OLD BROADBRIM TIGHTENS THE COIL.
Old Broadbrim, after his interview with Danny of Melbourne, escorted
the old man to the residence of the high sheriff, with whom he had a
brief conversation.
The sheriff promised to detain the old fellow till the detective had
secured Merle, and with this promise ringing in his ears, he went back.
Jem, the Sydneyite, was a man to be looked for now.
The reader will remember that he left Round Robin Ranch on a mission
for Belle Demona.
Merle, however, had enacted from Jem a promise that he would go no
farther than Perth, where he would find plenty to amuse him, for this
purpose Merle had supplied him with ample funds.
What had become of Jem?
Had he gone to Melbourne for the purpose of looking into the pit-trap
in Old Danny's den, or had he stopped in Perth?
If the American detective, still sailing under the name of Roland
Riggs, could have looked into a well-known gaming den on the main
street of the provincial town he would have got a peep at Jem.
The young man had obeyed Merle and disobeyed Belle Demona.
Fond of gambling, he had sat nearly all day in front of his pile of
chips and played fiercely.
His success was varying, and now and then the pile would grow very
small to mount again and bring a gleam of triumph to his eyes.
Jem knew Riggs only since his coming to Round Robin Ranch.
He had seen the disguised detective and knew that he stood high in the
favor of the couple there.
Therefore when the door of the gaming den opened and he saw Riggs
standing before him, he threw down his cards and greeted him with a
smile.
But the next instant Jem's face paled.
What if Riggs should tell Belle Demona that he had broken his promise?
Half a minute later Jem threw up his hand and walked over to Old
Broadbrim.
"Hello Riggs! I didn't expect you here," he said, forcing another smile
to his lips. "I came down here for a little time, and will throw up the
cards now."
They stood beyond the house in one of the little parks that dot Perth
and were alone.
"How's the ranch?" said Jem.
"It's coming on fine; but you've been away nearly as long as I have."
"When did you come in?"
"A few hours ago."
"But you were there when I left?"
"And you, Jem, were not to have stopped here."
The young man started.
"Who told you so?"
"I know it. You were to go to Melbourne."
"For her? Yes, that's right; but hang it all, Riggs, when a fellow is
better paid to stop here, why shouldn't he?"
"Who paid you best?"
"My friend Merle," said Jem. "He's a cool one, and when he wants a
thing done to his liking it is done that way, that's all."
They stood under one of the trees in the park, and Old Broadbrim saw
that his companion's face was still pale.
"Look here, that was a cool game, Jem," said he.
"What was?"
"Why, your little play in London."
"Did he tell you?"
"Who, Merle?"
"Yes. Well, never mind. I did let the fox get away from me, but I came
on after him as soon as I could."
"It's no blame on your part, Jem. You were deceived so cleverly and so
well that Merle doesn't blame you. Then who would have thought that the
tracker would come out in Lord Harway's yacht?"
"No one. He must have pulled the wool over his lordship's eyes in a
masterly manner," laughed Jem. "You see, Riggs, for I see Merle has
told you about all--it was a little my fault in London. I could have
silenced the man once, but I let the opportunity slip."
"You took the trail as soon as Merle sailed from London."
"Yes, I took his place. The man wasn't to get off, but he did. Then I
cabled Merle to Melbourne and put him on his guard, for when I knew the
_Maybloom_ was bound for Sydney, I felt that he wouldn't stop this side
of Melbourne. In that I was right, I guess Merle stopped him there."
"I think so--in Old Danny's den."
"The very spot I am to investigate for Belle Demona! But I don't care
about the trip. I don't like Melbourne and, besides, it's not the place
for cards that Perth is. I've been thinking, Riggs, since seeing you,
that I might let you carry out the rest of my plan and investigate the
old pit for me."
"You're kind, Jem, just as if I care about the job."
"I'll pay you, Riggs. I'm the lucky man to-night," and he pulled from
his pocket a lot of ten-pound notes. "Help yourself, but only go to Old
Danny's and look into the pit. If any one's at the bottom Belle Demona
will pay well for the news, and if it's empty--why, by Jove! we can
trump up a story for the occasion. Will you go, Riggs?"
Old Broadbrim pushed the bills away.
"Why not make up the story here, Jem?" he said.
"I never thought of that, only a letter from Old Danny to Merle might
give us away."
"We can fix the old man," said the detective. "But Merle must have had
great cause to wish that tracker out of the way."
"He has cause. That was a dangerous man."
"Was he an Englishman?"
"No. No Scotland Yarder would have made Merle so eager to get away from
him. He was one of these Yankee sleuths. He followed Merle all the way
from New York."
"What for?"
"Just exactly what for I can't tell. You see that is one of the secrets
Merle never confided to me."
"You're not his confidant, then?"
"Not in all things. He keeps some secrets from Belle Demona even."
"When did you go to London, Jem?"
"More than six months ago. I went that far with Merle."
"When he went to the United States?"
"Yes, when Belle sent him over there on a mission of some kind. It must
have been a startling mission to have fetched this Yankee detective
back in his wake."
"Exactly. Now if you only had stopped the detective in London you would
have done Merle a favor, but I say you're not to be blamed, Jem, boy."
"I hope not. It wasn't altogether my fault. I never thought of Lord
Harway's yacht till it was too late."
The detective, who had pumped Jem so effectually, proposed to adjourn
to an alehouse just beyond the park, and the young Briton consented.
They proceeded to a back room, where ale was brought them and where Old
Broadbrim played the remainder of his hand.
"So you went up to London with Merle when he set out on the mission
across the sea?" he asked.
"I stayed with him till he sailed."
"But he kept the secret, did he? Come, now, Jem, you're a good fellow,
and you and I are going to become famous friends, for I don't intend to
give you away to Belle Demona, who thinks that you are on the road to
Melbourne. I don't care why Merle went to America, for I'm only Roland
Riggs, ranch herder and plainsman, and it doesn't matter to me if he
went out on a mission of blood."
Jem fell back and his lower jaw dropped as he looked Old Broadbrim in
the face.
"I happen to know that Belle Demona hated an old man who years ago
spurned her love in Monaco, and, as he was a rich old cove in the
States, he was a fat pigeon to be plucked or killed."
"That's it!" and the hand of Jem came down upon the table with
emphasis. "He was a rich old cove, sure enough. I heard Merle say that
he went out to pay off an old debt."
"One of his own?"
"No; one of hers."
"I hope he paid it. These old rascals who spurn woman's love must
sooner or later reap the reward of their acts."
"Yes. Belle would have gone herself but for a little attack of the
bush fever," continued Jem. "That's the way Merle came to go."
"Did he go willingly?"
"Yes; he wanted to serve her."
"And did, no doubt. When he came back, of course he acquainted you with
the result of his mission?"
"I met him in London. I was on hand when he came back, but he didn't
say much. Only he showed me a newspaper containing an account of the
violent death of a rich man in New York, and when he pointed to the
article he gave me a knowing look--that was all."
"But you inferred, Jem, that the old cove was the enemy of our
mistress, Belle Demona?"
"I hardly remember what I inferred just then," answered Jem, draining
his glass. "But let's quit this subject, Riggs; it's not a pleasant
one."
"Agreed, Jem. We'll make up the story for Belle about your supposed
visit to Melbourne."
Jem laughed at this, and the two talked half an hour longer, when they
left the tap-room.
There was an eager and triumphant look in the Quaker's eyes.
He had all the clews in his hands; he had picked up many a thread since
setting foot on Australian soil, and the coils of guilt had tightened
around Merle Macray.
He parted with Jem in the street, and saw the young man wend his way
toward the gambling den.
"Good-by, Jem," said Old Broadbrim under his breath. "If thee knew to
whom thee has talked to-night perhaps thy nerves wouldn't be quite as
steady as they are. But never mind, Jem. Thee is not in the shadow of
the noose."
In a little while the detective stood on the porch of his hotel and was
watching the many figures that flitted past underneath the lamps.
He was entirely at his ease.
As cool in Perth as if he stood on Broadway, he watched the crowds with
a smile at his lips.
Thousands of miles from home, the Quaker, who was daunted by nothing,
felt as secure of victory as if he had not an enemy in the world.
When at last he turned in it was with a feeling of coming victory which
nothing could dim.
Had he not left Waters on guard at the ranch?
He was serving Belle Demona, and Stareyes would not betray him.
But Old Broadbrim did not know that the trial of his life was yet to
come, and that he was on the eve of the most perilous adventure of his
memorable career.
But if he had known this would he have shrunk?
No; he would not have been Old Broadbrim, the Ferret, if he had done so.
He was a man who never fled from danger when duty called.