'Well, sir, I'm perfectly willing to tell you the truth as far as it
concerns myself, but I don't want to rat on a friend.'
'As I have said, he isn't your friend. He told you to take the name of
Wyoming Ed, so that he might blackmail the father of Wyoming Ed. He
has done so for the last five years, living in luxury here in London,
and not moving a finger to help you. In fact, nothing would appal him
more than to learn that you are now in this country. By this time he
has probably received the news from the prison doctor that you are
dead, and so thinks himself safe for ever.'
'If you can prove that to me--' said Jack.
'I can and will,' I interrupted; then, turning to Sanderson, I
demanded:--
'When are you to meet this man next?'
'Tonight, at nine o'clock,' he answered. 'His monthly payment is due,
and he is clamouring for the large sum I told you of.'
'Where do you meet him? In London?'
'Yes.'
'At your master's town house?'
'Yes.'
'Will you take us there, and place us where we can see him and he
can't see us?'
'Yes. I trust to your honour, Mr. Valmont. A closed carriage will call
for me at eight, and you can accompany me. Still, after all, Mr
Valmont, we have no assurance that he is the same person this young
man refers to.'
'I am certain he is. He does not go under the name of Colonel Jim
Baxter, I suppose?'
'No.'
The convict had been looking from one to the other of us during this
colloquy. Suddenly he drew his chair up closer to the table.
'Look here,' he said, 'you fellows are square, I can see that, and
after all's said and done, you're the man that got me out of clink.
Now, I half suspicion you're right about Colonel Jim, but, anyhow,
I'll tell you exactly what happened. Colonel Jim was a Britisher, and
I suppose that's why he and Wyoming Ed chummed together a good deal.
We called Jim Baxter Colonel, but he never said he was a colonel or
anything else. I was told he belonged to the British army, and that
something happened in India so that he had to light out He never
talked about himself, but he was a mighty taking fellow when he laid
out to please anybody. We called him Colonel because he was so
straight in the back, and walked as if he were on parade. When this
young English tenderfoot came out, he and the Colonel got to be as
thick as thieves, and the Colonel won a good deal of money from him at
cards, but that didn't make any difference in their friendship. The
Colonel most always won when he played cards, and perhaps that's what
started the talk about why he left the British army. He was the
luckiest beggar I ever knew in that line of business. We all met in
the rush to the new goldfields, which didn't pan out worth a cent, and
one after another of the fellows quit and went somewhere else. But
Wyoming Ed, he held on, even after Colonel Jim wanted to quit. As long
as there were plenty of fellows there, Colonel Jim never lacked money,
although he didn't dig it out of the ground, but when the population
thinned down to only a few of us, then we all struck hard times. Now,
I knew Colonel Jim was going to hold up a train. He asked me if I
would join him, and I said I would if there wasn't too many in the
gang. I'd been into that business afore, and I knew there was no
greater danger than to have a whole mob of fellows. Three men can hold
up a train better than three dozen. Everybody's scared except the
express messenger, and it's generally easy to settle him, for he
stands where the light is, and we shoot from the dark. Well, I
thought at first Wyoming Ed was on to the scheme, because when we were
waiting in the cut to signal the train he talked about us going on
with her to San Francisco, but I thought he was only joking. I guess
that Colonel Jim imagined that when it came to the pinch, Ed wouldn't
back out and leave us in the lurch: he knew Ed was as brave as a lion.
In the cut, where the train would be on the up grade, the Colonel got
his lantern ready, lit it, and wrapped a thin red silk handkerchief
round it. The express was timed to pass up there about midnight, but
it was near one o'clock when her headlight came in sight. We knew all
the passengers would be in bed in the sleepers, and asleep in the
smoking car and the day coach. We didn't intend to meddle with them.
The Colonel had brought a stick or two of dynamite from the mines, and
was going to blow open the safe in the express car, and climb out with
whatever was inside.
'The train stopped to the signal all right, and the Colonel fired a
couple of shots just to let the engineer know we meant business. The
engineer and fireman at once threw up their hands, then the Colonel
turns to Ed, who was standing there like a man pole-axed, and says to
him mighty sharp, just like if he was speaking to a regiment of
soldiers:--
'"You keep these two men covered. Come on, Jack!" he says to me, and
then we steps up to the door of the express car, which the fellow
inside had got locked and bolted. The Colonel fires his revolver in
through the lock, then flung his shoulder agin the door, and it went
in with a crash, which was followed instantly by another crash, for
the little expressman was game right through. He had put out the
lights and was blazing away at the open door. The Colonel sprang for
cover inside the car, and wasn't touched, but one of the shots took me
just above the knee, and broke my leg, so I went down in a heap. The
minute the Colonel counted seven shots he was on to that express
messenger like a tiger, and had him tied up in a hard knot before you
could shake a stick. Then, quick as a wink he struck a match, and lit
the lamp. Plucky as the express messenger was, he looked scared to
death, and now, when Colonel Jim held a pistol to his head, he gave up
the keys and told him how to open the safe. I had fallen back against
the corner of the car, inside, and was groaning with Pain. Colonel Jim
was scooping out the money from the shelves of the safe, and stuffing
it into a sack.
'"Are you hurt, Jack?" he cried.
'"Yes, my leg's broke."
'"Don't let that trouble you; we'll get you clear all right. Do you
think you can ride your horse?"
'"I don't believe it," said I. "I guess I'm done for," and I thought I
was.
'Colonel Jim never looked round, but he went through that safe in a
way that'd make your hair curl, throwing aside the bulky packages
after tearing them open, taking only cash, which he thrust into a bag
he had with him, till he was loaded like a millionaire. Then suddenly
he swore, for the train began to move.
'"What is that fool Ed doing?" he shouted, rising to his feet.
'At that minute Ed came in, pistol in each hand, and his face ablaze.
'"Here, you cursed thief!" he cried, "I didn't come with you to rob a
train!"
'"Get outside, you fool!" roared Colonel Jim, "get outside and stop
this train. Jack has got his leg broke. Don't come another step
towards me, or I'll kill you!"
'But Ed, he walked right on, Colonel Jim backing, then there was a
shot that rang like cannon fire in the closed car, and Ed fell forward
on his face. Colonel Jim turned him over, and I saw he had been hit
square in the middle of the forehead. The train was now going at good
speed, and we were already miles away from where our horses were tied.
I never heard a man swear like Colonel Jim. He went through the
pockets of Ed, and took a bundle of papers that was inside his coat,
and this he stuffed away in his own clothes. Then he turned to me, and
his voice was like a lamb.
'"Jack, old man," he said, "I can't help you. They're going to nab
you, but not for murder. The expressman there will be your witness. It
isn't murder anyhow on my part, but self-defence. You saw he was
coming at me when I warned him to keep away."
'All this he said in a loud voice, for the expressman to hear, then he
bent over to me and whispered:--
'"I'll get the best lawyer I can for you, but I'm afraid they're bound
to convict you, and if they do, I will spend every penny of this money
to get you free. You call yourself Wyoming Ed at the trial. I've taken
all this man's papers so that he can't be identified. And don't you
worry if you're sentenced, for remember I'll be working night and day
for you, and if money can get you out, you'll be got out, because
these papers will help me to get the cash required. Ed's folks are
rich in England, so they'll fork over to get you out if you pretend to
be him." With that he bade me good-bye and jumped off the train.
There, gentlemen, that's the whole story just as it happened, and
that's why I thought it was Colonel Jim had sent you to get me free.'
There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that the convict had told
the exact truth, and that night, at nine o'clock, he identified Major
Renn as the former Colonel Jim Baxter. Sanderson placed us in a
gallery where we could see, but could not hear. The old man seemed
determined that we should not know where we were, and took every
precaution to keep us in the dark. I suppose he put us out of earshot,
so that if the Major mentioned the name of the nobleman we should not
be any the wiser. We remained in the gallery for some time after the
major had left before Sanderson came to us again, carrying with him a
packet.
'The carriage is waiting at the door,' he said, 'and with your
permission, Monsieur Valmont, I will accompany you to your flat.'
I smiled at the old man's extreme caution, but he continued very
gravely:--
'It is not that, Monsieur Valmont. I wish to consult with you, and if
you will accept it, I have another commission to offer.'
'Well,' said I, 'I hope it is not so unsavoury as the last.' But to
this the old man made no response.
There was silence in the carriage as we drove back to my flat.
Sanderson had taken the precaution of pulling down the blinds of the
carriage, which he need not have troubled to do, for, as I have said,
it would have been the simplest matter in the world for me to have
discovered who his employer was, if I had desired to know. As a matter
of fact, I do not know to this day whom he represented.
Once more in my room with the electric light turned on, I was shocked
and astonished to see the expression on Sanderson's face. It was the
face of a man who would grimly commit murder and hang for it. If ever
the thirst for vengeance was portrayed on a human countenance, it was
on his that night. He spoke very quietly, laying down the packet
before him on the table.
'I think you will agree with me,' he said, 'that no punishment on
earth is too severe for that creature calling himself Major Renn.'
'I'm willing to shoot him dead in the streets of London tomorrow,'
said the convict, 'if you give the word.'
Sanderson went on implacably: 'He not only murdered the son, but for
five years has kept the father in an agony of sorrow and apprehension,
bleeding him of money all the time, which was the least of his crimes.
Tomorrow I shall tell my master that his son has been dead these five
years, and heavy as that blow must prove, it will be mitigated by the
fact that his son died an honest and honourable man. I thank you for
offering to kill this vile criminal. I intend that he shall die, but
not so quickly or so mercifully.'
Here he untied the packet, and took from it a photograph, which he
handed to the convict.
'Do you recognise that?'
'Oh yes; that's Wyoming Ed as he appeared at the mine; as, indeed, he
appeared when he was shot.'
The photograph Sanderson then handed to me.
'An article that I read about you in the paper, Monsieur Valmont, said
you could impersonate anybody. Can you impersonate this young man?'
'There's no difficulty in that,' I replied.
'Then will you do this? I wish you two to dress in that fashion. I
shall give you particulars of the haunts of Major Renn. I want you to
meet him together and separately, as often as you can, until you drive
him mad or to suicide. He believes you to be dead,' said Sanderson,
addressing Jack. 'I am certain he has the news, by his manner tonight.
He is extremely anxious to get the lump sum of money which I have been
holding back from him. You may address him, for he will recognise your
voice as well as your person, but Monsieur Valmont had better not
speak, as then he might know it was not the voice of my poor young
master. I suggest that you meet him first together, always at night.
The rest I leave in your hands, Monsieur Valmont.'
With that the old man rose and left us.
Perhaps I should stop this narration here, for I have often wondered
if practically I am guilty of manslaughter.
We did not meet Major Renn together, but arranged that he should
encounter Jack under one lamp-post, and me under the next. It was just
after midnight, and the streets were practically deserted. The theatre
crowds had gone, and the traffic was represented by the last 'buses,
and a belated cab now and then. Major Renn came down the steps of his
club, and under the first lamp-post, with the light shining full upon
him, Jack the convict stepped forth.
'Colonel Jim,' he said, 'Ed and I are waiting for you. There were
three in that robbery, and one was a traitor. His dead comrades ask
the traitor to join them.'
The Major staggered back against the lamp-post, drew his hand across
his brow, and muttered, Jack told me afterwards:--
'I must stop drinking! I must stop drinking!'
Then he pulled himself together, and walked rapidly towards the next
lamp-post. I stood out square in front of him, but made no sound. He
looked at me with distended eyes, while Jack shouted out in his
boisterous voice, that had no doubt often echoed over the plain:--
'Come on, Wyoming Ed, and never mind him. He must follow.'
Then he gave a war whoop. The Major did not turn round, but continued
to stare at me, breathing stertorously like a person with apoplexy. I
slowly pushed back my hat, and on my brow he saw the red mark of a
bullet hole. He threw up his hands and fell with a crash to the
pavement.
'Heart failure' was the verdict of the coroner's jury.