THE LAST EXPLOIT OF HARRY THE ACTOR
The one insignificant fact upon which turned the following incident inthe joint experiences of Mr Carlyle and Max Carrados was merely this:that having called upon his friend just at the moment when the privatedetective was on the point of leaving his office to go to the safedeposit in Lucas Street, Piccadilly, the blind amateur accompanied him,and for ten minutes amused himself by sitting quite quietly among thepalms in the centre of the circular hall while Mr Carlyle was occupiedwith his deed-box in one of the little compartments provided for thepurpose.
The Lucas Street depository was then (it has since been converted into apicture palace) generally accepted as being one of the strongest placesin London. The front of the building was constructed to represent agigantic safe door, and under the colloquial designation of "The Safe"the place had passed into a synonym for all that was secure andimpregnable. Half of the marketable securities in the west of Londonwere popularly reported to have seen the inside of its coffers at onetime or another, together with the same generous proportion of familyjewels. However exaggerated an estimate this might be, the substratum oftruth was solid and auriferous enough to dazzle the imagination. Whenordinary safes were being carried bodily away with impunity oringeniously fused open by the scientifically equipped cracksman, nervousbond-holders turned with relief to the attractions of an establishmentwhose modest claim was summed up in its telegraphic address:"Impregnable." To it went also the jewel-case between the lady's socialengagements, and when in due course "the family" journeyed north--orsouth, east or west--whenever, in short, the London house was closed,its capacious storerooms received the plate-chest as an establishedcustom. Not a few traders also--jewellers, financiers, dealers inpictures, antiques and costly bijouterie, for instance--constantly usedits facilities for any stock that they did not requite immediately tohand.
There was only one entrance to the place, an exaggerated keyhole, tocarry out the similitude of the safe-door alluded to. The ground floorwas occupied by the ordinary offices of the company; all thestrong-rooms and safes lay in the steel-cased basement. This was reachedboth by a lift and by a flight of steps. In either case the visitorfound before him a grille of massive proportions. Behind its bars stooda formidable commissionaire who never left his post, his sole duty beingto open and close the grille to arriving and departing clients. Beyondthis, a short passage led into the round central hall where Carrados waswaiting. From this part, other passages radiated off to the vaults andstrong-rooms, each one barred from the hall by a grille scarcely lessponderous than the first one. The doors of the various private rooms putat the disposal of the company's clients, and that of the manager'soffice, filled the wall-space between the radiating passages. Everythingwas very quiet, everything looked very bright, and everything seemedhopelessly impregnable.
"But I wonder?" ran Carrados's dubious reflection; as he reached thispoint.
"Sorry to have kept you so long, my dear Max," broke in Mr Carlyle'scrisp voice. He had emerged from his compartment and was crossing thehall, deed-box in hand. "Another minute and I will be with you."
Carrados smiled and nodded and resumed his former expression, which wasmerely that of an uninterested gentleman waiting patiently for another.It is something of an attainment to watch closely without betrayingundue curiosity, but others of the senses--hearing and smelling, forinstance--can be keenly engaged while the observer possibly has theappearance of falling asleep.
"Now," announced Mr Carlyle, returning briskly to his friend's chair,and drawing on his grey suede gloves.
"You are in no particular hurry?"
"No," admitted the professional man, with the slowness of mild surprise."Not at all. What do you propose?"
"It is very pleasant here," replied Carrados tranquilly. "Very cool andrestful with this armoured steel between us and the dust and scurry ofthe hot July afternoon above. I propose remaining here for a fewminutes longer."
"Certainly," agreed Mr Carlyle, taking the nearest chair and eyeingCarrados as though he had a shrewd suspicion of something more than metthe ear. "I believe some very interesting people rent safes here. We mayencounter a bishop, or a winning jockey, or even a musical comedyactress. Unfortunately it seems to be rather a slack time."
"Two men came down while you were in your cubicle," remarked Carradoscasually. "The first took the lift. I imagine that he was a middle-aged,rather portly man. He carried a stick, wore a silk hat, and usedspectacles for close sight. The other came by the stairway. I infer thathe arrived at the top immediately after the lift had gone. He ran downthe steps, so that the two were admitted at the same time, but thesecond man, though the more active of the pair, hung back for a momentin the passage and the portly one was the first to go to his safe."
Mr Carlyle's knowing look expressed: "Go on, my friend; you are comingto something." But he merely contributed an encouraging "Yes?"
"When you emerged just now our second man quietly opened the door of hispen a fraction. Doubtless he looked out. Then he closed it as quietlyagain. You were not his man, Louis."
"I am grateful," said Mr Carlyle expressively. "What next, Louis?"
"That is all; they are still closeted."
Both were silent for a moment. Mr Carlyle's feeling was one ofunconfessed perplexity. So far the incident was utterly trivial in hiseyes; but he knew that the trifles which appeared significant to Max hada way of standing out like signposts when the time came to look backover an episode. Carrados's sightless faculties seemed indeed to keephim just a move ahead as the game progressed.
"Is there really anything in it, Max?" he asked at length.
"Who can say?" replied Carrados. "At least we may wait to see them go.Those tin deed-boxes now. There is one to each safe, I think?"
"Yes, so I imagine. The practice is to carry the box to your privatelair and there unlock it and do your business. Then you lock it up againand take it back to your safe."
"Steady! our first man," whispered Carrados hurriedly. "Here, look atthis with me." He opened a paper--a prospectus--which he pulled from hispocket, and they affected to study its contents together.
"You were about right, my friend," muttered Mr Carlyle, pointing to aparagraph of assumed interest. "Hat, stick and spectacles. He is aclean-shaven, pink-faced old boy. I believe--yes, I know the man bysight. He is a bookmaker in a large way, I am told."
"Here comes the other," whispered Carrados.
The bookmaker passed across the hall, joined on his way by the managerwhose duty it was to counterlock the safe, and disappeared along one ofthe passages. The second man sauntered up and down, waiting his turn. MrCarlyle reported his movements in an undertone and described him. He wasa younger man than the other, of medium height, and passably welldressed in a quiet lounge suit, green Alpine hat and brown shoes. By thetime the detective had reached his wavy chestnut hair, large and ratherragged moustache, and sandy, freckled complexion, the first man hadcompleted his business and was leaving the place.
"It isn't an exchange lay, at all events," said Mr Carlyle. "His innercase is only half the size of the other and couldn't possibly besubstituted."
"Come up now," said Carrados, rising. "There is nothing more to belearned down here."
They requisitioned the lift and on the steps outside the gigantickeyhole stood for a few minutes discussing an investment as a couple oftrustees or a lawyer and a client who were parting there might do. Fiftyyards away, a very large silk hat with a very curly brim marked theprogress of the bookmaker towards Piccadilly.
The lift in the hall behind them swirled up again and the gate clashed.The second man walked leisurely out and sauntered away without abackward glance.
"He has gone in the opposite direction," exclaimed Mr Carlyle, ratherblankly. "It isn't the 'lame goat' nor the 'follow-me-on,' nor even thehomely but efficacious sand-bag."
"What colour were his eyes?" asked Carrados.
"Upon my word, I never noticed," admitted the other.
"Parki
nson would have noticed," was the severe comment.
"I am not Parkinson," retorted Mr Carlyle, with asperity, "and, strictlyas one dear friend to another, Max, permit me to add, that whilecherishing an unbounded admiration for your remarkable gifts, I have thestrongest suspicion that the whole incident is a ridiculous mare's nest,bred in the fantastic imagination of an enthusiastic criminologist."
Mr Carrados received this outburst with the utmost benignity. "Come andhave a coffee, Louis," he suggested. "Mehmed's is only a street away."
Mehmed proved to be a cosmopolitan gentleman from Mocha whose shopresembled a house from the outside and an Oriental divan when one waswithin. A turbaned Arab placed cigarettes and cups of coffee spiced withsaffron before the customers, gave salaam and withdrew.
"You know, my dear chap," continued Mr Carlyle, sipping his black coffeeand wondering privately whether it was really very good or very bad,"speaking quite seriously, the one fishy detail--our ginger friend'swatching for the other to leave--may be open to a dozen very innocentexplanations."
"So innocent that to-morrow I intend taking a safe myself."
"You think that everything is all right?"
"On the contrary, I am convinced that something is very wrong."
"Then why----?"
"I shall keep nothing there, but it will give me the _entree_. I shouldadvise you, Louis, in the first place to empty your safe with allpossible speed, and in the second to leave your business card on themanager."
Mr Carlyle pushed his cup away, convinced now that the coffee was reallyvery bad.
"But, my dear Max, the place--'The Safe'--is impregnable!"
"When I was in the States, three years ago, the head porter at one hoteltook pains to impress on me that the building was absolutely fireproof.I at once had my things taken off to another hotel. Two weeks later thefirst place was burnt out. It _was_ fireproof, I believe, but of coursethe furniture and the fittings were not and the walls gave way."
"Very ingenious," admitted Mr Carlyle, "but why did you really go? Youknow you can't humbug me with your superhuman sixth sense, my friend."
Carrados smiled pleasantly, thereby encouraging the watchful attendantto draw near and replenish their tiny cups.
"Perhaps," replied the blind man, "because so many careless people weresatisfied that it was fireproof."
"Ah-ha, there you are--the greater the confidence the greater the risk.But only if your self-confidence results in carelessness. Now do youknow how this place is secured, Max?"
"I am told that they lock the door at night," replied Carrados, withbland malice.
"And hide the key under the mat to be ready for the first arrival in themorning," crowed Mr Carlyle, in the same playful spirit. "Dear old chap!Well, let me tell you----"
"That force is out of the question. Quite so," admitted his friend.
"That simplifies the argument. Let us consider fraud. There again theprecautions are so rigid that many people pronounce the forms anuisance. I confess that I do not. I regard them as a means ofprotecting my own property and I cheerfully sign my name and give mypassword, which the manager compares with his record-book before hereleases the first lock of my safe. The signature is burned before myeyes in a sort of crucible there, the password is of my own choosing andis written only in a book that no one but the manager ever sees, and mykey is the sole one in existence."
"No duplicate or master-key?"
"Neither. If a key is lost it takes a skilful mechanic half-a-day to cuthis way in. Then you must remember that clients of a safe-deposit arenot multitudinous. All are known more or less by sight to the officialsthere, and a stranger would receive close attention. Now, Max, by whatcombination of circumstances is a rogue to know my password, to be ableto forge my signature, to possess himself of my key, and to resemble mepersonally? And, finally, how is he possibly to determine beforehandwhether there is anything in my safe to repay so elaborate a plant?" MrCarlyle concluded in triumph and was so carried away by the strength ofhis position that he drank off the contents of his second cup before herealized what he was doing.
"At the hotel I just spoke of," replied Carrados, "there was anattendant whose one duty in case of alarm was to secure three irondoors. On the night of the fire he had a bad attack of toothache andslipped away for just a quarter of an hour to have the thing out. Therewas a most up-to-date system of automatic fire alarm; it had been testedonly the day before and the electrician, finding some part notabsolutely to his satisfaction, had taken it away and not had time toreplace it. The night watchman, it turned out, had received leave topresent himself a couple of hours later on that particular night, andthe hotel fireman, whose duties he took over, had missed being notified.Lastly, there was a big riverside blaze at the same time and all theengines were down at the other end of the city."
Mr Carlyle committed himself to a dubious monosyllable. Carrados leanedforward a little.
"All these circumstances formed a coincidence of pure chance. Is it notconceivable, Louis, that an even more remarkable series might bebrought about by design?"
"Our tawny friend?"
"Possibly. Only he was not really tawny." Mr Carlyle's easy attitudesuddenly stiffened into rigid attention. "He wore a false moustache."
"He wore a false moustache!" repeated the amazed gentleman. "And youcannot see! No, really, Max, this is beyond the limit!"
"If only you would not trust your dear, blundering old eyes soimplicitly you would get nearer that limit yourself," retorted Carrados."The man carried a five-yard aura of spirit gum, emphasized by a warm,perspiring skin. That inevitably suggested one thing. I looked forfurther evidence of making-up and found it--these preparations allsmell. The hair you described was characteristically that of a wig--wornlong to hide the joining and made wavy to minimize the length. All thesethings are trifles. As yet we have not gone beyond the initial stage ofsuspicion. I will tell you another trifle. When this man retired to acompartment with his deed-box, he never even opened it. Possibly itcontains a brick and a newspaper. He is only watching."
"Watching the bookmaker."
"True, but it may go far wider than that. Everything points to a plot ofcareful elaboration. Still, if you are satisfied----"
"I am quite satisfied," replied Mr Carlyle gallantly. "I regard 'TheSafe' almost as a national institution, and as such I have an implicitfaith in its precautions against every kind of force or fraud." So farMr Carlyle's attitude had been suggestive of a rock, but at this pointhe took out his watch, hummed a little to pass the time, consulted hiswatch again, and continued: "I am afraid that there were one or twopapers which I overlooked. It would perhaps save me coming againto-morrow if I went back now----"
"Quite so," acquiesced Carrados, with perfect gravity. "I will wait foryou."
For twenty minutes he sat there, drinking an occasional tiny cup ofboiled coffee and to all appearance placidly enjoying the quaintatmosphere which Mr Mehmed had contrived to transplant from the shore ofthe Persian Gulf.
At the end of that period Carlyle returned, politely effusive about thetime he had kept his friend waiting but otherwise bland andunassailable. Anyone with eyes might have noticed that he carried aparcel of about the same size and dimensions as the deed-box that fittedhis safe.
The next day Carrados presented himself at the safe-deposit as anintending renter. The manager showed him over the vaults andstrong-rooms, explaining the various precautions taken to render theguile or force of man impotent: the strength of the chilled-steel walls,the casing of electricity-resisting concrete, the stupendous isolationof the whole inner fabric on metal pillars so that the watchman, whileinside the building, could walk above, below, and all round the outerwalls of what was really--although it bore no actual relationship to theadvertising device of the front--a monstrous safe; and, finally, thearrangement which would enable the basement to be flooded with steamwithin three minutes of an alarm. These details were public property."The Safe" was a showplace and its directors held that no harm couldcom
e of displaying a strong hand.
Accompanied by the observant eyes of Parkinson, Carrados gave anadventurous but not a hopeful attention to these particulars. Submittingthe problem of the tawny man to his own ingenuity, he was constantlyputting before himself the question: How shall I set about robbing thisplace? and he had already dismissed force as impracticable. Nor, when itcame to the consideration of fraud, did the simple but effectivesafeguards which Mr Carlyle had specified seem to offer any loophole.
"As I am blind I may as well sign in the book," he suggested, when themanager passed to him a gummed slip for the purpose. The precautionagainst one acquiring particulars of another client might well be deemedsuperfluous in his case.
But the manager did not fall into the trap.
"It is our invariable rule in all cases, sir," he replied courteously."What word will you take?" Parkinson, it may be said, had been left inthe hall.
"Suppose I happen to forget it? How do we proceed?"
"In that case I am afraid that I might have to trouble you to establishyour identity," the manager explained. "It rarely happens."
"Then we will say 'Conspiracy.'"
The word was written down and the book closed.
"Here is your key, sir. If you will allow me--your key-ring----"
A week went by and Carrados was no nearer the absolute solution of theproblem he had set himself. He had, indeed, evolved several ways bywhich the contents of the safes might be reached, some simple anddesperate, hanging on the razor-edge of chance to fall this way or that;others more elaborate, safer on the whole, but more liable to break downat some point of their ingenious intricacy. And setting aside complicityon the part of the manager--a condition that Carrados had satisfiedhimself did not exist--they all depended on a relaxation of the forms bywhich security was assured. Carrados continued to have several occasionsto visit the safe during the week, and he "watched" with a quietpersistence that was deadly in its scope. But from beginning to endthere was no indication of slackness in the business-like methods of theplace; nor during any of his visits did the "tawny man" appear in thator any other disguise. Another week passed; Mr Carlyle was becominginexpressibly waggish, and Carrados himself, although he did not abate ajot of his conviction, was compelled to bend to the realities of thesituation. The manager, with the obstinacy of a conscientious man whohad become obsessed with the pervading note of security, excused himselffrom discussing abstract methods of fraud. Carrados was not in aposition to formulate a detailed charge; he withdrew from activeinvestigation, content to await his time.
It came, to be precise, on a certain Friday morning, seventeen daysafter his first visit to "The Safe." Returning late on the Thursdaynight, he was informed that a man giving the name of Draycott had calledto see him. Apparently the matter had been of some importance to thevisitor for he had returned three hours later on the chance of findingMr Carrados in. Disappointed in this, he had left a note. Carrados cutopen the envelope and ran a finger along the following words:--
"DEAR SIR,--I have to-day consulted Mr Louis Carlyle, who thinks that you would like to see me. I will call again in the morning, say at nine o'clock. If this is too soon or otherwise inconvenient I entreat you to leave a message fixing as early an hour as possible. Yours faithfully, HERBERT DRAYCOTT."
"_P.S._--I should add that I am the renter of a safe at the Lucas Street depository. H. D."
A description of Mr Draycott made it clear that he was not the West-Endbookmaker. The caller, the servant explained, was a thin, wiry,keen-faced man. Carrados felt agreeably interested in this development,which seemed to justify his suspicion of a plot.
At five minutes to nine the next morning Mr Draycott again presentedhimself.
"Very good of you to see me so soon, sir," he apologized, on Carrados atonce receiving him. "I don't know much of English ways--I'm anAustralian--and I was afraid it might be too early."
"You could have made it a couple of hours earlier as far as I amconcerned," replied Carrados. "Or you either for that matter, Iimagine," he added, "for I don't think that you slept much last night."
"I didn't sleep at all last night," corrected Mr Draycott. "But it'sstrange that you should have seen that. I understood from Mr Carlylethat you--excuse me if I am mistaken, sir--but I understood that youwere blind."
Carrados laughed his admission lightly.
"Oh yes," he said. "But never mind that. What is the trouble?"
"I'm afraid it means more than just trouble for me, Mr Carrados." Theman had steady, half-closed eyes, with the suggestion of depth which onenotices in the eyes of those whose business it is to look out over greatexpanses of land or water; they were turned towards Carrados's face withquiet resignation in their frankness now. "I'm afraid it spellsdisaster. I am a working engineer from the Mount Magdalena district ofCoolgardie. I don't want to take up your time with outside details so Iwill only say that about two years ago I had an opportunity of acquiringa share in a very promising claim--gold, you understand, both reef andalluvial. As the work went on I put more and more into theundertaking--you couldn't call it a venture by that time. The resultswere good, better than we had dared to expect, but from one cause andanother the expenses were terrible. We saw that it was a bigger thingthan we had bargained for and we admitted that we must get outsidehelp."
So far Mr Draycott's narrative had proceeded smoothly enough under theinfluence of the quiet despair that had come over the man. But at thispoint a sudden recollection of his position swept him into a frenzy ofbitterness.
"Oh, what the blazes is the good of going over all this again!" he brokeout. "What can you or anyone else do anyhow? I've been robbed, rooked,cleared out of everything I possess," and tormented by recollections andby the impotence of his rage the unfortunate engineer beat the oak tablewith the back of his hand until his knuckles bled.
Carrados waited until the fury had passed.
"Continue, if you please, Mr Draycott," he said. "Just what you thoughtit best to tell me is just what I want to know."
"I'm sorry, sir," apologized the man, colouring under his tanned skin."I ought to be able to control myself better. But this business hasshaken me. Three times last night I looked down the barrel of myrevolver, and three times I threw it away.... Well, we arranged that Ishould come to London to interest some financiers in the property. Wemight have done it locally or in Perth, to be sure, but then, don't yousee, they would have wanted to get control. Six weeks ago I landed here.I brought with me specimens of the quartz and good samples of extractedgold, dust and nuggets, the clearing up of several weeks' working, abouttwo hundred and forty ounces in all. That includes the MagdalenaLodestar, our lucky nugget, a lump weighing just under seven pounds ofpure gold.
"I had seen an advertisement of this Lucas Street safe-deposit and itseemed just the thing I wanted. Besides the gold, I had all the papersto do with the claims--plans, reports, receipts, licences and so on.Then when I cashed my letter of credit I had about one hundred and fiftypounds in notes. Of course I could have left everything at a bank but itwas more convenient to have it, as it were, in my own safe, to get atany time, and to have a private room that I could take any gentlemen to.I hadn't a suspicion that anything could be wrong. Negotiations hung onin several quarters--it's a bad time to do business here, I find. Then,yesterday, I wanted something. I went to Lucas Street, as I had donehalf-a-dozen times before, opened my safe, and had the inner casecarried to a room.... Mr Carrados, it was empty!"
"Quite empty?"
"No." He laughed bitterly. "At the bottom was a sheet of wrapper paper.I recognized it as a piece I had left there in case I wanted to make upa parcel. But for that I should have been convinced that I had somehowopened the wrong safe. That was my first idea."
"It cannot be done."
"So I understand, sir. And, then, there was the paper with my namewritten on it in the empty tin. I was dazed; it seemed impossible. Ithink I stood there without mo
ving for minutes--it was more like hours.Then I closed the tin box again, took it back, locked up the safe andcame out."
"Without notifying anything wrong?"
"Yes, Mr Carrados." The steady blue eyes regarded him with painedthoughtfulness. "You see, I reckoned it out in that time that it must besomeone about the place who had done it."
"You were wrong," said Carrados.
"So Mr Carlyle seemed to think. I only knew that the key had never beenout of my possession and I had told no one of the password. Well, it didcome over me rather like cold water down the neck, that there was Ialone in the strongest dungeon in London and not a living soul knewwhere I was."
"Possibly a sort of up-to-date Sweeney Todd's?"
"I'd heard of such things in London," admitted Draycott. "Anyway, I gotout. It was a mistake; I see it now. Who is to believe me as it is--itsounds a sort of unlikely tale. And how do they come to pick on me? toknow what I had? I don't drink, or open my mouth, or hell round. Itbeats me."
"They didn't pick on you--you picked on them," replied Carrados. "Nevermind how; you'll be believed all right. But as for getting anythingback----" The unfinished sentence confirmed Mr Draycott in his gloomiestanticipations.
"I have the numbers of the notes," he suggested, with an attempt athopefulness. "They can be stopped, I take it?"
"Stopped? Yes," admitted Carrados. "And what does that amount to? Thebanks and the police stations will be notified and every littlepublic-house between here and Land's End will change one for thescribbling of 'John Jones' across the back. No, Mr Draycott, it'sawkward, I dare say, but you must make up your mind to wait until youcan get fresh supplies from home. Where are you staying?"
Draycott hesitated.
"I have been at the Abbotsford, in Bloomsbury, up to now," he said, withsome embarrassment. "The fact is, Mr Carrados, I think I ought to havetold you how I was placed before consulting you, because I--I see noprospect of being able to pay my way. Knowing that I had plenty in thesafe, I had run it rather close. I went chiefly yesterday to get somenotes. I have a week's hotel bill in my pocket, and"--he glanced downat his trousers--"I've ordered one or two other things unfortunately."
"That will be a matter of time, doubtless," suggested the otherencouragingly.
Instead of replying Draycott suddenly dropped his arms on to the tableand buried his face between them. A minute passed in silence.
"It's no good, Mr Carrados," he said, when he was able to speak; "Ican't meet it. Say what you like, I simply can't tell those chaps thatI've lost everything we had and ask them to send me more. They couldn'tdo it if I did. Understand, sir. The mine is a valuable one; we have thegreatest faith in it, but it has gone beyond our depth. The three of ushave put everything we own into it. While I am here they are doinglabourers' work for a wage, just to keep going ... waiting, oh, my God!waiting for good news from me!"
Carrados walked round the table to his desk and wrote. Then, without aword, he held out a paper to his visitor.
"What's this?" demanded Draycott, in bewilderment. "It's--it's a chequefor a hundred pounds."
"It will carry you on," explained Carrados imperturbably. "A man likeyou isn't going to throw up the sponge for this set-back. Cable to yourpartners that you require copies of all the papers at once. They'llmanage it, never fear. The gold ... must go. Write fully by the nextmail. Tell them everything and add that in spite of all you feel thatyou are nearer success than ever."
Mr Draycott folded the cheque with thoughtful deliberation and put itcarefully away in his pocket-book.
"I don't know whether you've guessed as much, sir," he said in a queervoice, "but I think that you've saved a man's life to-day. It's not themoney, it's the encouragement ... and faith. If you could see you'd knowbetter than I can say how I feel about it."
Carrados laughed quietly. It always amused him to have people explainhow much more he would learn if he had eyes.
"Then we'll go on to Lucas Street and give the manager the shock of hislife," was all he said. "Come, Mr Draycott, I have already rung up thecar."
But, as it happened, another instrument had been destined to apply thatstimulating experience to the manager. As they stepped out of the caropposite "The Safe" a taxicab drew up and Mr Carlyle's alert and cheeryvoice hailed them.
"A moment, Max," he called, turning to settle with his driver, atransaction that he invested with an air of dignified urbanity whichalmost made up for any small pecuniary disappointment that may haveaccompanied it. "This is indeed fortunate. Let us compare notes for amoment. I have just received an almost imploring message from themanager to come at once. I assumed that it was the affair of ourcolonial friend here, but he went on to mention Professor HolmfastBulge. Can it really be possible that he also has made a similardiscovery?"
"What did the manager say?" asked Carrados.
"He was practically incoherent, but I really think it must be so. Whathave you done?"
"Nothing," replied Carrados. He turned his back on "The Safe" andappeared to be regarding the other side of the street. "There is atobacconist's shop directly opposite?"
"There is."
"What do they sell on the first floor?"
"Possibly they sell 'Rubbo.' I hazard the suggestion from the legend'Rub in Rubbo for Everything' which embellishes each window."
"The windows are frosted?"
"They are, to half-way up, mysterious man."
Carrados walked back to his motor car.
"While we are away, Parkinson, go across and buy a tin, bottle, box orpacket of 'Rubbo.'"
"What is 'Rubbo,' Max?" chirped Mr Carlyle with insatiable curiosity.
"So far we do not know. When Parkinson gets some, Louis, you shall bethe one to try it."
They descended into the basement and were passed in by thegrille-keeper, whose manner betrayed a discreet consciousness ofsomething in the air. It was unnecessary to speculate why. In thedistance, muffled by the armoured passages, an authoritative voiceboomed like a sonorous bell heard under water.
"What, however, are the facts?" it was demanding, with the causticity ofbaffled helplessness. "I am assured that there is no other key inexistence; yet my safe has been unlocked. I am given to understand thatwithout the password it would be impossible for an unauthorized personto tamper with my property. My password, deliberately chosen, is'anthropophaginian,' sir. Is it one that is familiarly on the lips ofthe criminal classes? But my safe is empty! What is the explanation? Whoare the guilty persons? What is being done? Where are the police?"
"If you consider that the proper course to adopt is to stand on thedoorstep and beckon in the first constable who happens to pass, permitme to say, sir, that I differ from you," retorted the distractedmanager. "You may rely on everything possible being done to clear up themystery. As I told you, I have already telephoned for a capable privatedetective and for one of my directors."
"But that is not enough," insisted the professor angrily. "Will one mereprivate detective restore my L6000 Japanese 4-1/2 per cent. bearerbonds? Is the return of my irreplaceable notes on 'Polyphyletic BridalCustoms among the mid-Pleistocene Cave Men' to depend on a solitarydirector? I demand that the police shall be called in--as many as areavailable. Let Scotland Yard be set in motion. A searching inquiry mustbe made. I have only been a user of your precious establishment for sixmonths, and this is the result."
"There you hold the key of the mystery, Professor Bulge," interposedCarrados quietly.
"Who is this, sir?" demanded the exasperated professor at large.
"Permit me," explained Mr Carlyle, with bland assurance. "I am LouisCarlyle, of Bampton Street. This gentleman is Mr Max Carrados, theeminent amateur specialist in crime."
"I shall be thankful for any assistance towards elucidating thisappalling business," condescended the professor sonorously. "Let me putyou in possession of the facts----"
"Perhaps if we went into your room," suggested Carrados to the manager,"we should be less liable to interruption."
"Qu
ite so; quite so," boomed the professor, accepting the proposal oneveryone else's behalf. "The facts, sir, are these: I am the unfortunatepossessor of a safe here, in which, a few months ago, I deposited--amongless important matter--sixty bearer bonds of the Japanese ImperialLoan--the bulk of my small fortune--and the manuscript of an importantprojected work on 'Polyphyletic Bridal Customs among the mid-PleistoceneCave Men.' To-day I came to detach the coupons which fall due on thefifteenth, to pay them into my bank a week in advance, in accordancewith my custom. What do I find? I find the safe locked and apparentlyintact, as when I last saw it a month ago. But it is far from beingintact, sir. It has been opened; ransacked, cleared out. Not a singlebond; not a scrap of paper remains."
It was obvious that the manager's temperature had been rising during thelatter part of this speech and now he boiled over.
"Pardon my flatly contradicting you, Professor Bulge. You have againreferred to your visit here a month ago as your last. You will bearwitness of that, gentlemen. When I inform you that the professor hadaccess to his safe as recently as on Monday last you will recognize theimportance that the statement may assume."
The professor glared across the room like an infuriated animal, acomparison heightened by his notoriously hircine appearance.
"How dare you contradict me, sir!" he cried, slapping the table sharplywith his open hand. "I was not here on Monday."
The manager shrugged his shoulders coldly.
"You forget that the attendants also saw you," he remarked. "Cannot wetrust our own eyes?"
"A common assumption, yet not always a strictly reliable one,"insinuated Carrados softly.
"I cannot be mistaken."
"Then can you tell me, without looking, what colour Professor Bulge'seyes are?"
There was a curious and expectant silence for a minute. The professorturned his back on the manager and the manager passed fromthoughtfulness to embarrassment.
"I really do not know, Mr Carrados," he declared loftily at last. "I donot refer to mere trifles like that."
"Then you can be mistaken," replied Carrados mildly yet with decision.
"But the ample hair, the venerable flowing beard, the prominent nose andheavy eyebrows----"
"These are just the striking points that are most easily counterfeited.They 'take the eye.' If you would ensure yourself against deception,learn rather to observe the eye itself, and particularly the spots onit, the shape of the fingernails, the set of the ears. These thingscannot be simulated."
"You seriously suggest that the man was not Professor Bulge--that he wasan impostor?"
"The conclusion is inevitable. Where were you on Monday, Professor?"
"I was on a short lecturing tour in the Midlands. On Saturday I was inNottingham. On Monday in Birmingham. I did not return to London untilyesterday."
Carrados turned to the manager again and indicated Draycott, who so farhad remained in the background.
"And this gentleman? Did he by any chance come here on Monday?"
"He did not, Mr Carrados. But I gave him access to his safe on Tuesdayafternoon and again yesterday."
Draycott shook his head sadly.
"Yesterday I found it empty," he said. "And all Tuesday afternoon I wasat Brighton, trying to see a gentleman on business."
The manager sat down very suddenly.
"Good God, another!" he exclaimed faintly.
"I am afraid the list is only beginning," said Carrados. "We must gothrough your renters' book."
The manager roused himself to protest.
"That cannot be done. No one but myself or my deputy ever sees the book.It would be--unprecedented."
"The circumstances are unprecedented," replied Carrados.
"If any difficulties are placed in the way of these gentlemen'sinvestigations, I shall make it my duty to bring the facts before theHome Secretary," announced the professor; speaking up to the ceilingwith the voice of a brazen trumpet.
Carrados raised a deprecating hand.
"May I make a suggestion?" he remarked. "Now; I am blind. If,therefore----?"
"Very well," acquiesced the manager. "But I must request the others towithdraw."
For five minutes Carrados followed the list of safe-renters as themanager read them to him. Sometimes he stopped the catalogue to reflecta moment; now and then he brushed a finger-tip over a written signatureand compared it with another. Occasionally a password interested him.But when the list came to an end he continued to look into space withoutany sign of enlightenment.
"So much is perfectly clear and yet so much is incredible," he mused."You insist that you alone have been in charge for the last six months?"
"I have not been away a day this year."
"Meals?"
"I have my lunch sent in."
"And this room could not be entered without your knowledge while youwere about the place?"
"It is impossible. The door is fitted with a powerful spring and afeather-touch self-acting lock. It cannot be left unlocked unless youdeliberately prop it open."
"And, with your knowledge, no one has had an opportunity of havingaccess to this book?"
"No," was the reply.
Carrados stood up and began to put on his gloves.
"Then I must decline to pursue my investigation any further," he saidicily.
"Why?" stammered the manager.
"Because I have positive reason for believing that you are deceivingme."
"Pray sit down, Mr Carrados. It is quite true that when you put the lastquestion to me a circumstance rushed into my mind which--so far as thestrict letter was concerned--might seem to demand 'Yes' instead of 'No.'But not in the spirit of your inquiry. It would be absurd to attach anyimportance to the incident I refer to."
"That would be for me to judge."
"You shall do so, Mr Carrados. I live at Windermere Mansions with mysister. A few months ago she got to know a married couple who hadrecently come to the opposite flat. The husband was a middle-aged,scholarly man who spent most of his time in the British Museum. Hiswife's tastes were different; she was much younger, brighter, gayer; amere girl in fact, one of the most charming and unaffected I have evermet. My sister Amelia does not readily----"
"Stop!" exclaimed Carrados. "A studious middle-aged man and a charmingyoung wife! Be as brief as possible. If there is any chance it may turnon a matter of minutes at the ports. She came here, of course?"
"Accompanied by her husband," replied the manager stiffly. "Mrs Scotthad travelled and she had a hobby of taking photographs wherever shewent. When my position accidentally came out one evening she was carriedaway by the novel idea of adding views of a safe-deposit to hercollection--as enthusiastic as a child. There was no reason why sheshould not; the place has often been taken for advertising purposes."
"She came, and brought her camera--under your very nose!"
"I do not know what you mean by 'under my very nose.' She came with herhusband one evening just about our closing time. She brought her camera,of course--quite a small affair."
"And contrived to be in here alone?"
"I take exception to the word 'contrived.' It--it happened. I sent outfor some tea, and in the course----"
"How long was she alone in here?"
"Two or three minutes at the most. When I returned she was seated at mydesk. That was what I referred to. The little rogue had put on myglasses and had got hold of a big book. We were great chums, and shedelighted to mock me. I confess that I was startled--merelyinstinctively--to see that she had taken up this book, but the nextmoment I saw that she had it upside down."
"Clever! She couldn't get it away in time. And the camera, withhalf-a-dozen of its specially sensitized films already snapped over thelast few pages, by her side!"
"That child!"
"Yes. She is twenty-seven and has kicked hats off tall men's heads inevery capital from Petersburg to Buenos Aires! Get through to ScotlandYard and ask if Inspector Beedel can come up."
The manager breathed heavily th
rough his nose.
"To call in the police and publish everything would ruin thisestablishment--confidence would be gone. I cannot do it without furtherauthority."
"Then the professor certainly will."
"Before you came I rang up the only director who is at present in townand gave him the facts as they then stood. Possibly he has arrived bythis. If you will accompany me to the boardroom we will see."
They went up to the floor above, Mr Carlyle joining them on the way.
"Excuse me a moment," said the manager.
Parkinson, who had been having an improving conversation with the hallporter on the subject of land values, approached.
"I am sorry, sir," he reported, "but I was unable to procure any'Rubbo.' The place appears to be shut up."
"That is a pity; Mr Carlyle had set his heart on it."
"Will you come this way, please?" said the manager, reappearing.
In the boardroom they found a white-haired old gentleman who had obeyedthe manager's behest from a sense of duty, and then remained in adistant corner of the empty room in the hope that he might beoverlooked. He was amiably helpless and appeared to be deeply aware ofit.
"This is a very sad business, gentlemen," he said, in a whispering,confiding voice. "I am informed that you recommend calling in theScotland Yard authorities. That would be a disastrous course for aninstitution that depends on the implicit confidence of the public."
"It is the only course," replied Carrados.
"The name of Mr Carrados is well known to us in connexion with adelicate case. Could you not carry this one through?"
"It is impossible. A wide inquiry must be made. Every port will have tobe watched. The police alone can do that." He threw a littlesignificance into the next sentence. "I alone can put the police in theright way of doing it."
"And you will do that, Mr Carrados?"
Carrados smiled engagingly. He knew exactly what constituted the greatattraction of his services.
"My position is this," he explained. "So far my work has been entirelyamateur. In that capacity I have averted one or two crimes, remedied anoccasional injustice, and now and then been of service to myprofessional friend, Louis Carlyle. But there is no reason at all why Ishould serve a commercial firm in an ordinary affair of business fornothing. For any information I should require a fee, a quite nominal feeof, say, one hundred pounds."
The director looked as though his faith in human nature had received arude blow.
"A hundred pounds would be a very large initial fee for a small firmlike this, Mr Carrados," he remarked in a pained voice.
"And that, of course, would be independent of Mr Carlyle's professionalcharges," added Carrados.
"Is that sum contingent on any specific performance?" inquired themanager.
"I do not mind making it conditional on my procuring for you, for thepolice to act on, a photograph and a description of the thief."
The two officials conferred apart for a moment. Then the managerreturned.
"We will agree, Mr Carrados, on the understanding that these things areto be in our hands within two days. Failing that----"
"No, no!" cried Mr Carlyle indignantly, but Carrados good-humouredly puthim aside.
"I will accept the condition in the same sporting spirit that inspiresit. Within forty-eight hours or no pay. The cheque, of course, to begiven immediately the goods are delivered?"
"You may rely on that."
Carrados took out his pocket-book, produced an envelope bearing anAmerican stamp, and from it extracted an unmounted print.
"Here is the photograph," he announced. "The man is called Ulysses K.Groom, but he is better known as 'Harry the Actor.' You will find thedescription written on the back."
Five minutes later, when they were alone, Mr Carlyle expressed hisopinion of the transaction.
"You are an unmitigated humbug, Max," he said, "though an amiable one, Iadmit. But purely for your own private amusement you spring these thingson people."
"On the contrary," replied Carrados, "people spring these things on me."
"Now this photograph. Why have I heard nothing of it before?"
Carrados took out his watch and touched the fingers.
"It is now three minutes to eleven. I received the photograph at twentypast eight."
"Even then, an hour ago you assured me that you had done nothing."
"Nor had I--so far as result went. Until the keystone of the edifice waswrung from the manager in his room, I was as far away from demonstrablecertainty as ever."
"So am I--as yet," hinted Mr Carlyle.
"I am coming to that, Louis. I turn over the whole thing to you. The manhas got two clear days' start and the chances are nine to one againstcatching him. We know everything, and the case has no further interestfor me. But it is your business. Here is your material.
"On that one occasion when the 'tawny' man crossed our path, I took fromthe first a rather more serious view of his scope and intention than youdid. That same day I sent a cipher cable to Pierson of the New Yorkservice. I asked for news of any man of such and such adescription--merely negative--who was known to have left the States; aneducated man, expert in the use of disguises, audacious in hisoperations, and a specialist in 'dry' work among banks andstrong-rooms."
"Why the States, Max?"
"That was a sighting shot on my part. I argued that he must be anEnglish-speaking man. The smart and inventive turn of the modern Yankhas made him a specialist in ingenious devices, straight or crooked.Unpickable locks and invincible lock-pickers, burglar-proof safes andsafe-specializing burglars, come equally from the States. So I tried avery simple test. As we talked that day and the man walked past us, Idropped the words 'New York'--or, rather, 'Noo Y'rk'--in his hearing."
"I know you did. He neither turned nor stopped."
"He was that much on his guard; but into his step there came--thoughyour poor old eyes could not see it, Louis--the 'psychological pause,'an absolute arrest of perhaps a fifth of a second; just as it would havedone with you if the word 'London' had fallen on your ear in a distantland. However, the whys and the wherefores don't matter. Here is theessential story.
"Eighteen months ago 'Harry the Actor' successfully looted the officesafe of M'Kenkie, J. F. Higgs & Co.; of Cleveland, Ohio. He had justmarried a smart but very facile third-rate vaudeville actress--Englishby origin--and wanted money for the honeymoon. He got about five hundredpounds, and with that they came to Europe and stayed in London for somemonths. That period is marked by the Congreave Square post officeburglary, you may remember. While studying such of the Britishinstitutions as most appealed to him, the 'Actor's' attention becamefixed on this safe-deposit. Possibly the implied challenge contained inits telegraphic address grew on him until it became a point ofprofessional honour with him to despoil it; at all events he waspresumedly attracted by an undertaking that promised not only glory butvery solid profit. The first part of the plot was, to the most skilfulcriminal 'impersonator' in the States, mere skittles. Spreading overthose months he appeared at 'The Safe' in twelve different charactersand rented twelve safes of different sizes. At the same time he made athorough study of the methods of the place. As soon as possible he gotthe keys back again into legitimate use, having made duplicates for hisown private ends, of course. Five he seems to have returned during hisfirst stay; one was received later, with profuse apologies, byregistered post; one was returned through a leading Berlin bank. Sixmonths ago he made a flying visit here, purely to work off two more. Onehe kept from first to last, and the remaining couple he got in at thebeginning of his second long residence here, three or four months ago.
"This brings us to the serious part of the cool enterprise. He had fundsfrom the Atlantic and South-Central Mail-car coup when he arrived herelast April. He appears to have set up three establishments; a home, inthe guise of an elderly scholar with a young wife, which, of course, wasnext door to our friend the manager; an observation point, over which heplastered the inscription 'Rub
in Rubbo for Everything' as a reason forbeing; and, somewhere else, a dressing-room with essential conditions oftwo doors into different streets.
"About six weeks ago he entered the last stage. Mrs Harry, with quiteridiculous ease, got photographs of the necessary page or two of therecord-book. I don't doubt that for weeks before then everyone whoentered the place had been observed, but the photographs linked them upwith the actual men into whose hands the 'Actor's' old keys hadpassed--gave their names and addresses, the numbers of their safes,their passwords and signatures. The rest was easy."
"Yes, by Jupiter; mere play for a man like that," agreed Mr Carlyle,with professional admiration. "He could contrive a dozen differentoccasions for studying the voice and manner and appearance of hisvictims. How much has he cleared?"
"We can only speculate as yet. I have put my hand on seven doubtfulcallers on Monday and Tuesday last. Two others he had ignored for somereason; the remaining two safes had not been allotted. There is onepoint that raises an interesting speculation."
"What is that, Max?"
"The 'Actor' has one associate, a man known as 'Billy the Fondant,' butbeyond that--with the exception of his wife, of course--he does notusually trust anyone. It is plain, however, that at least seven men mustlatterly have been kept under close observation. It has occurred tome----"
"Yes, Max?"
"I have wondered whether Harry has enlisted the innocent services of oneor other of our clever private inquiry offices."
"Scarcely," smiled the professional. "It would hardly pass muster."
"Oh, I don't know. Mrs Harry, in the character of a jealous wife or asuspicious sweetheart, might reasonably----"
Mr Carlyle's smile suddenly faded.
"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "I remember----"
"Yes, Louis?" prompted Carrados, with laughter in his voice.
"I remember that I must telephone to a client before Beedel comes,"concluded Mr Carlyle, rising in some haste.
At the door he almost ran into the subdued director, who was wringinghis hands in helpless protest at a new stroke of calamity.
"Mr Carrados," wailed the poor old gentleman in a tremulous bleat, "MrCarrados, there is another now--Sir Benjamin Gump. He insists on seeingme. You will not--you will not desert us?"
"I should have to stay a week," replied Carrados briskly, "and I'm justoff now. There will be a procession. Mr Carlyle will support you, I amsure."
He nodded "Good-morning" straight into the eyes of each and found hisway out with the astonishing certainty of movement that made so manyforget his infirmity. Possibly he was not desirous of encounteringDraycott's embarrassed gratitude again, for in less than a minute theyheard the swirl of his departing car.
"Never mind, my dear sir," Mr Carlyle assured his client, withimpenetrable complacency. "Never mind. _I_ will remain instead. PerhapsI had better make myself known to Sir Benjamin at once."
The director turned on him the pleading, trustful look of a cornereddormouse.
"He is in the basement," he whispered. "I shall be in the boardroom--ifnecessary."
Mr Carlyle had no difficulty in discovering the centre of interest inthe basement. Sir Benjamin was expansive and reserved, bewildered anddecisive, long-winded and short-tempered, each in turn and more or lessall at once. He had already demanded the attention of the manager,Professor Bulge, Draycott and two underlings to his case and they werenow involved in a babel of inutile reiteration. The inquiry agent was atonce drawn into a circle of interrogation that he did his best tosatisfy impressively while himself learning the new facts.
The latest development was sufficiently astonishing. Less than an hourbefore Sir Benjamin had received a parcel by district messenger. Itcontained a jewel-case which ought at that moment to have been securelyreposing in one of the deposit safes. Hastily snatching it open, therecipient's incredible forebodings were realized. It was empty--empty ofjewels, that is to say, for, as if to add a sting to the blow, a neatlyinscribed card had been placed inside, and on it the agitated baronetread the appropriate but at the moment rather gratuitous maxim: "Lay notup for yourselves treasures upon earth----"
The card was passed round and all eyes demanded the expert'spronouncement.
"'--where moth and rust doth corrupt and where thieves break through andsteal.' H'm," read Mr Carlyle with weight. "This is a most importantclue, Sir Benjamin----"
"Hey, what? What's that?" exclaimed a voice from the other side of thehall. "Why, damme if I don't believe you've got another! Look at that,gentlemen; look at that. What's on, I say? Here now, come; give me mysafe. I want to know where I am."
It was the bookmaker who strode tempestuously in among them, flourishingbefore their faces a replica of the card that was in Mr Carlyle's hand.
"Well, upon my soul this is most extraordinary," exclaimed thatgentleman, comparing the two. "You have just received this, Mr--MrBerge, isn't it?"
"That's right, Berge--'Iceberg' on the course. Thank the Lord Harry, Ican take my losses coolly enough, but this--this is a facer. Put into myhand half-an-hour ago inside an envelope that ought to be here and assafe as in the Bank of England. What's the game, I say? Here, Johnny,hurry and let me into my safe."
Discipline and method had for the moment gone by the board. There was nosuggestion of the boasted safeguards of the establishment. The manageradded his voice to that of the client, and when the attendant did not atonce appear he called again.
"John, come and give Mr Berge access to his safe at once."
"All right, sir," pleaded the harassed key-attendant; hurrying up withthe burden of his own distraction. "There's a silly fathead got in whatthinks this is a left-luggage office, so far as I can make out--aforeigner."
"Never mind that now," replied the manager severely. "Mr Berge's safe:No. 01724."
The attendant and Mr Berge went off together down one of the brilliantcolonnaded vistas. One or two of the others who had caught the wordsglanced across and became aware of a strange figure that was driftingindecisively towards them. He was obviously an elderly German tourist ofpronounced type--long-haired, spectacled, outrageously garbed andinvolved in the mental abstraction of his philosophical race. One handwas occupied with the manipulation of a pipe, as markedly Teutonic asits owner; the other grasped a carpet-bag that would have ensured anopening laugh to any low comedian.
Quite impervious to the preoccupation of the group, the German made hisway up to them and picked out the manager.
"This was a safety deposit, _nicht wahr_?"
"Quite so," acquiesced the manager loftily, "but just now----"
"Your fellow was dense of gomprehension." The eyes behind the clumsyglasses wrinkled to a ponderous humour. "He forgot his own business.Now this goot bag----"
Brought into fuller prominence, the carpet-bag revealed further detailsof its overburdened proportions. At one end a flannel shirt cuffprotruded in limp dejection; at the other an ancient collar, with thegrotesque attachment known as a "dickey," asserted its presence. Nowonder the manager frowned his annoyance. "The Safe" was in low enoughrepute among its patrons at that moment without any burlesque interludeto its tragic hour.
"Yes, yes," he whispered, attempting to lead the would-be depositoraway, "but you are under a mistake. This is not----"
"It was a safety deposit? Goot. Mine bag--I would deposit him in safetytill the time of mine train. _Ja?_"
"_Nein, nein!_" almost hissed the agonized official. "Go away, sir, goaway! It isn't a cloakroom. John, let this gentleman out."
The attendant and Mr Berge were returning from their quest. The innerbox had been opened and there was no need to ask the result. Thebookmaker was shaking his head like a baffled bull.
"Gone, no effects," he shouted across the hall. "Lifted from 'The Safe,'by crumb!"
To those who knew nothing of the method and operation of the fraud itseemed as if the financial security of the Capital was tottering. Anamazed silence fell, and in it they heard the great grille door of thebasement clang on the
inopportune foreigner's departure. But, as if itwas impossible to stand still on that morning of dire happenings, he wasimmediately succeeded by a dapper, keen-faced man in severe clericalattire who had been let in as the intruder passed out.
"Canon Petersham!" exclaimed the professor, going forward to greet him.
"My dear Professor Bulge!" reciprocated the canon. "You here! A mostdisquieting thing has happened to me. I must have my safe at once." Hedivided his attention between the manager and the professor as hemonopolized them both. "A most disquieting and--and outrageouscircumstance. My safe, please--yes, yes, Rev. Henry Noakes Petersham. Ihave just received by hand a box, a small box of no value but one that I_thought_, yes, I am convinced that it was the one, a box that was usedto contain certain valuables of family interest which should at thismoment be in my safe here. No. 7436? Very likely, very likely. Yes, hereis my key. But not content with the disconcerting effect of that,professor, the box contained--and I protest that it's a most unseemlything to quote _any_ text from the Bible in this way to a clergyman ofmy position--well, here it is. 'Lay not up for yourselves treasures uponearth----' Why, I have a dozen sermons of my own in my desk now on thatvery verse. I'm particularly partial to the very needful lesson that itteaches. And to apply it to _me_! It's monstrous!"
"No. 7436, John," ordered the manager, with weary resignation.
The attendant again led the way towards another armour-plated aisle.Smartly turning a corner, he stumbled over something, bit a profaneexclamation in two, and looked back.
"It's that bloomin' foreigner's old bag again," he explained across theplace in aggrieved apology. "He left it here after all."
"Take it upstairs and throw it out when you've finished," said themanager shortly.
"Here, wait a minute," pondered John, in absent-minded familiarity."Wait a minute. This is a funny go. There's a label on that wasn't herebefore. '_Why not look inside?_'"
"'Why not look inside?'" repeated someone.
"That's what it says."
There was another puzzled silence. All were arrested by some intangiblesuggestion of a deeper mystery than they had yet touched. One by onethey began to cross the hall with the conscious air of men who were notcurious but thought that they might as well see.
"Why, curse my crumpet," suddenly exploded Mr Berge, "if that ain't thesame writing as these texts!"
"By gad, but I believe you are right," assented Mr Carlyle. "Well, whynot look inside?"
The attendant, from his stooping posture, took the verdict of the ringof faces and in a trice tugged open the two buckles. The centralfastening was not locked, and yielded to a touch. The flannel shirt,the weird collar and a few other garments in the nature of a"top-dressing" were flung out and John's hand plunged deeper....
Harry the Actor had lived up to his dramatic instinct. Nothing waswrapped up; nay, the rich booty had been deliberately opened out anddisplayed, as it were, so that the overturning of the bag, when John thekeybearer in an access of riotous extravagance lifted it up and strewedits contents broadcast on the floor, was like the looting of asmuggler's den, or the realization of a speculator's dream, or thebursting of an Aladdin's cave, or something incredibly lavish andbizarre. Bank-notes fluttered down and lay about in all directions,relays of sovereigns rolled away like so much dross, bonds and scrip forthousands and tens of thousands clogged the downpouring stream ofjewellery and unset gems. A yellow stone the size of a four-pound weightand twice as heavy dropped plump upon the canon's toes and sent himhopping and grimacing to the wall. A ruby-hilted kris cut across themanager's wrist as he strove to arrest the splendid rout. Still themiraculous cornucopia deluged the ground, with its pattering, ringing,bumping, crinkling, rolling, fluttering produce until, like the finaltableau of some spectacular ballet, it ended with a golden rain thatmasked the details of the heap beneath a glittering veil of yellow sand.
"My dust!" gasped Draycott.
"My fivers, by golly!" ejaculated the bookmaker, initiating a plungeamong the spoil.
"My Japanese bonds, coupons and all, and--yes, even the manuscript of mywork on 'Polyphyletic Bridal Customs among the mid-Pleistocene CaveMen.' Hah!" Something approaching a cachinnation of delight closed theprofessor's contribution to the pandemonium, and eyewitnesses afterwardsdeclared that for a moment the dignified scientist stood on one foot inthe opening movement of a can-can.
"My wife's diamonds, thank heaven!" cried Sir Benjamin, with the air ofa schoolboy who was very well out of a swishing.
"But what does it mean?" demanded the bewildered canon. "Here are myfamily heirlooms--a few decent pearls, my grandfather's collection ofcamei and other trifles--but who----?"
"Perhaps this offers some explanation," suggested Mr Carlyle, unpinningan envelope that had been secured to the lining of the bag. "It isaddressed 'To Seven Rich Sinners.' Shall I read it for you?"
For some reason the response was not unanimous, but it was sufficient.Mr Carlyle cut open the envelope.
"MY DEAR FRIENDS,--Aren't you glad? Aren't you happy at this moment? Ah yes; but not with the true joy of regeneration that alone can bring lightness to the afflicted soul. Pause while there is yet time. Cast off the burden of your sinful lusts, for what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? (Mark, chap. viii., v. 36.)
"Oh, my friends, you have had an all-fired narrow squeak. Up till the Friday in last week I held your wealth in the hollow of my ungodly hand and rejoiced in my nefarious cunning, but on that day as I with my guilty female accomplice stood listening with worldly amusement to the testimony of a converted brother at a meeting of the Salvation Army on Clapham Common, the gospel light suddenly shone into our rebellious souls and then and there we found salvation. Hallelujah!
"What we have done to complete the unrighteous scheme upon which we had laboured for months has only been for your own good, dear friends that you are, though as yet divided from us by your carnal lusts. Let this be a lesson to you. Sell all you have and give it to the poor--through the organization of the Salvation Army by preference--and thereby lay up for yourselves treasures where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal. (Matthew, chap, vi., v. 20.)
"Yours in good works,
"PRIVATE HENRY, THE SALVATIONIST.
"_P.S._ (in haste).--I may as well inform you that no crib is really uncrackable, though the Cyrus J. Coy Co.'s Safe Deposit on West 24th Street, N.Y., comes nearest the kernel. And even that I could work to the bare rock if I took hold of the job with both hands--that is to say I could have done in my sinful days. As for you, I should recommend you to change your T. A. to 'Peanut.'
"U. K. G."
"There sounds a streak of the old Adam in that postscript, Mr Carlyle,"whispered Inspector Beedel, who had just arrived in time to hear theletter read.