidly +for ten miles of the journey. + + + + +CHAPTER 11. + +OUTLINING A PROGRAMME. + +Richard Frencham Altar was exceedingly affable in the car. It was a +big, comfortable, Rolls saloon, and he sat between Van Diest and the +American. Laurence occupied the seat next to the driver. + +He had tried to say a few words to Auriole before taking his place in +the car but she had merely shrugged her shoulders and entered a waiting +taxi. The two vehicles drove in opposite directions, from which it +would appear that her task in the affair was accomplished. + +"I hope I shall see some more of that young lady," he remarked. Van +Diest nodded gloomily and Hipps jerked out: + +"Probably will." + +After that they drove in silence. + +"Forgive me for criticising your methods," said Richard at last, "but +shouldn't I be blindfolded or something? I'm familiar with all these +roads and could walk back without even asking the way." + +"There might be difficulties." + +"Oh, quite. It was only a suggestion. I want to keep up the spirit of +the thing. If I have to be Shanghaied I'd like it to be done properly." + +"You wass very high spirited, Mr. Barraclough." + +"Why not? Comfortable car--pleasant company." + +"Yees. With us this was a very serious business." + +"That's all to the good, but let's keep in humour. By the way, since +everything's open and above board, where are you taking me?" + +"Laurence's house." + +"Wanted to know 'cos of getting my letters forwarded." + +"There won't be a whole lot of communication with the outer world," +said Hipps. + +"I see. And how long are you proposing to keep me there?" + +"My dear old fellow," Laurence spoke over his shoulder, "that depends +entirely on yourself." + +There was deeper significance in the tone than in the words. + +"That's cordial," said Richard, "downright hostly." + +"But paste this in your hat," said Hipps ominously. "Conditions won't +improve by outstaying your welcome. It'll be sweet if you make it +short--if not----" + +He did not complete the sentence. + +"A declining stock," Richard smiled then shook his head reproachfully. +"You know, gentlemen, yours is an extremely heterodox way of doing +business. You must be feeling pretty hopeless to have resorted to +measures of this kind." + +"I guess the market'll improve," said Hipps and relapsed into silence. + +It seemed ages before the car slowed down and entered the gates of a +solid mid-Victorian house, isolated from similar houses by two or three +acres of treeful grounds. The front door was opened by two +men-servants of none too prepossessing appearance, who came down the +steps as the car pulled up. It was significant of precaution that they +tacitly formed up one on each side of Richard and escorted him within. + +"The only thing lacking," he remarked, "is a red carpet and an awning." + +But his disposition toward gaiety was unshared by his companions. The +two servants conducted him mutely into the dining room where a meal was +awaiting them. Van Diest beckoned him to a place at the table and, +tucking a napkin under his left ear, seated himself and began to attack +the victuals without comment. Ezra P. Hipps turned the key in the lock +and dropped it in his pocket before occupying the chair facing Richard. +As the ostensible host Laurence sat at the head of the table and +instructed the servants to open the wine. The change of courses was +effected by means of a small service lift inset in one of the walls. + +Not the smallest effort was made at conversation--dishes came and went, +glasses were filled and emptied in absolute silence. There was +something ominous in this freedom from talk and the quiet broken only +by the tinkle of table implements and the rather noisy character of Van +Diest's feeding. Richard was struck by the old man's prodigious +capacity for devouring food. He ate with a calculated energy as though +the safety of nations depended upon his sustenance. Apart from the +ordinary fare, he demolished about eighteen inches of a long French +loaf at his side, tearing pieces from it with his short stubby fingers +and filling his mouth with great wads of crust and dough. Richard +afterwards learnt that this voracity of appetite was nerve begotten. +In moments of acute agitation it was Van Diest's custom to eat +enormously on the theory that a full belly begets a placid mind. His +little piglike eyes darted to and fro among the cates before him +assuring themselves that he was missing nothing. + +In direct antithesis to this wolfish feeding were the manners of Oliver +Laurence. He toyed with his victuals, cutting them into the littlest +pieces and almost flirting with his glass of wine. + +Ezra P. Hipps ate and drank, as he did everything else in +life--thoroughly and with conviction. The meal finished he pushed back +his chair, unlocked the door, tilted his head to indicate to the +servants that they could get out, locked the door again and crossed to +the mantelpiece. + +"Cigar," he said. + +Laurence provided one and offered a light. Hipps shook his head and +sticking the cigar in his mouth he proceeded to eat it with a curious +rotary motion. + +"Now!" he said and it sounded like a blow upon a gong. + +"Curtain up," said Richard and steeled himself for any eventuality. + +"You're caught, Mr. Barraclough." + +"But not caught out," came the instant reply. + +"Ever handled a cheque for a million pounds?" + +"I have not." + +"Van!" + +Mr. Van Diest felt in his pockets and produced a banker's draft which +he laid on the table before Richard. It was payable to the order of +Anthony Barraclough. + +Richard flicked it aside. + +"Old ground," he said. "No good to me, gentlemen." + +"Let's talk." + +"Fire away." + +"I needn't repeat what you have to do to earn that trifle, Anthony, but +here's a point worth considering. Doubtless you got the idea the price +we're willing to pay'll rise. You're wrong--it'll fall. If you speak +tonight that draft's yours and an interest beside, but every day you +keep us waiting'll cost you fifty thousand pounds." + +"Thank God I can afford it," said Richard. + +"Roughly speaking it'll pan out over a period of three weeks, at the +end of which time you get just nothing, savez?" + +"I savez that you and I will be in the same position at the end as we +are at the beginning." + +Ezra P. Hipps shook his head gravely but his metallic blue eyes never +shifted their gaze for an instant. + +"Tony boy," he said. "The price isn't solely financial. There's a +little physical programme in the skyline. Get me?" + +"Sounds like a threat." + +"And is," came the rejoinder. + +"Interesting." + +The American took three steps forward and leant across the table. + +"For example," he said, "you smoke too much and smoking'll be +curtailed." + +With a quick movement he plucked the cigarette from Richard's mouth and +threw it into the grate. + +A dull red surged over Richard's face as he sprang to his feet. + +"I warn you----" he began, then checked himself at the sudden memory of +Cranbourne's words. He was not allowed to put up a fight. + +"Well, what?" + +"Oh, nothing. I've neither the mood nor the patience to teach you +manners." + +His hand went out to take another cigarette from a silver box at his +side. + +"No smoking," repeated Hipps in a level voice. + +"Don't be asinine, my good fool." + +His extended hand trembled, yearning to knot itself into a fist. The +silver box was just beyond the American's reach but seizing a small +glass jug he threw the contents over Richard's hand, drenching the +cigarette he had picked up and half filling the box with water. The +quickness and effrontery of the action, its insolent disregard of all +the laws of courtesy acted on Richard's temper as a spark on gun cotton. + +"I'm damned if I'll stand for that," he shouted and kicking his chair +out of the way made a dash round the table toward Hipps. It was +Laurence who shot out the leg that tripped him and before he could +scramble to his feet both the American and the Englishman were sitting +on his back. + +"Steady, steady, old chap," Laurence beseeched him. "It's an almighty +pity to start this way." + +Hipps' long fingers had closed scientifically on the back of Richard's +neck and were paralysing the movements of his head. His nose was +pressed good and hard into the pile of the carpet. It was all very +painful. + +"Are you going to quit fighting, Anthony?" + +After all there was no particular value in adding to one's discomfort. +They were three to one and in a locked room with reinforcements +outside. Moreover, had there been a chance of requitals or escape he +was under orders to accept neither. But in his existing state of +indignation Richard could not induce himself to acknowledge defeat. +The fighting strain in his nature could only be satisfied by getting in +at least one substantial return for the indignity put upon him. + +He was lying near to the grate, his head having narrowly missed the +fender rail in the fall. His right hand, which was free, lay across +Dutch tiling within easy reach of the open fire from which was +projecting conveniently a blazing log. The end nearest him was as yet +untouched by the flames and, without considering consequences, Richard +dragged it out of the fire and viciously thrust it upward. More by +luck than judgment the burning brand scorched across the side of Hipps' +face. + +"Hell!" came the cry and instantaneously the weight on his back was +gone and he was free to rise. + +Oliver Laurence, to avoid danger, had thrown himself backwards and was +now under the table, looking very like a child playing hide and seek. +The American had backed against the buffet but his general dignity +suffered a reverse from the fact that his first thought was of remedy +rather than revenge. He had picked up a piece of butter and was +rubbing it vigorously on his burnt cheek. In the shadows Mr. Van Diest +was shaking his head in sorrowful disapproval of the whole proceedings. +For the life of him Richard could not help laughing. + +"I'm extremely sorry, gentlemen," he said, "but you did ask for +trouble." He raised the corner of the table cloth and addressed +Laurence. "If you've quite done amusing yourself under there you might +come out and give me a cigarette." + +Laurence, looking painfully ridiculous, emerged and handed his case to +Richard who took one and lit it slowly from the glowing brand which he +still retained. + +"I think we had better come to an immediate understanding," he said. +"I am perfectly prepared to treat you all with civility as long as I +receive the same treatment from you, but please understand that I will +not tolerate any funny business." An idea flashed suddenly into his +brain. "Just one thing more--there was some talk earlier this evening +of trying to poison the mind of my--my fiancee in regard to a question +of my morals. That was a particularly offensive idea and I want your +assurance that you'll drop it. Otherwise----" he took a few paces +toward the window, "I shall set fire to your curtains and keep you +gentlemen busy until the woodwork has caught. I imagine you aren't +wanting the fire brigade or the intrusion of any other respectable +force at the moment." + +"Seems to me, my son----" began Hipps. + +But Van Diest interrupted him. + +"Let us agree to this suggestion," he said. "For my part I wass very +sorry to make enemy of our goot guest. S'no troubles about that." + +"Thank you," said Richard. "Then if you've nothing further to ask me +I'd be glad to turn in." + +Hipps walked across the room and unlocked the door. The two servants +came in. + +"Show this gentleman to his apartment." + +"Goodnight, everyone," said Richard. + +He was passing out when Hipps laid a hand on his shoulder. + +"Say," he said, touching his cheek. "You fired me with some ambition +to see your flag at half mast. Admire your spirit and all that, but it +kind o' gets my goat being branded by a youngster. Ain't used to it. +We want that inf. o' yours and want it quick. My advice to you is, +don't monkey with our patience. It won't pay." + +"If you count this as a day," Richard replied with a grin, "it's cost +me fifty thousand already." + +For a moment Hipps made no reply and when at last he spoke his remark +appeared to have no bearing on the matter in hand. + +"In France during the war?" he asked. + +"I was." + +"Awkward stuff, that poison gas." + +"Very awkward." + +"Beastly smell." + +"Horrid." + +"Makes me cry to think of it." + +"But you're a born sentimentalist." + +"Ah. Goodnight. Shan't be meeting again for a few days. But Laurence +here'll bring any messages." + +"I shan't trouble him," said Richard. + +"No? Well, that's your concern." Once again he relapsed into silence, +then very suddenly flashed out the single word "Pineapple." + +Richard was accompanied up the stairs by the two silent servants. They +ushered him into a room on the top landing, bowed and retired. The +door closed with a metallic ring. He heard the sliding of a bolt, the +jingle of a chain and the sound of footsteps descending. And all of a +sudden he felt very lonely. + + + + +CHAPTER 12. + +PINEAPPLE. + +The room in which Richard found himself was of modest size and +unpretentious in decoration. Its walls were panelled in white and +below the fireless grate was a second door leading to a small bedroom. +There were no curtains to the windows which were closely shuttered, the +shutters themselves being made of steel plates rivetted together and +held in place by a series of dropping bars. Apparently some system of +burglar alarm had been installed, an exceptionally large electric bell +being fitted in the framing where, normally, the cornice poles would +have run. Glancing over his shoulder Richard observed the absence of a +handle to the door through which he had been admitted. A plain deal +table occupied the centre of the room, with a couple of hard upright +kitchen chairs, one on either side. There was no carpet nor any rug +upon the floor. A single unshaded electric light bulb hung from the +ceiling. + +"Hospitable sort of place," he remarked and passed through to the +bedroom, the door of which was on a spring and closed behind him. + +Beyond the presence of a bed of extremely uncomfortable appearance the +same severity confronted him. There was neither washstand nor dressing +table, chair nor picture. Nothing to read, nothing to look at. The +windows were shuttered and, as in the other room, a single light point +was the only illumination. High up above the bed was the mouthpiece of +what looked like a motor horn. This and an iron ventilating register +let into the wall a couple of feet away from the pillow were the only +objects that provided any variety in the way of decoration. + +The atmosphere of the place, though chilly, had a distinct sense of +oppression. There was no vitality in the air--it breathed mossy and +damp. + +"Do with an open window," said Richard and moved toward the shutters. +He had hardly covered half the distance when the lights went out with +startling suddenness. There was something distinctly eerie in the +absolute darkness in which he found himself. He stretched out a hand +and felt for the nearest wall like a blind man, groped his way to the +door and opened it. But the other room was also in pitchy blackness. + +"Fuse gone somewhere," he conjectured. "May as well try and get to a +chair and wait till the lights come on." + +Roughly memorising the position of the furniture he made for the centre +of the room with hands extended. The effort was a failure and brought +him to the opposing wall. Accordingly he turned and tried again on a +slightly altered course. He had hardly taken three steps when he +received a shock. His left hand touched something rough but soft. +There was a sense of warmth about it but no movement. Richard started +violently and caught his breath. + +"What's that?" he cried. + +But there was no answer. + +Standing very still he listened. The house was deathly silent and he +could almost hear the pulsing of his heart. Then very faintly he +became aware of another sound--the gentle hiss of a man breathing. + +"Now we know where we are," thought Richard bracing himself up. +"Sneaked in while I was looking at the bedroom, I suppose. Not going +to let those idiots frighten me with bogey tricks." + +As quietly as possible he went down on all fours and ran his fingers +across the floor boards in a semi-circle. They had not travelled very +far before encountering the hard edge of a boot sole. That was good +enough for Richard. Judging the distance nicely he seized its owner's +ankle in an iron grip and springing to his feet lifted it high into the +air and flung it backward. There was a squeal and a crash as the chair +went over and Richard broke into a laugh. + +"Look here, Laurence," he said. "I've had enough of your practical +jokes tonight. You'll get hurt one of these days if you go on being so +funny." + +And without warning the lights went up. + +Laurence was scrambling to his feet, rubbing the back of his head +ruefully, and there were two other men in the room. The first was a +stranger to Richard and the second, who stood by the door, was one of +the servants. The stranger was a shrewd-looking young man of +moderately prepossessing appearance. He nodded to Richard as to an old +acquaintance. + +"We meet again," he remarked affably, "though you don't appear to +recognise me." + +"Well you're not much to remember," replied Richard whose temper was a +little frayed. + +"My name is Smith. Had the honour of sharing your taxi to Hendon the +other day. You were good enough to ask me in for a drink." + +It was clearly the moment to be noncommittal. + +"If you've come to get it," said Richard, "you'll be unlucky." + +"Just thought I'd like to take a look at you, that's all." + +He rose to his feet, for he had been occupying the second chair and +scanned Richard's face closely. A shadow of perplexity showed in the +wrinkles of his forehead. + +"Sorry I'm not looking my best," said Richard, with an uneasy feeling +of having been detected. + +"Hm!" said the young man called Smith, "I'm not very often wrong about +things like that but I can't remember those humorous lines at the +corners of your eyes." + +"Ah!" said Richard, "but I hadn't seen the humour of the situation when +last we met." + +"Bad light, I suppose," the young man nodded. "Still, it's rather +surprising. Thanks, Mr. Laurence, I think that'll do. Goodnight, sir." + +"Oh, goodnight. Drop in whenever you feel like it." + +"I may." He moved toward the door then turned suddenly. "By the way, +I've a message for you." + +"Yes?" + +"Pineapple." He spoke the word incisively. + +Richard shook his head. + +"Haven't the smallest idea what you mean," he said, "but not to seem +lacking in appreciation, bananas or any other fruit you've a fancy for." + +The door opened and closed behind the three retreating forms and once +again the room was plunged into darkness. + +The business of getting into bed was embarrassed by the constant +reverses of light into darkness and back again. There appeared to be +no specified period for either--sometimes the light would burn ten +minutes--sometimes two and sometimes would merely flash up and down. A +more successful irritant could hardly have been devised. The shock of +the extreme contrast was in itself enough to infuriate an ordinary +individual. Richard would gladly have accepted total darkness in +preference to the blinding changes. This, however, was no part of his +tormentors' programme--it was clearly evident they intended to prey +upon his nerves as actively as possible. He reflected that no doubt +many other devices were in preparation to induce him to speak. There +was this talk of pineapple which appeared to carry with it some kind of +threat. + +"Pineapple. Why the deuce should pineapple loosen a man's tongue?" he +said aloud as he struggled into a pair of pyjamas that had been laid on +the bed. "Might make his mouth water perhaps but----" + +At this particular moment the lights came on and he was able to finish +undressing and nip between the sheets before the darkness fell again. + +He observed with satisfaction that there was nothing funny about the +bed. It was soft and "cushy" and there were ample coverings. It was +vastly more comfortable than the bench which had supported him during +the preceding nights and this in itself was something to be grateful +for. After all, even if these earnest financiers perpetrated a few +ill-humoured practical jokes upon him he was being absurdly overpaid to +endure them. + +Five thousand pounds for a fortnight's badgering. Who wouldn't put up +with a bit of discomfort for that. The wily Hun had handed him over +far more substantial terrors than these gentlemen were likely to +command and his pay for enduring them had worked out at approximately +three pound ten a week. He fell to considering in what manner he would +invest his earnings and a very attractive farming scheme in New Zealand +began to formulate prettily. Farming had always appealed to him and +there was a spot in the Canterbury district which had taken his fancy +when he had visited the South Island two years before. There were +green plains there and lettuce green woods and it was watered by a +network of fast running streams, great and little, where fat rainbow +trout sunned themselves in the shallows or leapt and jostled where the +water tumbled creaming over rock and boulder. By Gad! it would be +something like to build one's house in such surroundings--and maybe +later on to marry and---- + +It was the word marry that switched his thoughts up another channel and +in imagination found him once again standing beside the girl with the +splendid eyes who called at Barraclough's flat two hours before. + +"Wish she wasn't mixed up in this outfit," he said to himself. "A girl +like that! Perfectly ripping creature. By jing! put her alongside a +man after her own heart--some decent fellow with the pluck to stand up +against that wayward strain--and there might be a good deal of +happiness knocking around for the pair of them. I suppose that ass +Barraclough turned her down. Pretty hard to please. Wonder if he got +away all right. Ripping scent she used. Coty, I believe, something +Jacque Minot." + +As a man will who is trying to revive the impression of a scent he +sniffed the air gently with his eyes shut, only to open them with an +expression of surprise. Surely it was no imagination but the odour of +Rose Jacque Minot, taint and exquisite, seemed to hang in the air. +Thin waves of it growing and diminishing in intensity were wafted +across his head almost as though directed from a spray. + +"If that isn't the oddest thing," he gasped. "Now I wonder----" + +The light flashed up for a second--just long enough to reveal the fact +that the room was empty. + +"Damn funny," he said and sat up in bed puzzling. He remained thus for +several minutes but no solution to the mystery presented itself. +Moreover, the scent had gone from the air and nothing but the memory +remained. + +"Suppose I can't have been fool enough to imagine it. Never heard of a +man being haunted by a perfume." + +He lowered his head to the pillow feeling, for no explainable reason, +strangely disquieted, only to rise again almost instantly exclaiming: + +"'Tany rate, this is no imagination." + +For the reek of onions was in the air--gross and nauseous. You could +have cut it with a knife. + +Probably Richard's most violent antipathy was for the smell of onions. +He abhorred it as the devil abhors virtue. With an exclamation of +disgust he disappeared beneath the bedclothes and stuffed the sheet +into his mouth. He lay thus for a long while before venturing to +emerge and sample the air. To his relief he found the detestable taint +had vanished and the atmosphere had recovered its original slightly +tomby flavour. + +"That's a blessing any way," he said. "I suppose it's no use wondering +how it's done or why it's done. Better get to sleep and ask questions +in the morning." + +And quite unexpectedly he found he was afraid--filled with a kind of +nameless dread--a horrible prescience of some villainy about to happen. +There was a motive in this programme of changing scents, a deeper +significance than the mere will to annoy. He knew without even asking +himself how he knew that the smell of pineapple would be next. But why +he should fear pineapple was not at the moment apparent. He only knew +that when it came he would have to command every nerve to prevent +crying out. + +Sitting up in bed he sniffed the air tentatively. + +"Nothing! (sniff) No, nothing. (sniff) Wait a bit, wasn't that--? +No. (sniff) No--" + +And then it came--pungent, acrid, bitter sweet, gathering in intensity +second by second. + +With a stifled cry he clapped both hands over his mouth and swung a leg +to the floor. His eyes wide open in the dark began to sting violently. +He caught his breath and burst into a spasm of coughing. Somewhere +from the wall by the bedside came the faint sound of gas hissing from a +cylinder. + +"Phosgene!" shouted Richard Frencham Altar. "You dirty swine! +Phosgene!" + +It is a smell that once learnt can never be forgotten--a smell pregnant +with memories. As it invades the nostrils the doors of a dreadful past +fly open. The white mist hanging over the sunken road, the clangour of +beaten shell cases ringing out alarm, the whistle of the warning +rockets and the noise of men choking in the spongy fog. + +Richard struggled back to the farthest corner of the room. He had +picked up his shirt and thrust it over his mouth and nostrils but even +so his lungs were nearly bursting. "You rotten, rotten swine," he +repeated. "I'll make you pay for this." + +And a voice answered out of the dark: + +"If you find the atmosphere oppressive, Mr. Barraclough, why not go +into the next room. It's perfectly clear in there. But don't wait to +collect your blankets because we're going to intensify this little lot." + +There followed a louder hissing from the cylinder and Richard waited +for no more. Somehow he located the door, dashed through into the +adjoining room, and fell gasping on the uncovered boards. For several +minutes he made no effort to rise, then he sat up and shivered. The +air was like ice. A bitter freezing draught swept across him, cold as +winter spray. + +His inquisitors were following up an advantage. There was to be no +remission in the warfare. Dark, poison and cold. These were the +instruments of torture devised to make him speak. + +Richard struggled to his feet and stood with clenched hands. + +"All right, my lads," he said. "You go ahead but I'll see you damned +before I talk." + +He could hear the ice-cold wind whining through the registers as though +in derision of his boast. It cut him to the bone through his thin silk +pyjamas. + +For the rest of the night Richard Frencham Altar paced the floor, +stamping his feet and beating one hand against the other. + + + + +CHAPTER 13. + +HARRISON SMITH. + +When the young man named Smith left Laurence's house after his +interview with Richard he was slightly angry and not a little puzzled. +The cause of his perplexity was the humorous lines round Richard's eyes +and the cause of his anger was his failure to have noted them when +first they met in the taxi and travelled home together on the Golders +Green tube. + +He had remarked on the peculiarity of this circumstance when he found +Hipps and Van Diest in the dining room and had received no other +comment than a snub from the American for his lack of observation. + +These two gentlemen were in a state of exaggerated well being induced +by enthusiasm over the capture they had made. Hipps was laying odds +that after a course of treatment Anthony Barraclough would not only +give away the secret but would breathe his first sweetheart's pet name. +Van Diest was more concerned with details for the notation of the +future radium company. + +They appeared to regard the intrusion of Mr. Smith as a nuisance. + +"Seems to me, gentlemen," he said, "there's something queer about the +whole business. Barraclough was known to be starting tonight--and +instead you succeed in laying him by the heels." + +"What's wrong with that?" + +"Nothing--except that it was all so infernally easy. Then again the +fellow seems in such high spirits." + +Van Diest wrinkled his forehead and nodded at this but Hipps waved it +aside. + +"Take it from me, he's in darn sight lower spirits than he wants us to +think. Anthony's a sport and he'll sure pull the cucumber act as long +as the cool weather lasts." + +"You may be satisfied, gentlemen, but I'm not! You don't think he'd +have given the information to anyone else." + +Van Diest looked at the young man with a pitying smile. + +"If you wass possessed millions and millions of pounds, my friend, iss +it very likely you would trust anyone to look after it?" + +"Perhaps not----" + +"Very well then." + +"Still I'm sure there's something fishy. If I might be allowed to +investigate----" + +But Van Diest negatived this suggestion very heartily. He argued that +persons prying about at this stage of the game would bring suspicions +on themselves. + +"Mr. Torrington and all those peoples are very happy to believe that +Barraclough hass given us the slip. S'no goot to make them miserable." + +"Still if--without attracting attention----" + +"You run along and play," said Hipps. + +And so the interview ended. + +Smith was heartily offended to be brushed aside in this fashion. He +had served his employers faithfully and with sound intelligence. +Practically the entire control of the ring which had prevented +Barraclough's escape on the preceding days had been in his hands. +Earlier in the night he had received telephone instructions to call off +his watchers and having done so he had driven over to Laurence's house +to satisfy himself that all was in order. + +It was quite absurd he should be assailed by these feelings of doubt. +Barraclough had been caught and there the matter ended. But in his own +mind it refused to end. Why hadn't Barraclough put up a fight and how +had Barraclough grown funny lines round his eyes? These were mysteries +which for his own peace he was bound to elucidate. + +It was four o'clock when he got to bed but he was up again in good time +next morning, roughly sketching out a programme for the day. + +At nine fifteen precisely he was standing by the ticket barrier at +Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of the Woodford train. +Presently it steamed alongside the platform and one of the first +persons to get out was Nugent Cassis. He was swinging his cane and +_mirabile dictu_ he was whistling. In his buttonhole he wore a flower. + +From a distance Smith had studied Nugent Cassis on many previous +occasions and knew his peculiarities by heart--also he knew that there +was no single precedent for this rare display of jauntiness. + +Harrison Smith shook his head hopelessly. It was inconceivable with +all their immense resources that Torrington's crowd had set no watch on +Barraclough's movements over night. Surely they must be aware that his +intended flight had been frustrated. Why Barraclough's servant Doran +would surely have rung up and informed them. He was confident that +somewhere a breakdown had occurred. + +As he passed by Nugent Cassis said "good morning" to the ticket +collector--a thing he had never done before. + +Harrison Smith got into a taxi and drove to Shepherd Street, Mayfair. +He sent up his card by the parlour maid with the request that Miss +Craven would grant him an interview. He was asked to wait and was kept +waiting the best part of three quarters of an hour while Auriole +completed her toilet. When at last she entered she did not show the +least enthusiasm for his presence but asked rather shortly what he +wanted. + +"I'm tired," she added, "so be as quick as you can." + +"All right," he said. "It's only this. You were an old flame of +Barraclough's?" + +"Well?" + +"How long is it since last you met?" + +"Until last night--four years, I suppose." + +"Hm! Had he changed at all?" + +"Changed?" + +"In appearance--er--manner." + +She tapped her chin thoughtfully. + +"Bit more amusing perhaps--less of a prig." + +"Ah!" said Smith. "Go on--anything else?" + +"He seemed to have learnt how to smile." + +Harrison Smith leapt to his feet and paced up and down. + +"I knew I was right," he said, "but what the deuce does it mean? +Anything else to tell me?" + +"Yes. Sit down, for Heaven's sake. My head's aching and you irritate +me walking about." + +He obeyed and continued his interrogation. + +"In love with him once, weren't you?" + +"Once," she replied. + +"And you've no very good reason for wishing him well?" + +"I've a very particular reason for wishing him ill." + +"Hm! His engagement to Miss Irish?" + +"Perhaps." + +"How did you come to be mixed up in this affair?" + +"I happened to know Mr. Hipps and heard what was going on through him. +It was my idea--kidnapping Anthony. Doubt if they'd have had the nerve +to think of it for themselves." + +"D'you think they'll get him to talk?" + +"I don't think _they_ will get him to talk," she replied, "but----" + +"Yes?" + +"But I could. He's a tough proposition among men but a woman can worm +a secret out of him--at least----" She stopped and shook her head. + +"Yes?" + +"That used to be my impression." + +"Has it altered then?" + +"I'm not quite so certain as I used to be. He was different last +night----" + +Harrison Smith leant forward. + +"Tell me," he said, very earnestly, "did you notice anything queer +about his eyes?" + +"I don't know." + +"Try to remember." + +"Four years is a long while." + +"But to a woman like you." + +"I believe something struck me--they puckered at the corners a +bit--rather attractively." + +"That's it," said Harrison Smith. "That's exactly it. Lord, I wish I +could understand." + +"What's troubling you?" + +"Just a crazy idea--probably it's nonsense. By the way, I've had +orders from our employers to leave it alone so you'd do me a kindness +by saying nothing of this visit." + +"All right," she replied listlessly. "But I don't see----" + +"It's solid in my head that a muddle has been made--and between you and +me, I'm going to sift it out." + +"I shouldn't," said Auriole. "You won't be thanked for disobeying +orders." + +"Must take a chance of that," he answered. "Only learnt yesterday what +it was all about and the size of the deal has got me gasping." + +"Pretty tremendous, isn't it?" + +"Big enough to be worth taking some private trouble over. You don't +imagine Barraclough would have deputed anyone else to get the +concession?" + +She shook her head. + +"Neither do I. But if it isn't that why does his crowd sit still and +grin?" + +"I suppose they don't know of his capture." + +"Maybe. 'Tany rate, it's what our folk believe. I have my own views." + +"Tell me." + +"They're a trifle too fantastic for publication yet awhile." He rose +and buttoned his gloves. "There's to be a meeting at Lord Almont's +flat this morning. I'm going to hang about and study character." + +"Better not be seen." + +"Trust me. I'll take cover in the motor show rooms on the street level +and watch 'em as they come out." + +"Hm! Goodbye." And she held out her hand. + +"Au 'voir. You look a bit down this morning." + +"Don't feel up to much." + +He scanned her face quizzically. + +"Those tender feelings haven't revived, have they?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"For friend Barraclough?" + +"Idiot," she retorted. "As if I had any feelings." + +"He's a decent looking chap." + +"Oh, go away," she said. + +And he went--smiling. + +Auriole waited until the front door closed, then picked up the +telephone receiver and gave a number. + +"I want to speak to Lord Almont Frayne. Oh, is it? Good morning. +Yes, that's right. A. B. was kidnapped last night at twelve thirty. +They've taken him to Laurence's house in Totteridge. What? Yes, +perfectly satisfied. One of their agents, a man named Harrison Smith, +has been here a minute ago. He seems to be suspicious about something. +Thinks you all seem too contented. He'll be hanging about outside your +flat this morning. Yes, that's all. Oh, Lord Almont, wish you'd +explain the situation to me--can't understand it at all. Wouldn't make +any difference. No, but what was to be gained by letting Anthony +Barraclough be kidnapped? If you won't say it doesn't matter but it +seems stupid not to trust one's own side. Oh, Mr. Cassis. I doubt if +he'd trust himself. 'Bye!" + +She hung up the receiver with a little gesture of annoyance and crossed +to the writing table. From a small drawer above the pigeon holes she +took a photograph of a man in flannels. It was signed "Yours for +keeps, Tony." She read the inscription and smiled--and it was not a +very kindly smile. + + * * * * * * + +Harrison Smith, as a prospective buyer, proved extremely tiresome to +the staff of the Motor Show Rooms in Park Lane. He shilly-shallied +from one car to another asking rather stupid questions for the best +part of two hours. The exquisitely dressed salesman poured forth his +eulogies in vain. Nothing could make Mr. Smith decide. He would +listen attentively to long recitals of the respective virtues of this +make and that and then would gaze out into the street as though lost in +contemplation. In the midst of listening to a highly technical +discourse on the subject of cantilever springs, without a word of +warning he leapt into the interior of a big Siddeley Saloon and closed +the door behind him. The salesman looked at Mr. Smith in amazement but +Mr. Smith was looking into the street along which three very +serious-looking men were slowly progressing. Two of them supported the +third who was very old and very bent. His face was set in an +expression of acute anguish. They helped him into a waiting +automobile, shook their heads at each other and proceeded in different +directions. The automobile started up and moved away. The old man's +head was sunk upon his chest. + +When all three were out of view Harrison Smith emerged from the +Siddeley Saloon, glanced at his watch, thanked the salesman, said he +would call again and passed out of the showrooms. On the pavement he +halted and, like the three gentlemen who had occupied his attention, he +too shook his head. + +"They seem pretty well in the depths now," he reflected. "Wonder if +I'm making a fool of myself." + +He would have wondered even more acutely had he seen Mr. Torrington +straighten up and smile as the big ear turned into the Park through +Stanhope Gate. Every trace of anguish had gone from the old man's +face. To speak the truth he looked extremely well pleased with himself. + +Harrison Smith walked slowly down Piccadilly debating in his mind +whether or no he should abandon his investigations. + +He stopped at the bottom of Clarges Street to allow a taxi, laden with +luggage, to pass. The taxi had its cover down and inside he had a +glimpse of a girl with a happy, smiling face. The girl was Isabel +Irish and the brief glimpse decided him. + +"One more cast," he said and jumped into an empty cab that was coming +down the slope. + +"Follow that chap in front," he cried. "The one with box on top. +Don't lose sight of him whatever happens." + +He slammed the door and settled down on the cushions. Pursuer and +pursued threaded their way through the traffic to Waterloo Station. + + + + +CHAPTER 14. + +"OFF THE BEATEN TRACK." + +Anthony Barraclough's mother was seventy-eight and still a sport. She +loved her garden, she loved her son and she loved adventure. She was +very fond of life, of punctuality, of the church, and of good manners. +She was deeply attached to the memory of her late husband and her late +sovereign, Queen Victoria, upon whom, with certain reservations, she +patterned herself. The reservations were a taste for stormy literature +and a habit of wearing her ice-white hair bobbed. The bobbing of her +hair, and it used to be waist long, was a tribute to patriotism. She +sacrificed her "ends" in 1914 to give a lead to hesitating girls of the +neighbourhood. This she conceived to be a duty and one that would +materially expedite the close of hostilities. + +Mrs. Barraclough lived in the sweetly named village of Clyst St. Mary +where you will find Devon at its gentlest. She was waited upon by four +strapping girls who bore the names Flora, Agnes, Jane and Cynthia. +These young women arrived in a body during the spring of 1919 and took +possession of the house. Flora who was spokesman of the party bore a +note from Anthony in which he wrote-- + + +"Mother Darling, + +Am sending these girls to look after you. No more servant worries. +They are tophole. Flora and Jane saved my life when I was in France. + +Love, + TONY." + + +That was all. + +Being a dutiful mother, Mrs. Barraclough asked no questions;--instead +she arranged accommodation and bought some new dimity chintzes for the +top floor bedrooms. + +As Anthony declared, the girls were certainly tophole and made their +mistress so unreasonably comfortable that she greatly feared the risk +of being spoilt. It is true they perplexed her not a little, since no +single one of them bestrewed the house with fallen aspirates, sang +while sweeping nor spoke ill of her fellow. Herein perhaps they +provided some small ground for disappointment for, in company with many +ladies of the older school, Mrs. Barraclough dearly loved bestowing an +occasional rebuke in words calculated to improve and uplift. This, +however, was a trivial concern weighed against the obvious advantages +of loyalty, good nature and efficiency. + +The house in which Mrs. Barraclough dwelt was called "Chestnuts" and it +lay a few miles off the London Exeter main road. To reach it by rail +you alighted at Digby Halt and were met by either a car or a governess +cart. Mrs. Barraclough possessed both and invariably despatched the +governess cart to meet her favourite guests, on the theory that a horse +is more of a compliment than a "snuffly engine." As a matter of fact +the car was a very sterling, if rather old, Panhard Levassor and in no +sense could be accused of snuffling. + +When once an enquiring visitor, after vainly searching the garden for +chestnut trees, asked why the house was so named, Mrs. Barraclough +replied-- + +"The chestnuts apply to myself and not to the vegetation. I am an old +woman with an incurable habit of repeating the same anecdotes over and +over again." + +To this sanctuary of mid-Victorian calm Isabel Irish came in the late +afternoon of the day following Anthony's departure into the unknown. +To wait in London for three weeks without word or message was more than +she could tolerate. Accordingly she sent a wire to Mrs. Barraclough +and followed close upon its heels. Of the presence of Mr. Harrison +Smith in the next compartment of the corridor carriage, she, of course, +knew nothing, and this circumstance provided that enthusiastic +investigator with every opportunity of studying her without attracting +attention to himself. + +On the pretext of smoking a pipe he lounged up and down the corridor, +every now and then glancing at Isabel, who sat alone with compressed +lips and chin sunk on her chest. He concluded from her attitude and +expression that she must have heard of Barraclough's capture but later +on another impression superseded the first, for every now and then a +light of excitement and enthusiasm would leap into her eyes as though +in imagination she were following her lover along the ways of desperate +adventure. Harrison Smith shook his head. + +"Don't know what to make of it," he muttered. "Certain sure they've +got the man yet--I don't know----" + +Once he saw her do a very odd thing but foolishly enough paid little +heed to it. A sudden blank look came into the girl's face--the kind of +look people wear who have suddenly forgotten an important matter or +discovered a loss. Her lips moved rapidly and her brow creased under +an intensity of thought. She turned and breathed on the window glass +and with quick movements of her forefinger wrote upon it half a dozen +figures and characters. But before he had properly noted what they +were the moisture evaporated and the glass was clear again. It did not +occur to Harrison Smith to worry over his failure to read what she had +written, since he regarded the action as symptomatic of mere +nervousness, but he noted with surprise that after this little episode +the girl seemed to relax and her face assumed lines almost of +contentment. After all, no one could blame him for failing to realise +the true significance of that hurried, transient scrawl. One does not +expect to find the map reference of probably the greatest source of +wealth the world has ever known scribbled across the window pane of a +South Western Railway carriage by the fat little forefinger of a girl +scarcely out of her teens. Such an eventuality never even crossed the +mind of Harrison Smith. Nevertheless the girl puzzled him more than he +cared to confess. + +To reach Digby Halt necessitated a change. Harrison Smith took good +care to make his descent from the train as far as possible from +Isabel's carriage. He watched her enter the governess cart and drive +away before attempting to leave the station. Prior to this it struck +him that he might have difficulty in obtaining lodgings in the +neighbourhood without bag or baggage and this being probable he had +resorted to the unpleasant expedient of stealing a suit case. Its +owner, a clergyman, was at the time enjoying a cup of tea in the dining +section--the risk therefore was small. The suit case bore no initials +and might have belonged to anybody. Harrison Smith showed as little as +possible of his face as he passed through the wicket gate. He turned +in the opposite direction to the one taken by the governess cart, +waited till he was out of sight and climbed through a gap in the hedge. +Ten minutes later, dressed as a clergyman and looking very good indeed, +he marched down the road in the direction of the village. + + + + +CHAPTER 15. + +TEA AND TEARS. + +It was Flora who drove the round, short legged pony, who drew the dog +cart, and because Flora had driven a high power car in France during +the war and had earned a reputation as a merchant of speed she looked, +as she was given to look on these occasions, a shade sorry for herself. + +Also, because she had an admiration for Anthony that was little removed +from adoration she did not attend greatly to the business in hand, but +instead engaged in a critical survey of the girl he was to marry. She +decided that Isabel was very pretty but a shade too serious. She +wondered if her nerves were any good. She wished she had been allowed +to fetch her in the motor as there were one or two sharp corners on the +way home which, taken fast, provided a good test of a passenger's +courage. Perhaps it was as well that permission had been denied, she +reflected, since had Isabel screamed or turned even the least bit pink +she, Flora, would certainly have hit her with a spanner. + +In extenuation for these violent emotions please remember that Flora, +in company with Jane, had been instrumental in saving Anthony +Barraclough's life when they found him lying on the roadside bleeding +like a stuck pig during the great retreat of 1918. After all, a girl +is justified in feeling strongly about a man's choice of a wife when he +owes his life to her. She is more or less responsible. + +Isabel said nothing for perhaps a quarter of a mile, then suddenly +exclaimed: + +"I say, this is beastly slow." + +She could not have made a happier remark. Flora relaxed instantly. + +"Isn't it chronic," she returned, "but the old lady was firm about it. +If I'd had the car we'd have whooped it up a bit." + +"Wish we had. Can't stick this jogging--want to get out and run." + +"Fond of speed?" said Flora. + +"Um, rather. That beastly old train--then this. I'd half a notion to +fly down only I didn't know any landings round here." + +"You've flown then?" + +"Yes, lots." + +"Who with?" + +"By myself a fair amount." + +"Got a pilot certificate?" + +"Yes, ages ago." + +"I say!" said Flora and began to feel quite hopeful about Anthony's +future. "Agnes was in the Flying Corps, you know." + +"Agnes?" + +"She's housemaid. 'Course she's been up dozens of times but she never +handled the joystick. Ever looped?" + +"Often." + +"You must talk to Agnes," said Flora. + +There was a bell under the pony's chin strap and it jingled +continually. From her chair by the open French window Mrs. Barraclough +could hear the jingle as the cart turned into the lane. Herein lay the +essence of using the cart for particular friends, for Mrs. Barraclough +knew that as soon as she heard that sound there would be just time to +walk down the garden path and be at the gate to welcome the arrival. +With the car one could never get there soon enough and to her way of +thinking the hospitality of a house should be offered at the entrance +to its grounds. She liked to stand under the arboured gate with +extended hands and from there to speak the first welcoming words and +then to link arms and lead the visitor indoors with promises of tea or +fires in bedrooms and little kindly appreciations of the fatigue of +travelling. She would as soon have omitted any of these gentle rites +as have neglected to satisfy herself that the sheets were properly +aired or the carpets swept beneath the beds. + +Of course, with Isabel the welcome extended beyond the mere taking of +hands. There is a proper way of embracing your son's affianced wife; +that is, of course, if you happen to be of the same period as Mrs. +Barraclough. A kiss on the forehead, one on each cheek, an examination +at arm's length, and finally, after a perfect duck of a shared smile +and a murmured "my dear," the gentlest kiss imaginable on the extreme +point of the chin. It is at once a tribute and an acceptance--the +cashier's neat initial that honours your signature to a cheque drawn on +the account of happiness. + +Alas, that some of our modern mothers have lost the knack of this +pretty exchange. Their greeting is of a harsher tone. They bridge the +separating gulf between youth and age with talk of Auction. They speak +to the girl of "making a four" after dinner when the only real concern +is that she should make a two that is spiritually one. And because +this is so the modern mother will remain more often "in-law" than in +heart, which is a very great pity indeed. + +They had never met before but Isabel knew at the first touch of those +sweet prim lips that Anthony's mother was also hers--was also a +darling--was also a trump--was also every kind of good thing that she +ought to be. + +"Oh, I'm so glad I came," she gasped. "It won't be half so bad with +you to help me wait." + +And Mrs. Barraclough, who hadn't the smallest idea what she was talking +about, nodded and replied: + +"Of course not, my dear, of course not." + +Inside the drawing room tea was waiting on a silver tray, with a silver +kettle throwing out a hiss of silver steam. Never had Isabel seen any +silver that was as bright as this. It shone with the innocent lustre +of wedding presents and even the little methylated spirit flame that +boiled the water looked as if it had been polished with a chamois +leather. + +There was a walnut tea caddy studded with brass that had to be +unlocked, and inside were two compartments with tin-foil linings in +which the precious leaves guarded their aroma and defied larceny. Mrs. +Barraclough took two spoonfuls from one side and one from the other +that the correct blend might be achieved and these she mixed upon a +tiny square of white cartridge paper. Then the cups were warmed and +the water was put in--and some muffins and Jane, who had apple cheeks +and smiling red lips, came in the room and the business of pouring out +began, which is almost as great and almost as lost a secret as the +varnish of the violin makers of Cremona. And Isabel felt good all over +because she knew that Mrs. Barraclough, and the room, and Jane, and the +muffins, and the tea, and the evening were all the right +temperature--warm--mellow--comforting. Outside the window was a thrush +who sang. He was a soloist, and when he stayed to fill his throat a +chorus of sparrows, close packed upon the upper branches of a tilting +cedar, chirped gladly with a single voice. + +And listening and tasting and feeling all the sweetness of the +countryside, the fairness of tradition, the delicacy of age and custom, +a lump came into Isabel's throat--hot, angry and convulsive. For +somewhere out beyond was her man--facing unknown dangers, taking +terrible risks, followed by relentless men. + +Yet all this was his and he had left it. She was his and he had left +her--deserting both at the bidding of that frightful master who +commands us all--that ruler of men's destinies whose initials are +L.S.D. [Transcriber's note: abbreviations for Pounds, shillings, +pence.] + +She put her tea cup on the tray with a little tinkle and suddenly +covered her eyes with the palms of her hands. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" she cried. "Why couldn't he have been satisfied?" + +"What is it, my dear?" + +"Money," she answered with a staggering breath. "Money. And it +couldn't buy a moment that was as sweet as this." + +The fair curly head tilted forward into the black silk lap. Mrs. +Barraclough's hands went round the girl's shoulders and held them +tight. They were shaking so. + +A clergyman passing down the road halted for a moment and peered over +the yew hedge into the open windows of the room. But nobody took any +notice of him and he couldn't hear the words that were spoken. Had he +heard he would not have understood for they were only the kind noises +with which one woman will comfort another. + +Mrs. Barraclough could almost feel the hot tears soak through the +fabric of her gown. + + + + +CHAPTER 16. + +A HYPHEN. + +When first the question of radium arose in this chronicle it will be +remembered that Barraclough, under considerable pressure, yielded the +secret of the map reference to his fiancee, and by this very act made a +present of it, through the pages of narrative, to whosoever might +chance to read. + +It would seem a perfectly reasonable supposition that there must be +many avaricious persons to whom the possession of untold riches would +prove more attractive than a mere interest in the doings of another +man. Let it be said at once that although Barraclough certainly +confided the correct map reference to Isabel, that reference, for the +purposes of caution and public safety, underwent several important +variations before passing into my hands. The reason of this precaution +will be readily appreciated by the thoughtful however great may be the +disappointment it provides to the adventurous. A memory of average +length will recall the high percentage of disaster, of wrecked hopes +and of ruin pursuant upon the gold rush to Klondyke at the close of the +last century. Barely one man in a hundred made a living--barely one in +a thousand saw the yellow specks in his shovel that shone so bright +among the brown. Those who had set forth, buoyed up with boundless +belief, dragged back to where they had started from broken in purse and +spirit, barren of hope and faith. + +What then would be the result if the illimitable source of wealth upon +which by chance and a whisper Barraclough had stumbled should be +revealed to the world? A panic--a mad headlong exodus of men and women +too. Unequipped and unqualified they would pour from city and +country-side, leaving desk and furrow, in a wild race to be first upon +the scene--to stake a claim--any claim--to dig--to grovel--to tear up +the kindly earth with fingers like the claws of beasts. Wealth, upon +which our civilisation has been built, is the surest destroyer of +civilisation. What it has given it takes away. Dangle a promise of +gold before the young man at the ribbon counter and behold he is become +a savage. Whisper it never so gently--and it will sound as the roar of +torrents in our ears. + +Brewster's Series 19. Map 24. Square F. North 27. West 33. Look it +up for yourself. It exists all right but there is no radium there, not +any within a thousand miles for aught I know to the contrary. In that +location and over a large stretch of surrounding country-side the +earth's outer crust is mainly argillaceous with here and there an +outcrop of sandstone. There is not the smallest indication of +pitch-blende anywhere in the neighbourhood, and radium, as even those +little versed in chemistry or geology are aware, is only to be found in +that particular ore. + +It would be well, therefore, to think twice before embarking upon a +fruitless treasure hunt after reading what has here been set down. It +was the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would result from +incautious confidence that sealed Barraclough's lips and made his +movements on arriving at Southampton so secretive. It is known there +was a fog over the Solent on the afternoon in question and that a small +brown-sailed boat with a man sitting in the stern put out from the +shore and was presently swallowed up in the white tasselled wreaths of +mist. That same boat was discovered minus its passenger in the early +hours of the following day. A coastal collier, racketing into port in +the quiet of evening, brought the tale of a seaplane that narrowly +missed crashing into her deck house. Long after it was out of sight +the crew heard its engines droning overhead. Then for a while there +was silence during which a curious pinkish glow appeared to the +starboard and died away. This glow was repeated three times and at the +third repetition the waterplane engine was again audible, increasing in +volume every moment. Presently it cut out and nothing was heard for +several minutes. When it started again it must have been quite near at +hand for the sound of water cut by the floats was detectable. The +engines howled and whined until the roar diminished to a sound no +greater than the buzzing of a bee fading into nothing over the wake of +the little steamer. + +Whether or no these recorded circumstances have any bearing on the +mystery of Anthony Barraclough's disappearance it would be impossible +to say but the Harbour Authorities who were questioned as to whether +they had knowledge of the movements of this particular waterplane +replied with a regretful negative. They neither knew where it came +from nor whither it went and there is a strong rumour that one or two +quite important persons got into severe trouble for their want of +information. + +The one thing that is positively known is that Barraclough arrived in +and disappeared from Southampton in a single day, but whether he went +North, South, East or West is a matter for speculation. + + + + +PART II. + + +CHAPTER 17. + +A DOUBTFUL ALLY. + +"That guy," said Ezra P. Hipps, "that guy is some stayer." + +Hugo Van Diest, from the deeps of a big arm chair, omitted a kind of +rumbling affirmative. He was smoking a porcelain pipe enamelled with +roses and forget-me-nots. His fat, short fingered hands were spread +across the waistcoat of Berlin wool, his chin was sunk and his bearing +that of a man who is out of humour. + +Gracefully disposed upon the hearthrug stood Oliver Laurence, an +excellent advertisement for his tailor. + +Ezra P. Hipps, hugging one knee, sat upon the centre table and he was +looking at Auriole Craven with much the same expression as might be +seen on the face of a slave buyer in an African market. He had passed +her shoes, appreciated her stockings, nodded approval at her gown and +millinery and was now observing with satisfaction that the gloves which +she was peeling off revealed two arms of perfect proportion. + +"That guy," he proceeded, "has got to be made to talk. Looks like. +He's made fools of us too long. Looks like," he threw a glance at +Laurence, "your durn psychology isn't worth a hill o' beans." + +"We haven't given it a chance yet," said Laurence in defence of his +method. + +"Seventeen days," grunted Van Diest. "And no progress--nothing. This +was not an ordinary man." + +"Am I to see him today?" asked Auriole. + +Hipps shook his head and the girl brightened perceptibly. + +"Seems to please you." + +"No, it doesn't. I'll go up if you want me to--only----" + +"Get on with it." + +"I can't help thinking it's a mistake. Can't help thinking that +somehow that minute I spend with him every day strengthens rather than +breaks him down." + +"Guess you're right--it would me," Hipps agreed. There was a shade of +gallantry in the tone. + +"I take leave to doubt that," said Laurence. "I'm positively sure that +if a man is feeling the pinch all day long and everybody he comes in +contact with is definitely against him, a momentary glimpse of someone +who is seemingly sympathetic is far more likely to weaken his resolve +than strengthen it. It makes him relax and even though you relax only +a trifle it's the very deuce to get a grip on yourself again. You can +see it when chaps are training--that extra cigarette--the whiskey and +soda that isn't allowed plays the devil with their constitution. I +know when I was at----" He stopped for Auriole's large eyes were +looking at him critically. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"Nothing," she replied. "Nothing." Then to everyone's amazement burst +out: "What a mean rotter you are, though." + +"Here----" he began. + +"I honestly believe you enjoy all this beastliness." + +"Enjoy? My dear girl, do be sensible. Damn it, no one enjoys having +to put on the screw. It's a case of necessity." + +"Yes, yes, I suppose it is," she acquiesced hurriedly in an effort to +regain her composure. "Only it seemed to me--but never mind." + +Ezra P. Hipps crossed the room and put a hand on her arm. + +"Come on, dear. What's the trouble?" + +"I wouldn't mind," she returned, "if he weren't so--so desperately +plucky." + +"Hm!" said Van Diest. "I think it was a goot idea that you don't go to +see this young man any more." + +"That's nonsense," she replied hotly. "I'll see him. Besides he's +used to my coming and if I didn't turn up he----" + +"Disappointed," suggested Hipps. + +"Exactly," said Laurence. "Perhaps it 'ud be a good idea to vary the +programme for a day or two. Use the siren a bit more freely at night +and cut down his water supply. If he isn't ready to talk in another +forty-eight hours I'll be surprised." + +"Had a word with him yet?" demanded Hipps. + +"Not this morning." + +"Then you and Van try a few sweet speeches." + +The Dutchman rose heavily from his chair and nodded. + +"It was a bad business all this," he said. "You come with us--no?" + +"I'll be right along in just a minute." + +He tilted his head a fraction toward Auriole and laid a finger on his +lips. + +Van Diest and Laurence went out. He waited until he heard their +footsteps mounting the stairs before he spoke again. Auriole was +looking through the window at the trees margining the little estate. +She presented a charming silhouette against the light. + +"Say, you look very womanly in that fawn outfit," said Hipps. "Where +did you get it built?" + +She turned with a smile that was a shade cynical. + +"I'm glad you like it, Mr. Hipps." + +"I do--fine." + +"I'll wear it again." + +"You've passed down the wardrobe hooks pretty prodigal these last few +days. What is it--a dress parade?" + +"One changes," she replied. + +"That's sure what I'm frightened of." + +"If you'd rather I appeared in a blouse and skirt----"; but he +interrupted the sentence with an uplifted hand. + +"I've a fancy we'll cut cross talking," he said, "and come to grips." + +"About what?" + +"This young fellow Barraclough has cut ice with you?" + +"I thought you knew my feelings about him." + +"To borrow from your vocabulary--'one changes,'" he replied. + +"I haven't changed." + +"Glad to hear it." + +"I admire his pluck." + +"It's a dangerous quality--admiration. Sure the old 'pash' hasn't +looked up a bit?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Still it 'curred to me you were shaken some at the treatment we're +serving out to him." + +"That's not surprising. I merely wanted to get my own back, +not--not----" She left the sentence unfinished. + +Ezra P. Hipps took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket and chewed it +reflectively, his eyes never leaving the girl's face. + +"Women are queer ships," he said, "and never too even on the keel. +You've an important hand to play and kind of to keep your mind from +revoking here's a proposition to think over." + +"Revoking?" + +"That's the word. You're in this deal on a jealousy outfit and we're +not after any renunciation, splendid sacrifice and that gear. We want +you dead hard and seemed to me to get that I might do well to tie you +up a bit closer to the cause." + +"What do you suggest?" + +"You're an ambitious woman." + +"I suppose so." + +"I suggest this child." And he tapped his chest with the chewed butt +of the cigar. + +"I don't see----" + +"This child thrown in as a sweetener." + +For a moment she flushed, then the colour died away and was replaced by +a smile distinctly crooked at the corners. + +"Are you making a proposal of marriage?" she asked. + +"I sure am." + +"Oh!" + +He stretched his legs and rattled the coins in his pockets. + +"I've a hell of a lot of money and damn! I've never asked a woman this +question up to yet." + +"Have you not?" + +"Mention that fact 'cos I know they fall for molasses." + +"You're very wise about women, Mr. Hipps." + +But the irony was wasted. + +"I read a bit of heart stuff in the trains sometimes," he said. + +Auriole began to draw on her gloves. + +"Isn't this rather a queer place to settle one's future?" she said. + +"Donno--is it? Struck me it 'ud keep you from side-stepping having me +on the horizon." + +"I see. And do you always mix love making with business?" + +"Sure. Marriage is a business and bank books talk sweeter than the +long haired boys." + +She flashed a glance up at him and there was a definite appeal in her +eyes. + +"Are you in love with me?" + +The question seemed slightly to take him off balance. + +"Damn! I think you're fine," he said. + +"That is--splendid," she replied and turned her head. + +"Feeling good about it?" + +"Who wouldn't be?" + +"Thought you took it quiet." + +"I'm sorry." + +"Maybe you had some hopes along this street?" + +"I guessed there was something doing," she answered in an echo of his +tone. + +"It's all fixed then." + +"I suppose so." + +"Say I don't want you to think I'm only doing this out of expediency." + +"You're not?" + +"Not altogether." + +"Better and better," said Auriole. + +"I must scrape half an hour for lunch one of these days and we'll talk +over settlements." + +"That will be--jolly." + +"I'll get right upstairs now." + +"Goodbye." + +He made no effort to take her hand or to kiss her and she offered no +encouragement. At the room door he turned. + +"Paris for the honeymoon?" he asked. + +"Wherever you like." + +He looked at her critically and she met his eyes without flinching. + +"And you feel kind of strong--soft spots eradicated?" + +"Naturally." + +"I'm a hell of a tonic," said Ezra P. Hipps and closed the door behind +him. + +Auriole stood where he had left her. Presently she raised her hands +and they were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white as ivory. + +"How utterly, utterly awful," she said to herself. "How unspeakable." + +She picked up her bag and the other odds and ends a woman will carry +and passed out of the house with flaming cheeks. + +The chauffeur of the little two seater car that stood by the gates +asked where he should drive. + +"I don't care," she replied. "Anywhere you like. Get on a hill--some +place where I can breathe." + +The little Wolseley Ten wound through the green lanes and presently +mounted a pine fringed slope. Away to the west hung the smoke of +London with the pleasant countryside in between. + +Auriole touched the chauffeur on the arm and he stopped. Alighting +from the car she scrambled over uneven ground and presently threw +herself down under the shade of a tree. Somewhere overhead a lark was +singing and the air vibrated to the drone of summer insects. The day +was blue, peaceful, sweet. A thin breeze rustled the foliage, and +golden sun spots dappled the brown carpet of pine needles upon which +she lay. A single cloud travelled in the sky and its shadow fell +across the house and grounds in which Richard Frencham Altar was +imprisoned. Auriole clenched her hands tightly and bit her lip. +Somewhere behind those shuttered windows on the second floor the +inquisition was going forward. Three men to one. The relentless +interrogation. The same question repeated in a hundred ways and the +same unshakable refusal to give an answer. It was fitting indeed that +nature should cast a shadow over such doings. + +"And I'm part of it," said Auriole. + +Her thoughts flew back to her first meeting with Barraclough during the +war. She was nursing then at a hospital in Eastbourne. He had had a +bullet through the foot and was sent to the sea to recuperate. Strange +how instantly they had liked each other. His good nature, pluck, +generosity, were splendid assets in a friendship which went floundering +loveward after the fashion of those crazy days. There was the +fortnight they spent together in Town--perfectly respectable if a +little unorthodox. He had money to burn and she helped him burn it. +He had never asked more of her than companionship. Of course they +kissed each other--everyone did during the war--that was understood; +and he bought her presents too--ripping presents--and took her +everywhere--theatres, undreamed-of restaurants, dances. A glorious +time they had. He had denied her nothing except the offer of his name. +After all there was no particular reason why he should have asked her +to marry him--theirs was a mere partnership of gaiety added to which +she knew well enough that it would not have been practicable. They +were of a different mould. His blood was of the Counties and +hers--Lord knows where she came from--"the people" is the best covering +phrase to employ. She had been a mannequin in a Bond Street shop +before the war. But was it fair--was it just to engender a love of +luxury--to introduce her to all that her nature--vulgarised by +unfamiliarity--coveted most! If he had proposed likely enough she +would have been generous and refused him. But he didn't propose--he +took it for granted that they were no more to each other than the +moment dictated. There was a kind of long headed caution in his +diffidence with regard to the future. He was exigent too in his +demands and would not tolerate her being pleasant to anyone else. It +was her nature to be pleasant to all men and restraints were odious and +insulting. That was how the row came about. It took place on the +night before his return to Prance. It was her fault no doubt because +really he had been a ripping friend and loyal and trustworthy but the +little climber felt that for once she had failed to climb. She was +left, so to speak, in mid air, inoculated with the germs of all manner +of new ambitions no longer realisable. Wherefore she forgot her +affection for him and forgot all the lessons of politeness so +studiously acquired in the years of climbing and let him have her +opinions hot and strong as a simple uncultivated child of the people. +The expression on Anthony Barraclough's face read plainly enough relief +at his escape. He packed his valise and departed wondering greatly at +the intricacy and unreasonableness of women. It did not occur to him +that he was greatly to blame for having given her such a good time. +Such a consideration was as remote as the thought of congratulating +himself on his generosity. He was only awfully sorry she should have +turned out as she did and rather perplexed at the apparent want of +reason. And Auriole with the disposition to like him better than any +man of her acquaintance suffered an entire reversal of feeling and went +headlong to the other extreme in a spirit of unbecoming revengefulness. + +And in the valley below, under the shadow of a cloud, this man was +being tortured. + +"I never meant that," Auriole cried. "I never meant that--did I--did +I? I just wanted to pay him back. I just wanted----" She bit her +lower lip and choked. "What a fool I am," she gasped. "Haven't I won +a millionaire out of it? What's it matter if he does suffer a bit--he +wouldn't be the only one. A millionaire," she repeated, "a +millionaire--the wife of a railroad king. That's worth something +surely." + +A couple of unruly tears trickled out of her eyes and fell on her lap. +It is really too absurd that even the thought of a million pounds +cannot prevent a girl from crying. + + + + +CHAPTER 18. + +HOLDING OUT. + +Richard Frencham Altar had a sense of humour but never before in his +hitherto easy going life had he so earnestly needed it. A sense of +humour in a queer abstract way provides a quality of companionship--it +gives a man the power to be a pal to himself--to talk to himself +aloud--to laugh at adversity--to spot the comic side in the most +pathetic predicament. Each day provided something new in the matter of +discomfort or alarm. The calls he was obliged to make upon his +resources of humour were therefore severe and exacting. Over and over +again he had need to remind himself that there was something +classically funny in three financial giants demanding from him +information of which he was entirely ignorant and, technically +speaking, putting him on the rack in order to obtain it. The fun was +grim but it existed. No one ever thought of mentioning what it was +they wanted to find out--doubtless assuming that to do so was waste of +time. For his own satisfaction Richard would dearly have loved to ask +point blank what it was all about, but to indulge curiosity to that +extent would be to imperil the safety of the cause he represented. + +To keep a record of days he made a scratch on the wall paper each +morning with his finger nail. There were seventeen scratches in all +and he was as proud of them as an old campaigner of his medals for they +stood for seventeen successful engagements. Whoever it was had charge +of arranging his persecution lacked nothing in the way of imagination. +Methods of destroying his repose and a course of rigorous fasting were +prominent features but these were varied with details of a terrifying +and sometimes abominable kind. On one occasion thirty or forty rats +were introduced into his apartment where they fought and squeaked and +scurried all night long. But Richard's experiences in France had +robbed him of any particular fear of rats. If anything he welcomed +their appearance and devoted the short periods when the light was on to +shooting at them with a catapult fashioned from the elastic of a sock +suspender and a piece of angle iron detached from the underside of a +broken armchair. For ammunition he used a few bits of anthracite coal +which he found in the sitting room grate. Altogether he accounted for +seventeen before the servants arrived and deprived him of his weapon. +The remainder of the rats were corralled and carried away rejoicing. +This little entertainment took place during the first week of his +imprisonment and served the unhappy purpose of convincing his captors +that Richard's nerves were not susceptible to frivolous attacks. +Thereafter they concentrated on sterner measures. Food was reduced to +a minimum and frequently doped with chemicals that caused him acute +internal suffering. When the pain was at its height either Van Diest, +Laurence or Hipps would pay him a visit and over and over again the +question would be asked. + +Times out of number sheer desperation and want of sleep almost induced +him to give away the secret but something inside his nature--some +fourth dimensional endurance over which he appeared to have the most +astounding control--checked the impulse. Often he wondered at himself +and questioned how he contrived to face the pressure put upon him, but +the only motive he could trace beyond the stalwart desire of every +decent man to take his gruel without squealing was an ambition to be +able to meet Auriole Craven's eyes squarely when she came to see him +and say "I'm afraid your friends haven't got my strength just yet." +She would shake her head at that and reply cynically--"It's only a +matter of time, Anthony." But at the back of her eyes was a light that +seemed to read "Well done you." + +He was in a sad enough plight on the morning of the seventeenth day +when the door opened and Van Diest followed by Laurence entered the +room. + +Van Diest was chanting a German hymn, a habit greatly affected by him +in moments of perplexity. With thumbs tucked in his waistcoat and +fingers drumming upon the resonant rotundity of his waist line he +marched slowly up and down moaning the guttural words in a melancholy +and tuneless voice. Richard had learned to hate that song as cordially +as its performer. + +"Take it down another street," he implored. + +Van Diest stopped singing long enough to shake his head and Laurence +who had seated himself with crossed legs on one of the hard upright +chairs said "Barraclough" with a note of pseudo-friendly warning. + +"Why not have a shot at 'Avalon,'" Richard suggested sleepily. "Suit +you, that would, and make a nice change for me." His throat was +burning and talking was painful. + +"Hm! A change," said Van Diest. "I wass thinking you would want a +change very soon. It is tired you look this morning." + +"That's queer, for I had a splendid night." Richard's hollow, dark +rimmed eyes gave a lie to his words. + +"Hm! Laurence, they use the siren--yes?" + +Laurence nodded. + +"Had it going every ten minutes. Didn't give him much of a chance last +night." + +"So! But to these young boys sleep comes very easily--I think--think +it wass a goot idea to take away his bed--yes." + +Richard rolled his eyes threateningly toward the speaker and checked a +sudden torrent of abuse that sprang to his lips. + +"It iss bad for these boys to have too much comforts--s'very bad; with +the sleep fogged brain a man loses so much the intelligence. You will +arrange--yes?" + +"Of course I will if he insists," said Laurence. + +"Oh, you swine," said Richard staggering to his feet. "You rotten +blasted swine. Aren't you satisfied with what you've done--isn't it +enough that you make the nights into a hell for me--a screaming hell. +Sleep? How can I sleep? How can I sleep when----" + +A violent, paroxysm of coughing seized and shook him this way and that. + +"Tut, tut, tut! You haf a very bad cold there," said Tan Diest +sweetly. "You must eat one of these lozenges." + +Richard struck the box out of the hand that proffered it and fell +heaped up into a chair beside the table. + +"No pleasure to us you stay awake, eh, Laurence, eh?" + +"'Course not. Now don't look at me like that, old fellar, I was +thundering decent to you when first you arrived. Barring smoke, +literature and alcohol it was a home from home. It's your own pigeon +things have got a bit tight. Doesn't pay striking out against the +odds." + +"You little rat," said Richard turning a bit in his chair. "I'd +like----" and he closed his fist. + +"Silly talk, old chap, waste of time." + +"I could waste a lot of time that way." + +Laurence humped his shoulders. + +"What are you to do with a fellar like this?" + +Van Diest drew up a chair and smiled over the rims of his glasses. + +"Of course we let you go to sleep if you waas sensible. Consider now +the small shareholders that look to us for their little incomes. All +these widows from the war. You speak and you wass a rich man all at +once. Very soon forget the discomforts of these three weeks. S'no +goot--no goot to make a fuss." + +"I have nothing to say." + +"Ach!" said Van Diest and rose. "I'm afraid, Laurence, we must take +away this bed." + +But Richard raised no further protest and somewhere below stairs a gong +rumbled for lunch. It was part of the programme to emphasise the +arrival of meals and in spite of himself he could not resist starting +hungrily. Such signs and tokens were watched for. Laurence laid a +hand on his shoulder and whispered: + +"There's a fourth place laid, old friend." + +"Why not join us to the lunch," said Van Diest coaxingly, "just a word +spoken and--oh, it's goot the lunch." + +"Thanks, but I'm rather particular who I sit with," said Richard and +moved unsteadily toward the fireplace. + +"It's rather a special menu," Laurence remarked. "There's a lobster +Americaine--that was in Hipps' honour. But perhaps you don't care for +shellfish, Barraclough." + +"No, no, thank you. Prefer a Spartan diet. Glass of water and a piece +of bread." + +"Bread? Yes. I hope the baker remembered to call. Be awkward if---- +Well, come along, Chief, no good letting things get cold." + +They passed out of the room and the bolt slammed home. + +With a crazy impulse Richard staggered across the floor, seized the +door handle and shook it violently. One of those violent paroxysms of +hunger suddenly possessed him which while they endure are acute agony. +The longing for food gripped at his vitals like an eagle's claw and +drove reasoned action from his head. He knew well enough that there +was no escape to be made through the shuttered windows but ignoring the +knowledge he leapt toward them and seized the iron cross-bar. As he +lifted it from its slot the alarm bell above the frame rang out a fiery +summons. + +He fell back a pace beating the air impotently and whining. The door +opened and Blayney and Parker, the two men servants, entered. Parker +placed a tray on the table, then returned to stand in the open doorway. +Blayney, ignoring Richard's presence, replaced the shutter bar in its +old position and the bell stopped ringing. Then he turned and said: + +"I shouldn't advise you, to try the window, sir. There's a strong +electric current passes through the catch." + +"Thank you," said Richard and slouched despondently toward the table +where his glance fell upon the tray. Whatever victuals had been +provided were concealed beneath a small silver cover but there was a +napkin, a knife and fork and a cruet. On the whole it looked rather +promising. Then suddenly he noticed that the glass beside the plate +contained barely an inch of water. + +"I say," he exclaimed, "look! Can't I have a jog of water? There +isn't----" + +"Not today, sir," said Blayney. + +The very courtesy of the man was an incentive to fury. + +"Yes, but----" + +"Not today, sir." + +Parker in the doorway grinned. + +"Don't smirk at me, blast you," said Richard. + +Blayney nodded toward the bedroom and changed places with his +companion. When Parker came out he was carrying a great pile of +bedclothes. + +"Here, what are you doing? Put 'em down. D'you hear me?" + +"My orders were to take them away, sir." + +As Laurence had said it was useless to fight against present odds. +Richard shut his teeth tight. + +"Obey your orders," he said, but as the door was closing the craving +for drink mastered his pride. "For God's sake," he cried, "for God's +sake give me some more water. I'll give you twenty for a jug of +water--honest I will--twenty----" + +Blayney laid a finger to his lips and went out. The gesture might have +meant anything. With trembling hand Richard seized the glass of water +and drained it at a gulp. There was miserably little--it barely cooled +the heat of his throat. Whimpering he set the glass down and lifted +the cover from the plate. Underneath was a cube of bread the size of a +lump of sugar. With a savage cry he picked it up and flung it across +the room but a moment later was on all fours gathering up the broken +bits and pieces and eating them wolfishly. + +Blayney found him searching pathetically for the last crumb when he +came stealthily into the room and put a tin mug on the table. + +"I'll collect that twenty later," he said and vanished. + +Almost like a miser Richard took the mug in his hands and purred over +it possessively. With a sigh of absolute content he raised it to his +lips. Then a scream broke from him--harsh, strident, savage. There +were no soft spots in the walls of Hugo Van Diest's fortress. The +water was salt. + + + + +CHAPTER 19. + +AT THE CHESTNUTS. + +Mrs. Barraclough was one of those old ladies who are constantly being +surprised. She courted surprise. She never forestalled a climax and +of the hundreds of sensational novels which she so greedily devoured +never once was she guilty of taking a premature peep at the last +chapter to ensure herself that right would triumph. "I shall find out +all about it in good time" was the motto she affected. This being so +she made no effort to secure Isabel's confidence but simply waited for +Isabel to speak. The same reticence possessed her in the matter of the +four mysterious serving girls. She hadn't the smallest idea why +Anthony had suddenly transformed himself into a domestic agency +although, at the back of her head, she guessed at a deep underlying +motive. It gratified her beyond measure to be surrounded by unfathomed +waters and frequently as a corollary to her prayers she would thank God +for the little excitements and mysteries He sent to flavour her +declining years. + +After the uncontrollable rush of tears on her arrival Isabel pulled +herself together and made a show of gaiety and preserved it nobly for +nearly three weeks. Anthony had gone and gloomy forebodings were of no +service. Accordingly she helped Mrs. Barraclough in the garden and +made the very best friends of the four girls. Perhaps she was the +least bit resentful on finding out that they knew almost as much of +Anthony's plans as she herself. + +"But did he tell you?" she asked in surprise. + +"It's like this," said Flora who generally spoke for the company. +"Jane and myself were with him in the Secret Service during the last +year of the war." + +"He got us the job," Jane interpolated. She was a big, bonny girl with +broad shoulders, steady blue eyes and a complexion that would have +advertised any health resort. "Cook kicks herself that she wasn't in +that show." + +It was at this point Mrs. Barraclough came into the room. + +"Kicks herself! What a very unbecoming expression, Jane." + +"Sorry, madam," said Jane and she and Flora sniggered uncontrollably. + +"You girls perplex me greatly," said Mrs. Barraclough. "You do not +laugh in the least like ordinary servants." + +"How do ordinary servants laugh?" Jane asked. + +"Generally speaking, in a high note that echoes distressingly +throughout the house, whereas you laugh like young ladies." + +"Oh, you old darling," exclaimed Flora with sudden impulsiveness. "I +suppose if a decent education and upbringing counts for anything that's +just what we are." + +Mrs. Barraclough sat down rather abruptly on a small upright sofa in +the centre of the room. + +"Then for goodness sake tell me what you are doing in my kitchen." + +There was no escaping the explanation especially when Isabel +contributed: + +"Come on, Flora, out with it." + +"It's this way, madam. Lots of us went broke after the war--lots of us +who'd only fifty quid a year to live on." + +"Quid?" said Mrs. Barraclough. "Isn't that something to do with +sailors and tobacco?" + +"Pounds, then. We ran across Mr. Anthony out in France." + +"Picked him out of a ditch near Arras with a bullet through his foot," +Jane contributed. + +"And after that got most awfully friendly and kept knocking up against +each other." + +Mrs. Barraclough shook her head. + +"It must have been very painful for him with a bullet through his foot." + +"When he heard we'd gone broke he said--just like him--'my mother's a +sport, go and look after her.'" + +"So I'm a sport," said Mrs. Barraclough with a smile. "But even so, +why should I want looking after?" + +"That's what puzzles me," said Isabel. + +Jane and Flora exchanged glances. + +"I don't know whether we ought to," said Jane. + +"He's my fiance," said Isabel, "and you're jolly well not going to keep +me in the dark." + +"And quite incidentally," Mrs. Barraclough remarked, "he's my son." + +"Oh, very well," said Flora. "It seems he was all over some great big, +get rich quick scheme--and there was a chance anyone connected with him +might be got at." + +"Got at!" Mrs. Barraclough's dark eyes opened a little wider. + +"Um! A tough crowd was up against him you see." + +"I see." The old lady nodded gravely but there was a sparkle of +excitement in her expression. "So you and Jane and Cynthia and Agnes +are here to protect me against the assaults of--of a 'tough crowd.'" + +"We're here if we're wanted," said Jane robustly. + +"And somehow," said Flora, "I think we shall be wanted." + +Mrs. Barraclough's hands went out and she drew the two girls a little +closer. + +"My dears," she said, "I don't know why but lately I've had a pringly +sort of feeling--as if something were going to happen. It's a sense of +adventure perhaps. I used to be a very wild girl myself." + +"But you mustn't worry," said Isabel. "It's sure to turn out all +right, you know." + +"I'm not worrying. I'm only hoping that if anything does happen I +shall be in it." + +"But look here," exclaimed Flora, "that's the very thing he wants to +prevent." + +"Yes, yes, but I know my Anthony, bless him. It would be so beautiful +to help him again after all these years." She smiled retrospectively. +"When he was a little boy he was always coming into conflict with his +father. Poor Mr. Barraclough, he was a very austere man and Anthony's +scrapes inspired from him the severest judgments. Tony had a little +signal--he was much too proud to speak--he used to take out his pocket +handkerchief and quite carelessly tie a knot in the centre. Whenever +he did that I used to come to his aid. Dear Tony, I was always the one +to rescue him from difficulty." + +"He gets his pluck from you," said Flora. + +"His father was a brave man too, until he had a little misfortune with +a mule which rather upset his balance." + +"Generally does," Isabel laughed. + +"Mental balance," Mrs. Barraclough corrected. "For the last few years +of his life he thought he was Archbishop of Canterbury and if dead +people think I'm sure he believes he is buried in Westminster Abbey. +There, run along, my dears, and leave me to collect my thoughts." + +But she kissed Flora and Jane before letting them go. Isabel stayed in +the room. + +"So my boy is in danger," said Mrs. Barraclough with the least touch of +tragedy in her voice. Isabel came forward and put an arm around her +neck. "You knew, my dear?" + +Isabel nodded. + +"They oughtn't to have told you." + +Mrs. Barraclough snorted defiantly. + +"Stuff and nonsense. Think I hadn't guessed? After all, a proper man +ought to be in danger. Besides," she added, "he's a good enough +reason, hasn't he?" + +"What reason?" + +"Doesn't he want to marry you?" + +"I know," said Isabel forlornly, "but that would have happened in any +case." + +"Don't you be too sure, my dear. Now I'm going to let you into my +confidence--mind I'm only putting two and two together but I'm pretty +sure I've got the total right. Did you know that Tony had put every +penny he possessed into this enterprise?" + +Isabel started. + +"No. What makes you believe that?" + +"Because all I've got is in it too, and he would never ask of me what +he feared to do himself." + +"Then you know all about it?" + +"Hardly anything." + +"But he oughtn't----" + +"I think the risks and dangers came afterward." + +"Even so," said Isabel, "it's just for money. That's what I hate so." + +"Isn't it just for you," said Mrs. Barraclough gently. "Just because +if he failed he wouldn't be able to make you his wife." + +"He never told me." + +"Of course he didn't. How could he?" + +"Are you sure of all this?" + +"Practically certain. You see his Uncle Arthur is executor of Tony's +affairs. Executors are not supposed to speak but Uncle Arthur was an +exception who proves the rule." + +"For me," said Isabel slowly. "For our marriage--for us. Oh, I'm so +glad it wasn't for cash." A cloud came over her brow. "But it makes +it frightfully difficult for me supposing I had to----" + +"What?" + +"I mustn't say--even to you." + +Mrs. Barraclough didn't press for an answer. She was pleased there was +a little bit of mystery left over. + +Isabel kissed the old lady very tenderly and walked out into the rose +garden by herself. There was a glow on her cheeks almost as pink as +the roses themselves. It was a sweet relief that Anthony had gone into +these dangers more for her sake than any other reason and that their +happiness and future rested on his success. In her twenty-one years of +life she had come too much into contact with men whose ruling passion +was the dollar to the exclusion of all else. At the back of her head +the fear had haunted her that Anthony had been bitten by the money +bug--the hateful contagion that straightened and thinned the lips, +chilled the emotions and case-hardened the kindliest natures. But now +that fear was gone to be replaced with glad assurance. + +On a semi-circular stone bench that backed the roadside hedge Isabel +sat and hugged her knees and here a few moments later she was joined by +Flora. + +"He's a topper, your man," said Flora. "A downright first rater." + +Isabel grinned an acknowledgment. + +"Did he have any trouble in getting away?" + +"Awful, I believe, but--but they had a plan which he said would make it +easy." + +On the road side of the hedge, barely three feet away, a clergyman, who +apparently was seeking protection from the sun, moved sharply and +cocked a listening ear. + +"What plan?" + +"He didn't tell me that and anyhow I shouldn't be allowed to repeat it." + +The listening clergyman looked disappointed. + +"Do you know what he was going after?" + +"Yes, I know." + +"Wouldn't care to tell anyone, I s'pose. I'm as safe as a house." + +"I'm certain you are, only----" + +"Oh, well, it doesn't matter so long as he got away all right. He did +get away all right, didn't he?" + +"Yes, I--I think so--he must have or his servant, Doran, would have +told me." + +Harrison Smith, on the far side of the hedge, pushed back his clerical +hat and frowned deeply. + +"And you had no message?" + +Isabel shook her head. + +"None. So I just tell myself everything is all right." + +"Oh, I'm sure it is--certain," said Flora ecstatically. "It's bound to +be. Mr. Anthony'd never let himself be beaten by any crowd." She +paused. "If only one could be in it--but nothing ever happens down +here. Are you staying much longer?" + +"Going back tomorrow or the next day. I must be in Town on the night +of the 18th." + +"That the day he's expected?" + +"Yes, at eleven o'clock." + +"Wish I could be there to give him a cheer when he comes in." + +Isabel slipped an arm through Flora's. + +"It's great of you to be so keen," she said. + +"Think so," Flora replied. "Jolly sporting of you not to mind. We've +got a bit of a 'pash' on Mr. Anthony, you know." + +"I thought you had," said Isabel sympathetically. + +"Kind of hero worship it is. Nothing to bother about 'cos as matter of +fact we're all engaged--'cept Cook who hates men. But even Cook can't +help admiring him. Be a sport and let us know if he gets through all +right. You could 'phone." + +"I will." + +"Any notion which port he'll arrive at?" + +"Couldn't say. I've a sort of idea that it might be one of the little +Cornish fishing villages." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"No particular reason only----" + +"Yes, go on--be a pal." + +"You won't repeat it?" + +"No fear." + +"There was a West Country guide book on his table one day and I +happened to glance at it." + +"Um." + +"Ever heard of Polperro?" + +"Yes." + +"On one of the maps Polperro had a pencil line ringed round it and a +couple of very small dots marked in certain places." + +"That might have been years old." + +"It wasn't. I had lent him a blue pencil a few days before--rather a +funny colour it was. He'd used that pencil." + +"You're a bit of a Sherlock." + +"I oughtn't to have said anything about it." + +"It's safe enough with me," said Flora. "You can bet your boots I +shan't blab." + +A silvery toned bell sounded from the house. + +"There's tea," said Isabel. + +The two girls rose and moved away arm in arm. + +Mr. Harrison Smith pulled out his watch and looked at the dial. + +"With luck I can catch it," said he. + +And through the drawing room window Mrs. Barraclough saw the unusual +spectacle of a clergyman running like fury in the direction of the +railway station. As she remarked a few moments later: + +"This is indeed an age of speed. Even the delivery of the Gospel is +conducted by express service." + + + + +CHAPTER 20. + +A LITTLE HOUSEBREAKING. + +The train which conveyed Mr. Harrison Smith back to London stopped at +every intermediate station and did not arrive until after ten o'clock. +He, therefore, was given leisure for thought and the result of his +thinking was to bring him perilously near the truth. + +He began with the premise that somehow Anthony Barraclough had +succeeded in making good his escape--that he was even now obtaining the +concession--that he would return to London on the night of the 18th +instant at eleven o'clock in all probability carrying the document upon +his person. All this was plain sailing but against it was the +established fact that Anthony Barraclough was imprisoned in Laurence's +house. If this were indeed the case further investigation was useless. +But was it the case? + +The girl Isabel Irish had said there was a plan to make his exit from +London easy but no evidence had been given to suggest that this plan, +whatever it was, had been put into operation. Torrington's syndicate +was not composed of fools and yet the kidnapping of Barraclough had +been mere child's play without a speck of opposition. His own side had +been guilty of an act of crass stupidity in failing to carry off the +servant Doran as well as his master. It was one of those tragic +oversights which occur in the most carefully laid plans. +Unquestionably Doran would have told his employers what happened on the +night of the 27th and they could hardly have failed to guess the truth. +And yet, as private information assured him, not the smallest effort +had been made to rescue the man in whose brain was a secret worth +millions. And quite suddenly the truth, or a guess at the truth, +dawned upon him. Torrington's crowd must have been aware of the +intention to kidnap Barraclough and for a reason known only to +themselves had deliberately allowed it to take place. Why? Had +another man been sent in Barraclough's place? He dismissed that theory +without dissection. The shape of Barraclough's jaw and the line of his +mouth belonged to the type that does not unduly trust his fellow men. +Why? Was another man occupying Barraclough's place--deputising for him +in his absence? + +Harrison Smith struck one hand against the other. "By God," he +exclaimed. "It's the most unlikely thing in the world but I'm going to +believe it. I'm going to believe that the chap with the humorous lines +round his eyes is no more Barraclough than I am." + +He alighted at Waterloo Station aglow with excitement. His first +thought was to proceed post haste to Laurence's house and lay before +them the result of his deductions, but a second and more personal +consideration dissuaded him. There had been little enough +encouragement when last he interfered. He had been rudely ordered to +leave things alone. No, he would work out this deal himself and if +anything came of it approach Van Diest and Hipps for a lion's share of +the plunder. Weeks ago it had been arranged; if by any means +Barraclough succeeded in slipping through the outposts and obtaining +the concession, he was to be quietly thugged on his return and the +paper destroyed. As Ezra Hipps had said, "If we fail to get it for +ourselves it's damn sure no one else is going to profit." Wherefore +all he had to do was to intercept the returning treasure seeker, put +him securely away and then talk business to his own employers. + +Harrison Smith hailed a taxi and told the driver to go down the +Commercial Road as far as the Poplar Town Hall. This was not a job +that could be tackled single handed--on the other hand it would be +unwise to admit more people to his confidence than were absolutely +necessary. He dismissed the taxi and proceeded on foot down one of the +narrow crooked byways abounding in that region. The place was quiet +and deserted save for a few Orientals--Lascars and Chinamen--who leaned +against the walls of their dwellings in silent contemplation of the +stars. + +At the side door of a small and disreputable public house he paused and +knocked thrice with the handle of his cane and presently the door was +opened by a girl. She was a Jewess and lovely to look at, with the +fresh, shameless beauty peculiar to very young girls of that faith. +Recognising Harrison Smith she smiled a welcome and said: + +"You're in luck--he's sober! Upstairs, in the front room." + +She smiled again, revealing a perfect row of little white teeth which +mocked the string of cheap pearls at her throat. As he climbed the +stairs Harrison Smith speculated on the odd contrast this girl +presented to her surroundings. The silk of her stockings, the bangles +and gewgaws, the ultra patent leather of her shoes, bore so little +relation to the squalor of the narrow passage with its damp stained +walls, carpetless floor and hissing gas jet. Probably nowhere in the +world do greater incongruities exist than in the East End of London. + +Mr. Alfred Bolt, minus coat, collar, tie and shoes, was seated in an +arm chair, his feet reposing upon the mantel-piece. At his elbow was a +glass of whiskey and water with a slice of lemon floating on the +surface. His waistcoat was undone and the white of his shirt +emphasised the enormous girth of his corporation. His legs were short, +his hands fat, his face round and margined with a half circle of hair +beneath the chin. At the first glance you would have taken him for the +model from which Will Owen must have illustrated the stories of W. W. +Jacobs. One would have expected him to remind the passer-by that it +was "a nice day for a sail" or alternatively to demand "Any more for +the Skylark?" But a closer inspection would have shaken the foundation +of so simple a belief for Mr. Alfred Bolt's eyes were not of the honest +kind worn by men who go down to the sea in ships. They were close set, +narrow lidded, cunning, piggy little eyes that caused unrest to look +upon. + +At the sight of Harrison Smith he removed his feet from the mantelpiece +and extended an open armed welcome. + +"Welcome and thrice welcome, my dear brother," he intoned in an +admirable imitation of the accepted ecclesiastical method. "I rejoice +indeed to observe that you are now in Holy Orders." Then with a drop +into the vernacular. "Blind me, Smith, what the hell are you doing +with your collar back to front?" + +Harrison Smith gave a hurried explanation. + +"But I thought that job was cleared up," said Bolt. + +"Maybe it is, but there's a chance of a big coup that no one expected. +Now, if you care to take a hand." + +Mr. Bolt fancied himself as a mimic, indeed he harboured the opinion +that he was a peer even to the late Sir Henry Irving in the matter of +"take offs." He could imitate a cat or a Chinaman, while his thumb +nail impressions of sundry Hebraic neighbours were only rivalled by his +flawless caricatures of natives of Germany or the New Hebrides. But +best of all he loved to assume the inflexion, guise and bearing of a +member of the clergy--a circumstance very possibly explained by the +fact that his own private life was as far removed from the office of +virtue as could be imagined. + +"Be unafraid, my son," quoth he. "If your heart is full speak into my +listening ear and may a blessing fall on your confession." Then +fashioning a trumpet with his two hands he bellowed like a fog horn: +"Becky! A drop of whiskey hot for the gent." And while the +refreshment was being procured he observed parenthetically: "A nice +little piece, ain't she? Very smart and dossy. Come on, Smith, my +boy--my jolly old beau--dear old cracker, soak up the juice of the +barley and expound the tale of woe." + +Harrison Smith wasted no time in explaining the case while Bolt +listened with great concentration, nodding approval at this point or +that. + +"Hm! Worth trying anyway," he agreed. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Take over my place at Clyst St. Mary. Can't explain why but I've a +sort of notion things may happen there. It's a queer household--lot of +smart girls looking after an old woman--Barraclough's mother." + +"What's she like?" + +"Never got near enough to find out. Decent enough old thing. Goes to +church a lot." + +"Shrewd?" + +"Never struck me so at a distance. Might be anything--bit of a +fool--mostly are--that old country sort." + +Mr. Bolt mused. + +"Goes to church, does she." His eyes travelled over Harrison Smith's +black garments. "Why didn't you call?" + +"Didn't strike me. Fancy she knows very little." + +"'Curs to me," said Bolt, "I might do the clergyman stunt myself in +those parts. I've got some stuff. A bit of the old Wesley--'Quiet +harbourage from the turmoil of city life, my dear lady. An occasional +hour in your beautiful garden.' That's the ticket." + +"Then get off straight away. There's a train at five a.m. from +Waterloo. You can have my room at the pub. I'll give you a note to +the proprietor." + +"And assuming I meet brother Barraclough?" + +"Get him," responded Harrison Smith laconically. "Make as little fuss +as possible but get him." + +Mr. Bolt nodded and the piggy little eyes twinkled greedily. + +"Trust me," he said. "Anything else you want?" + +Harrison Smith thought for a moment. + +"That chap Dirk," he said. "Could you find him for me?" + +"Sure." + +"Then tell him to meet me at Paddington tomorrow morning 9.50." + +"Right." + +"And you might lend me that bunch of spring-lock keys." + +"Going to have a squint at that guide book?" queried Bolt shrewdly as +he turned over the contents of a table drawer in search of the keys. + +"Going to have a try," came the answer. + +Bolt rippled out a fat, greasy chuckle. + +"Pleasure to work with you, Smith," said he. "Yes indeed. Though it's +a bit risky putting one over on the Dutchman." He fell into a thick, +guttural "S'bad--s'bad pizness. Dese servants wass ver' insubordinate. +S'bad. Well, good luck, ole boy." + +They shook hands cordially. + +The Commercial Road was deserted when Harrison Smith came out of the +narrow byway. The chance of finding a conveyance was small but his +practical sense suggested turning into the West India Dock Road where, +at the gates of the dock, he had the good fortune to secure a +dilapidated four-wheeler. Progress was painfully slow and hours seemed +to pass before they finally turned out of the broad cobbled highway and +passed through the silent empty city. Two o'clock was striking when he +dismissed the cab in Piccadilly. At his own rooms in Crown Court, St. +James's, he changed into ordinary clothes and proceeded on foot to +Albemarle Street. Before the entrance to Crest Chambers Harrison Smith +stopped and broke into a torrent of imprecation. He had forgotten that +the downstairs door would be shut. It was of heavy mahogany and +secured by an ordinary variety of lock against which the bunch of keys +in his pocket were of no service whatsoever. He was shaking his fist +angrily when the sound of footsteps accompanied by a snatch of song +attracted his attention. A young man in evening dress, wearing an +opera hat at a raffish angle and carrying his hands in his trousers +pockets turned out of the adjoining side street and approached the spot +where he was standing. A single glance was enough to convince Harrison +Smith that the young man was in a state of spiritual exaltation +bordering on ecstasy. The words of a song he sang sounded unnaturally +clear--like music from another planet. + +"I'm one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit," he sang over +and over again as though the words contained relish enough to justify +any limit of repetition. Coming abreast of Harrison Smith he halted +abruptly and, rocking on his heels, broke into a cherubic smile. + +"Goo' man," he said. "Les-see, it's ol' Petersh, ishn't it?" + +"That's it," said Harrison Smith, "old Peters." + +With startling suddenness the young man produced a latch key and thrust +it into Harrison Smith's palm. + +"Ope' th' door, ol' top. Ope' door an' we'll have a quick lil' spot +together." + +Here was unlooked for good fortune of which Harrison Smith lost no time +in availing himself. Lending a trifling support to his impromptu host +they entered the building and ascended in the electric lift to the +fourth floor. There was a brass plate on the front door which informed +the curious that the owner of the flat was called Royston. + +"Just a quick one," said Smith as they entered a comfortable sitting +room adorned by photographs of lovely ladies. "I've had a trying day +and want to turn in." + +"T'hell with that," said Royston. "Wha's matter with seein' in the +dawn?" + +He produced a bottle of whiskey and two glasses--not without casualties +among their fellows--set them on a coffin stool and fell into a deep +arm chair. + +"Help 'self and help me--'cos I'm ver' tired--ov' tired." + +Harrison Smith embraced the opportunity of pouring out a perfect +deadener for his host into which he discreetly added a pinch of cigar +ash from a convenient stump (a concoction which in the absence of more +potent drugs will produce very gratifying results). + +While he was so employed Mr. Royston descanted freely on the subject of +lovely women in the choice of which he declared himself to be an +epicure. + +"See that one--pho' frame--piano. Tho'bred--perfect tho'bred--a +darling--love 'er--love 'em all." + +"That's the talk," said Harrison Smith who was cursing the enforced +delay. "Drink her health, old man, and no heel taps." + +Mr. Royston rose nobly to the occasion and swallowed the contents of +his glass at a single gulp. + +"Blesh 'em!" he said. "Blesh 'em." + +He seized the arm of his chair while the room spun round him in a dizzy +whirl. + +"Blast you, Petersh," he cried. "Thash pre-war whiskey. Sh-shot me +clean through the brain pan. C-caught in the brewersh web." + +He swayed a little and settled down on the floor by sections. Harrison +Smith stooped and put a cushion beneath his head. + +"All ri' soon--qui' all ri'. Fac' is I'm one of the ruins Crom'll +knocked about a bit." The voice tailed away into a deep, slumberous +groan. + +A minute later Harrison Smith was at the door of Barraclough's flat on +the landing below. The fourth key on the bunch turned the latch and +silently as a cat he slipped into the hall. A quick observation of the +chambers above had given him a fair idea of which room was which and he +had no trouble in locating the study door in the dark. Before turning +on a light he assured himself that the window curtains were drawn. He +realised the need to be very silent in all his actions since +Barraclough's servant was in all probability sleeping on the premises +and ex-service men of the regular army have an awkward knack of +sleeping lightly. He closed the door without even a click from the +latch, then turned up a standard lamp that stood on the writing table. +In the pen tray beneath the lamp was a blue pencil--a new one--since +obviously it had never been sharpened and the chalk point was scarcely +worn at all. The other end of the pencil had been deeply bitten in a +dozen places, a circumstance which Harrison Smith noted with +satisfaction. The other pencils and pens in the tray bore no teeth +marks. It was reasonable, therefore, to surmise that its owner had +been engaged in some knotty and puzzling problem at the time of use. + +"I believe the girl was on the right track," he muttered to himself and +turned his attention to the bookshelves. One of the cases was given +over entirely to a collection of local guide books surprisingly +complete in map and detail. There were four volumes dealing with +Cornwall and it was only the matter of a moment to find the one to +which Isabel had referred. Bringing it to the light Harrison Smith +hastily turned over the pages until he came to the squared map that +showed the village of Polperro. But here disappointment awaited +him--for not a sign of the blue pencil mark showed upon the page. He +was on the point of closing the book when he made a discovery. + +The light striking across the paper revealed the fact that the surface +in places bore a polished appearance. The reason was significant. +Barraclough, leaving nothing to chance, had erased the pencil marks +with indiarubber. If anything could emphasise the value of his +discovery surely it was this and Harrison Smith fairly tingled with +excitement. He picked up a magnifying glass and closely examined the +erasement. There had been a line drawn round the village and on the +outskirts, where three cottages clustered together, was the impression +of a single dot. At roughly a mile inland from the village where a +footpath converged with the road was another dot, seemingly situated in +the middle of a clump of trees. + +Harrison Smith was satisfied. He hastily dropped the book into his +pocket, restored its fellows to their former position on the shelves +and tiptoed across the room to extinguish the light. Thus far Fortune +had favoured him, but she is a capricious lady wont to change her +allegiance with startling suddenness. If there had been a length of +yellow flex to the electric standard the accident would never have +happened. It is simply asking for trouble to use red flex on a red +carpet. Harrison Smith's foot tangled in the wire and down came the +table lamp with a crash. Simultaneously there came a shout from +another part of the flat. For a second Harrison Smith stood spellbound +at the disaster he had caused--robbed of the power of action. + +It was the sound of bare feet pattering on the parquet of the hall that +restored his senses and as the door of the room flew open he stamped on +the still burning electric bulb lying at his feet. The detonation as +it flew into fragments came simultaneously with the sharp, stinging +report of a small calibre pistol. The room was plunged into utter +darkness in which could be heard the sound of two men breathing and the +zinging of the mantelpiece brasses from the double explosion. Then +silence--no movement--and the mind of Harrison Smith worked like a +streak of lightning. His hand was on the back of a heavy arm chair and +the touch of it suggested an idea. + +He gave a thin, whispering sigh and cried out in a high pitched voice. + +"My God! You've killed me!" + +Then he tilted back the arm chair and allowed it to fall with a soft +thud to the floor. + +Another silence, then the sound of a man moving forward. Harrison +Smith side stepped and, keeping in touch with the wall, navigated +through the darkness toward the door. + +"Serve you damn well right," said Doran in a voice that was startlingly +near. + +Harrison Smith's luck had returned. He found the door and passed +through it and down the hall as quietly as a draught. He heard a click +as Doran switched up the lights, followed by an oath. Then he streaked +down the main stairway with a flight and a half start. A second was +lost at the hall door fumbling for the latch and in that second Doran +fired again but missed. As Harrison Smith shot out into Albemarle +Street he collided heavily with a constable, attracted to the scene by +the noise of the shots, but him he overturned to such good effect that +he was crossing Piccadilly before the blast of the inevitable whistle +screeched through the night. There was no further opposition to his +progress and in St. James's Street he fell into a walk and finally +entered his own apartment unobserved. + +A little breathless but entirely satisfied he flung himself on the bed +for a couple of hours' sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER 21. + +THE CORNISH RIVIERA. + +In the summer time all the best people, and many who fall short of +perfection, go westward to the Cornish Riviera. It is the thing to do. +The taxi, the station 'bus, the private automobile, and even the almost +extinct four-wheeler, high laden with luggage, by common consent roll +down the slope into Paddington and deliver up their cargoes. Long are +the queues at the booking offices, thronged the platforms, and loud the +voices of those who command. Each little party of voyagers would seem +to have its own alarums as an inevitable adjunct to excursion. The +genius for organising is manifest on all sides with resultant chaos. +Orders and injunctions are flung broadcast--misinterpreted and +sometimes abused. The germ of panic infects the multitude. + +There was nothing Freddie Dirk liked better than a holiday crowd. They +inspired in him a sense of profound gratitude. Their generosity was +boundless. To a gentleman of his skill in the matter of property +exchange they represented a fortune. Whatsoever the imagination might +picture and the heart of man covet could be had at the mere turn of a +hand. + +His appointment with Harrison Smith was for 9.50, but Freddie Dirk +arrived half an hour ahead of time and this grace he put to excellent +account. He had learnt from Bolt that Cornwall was their destination, +wherefore his first care was to procure two first-class tickets for +Plymouth from the cuff of a gentleman's raincoat--a feat in strict +accordance with the laws of economy. The high cost of living had of +late reduced his supply of ready cash, on which account he could hardly +be blamed for taking possession of a wad of notes carelessly entrusted +to a side pocket by another passenger who was seeking to economise by +carrying his own bag. Being an essentially practical man Freddie Dirk +resisted the temptation to acquire a suitcase in crocodile by Pound. +Reticence in the matter did him credit and he rewarded himself with a +single stone diamond scarf pin that greatly enhanced the appearance of +his own cravat. He was debating with himself the question of a string +of pearls of no very great value when Harrison Smith's hand fell upon +his shoulder. + +"That's a blame silly thing to do," said Dirk when he had recovered +from his initial surprise. "Blame silly. Might 'ave a bit more +respec' for a man's nerves." + +Harrison Smith cursed him fluently as he led the way to a Ford car +standing in the yard. + +"Lot of use to me you'd have been if the splits had got you. It's a +big job we're tackling and I don't want it spoilt by dam-fool sneak +thief tricks." + +Freddie Dirk apologised and explained his distaste for idleness. + +"Ain't we going by train--'cos I got the tickets." + +"No." + +"Well, 'ang on a minute while I gets the money back." + +But even this business coup was denied and with a sense of opportunity +lost he entered the car. + +There was nothing prepossessing in Freddie Dirk's appearance. He was +of the low brow, heavy jaw, bruiser type. The term a "tough" fits him +closely. He had a punch like a kick from a dray horse but when called +upon to use his hands he preferred to rely upon his mascot to ensure +success. Freddie's mascot was a few lengths of whalebone bound with +twine and socketed into a pear-shaped lump of lead. Scientifically +wielded it would go through the helmet of a City policeman like a hot +knife through butter. He had a healthy dislike for firearms which was +perhaps the primary cause of his failure to serve King and Country in +the late war. His skill as a draft dodger had earned him a great +reputation among many of his fellows equally diffident in their will to +serve. + +"I've got you into this," said Harrison Smith as they chugged up the +station incline, "because I want a man who'll stick at nothing." + +Dirk nodded. + +"There's a chance we may have to----" + +"That's orl rite--least said soonest mended." + +"Barraclough is a bit of a bear cat and if he's got the concession on +him you can lay odds he'll fight." + +"If he's got the blinking thing don't see 'ow we're going to make much +aht of it." + +"Wouldn't his own side pay a goodish cheque? And wouldn't old Van cash +in to have it destroyed." + +Dirk grinned very prettily revealing his broken front teeth in all the +glory of the morning sun. + +"I get you. A private deal, like, favouring whichever market pays +best." + +"That's the idea. There's a fortune in it if we get him tucked away in +some quiet place." + +"It's a treat to work with you," said Dirk enthusiastically. "I'll lay +a quart there ain't a finer 'ead piece than yours from 'Oxton to +'Ammersmith." + +"Thank you," said Harrison Smith. "Try and remember that and obey +orders quick as you get 'em." + +"That's rite, captain, that's the talk. Give me a man wot talks +strite." + +A Ford is a marvellous eater up of miles and Harrison Smith did not +spare his engine nor linger upon the way. Evening was falling when at +last they descended the hill into the little fishing village of +Polperro. They ran into the inn yard and tried to bespeak a lodging +for the night but in this they were unlucky for there was no +accommodation to be had. The best obtainable was a shake down in the +stable loft, granted on a promise to refrain from smoking. Having +refilled the petrol tank and assured themselves that the Ford was in +sound running order against the morrow's needs they entered the inn. + +"We'll get a snack now," said Harrison Smith, "and after that take a +look round and make a few enquiries." + +The schooners of ale provided by mine host to wash down the simple +country fare were entirely agreeable to Freddie Dirk's parched palate. +It had been a long day and, as he pointed out, refreshment had been all +too scarce. Harrison Smith might be, and undoubtedly was, an excellent +fellow but he did not understand the urgent need for beer without which +no good man was at his best. It was all very well going out and asking +questions and poking one's nose into this, that and the other but far +greater advantage was to be won by poking one's nose into deep foaming +tankards of beer. Closing hour came all too soon and it would be time +enough to seek fresh diversion after that unhappy event. + +Wishing to remain in the good graces of his companion Harrison Smith +shrugged his shoulders and sallied forth alone in the direction of the +quay. The tide was out and from the mud and sand came the pungent +ozonous smell of rotting sea vegetation. Dazzling white gulls wheeled +and hovered in the air or noisily disputed the possession of fragments +of fish and the offal of the market. In the pool a dozen trawlers, +green striped and numbered, with furled brown sails and slackened +rigging rode sweetly at anchor. A knot of seamen leaned against the +outer stone wall of the pier smoking pipes and gazing idly across the +opal coloured sea. A couple of artists were wrestling valiantly with +the thousand subtle difficulties of the scene--trying to transmit to +canvas the changing lights upon the water, the pink blush on the +white-washed houses and the dull grey shadows on the mud. It was a +scene calm and sweet enough to awaken gentleness and set romance astir +but in Harrison Smith's mind it inspired no more than a sense of doubt +and disappointment. Surely this tiny harbour was an unlikely landing +for a man to choose who carried in his pocket the key to millions. No +decent sized vessel would ever put into such a port. The place was +asleep--dead almost. + +A blasting conviction that the marks in the guide book had no +connection whatever with the business in hand came over him. +Barraclough might have put them there expressly to deceive the girl. +He was subtle enough to employ such a device. What if after all the +others were right and it was indeed Barraclough they had kidnapped? A +pretty fool he would look then. + +Shaking himself out of these melancholy forebodings Harrison Smith +approached an old seaman with the offer of a "good evening" and a fill +of tobacco. + +"Pretty quiet hereabouts," he remarked. + +The old man nodded. + +"Still I dare say you get steamers and such like popping in every day +to liven things up." + +"Bearn't draught enuff for steamers. They doan't bother us much, +steamers doan't." + +The reply was not encouraging. + +"I see the fishing fleet is at anchor. Weather too calm?" + +"Couldn't say thaat." + +"Going out tonight?" + +"Med-do." + +"And how do you get rid of your fish?" + +"Us sells 'er." + +"I mean do you send it up by road?" + +"Naw!" + +"Steam trawler comes in to collect it?" + +"Doan't come in--not very often it doan't." + +Harrison Smith turned away with a sigh, leaving the old man sucking at +his pipe and spitting reflectively. There was no illumination to be +found in that quarter. + +More than ever doubtful of success he passed slowly through the village +to its inland outskirts and there he paused to study the map. It might +be worth while taking a casual glance at the group of three cottages +marked by Barraclough with the pencil point. They were easily located +but their outward appearance suggested little enough connection with +the mystery. They were fashioned of grey Cornish granite with slate +roofs and the inevitable fuchsia bushes in the front gardens. One of +them boasted a small stock yard roughly cobbled, an open cowshed and +alongside a stable with a heavy double door. As a mere matter of form +Harrison Smith determined to take a glance inside but on approaching +the door he found it was fastened by an iron crossbar secured to an +eyelet by a large and well made padlock. The door fitted closely into +its architrave and there was no crack through which a man might see +into the stable. Once more his excitement revived. With a quick +glance over his shoulder to satisfy himself no one was about he +scrambled over the shale wall of the stock yard and passed to the rear +of the building. High up under the gable a few pieces of stone had +been removed for ventilation. A broken horse trough placed against the +wall served him as a ladder and a moment later he was peering through +the gap into the inky darkness of the stable. Nothing could be seen +so, with some difficulty, he struck a match and dropped it into the +space beyond. It went out in the fall but in the brief space while +still alight it revealed the bright parts of a long, low racing car. + +Harrison Smith dropped silently to the ground and his breath came short +and sharp. + +"I was right--I was right," he gasped. "Hispano Suisa by the look of +it--and fast too. Shouldn't have much chance against that outfit." + +Naturally enough he resolved that it would never do to allow +Barraclough to get as far as the stable. On the other hand it would be +a wise precaution to disable the big automobile in case of accident. +But between him and the carrying out of this resolve was an iron bar +and a padlock. To attempt violence against the door would surely +attract attention from the house. And all at once a simple and +effective alternative suggested itself. If he himself were unable to +enter the stable he would take measures to prevent the entrance of any +other person. There was no difficulty about that and when five minutes +later he strolled down the road toward the inn it was with the +comforting reflection that the keyhole of the padlock was entirely +filled up with clay and grit in such a manner that no key could ever +again force its way in. + +He found Dirk already settling himself down for the night and Harrison +Smith smote him boisterously on the back. + +"A red hot scent, my son," said he. "We're on the winning side. +Success, my boy--success." + +Freddie Dirk smiled beatifically through a fog of beer. + +"Goo' ni'," he murmured. + +"It's up with the dawn for you and me--and then success." + +Curious how success reacts even on the best balanced brain and +obliterates the most obvious considerations. Harrison Smith entirely +forgot the second blue dot on the map--the one situated a mile outside +the village where a little footpath converged with the high road. + + + + +CHAPTER 22. + +PLAIN SAILING. + +The steam trawler "Felice" out of Cherbourg was not much to look at, +but none the less she was a lady of virtue and of good intention. Her +engines had lost the sweet voice of youth through long argument and +bitter contest with the stern affronts of life. Where once they had +hummed and purred now they racketed and nagged, but they got through +the work none the less well on that account. The life of a fish wife +hardens the temperament and loosens the tongue and the "Felice" was no +exception to the rule. A plain, strident, powerful old woman bucketing +through calm and trouble with the same reproach for either. The +"Felice" wore rusty black--coarse and patched. She had long ago +forsaken her girlish waist band of royal blue esteeming such fallals +better suited to the children of the fleet. She was a no-nonsense +lady, one of the "up and doing and you be damned" sort, but she boasted +at least one unusual feature, the pride and envy of her fellows. She +was fitted with an aerial, the relic of an age when small vessels went +forth to sweep up big mines very often to be swept up themselves while +so engaged and to mention the fact by wireless in the short interval +between being struck and sinking. + +Anthony Barraclough, wrapped in a suit of borrowed oilskins, leaned +against the deck-house and grinned at the breaking day. Like a fire +opal the sun rose out of the sea, its first rays dissipating the +ghostlike wisps of fog that drifted over the water. The "Felice" was +shouldering her way up channel against the slap of a running tide and +the greeny-black waves, as yet undyed by the morning blue, spumed and +spattered over the bows and wetted her decks with a sharp salt rain. + +"Oh, Lord!" said Barraclough, dashing the spray out of his eyes. "Oh, +Lord! it's good to be alive." + +His hand travelled to an inside breast pocket and stayed there, his +fingers lovingly caressing a case of morocco leather. + +"And it's good to have brought it off. Damned good." His eyes looked +aloft to the sagging wires of the aerial. + +"Wonder if I dare send 'em a message. Better not perhaps. Besides, I +want the fun of springing it on 'em myself. Still, I might give 'em a +hint--something to set 'em thinking." + +He puzzled for a moment then broke into a fresh grin for a dainty +little code had suggested itself. It would be rather amusing to talk +to a group of financiers in the language of flowers. A memory of +Isabel's last words put the idea into his head when she had given him +the dog rose on the evening of his departure. + +"It means hope, Tony," and "Hope it is," he had replied. + +He turned to the little companion ladder and shouted into the dark +beneath. + +"Ohe, Jean Prevost, half a minute." + +And in answer appeared the head and shoulders of a short, thick-set, +twinkly eyed, unshaven man who gruffly demanded "Quoi?" + +Jean Prevost, skipper of the "Felice," was not an "oil painting" to +look at but he was just as reliable as the craft he commanded. He and +Barraclough had had dealings together during the war and they respected +each other. If Jean Prevost were proud of anything it was of his +acquaintance with Barraclough and the knowledge he esteemed himself to +possess of the English tongue. + +"Fizz me off a message on the wireless, there's a good soul." + +"Hah!" + +"Gerard, Regent Street, W. Deliver immediately single dog rose to Lord +Almont Frayne, Park Lane Mansions." + +Jean Prevost nodded and repeated the message verbatim. + +"That's it. Quick as you can." + +"I send 'im now, I blerdy will. We find ze trawlers blerdy soon." + +Jean Prevost showed a regrettable liberality in the use of this popular +adjective which he firmly believed lent vitality and refinement to any +sentence. + +"That'll set them thinking," said Barraclough, as he turned away with a +smile. "Ha, the Eddystone!" + +In direct line with their course rising like a thin twig out of the sea +showed the silhouette of the lighthouse, while between it and the now +faintly discernible mainland tiny dots of brown showed upon the water. + +Your true Englishman is an absurd creation for he cannot return to his +native land even after the shortest absence, he cannot see the faint +familiar landmarks, the nestling villages, the rolling downs, the white +chalk or grey granite of her battlements, without a throb of honest +grateful pride. An imperial singing sounds in his ears--tuned to the +measure of breaking surf--such a song as lovers sing whose single words +are no more than this, "I am yours and you are mine." + +"Tonight," he said. "Tonight I shall see her again." + +There was the appointment at his rooms at 11 o'clock when he would +place the concession in Mr. Torrington's hands. That would be a big +moment. He could imagine Cranbourne's unbridled enthusiasm, Lord +Almont's congratulations in the style of P. G. Wodehouse, and Cassis, +that person of dry ashes and parchment, unbending to the greatness of +the occasion. He, Barraclough, was a made man, every newspaper in the +country would send its reporters to clamour at his doors, every charity +seek his aid when the story and the magnitude of his find became known. +From an ordinary commonplace individual, he would be transformed into a +figure of the age, the observed of all eyes, the target of every +tongue. And yet, the world at his feet, the wealth, the prominence, +the power, the achievement, faded and dwindled into nothing at all +beside one absurd but adorable longing. It was the thought of Isabel +sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, resting her chin upon them, +looking at him with great wide open eyes, smiling at him with moist +trembling lips. + +Over head the aerial fizzed and crackled as his message voyaged forth +into space. The tiny dots between the Eddystone and the land took form +and detail and became the brown sails of a fishing fleet lolling idly +in the bay. + +A hand on his shoulder aroused him from his reverie and he turned to +find Jean Prevost standing beside him. + +Barraclough pointed to the North East. + +"Number fifty-seven," he said. + +The old skipper focussed a pair of binoculars and steadied them against +a stay of the funnel. + +"Zere," he said, and pointed at a solitary sail to the West of its +fellows. "Heem! You see?" + +Barraclough nodded. + +"Diamond's a reliable chap. Always as good as his word. How long +shall we be?" + +"Quarter hour--ten minit." + +Nothing more was said until the "Felice" came alongside the solitary +fishing boat from the bows of which a tall bronzed seaman gave them a +welcoming hail. + +"Good-bye and good luck, Jean Prevost," said Barraclough. "You'll hear +from me in a day or two." + +"And blerdy good luck to you," said the Frenchman gripping the extended +hand. + +Barraclough dropped over the side and landed on the stern sheets of +Number 57. A bell clanked and the "Felice" lurched away ruffing the +glassy water with her screw. + +"Be ye right?" demanded Diamond, drawing up the cable of his anchor. + +"Sure thing," said Barraclough. "Let her go." + +The anchor came out of the water with a plop, the brown sail was +twisted and a little auxiliary oil engine began to snort. + +"Wind's settin' just right," said Diamond, the sheet in one hand and +the tiller in the other. "Ye 'ad a good time?" + +"First rate. Tell you all about it one of these days." + +A friendly puff of wind from the South East filled the canvas and drove +them shoreward at a slant, the water lapping gently against the bows. +It seemed a very little while before they rounded the headland and +entered the narrow funnel of cliffs leading into Polperro. Not a soul +was to be seen at the breakwater, a circumstance Barraclough noted with +satisfaction, although he had no reason to expect opposition. They +lowered sail at the harbour mouth and came alongside a slippery wooden +ladder stapled into the stone wall of the pier. + +"Ye'll take a bite o' breakwus?" + +"Not this journey, Jack. I'm getting off as fast as I can. Here, +you'd better freeze on to these oil skins. No good to me." He +stripped off the coat he was wearing, shook hands, and mounted the +ladder. + +"Thanks awfully. I'll be down this way for my honeymoon. Good-bye." + +With a cheery wave and a smile he started down the jetty at a brisk +walk. + + + + +CHAPTER 23. + +AN ENCOUNTER. + +Anyone who is acquainted with the village of Polperro knows the stone +jetty which runs parallel with the horizon line of the sea. In length +it is perhaps eighty or a hundred yards. At its Western end it turns +at right angles past a terrace of old houses whose foundations are +washed by the tide. Barraclough had almost arrived at this point when +two men turned the corner and came toward him. One was a presentable +enough fellow, but his companion was a person of low class. They were +obviously in the heart of an altercation for the words, "You fill +yourself up with beer like a blasted barrel," preceded their appearance. + +Now there was one thing Barraclough never forgot--a man's voice--and as +the words came to his ears he stopped dead. The moment of mutual +recognition was almost instantaneous, but Barraclough had precisely one +second's start to recover from his surprise. Behind him was the jetty +surrounded by the sea, and the narrow passage in front was blocked by +enemies. + +Harrison Smith wasted a fraction of time crying out the name +"Barraclough!" Dirk fell back a pace fumbling for the pocket in which +he kept his "Mascot." It was a fatal mistake. Running down the length +of the jetty between the two men was a fisherman's net, and as Harrison +Smith sprang toward him pistol in hand, Barraclough ducked, seized the +net and raised it in the air. + +It was the barest fluke that the manoeuvre should have worked so well. +Harrison Smith stumbled heavily, grabbed at Dirk and missed him. +Barraclough's foot just above his waist line destroyed the last of his +equilibrium and over the edge he went into the shallow water below. +Unquestionably the beer was responsible for Dirk's failure to win the +engagement. His quarry was before him in an open position. He should +have used his Mascot and used it hard. It was sheer criminal stupidity +to have looked over the edge at his fallen commander. Maybe the angry +scarlet of Dirk's complexion provoked Barraclough's attack and before +the poor man had recovered from his surprise a heavy lobster pot came +smashing down over his face with agonising force, the splintering +basket-work playing havoc with his features. Then he, too, experienced +the unique sensation of gliding downward through space, a delight +somewhat marred by the rudeness of its finish. + +Barraclough did not stay to behold the result of his offensive, but +picked up his heels and ran. Just beyond the open fish market he saw a +neglected Ford car and hesitated an instant to debate whether or no he +should appropriate it. At the time he did not connect it with the two +men wallowing in harbour waters. Had he done so he would certainly +have driven it over the edge of the quay into the mud. His own car was +waiting less than a quarter of a mile away--an Hispano Suisa built for +speed--and the sense of speed ran through his own veins. As he raced +up the narrow, twisting street the good wives of the village turned on +their doorsteps, open mouthed, to watch him pass. He scarcely bothered +to glance over his shoulder satisfied that he had gained an easy five +minutes' start. Coming abreast of the three cottages he vaulted the +stock yard wall, threw open a gate and made for the stable door +fumbling in his pocket for the key of the padlock. + +And suddenly an oath broke from his lips crisp, concise, and covering. +The first trick had been scored by him but undoubtedly Harrison Smith +had won the second. The blocked up keyhole told its own tale. He knew +the door very well and it would be half an hour's work to break it +down, also he knew the padlock having bought it himself. The Hispano +Suisa would have to be abandoned. + +He did not waste time cursing, but instead leapt the shale wall and +took to the fields. A little footpath lay among the trees at the +meadow end and Anthony Barraclough made for it with all possible +dispatch jumping a brook and forcing his way through a fringe of thorn +and bramble. There had been no rain for some weeks and the going was +dry, a circumstance he noted with satisfaction, for your average +Cornish footpath is as much a waterway as a thoroughfare for +pedestrians. It was half a mile to his destination, a spot where the +path converged with the high road and as he ran, Barraclough covered +his face with his hand to avoid the swinging branches. A gap in the +trees gave a view of the village and as he flashed across it increasing +speed to avoid the risk of being seen he had a momentary glimpse of a +Ford car with two men in it stopping at the gate he had recently opened. + +"How in blazes they found out beats me," he gasped. + +A sickening fear assailed him that his second line of escape might also +have been blocked and, at the thought, he put out every ounce of speed +he possessed. It was better to know the worst at once. The path +widened out into a cart track and through an aisle of trees the white +patch of the high road came into view. + +A casual passer-by would never have noticed the low built pigsty that +butted on to the hedge, its roof and sides being almost completely +masked with brushwood and bramble vine. + +Barraclough could not resist an exclamation of joy as he noted that the +big piles of carelessly thrown kindlings were apparently untouched. He +kicked away great bundles of them with his foot, produced a key and +opened a small solid door. The relief was almost unbearable, but he +did not linger to offer up prayers of thanksgiving. + +The motor bicycle flashed bravely as he dragged it out into the sun, +turned on the petrol and set the controls. He shoved the gear lever +into second, lifted the exhaust and pushed, and the willing little twin +fired its first spluttering salvo as he bumped out of the rutted lane +into the main road. + +Concentration on the single object of getting away had dulled his ears +to other sounds, for normally he could not have failed to hear the +chuff-chuff of the approaching Ford. As he swung into the saddle he +saw it out of the corner of his eye and ducked. The vision of two +men--an excited yell and an oath--they were almost on top of him when +the twin took a healthy dose of the mixture and got away. Another +second and they would have ridden him down. Barraclough swerved to the +left to cut a corner and opened up. Harrison Smith did likewise, +choking his engine with too wide a throttle and losing a dozen yards in +half that number of seconds. + +"Shoot, blast you! Shoot, you blasted fool!" he roared at Dirk. + +Barraclough heard the order and swept over to the right to disturb the +aim as a couple of leaden hornets buzzed angrily past his ear striking +the macadam a hundred yards ahead and whining away into the distance. + +Freddie Dirk's execution with an automatic was below the quality of his +Mascot work. He cursed fluently as the shots flew wide and tried to +steady his aim by resting the Colt on the iron crosspiece of the wind +screen. + +"Take the wheel--take the wheel, damn you," cried Harrison Smith, +snatching at the pistol with his left hand. "You can't shoot that way." + +Somehow they contrived to change places. A sharp rise in the ground +had perceptibly slackened the speed of Barraclough's mount and he +reduced his lead still further by hanging on to the top gear a couple +of seconds too long. The Ford, on the other hand, was beginning to +improve and leapt at the hill eagerly. No more than fifty yards +separated pursued from pursuer. + +Harrison Smith sat on the back of the driving seat and bided his time. +A glance ahead showed him the road winding up interminably at the very +incline at which a Ford car develops its greatest efficiency and goes +sailing past nearly everything else on the road. + +"Got him," he said, "got him cold." + +This comforting reflection awoke in his breast a sporting fancy. After +all it was more fun to shoot a man than to ride him down. + +The little twin in front was labouring bravely at the hill, but its +muffled exhaust was pleading unmistakably for still another change +down. Barraclough knew very well that were he to accept this +invitation he would be lost. The only hope was to keep in second and +pray hard that the engine wouldn't conk out. A glance over his +shoulder revealed the Ford bounding up the hill toward him. Then it +was Harrison Smith fired. Barraclough saw the flash out of the tail of +his eye and simultaneously his motor cycle seemed to leap forward with +a noisy roar. The bullet had struck the exhaust pipe cutting it clear +of the silencer and making him a gift of five miles an hour. A new +life seemed to run through the veins of the machine and the hill +flattened out before him like a level track. As he realised the +charity of Fate, Barraclough lifted a gladsome "Yoicks" and waved his +right arm above his head. Again the pistol cracked and a red hot +knitting needle seemed to pass through the palm of his hand. As he +brought it back to the handle bar he saw a pale blue circle between his +first and second finger bubble into scarlet and black. + +"You scum, you dirty scum," he cried, "but it'll take more than a +bullet through the hand to bring down my flag." + +He jerked the gear lever back into top and shot full bore at the down +grade before him. As the Ford car breasted the top of the hill its +passengers were rewarded by the sight of a tiny speck of dust tearing +along a ribbon of white in the valley below. + + + + +CHAPTER 24. + +RIVAL FACTIONS. + +Everyone agreed it was a difficult morning on the Stock Exchange, +although for that matter a great many mornings during the past three +weeks had been the same. The bottom had fallen out of innumerable +cans. Persons with scarlet or greenish white faces were waving their +hands and calling on the Deity to explain the collapse of cast iron +securities. If there had been a threat of war things could hardly have +been worse. The worst of it was that none of the big sellers seemed +disposed to give their reasons for unloading. Mr. Hilbert Torrington, +when asked why he had sold huge quantities of oil shares, courteously +replied to all and various that he had no observations to make. The +oil market, particularly that controlled by Hugo Van Diest, had slumped +fifteen points in three days and the others had fallen sympathetically. +And now, as though the oil collapse were not enough, appeared Ezra P. +Hipps unloading Estuary Rails at a price that would hardly pay for +printing the scrip. Ten days earlier the Estuary had looked like a +cinch and Nugent Cassis, who had a reputation for sanity, had been +buying it by the yard. Here was stock at nineteen shillings being +offered at fivepence, and no rush to take it up even at that price. +Everyone knew that Hipps was the moving spirit in the Estuary. His +holdings were enormous. + +"In Heaven's name, man, what's the idea?" was shouted at him from every +side. + +"I'm getting out," was the only answer he condescended. + +Nugent Cassis was beginning to lose his nerve as emphasised by the fact +that he was continually winding his watch or pulling at his precise +grey beard. His usual air of calm ill-humour had deserted him and, as +Lord Almont laconically remarked, "Poor old Cassis is flapping in the +wind." + +"Can't understand their motive," he repeated over and over again. "If +they believe they've got Barraclough tucked safely away, what can they +gain by this stock juggling?" + +"They are laying a false scent presumably," said Mr. Torrington. + +"They must be aware that we know about the kidnapping." + +"I imagine so. At any rate Cranbourne intends to put them wise." + +"Then where's the object?" + +"Our friend Frencham Altar has disappointed 'em perhaps, so they turn +their attentions once more to our humble selves." + +"Makes me almost wish we'd left the whole thing alone. Seventy +thousand pounds in three weeks. Appalling! Appalling!" + +"But consider how we shall be requited when Barraclough turns up with +the concession." + +"_If_ he turns up." + +"We shall know at eleven o'clock tonight." + +"That's purely hypothetical." + +"My dear Cassis, the world is made up of hypotheses--dreams that +sometimes come true. What are you doing with your holdings in Estuary?" + +"I'm selling." + +The old man's eyes blazed. + +"On the contrary, my friend. This is a fight and we fight to a finish, +please. By your leave we do not take the count until tomorrow morning." + +"I'm not made of money," Cassis complained. + +"Very well then, if you are determined to sell--sell to me." + +"Are you crazy?" + +"Possibly. Come over here." + +Mr. Torrington took Cassis by the arm and led him to the excited group +surrounding Ezra P. Hipps. The American's head and shoulders appeared +above the crowd. He was offering Estuary Rails at fourpence three +farthings. Catching sight of Nugent Cassis he broke into a grin, shook +his head sadly and asked: + +"Coming to join the party?" + +"We are," replied Mr. Torrington, "in the form of purchasers. I'll buy +at four-three." + +The American frowned. + +"Say, you serious, Mr. Wise Man?" + +"Perfectly." + +"What'll you take?" + +"All you've got." + +The news went round like wild fire and half an hour later the price of +Estuaries was running up like quicksilver dipped in hot water. + +"What in hell do you make of that?" Hipps demanded of his chief. + +Hugo Van Diest shrugged his shoulders. + +"He wass a doughty adversary, dis Mr. Torrington," he replied. "Must +egshpect dis sort of ting." + +"Guess there's more behind it than that. What are they hoping on, +anyway?" + +"Donno--donno." + +But the sudden appearance of Sydney Cranbourne did something to +enlighten them. + +"Forgive my intrusion, gentlemen," he said, "but could you give me a +possible date on which we might expect the return of our mutual friend?" + +Neither Hipps nor Van Diest betrayed the smallest surprise. + +"Our mutual friend, Mister Cranbourne?" + +"I was referring to a gentleman whose initials are A. B." + +"A. B.! Wasn't that the guy who went out to look for a radium field +three weeks ago today?" + +"The same," said Cranbourne sweetly. "But we had reason to believe he +changed his plans and accepted another invitation." + +"You've been dreaming, dear," said Hipps. + +"Perhaps I have, Mr. Hipps. The matter is of no great importance but I +dreamt of the Old Bailey among other things and of three gentlemen, +prominent in financial circles, who were charged with unlawfully +detaining someone against his will and endeavouring to induce him to +confide certain information." + +"And then, I suppose," remarked Hipps, "you woke up and knocked over +your cup of early tea." + +"Why, no," replied Cranbourne. "I sat up in bed and worked out details +for the flotation of the Radium Company in which I have an interest." + +Hipps looked at Van Diest, shook his head and tapped his brow. + +"Sure it's the heat," he said. "There ain't going to be any flotation +that I've heard of." + +"Think not? It would be a pity if you gentlemen gave way to overmuch +expression of optimism. It hardly accords with your actions of the +last few days." + +Van Diest smiled expansively. + +"Ver' distressing dis uneven market." + +"I imagine you must have found it so." + +"Poor Mister Cassis--he was ver' green dis morning." + +"Our dear Cassis is a born actor. Well, gentlemen, I won't keep you +any longer except to offer my sympathy that you have found A. B. so +indifferent a confidant. Good day." + +And with a polite bow he turned and mingled with the crowd. + +"Can't quite get the strength of all that," observed Hipps as he and +Van Diest passed out of the main door, "but one thing sticks out a +mile. We can't hold our prisoner indefinitely. He must be made to +talk right away." + +"Dis evening we make the big effort." + +"And assumin' it fails?" + +"Dat would be a peety--such a peety." + +Hipps stood thinking for a moment. + +"I've half a mind to turn on the girl again. Let her vamp the secret +out of him. We don't progress, you know. Say, you don't think they've +a line on where we've got him hid?" + +Van Diest waved away the suggestion. + +"No, no, no. S'all right. S'arranged too well." + +"Then I'll trot up West and buy Auriole a lunch. What time tonight?" + +"At nine o'clock." + +"I'll be along." + +He jumped into a taxi, drove round and collected Auriole and carried +her off to the Carlton Hotel. She seemed tired and lacklustre, a +circumstance he noted with some small annoyance. + +"See here, kid," he said. "We've a big set piece scheduled for tonight +and you're a participant." + +"I am." + +"Sure. Our friend has proved a disappointment in the talking line." + +For a moment a flash of enthusiasm burned in her eyes. + +"The persecution has failed then?" + +"It's early to say so but we've a notion it 'ud do no harm to +accelerate a trifle." + +"You'd hardly dare torture him more than you've done already." + +"We thought of trying out one or two new effects but supposing they +fail then it's up to you to take a hand." + +"No," said Auriole, "no. You found me a failure before--let's leave it +at that. My part's ended." + +"Haven't you kind o' forgotten something?" + +"What?" + +"My offer to you was made providing we pull off this deal. Failing +that it's cancelled." + +Auriole's expression, seemed to go very flat indeed. There was a look +of disgust in her eyes. + +"What do you want?" + +"Maybe we shall call on you for the 'whisper and I shall hear' act. +It'd make a nice variety for Anthony after the shouting." + +"You want me to make love to him?" + +"Sure. And I'll try and govern my jealousy for a short stretch." + +She was silent for a longish while, then she nodded. + +"But only as a last resort," she insisted. + +"That's a bet. Me and Van'll be trundling along in the Rolls about +ninish--care to join us?" + +"No, I'll use the two seater." + +"Back your fancy. But see here--no back sliding, mind. A hell of a +lot hangs on his being made to talk--a hell of a lot," he repeated +seriously. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Never do for a fine chap like him to die young." + +"Die? You wouldn't dare." + +"It's certain sure we wouldn't dare turn him out in the world again +after what's happened." + +"Do you mean you'd----" + +"Think it over." + +And she thought it over while Ezra P. Hipps addressed himself to a +liberal helping of saddle of mutton smeared with great dollops of red +currant jelly that looked to her like blood. + + + + +CHAPTER 25. + +MR. BOLT DROPS IN. + +An undercurrent of suppressed excitement pulsed through Mrs. +Barraclough's household on the day of the seventeenth. You could feel +it throbbing like the beat of a distant drum. Voices sounded +different, eyes shone strangely, feet touched the ground as though it +lacked solidity. A sense of electricity was in the air, like the +unnatural calm that is herald to a storm. Mrs. Barraclough herself was +the one person outwardly unaffected by the general mood and set about +her daily duties as though nothing were happening. She never even +mentioned Anthony's name but instead freely discussed the imminent +confinement of Mrs. Brassbound, the wife of the village policeman. She +loved babies and it struck her as a happy omen that the little arrival +was expected on the very day that should mark her son's return from +excursions and alarums. + +Isabel rang her up during the morning--a trunk call--with the brave +intention of expressing firm and unshakable optimism but the effort was +pathetically tremulous and finally petered out with inarticulate sobs +and chokings. + +"Oh, dear, dear! That will never do," said Mrs. Barraclough, mastering +a powerful desire to kiss the microphone into which she spoke. "You +mustn't even imagine anything could go wrong. Now, what are you going +to do this afternoon?" + +Sniff! "I donno--nuffin'," came over the wire moistly. + +"Then I'll tell you. You'll go round to your dressmaker's and try on +your wedding dress and pretend you're walking down the aisle with your +hand on Tony's arm." + +"I c-couldn't--b-but it's a l-lovely idea." + +"Of course you could and you've got to. After all, it's what you'll be +doing in real earnest next Thursday." + +Mrs. Barraclough could almost swear to having seen the smile that dried +up those tears that fell a hundred and fifty miles away. + +"I'll t-try," said a tiny voice. "You are a d-darling." And later in +the afternoon the telephone bell rang again sad the same voice, with a +brave ring to it, announced "I've got it on." + +After that Mrs. Barraclough was perfectly sure everything would be all +right and walked down to the village to enquire about the prospective +mother. + +Shortly after she had gone Jane, who was entering the drawing room with +a silver tea tray, had a real adventure. On pushing open the door she +had an impression of two black coat tails disappearing through the +French windows into the garden. With perilous despatch she set down +the tray and rushed out to the gravel path, calling loudly to Flora. +Flora, arrayed in a greasy blue overall, came hurrying from the garage +where she had been spending the day tinkering with the car. + +"Yes, what is it?" she cried. + +Jane was pointing down a grove of Dorothy Perkins at the end of which a +stout figure in black was retreating. + +"That old clergyman!" + +"What about him?" + +"I'll swear he was in this room when I brought in the tea." + +"You sure?" + +"Positive. I saw him pass the house two or three times this morning +and yesterday too." + +"Half a mo," said Flora and hurried over to the writing table. "I say, +haven't these papers been moved?" + +"Yes, they have. My eye! it's exciting. What do you make of it?" + +"Something fishy." + +"Do you think--do you possibly think it's anything to do with Mr. +Anthony?" + +Jane's eyes sparkled like jewels at the very thought of anything so +adorable. + +"I bet it has," said Flora. "What else could it be?" + +"Might be just a rotten burglary." + +"Chuck it," said Flora. "Don't spoil a decent show." + +"I don't want to. But didn't she tell you Mr. Anthony had spoofed the +crowd that were against him?" + +"Um! But they were a downey lot and p'raps after all they didn't buy +the spoof." + +"Wouldn't it be terrific," exclaimed Jane, clasping her hands, +"wouldn't it be terrific if there was a dust up down here and we were +in it." + +"Shut up," Flora implored, "it's a jolly sight too good to be true. +Better light the spirit lamp, the old lady'll be in to tea directly." + +The words were scarcely spoken before a shadow was cast across the +floor and Mrs. Barraclough appeared at the window carrying a basket of +roses. + +"Conybeare," she said, addressing the old Devonian gardener who was +trimming the borders a few yards away. "Conybeare, I am going down to +Mrs. Brassbound later in the evening. I want you to cut me a nice +bunch of grapes and some vegetables--nice ones." + +The old fellow touched his cap and moved away. Mrs. Barraclough +entered smilingly. + +"And I shall want the car, Flora." + +"It's all ready. I'll bring it round, madam." + +"There's no hurry. Aren't these roses delicious?" She buried her face +in the orgy of pink, crimson and yellowy-white blooms. "Give me that +bowl, my dear." + +And while she took a few from the basket and arranged them in the big +silver bowl she continued pleasantly-- + +"I always wish I were a girl again when I pick roses. There's a +sentiment about them--and perhaps a danger--a nice sort of danger. You +know, it's very sad to reach an age at which danger no longer exists. +By the way, a very singular thing happened to me on my way to the +village. I was followed, Flora!" + +"Followed! But who'd dare?" said Jane. + +Mrs. Barraclough pouted pathetically. + +"Please don't say that," she begged. "It makes one feel so old. After +all, there is no law to prevent one being followed unless it is the law +of selection." + +"Who followed you?" asked Flora. + +"A man," replied Mrs. Barraclough with ceremony. "A very respectable +man. He revived a sense of youth in me by wearing elastic sided boots." + +"What was his face like?" + +"In the circumstances, Jane, I kept my eyes discreetly downcast, but I +had a fleeting impression of clerical broadcloth." + +"That man!" exclaimed Flora with sudden emphasis. + +"My dear, it is most unbecoming to speak disparagingly of a member of +the clergy. As a girl the word curate inspired in me feelings of +respect and sentiment." + +"There's not much to get sentimental over in that old beast," said +Jane. "He's been hanging around since yesterday evening and what's +more, I'll bet he's up to no good." + +Mrs. Barraclough had her own opinion of the mysterious parson who had +addressed her in the lane but she preferred to arrive at the opinions +of others by her own method. + +"I am sure it is very wrong to bet on clergymen as though they were +race horses," she replied. + +"But honestly," said Flora, "I believe he is a bad hat." + +"Well, well, well," Mrs. Barraclough acceded, "if he isn't he certainly +wore one--a black and white straw of a shape and pattern which I +believe you moderns call 'boaters.' There, the kettle is boiling. Run +along and leave me to myself." + +After the two girls had departed Mrs. Barraclough stroked the end of +her chin with a sensitive forefinger and murmured: + +"I wonder what that man is here for? It's queer--I wish I didn't +think--Oh, well!" + +She leaned forward and poured herself out a cup of tea. A discreet +cough caused her to start and rise quickly. + +In the centre of the room stood Mr. Alfred Bolt, looking for all the +world like the comic paper idea of a parson. A huge, black frock coat +hung in festoons over his globular form, his scarlet face was wreathed +in smiles. In his hand he carried a black and white straw hat and a +pair of black kid gloves. He placed the hat in the middle of his waist +line and bowed apologetically. + +"I beg your pardon--I do indeed beg your pardon." + +Mrs. Barraclough was equal to the occasion and presented a perfect +example of mid-Victorian austerity. + +"May I ask, sir, why you enter my house other than by the front door? +And also what persuaded you to address me in the lane this afternoon?" + +"My dear lady," protested Mr. Bolt with a world of unction. "I come +from a part of the country where formality is unknown and where a +minister--a minister of the gospel--enters into the hearts and the +homes of men and of women by the shortest possible route." + +"Fiddlesticks," said Mrs. Barraclough uncompromisingly. + +At which her visitor expressed himself as greatly shocked and turned +his eyes heavenward. + +"I remark with sorrow," he observed, "that you are not a true believer. +Your faith is not of the simple kind." + +He could hardly have chosen an unhappier argument. Mrs. Barraclough's +devotion was a byword in the parish. To be treated thus by a totally +unknown clergyman was not to be tolerated. Her doubt as to the probity +of this person fostered by Jane and Flora took definite shape. She +decided to interrogate and, if necessary, expose him without further +preamble. + +"It is customary for visitors to be announced," she said. "I would be +obliged if you would tell me your name." + +Mr. Bolt sighed and seated himself heavily on the sofa, his little +pig-like eyes roving round the room. + +"My name, madam, is the Reverend Prometheus Bolt." + +"And why have you called upon me?" + +Mr. Bolt faltered. He did not like this lady who pointed every +question. + +"An act of civility, my dear madam. I am staying a few days in this +enchanting vicinity and hearing of your benevolent character was +persuaded to pay my best respects." + +"My benevolent character! You are collecting for a charity? You are +proposing to hand me a tract?" + +"No, indeed no. My visit is connected with this world and not the +next. I was informed in the village that this house was to let." + +"You were misinformed." + +"Furnished--to let furnished. Yes." This was a happy thought and he +followed it up closely. "I should consider myself indeed fortunate if +you, dear lady, would conduct me round its various apartments." + +"The house is not to let under any consideration." + +"Dear, dear! How disappointing." + +"So if that is your only object in calling----" Her hand went out +toward the bell. + +"I pray you will allow me to remain a moment and recover my breath. +The heat of the walk, you know. I am not as young as I was." + +"No one is," replied Mrs. Barraclough uncompromisingly. + +"How very, very true," said Mr. Bolt with outward benevolence but +inwardly with a powerful inclination toward violence. "Yes, very true, +although it is bitter indeed to be taunted with lack of youth. In the +words of the Gospel 'do unto others as you would be done by.'" + +"In what particular part of the Gospel does that phrase occur?" +demanded Mrs. Barraclough shrewdly. + +But Alfred Bolt was not a man to be caught out in the first over. + +"I can only recommend you a closer attention to the Book," he replied. +"Search its pages yourself, dear lady, and treasures of gladness shall +be yours." + +It was a nimble evasion and he could not resist a smile of +self-satisfaction, but to avoid further interrogation on Biblical +derivations he hastened to lead the conversation into safer alleys and +ones more relative to the object of his visit. + +"I am informed in the village that you are the fortunate possessor of a +son." + +"I have a son," Mrs. Barraclough admitted. + +"A priceless gift, dear lady. I should like to shake him by the hand." + +"Why?" + +Really this woman was too trying and the directness of the question for +an instant deprived Mr. Bolt of his sense of character. Before he had +time to collect his thoughts he had rapped out the reply: + +"Needn't jump down a man's throat like that." + +His effort to recover and mask this piece of startled irritability with +a vague platitude did not deceive his audience in the smallest degree. +Doubt became conviction in Mrs. Barraclough's mind. She did not know +in what way this man was connected with her son's affairs but none the +less she was certain he represented a positive barrier between Anthony +and success. To denounce him as a spy might, however, do more harm +than good, accordingly she took up the bell and rang it, with the words: + +"My son is away and has been away for several weeks, nor is there any +likelihood you will meet him when ultimately he returns." Then to the +glowering Jane who had answered the summons of the bell; "Kindly show +this gentleman out." + +"Pray do not disturb yourself," said Mr. Bolt with dignity. "I can +find my own way." + +And with astonishing speed for a man of his build he seized the handle +and threw open the door of Mrs. Barraclough's bedroom. The action was +deliberate since he desired to find out who might possibly be concealed +in the inner room and its advantages were immeasurable for at the very +moment his back was turned Anthony Barraclough, dusty and spent, +stumbled in through the French window. + +Jane gave a short, stifled squeak and pointed and he was out again and +ducking behind a rose bush before Bolt had time to turn and apologise +for his mistake. + +"Show this gentleman through the gate and down the road," said Mrs. +Barraclough in a voice that did not betray her excitement by a single +tremor. + +"I thank you for your hospitality, dear lady," said the Reverend +Prometheus, "and I trust I may have the pleasure of bettering our +acquaintance." + +As he bowed himself out he discreetly dropped his gloves behind a +cushion on the sofa. + +"This way, please," said Jane. "This way." + + + + +CHAPTER 26. + +AMONG ALLIES. + +The door had scarcely closed upon the retreating masquerader when once +again Barraclough slipped into the room. His clothes were white with +dust, his eyes hollow and deep set, but around the corners of his mouth +was just such a smile as any mother might hope to see. + +"Bless your sweet bobbed head," he whispered, throwing an arm +affectionately about her shoulders. "Though why in blazes you +entertain well known crooks to tea gets me wondering." + +"Oh, my dear, dear boy, wherever did you come from?" she cried, patting +him all over to convince herself of his reality. + +"Down the chimney, mother, like Santa Claus." + +"But why and without a word?" + +"Hadn't a notion I was coming," he replied dropping on to the sofa and +spreading out his legs. "I was whacked to the wide and had to stop +somewhere and get me breath." + +The door was flung open and Flora and Jane burst in. + +"I say, that was a near shave," gasped the latter. "Where did you +spring from?" + +"Somewhere t'other side of Plymouth. Keep your eye on the window, +Flora. Don't want that old blackbird to get a view of me. Thanks! +Fine. See him down the road, Jane?" + +"You bet." + +"It's damn bad luck him being here at all. When did he first show up?" + +"Last night." + +"There's been a mess-up somewhere and I was looking for a clean run +home." + +"Home, dear?" + +"Um! Back to London. How's mother's old car going, Flora?" + +"Tiptop." + +"Good, I shall need it. I say, I apologise for not saying how-de-do +but things have been moving today. Everyone feeling good? Fine. +Lord, I'm tired." And he passed a hand tied with a bloodstained +handkerchief across his brow. + +Mrs. Barraclough was first to notice it and called for an explanation. + +"Oh, that's all right--a scratch--bled a bit. Nothing to bother about. +Flora, if you leave that window unguarded you're sacked. Jane, if you +love me, a large and a small." + +"But what is it all about?" Mrs. Barraclough implored after shaking her +head at the thought of whiskey. + +"Money, dear--money and a bit of paper I carry in this note case that +is earnestly coveted by quite a number of people it doesn't belong to. +When I asked for a large and a small, Jane, I was endeavouring to +convey the idea that I was thirsty." + +But Jane was reluctant to go and only consented to do so on a promise +that no secrets should be revealed in her absence. + +"Be a darling, mother dear, and fill me a pipe." + +It was characteristic of Anthony Barraclough that the entire household +revolved round him from the instant of appearance. + +"Then there is something wrong with your hand," said the old lady +filling the pipe and putting it in the corner of his mouth, while Flora +risked a month's notice by rushing forward with a lighted match. "I +shall tie it up while you have your smoke." + +Anthony's protests were unavailing when the ministering angel mood +descended upon his mother. At such a time she was inexorable. She +called upon Flora to fill the slop basin with warm water and provide +scissors (always so elusive when needed) and naturally Flora, who was +entirely absorbed in the adventurous side of the proceedings, could +only find the rose cutters which were entirely useless. + +"It's a bullet wound," Mrs. Barraclough declared. "You can't deceive +me--it's a bullet wound." + +"Well, p'raps it is, mother, but since it was never intended for my +hand we needn't bother about it." + +"You must have it bandaged and go to bed straight away." + +"Bed!" He threw back his head and laughed. "It's likely." + +"And you'll want a sling." + +"Not for this David, mother. A sling would be a fat lot of use against +the Goliaths I'm dealing with. Mother, I'm within a hundred and fifty +miles of being one of the richest men in the world and, as far as I can +see, they'll be the toughest miles I've ever covered in my life." + +And suddenly from the window came Flora's cry of "Look out!" + +Anthony did not waste time looking out but instead flung himself behind +the upright piano which stood out from the wall. Nor was he a moment +too soon for the massive form of Mr. Bolt was framed in the French +windows. Mrs. Barraclough took three steps toward him as also did +Flora, thus preventing a definite intrusion into the room. + +"I beg your pardon--I do indeed beg your pardon," said Bolt in tones as +rich as the fat of pork, "but I fancy--I rather imagine--I--yes, to be +sure, left a pair of gloves on your sofa." + +"If you had rung the bell, sir, your property would have been restored +to you in the usual manner. I cannot----" + +She stopped as her uninvited guest was sniffing the air suspiciously. + +"Mrs. Barraclough," he observed, shaking his head sadly, "I fear I have +caught you smoking." + +Behind the piano Anthony was feverishly extinguishing his pipe with the +ball of his thumb. + +"I smoke all day," replied Mrs. Barraclough. + +The door opened and Jane came in with an abnormally large whiskey and +soda which she nearly dropped at the sight of the visitor. + +"Oh! Mrs. Barraclough!" said Bolt, pointing an accusing finger. + +But the old lady was equal to the moment. + +"And drink," she said, seizing the glass and swallowing an immense gulp +that almost paralysed the muscles of her throat. + +Mr. Bolt smiled cynically and took his gloves from Flora's outstretched +hand. + +"Gloves are so expensive nowadays, are they not?" he asked. + +"To be frank, Mr. Bolt, I do not wish to discuss with you either gloves +or Christianity," said Mrs. Barraclough. "I would be glad if you would +kindly leave by the way you came." + +"I was about to do so, madam, after first thanking you for your +hospitality." + +Maybe it was appreciation of his mother's inflexible bearing that +caused Anthony to relax, but whatever the reason the result was +disastrous. There was a small table alongside of where he stood hidden +upon which was a vase of sweet peas. Anthony's elbow struck and +overset it. There was a splash of water and a tinkle of glass. + +The three women held their breath and Mr. Bolt's eyebrows went up and +down twice very quickly. Then he smiled. + +"Once again allow me to thank you for your hospitality," he said. + +"Show this person out," said Mrs. Barraclough. + +And under the escort of Jane and Flora he was peremptorily bustled off +the premises. + +"H'm," said Anthony, coming out from behind the piano. "That was a +pity." + +Mrs. Barraclough was almost in tears. + +"Do you think he realised you were hidden there?" + +"Vases don't tumble over by themselves, mother dear, and our friend is +not a fool." He tapped his teeth with a thumb nail reflectively. +"Yes--yes--yes. We must curtail his activities. Can't have the old +viper sending messages. Settle down at the telephone, best of mothers." + +"I do wish you would not address me as though I were a sitting hen," +said Mrs. Barraclough, drawing up a chair to the writing table. + +"The telephone, mother, and ask for the police station." + +"But the policeman is sure to be out." + +"Then talk to his missus." + +"That would be impossible, dear, Mrs. Brassbound----" + +But Anthony did not listen to the objection. + +"Tell old Brassbound," said he, "to run in friend Skypilot if he +gravitates near the post office." + +Mrs. Barraclough picked up the receiver and asked for the police +station and while waiting to be connected remarked weakly: + +"There is no law to prevent people sending telegrams, dear." + +"Then we must make a few to fit the occasion." + +"Is that you, Mr. Brassbound?" said the old lady in answer to a voice +on the wire. "It's Mrs. Barraclough speaking. I wonder if you would +very kindly arrest a clergyman for me." + +"Put a bit more sting in it, mother--ginger." + +"Ginger," repeated Mrs. Barraclough into the mouthpiece. "No, no, I +didn't mean that. He's grey and elderly." + +"Say he pinched something," Anthony prompted. + +Mrs. Barraclough nodded. + +"I rather fear he has appropriated a cream jug. Yes. I thought +perhaps he might send it off from the post office. Thank you. And how +is your wife progressing? Yes, of course she is. Yes, I am coming +down to see her this evening if I can get away. Goodbye." + +"What's wrong with the policeman's missus?" demanded Anthony. + +"As you're not a married man, Tony, I shall refuse to tell you," said +Mrs. Barraclough in the manner of Queen Victoria. + +"Going to see her?" + +"I was going to take her this basket of roses and some vegetables, but +as----" + +"No, no, you take 'em and I'll go down to the village with you in the +car and take it on. You won't mind walking home across the fields." + +"Anthony," said Mrs. Barraclough seriously. "Is it very real danger +you're in?" + +"Pretty solid but don't you fret, I'm equal to it." + +Flora and Jane came in from the garden. + +"We've seen him down the road," they announced. + +"Good. Now, look here, everyone, I've wasted a deuce of a lot of time +when I ought to have been on the way. Here's the position of affairs. +Flora, you're going to drive me to London." + +"Right," said Flora with sparkling eyes. + +"Jane! Still got that old service revolver I gave you?" + +"Um." + +"Keep it handy. Likely enough there'll be a couple of visitors here +before long and you've got to detain 'em somehow." + +"I'll keep 'em till they grow roots," said Jane stoutly. + +"It's a damn shame, dragging you into all this, but that bullet did me +in as a driver. It's no joke shoving a motor bike along with a bullet +through your hand." + +"But how did you get the wound, dear?" + +As hurriedly as possible he outlined the day's happenings from the +moment of landing at Polperro. + +"Who are these men?" Flora demanded. + +"Couple of spies belonging to a crowd that tried to prevent me leaving +London three weeks ago." + +"But what do they want?" + +Anthony held up the morocco letter case and restored it to his pocket. + +"Just this. I've given 'em a pretty good lead all day--played hare and +hounds all over Dartmoor best part of the morning but somehow I don't +believe I've shaken 'em off." + +"Where did you leave the bike?" + +"Couple of miles back on the main road. Shoved her in a thicket. +Front tyre burst and that settled it. There's a bare hope they may +have been kidded into believing I'd gone straight on but it's slender +enough. Comberstone knows I have a home hereabouts and they're pretty +certain to have watched my tracks on the road. Mother's old bus is +going well you say?" + +"I can whack her up to about a thirty average," said Flora. + +"Thirty, and we've a hundred and fifty to go. Yes, yes--ought to be in +Town by eleven." + +"Easy." + +"Then I'll just swallow a snack of grub and push off straight away. +Get your engine started." + +"There's a lovely pie in the larder, dear," said Mrs. Barraclough. +"Just the sort you like best. Jane! My motor cloak and bonnet." + +She took Anthony's hand and they hurried kitchenward together. + +Flora and Jane looked at one another, their eyes adance with excitement. + +"Oh, isn't this gorgeous," said Jane. + +"Simply topping," echoed Flora. + +"You lucky beast to be going up with him." + +"I like that, when you've got a shooting programme." + +"Oh, well, I suppose the honours are divided. Good luck." + +"Same to you." + +They parted with a wave of the hand, Jane following her mistress and +Flora into the garden at a run. But she had scarcely reached the path +when two men came round the corner of the house and bore down upon her. + +Harrison Smith was too good a strategist to announce his arrival by +driving up to the front door. He had left the Ford at the end of the +lane and entered the grounds by way of the kitchen garden. At the +sight of Flora he bowed very politely, greeting her with a charming +smile and an allusion to the clemency of the evening. It is possible +these social amenities might have carried some weight but for the +appearance of Freddie Dirk, whose heavy jowl, grimed with dust and +perspiration, was not consistent with the idea of an afternoon caller. +Flora fell back a pace into the room, wondering fearfully what course +she should pursue. + +"Don't be frightened, my girl, don't be frightened," Harrison Smith +agreeably beseeched. + +"Who are you? I don't know you," said Flora. + +"We're friends of your master's, of course." + +"That's it," said Dirk, huskily. "Pals of 'is, see!" + +The tone was hardly convincing. + +"My master is away, and has been away for some weeks." + +"Yes, yes, yes, to be sure. But he's come back." + +"No," said Flora. + +"Look 'ere, girl,"--Dirk's fat, short-fingered paw fell on her +shoulders--"we ain't soft--do you get me? We knows what we're torkin' +abaht. Mister Barraclough is 'ere and the sooner----" + +"Tut, tut, tut," Harrison Smith interrupted. "Don't talk like that, +Dirk--you're scaring the girl. Now listen to me. Your Master has +enemies, we're his friends. It is of the utmost importance we should +see him at once." He moved away and opened the door of Mrs. +Barraclough's bedroom. "As a matter of fact his life depends upon it." + +"Yus--'is life," Dirk echoed. + +"I tell you my master is not here." + +"Isn't 'e--isn't 'e." Dirk's two hands fastened on Flora's wrist and +twisted the flesh in contrary directions, a domestic form of torture +known to the initiated as the Burning Bracelet. + +"Let go, you brute--let go," she cried, and with her free hand caught +him a full swinging slap across the face. + +What particular line Dirk's resentment would have taken is unknown, for +Harrison Smith came quickly between them with a muttered order and at +the same time the door opened and Jane ran in. It speaks well for her +courage that she did not cry out or betray alarm. + +"Jane," gasped Flora very quickly, "these men want to see master--I've +told them he isn't here----" + +"Quiet you," said Dirk threateningly, while Harrison Smith descended on +the new arrival under a coverlet of smiles. + +"Come along, my dear," he said, "you're a sensible looking girl. Now +where's Mister Barraclough, eh?" + +For a second Jane seemed lost in consideration, then shook her head +stupidly and replied in a rich brogue: + +"Maister Bar'clough--doan't know 'un--never clapt eyes on 'un. 'Tis +on'y larst week I took sarvice 'ere t'oblige." + +"Have you seen anyone strange about the premises today?" + +"Noa." + +"A man--tall--broad shouldered--wearing a blue suit and cap." + +"Oh 'im," said Jane, her face lighting up with a semblance of +intelligence. "I did see some un 'bout 'arf an hour ago, 'twas." + +"Yes, yes. Go on." + +"Come out of tool shed at garden end and kept low by the 'edge." + +"Did he enter the house?" + +"Noa. 'E lit off down the road as fast as 'e cud make." + +"Damn! We've missed 'im," roared Dirk. + +"Which direction?" + +"Away from village 'twas." + +Dirk was tugging at Harrison Smith's sleeve and dragging him toward the +French windows. + +"No, no," cried Smith, "the front way--it's quicker." + +The two turned at the exact second Barraclough, entirely oblivious of +their presence, walked into the room. The light flashed dully on the +barrel of Harrison Smith's automatic. + +"Put 'em up," he said, "put 'em up"--and as the order was obeyed--"Well +met indeed, Barraclough, well met indeed." + + + + +CHAPTER 27. + +A KNOTTED KERCHIEF. + +The timing and arrangement of the situation was flawless. Barraclough +with his hands upheld, Harrison Smith masking the persuasive automatic +from the view of the two girls and Dirk's fingers travelling caressingly +toward the pocket in which his mascot reposed. It was hugely dramatic. +Flora and Jane, robbed for the moment of the power of speech and action, +clung to one another on the far side of the room, their gaze riveted on +their hero, who, in this moment of crisis, was whistling a bar of ragtime +and accepting defeat with smiling eyes. + +Harrison Smith's left hand ran professionally over the contours of +Barraclough's coat to satisfy himself that there was no concealed weapon. + +"Most opportune," he remarked, "and we had almost despaired of seeing +you." Then in a lower voice--"All right, but no games." + +"Thank you," said Barraclough, and lowering his arms he walked slowly to +the writing table. + +"And now you two nice little girls," said Harrison Smith, rubbing his +hands together, "cut along and pick flowers. Much too nice an evening to +be spending your time indoors. Off you go." + +There was certainly a better chance of getting help if they could escape. +Nothing was to be gained by staying. As they passed the table by which +Barraclough was standing he whipped an envelope from his pocket and +thrust it in Flora's hand with the words: + +"Post that for me--quick." + +Flora seized the envelope and made a dash for the window but hardly +covered half the distance before Dirk and Smith closed in upon her, +fighting for possession of the paper. It was given to Jane to translate +the actual meaning of this extraordinary performance and she alone saw +Barraclough take the note case swiftly from his pocket and bury it under +the foliage in the basket of roses. The others were too busily engaged +to attend to such a trifle. + +"Let them have it, Flora," said Barraclough, sweetly. "They are friends +of mine. Do as I tell you." + +"You girls get out," gasped Harrison Smith, coming down breathlessly with +the envelope, and after Flora and Jane had escaped into the garden, +"Cornered, Mr. Barraclough, and we've got the goods." + +Anthony was smiling. + +"Hadn't you better make sure?" said he. + +The envelope was ripped open and a letter withdrawn. + +"What's this?" + +"I don't know--something my mother wrote. Oh, I wasn't born yesterday +and if you think I carry the concession--search me." And to emphasise +the uselessness of such a course he pulled out the lining of his inner +pocket. + +Dirk and Smith closed in threateningly. + +"We mean to have that paper," they said in a single voice. + +"Haven't you chosen rather a public place to get it?" he answered +steadily. "Oh, I realise I'm cornered, but is this the place for the +kill? After all, I'm not much good to you without that paper." + +"Where 'ave you put it?" hissed Dirk, edging closer. "Where 'ave you put +it, eh?" + +"Aha, my friend, that's the point. But it won't be cleared up by +breathing hops in my face." + +The barrel of Harrison Smith's pistol pressed unpleasantly into his short +ribs and Dirk's mascot "whump-whumphed" in the air above his head. + +"A little persuasion." + +"No, not even with a little persuasion." His voice rang high on a note +of challenge. "If you want that paper, you'll have to accept my terms +and my terms are stiff." + +"I can tell you 'oo'll be stiff ternight if he don't----" + +The sentence was never finished, for from the hall outside came the sound +of Mrs. Barraclough's voice: + +"I may be a little late for dinner, Cook, so don't put on the potatoes +till the half hour." + +"My mother," said Anthony, warningly. + +With a curse and a growl Smith and Dirk backed away, pocketing their +weapons, as Mrs. Barraclough in a long motor cloak and veil came into the +room. + +For a second she stood in the doorway, her eyes travelling from her son +to the two men and back again. From the astonishment on her features +Anthony read plainly enough that Flora and Jane had failed to find and +advise her of the danger. + +At this perilous stage a false move might mean the loss of everything. +The one hope was to preserve a seeming of normality and at the same time +convey a message as to the real significance of the situation. And like +a flash came into his head a memory of boyhood scrapes and a mother who +had never failed him in the hour of need. He whipped out his white +handkerchief and with a single hand, an old conjuring trick, threw a knot +in the centre and dangled it before Mrs. Barraclough's eyes. No message +by wire or wireless ever reached its destination in quicker time than +that old S. O. S. of school boy fame. He saw her tap out the "received" +signal with a forefinger on the front of her cloak, then turned with a +wave of the handkerchief to introduce the visitors. + +"Mother dear, these are two friends of mine, Sergeant Hammersmith and Mr. +Cappell." They were the first names to come into his head. He +added--"This is my mother, gentlemen, and I am sure you will be grieved +to hear she has lately suffered from very indifferent health." + +To give herself a moment for reflection, Mrs. Barraclough removed her +veiled motor bonnet and put it on the couch. Then she turned and +descended upon Dirk with outstretched hands and a high pitched falsetto +that fairly rang with welcome. + +"Oh, my dear Sergeant Hammer, this is indeed a pleasure. How very kind +of you to drop in. So few people drop in now-a-days; dropping in seems +to have quite dropped out and I do so dearly love seeing anyone from +Town. Of course we are so old world and out of the way down here that we +never see anyone--no one at all--nobody and to hear news direct from----" +She broke off abruptly, fixed her glasses and fell back in an attitude of +amazed rapture--"Anthony, dear, do look. Isn't Sergeant Picklesnip +exactly like the vicar--the old one, not the present incumbent, he's too +high for me. I do hope----" She descended upon Harrison Smith and wrung +him warmly by both hands--"I do hope you agree with me that the Roman +influence is most dangerous." And before he had time to reply--"Ah, but +I wish you had known Anthony when he was a little boy and wore sailor +suits--white on Sundays with a cord and a whistle round his neck. My +poor husband could not endure the whistle, so he took the pea out of it +and then it only made an airy noise instead of a blast." + +"Mother dear," Anthony interposed, "aren't you going down to the village?" + +A suggestion to which Harrison Smith proved a ready seconder. + +"Don't let us detain you, Madam," he beseeched. + +"No, I won't, I won't. Besides, I mustn't be late. As Mr. Gladstone +said in '84--and oh, what a hot summer that was--he said--'Detention is +the mother of time.'" + +At which Freddie Dirk, who knew something of both detention and time, +shivered uncomfortably and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. + +"Never be late," continued Mrs. Barraclough, rallying her resources for a +new oration, "although I was late once for a flower show at +Weston-super-Mare--or was it a funeral, Anthony? At any rate, there were +a lot of flowers there, so it may have been a wedding or a garden party. +But really, I mustn't stay a moment longer. I've got to see a Mrs. +Brassbound--poor dear, she's--Anthony, go away, you mustn't listen--I'm +going to treat you as friends--there's going to be a baby--she's the wife +of our village constable, you know--such a nice man--but as I've always +said, Policemen will be Policemen." + +"Yes, yes, yes," said Harrison Smith, whose patience was running out, +"very interesting. I have a friend staying at the hotel. I wonder if I +might use your telephone." + +Mrs. Barraclough caught the warning in Anthony's eyes as she gave her +consent. Also she caught a glint of light from the rose cutters that lay +on the sofa. + +What more natural than for a hostess to be seated while her guest made +his call and what more fortunate than the fact that the telephone wire +passed over the arm of the sofa on its way to the insulator in the floor. +The snip of the scissors as she cut the wire was quite inaudible because +of the good lady's flow of remarks on the subject of telephony. + +"They may keep you waiting," she said and kept on chattering until +Harrison Smith hung up the receiver in despair of being connected with +his ally Bolt. + +"And now, Madam, I feel sure we have kept you much too long," he said. + +"You'd better be off, Mother," said Anthony, who although vaguely aware +that she was endeavouring to create an atmosphere of vacuity, could not +fathom the advantage to be gained. + +"I'm going, dear, I'm going. I was thinking, that's all." + +"Thinking," came from Dirk. + +"Wondering if you two gentlemen could eat mutton. My dear brother who +died in '93 had very strong views about mutton, especially when it was +cold. He said----" + +But the prospect of hearing what he said so shook the good manners of her +visitors that they almost breasted her toward the bedroom door. They +would probably have succeeded in their object had not Flora hurried in +from the garden. + +"The doctor is with her now," said Flora. "I've got the car ready." + +Mrs. Barraclough became almost hysterical. There was no limit to the +instructions she showered upon the hapless Flora. Were the vegetables in +the car? Had she been sent for? Was Mr. Brassbound there, and finally, +had Flora put the "you know" into the basket? + +"The 'you know,'" said Flora, hazily. + +"Silly, silly girl," wailed Mrs. Barraclough. "Sergeant Ealing, do +excuse me whispering to my maid, but it is so difficult to speak out in +public." + +She dropped her voice to a confidential whisper only for the briefest +space and Flora nodded gravely and said: + +"Yes, Madam, I quite understand," and went out. + +"And now I really must be going," said Mrs. Barraclough at her bedroom +door. But she descended again upon her visitors, now purple with +exasperation, and possessed herself of their hands. + +"I have enjoyed your conversation so much, Mr. Ravenscourt, and yours, +too, Sergeant Chiswick, but even the best of friends must part; as +Anthony used to say when I bought him his first comb. Goodbye--goodbye." +She paused dramatically. "Oh, I nearly forgot my salts--my salts. It's +most important. The doctor said that I should never go anywhere without +my salts." + +It was only by exercise of something approaching violence that the +garrulous old lady was finally induced to enter her bedroom and the door +closed upon her. + +"If ever anyone ought to be certified," declared Harrison Smith blindly. + +"I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen," said Anthony. "I don't +imagine she will be long now." + +"For everyone's sake I 'ope she ain't," Dirk contributed. + +But as though to discount this pious ambition came a call from behind the +closed door. + +"Anthony, dear, Anthony! Will you ring the bell for Jane, please?" + +"The bell is at your elbow," said Anthony. "It is for you to decide, +sir, whether it should be rung." + +Harrison Smith tugged at the bell pull viciously. + +"And, Anthony, dear, will you bring me my motoring bonnet?" + +Anthony pointed at the motoring bonnet lying on the table next to the +rose basket, wherein, hidden by the stalks and leaves, was the morocco +letter case. + +"Take the damn thing in yourself," said Harrison Smith. + +It was Dirk who moved forward suspiciously as Barraclough picked up the +bonnet and moved toward the bedroom. Harrison Smith waved him back. + +"There's no other door. Keep a watch on the window," he ordered. + +Anthony entered unmolested and at precisely that moment Bolt came in from +the garden. + +The united forces did not waste time in greetings. + +"We've got him," said Harrison Smith. "He's in there with his mother." + +This was evident enough, for the sound of their voices was audible, Mrs. +Barraclough's high pitched tones crying out: + +"Don't sit on the bed, dear, it creases the quilt." + +"Better look out," Bolt warned. "He's as slippery as an eel." + +"Trust me, we're just waiting to get rid of the old woman, and then----" + +The other door opened and Jane scampered in, crying: + +"Did 'ee ring, marm, did 'ee ring?" + +"Put that basket of roses in the car, Jane," Mrs. Barraclough replied, +and as Jane turned to obey, from the garden in rushed Flora and +Conybeare, calling on their mistress to hasten. + +"Mrs. Brassbound, Mrs. Brassbound," cried Flora. "There's not a moment +to lose." + +"Terrible bad she is, and cryin' out for 'ee, m'am." + +In the midst of this confusion appeared a veiled and cloaked figure, +apparently belonging to Mrs. Barraclough, who nervously flapped hands and +hastened, surrounded by a babbling mob of servitors, toward the nearest +window. + +It did not occur to Barraclough's enemies to offer any resistance to this +general exodus, their attention was absorbed by the bedroom door, which +had shut with a snap and the click of a key. They waited just long +enough for the party of cackling females to get out of the room and down +the path, then rushed at the door with foot and shoulder. It stood up +longer than might have been expected, but Bolt's weight was more than +ordinary woodwork could withstand. The lock burst--the headings split +and it fell inward with a crash. + +Standing by the window, waving a knotted handkerchief to a disappearing +car was Mrs. Barraclough. She scarcely wasted a glance upon the +intruders. + +"Damnation--done!" roared Harrison Smith, as the truth dawned upon him. + +In a solid block they swung round to find themselves staring down the +black barrel of a service revolver held dead rigid in the hands of Jane. + +"Hands above your heads, please," she insisted. + +"And if you'll first wait till dear Anthony turns the bend of the lane," +cooed Mrs. Barraclough, "I'll go through their pockets and take away any +nasty things I may find there. You put the roses in the car, Jane?" + +"He's got it all right," came the answer. + +"Dear roses," said Mrs. Barraclough, sentimentally. + + + + +CHAPTER 28. + +SAND. + +A panel is not beaten into shape by force but by recurrent blows, light +and accurate, and by the same cumulative process, Van Diest and his +colleagues sought to shape the will of Richard Frencham Altar to their +intention. + +The fact that their effort had so far failed in no way discouraged the +belief that eventually it would succeed. There was no doubt in their +minds but that in time he would be brought to speak, but Cranbourne's +unexpected disclosure that the opposition knew of their captive's +whereabouts robbed them of their most valuable asset. Time, so to +speak, was no longer to be relied upon and they were compelled to +resort to a more expeditious method. + +True it would be easy to remove the captive elsewhere but easy matters +are apt to go wrong on performance. A clue might be provided where at +present no clue existed. If Torrington brought a charge it would be +based on hypothetical evidence and come to nothing. On the other hand +unpleasant suspicions would certainly be aroused and neither Van Diest +nor Hipps greatly desired to attract the attentions of the Police. + +If Barraclough could be persuaded to disclose the secret all would be +well. He would be generously rewarded not only for his confidence but +also for a guarantee to disclose none of the privations to which he had +been subjected. The affair would end in an atmosphere of sweet accord. +Torrington's crowd would be knocked out of business and a spirit of +peace and harmony would descend like a benison upon the hard working +trio. + +Could any solution be more satisfactory, but there was a fly in the +ointment. Barraclough's resolution strengthened with adversity, he +kept his tongue behind locked teeth and said precisely nothing. + +At nine o'clock that night the Dutchman's big Rolls Royce delivered him +and Ezra Hipps at Laurence's abode and Laurence himself came out to +meet them. + +"Well?" said Hipps. + +But Laurence shook his head. + +"Nothing doing at present." + +"Has he had any food?" + +"Not today. He's weak enough in all conscience." + +"Sleep?" + +"Damn little. He dropped off two or three times and I got the chaps to +spray him with cold water. That kept him lively. Blayney and Parker +are sleeping in the room now and taking shifts to watch him at night. +Awfully sorry, you two, but I've done my best." + +"I'll get right up," said Ezra P. Hipps. "Say, Auriole'll be along +presently. Tell her to stand by. She may come in useful." + +He marched heavily up the stairs and entered Richard's room. + +Blayney was on duty sprawling watchful on a camp bed, his elbows +propped on a kit bag. + +"Get out, you," said Hipps, and the man obeyed. Then he turned to +Richard. + +The last few days had wrought a desperate change in his looks. Caverns +had sunk in his cheeks and his eyes were ringed with black. That he +stood in earnest need of a shave heightened the pallor of brow and +temples. + +He was seated, cramped rather, in an upright chair with chin down. His +left hand beat a tattoo on the table top and he sucked the thumb of his +right hand like a badly trained child at a make-belief meal. + +"Taste good?" asked Hipps. "If I'd known you'd a fancy that way I'd +have brought along a soother." + +Richard removed his thumb and said, "Go to Hell!" very distinctly. + +Hipps walked a few paces toward him and remarked: + +"Still pretty fresh, I see." + +"Leaking badly, but still afloat," came the reply. + +"Durn me! but you're a sound citizen, Bud. I respect sand but I +despise a fool." + +"All right you do," mumbled Richard sleepily. + +"Pretty tired?" + +"Not sufficiently wide awake to listen to your talk, damn you!" + +The American smiled nastily. + +"Maybe not, but this is a case of having to. Say! ever been in one of +those big machine shops and seen a giant flywheel swizzling round at +three hundred revs. a minute? Guess you wouldn't be gink enough to put +out a hand and try to stop it. Never saw any machine yet that develops +more power than I can." + +Richard shrugged a shoulder; it was too great an effort to shrug both +of them. + +"And I guess you ain't going to stop the fly-wheel of my destiny." + +"You've had a sample," he replied with a touch of spirit. + +Hipps came a step closer and hooked his foot round a leg of Richard's +chair. + +"Know anything about the third degree?" he demanded. + +"What you've shown me." + +Richard's voice sounded far away and disinterested. + +"Show you some more. Stand up! Stand up! I can't bear a drowsy man." +And he kicked the chair half across the room. "Don't hang on to that +table--stand on your legs," and grasping Richard by his shirt front he +forced him into an upright position and held him there. His voice +hardened and rasped like a cross cut file as question after question +boomed out with the relentless quality of minute guns. + +"A year ago you went travelling." + +"You say so." The replies were barely audible. + +"During that time you tumbled on your find." + +"If I did, I did." + +"When was it you struck?" + +"That's my affair." + +"I've made it mine. When was it you struck?" + +"During the six months," said Richard with a twinkle of dying humour. + +"That answer won't do." + +"Only one you'll get." + +"I'm pretty close behind you, Anthony Barraclough." + +Again the twinkle came and went as Richard gave answer. + +"Still behind?" + +"Anthony Barraclough, I've a complete list of the places you visited." + +"Been buying a pocket atlas?" + +"The actual places." + +"Fine!" + +"And I could hazard a guess where the locality is. Like me to try?" + +"If it amuses you any." + +The American's voice rose and filled the room, reverberant as thunder. + +"P'r'aps it isn't so far away after all." + +And out of the wreckage of his resources, Richard Frencham Altar +brought up his big guns for a final effort at counter battery. + +"P'r'aps it isn't, p'r'aps it is," he cried. "Why, you blasted fool, +you'll get nothing from me--nothing. If you know so damn much go and +find the place yourself." + +Ezra Hipps seized him by the shoulders and flung him back against the +wall. + +"We mean to find out." + +"Not from me--not from me," Richard repeated, but the power which had +upheld him was dwindling fast. He knew, knew beyond question that in a +few more moments the truth would be shaken out of him unless he could +devise some means of slackening the strain. And then he had an +inspiration. + +"You fool! You fool!" he cried. "Can't you see what you've done, you +and your idiot crew? As you've driven health from my body so, by your +blasted privations, you've driven memory from my head." + +He tottered drunkenly toward a chair and sat down all of a heap. + +"What's that?" demanded Hipps, with real alarm. + +"I can't remember," Richard laughed hysterically. "I can't remember +what you want to know," and his head fell forward into his hands. + +For nearly a minute, Hipps looked at him in silence and his face was +very white indeed. Then with the breath escaping between his teeth he +turned away. + +It was sheer lunacy on the part of Richard to peep through his fingers +to judge the effect of his words. For it is an established truth that +the nerves of a man's back are sensitive to another's gaze. + +Ezra Hipps swung round so quickly that Richard failed to cover his face +in time. The mischief was done. + +"Very clever," said the American and laughed. "Very clever and I +nearly bought it, but not quite." He seized Richard's wrist and +twisted it downward. "A word of advice against the future, Mister +Barraclough. Next time you're working a crumple-up don't let the chap +you're pulling it on see you looking at it between your fingers." He +strolled up to the door whistling pensively and halted with his hand on +the latch. "I'm doubting if you're going to be a whole lot of use to +us for you're a tough case. When it comes up at Committee my thumb +points down." + +He went out and the bolt shot home behind him. + +For a long while Richard rocked in his chair muttering. He felt very +lonely and his throat ached, his head ached--he ached all over--a +childish desire to snivel possessed him and could not be subdued. If +only there had been a shoulder, some sweet, kind, soft shoulder to soak +up the tired angry tears that fell and fell. A kindly shoulder, a +gentle voice to drive away the horror of these nightmare days. Was all +sweetness gone out of the world? Was the world no more than four +square walls peopled with devils who asked and asked and asked? Was +there nothing else but greed of money, hatred, want, and damnable +persecution? A voice within cried aloud: "Why suffer it all? Why bear +the brunt of other men's adventure?" Five thousand pounds. Was it a +fair price for breaking one's body against rocks, for shattering one's +soul against man unkind? + +Wild uncontrollable resentment seized him and in its wave tossed him +against the door of his prison battering at the panels with bare fists +and shrieking aloud in a voice he could not recognise as his own. + +"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! You've made a mistake. I'm not Bar'clough, +nev' met him. Richard Frencham Altar I am--father shot +himself--Torrington paying me five thousand--keep it up for three +weeks--but you've made the course too stiff. I can't stay the +distance. I can't stay the distance." + +His knees gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor beating the +boards and blubbering like a school-boy. + +But there came no answer from the hollow empty house and presently the +paroxysm passed and he looked up slowly seeing, as it were, a vision of +himself false to every tradition of manhood he had held most dear. + +"Coward!" he said. "Rotten blasted coward! Three weeks and this is +the last day." He looked at his watch. "Only another hour and then +I'm free to speak. Stick it for another hour. Stick it for another +hour." + +And the very saying of the words seemed to increase his stature, swell +his chest, revitalise his manhood. + +When a moment later the door opened and Van Diest chanting his +perpetual hymn came quietly into the room he found Richard rocking on +his heels beside a chair beating time to the music with a shaking +forefinger while from his parched lips he emitted a pathetic pretence +at whistling the same tune. + +"S'bad," muttered Hugo Van Diest. "S'bad business. Must tink all the +time and be worried by dese things. For God's sake you don't fidget. +You tink all the suffering was wit you, but it was inside of me where +the pain live." + +"Ha ha!" said Richard. + +"Discomfort is nutting. I haf before me the prospec' to be beat. It +wass the torture to be beat. You know that." + +"Not yet." + +"Mus' be taught." + +"Ha ha!" said Richard again and banged the dish cover against the table +implements of a foodless tray that had marked the hour of a meal time. + +"Don't fidget!" roared Van Diest, emitting a cloud of tobacco smoke. + +"Don't smoke!" Richard countered in the same tone. + +"I shmoke on purpose." + +"And I fidget on purpose." + +With a sweep of the hand he sent the tray with a crashing to the floor. + +"Ach! Ach! Ach!" cried Van Diest, and was almost choked with a +violent attack of coughing. + +"I make you to speak! I make you to speak! What if I burn you with my +cigar--what if I----" he stopped abruptly and dropped his voice almost +to a whine. "You don't know how goot I make myself to you. I wass a +very kind man. At my home I keep the birds." + +"Poor darlings," said Richard. + +"The canaries; and you look what I haf here. A portrait of my little +granddaughter Sibelle. She sit on my knee the Sunday afternoon and +listen to the tale of Hansell and Grethel. She call me Grandparkins." + +Richard swept the photograph aside with the back of his hand. + +"I'm not sitting on anyone's knee, Grandparkins," he said. + +A bright purple ran over Van Diest's features in blotches and streaks. +He rose to his feet and held out a quivering forefinger. + +"You pay very heavy to make fun of my heart, Mister Barraclough. If +you haf any senses at all you know that all mens wass the two mens--the +home man and the business man--and the one hass nothing to do with the +udter." + +"Leave it at that," said Richard. "I'm not feeling altogether at home +just now." + +"That was your last word?" + +"My last word." + +"So!" said Van Diest. "So!" His eyebrows went up and down and he +seemed lost in thought for a moment. Finally: "You go into the bedroom +now please." + +He gave the order slowly and to Richard's hypersensitive ears it held a +threat of real and imminent danger. It sounded as the burial service +must sound to a man who stands upon a trap with a knotted cord around +his throat. + +"No!" said Richard. "No!" + +"The bedroom." + +"No!" + +An impasse. They stood like duellists trying to read intention in each +other's eyes. + +Hugo Van Diest made the mistake of his life when he abandoned mental +force for violence. The hand he raised to strike Richard across the +face never reached its mark; instead he felt himself go tottering +backward across the room. There was not much force in the blow Richard +struck, but the science was good and he put his weight into it. Van +Diest took it on the point and as he measured his length on the floor +he saw Richard make a dash for the door which had remained unlocked +during the interview. + +Ezra P. Hipps caught him on the landing outside and put on a jiu-jitsu +armlock which closed the argument and sent Richard staggering toward +his bedroom beaten it is true, but absurdly enough triumphant. + +"Listen you," he gasped, his back against the panel. "You think I can +be made to speak--you're wrong--You think I can be tortured and beaten +and bullied into giving up the secret. You're wrong--wrong. There's +something inside of me that'll lick you, lick you hollow. Do your +damndest, my lads, my breaking point is outside your reach." And as a +Parthian arrow he said "Blast you!" and banged the door. + + + + +CHAPTER 29. + +INDIVIDUAL RESOURCE. + +A point of interest arises as to how long one determined girl armed +with a revolver can hold up three desperate men also armed and further +fortified by greed of gold. Your average tough is not greatly alarmed +by a pistol in the hands of a woman. He banks on the theory that so +long as she thinks she is aiming in his direction, he is moderately +secure from harm. It is when she is pointing at some other object fear +arises as to his safety and well being. + +In this particular instance, however, there was an unusually +threatening quality in the demeanour of Jane. She trained her gun like +any artilleryman and in a manner not lightly to be dismissed by the +casual process of a rush. Added to which the position in which these +adventurers found themselves--a compact mass in a single doorway--did +not offer good opportunities for acts of individual or concerted +heroism. They formed, as it were, a unified target, the bull's-eye of +which was the centre of Alfred Bolt's immense corporation. To suppose +that any marksman, however indifferent, could fail to register a hit +upon so broad an invitation was to betray unreason. + +Dirk who had had previous experience in similar situations remarked +with melancholy that the steely eyed Amazon who commanded their +destinies kept carefully out of reach of his foot. This was a pity +since he was contemplating trying the effect of kicking her on the +knee-cap, a proceeding which if performed adroitly is often fruitful of +happy results. Bolt, too, knew a very effective means of ramming his +head into the solar plexus of an adversary, but this again was a form +of attack dependent on proximity. + +It was Harrison Smith's able staff work that won the day. An old +enough trick, heaven knows, but one that generally works. He waited +till her eyes were upon him, then shifted the direction of his gaze to +a point somewhere behind Jane's back and nodded very quickly. + +She is hardly to be blamed for having swung round, but in the second +before she had recovered her wits and realised the bluff, the pistol +had been snatched away and the three men were pouring through the +French windows into the garden. + +It was Mrs. Barraclough who caught her by the arm and prevented her +from following. + +"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Jane. "I've failed, failed." + +"Nonsense, my dear," said the old lady. "You girls have been just +wonderful." She pointed to an horizon of trees a mile away, where a +cloud of dust showed against the shadows. "Look what a lovely start he +has. My Anthony would never let himself be caught by a pack of +such--such----" She hesitated for lack of a word and added "Dirty +dogs" with astonishing vehemence. + +"But what are we to do now?" wailed Jane. + +"Let us walk down to the village church together and I don't think it +would be wrong if we said a little prayer." + +They had reached the front garden when the Ford car, making a +considerable fuss about it, banged and snorted past the front gate. + +There are those perhaps who will condemn Mrs. Barraclough's action, but +let them remember she was a mother. After all it stands to the credit +of any mid-Victorian lady who, notwithstanding the ravages of seventy +years, is able to pick up a flower pot and hurl it accurately into a +moving vehicle. The Reverend Prometheus Bolt caught the missile full +in the side of the head and the last view the old lady had of him was +under a shower of dirt and broken pottery, while from his lips arose a +cloud of invective more azure than the skies. + +From where the car had been standing appeared Cynthia the cook. In her +hand she carried a watering can, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes +wild. + +"I'd have done in their car if you'd held 'em a moment longer," she +panted indignantly. "Didn't have time to slash their tyres but I did +manage to get about half a pint of water in the petrol tank before they +slung me into the hedge." + +And very valuable was the help thus afforded for within a mile the Ford +had banged and snuffled itself to a standstill and twenty minutes were +lost draining the tank and blotting up the rust coloured drops from the +bottom of the float chamber. Both Dirk and Bolt were in favour of +returning to the house in order to conduct a punitive campaign, but +Harrison Smith would not hear of this. + +"We must push the damn car all we know how," he said, Working +feverishly at the union of the induction pipe with a spanner that +didn't fit. "If we haven't caught up with them by eight o'clock I +shall drop Bolt at a post office and he must get through to the Chief." + +"What, the Dutchman?" + +"No choice. It's infernal luck, but better that than let him get +through with the thing." + +"If you ask me, Smith," said Bolt critically. "If you ask my opinion +I'd say you've made a bloomer of this show." + +"You can keep your opinion till I do ask for it," came the retort. +"Get in. She's clear now." + +He took a heave on the starting handle and jumped to his place at the +wheel. + +"Keep your eye on those tyre marks, Dirk. If you lose 'em I'll break +your head." + +And from the spirit of this remark it will be seen that kindliness and +fellowship had gone by the board. + + + + +CHAPTER 30. + +THE TRUE AURIOLE. + +Hugo Van Diest struggled to his feet gasping for breath and stroking +his chin with sympathetic fingers. Comparatively speaking, Richard's +blow had been a light one, but the Dutchman's training had not fitted +him for taking punishment. He was hurt, outraged and resentful. + +"This young man wass very violent, Hipps," he muttered jerkily. "I +donno--s'no use--seems." + +"Are we beat, Chief?" + +"I don't like this word 'beat.' Mus' be a way." He paused for a +moment to recover his breath then turned to Laurence. "This Miss +Craven, she hass not arrifed yet?" + +"She's here. Came five minutes ago." + +"She know how we stand, yes?" + +Hipps nodded. + +"She don't quite register on the line we've adopted to make him talk. +Kind o' kept that in the background. Women are soft." + +"Ask she come up," said Van Diest. + +And Laurence went out passing Blayney who was on duty outside the door. + +"What's the bend, Chief?" demanded Hipps. + +Van Diest shook his head thoughtfully. "Donno, donno. Wass awful if +we mus' do someting. Eh? Hipps, eh?" + +And he tilted his head suggestively toward Richard's bedroom. + +"His own damn fault," came the answer. + +"But it wass a man's life, Hipps." + +"I've no choice that way myself." + +Van Diest began to pace the floor, his fingers tattooing on his chest +and his head going from side to side. + +"We ought to haf read better the character of this man. S'no good to +know about the monies and not about the mens. We find ourselves in a +terrible position. Ss! Terrible--terrible." + +There was a clatter of footsteps on the stairs and Laurence, a +telegraph form in his hand, burst into the room. + +"What you haf there?" + +"Can't make head nor tail of the damn thing. Read it aloud," cried +Laurence excitedly. + +Ezra Hipps moved over to his Chief's side as the old man picked out the +code words and translated them aloud. + +The message was simple enough. + +"'Saw Barraclough Polperro this morning. Been following all day. +Escaped in Panhard, probably will enter London by Portsmouth or Great +Western Road. Am pursuing in Ford car. Obstruct. Harrison Smith.'" + +It was handed in at eight o'clock and postmarked Wimborne. + +"Saw Barraclough!" repeated Hipps. "Harrison Smith's gone crazy." + +For a moment Van Diest said nothing, then remarked: + +"Smart man, you know. Smart man." + +"He's made a mistake," said Laurence. "How in hell could he see +Barraclough when----" There was no point in finishing the sentence. + +"S'not often he make a mistake. Our opponents haf been ver' quiet, you +know, ver' quiet. Perhaps now they draw the kipper across the path." + +"He's got bats," said Hipps. "Been standing in the sun." + +"I'd ignore the whole thing," said Laurence. "Ten to one it's a trick. +A stunt put up by our adversaries." + +"In our private code, Laurence? No, no, no. I tink it wass well we +take some precautions with this gentlemen who wass so like our guest. +You will telephone to Mr. Phillips please that I would like some of +those roads that lead into London made--difficult." Then as Laurence +seemed disposed to argue: "You haf your orders," he thundered. + +As Laurence was leaving the room, Auriole came in and stood hesitating +on the threshold. + +"Ah! Miss Craven," said Van Diest stooping to kiss her fingers. "For +you a little work. You will talk to our guest, yes? So stubborn he +wass. You ver' clever woman, ver' gentle. You put your arms around +him--so! You whisper, you beseech, you ver' sympathetic. P'r'aps you +make 'im cry. Then he tell you what he refuse to tell us. +S'understood?" + +"Yes, I understand," said Auriole in a small voice. + +"Goot! Then we go downstairs now. Come, Hipps." At the door he +paused. "S'ver' important you succeed because we haf tried all the +rest." He spoke the final words slowly and with great meaning, then +turned and went out. + +Auriole caught Ezra Hipps by the sleeve as he passed her. + +"What does he means--'all the rest?'" she questioned. + +The American scarcely paused in his stride. "Think it over," he said, +and closed the door behind him. + +With a heart that thumped hammer blows against her side, Auriole turned +toward Richard's bedroom and paused with her hand on the latch. She +felt as a traitor might feel who was seeking audience of his sovereign. +For a traitor she was. False to her original employers, to her ideals +and to a man who, even though he might have stirred in her the hope of +a wedding had never willingly wrought her a single wrong. A dozen +times in the last three days her hand had gone out to the telephone and +the will had been there to confess to Cranbourne that her allegiance to +his side existed no longer, but even in this her honesty had broken +down. She saw herself, as she hesitated on the threshold, a wretched +mercenary creature--the sport of greed and jealousy--self-centred and +governed by thought of gain. It was not a pleasant reflection. For +the doubtful blessing of being wife to an unscrupulous millionaire she +had deafened her ears to the call of every decent instinct. + +And now the Fates had so contrived that it rested with her to make the +supreme final appeal and on her success or failure depended the safety +and future of the man within. A horrible conviction came over her that +these men who held Barraclough captive would indeed stop at nothing to +gain their ends and that the innuendoes they had uttered were terribly +in earnest. Unless he were persuaded to speak his very life would be +forfeit, and it was this consideration that fortified her to make the +effort. + +Richard was sprawling on the wire mattress when she threw open the +door. He raised a pair of hollow eyes that looked at her without +recognition. Instinctively she shrunk away from him appalled at the +changes in his face and bearing. + +"What have they been doing to you?" was startled from her. + +Richard hitched himself into a sitting posture and coughed. + +"Who are you?" he said. + +"Don't you even know me?" + +He thought before replying. + +"Yes, I know you. You're the woman who was jealous of someone." + +"Someone! Is that how you speak of your sweetheart!" + +"Wait a bit. It's coming back. Isabel, wasn't it? Isabel Irish. +Well, what do you want?" + +She came a little nearer. + +"To be with you. I haven't seen you for a long time, now." + +"You deserted me, didn't you? I m-missed you at first. Th' one bright +spot your coming." + +"Was it?" she whispered. + +He staggered to his feet and walked rockily into the inner room. + +"No! What'm I saying. Man with a sweetheart doesn't want you." + +"Tony!" + +"No, no. 'Cos you're the worst devil of the lot. Decoyed me to this +damn place." + +"Tony, I'm so sorry," her hand fell on his sleeve, but he drew away. + +"Don't come near me. Don't touch me. I mustn't be touched." + +"Then I'll sit over here," said she. + +"Yes, there. No, get out. Leave me alone, d'y' hear?" His voice +pitched up high and imperative, but as suddenly dropped again. "I beg +your pardon. I'm not much of a man to talk to a woman jus' now." + +"I think you're a very fine man, Tony." + +"Ha! Yes. A devil of a fellow!" + +"But so stubborn," she whispered. + +"There you go," he cried. "I knew it. I knew you came here for that." + +"Tony! Tony!" she implored. "This has gone too far. You've been +splendid, but what's the use. Just think, my dear, how rich you'd be." + +"I don't want to be rich. Rich men torture each other," he cried, +steadying himself against the back of a chair. + +"You've only to say one word and you can walk out of here without a +care in the world." + +The sound of violins was in her voice. The promise of life care-free +and full of sunshine was in her eyes and the curve of her smile. + +He tried to look away, but the appeal was too strong. + +"I can walk out of here," he repeated. "Out of here!" + +"Such a lovely world, too." + +The touch of her breath on his cheek was like a breeze and the smell of +her hair like violets. + +"Yes, yes." + +"A great big garden of a world," he crooned, and no song ever sounded +sweeter. + +He felt his power to resist was ebbing away--falling from him like a +cloak. With a mighty effort, he replied: + +"A garden full of Eves." + +And he sat humped up upon the camp bed. Auriole glided toward him and +slipped her arms round his neck. He made no effort to escape. + +"Eves are rather nice," she whispered. + +His head tilted back against her. + +"Rather nice," he echoed. "Rather nice. Soft shoulders where a man +can rest his head." A glorious drowsiness was stealing over his limbs, +a blessed sense of drifting into unknown contentment. She drew up her +knees and they sat huddled together on the narrow canvas bed like babes +in a wood. He was barely conscious of her voice. It came to his ears +as gently as the sound of waves running over sand. + +"--all the wonderful things we could do, Tony. The plans we could make +come true. We could go out to a fairy-like dinner together--in one of +your wonderful cars you could fetch me--and the streets would be +twinkling with lights like jewels in Aladdin's cave." + +Then he found he was talking too. + +"A farm in New Zealand," he said. "Great flocks of sheep and herds of +cattle. I know the place. There are mountains with snow caps, green +grass plains, black firs and running water. I could have all that--if +only--But no." + +"Nothing is out of reach, Tony. Everything can be yours at the price +of a little sentence--just a little sentence." + +"No, no." + +"Yon need never see those others again, but just tell me. Men tell +everything to women, they can't keep a secret from a woman. Nature +never intended they should. That's why Nature made women the mothers +because the first secret of life is theirs, and all the rest follow +after." + +"You're bad, bad," he moaned. "A cheat trying to get at me by +kindness." + +"And isn't kindness worth a little? Come, kneel down and whisper. It +will be easy with your head in my lap and my arms around you. Kneel +down and whisper." + +Heaven perhaps could tell where Richard found that last speck of sand +which gave him the power to spring to his feet, to shake off the subtle +influence of touch and voice, and to answer in a voice that fairly rang +with resolve: + +"No, nothing--_nothing_." + +To Auriole he looked almost godlike as he stood with clenched fists and +every fibre quivering. It was in that instant of admiration and +amazement she recognised him as another man and the cry burst from her +lips: + +"You're not Anthony Barraclough!" + +Richard wavered visibly and for the first time she saw real fear in his +eye. + +"What are you saying? You're mad," he answered. + +"You're not Anthony Barraclough!" + +"I am. I am." + +"No!" She seized him by the shoulders and stared into his face. +"You're different, your eyes, your mouth. Who are you?" + +"Anthony Barraclough!" he cried. + +"It's not true. Anthony would never have stood this. The men, yes. +The torture, yes, but he always gives way to a woman. Who are you?" + +"I've said," he answered brokenly. "I've said." + +A turmoil of thoughts raced through her mind and she spoke them aloud. + +"Anthony away getting the concession. You here taking his place. It +was clever--clever. Damn them for letting you do it. And you've done +it so wonderfully--borne all this when at a word you might----" + +"Talking nonsense," he moaned desperately. + +"And you don't know what the secret is. No one but Anthony does. +That's true, isn't it?" + +"I do know. I do know--won't say." + +"You can't know. That's true, isn't it? Answer me--answer!" + +And quite suddenly Richard Frencham Altar's world went all black and +his knees gave way beneath him. He fell with his head in his hands +crying and gasping like a broken hearted child. And Auriole came to +him and put her arms round him and kissed his neck, his hair, and his +poor thin hands. + +"And I've helped in the torture," she sobbed. "Broken you down. Oh! +what a beast. What a beast I am." + +"Very tired," said Richard. "Want to go to sleep." + +"There's no sleep for you in this house except----" + +The door opened and Ezra Hipps walked in. + +"Sorry to interrupt," he said, "but how's things?" + +"I was just coming," said Auriole with a quick pretence at light +heartedness. "I have something important to say." + +Hipps shook Richard by the shoulder. + +"How's that memory?" he enquired. + +Once again the last reserves were pushed into the line. + +"Bad," said Richard. "Damn bad." + +"Then I guess that ends the play," said the American. + +"I want you," said Auriole. "Please." + +They went out of the room together. + + + + +CHAPTER 31. + +A WAY OUT. + +When Auriole slipped quietly into the room five minutes later she found +Richard asleep on the camp bed with Blayney's kit bag tucked under his +head. + +Below stairs there existed a state of turmoil. She had exploded her +bombshell as to Richard's false identity secure in the belief that it +would result in his immediate liberation. + +"But Hell! what are you thinking off?" Hipps had roared. "D'you +imagine we can pass him out after what's happened? So long as the +fellar's above ground we ain't safe." + +"You can't mean----" she had cried. + +"We're busy. Keep out of the path, kid." + +She had left them rattling instructions through the telephone to a +person called Phillips. The need of the moment from their point of +view was to waylay the returning Barraclough. + +Van Diest was shouting for his car and from the jargon of voices, +Auriole learnt their intention of making an immediate descent upon the +rival camp to demand terms. In the midst of the chaos Auriole slipped +away, snatched up a bottle of champagne and some biscuits from the +dining table and ran up the stairs to Richard's room. + +Parker, who was at the door, shot the bolt after she entered and in so +doing destroyed a foolish hope that she might succeed in getting +Richard out of the house while the excitement relaxed observation. Her +two seater car was under the trees at the end of the road and if they +could reach it---- + +She seized Richard's arm and stifled the cry he gave with her other +hand. + +"Hush, hush, for pity's sake," she implored. "Here's some +champagne--drink it. No, no, it isn't poison--drink--drink," and she +filled a glass that stood upon the table. "Eat these biscuits too, and +listen to me." + +Of course he did not understand. He drank the champagne and ate the +biscuits wolfishly while she talked. It was clear something had +happened--some unlooked for reversal of feeling--but beside the food +and drink nothing seemed to matter. The good wine felt like new life +blood flowing through his veins. + +"They're downstairs now," she said. "Making up their minds." + +He found intelligence enough to ask: + +"They know I'm not Barraclough?" + +"I told them, yes." + +"You shouldn't," he said simply. + +"I thought they'd let you go." + +"Well?" He refilled his glass. + +"They said it wouldn't be possible now. That's why I've got to get you +away--somehow--somehow." + +She was moving desperately up and down the room as though by very +desire she would create an opening in the walls. + +"Get me away!" he said stupidly. "Why do you want to get me away?" + +"Because you're a different man, a splendid man. And they're beasts +and brutes." + +It was all very confusing, very unbelievable. Richard had a faint +impression that it was happening to someone else or in a dream. Why +was this wonderful creature worrying about him. The wine was mounting +to his head. + +"A splendid man," he repeated senselessly. "And you want to get me +away. Tha's kind--kind." + +"I've a car outside if we could only reach it." + +That was a droll thing to say, but it sounded real. He answered as +though someone had actually spoken of a car outside and a chance of +reaching it. + +"Not a hope." + +The bottle was empty now, which was a good thing. + +"There must be. The windows!" + +He shook his head as she ran toward them. If the beautiful lady wanted +to play the escape game he might as well take an intelligent interest +and play it sensibly. + +"No good," said he. "Soon as you lift the shutter bar an alarm starts +ringing and they all rush in." + +"S'pose we did that," said Auriole with a sudden idea. "Worked in the +dark, started the bell, and when they came in made a dash for it." + +Sensible talk this, he must reply sensibly. + +"No good. One of 'em always stands in the door." + +"Then somehow we must get them away from the door into your bedroom." + +That was logical, interesting, too. + +"Of course we must get them away from the door. Tha's the idea. Tha's +the idea," he said. + +"Oh! can't you think of a way?" she begged. + +It wasn't fair to ask questions. The game was of her invention, not +his. Still, in common politeness one must take a hand, show a +willingness. It would be awful if she lost patience with him and left +him to his loneliness. + +He answered that unspoken fear simply as a child. + +"But you won't leave me alone again, will you?" + +"Can't you realise I'm on your side," she said, shaking him by the arm. + +"My side, yes," he repeated. "I'm glad you're on my side. We're +friends aren't we?" + +To this pleasant reflection he sat down on the hard chair and smiled +happily. Friends is a lovely word to play with when one has been over +long neglected. He wished she would sit too, and make a pillow for his +head, but instead she was flitting from place to place acting in the +oddest way. From the camp bed she had dragged Blayney's kit bag and +was buttoning it into an old dressing gown provided for his use. + +"I must have a head," she was saying, which sounded idiotic to Richard +who saw that her own was beautiful. + +He pointed to a bronze bust of Van Diest which had been placed on the +mantelpiece a few days before, presumably to act as a reminder of the +influence dominating the apartment. + +"Try that one," he suggested, laughing inanely. + +But Auriole did not laugh. She gave a glad cry and called on him to +help. Together they carried the bust and soon had tied it securely +inside the dressing gown. + +It did not occur to Richard to ask the reason why this strange dummy +had been created. It was all of a piece with the dream-like spirit +which pervaded everything. Her explanation was voluntary. + +"It's to put in your bed," she said. "We'll take out the electric +bulbs, then start the bells going. When they come in and you don't +answer they'll go into the bedroom. They'll find this and think it's +you." + +"Think this is me!" said Richard. "That's funny." He broke into a +storm of laughter which ended as abruptly as it began, ended from a +sudden realisation that all this folly and mummery was a real and solid +effort to compass his escape. "Wait a bit," he said, rubbing his brow +fiercely. "It's coming back. I see the idea. Bless you, for trying. +We'll have a shot." + +He dragged the dummy into the inner room by the waist cord of the +dressing gown which was tied about its neck. The brain fog was gone. +He was surprisingly clear headed now, and an unnatural vitality buoyed +him up. The bedroom door swung to behind him and he heard Auriole cry: + +"I'm doing the lights, be quick." + +And at that moment he had a notion and acted upon it quickly. An old +gas bracket over the door helped the operation. When he had finished +he kicked over a chair and re-entered the now pitch dark room. + +"I've got hold of the shutter bar," he heard her cry. + +"Let her go," he answered. + +And down in the hall below they heard the big alarm bell clang out the +warning. + +Clinging to each other's hands they waited, their backs flattened +against the wall. And presently it came; the sound of men's footsteps +dashing up the stairs. The door burst open and a number of dark shapes +poured into the room. Framed in the open doorway, a black silhouette +against the light from the well of the staircase, stood Blayney, a +pistol in his hand. + +There was a veritable hubbub of voices. "What's the matter with the +lights?" "Where are the switches?" "Hell! that sucker is trying to +put it over on us!" "The bedroom shutters--He's trying to escape." +"For Lord's sake where's the door?" + +Someone found the knob in the darkness and the bedroom door was flung +open. There was a scream from Laurence. Then Hipps' voice bellowing: + +"Great God! he's hanged himself." + +Swinging from the lintel, shadowy against the grey light beyond was, +apparently, the figure of Richard Frencham Altar dangling on a rope. + +Even the perfectly trained Blayney deserted his post to leap forward +and see, and in that instant of neglect, Richard and Auriole darted +from the room and slammed and bolted the door. + +Nor could Richard resist the temptation of lifting an exultant cry of, +"Good-night, gentlemen," ere he was seized by Auriole and hurried down +the stairs. + +As they passed through the front garden and ran stumbling toward the +waiting car they could hear above them the sound of curses and hammer +blows echoing through the house. + + + + +CHAPTER 32. + +THE APPOINTED HOUR. + +Hilbert Torrington was first to arrive. His big car deposited him at +Crest Chambers at ten forty-five, a quarter of an hour before the time +promised for Barraclough's arrival. The ever attentive Doran took his +hat and coat, turned on the table lamp and provided him with a pack of +Patience cards. + +"You look hopeful, sir," he remarked. + +"I always expect the best till I have knowledge of the worst," came the +smiling rejoinder. "I trust you have quite recovered from the effects +of the anaesthetic." + +"Thank you, sir. But my recovery'll date from the hour the Captain +gets back." + +Doran liked to refer to his master by the military rank he had borne +during the war. + +"To be sure," said Mr. Torrington. "That will be a welcome event to +all of us." + +Next came Cranbourne, very anxious and ever pulling out his watch, +tugging at his lower lip or pacing up and down. + +"Why not take a chair?" suggested Mr. Torrington. + +"Can't! I feel things y'know." + +"All my life I've been feeling things without showing it," came the +reflective observation. "If only I had that two of diamonds! It's +sure to be the last card." + +"How you can sit there playing cards!" + +"I'm too old to walk about." + +Cranbourne stopped and looked at him. + +"Mr. Torrington," he said. "Has it occurred to you that in undertaking +this thing we have been guilty of grave wrong-doing? To line our own +pockets while we stayed safe at home men have gone out at the risk of +their lives. We may talk of adventure--the romance of business--we may +call our job by a dozen pretty names, but it analyses out at something +fairly damnable when we apply the supreme test." + +Mr. Torrington nodded. + +"And yet what is the alternative?" he asked. "Life is only a matter of +diamond cut diamond." + +"It's a scavenger's job," said Cranbourne. "And you can't get away +from that." + +"Without conflict there would be no progress." + +Cranbourne shook his head angrily. + +"What right have we to control other men's destinies?" he said. "Where +is the justice that puts such men as ourselves in command?" + +"Opportunity does that, not justice," said Mr. Torrington slowly. "My +first employment was cleaning windows. I saw a man, who was so +engaged, fall from a fourth floor sill into the street. I picked him +up dead, carried him into the building and I asked for his job. A +nasty story isn't it?" + +Cranbourne snorted. + +"It covers us all," he said. "We spend our lives robbing flowers from +cemeteries, keeping our souls in our trousers pockets along with the +other small change. Hullo!" + +Doran opened the door and announced Nugent Cassis. That meant that all +over the town clocks would be striking eleven. + +"Any news?" he rapped out. + +"None." + +"But there wouldn't be," said Cranbourne. "He promised to send a +message when he was nearing home. It's time he was here." The little +man was plainly agitated. + +Hilbert Torrington smiled at him over the carefully arranged playing +cards. + +"They tell me, Cassis, your wife has been indisposed. I trust she is +better." + +"I really don't know," came the irritable response. "You can hardly +expect----" + +"These trifles so easily escape us," murmured the old man. + +Nugent Cassis scowled and turned to Cranbourne. + +"How's that other fellow getting on? What's his name--Altar?" + +"He's holding out." + +"At Laurence's house?" + +"I believe so." + +"You've heard from the woman lately!" + +"Not lately." + +"I've a doubt about that woman. She's been seen a good bit with the +American. I've had them watched. Nothing would surprise me less than +to hear she'd given us away." + +"That's hardly likely, Cassis, since she believes it is Barraclough +they've got hold of." + +"Women are very tricky. I don't trust 'em! Suppose they've made it +uncomfortable for Frencham Altar, what? Well it was only to be +expected." + +The callous practicality of tone fired Cranbourne to answer: + +"Expected, yes. But one of these days if there's any justice knocking +about this old world of ours we shall have to pay." + +"Five thousand was the price," retorted Cassis. + +It is probable there might have been a row had not Mr. Torrington +intervened with the suggestion that Frencham Altar's cheque should be +signed while they were waiting. Cassis obstructed the idea. He +thought tomorrow would be quite soon enough. He scouted Mr. +Torrington's statement that on the morrow they would have to see about +Frencham Altar's release. He said that this was a matter dependant on +Barraclough's return. + +"Our contract with Altar terminated at eleven tonight," insisted Mr. +Torrington. "Kindly sign this cheque beneath my signature." + +And very grumblingly Cassis obliged. + +"We have staked a lot of money on this affair," he said. + +"Yes, and not a little reputation," replied the old man. + +"Don't follow your reasoning." + +"I'm getting old, Cassis, reaching the age when the hereafter becomes +the nearafter." + +"Then I should retire from business before you waste any more money," +said Cassis with surprising venom. + +But Mr. Torrington did not resent the remark since he knew how nerves +affect certain dispositions. + +The arrival of Lord Almont Frayne, resplendent from the Opera, relieved +the situation of tension. It would have taken a very practised eye to +detect anxiety under the mask of bored and elegant indifference he had +assumed. He apologised for being late, but had been button-holed by a +fellow in the foyer who wanted to talk polo. Very disappointing +evening altogether. The prima donna had sung flat and an understudy +was on for Tenor's part. It was only as an after thought he mentioned +the object of their meeting and he touched upon it in the lightest vein. + +"Nothing doing?" + +"Nothing." + +"Ah! well, it's early yet. Hot ain't it? Mind if I get myself a peg?" +He was crossing to the decanter when he stopped, drew an envelope from +his pocket and placed it on the table before Mr. Torrington. + +"What do you make of that?" he asked. "Came early this morning, no +post mark--nothing--just slipped through the box." + +Hilbert Torrington took from the envelope a single flower pressed +almost flat. It was a dog rose. + +"Odd," he muttered, "distinctly odd." He weighed the flower in his +hand and sniffed the envelope critically. It had no scent. "You have +no one, Almont--I mean, there isn't anyone who'd be likely to--Well, +you're a young man." + +"Oh, Lord! no, nothing of that kind." + +And Almont's inflection suggested that the very idea of such a thing +caused him pain. + +Hilbert Torrington pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling. + +"What does a dog rose suggest to you, Cassis?" + +"A silly interruption," replied that gentleman sourly. + +"Yes, yes, but was there not--dear me, it's so long ago I've almost +forgotten--was there not some floral Lingua Franca--Ah! the language of +flowers." + +Cassis snorted, but Cranbourne was at the book shelves in an instant. + +"It's printed at the back of dictionaries," he said. "Here's one!" He +took out a volume and turned over the pages as he spoke. "This is it. +Rose--Love. Yellow rose--jealousy. White rose--I am worthy of you. +Dog rose--Hope." + +"Hope," repeated Mr. Torrington. + +Lord Almont struck the table and sprang to his feet. + +"By God!" he cried. "Barraclough's going to win through." + +In the midst of a babel of tongues the telephone rang imperatively. +Mr. Torrington picked up the receiver. + +"Yes, yes," he said. "Who? You are speaking for Mr. Van Diest." + +The three other men came instantly to attention and exchanged glances. +There was a pause. Then Mr. Torrington said: + +"Indeed! Oh, very well--delightful," and he replaced the receiver. + +"What's happened?" Almont demanded. + +"I don't entirely know. But it appears that Van Diest and his amiable +colleague Hipps, are shortly paying us a visit--here." + +There was a moment of consternation. + +"But Good Lord!" exclaimed Cranbourne. "That may mean anything." + +Nugent Cassis threw up his hands desperately. Every vestige of his +quiet business habit had vanished and instead he was a nerve-racked +exasperated man who paced up and down jerking out half sentences, +reproaches and forecasts of failure. + +"It's that fellow Frencham Altar given us away. Damn stupid +introducing the type--man on a bench--Means ruin to the lot of us. +Coming here are they? Refuse to see them. I knew there'd be a break +down somewhere--felt it in my joints--If everything had gone according +to schedule, Barraclough would have been back by now--Punctual +man--reliable----" + +"Big stakes involve big risks," said Mr. Torrington sweetly. + +"And haven't we taken them?" Cassis barked. "Good Heavens alive! +why--What's that?" + +There was a murmur of voices in the hall, the room door was thrown +open, and Isabel Irish came in breathlessly. She threw a quick glance +round the circle of faces as though seeking someone. + +"Where is he? Where's Tony? It's after eleven--half past--Why isn't +he here?" + +Mr. Torrington rose and offered a chair, which she refused with a +gesture. + +"We are waiting, my dear." + +"But why isn't he here?" she repeated. + +"How can we possibly say?" ejaculated Cassis testily. "In a venture of +this kind----" + +She caught up the word "venture" and threw it back at him. + +"No message, nothing." + +Cranbourne was about to answer, but Torrington interrupted him to tell +her of the dog rose Lord Almont had received. + +"That was from him--that was from Tony," she cried. "I gave him a +spray of them on the night he started." + +"That's encouraging," said Lord Almont. + +But Cassis was not in a mood to be encouraged. + +"It may mean much or little," he snorted. "Still, there is nothing to +prevent our hoping." + +Of all worldly trials, waiting is the severest, and tatters the nerves +quicker than any other. Isabel Irish did not like Nugent Cassis--he +belonged to the money people who had no real existence in her +reckoning--but ordinarily speaking she would never have lashed out at +him with such vehemence. The fire in her voice and eyes entirely +robbed the little man of power to retort. Nor was the tirade she +uttered levelled at him alone, everyone present came in for a share. +One small girl with a shock of curly hair whipping with scorpions the +heads of a mighty financial concern. + +"Hoping he'll get through with the cash," she said, "so that you can +have money and more money and then more money. That's all he counts +for to you--a machine to fill your pockets---- Doesn't matter if he +gets broken throwing out the coins, wouldn't matter if he never came +back at all so long as the concession came safely to hand. Oh! it +makes me sick--it makes me sick." Her voice broke, but she forced the +tears back by sheer strength of will. "He may be dead--anything may +have happened to him---- And you could have prevented it all, sent an +army to protect him. But no, that wouldn't do--too conspicuous--other +people might find out--profits might have to be divided--so all you can +do is to sit in a circle waiting--waiting--like a dog with a biscuit on +its nose for the words 'Paid for, paid for.'" + +And having emptied out her soul's measure of resentment she threw +herself onto the sofa and sobbed and sobbed with her curly head in Mr. +Torrington's lap. + +No one spoke, not even when Doran came in and whispered that Van Diest +and Hipps had arrived and demanded audience. It was Cranbourne who +came forward and picking her up in his arms like an injured child +carried her into the other room and laid her on Barraclough's bed. + +"We haven't lost yet, my dear," he said, and stroked her forehead. + +He left her crying gently on the pillow, her little pink cheeks all +shiny with tears. + +Mr. Torrington waited for Cranbourne to return before giving Doran +instructions to show in the gentlemen. To Cassis' unspoken protest he +replied: + +"They evidently have some information which we lack. It would be wise +to find out what it is." + +Ezra P. Hipps was first to enter. He came in like a triumphant army +occupying captured territory. Close upon his heels was Hugo Van Diest, +smiling ingratiatingly and bowing to the company. Hilbert Torrington +rose and returned the courtesy. + +"An unexpected pleasure, gentlemen. And what precisely do you want?" + +"I guess it's a talk to the man who shoots the bull in the ring," Hipps +replied, and added: "That substitute trick has exploded and the chap +who pulled it has done a guy." + +Mr. Torrington and Cranbourne exchanged glances. + +"Am I to understand that Mr. Frencham Altar has found your hospitality +too oppressive?" he asked. + +"Put it how you like, but that's a side show," came the answer. "We're +here on business." + +Nugent Cassis had recovered some of his self-possession and remarked +crisply: + +"We are very busy, Mr. Hipps." + +"And since the light came into the temple, Nugent Cassis, we've been +busy ourselves. Struck me one or two little matters need adjusting." + +"Your treatment of the substitute for example," said Cranbourne. + +"Not unlikely, but that job'll keep, and it's in hand already under +Laurence." + +"Dear me, we are being very frank, are we not?" murmured Mr. Torrington. + +"Gentlemen, it's come to our ears that a certain Mr. Barraclough is +taking grave risks tonight to get home." + +Cranbourne flashed an eye at the bedroom door. "Go on!" he said. +"Talk straight, man." + +Hilbert Torrington held up a hand. + +"One minute," he suggested. "I imagine Mr. Hipps is reluctant to speak +out before so many witnesses. It would be better perhaps if Mr. Van +Diest and myself discussed this matter in private. Is everyone +agreeable?" + +There was some small demur, but it was finally agreed upon. The others +went out into the hall, leaving Mr. Torrington and Van Diest alone. + +They were both very smiling and scrupulously polite, but the air of the +room seemed to crackle with stored electricity. The Dutchman was given +a chair by the writing table and cigarettes were placed at his elbow. +Indeed, every social amenity was observed before Hilbert Torrington +fired the first round. + +"Let us assume, Van Diest, that we are neither of us honourable men." + +Van Diest took quite a long time lighting a cigarette before replying. + +"You don't mind if I smoke?" + +"It's an admirable sedative for conscience and nerves alike. Wouldn't +you prefer a cigar of Barraclough's?" + +"Ach! it wass of this young man I wass about to speak." + +"I had almost guessed it," said Mr. Torrington, and picking up the +patience cards began to lay them out in little packs. + +"It is said he iss on the road tonight--wass seen by a man who hass +done some works for me." + +"Indeed! That must have surprised you very much. After cherishing the +belief that he was snugly accommodated at Laurence's house." + +Van Diest acknowledged this thrust gracefully. + +"A clever idea thiss substitute--a nice fellow too--vonderful +determination." + +"Hm! Careless of you to lose him." + +"Mislay, my friend. I do not know thiss verb to lose." + +"So you come to me for instruction? Ah well, it's never too late to +learn." + +For the first time Van Diest scowled, but quickly controlled his +features and waved a hand over the cards. + +"You tell your fortune, eh?" + +"Dear me, no! I can wait for that to develop. A mere game of +patience, nothing more." + +"There are times, Mr. Torrington, when action is of more value than +patience." + +"I treasure your opinion," came the smiling rejoinder. "What was it +you were saying? A man of yours saw Barraclough? Was that all he did?" + +"Not a very smart man that." + +"But you've others--smarter?" + +"Mus' not let ourselves be beat, y'know." + +"So galling isn't it?" + +"I haf no experience," retorted Van Diest, and rising crossed to a +canary cage in the window where, to Mr. Torrington's silent +indignation, he spent quite a long while whistling and saying "Sweet +sweet" to the little inmate. + +"But what if you are beaten already, Van Diest? Anthony Barraclough is +on his way home presumably with the concession in his pocket." + +"But he hass not yet arrifed, eh? Dicky, eh? Oh, this poor little one +he will miss his master. So the poor--the poor--Sweet! Sweet!" + +Mr. Torrington frowned and placing a piece of sugar from the saucer of +his coffee cup in a spoon held it out at arm's length. + +"Present this sugar to your feathered friend with my compliments," said +he. "And ask him to excuse you for a moment." + +Hugo Van Diest returned to the table wreathed in smiles. + +"So you wish to talk. Proceed." + +"If Barraclough has the concession what have you to gain?" The banter +had died out of the old man's voice. + +"There wass millions of concessions never taken up. S'pose thiss one +is lost, eh? Who will be the wiser?" + +"I see. Dog in the Manger?" + +"We lock the stable door before the horse arrife that is all." + +"And how far have you decided to go--all the way?" + +Van Diest appeared to deliberate before answering. + +"Accidents, you know, they will happen. These boys wass ver' reckless. +With all these motors and trains life is risky, the streets too, are +dangerous. You never know with these boys." He stopped as Hilbert +Torrington drew the telephone toward him. "What are you going to do?" + +"Ring up the Police, my friend. You will be charged with conspiracy +and intent to murder." + +Van Diest's little eyes glittered threateningly. "By the time the +Police arrife it will be too late," said he. "Put down that telephone. +I wass not so easily frightened." His voice pitched up and seemed +suddenly to catch fire. He rose to his feet and beat the table with +both hands. "You fool, thiss wass business, business, business, the +meaning, the motive of my whole life, and if you think I give way at +the threat of a rope you don't know Hugo Van Diest. My heart, my whole +soul, I haf invest in this enterprise and I don't leave it. I don't +move one inch till I haf what I want." + +"Money?" thundered Mr. Torrington. + +"Pounds, my friend, shillings and pence." + +"And men's lives." There was a fine scorn in the old man's tone. +"Money! I hate the name of it. It turns the honour and cleanliness of +men into trashy circles of metal. To business then. What chance has +Barraclough of winning through?" + +"Very small." + +"Go on!" + +"If you want that thiss radium company shall be floated you would haf +the better chance if----" + +"Well?" + +"You gif to us one-third interest." + +"And that represents his chances?" + +Van Diest nodded unpleasantly. + +"But you will understand of course, that there iss not a lot of time to +lose." + +"In a word you are prepared to call off your dogs for a matter of +millions." + +"So!" + +The bedroom door was flung open and Isabel burst excitedly into the +room. + +"There are some horrible men watching the back of the flats," she +cried. "Are they ours?" + +"Perhaps you would like to answer this young lady?" asked Mr. +Torrington. + +But Van Diest only shrugged his shoulders. Isabel ran to the window. + +"And there--down there," she pointed to the street below, "there are +more. What does it mean?" + +The sound of her cries brought the others hurrying into the room. + +"What is it now?" demanded Cassis. + +But Hilbert Torrington was at the telephone. What he actually said +sounded incomprehensible, but what it actually meant to the man who +received it was an order to despatch a dozen men immediately to the +doors of the flats and distribute a sprinkling over the neighbouring +streets. There might be a fight, there probably would. If Barraclough +were seen a body guard was to be formed at once. + +Isabel was repeating her question at the window. + +"Those men! Who are they? What does it mean?" + +It was Cranbourne who had the honesty to reply. + +"Danger!" + + + + +CHAPTER 33. + +A SMASH UP. + +Flora's handling of the old Panhard was beyond praise. Accurate, well +judged and with just enough dash of risk at cross roads or in traffic +to steal an extra mile or two on the average speed per hour. The night +had chilled and Anthony Barraclough, wrapped in his mother's cloak +watched the girl beside him with a queer mixture of admiration and +impatience. Admiration for her faultless nerve and impatience that the +car for all its ancient virtue in no sense could be termed a +speed-monger. Flora's attitude amused him too, it was so tremendously +intense, so devoted to duty and withal so exactingly efficient. There +is no particular reason why it should be so, but it always tickles the +male sense of humour to watch a woman do a man's job as capably as a +man himself could do it. Her conduct when they punctured on the long +stretch between Wimbourne and Ringwood had been exemplary. She jacked +up, changed wheels and was away again in the shortest possible time. +True a little over a quarter of an hour was lost, but the locking ring +had rusted in its thread, as sometimes happens, and it was heavy work +for a girl to shift it unaided. She had forbidden Barraclough to help +and had made him picket a hundred yards down the road in case the +pursuers should come up unexpectedly. + +After that all had gone well--except for a plug sooting on number three +cylinder and a halt for petrol about fifty miles outside London. A +full moon had risen with sundown which lit the countryside brightly, +and made the run almost as easy as by day. + +Only once did Barraclough see the pursuing Ford, two spots of light +visible from the top of the rise threading through the valley five +miles to the rear. Of course, it might have been any other car, but a +kind of second sense convinced him that this was not the case. He did +not confide to Flora what he had seen, but the tapping of his foot on +the floor-board gave her the information as surely as any spoken word. + +She startled him not a little by rapping out the enquiry: + +"How much lead have we got." + +"Five miles." + +"We shall do it. They won't average more than twenty-eight and we're +good for that. Where are we now?" + +"Hogs-back." + +"What's time?" + +"'Bout ten to eleven." + +"Hm! Think they'll shove any obstacles in the way?" + +"Depends," said Anthony. "If they sent a message through it's pretty +certain we may run into a hold up." + +"Going to chance it?" + +"No. We'll slip off the main road at Cobham and trickle in through the +byes." + +"Right oh! tell me when." + +For some miles they drove in silence and once again between Ripley and +Guildford had a glimpse of the following lights. With a considerable +shock Barraclough realised that the distance separating the two cars +had greatly diminished. But hereabouts an unexpected piece of luck +favoured them. At a point where the road narrowed between hedges a +farm gate was thrown open and a flock of sheep was driven out into the +highway. Flora contrived to dash past before the leaders of the flock +came through the gate. Another second and she would have been too +late. Glancing back Anthony observed that the entire road was solid +with sheep, a compact mass that moved neither forward nor backward. + +"Our friends'll lose five minutes penetrating that," he announced +gleefully. + +It did not occur to him until later that every one of those woolly ewes +was an unknowing servant of Hugo van Diest and that their presence in +the road was the direct result of a wire dispatched to a quiet little +man named Phillips who had been given the task of making the way into +London difficult. Mr. Phillips had not had very much time, but he had +done his best. A series of telegraph poles had been cut down outside +Staines, Slough, and at various points along the Portsmouth road. A +huge furniture van with its wheels off obstructed the narrows at +Brentford, and in one or two places wires had been drawn across the +King's highway. + +It was the side turning at Cobham saved them running into one of these +obstacles by a narrow margin of scarcely a hundred yards. Also it was +the side turning, bumpy narrow and twisted that proved their undoing. + +An upward climb, a perilously fast descent, a corner taken a trifle too +fine, a sharp flint, a burst front tyre, and at a point where two roads +crossed the veteran car almost somersaulted into a ditch, wrecked +beyond hope of repair. They were doing forty when it happened and it +was a miracle they escaped with their lives. + +Flora was first to scramble over the tilted side and survey the ruins +of their hopes. Anthony still wrapped in his mother's cloak followed +and shook his head over the extent of the damage. + +"You hurt?" he asked. + +"No. Are you?" + +"I'm all right. What happened?" + +"Front tyre. Wheel fairly kicked out of my hand." + +"It's damn bad luck," said Anthony. + +"Brutal." She bent over and switched off her lights. "What are we +going to do?" + +He looked at a sign-post, knocked crooked by the car when it plunged +off the metal into the ditch. + +"This road leads from Oxshott--London that way. With any luck we might +get a lift." + +"Late for anything to be about." She looked back along the way they +had come. The road could be seen threading its way among pines for a +couple of miles or more. "We shall know they're coming five minutes +before they can get here. Still I suppose you won't wait for them." + +"No fear. Couldn't put up much of a fight with this hand." + +"Pigs," said Flora. "I'd like to kill them." + +"Both sides are pretty lethal. Wouldn't fancy my chances if----" + +"You think they'd----" + +"Course they would. Why in blazes doesn't something roll up? Bet your +life if they can't get the concession for themselves they'll take +precious good care no one else shall profit by it." He paced up and +down looking this way and that. "It was like my infernal conceit +bringing the thing through myself. Anyone but an idiot would have +registered it from Cherbourg. Almost wish we'd stuck to the main road. +There'd have been some traffic there. Damn all motorists who're in bed +tonight." + +Very faintly through the thin night air came the throb of an engine. + +Flora clutched his arm. + +"D'you hear?" + +"They're coming." + +"That's no Ford," she said. "It's coming from over there." And she +pointed toward Oxshott. + +"You're right," said Anthony. "Got your gun--give it to me." + +"What for?" + +"Because that car is going to stop whether it wants to or not." + +Flora clapped her hands ecstatically. + +"Oh, let me hold 'em up," she pleaded. + +"No fear. You've risked enough already. Run round the bend and meet +'em. If they won't pull up for you they will for me." + +He took the pistol from Flora and planted himself squarely in the +middle of the road. + +"Off you go." And she went. + +Through the darkness ahead came patterns of light making black lace of +the twigs and branches. He heard Flora cry "Stop--stop," and the +squawk of a Claxon horn. But still the car came on. It swung round +the curve and made directly for him, flooding him in light from the +heads. + +It wanted some nerve to stand there, but nerve was a quality possessed +by Anthony Barraclough. He never moved an inch and in his left hand +held the pistol levelled at the approaching car. + +"I'll fire," he cried. + +He saw the driver snatch at his brakes, the steel studs tore up the +surface of the road as the car, a small two-seater, came to a +standstill within a foot of where he stood. + +Then happened an amazing thing. A woman sprang out and ran toward him +crying: + +"Anthony--you!" + +His eyes were dazzled by the head lights, but his memory for voices was +not dulled. He leapt back a clear five feet and presented the pistol +full in her face. + +"I know you," he said. "You're Auriole Craven. But if you or any of +that damn crowd try to stop me----" + +"No, no, no," she cried. "I'm with you--not against. What on earth +are you doing here?" + +"Doing? I'd almost done it. Smashed up in the final sprint. I want a +seat in your car. Must get to London tonight." + +"To London. No. It wouldn't be safe--it wouldn't be fair." + +"Fair! You don't understand--don't realise--there are millions of +pounds at stake." + +"I don't care if there are hundreds of millions," she retorted. "The +car is only a two-seater and slow at that. There are two of us already +and----" + +He interrupted her impatiently, with an order to chuck out her +passenger--minor considerations had no weight with him--everything, +everybody must be sacrificed to the need of the moment. + +"Minor considerations?" said Auriole bitterly. "You speak as if you'd +carried the game alone, as far as it has gone. But it was my +passenger--the man you want to chuck out--who made it possible. The +man who was tortured while you were free to----" + +She did not finish the sentence for even as she spoke Richard Frencham +Altar stepped shakily from the car and came toward them. The +extraordinary resemblance between the two men wrung a cry of amazement +from Flora. + +"Barraclough?" said Richard rocking on his heels. "Pretty +extraordinary meeting like this on the finishing straight. How goes?" + +"Good God, man!" said Anthony. "They put you through it." + +"That's all right," said Richard. "Never mind paying a price if you +win the game." + +"Get back into the car," Auriole pleaded. "You'll be caught again." + +But he put her aside. + +"Wait a bit--wait a bit. Looks as if my job isn't finished yet. +What's the trouble here?" and he nodded at the wrecked car. + +It was Flora who poured out the story of the chase and ultimate smash +and at the very moment of explanation the lights of Harrison Smith's +Ford flashed for a moment upon the sky line to reappear a second later +creeping down the avenue of trees on the hillside. + +"Look, look," she cried. + +To Anthony Barraclough it was a novel experience to act on another +man's orders. In that instant of gathering danger Richard Frencham +Altar became captain of the situation. He literally flung Anthony into +the car and refused to listen to Auriole's protests. + +"We're players of a game, aren't we?" he said, "and we're going to play +it to a finish. I think, too, it 'ud do me good to have one clean +smack at 'em before I'm through." + +He hardly knew how it came about that he and Auriole kissed one +another--somehow they found time for that and as the car moved away she +leant out to say: + +"You dear brave wonderful Sportsman." + +Then he and Flora were alone in the road watching the red rear lamp +disappear into the night. + +"You've got some pluck," said Flora. As she helped him into the cloak +that Anthony had thrown aside. "Going to wait and hold 'em up?" + +"May as well. That little two seater would never have carried four. +Got a gun by any chance?" + +"No, he had mine. Didn't he give it to you?" + +"He did not, so that's that. You better make for those trees." + +"If you think I'm going to desert," began Flora stoutly. + +"You're going to obey orders, my dear. Go on--push off." + +There was a quality in his voice that compelled obedience. + +"Oh, I hate you," said Flora. "Please, please let me stay." + +But he was inexorable. + +"They'll be here in a minute. Go!" he ordered. + +And to hide her tears of rage and mortification Flora went. + +Richard glanced over her shoulder at the oncoming lights. + +"Pity about that pistol," he muttered. + +On the road at his feet lay a lady's hand-bag with silk cords. It was +part of the equipment furnished by Mrs. Barraclough. Richard stooped +and picked it up. There was a barrel of tar and a sand heap by the +sign board and it struck him that both might by useful. With all the +speed he could command he rolled the tar barrel up the road and left it +blocking the way. Then he returned to the sand heap and filled the +hand-bag very full and tightened the strings. It felt quite business +like as he spun it in the air. + +The noise of the oncoming Ford was now plainly detectable, but with it +was another sound, a sound that caused him to throw up his head and +listen. From the Oxshott road it came, the tump--tump--tump of a +single cylinder motor cycle engine. He knew that music very well, had +heard it a score of times during his three weeks' imprisonment. The +particular ring of the exhaust could not be mistaken. + +"That's Laurence's bike for a thousand pounds," he exclaimed and +quickly pulled the hood of the cloak over his head. + +To guess at the relative distances, the motor cycle should arrive half +a minute before the car and banking on the chance, Richard sat down on +the heap of sand and waited. + +It was Laurence right enough--in evening dress, and hatless, just as he +had sprung to the pursuit after at last they succeeded in breaking down +the door. + +He saw the wrecked motor and what was apparently an old woman huddled +at the roadside. He pulled up within a couple of yards and shouted at +her. + +"Hi! you Madam! seen a car with a man and a girl in it go by?" + +But he received no answer even when he shouted the question a second +time. The old lady seemed painfully deaf and employing the most +regrettable language, Oliver Laurence descended from his mount, leant +it against the fence and came nearer to yell his inquiry into her ear. +He did not have time to recover from his surprise, when the voice of +Richard Frencham Altar replied: "Yes, I have." The sand-bag descended +on the top of his head directed by a full arm swing. A dazzling +procession of stars floated before his eyes as though he were plunged +into the very heart of the milky-way--flashed and faded into velvet +black insensibility. + +From behind heralded by a beam of light and the squawk of a horn, came +a crash as the Ford Car hit the tar barrel end on. Its front axle went +back ten inches and the rear wheels rose upward. Two shadowy forms, +that were groundlings at another time, took wings and flew in a neat +parabola over the windscreen, striking the metal surface of the road +with a single thud. They made no effort to rise, but lay in awkward +sprawling attitudes as though in the midst of violent activity they had +fallen asleep. + +Richard Frencham Altar stood alone, blinking rather stupidly at the +havoc he had wrought. It was such a relief when Flora stole out of the +shadow of the trees and came toward him. + +"What a shemozzle, isn't it?" he said dazedly. "I think we'd better +get out of this, don't you?" + +He wheeled the motor cycle into the centre of the road and bade her +jump up behind. + +Folks who were returning home late that night were astonished to see a +hatless man with a white unshaved face tearing through the side streets +of the south-west district of London on a motor cycle with a pretty, +but very dishevelled maiden clinging on to the Flapper bracket and +deliriously shouting apparently for no better reason than joy of speed. + +An old gentleman who signed himself "Commonsense" wrote to the papers +about it next day and expressed his disgust in no measured terms. + + + + +CHAPTER 34. + +THE FINISHING STRAIGHT. + +"Gentlemen," said Mr. Torrington. "We have an important decision to +make. Barraclough is on his way home, presumably with the concession +in his pocket. Our opponents have made certain dispositions to prevent +his safe arrival--those dispositions they are prepared to remove in +consideration of a third interest." + +Cassis snorted violently. Actual propinquity with danger, the clash of +mind against mind had in a large measure restored his self-possession. + +"Preposterous," he ejaculated. + +Hilbert Torrington continued. + +"It rests with us to decide whether or no we will accept their terms or +take a chance." + +"Don't forget the chance is Barraclough," cried Cranbourne, then +swinging round on Hipps, he demanded: + +"What are the odds against him?" + +"Steep," was the laconical rejoinder. + +Cranbourne hesitated a bare second. + +"Accept their terms," said he. + +"In favour?" + +"Of course in favour." + +Nugent Cassis shook him by the sleeve. + +"I am heartily opposed to their acceptance. It is absurd to suppose +that Barraclough is unequal to the task we have set him." + +"Against?" queried Mr. Torrington. + +"Emphatically against." + +When it came to Almont's turn to vote his distress of mind was +pathetic. He stood alternatively on one leg and the other. He spoke +of "Jolly old public school traditions." He "doubted if the dear old +sportsman could endure the idea of being protected at such a cost." + +"No, damn it all," he concluded. "Why should we split the prize?" + +"We can't juggle with men's lives," urged Cranbourne. + +"It's insanity to wilt at the last moment," said Cassis. + +Up went Lord Almont's hand. + +"I vote against," he said. + +Rather piteously Cranbourne appealed to his chief. As Chairman of the +board Hilbert Torrington's vote counted as two. + +"It rests with you, sir," he said. + +The old man nodded and a queer smile played round the corners of his +mouth--the smile of a pranky schoolboy. + +"But surely," he said. "No one will doubt the course I shall take. +One must always stand by one's colours. I accept the hazard Against." +He moved a pace or two forward and bowed to Van Diest. "Good-evening, +Gentlemen." + +Until this moment no one had been conscious of Isabel's presence in the +room. She had been a silent agonised spectator, controlled by the +belief that the value of persons would eventually be proved higher than +the value of things. But the cold blooded refusal to protect her lover +at the price of a few paltry millions, appalled her beyond bearing. +She ceased to be a pretty child with a shock of curly hair and was +transformed into a veritable fury. + +"You beasts, you brutes, you torturers!" she cried. "You'd let them +kill him without lifting a hand--you--you, ohh!" + +Van Diest and the American moved toward the door, but she barred the +way. + +"Pick up that telephone. You shall have your price." + +"I can't think you command it," said Hipps. + +"Can't you? Then listen. If you stop them--call off the men that are +after him, you shall be told the map reference of the place where he +found the radium." + +There was a startled murmur from the company. + +"He may have failed to get the concession. If that were so you'd have +an equal chance. Will you call them off if I give you that?" + +"But you can't, my dear," said Torrington gently. + +"And even if you could, you mustn't," snapped Cassis. + +"Mustn't!" There was something magnificent in her scorn. "Why I'd +wreck the whole crowd of you for one sight of him. Here you----" and +she swung round on Ezra Hipps. "Write this down." + +"Bluff," said he. + +"D'you think I'd let the man I love carry a secret I didn't share? +Write this down." + +It was Van Diest who stepped forward with "I take her word. Go on." + +"Brewster's Series 19," cried Isabel. "Map 24." + +Instantly a condition of chaos ruled. Cassis cried to her to stop "for +Heaven's sake." Someone else exclaimed "That European." "It covers +the northern area of----" and "Go on. Go on." Hipps was shouting. To +concentrate in the midst of such a din was almost impossible. She +covered her cars, closed her eyes, to force memory of the words and the +numerals that were to follow. "Square F. North 27. West 33." + +"She's there," cried Hipps, and whipped out a pistol to cover Cassis +who was making for the telephone. + +"No you don't. Stand away." He picked up the instrument and gave a +number. "That Phillips? Clear all roads." + +It was all that Isabel wanted to hear, just those three words which +meant one man's safety at the possible price of a mighty fortune. It +meant nothing to her that the American was calling for "My man with a +suitcase at Charing Cross straight away. I hit this trail myself." +She was not even conscious of a medley of voices in the street below--a +series of cries and shouts--the blast of a police whistle. All this +was without meaning. Consciousness was slipping away and had almost +deserted her when the door was flung open and Anthony Barraclough burst +into the room. He stood an instant, chest out and with eyes feverishly +bright. + +"Sorry I'm late, gentlemen, but I've done the trick--this packet----" +he rocked a little. "By Gad, I believe I'm going to faint." He +tottered forward into Isabel's arms and said--"It's you--how ripping!" +That was all. + +Cassis pushed forward with the words: + +"Has he got it--has he got it?" + +"This is what you want, I suppose," said Isabel, and taking the letter +case from his pocket, threw it on the table. "He's fainted. Help me +get him to his bed." + +Doran and she half carried and half dragged him from the room. + +No one was aware of Auriole, who had entered just behind and stood now +with her back to the wall, biting her lip. After all, when a game is +won, pawns are relatively of little importance--except to themselves. + +"Signed? Registered?" said Van Diest, edging forward. + +Nugent Cassis held the crackling document before his eyes--a Concession +to Millions--and he answered between his teeth: + +"Signed and registered." + +"So," said Van Diest, with unexpected control, "we lose--Finish." But +his hands trembled as he turned away. + +Ezra P. Hipps did not desert his post at the telephone until he heard +those words. Then he snapped viciously, + +"Say, cancel those orders, Phillips--Wash out the lot." + +It was too ridiculous at such a moment to contemplate the price of +victory, but that is precisely what Auriole did. + +"And you've never asked--never given a thought to the real man--the man +who made it possible--who stayed out there on the road while----" She +bit back her tears and turned savagely on Hipps and Van Diest. "Oh, +God," she cried, "if anything has happened to him." + +But nothing had--if you discount a little discomfort bravely borne. He +walked into the room even as she spoke. Dirty he was, dishevelled and +hollow-eyed, a very travesty of his former self. But there was a +spring in his bearing that fires of adversity had failed to rob of its +temper. He entered with a swing, a certain jauntiness--a dash of +_nonchaloir_--pushing his way through the group of astonished +financiers in the doorway and marching up to Van Diest and the American +with a very fine air of "you be damned" about the carriage of his head. + +"Get out," he said, uncompromisingly. "And tomorrow morning I'm coming +down to Charing Cross to see you off by the Continental." + +They both addressed him simultaneously and in very different tones to +the ones he had grown accustomed to during the past three weeks. The +word "cheque" figured largely in their proposals. Richard Frencham +Altar cut them short with: + +"Cheque from you? No, thanks. I'll take the smallest coin in each of +your countries to wear on my watch chain. It'll remind me of my +dealings with two millionaires. That train goes at ten tomorrow +morning." + +Ezra P. Hipps happened to see the light in Auriole's eyes as he and Van +Diest moved toward the door. It was quite unmistakable and from his +point of view, conclusive. He said nothing, however, and they passed +out in silence. + +It is probable that Hilbert Torrington also read a meaning in the +girl's eyes for he was very active in marshalling his forces for +departure. + +"I think, gentlemen," he said, "we might meet tomorrow to discuss our +obligation to Mr. Frencham Altar--an obligation by no means covered by +the small arrangement we made with him." He grasped Richard warmly by +the hand and there was moisture at the corners of his eyes. "What a +splendid boy you are," he said. "Lord, but youth and adventure is a +wonderful partnership, with a dash of romance thrown in as a prize. +It's been a great game--hasn't it? A real tough fight. Great fun. +Good night." + +Even Cassis had something nice to say before they took their leave and +left the man and the girl together. + +Then Richard looked at Auriole and grinned, perhaps because her +expression was so desperately serious. + +"Couldn't you smile at a chap?" he asked. + +She wrapped her cloak around her. + +"You don't understand," she said. "Everything seems good to you at the +moment--even me." + +He shook his head whimsically. + +"Don't say me that piece," he begged. "It sounds horrid. Where are +you going?" + +"I don't belong here," she answered. + +"For that matter, neither do I, but I dare say I could extend my lease +for another half hour--even though it did expire at eleven o'clock." + +She came down and faced him. + +"Listen," she said. "I don't want to be a nuisance to you and I won't +be." + +"You will be if you keep going to that door." + +"I don't even know your name, but if you look at me like that, with +laughter in your eyes--if you play the fool at such a time as this--how +can I possibly keep my resolve." + +"What resolve?" + +"To go away and never come back." + +"Come here," said Richard Frencham Altar, "come here at once." + +"Oh, please," she pleaded. "Honestly, my dear, I'm not up to much and +I know you are going to think I am. Oh, what are you going to do?" + +This because his arms had gone round her and he had raised her chin to +the level of his own. + +"I'm going to start on the greatest adventure of all," he answered. + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Men of Affairs, by Roland Pertwee + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN OF AFFAIRS *** + +***** This file should be named 23757.txt or 23757.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/7/5/23757/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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