THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING FORTUNE
Whenever he had solved a case, if not to the world's satisfaction, to
his own, Quarles seldom mentioned it again. He professed to think
little of his achievement, a pose which I have no doubt concealed a
considerable amount of satisfaction and self-complacency. Of the
curious case connected with the Bryants, he was, however, rather
proud; and, since it resulted in making things easier for Zena and me,
I have every reason to be satisfied.
It began in a strange way. A simple looking old man, his clothes a
size too large for him, walked into a large pawnbroker's one day, and,
handing him a scarf-pin, asked how much could be given for it. The pin
was no use to him. He didn't want to pawn it, but to sell it. The
customer was requested to put a price upon his property, and, after
some hesitation, he asked whether twenty pounds would be too much. The
man in the shop went into a back room ostensibly to consult his
superior, in reality to send for the police. It happened that a
quantity of jewelry had been stolen from a well-known society lady a
few weeks before, and pawnbrokers had had special notice of the fact;
hence the firm's precaution. The simple old man had offered for twenty
pounds a diamond that was worth at least twenty times that amount.
Being interested in the jewel robbery, I was naturally keen to know
all that could be discovered about this simple old man, and I will
give the story as I told it to Christopher Quarles after I had made
the most minute inquiries.
The old man's name was Sims--James Sims--and for the last year he had
resided with a niece, who was married and living at Fulham. Until
twelve months ago he had been manservant to an old gentleman named
Ottershaw, living at Norbiton, who he said had given him the pin. Mr.
Ottershaw was a retired Indian servant, who chose to live a lonely
life, and was evidently an erratic individual.
Although there was no direct evidence on the point, nothing to show
that he had any income beyond his pension, nor any property beyond the
old house at Norbiton which he had bought, the idea got abroad that he
was an exceedingly wealthy man. Sims declared that he had never seen
any evidence of great wealth. His master was aware of what was said,
and used to chuckle about it, but he never in any way endorsed the
story. At the same time he didn't deny it, and, indeed, fostered the
idea to some extent by saying that he hoped to keep his anxious
relatives waiting until he was a hundred.
These relatives consisted of two nephews and a niece, the children of
Mr. Ottershaw's sister, who had been some years his senior. Both the
nephews--George and Charles Bryant--were married; the niece was a
spinster whose sole interest in life was foreign missions. The Bryants
had money, just sufficient to obviate the necessity to work, and, so
far as the two brothers were concerned, they were undoubtedly chiefly
concerned in waiting for a dead man's shoes. Miss Bryant hoped to
become rich for the sake of her missionary work. All of them were
convinced of their uncle's wealth.
The old gentleman did not attain his century. He caught a chill,
pneumonia set in, and in three days he was dead. Sims declared that
about a month before his death his master had given him the pin with
the remark: "You've been a good servant, Sims. This is a little gift
in recognition of the fact. It's worth a few pounds, and should you
outlive me and find yourself hard up, you can turn it into money."
Sims had not found himself hard up, he had saved enough to live
quietly upon, but his great-niece, of whom he was very fond, was going
to be married, and he thought he would turn the pin into money as a
nest egg for her.
Mr. Ottershaw's will was a curiosity. It began with a very
straightforward statement that the testator was aware that his
relatives had for long past been hoping for his death. No doubt they
would have come to live with him had he allowed it, to see that his
money did not go to strangers. "They have their reward," the will went
on. "I leave all I am possessed of to George, Charles, and Mary Bryant
in equal shares, without any restrictions whatever. But, since during
my lifetime my nephews and niece have undoubtedly speculated
concerning my wealth, I feel it would be a pity if my death were to
rob them suddenly of so pleasant an occupation. Frankly, I would take
what wealth I have with me if I could. This being impossible, I
suppose, I have placed it in a safe place, so that, in order to find
it, my relatives will still be able to speculate and exercise their
ingenuity. For their guidance I may say that I deposited it in this
place while alone in one of the rooms of my house at Norbiton, that I
did not send it out of the house, yet if the house is burnt down, or
pulled down brick by brick, it will not be found."
The will then went on to provide that the house should not be sold for
five years, nor anything taken out of it. During this period his
nephews and niece were to have free access to it whenever they wished,
or any person they might appoint could visit it. If they chose they
could let it furnished for five years. They could burn it or pull it
down if they liked, but if it were intact at the end of five years, it
was to be sold, and the proceeds equally divided.
"These are the only conditions," the will concluded; "but, as I am
doing so much for my relatives, I may just mention two things which I
should like done, but they are in no way commands. On the finding of
my wealth, if it is found, I should like ten per cent. of it given to
a society or societies for the feeble-minded. And, as I have explained
to my relatives more than once, I should like to be cremated, but I
leave the decision to them. If cremation is considered too expensive,
I must be buried in the usual way."
Although the house at Norbiton was still intact, I was told by George
Bryant that during the last twelve months every nook and cranny had
been searched without avail. He still believed that the wealth was
hidden somewhere, but he had begun to doubt whether it would ever be
found. Naturally, when he heard of Sims's attempt to sell a diamond
pin, his hopes revived. His brother Charles had always thought that
Sims knew something, but he himself had not thought so. Now the affair
was on an entirely different footing.
When I had told my story in the empty room at Chelsea I think we were
all three convinced that this was the toughest problem we had ever
tackled.
"Did the relatives respect the old man's wish and have the body
cremated?" Zena asked.
"No; he was buried in a cemetery at Kingston."
"Then they don't deserve to find the money, and I hope they won't."
"I do not like the relatives," I returned; "but in this matter there
is something to be said for them. They have always been opposed to
cremation, a fact which Mr. Ottershaw knew quite well, and,
recognizing the contemptuous tone of the will, not unreasonably, I
think, they decided that the wish was expressed only to annoy them,
and that their uncle had no real desire to be cremated."
"One of your absurd questions," said Quarles.
"It seems to me I have never asked a more natural or a more sensible
one," said Zena.
"I won't argue, my dear," Quarles returned. "I presume that paper you
have there, Wigan, is a copy of the wording of the will?"
"Yes," and I handed it to him.
"Of course, you do not think Sims has any connection with this jewel
robbery you have been engaged upon?"
"No; he would not be selling so valuable a stone for twenty pounds."
"And you have come to the conclusion that his story is a plain
statement of facts?"
"I think so."
"You are not sure?"
"Well, one cannot close one's eyes to the possibility that he may
dislike the Bryants as much as his master did, and may be keeping his
master's secret," I answered.
"Or he may have learned the secret by chance," said Zena.
"He may," said the professor. "You questioned him upon that point,
Wigan?"
"He says he knows nothing."
"What has become of the pin?"
"It is in the hands of the police at present, but will be handed back
to him. There is no evidence whatever that he is not the rightful
owner. The Bryants wanted to have him arrested."
Quarles spread out the paper, and began reading parts of the will in a
slow, thoughtful manner.
"'Frankly I would take what wealth I have with me if I could.'" And
Quarles repeated the sentence twice. "That might imply that there was
no wealth to speak of; and, following this idea for a moment, the
permission to burn the house or pull it down might suggest a hope in
the old man's mind that the frantic search for what did not exist
would result in the destruction of even that which did--the house and
furniture. The fact that he desires ten per cent. of the wealth, if it
is found, to go to imbeciles rather favors this notion; and his wish
to be cremated may be an attempt to make his relatives spend money
upon him from whom they were destined to receive nothing."
"It would be a grim joke," I said.
"A madman's humor, perhaps," said Zena.
"He goes on: 'This being impossible, I suppose,' and then says he has
hidden his wealth. He did not seem quite certain that he could not
take it with him, did he?"
"You think----"
"No, no," said Quarles, "I haven't got as far as thinking anything
definite yet. The will then explains in a riddle where the treasure
is hidden. He was alone in a room. He didn't send the treasure out of
the house. The statements are so deliberate that I am inclined to
believe in a treasure of some sort."
"So am I," I answered, "because of the valuable pin he gave to his
man."
"When was this will made?" asked Quarles.
"Nine years ago."
"Living as he did, he would hardly spend his pension," the professor
went on. "Money would accumulate in nine years, and, since there is no
evidence that he did anything else with it, we may assume that the
hoard was periodically added to, and, therefore, he must have placed
it where he could get at it without much difficulty."
For a moment Quarles studied the paper.
"I think we may take his statements literally," he went on; "so unless
the treasure was very small, small enough to be concealed inside a
brick, it seems obvious that it was not hidden in the walls of the
house, or it would have been found in the process of pulling down."
"If we are to be quite literal, we must remember that he says brick by
brick," I pointed out. "It might therefore be hidden in a brick."
"I have thought of that," Quarles returned; "but in pulling down
bricks would get broken, especially a hollow brick, as this would be.
I think we may take the words to mean only total demolition, and that
there is no special significance in the expression 'brick by brick.'
Burning does away with the idea that the treasure may be hidden in
woodwork."
"If he put it under a ground floor room or under a cellar neither
pulling down nor a fire would disclose it," said Zena.
"Every flag in the cellars has been taken up," I answered; "and all
the ground underneath the house has been dug up."
"Is there a well?" she asked.
"No; that was the first thing I looked for when I came there."
"He says in a room," Quarles went on. "I don't think that means a
cellar."
"Do you think the treasure was small in bulk and placed in his
coffin?" said Zena eagerly, leaning forward in her chair as she asked
the question.
"Certainly in that case he would be perfectly justified in saying that
he didn't send it out of the house," said Quarles.
"It is most improbable," I said. "To begin with, Mr. Ottershaw wished
to be cremated, so would hardly leave any such instructions. And,
further, Sims saw him placed in his coffin, and says nothing was
buried with the body."
"It is an interesting problem," said the professor; "but one does not
feel very much inclined to help the Bryants."
"Then you have a theory?" I asked.
"I haven't got so far as theory; I am only rather keen to try my wits.
There is a shadowy idea at the back of my brain which may be gone by
morning. If it hasn't, we'll go and see Sims."
Next morning when I went to Chelsea, as I had arranged to do, I found
Quarles waiting for me, and we went to Fulham together. Sims had two
rooms in his niece's house, but took his meals with the family. We
went into his sitting room and he was quite ready to talk about Mr.
Ottershaw. I told him that Quarles was a gentleman who thought he
could find the hidden money.
"I shall be very glad if he does," said Sims. "The Bryants will know
then that I had nothing to do with it. Mr. Charles has been the worst;
but since I tried to sell that pin Mr. George has been as bad."
"I take it you don't like the Bryants," said Quarles.
"I don't dislike them, only when they bother me."
"Your master didn't like them?"
"Didn't he? I never heard him say. He wasn't in the habit of saying
much to anybody, not even to me."
"You were fond of him?"
"Loved him. He wasn't what you would call a lovable character, but I
loved him, and he liked me. You see, him and me were born in the same
neighborhood, five miles out of Worcester; and when he came back from
India he came down there to see an old friend, since dead, and I
happened to be there at the time out of a job. That's how we came
together fifteen years ago."
"You didn't go at once to Norbiton?"
"Not until three years afterward."
"Where were you during those three years?"
"In several places, part of the time in Switzerland, and in Germany."
"Now about this treasure, Mr. Sims?"
"Bless you, sir, I don't believe in it."
"The will very distinctly mentions it."
"I know. I've heard such a lot about that will from the Bryants that I
know it almost by heart. It was a joke, that's what I think. Why, Mr.
Charles has asked me more than once whether I didn't slip it into his
coffin."
"Mr. Ottershaw gave you no such instructions, I suppose," said
Quarles.
"The only instructions he gave was that I was to lay him out, and to
see him put into his coffin if he was buried, and, whatever happened,
to see him decently carried out of the house. There was some talk of
his being cremated, and I suppose the master didn't know how they
would take him away then. No doubt he thought the Bryants would have a
woman to lay him out, so he left a letter for me to show them. The
master always did hate women."
"And you did this for him?"
"Gladly, and I helped the undertaker lift him into the coffin. I was
there when he was screwed down, so were Mr. George and Mr. Charles.
There was nothing but the body buried, nothing."
"The Bryants wouldn't have him cremated, I understand," said Quarles.
"And quite right, too," said Sims. "It's a heathenish custom, that's
what I think."
"And you don't believe there was any large sum of money?"
"No, I don't. I should have seen some sign of it."
"Your master gave you a very valuable pin," said Quarles; "I don't
suppose you had seen that before."
"It's true, I hadn't."
"There may have been other valuables where that came from."
"I don't think it," said Sims. "I don't believe the master himself
knew it was so valuable."
As we walked up the Fulham Road I asked the professor what he thought
of Sims.
"Simple--and honest, I fancy."
"You're not quite sure?"
"Not quite, but then I am not sure of anything in this affair yet. I
suggest we go and see Mr. George Bryant. I want his permission to go
over the house at Norbiton."
George Bryant lived at Wimbledon, and we found him at home. Much of
our conversation went over old ground, and need not be repeated here;
but the professor was evidently not very favorably impressed with
Bryant. Nor did Bryant appear to think much of Quarles. He smiled
contemptuously at some of his questions, and, when asked for
permission to visit the house at Norbiton, he said he must consult his
brother and sister.
"Except that I am keenly interested in the affair as a puzzle, I don't
care one way or the other," said Quarles. "Whether you handle the
money or not is immaterial to me, but I have a strong impression that
I can find it."
"In that case, of course----"
"There are conditions," said Quarles, "and one or two more questions."
"I am willing to answer any questions."
"Did you often visit your uncle?"
"Only twice in ten years, and on each occasion he was not very well--a
touch of gout, which was what made him so ill-tempered, I imagine. My
brother Charles was with me on one occasion; my sister, I believe,
never went there."
"Yet you all expected to profit by his death?"
"His letters certainly gave us to understand that we should, and so
far the will was no surprise to us."
"Has the clause in the will which forbids the removal of anything from
the house been observed?" Quarles asked.
"Most certainly."
"I mean with regard to trifling things."
"Nothing has been taken. Of course the will has been complied with."
"It wasn't with regard to Mr. Ottershaw's cremation."
"We did what we considered to be right, and I refuse to discuss that
question. For my own part, I believe if James Sims could be forced to
speak the mystery would be at an end. I cannot help feeling that the
police have failed in their duty by not having him arrested."
"I daresay that is a question my friend Detective Wigan will refuse to
discuss," said the professor. "Do you care to hear my conditions? You
can talk them over with your brother and sister when you consider
whether I shall be allowed to go over the house or not."
"I shall be glad to know your fee," said Bryant.
For a moment I thought that Quarles was going to lose his temper.
"I charge no fee," he said quietly, after a momentary pause; "but if
the money is found through me, you must give ten per cent. for the
benefit of imbeciles according to the wish of the deceased, and you
must pay me ten per cent. That will leave eighty per cent. for you to
divide."
"Preposterous!" Bryant exclaimed.
"As you like. Those are my conditions, and I must receive with the
permission to visit the house a properly witnessed document, showing
that the three of you agree to my terms."
"I am afraid you will wait in vain."
"It is your affair," said Quarles, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Remember I can find the money, and I believe I am the only man who
can."
On our way back to town I asked Quarles whether he expected to get the
permission.
"Certainly I do. George Bryant is too greedy for money to miss such a
chance."
"And do you really mean that you can find the money?"
"At any rate, I mean the Bryants to pay heavily for it if I do."
Quarles was right. Three days later the permit and the required
document arrived, and we went to Norbiton.
As I had visited the house already, I was prepared to act as guide to
the professor, but he showed only a feeble interest in the house
itself. The only room he examined with any minuteness was the bedroom
Mr. Ottershaw had used, and he seemed mainly to be proving to his own
satisfaction that certain possibilities which had occurred to him were
not probabilities.
"There's a ten per cent. reward hanging to this, Wigan," he chuckled.
"We're out to make money on this occasion. Bryant seems to have spoken
the truth. The place appears to be much as Mr. Ottershaw left it."
He had opened a cupboard in the bedroom, and took up two or three
pairs of boots to look at.
"Large feet, hadn't he? Went in for comfort rather than elegance. I
never saw uglier boots. But they are well made, nothing cheap about
them."
"You don't expect to find the money in his boots, do you?"
"Never heard of hollow heels, Wigan?" he asked.
"You couldn't hide much money if every boot in the house had a hollow
heel."
"No, true. I wasn't thinking of hollow heels particularly."
Then he took up a stout walking-stick which was standing in the corner
of the cupboard, felt its weight, and walked across the room with it
to try it.
"Nothing hollow about this, at any rate," he said, after examining the
ferrule closely.
When we returned to the hall he was interested in the sticks in the
stand.
"He was fond of stout ones, Wigan," laughed Quarles. "Well, I don't
think there is much to interest us here."
Our inspection of the house had been of the most casual kind. We
hadn't even looked into some of the rooms, and the odd corners and
fireplaces to which I had given considerable attention on my former
visit hardly received a passing glance from Quarles.
"Have you looked at everything you want to see?" I asked in
astonishment.
"I think so. You said the cellars had been dug up, so they are of no
interest, and I warrant the Bryants have already searched in every
likely and unlikely place. What is the use of going over the same
ground, or in examining cabinets and drawers for false backs and false
bottoms, when others have done it for us?"
"What is your next move, then?"
"I think we may as well go back to Chelsea and talk about it."
I must admit that, in spite of my knowledge of Quarles, I thought he
was beaten this time, and that he was using bluff to hide his
disappointment. I thought he had gone to Norbiton with a fixed idea in
his mind, only to discover that he had made a mistake. He would not
discuss the affair on our way back to Chelsea; but when we reached the
house, he called for Zena, and the three of us retired to the empty
room.
"Well, dear, is the ten per cent. reward to make us rich beyond the
dreams of avarice?" asked Zena.
"It is impossible to say."
"Then you haven't found the money?"
"We haven't counted it yet," was the answer. "Let as consider the
points. The first is this: Nine years before his death Mr. Ottershaw
made his will, frankly expressing a wish that he could take his money
with him. Therefore, I think we may assume that he was not in love
with his relatives, and was not delighted that his death should profit
them. The next sentence in the will seems to express a doubt as to
whether the treasure could be taken or not, and I suggest that
something occurred about that time to make it appear feasible. So we
get a riddle, and if it is to be read literally, as I believe it is
meant to be, there can apparently be only one possible
hiding-place--somewhere in the ground underneath the house. This is so
obvious that one would hardly expect it to be the solution, and so
there is particular significance in his statement that he didn't send
it out of the house. He hid it, he says, when he was alone in one of
the rooms. Let us suppose it was his bedroom. From there he certainly
could not bury his treasure in the ground. We have decided that the
hiding-place could not be in any part of the brickwork or in the
woodwork, therefore we are driven to the conclusion that it was placed
in some piece of furniture or some receptacle made for the purpose.
Since I believe he thought it possible to take his wealth with him,
the latter supposition seems to me the more probable."
"In banknotes a large sum would only occupy a small space," I said.
"I don't think the treasure was in money," said Quarles. "The fact
that a diamond was given to Sims and not money suggests that the
treasure was in precious stones. If he spent everything he could in
this way, giving hard cash for a gem, and thus doing away with the
necessity for inquiry and references, the lack of evidence regarding
his wealth is partly explained. Great wealth can be sunk in a very
small parcel of gems, and if he hoped to take his wealth with him it
must be small in bulk."
"So that it could be placed in his coffin, you mean," said Zena.
"Sims declares nothing was placed in his coffin," said Quarles; "he is
most definite upon the point."
"And I have already pointed out that since he wished to be cremated
Mr. Ottershaw would hardly make any such arrangement," I said.
"He may have wished to be cremated, but he may not have expected to
be," said Quarles. "As a matter of fact, he left certain instructions
which point to a doubt. Sims was to lay him out and see that he was
decently cared for. So anxious was Mr. Ottershaw about this that he
left a letter for Sims to show to the Bryants. This is a most
significant fact."
"Then you suspect the man Sims," said Zena.
"We will go a step further before I answer that question. To-day,
Wigan, we have made a curious discovery. All Mr. Ottershaw's
walking-sticks were very stout ones, and that he really used them, not
merely carried them, the condition of the ferrules proves. Moreover,
there was a curious fact about his boots. They were large, the right
one being a little larger than the other, and the right boot in every
pair was the least trodden down--indeed, showed little wear either
inside or out. I wonder if Sims could explain this?"
Zena was leaning forward, her eyes fixed upon the professor, and I was
thinking of a boot with a hollow heel.
"Let's go back to the will for a moment," said Quarles. "Although Mr.
Ottershaw desired to be cremated, he did not put it in the form of a
condition, as he might reasonably have done. He even mentions the
expense, and, in fact, gives his relatives quite a good excuse for not
doing as he desires. It seems to me he didn't care much one way or the
other, and that his object was to make the relatives suffer for their
greed, and suffer all the more because he didn't actually leave the
money away from them. It was Zena's absurd question, Wigan, and her
anger that the Bryants had not carried out the old man's wish, which
gave me the germ of a theory. I believe if they had had him cremated
they would have found the treasure. He gave them a chance which they
lost by burying him."
"Then you believe Sims carried out his master's wishes?" I said.
"I do."
"And managed to have the treasure buried with him?"
"I do not believe Sims knows anything about a treasure," said Quarles;
"and I think he speaks the truth when he says that nothing but the
body was buried. But Sims knew more about his master than anyone else.
He could tell us something about their doings in Switzerland and
Germany, for instance. He was very fond of his master, and was trusted
by him."
"We want to know what happened just after Mr. Ottershaw's death," I
said. "To know what occurred abroad will not help us much."
"I think it will," Quarles returned. "Supposing Mr. Ottershaw had an
accident abroad which necessitated the amputation of his right leg,
and supposing, in Germany perhaps, he got the very best artificial
limb money could purchase?"
"A wooden leg!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, not of the old sort, but the very best the instrument makers
could devise. Mr. Ottershaw became proud of that leg and told no one
about it. Only his man knew. His right boot showed less sign of wear,
because he helped that leg with a stout stick. The wooden foot would
not stain the inside of a boot with moisture as a real foot does. When
the Bryants went to see him he complained of gout, an excuse for not
walking, and so giving them a chance of discovering the leg. Then came
the idea of secreting the treasure, and I suggest that it consists of
gems concealed in that wooden leg. He didn't want the leg removed
after his death, so Sims laid him out. Probably the leg is fitted with
a steel, fire-resisting receptacle which would have been found among
the debris had the body been cremated."
"Then the treasure is buried with him," said Zena. "Will they open the
grave?"
"I am not sure whether the old man succeeded in carrying his wealth
with him after all," said Quarles. "Sims was fond of and sentimental
about his master, and as we talked to him, Wigan, it seemed to me
there was something he had no intention of telling us. He was
particularly insistent that nothing but the body had been buried, and
appeared almost morbidly anxious to tell nothing but the exact truth.
To-morrow we will go to Fulham and ask him whether he removed the
wooden leg before the coffin was screwed down."
Quarles's conjecture proved to be right. Sims had been sentimental
about the leg because his master was so proud of it, and the night
before the coffin was fastened down had crept silently into the room
and taken it off, placing a thick shawl rolled up under the shroud, so
that the corpse would appear as it was before. It had not occurred to
him at the time that his master was so anxious that the leg should be
buried with him, but since that night he had wondered whether he had
done wrong. The wooden leg was hidden in his bedroom. When he was told
that it probably contained the treasure, his fear and amazement were
almost painful to witness. He was evidently quite innocent of any idea
of robbery.
Ingeniously concealed in the top part of the leg we found a steel
cylinder, full of gems. Mr. Ottershaw must have made a lot of money
while he was in India, for Quarles's ten per cent. of the value
obtained for the jewels came to over twelve thousand pounds.
"Half of it goes to Zena as a wedding present," he said on the day he
banked the money. "I shouldn't wait long if I were you, Wigan."
"But, grandfather, I----"
"My dear, I'm not always thinking only of myself. You have your life
before you and I want you to be happy. My only condition is that there
shall always be a place at your fireside for me."
The tears were in Zena's eyes as she kissed him, but she looked at me
and I knew my waiting time was nearly over.
"Now I shall rest on my laurels, Wigan, and trouble no more about
mysteries," said Quarles.
He meant it, but I very much doubt whether a ruling passion is so
easily controlled. We shall see.
THE END
Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
original edition have been corrected.
In Chapter I, "It is obvivious that a man who possessed such stones"
was changed to "It is obvious that a man who possessed such stones",
and a period was changed to a comma after "several boarding-houses in
Ossery Road".
In Chapter VI, quotation marks were deleted after "far more of a lover
than a detective" and "I could swear to it".
In Chapter VII, a quotation mark was removed after "so much the
better".
In Chapter XII, "a disposition to suspect Couldson" was changed to "a
disposition to suspect Coulsdon".
In Chapter XIII, a quotation mark was added after "whether he was in
Boston, Wigan", and "I had seen Oglethorp move his" was changed to "I
had seen Oglethorpe move his".
In Chapter XIV, a period was added after "little significance in
that".
In Chapter XVI, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (")
before "Well, one cannot close one's eyes", and "I haven't got as for
as thinking anything definite yet" was changed to "I haven't got as
far as thinking anything definite yet".
End of Project Gutenberg's Christopher Quarles, by Percy James Brebner